Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [122]
The Sljee waiter had returned. Two tentacles whisked two tall glasses off its back-tray while two more placed absorb-mats before Han and Fiolla. “There we are,” the Sljee said cheerfully. “Will that be pay as you go, or shall I put it on a tab?” it asked hopefully. It had already been stiffed twice that day by unscrupulous customers who had taken advantage of its difficulty in differentiating among individual non-Sljee.
“Run the tab,” said Han immediately. The Sljee retreated in disappointment, trying its best to memorize Han’s odor without much confidence.
The Flameouts were perfect, burning their tongues and freezing their throats, making them gasp a bit. “Don’t you think it was stupid to ride out there alone?” Han asked.
“I had a gun,” she argued. “A special, one that doesn’t register on scanners. Lots of execs carry them. How did I know the worthless thing would let me down?”
“Where’s your assistant now?”
“After Magg checks on you he’ll go to our hotel and get ready to leave. It occurred to me that we might have to get off-planet in short order.”
“Very possible,” allowed Han. A sudden thought struck him and he became hostile again. “I owe Magg for damaging my ship, don’t I?”
“I ordered him to try to break in, to see if there was any information onboard; I thought you might just be playing very, very dumb. If you want to get even, you can take me on another swoop ride sometime. By the way, what kind of security system is that you’ve got? Magg was sure he could open up a freighter without breaking stride, but that lock of yours stopped him cold. He said he’d need a tool shop to get in.”
“I like my privacy,” Han explained simply, avoiding the mention of smuggling.
“Magg said it was like trying to crack the Imperial Currency Reserve.”
“Sounds like an experienced guy.”
“Oh, very versatile, yes. I handpicked him because he had, ah, a range of abilities. I think you two will find one another quite—”
At that moment Chewbacca arrived with Spray. The Wookiee forcefully sat the little Tynnan down with the pressure of a giant paw and took a seat himself, filling it to overflowing.
“I met Fiolla here and almost got killed,” Han told his friend pleasantly. “How was your afternoon?”
Chewbacca studied the woman with his large, lucid blue eyes and she returned the scrutiny. Then the Wookiee motioned to Spray and, in his growling, barking language, explained to Han what had happened as the skip-tracer squinted from one to the other.
“I hate skip-tracers,” announced Han Solo at length.
“In that case I think I’ll just be toddling along …” Spray said, starting to rise. Chewbacca clapped a paw on him and pushed him back down.
Han’s head was spinning with this new development, and he wished he could process information as quickly as Blue Max. Theoretically, Spray could enlist the aid of the Espos in taking possession of the Falcon. Once again Han wondered when his string of rotten luck would break.
Just then the Sljee waiter showed up again, having noticed Chewbacca’s and Spray’s presence. It endeavored to speak in its most hospitable tones, still aware of its previous gaff.
“Yes, sir” purred the Sljee to the Wookiee, “and what can I bring you and your strapping young hatchling here?”
Chewbacca snarled at the Sljee. Spray, already visibly disturbed, exploded. “We’re not even the same species!”
“What’ve I told you about that?” Han asked the Sljee menacingly.
“A thousand pardons,” wailed the Sljee, rotating back and forth through nervous quarter-turns and intertwining its tentacles imploringly.
“What in the world is going on?” Fiolla wanted to know, not having understood anything Chewbacca had said.
Spray held his paws-up, webbed fingers spread, until the others were quiet, including the Sljee. “First of all, we have no need of any refreshments, thank you,” the Tynnan told the waiter. The Sljee retreated gratefully.
“Now,” Spray continued, “the central issue, Captain Solo—please stop shushing me, sir; I will be heard! At issue are two thousand five hundred Credits Standard