THE HUTT GAMBI(80)

Moments later he was in the admiral’s large inner office, with its tasteful furnishings and viewport that allowed the admiral to admire his squadron as they hung in orbit.

Greelanx was a stocky man of medium height, with thinning gray hair and a small, squarish mustache. He was standing behind his desk when Han entered, looking somewhat alarmed. “Lieutenant? You bring a message from my wife?”

Han took a deep breath and said, “Sir, what I have to convey can only be said in utter privacy, sir.”

Greelanx studied him for a moment, then beckoned Han closer and slapped a control beneath his desk. “Privacy screen on, and jamming activated,” he said. “Now, tell me what this is all about.” Han held out the ring. “Admiral, I bring you a gift from the Hutt Lords of Nal Hutta. They want to deal.”

Greelanx’s eyes lit up at the sight of the valuable piece of jewelry, but he did not touch it. “I see,” he said. “I can’t say I’m surprised, either.

The slugs don’t want to have their comfortable, crime-ridden lives disturbed, eh?”

Han nodded. “That’s about the size of it, Admiral. And they are willing to pay well for the privilege. We’re talking all the Lords of Nal Hutta, here. They are prepared to be very generous.”

Greelanx finally allowed himself to pick up the ring and examine it, then he slipped it onto his finger. It fitted perfectly. “Suits you very well, sir,” Han said.

“Yes, it does,” Greelanx agreed. He toyed with the ring, sliding it back and forth thoughtfully. “I must admit, I find the Hutt offer . .

.

tempting,” he said, finally. “Especially since I plan to retire next year.

It would be nice to have a chance to … augment … my pension.”

“I quite agree, sir.”

“But my orders are clear, and I cannot go against them,” Greelanx said, slipping the ring off and holding it out toward Han. “I’m afraid we cannot do business, young man.”

Han tensed, but made himself stay calm. He could tell Greelanx was really tempted. “Sir, what are your orders?” he asked. “Perhaps we can think of something that will benefit us both, and yet leave you free of any charge of wrongdoing.”

Greelanx laughed bitterly, a short, bitten-off laugh. “Hardly, young man.

My orders are to enter the Hutt system, execute order Base Delta Zero upon the Smuggler’s Moon, Nar Shaddaa, and then blockade Nal Hutta and Nar Hekka until the Hutts agree to allow full customs inspections and a complete military presence on their worlds. The Moff doesn’t want to cripple the Hutts too badly, but he wants Nar Shaddaa reduced to rubble.”

Han swallowed, his mouth dry. Base Delta Zero was an order that called for the decimation of a world—all life, all vessels, all systems—even droids were to be captured or destroyed. His worse nightmare come true.

“Admiral … have you completed your battle plan?” Han asked.

“My staff has been working on it,” Greelanx said. “And I am reviewing it now. Why?”

“The Hutts would like to purchase the detailed plan, sir,” Han said.

“Name your price.”

Greelanx was obviously intrigued by Han’s statement. “Buy the battle plan?” he said, his voice expressing surprise. “What good will that do you?”

“Give us a fighting chance, perhaps, sir,” Han said.

“Us?” the admiral looked sharply at Han. “You’re one of them? A smuggler?”

“Yes, sir.”

Greelanx shrugged. “I’m surprised,” he admitted. “You wear the uniform well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Han said, and he meant it.

Greelanx paced slowly around the office, obviously thinking, tossing the ring up and then catching it. Finally, he came to stand before Han again.

“You’re saying that your Hutt employers will pay me what I ask for my battle plan,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” Han said. “For that, and for taking the first reasonable, strategically justifiable opportunity to withdraw your squadron. We’ll take care of the rest.”

“Hmmmmmm …” Greelanx thought some more, then, finally, as if making a decision, he slipped the ring back on his finger. “Very well, young man, we have a deal,” he said. “I want my payment in gems …

small, easy to dispose of, and not terribly traceable. I shall make you a list of the types and weights I wish.”

“Fine, sir,” Han said. “You do that.”

“Sit down, over there.” Greelanx pointed to a couch across his office.

“I’ll finish reviewing the battle plan, and then you can have it.”