The face was broad, with two bulbous, protruding eyes, and covered with leathery grayish-tan skin. No visible ears, and only slits for nostrils.
Above the nostril slits was a large, blunt horn that was nearly as long as Han’s forearm. The mouth was a wide, lipless split in the huge head. Han shook his own pounding head and managed to sit up, noting from his surroundings that he appeared to be in some type of infirmary. A medical droid hovered across the room, lights flashing.
His host (if that was who the creature was) was big, Han realized.
Much bigger even than a Wookiee. It somewhat resembled a Berrite, in that it walked on four tree-trunklike legs, but it was far larger.
This creature’s head was appended to a short, humped neck that was attached to a massive body. Han figured its back would reach his shoulders when he was standing up. The leathery skin covering its body hung in creases, wrinkles, and loose folds, especially on its short, almost nonexistent neck. The skin shone with an oily gleam.
The four short legs ended in huge, padded feet. A long, whippy tail was carried curled over its back. For a moment Han wondered if the creature had any manipulatory limbs, but then he noticed two undersized arms that were folded against its chest, half-hidden by the loose folds of neck skin. The being’s hands were delicate, almost feminine, with four long, supple fingers on each hand.
The being opened its mouth and spoke in accented, but understandable Basic. “Greetings, Mr. Draygo. Allow me to welcome you to Ylesia.
Are you a pilgrim?”
“But I’m not …” Han muttered, his head spinning. For a moment the name didn’t connect, then things snapped into place. Of course.
He clamped his mouth shut, thinking that maybe he’d gotten a worse knock on the head than he’d realized. Vykk Draygo was the alias whose ID he’d currently been carrying.
Han had several alter egos, with proper documentation to back them up.
Ironically, he had nothing by way of ID under his true name.
“Sorry,” he muttered, holding his hand to his head, hoping his slip would be excused as a result of his head injury. “I’m still kind of shaken up, I guess. No, I’m not a pilgrim. I came here to answer a job advertisement for someone—preferably a Corellian—to do the piloting here.”
“I see. But how did you happen to be aboard our ship when it crashed?”
the creature inquired.
“I wanted to reach Ylesia as quickly as possible, so I took the opportunity to stow away on the Ylesian Dream,” Han said. “I’d have had to wait a week for a commercial flight, and the ad said a pilot was urgently needed. Did you get my message?”
“Yes, we did,” the being said. Han watched it intently, wishing he could read its expression. “We were expecting you—but not in the Ylesian Dream.”
“See, I brought the ad with me.” Han reached for his jumpsuit that was hanging over a chair beside the bed and extracted the holo-cube that featured the Ylesian advertisement he’d replied to. “It says you need someone to start right away.”
He handed the cube over. “So … Vykk Draygo here, and I’m applying for this job. I’m Corellian, and I fit all your qualifications. I just ˇ . .
well, I wanted to say that I’m sorry about crashing the Dream. Your ship’s a different model than any I ever piloted, but a couple of hours on a simulator will fix that. And I’m afraid that your atmospheric currents came as a surprise.”
The being scanned the cube, then placed it on the table. The corners of the massive, lipless mouth turned upward slightly. “I see. Mr. Draygo, I am the Most Exalted High Priest of Ylesia, Teroenza. Welcome to our colony. I am impressed at your initiative, young human.
Traveling aboard a robot ship in order to answer our ad so quickly speaks well for you.”
Han frowned, wishing his head didn’t hurt quite so much. “Well . .
.
thanks.”
“I am impressed that you managed to control and land a robot craft.
Few human pilots have been able to react quickly enough to deal with this world’s challenging weather patterns. The damage to our ship is not serious, and repairs are already under way. You landed on soft ground, which was fortunate.”
“Does that mean I get the job?” Han asked eagerly. Great! They’re not mad!
“Would you be willing to sign a year’s contract?” Teroenza asked.
“Maybe,” Han said, leaning back and relaxing, hands behind his head.
“How much?”
The High Priest named a sum that made Han smile inwardly. Even though it was more money than he’d hoped for, he was too much of a trader not to automatically bargain.