“Well, this time you’re going to have to pay me more, Jabba,” Han said resolutely. “Chewie and me are about to lease our own ship. That’ll be better for both of us—you won’t risk your ships, and I won’t have to take less ‘cause I’m flyin’ your ship.”
“Fine, fine,” Jabba said. “That is fine, Han.”
“But, Jabba, I gotta tell you,” Han said. “There’s still a bounty on my head. Teroenza’s got to have talked Besadii into a pretty big one.
Most of these bounty hunters I can deal with, no problem. But if I get any hints that Boba Fett is back on my trail, I ain’t hanging around here. I’m gone.
I’ll operate out of Smuggler’s Run. Even Fett isn’t dedicated enough to head into the Run.”
“Han, lad!” Jabba looked pained. “We need you! Desilijic needs you!
You’re one of the best!”
Han grinned, liking the feeling of being on more equal footing with the Hutt Lord. “Hey, Jabba, I’m the best,” he said. “And I’m gonna be provin’ it.”
Chewie roared. Jabba waved at the Wookiee. “What did he say?”
“He said, ‘We’re the best,’” Han replied. “He’s right. Soon everyone is gonna know it.”
Han’s next stop, as promised, was Lando’s used shipyard. He and
Chewie went straight to the office, where they found a small, multi-armed droid with a single ruby-red eye in charge. “Where’s Lando?” Han demanded.
“My master is not here at the moment, sir,” the little droid replied.
“May I be of service? I am Vuffi Raa, his assistant.”
Han looked at Chewbacca, who rolled his blue eyes.
“I want to speak to Lando,” Han said. “Where is he?”
“Out in the shipyard,” Vuffi Raa replied. “But … sir! Wait!
Admittance to the shipyard is not permitted unless Master Calrissian has authorized it! Sir! Come back! Sir!”
Han kept on walking. Chewbacca, however, did stop. As the little droid approached him, arms flailing, he let loose with a snarl that swiftly built to a full-throated roar. Vuffi Raa stopped in his tracks so fast that he nearly fell over backward, then went scuttling off, calling “Master!
Master!” in a plaintive voice.
Han found Lando out back, with the Falcon. He didn’t know which one of them he was gladder to see. The Falcon was all in one piece, he was pleased to note.
For once, the gambler wasn’t his usual dapper self. Han was surprised to see that he was wearing greasy mechanic’s coveralls, and his hands were filthy as he gripped a hydrospanner.
“Lando!” Han shouted.
His friend turned around, and his handsome features lit up. “Han, you old pirate! How long have you been back?”
“Just got home,” Han said, shaking Lando’s hand. They grabbed each other, thumping each other on the back, then stood back, grinning.
“Hey, Han, it’s good to see you, man!”
“You, too!”
Before the end of the day, Han and Chewie had leased their new ship from Lando. It was a small SoroSuub freighter, Starrnite-class, heavily modified. The ship was about two-thirds the size of the Millennium Falcon, and had a blunt, rounded bow, thick, stubby wings, and a rounded, thick body that narrowed back to a flattened tail section. The ship resembled a coarse, unstreamlined teardrop and, as one of Han’s Quarren acquaintances later told him, looked like “something we raise for snacks.” Each of the wings ended in a gun turret that held two fixed laser cannons, and the pilot also controlled a set of laser cannons mounted on the bow.
Han christened her the Bria.
“Lord Aruk wishes to see you, Your Excellency,” Ganar Tos, Teroenza’s majordomo, said. “He is waiting in your office.”
The High Priest tensed. I don’t think I can take any more of his criticism!
he thought, hoisting himself out of his resting sling resentfully.
Lord Aruk and his offspring Durga had come for a special inspection tour of the Ylesian operation two days ago. Teroenza had been proud to show them the progress they’d made, the new factories, the productive pilgrims, the steadily growing supply of valuable spice that they’d ship offworld. He’d even been able to show them the new cleared plot of land for the new colony—Colony Eight.
But the more Teroenza had shown the Hutt Lord, the more Aruk had nitpicked.
The High Priest was beginning to feel a little desperate.
Now, as he lumbered down the hallway of the Administration Building in Colony One, Teroenza’s mind was busy composing replies to any of the charges Aruk might fling at him. Production was up. The workers were efficient. They were exploring new exports … those nalatree frogs, for example.