THE HUTT GAMBI(78)

The Moff would notice he hadn’t fulfilled his orders. They’d courtmartial him. And then they’d send an even bigger fleet to wipe us out!”

“And the next Admiral they appoint may not be amenable to our ˇ . .

persuasions,” Jiliac said, nodding her massive head in agreement.

“That is why we want Admiral Greelanx to stay in command. But there must be some way for us to ensure an Imperial defeat.”

Han frowned. The entire thrust of his education at the Imperial Academy had been on ensuring victory for the Empire. “I don’t know .

. .” he said uncertainly.

“Couldn’t we pay the Admiral to put his ships in the wrong positions, so they’re not able to fire properly, or something of the kind?”

Jiliac asked. “We Hutts are not military-minded sentients, Captain.

What kinds of things would bring about the result we want? An Imperial defeat, without it being obvious that we paid Greelanx off.”

“Well …” Han thought hard, “maybe he’ll sell us his battle plan.

With that in hand, we could create a defense that would put all of our ships in just the right spot to—maybe—defeat the Imperial fleet.

Maybe.

Especially if Greelanx had been paid to cut and run as soon as he could justify a withdrawal.”

“Under what circumstances should we not attempt to engage the Imperial fleet?” Jiliac asked.

“If Shild’s fleet has a Victory Star Destroyer or—worse–one of the Imperial Star Destroyers, forget it, Your Excellency. But the Imps tend to assign older vessels to duty out here in the Rim. So maybe there’s a chance.”

Jabba was obviously impressed by Han’s knowledge. “Another reason why you are the right person to undertake this mission, Han my boy. You will be able to assess the strength of the Mof’s fleet, as few others could do.”

Han looked over at Chewbacca. Even without asking the Wookiee, he could see that Chewie wanted to go for it—to do anything they could to help their adopted home. Han thought about Shug’s spacebarn, and all the good times he’d had there with his friends. Sure, he’d had dreams of living a respectable life, of becoming a real “citizen”—but those dreams were in the past. He was a smuggler now, and probably a smuggler forever. He liked being a smuggler.

Thoughts of the towers of Nar Shaddaa in flames, of innocent sentients slaughtered, decided him. “All right. I’ll get in to see Greelanx and talk to him.”

“Emphasize that this is an offer no sentient in his right mind could refuse,” Jiliac said. “We will pay well.”

“I’ll make sure he understands,” Han said.

“When can you leave?” Jabba wanted to know. “Time is short.”

“Get me the uniform and the ID and I’ll leave tonight,” Han said. “All I have to do is get a haircut …”

It felt very strange to be back in uniform again, Han decided as he walked casually along the permacrete of the Imperial base on Teth three days later. He tried not to fidget in his gray uniform with its blue and red lieutenant’s insignia. Wearing the short-brimmed cap again felt odd, too.

And he missed his old boots. These new boots weren’t properly broken in, and were a shade too small. They pinched his toes.

The sentry at the gate had scanned his ID, then given only a cursory glance at Han’s orders before saluting and waving him through.

Han was watching for a special group of young officers. There should be shuttles going up to the Admiral’s flagship, the Dreadnaught Imperial Destiny, throughout the afternoon, filled with officers and enlisted men reporting aboard after their last few hours of leave.

They’d be spending the next week preparing the big ship for its mission against the Hutt worlds. From what Han had been able to tell from passing the fleet while making their landing approach, Greelanx’s force consisted of three Dreadnaughts—the Imperial Destiny, the Pride of the Senate, and the Peacekeeper—four bulk cruisers, plus nearly a score of customs and patrol ships, including some Guardian-class light cruisers and a couple of Carrackclass light cruisers. Lots of TIE fighters in the holds of the bigger ships, of course.

Certainly enough power to utterly destroy Nar Shaddaa, but it wasn’t as bad as it could be. Han had seen no Star Destroyers, and it was a safe bet that if Greelanx’s squadron included one, that would be his flagship.

As he walked along, Han noticed a milling group of young officers queuing up before an Imperial shuttle. Here I go, he thought, walking purposefully up to them, then falling in at the back of the line. Now that he was back in the uniform, his shoulders were automatically straighter, his steps more precise, his eyes forward.