“Ready,” Shug confirmed. “I tell you, Han, when this is all over, if I’m not dead, I’m going to sleep for a week.”
Salla punched her friend’s arm. “Don’t talk like that, it’s bad luck!”
“Did you find a rear gunner?” Han asked.
“Yeah, Rik volunteered to handle those rear missile launchers,” Salla said.
“He says he’s a good gunner.”
“He’s right,” Han said. “But … don’t leave him alone in your ship, loan him money, or give him the security access codes to anything you value, okay?”
Salla grinned. “Yeah, we’ve been warned about him. Light-fingered even with his own kind, right?”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Han said. “Did I tell you we’ve got some good news?”
“No, what?”
“Mako had been planning to command the resistance from Renthal’s Fist.
But a couple of days ago we realized we’d got lucky. Guess who got so wrapped up in motherhood that she forgot to send a pilot to bring her yacht back to Nal Hutta? And guess whose calls to her favorite pilots have somehow failed to go through, because communications between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa are so overloaded these days?”
Salla began to grin. “You mean the Dragon Pearl is still here?”
“Yeah. And unlike her nephew, Jabba, Jiliac’s conscientious about keeping her combat-ready. She’s got six Headhunters, and we’ve checked ‘em out. All in prime working order. We’ve got pilots for ‘em, too.
Plus a gunnery crew for Mako, and we talked Blue into piloting. Her ship is too slow to help us out much, but she’s a good pilot, too good to be wasted. That way Mako can concentrate on his tactical screens, keepin’ track of everything.”
Shug whistled softly. “That yacht will be a big help. Not too great on armor, but nice weaponry and good shields.”
“But if it gets shot up, Jiliac is going to have somebody’s hide for a wall decoration …” Salla mused. “I guess we have to take the chance, though. We need every bit of firepower we have.” “Well, we’re keepin’ it quiet about who is actually gonna be aboard Dragon Pearl” Han said. “And if Mako has to take a nice long vacation on Smuggler’s Run while Jiliac gets over it, he says he’s prepared to do that.” He grinned. “Blue promised him she’d make his stay …
interesting.”
Shug shook his head, and Salla snorted. “I’ll just bet she will!”
Clad in a pilot’s pressurized flight suit, Roa stood on the permacrete of the landing pad, looking down at the beautiful blond woman who stood before him, tears in her eyes. “Take it easy, Lwyll,” he said. “Don’t worry. I’ll be careful.”
“Please …” she said, clutching his forearms with her hands, “please come back to me, Roa. Life wouldn’t be worth much without you.”
“I promise I’ll come back,” the older smuggler vowed. “The Lwyll is a good ship. She’ll take care of me, just like you would. That’s why I named her that.”
He leaned over and gave her a kiss. “Besides, this is just another drill, honey. You’ve come out here and kissed me good-bye eight times now, and I’ve always been back within half an hour or so. This is just like that.”
She nodded, but a tear broke loose and slid down her cheek. “I love you, Roa.”
“And I love you, Lwyll. I’m coming back, honey. I’m going to go straight. And we’re going to get married. You’ll see. It’ll be all right.”
She nodded. “Okay. You’d better go.” “Right. Don’t want to be late for the drill!”
Grinning, Roa hoisted his stocky form up into the cockpit of the Lwyll, a modified Redthorn-class scoutship, fast and maneuverable, but lightly armed with only forward-firing triple lasers. The little ship looked like a needle-pointed cylinder, with a stubby delta wing. Almost as fast as a TIE fighter, the Lwyll possessed an overwhelming advantage in a dogfight—she had shields.
Roa looked down at his bride-to-be, standing on the permacrete, waving to him, and he grinned down at her, then gave her a thumbsup sign.
Then he checked his instruments, strapped himself in, and put on his helmet. In order to achieve maximum speed and power to his weaponry, he’d elected to forgo diverting power to life support.
Easing forward on the throttle, then activating the belly thrusters, he sent his little ship climbing, climbing, up and away. Glancing down, he tried to make out Lwyll’s bright head, but she was lost in the distance.