Star Wars_ Millennium Falcon - James Luceno [99]
“Hey, I'm wearing the same pants I've worn for thirty years.”
“He's not kidding about that,” Leia said.
“Of course, it's what's inside that counts,” Sompa went on. “We would have to do scans—”
Allana's tittering burst forth as contagious laughter, leaving the Ho'Din looking confused and possibly embarrassed.
“I'm sorry, Lial,” Thorp said, wiping a tear from her eye. “I'm afraid Princess Leia was having a bit of fun with you. The Solos haven't come for a rejuvenation consultation. They're tracing the history of Captain Solo's famous YT-Thirteen-hundred freighter, the Millennium Falcon.” She turned and pointed out the window. “There— alongside the yacht. The mostly gray ship with the outrigger cockpit.”
Sompa's confusion deepened.
“I owned the Falcon ten years before she came into Captain Solo's possession.”
Sompa opened his mouth in understanding, and he moved to the window and spent several moments staring at the ship. “A YT-Thirteen-hundred, you say?”
“Made by Corellian Engineer—”
“What year?” Sompa said, turning to them abruptly. “What year was it manufactured?”
“I'm not certain of the exact year,” Han said. “Probably a bit more than a hundred years ago.”
Sompa looked at Thorp. “Who owned the ship prior to you, Parlay?”
“I was just about to tell the Solos the story of how I came to own her.”
Sompa swung back to the window. “A ship like that … it's like a survivor from another era …”
“She's a survivor, all right,” Han said. “Forty years ago you could find several dozen YT-Thirteen-hundreds on nearly every major world. Now they're classics.”
“Han uses the terms classic and relic interchangeably,” Leia said, taking Han's arm at the same time.
Sompa looked at Thorp again. “I would love to hear that story at some point, Parlay.”
“Would you? I'm surprised, Lial.”
“Yes, well, I'll leave you to your guests, then.” He turned briefly to Han and Leia. “A pleasure. Enjoy your time at Aurora.”
Thorp waited for Sompa to leave. “A very odd being. But brilliant and very dedicated.”
“And in a rush,” Han said.
“Normally, he is extraordinarily patient.” Thorp shrugged. “Aurora's gardens are beautiful this time of year. Suppose I tell you my tale there?”
“I'll lead,” Allana said and hurried through the door.
The university I attended required that once we received our medical degrees and had interned in medcenters, we spend three years bringing our skills to distant worlds. Many physicians opted to devote all three years to one world in particular, but I had other plans. Bolstered by university grants, contributions, and private donations, I founded Remote Sector Medical, which gradually attracted young physicians who might have had careers in archaeology, linguistics, or exploration had they not chosen medicine. A small fleet of aging starships took us on mercy missions to worlds in the Mid and Outer Rims, distributing medicines, administering inoculations and immunizations, and performing surgeries. We brought our expertise to planets ravaged by plagues and beset by natural catastrophes, and in the end there was scarcely a procedure we wouldn't undertake. It was during this period that I learned to pilot, and long before I completed my three years of compulsory service I realized that I would never be content with a residency in some state-of-the-art medcenter or in private practice on some wealthy world. In fact, I longed to be able to venture even deeper into the galactic arms, where many populations were in dire need of medical care as a result of being ignored by the Empire. Trade had fallen off, many formerly healthy economies were in ruins, and the Emperor had little to offer but lip service, while his Imperial forces focused on strengthening the Core.
Most of the worlds I yearned to visit were, for logistical and financial reasons, beyond the reach of Remote Sector Medical, but all that changed when I became the owner