THE HUTT GAMBI(46)

“And so, after they threw me out,” he finished, “I found that I couldn’t get honest work as a pilot. I was blacklisted. I didn’t know where my next meal was coming from. But even though I got mad and ordered Chewie to go, he wouldn’t. Said a life debt is the most serious obligation a Wookiee can have. Even takes precedence over family ties.” He glanced at Xaverri. “Does that bother you that I was an Imperial officer? I know you hate the Empire.”

She shook her head. “No, it doesn’t bother me. You didn’t stay in long enough to get corrupted. For that, you should give thanks to whatever gods you believe in.”

Han shrugged. “I’m afraid that’s a real short list. Not even one entry,” he said, keeping it light. “What about you?”

She glanced at him, and her eyes were haunted. “Revenge is my religion, Solo. Revenge against the Empire for what they did to me .

. . and mine.”

Han reached over and took her hand, gripped it strongly. “Tell me ˇ .

. if you can.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I’ve never told anyone. I will never talk about it. If I did … I think it might kill me. I really do, Solo.”

“The Empire …” Han was guessing, “they killed your family?”

She drew a long breath, nodded, lips tightly pressed together.

“Husband. Children,” she said flatly. “Yes. They killed them.”

“I’m sorry,” Han said. “I never knew my family. I’m not sure I had one.

Sometimes, like now, I think that might not be such a bad thing.”

Xaverri shook her head. “I don’t know. You may be right, Solo. All I do know is that I never miss an opportunity to hurt them. My work takes me through the galaxy, and, believe me, this is the first engagement I’ve had in a long time where I haven’t spent every free moment figuring out a way to hurt the Empire.”

Han smiled wryly. “That’s because there are no Imperials here on Nar Shaddaa.” Which wasn’t quite true, but it might as well be. There was an Imperial Customs office on the Smuggler’s Moon. The office was staffed by an old man named Dedro Needalb, who basically worked for the Hutts. He bore the title of “Imperial Customs Inspector,” though. He transmitted data about ships and their cargoes to the local Sector Moff, Sam Shild, when he felt like it. No one ever verified whether the data he transmitted were accurate.

Basically, the Hutts had their own arrangements with Sam Shild. They made “political contributions” and “personal gifts” to Shild as “gratitude” for being such a good Imperial rep. Shild, in turn, left the Hutts and their holdings pretty much alone.

Each prospered from the arrangement. Like a symbiotic organism, Han thought.

“Exactly,” she said. “There’s no point in harming old Dedro Needalb.

Hurting him would hurt the Hutts and Nar Shaddaa, and it might actually benefit the Empire. That’s the last thing I want.”

“So how do you hurt them?” Han asked, wondering whether she was an assassin. She was an accomplished gymnast and contortionist, and some of her tricks involved weapons such as daggers, sabers, and vibroblades. But he had trouble imagining her in the role of an assassin. Xaverri was smart, very smart. Probably smarter, Han had to concede, than he was.

She’d be more likely to use brains rather than weapons in her one-woman vendetta against the Empire.

She gave him an enigmatic smile. “That would be telling.”

Han shrugged. “Hey, I got no love for the Empire myself. They’re slavers these days, and I hate slavery. Maybe I could give you a hand sometime.

I’m pretty good in a fight.”

Xaverri regarded him thoughtfully. “I’ll consider it. I’ve been thinking about replacing old Glarret soon. He’s not quick enough anymore to be a good assistant in the act, and he can’t pilot. It’s hard on me to do all the piloting myself.”

“Well, lady, let me tell you, I’m a first-class pilot,” Han said with a grin. “Matter of fact, I’m good at a lot of things.”

She rolled her eyes. “And modest, too.”

By now they had reached the door to Xaverri’s room. The illusionist looked at Han for a long level second. “It’s pretty late, Solo.”

He didn’t move. “Yeah.”

She pressed the doorlock with her forefinger and thumb, and it opened silently. Xaverri hesitated for a second, then walked into her room.

Leaving the door open.

Han smiled, and followed her in.

Han awoke after a few hours, and decided to leave Xaverri, who was still deeply asleep, to finish her rest. Quietly, he dressed and let himself out of the room, after leaving a message on her comlink that he’d see her later that day.