Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [119]
Spray was burrowing his bucktoothed proboscis into the notebook again and lisping mumbles to himself, insinuating himself between the Wookiee and the Falcon’s main hatch. Chewbacca found himself somewhat off stride; his wrath and threats were sometimes greeted by fear, sometimes by hostility, and occasionally with combat, but never had the towering first mate met anyone quite so preoccupied that he actually paid him no attention.
“Ah, here we are,” Spray went on, having riffled back to the correct page. “Your captain has failed to settle on an outstanding debt of some two thousand five hundred Credits Standard owed to Vinda and D’rag, Starshipwrights and Aerospace Engineers Incorporated, of Oslumpex V. Your Captain Solo has ignored seven—no, eight dunning notices.”
He glared myopically at the Wookiee. “Eight, sir. Vinda and D’rag have therefore presumed default on your captain’s part and referred the matter to my employers. Now, if you’ll be good enough to open the hatch, I can continue the repossession process. Of course, you’re free to remove all personal effects and non—”
Chewbacca had been making deep, reverberating noises in his throat up to now, which someone more familiar with him would have taken as a danger signal. His annoyance burst forth in a roar that drove Spray back a step with its sheer physical impact, ruffling the little skip-tracer’s nose fur and bending back his whiskers.
But he stood waiting patiently, eyes squeezed shut against the vocal gale, as Chewbacca railed horrible Wookiee oaths at him. The Tynnan flinched every now and then as the crescendo rose, his ears swinging back protectively, but he held his ground resolutely. The Falcon’s first mate periodically punctuated his ranting by slamming his enormous fist against the ship’s hull, evoking deep percussives from her armor.
But when he finally ran down, Spray began again in the mildest of tones. “Now then, as I was saying: I have a document here entitling me to take possession of—”
Chewbacca snatched up the papers proffered by Spray. It was a thick legal instrument of several pages; the Wookiee crushed it into a tightly compressed wad in his powerful hands and stuck it into his fanged mouth. Sneering hideously at the skip-tracer, he chomped on the document a few times, shredding it handily, then swallowed it.
But it did little to alleviate his frustration over how to deal with Spray. This was the first time in memory that Chewbacca had ever had such difficulty with a creature whom he outweighed three to one. He was beginning to feel embarrassed; the scene had already attracted the attention of several local idlers and a number of passing automata. The idea of simply demolishing the Tynnan was now out of the question.
“That will do you precisely no good whatsoever, my dear Wookiee,” Spray hastened to assure him. “I have many duplicates. Now, unless your captain is prepared to make immediate and total defrayal of the entire sum of his debt, I’m afraid I must demand that you open that hatch, or permit me to do so.”
Chewbacca surrendered at last, growling and motioning Spray to follow him back down the ramp. He would take the skip-tracer to talk to his partner; he could see no alternative short of losing the ship or committing premeditated murder in a public place.
But Spray was shaking his head briskly, his whiskers quivering. “I’m afraid it just won’t do, my good fellow. It’s too late to begin negotiating; immediate payment or immediate repossession are your only choices.”
In the course of a long life Chewbacca had learned that there come times when the most bellicose roar is insufficient. He clamped one vast paw on either