Okay?”
The crowd indicated their approval of Mako’s words with a muted buzz of applause. In the front of the crowd, a Gotal yelled, “Go on, Mako!”
“Okay.” Mako held up his right hand, and used his left to tick off points on his fingers as he spoke. “Fact number one. Fellow sentients and inhabitants of Nar Shaddaa … we are in a world of trouble.
Within a week, a squadron of Imperial vessels is going to be dispatched from Teth, sent by our own beloved Moff, Sarn Shild. This squadron has orders to wipe us out. Not give us a bloody nose, or destroy some of our ships. I mean they’re going to do their best to see that no more smuggling happens out of Nar Shaddaa—ever. The place will be a smoking ruin.”
A murmur of fear ran through the auditorium as the assembled smugglers tried to assimilate Mako’s words.
“Fact number two,” Mako went on, “we’re on our own for this one, folks.
The Hutts have just spent a bundle of credits installing brandnew planetary defense shields so they can hide behind ‘em on Nal Hutta, while the Imp fleet uses up their ammo on us. The Hutts have, by report, hired a small fleet of mercs to come in and help defend them, but their primary strategy is just to let the Imps have Nar Shaddaa, and hope that’ll satisfy ‘em.”
Boos, hisses, and catcalls of all kinds filled the space, drowning Mako out. The smugglers howled their rage, their threats, their anger at the Hutts. It was nearly five minutes before Mako could make himself heard again.
“Yeah, yeah! It makes me mad, too, friends, but what can you do?
They’re Hutts, so whaddaya expect, folks? But anyway that’s the point.
Whatever we do about this, it’s our call. The slugs ain’t gonna help us Out.”
Grumbling, the crowd subsided.
“Okay, fact three. We ain’t exactly helpless, fellow sentients. We have it on good authority that the Imp squadron doesn’t include anything with super-heavy firepower. No Star Destroyers. That’s good news for us. That means we can fight back!”
Mutters of consternation swelled, mingled with yells of determination: “Yeah! We’ll fight! We’ll kick their butts! We wanna fight! Those Imps can’t shoot for sour trig-berries! We ain’t running from a bunch of Imps!
We’ll make ‘em sorry they attacked us!”
Mako grinned. “Hey, fellow sentients, my thoughts exactly. I intend to fight this fleet, and if it’s just me out there in my one ship, so be it.
Nobody is wiping me out without a fight! Nobody!”
This time, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. “Yeah! Mako!
You lead us, Mako! Yeah, we’ll fight!”
Mako motioned for quiet. “All right, those who want to fight, raise their hands, or paws or tentacles or whatever you got. Those who don’t wanna fight—I suggest you take your belongings and your families and head out right now. It’s gonna get dicey around here, real soon.”
Han, who was watching from the wings of the stage, was surprised to see that the vast majority of the assembled beings stayed. Only a couple of dozen sentients got up and left.
Mako waited until they were out of the way before he started in again.
“Okay, folks. First thing we need is for everyone with some battle experience to come on down here to the front. I’m not talkin’ about winging a pirate who got too close, I’m talkin’ real combat experience in space, specially against the Imperials. C’mon down here.”
Over the next several minutes about forty sentients, most of them humanoid, made their way down front. “Okay, guys,” Mako said. “The first thing we need here in planning a counteroffensive is a leader.
Anyone wanna volunteer?”
One of the humanoids, a Bothan, pointed up at the senior smuggler.
“You, Mako! You be our leader!” he shouted.
The crowd reacted enthusiastically to this suggestion, and soon a swelling chant was heard. “Ma-ko! Ma-ko! Ma-ko!! MAKO!”
The chanting went on, gaining in volume, until Han wanted to put his hands over his ears. Mako waved his arms, and silence descended.
“Okay! Okay!” he said, his teeth flashing in a wide grin. “I’m real flattered, folks.
And I swear to you that I’ll do my best for you. I swear it!”
Thunderous cheers erupted again.
“Okay, one more thing, then I’m gonna dismiss you for now,” Mako said.
“I want you to meet my right-hand man, folks. A lot of you know him as a smuggler with a cranky ship and a big, furry sidekick. Han Solo, c’mon out here!”
Han walked out. He and Mako had basically figured that the senior smuggler would get tapped to lead the Nar Shaddaa forces. Things were going just as the two of them had figured they would.