Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [175]
Han covered Keek’s small bud of a nose with the muzzle of his blaster. The security chief’s bulging eyes crossed, watching the weapon. “That little trick of yours wasn’t nice, Keek; I hate sneaks even more than hijackers. I want Hissal’s people and my cargo back onboard this ship in five minutes or else you’re going to have the wind whistling through your ears.”
When Hissal’s freed colleagues and the controversial cargo were back onboard, Han brought Keek to the ramp’s head. “The Empire will hear of this,” the Brigian vowed. “It’s the death sentence for you.”
“I’ll try not to lose sleep over it,” Han replied dryly. With the ship’s forged papers he had used this trip, he doubted any law agency would be able to trace him. Moreover this would be, by the preoccupied Empire’s lights, a very minor incident. “And do yourself a favor: don’t try anything funny when you get clear. There’s nothing on this planet with enough fire power to take this ship, but you might make me mad.”
Keek looked at the other Brigians. “What of them?”
Han sounded casual. “Oh, I’ll drop them off somewhere away from the noise and the crowds. It’s legal; a spacer can contract for a surface-to-surface hop if he wants. We’re going to take a long orbit, so Hissal can try out his broadcasting rig, hook it into ship’s power systems.”
Keek was no fool. “With that much altitude and power, he’ll be reaching every receiver on the planet!”
“And what do you think he’ll say?” Han asked innocently. “Something about what the New Regime’s pulling? It’s nothing to me, of course, but I told you pulling a gun on me would be a mistake. I’d be thinking about early retirement if I were you.”
Chewbacca gave the security chief a shove to start him on his way. Han closed the hatch. “By the way,” he called over to Bollux, “thanks for handing me that scroll during the fight.”
The ’droid replied with characteristic modesty. “After all, sir, the inspector had said it was for you. I can only hope there’ll be no repercussions, Captain.”
“What for?”
“For destabilizing a planetary government to get even for having your ship shot up, sir.”
“Serves them right for cheating!” Han Solo declared.
III
HAN stepped into the sunlight of Rudrig’s brief afternoon with the balance of his pay safe in his pocket. Around him the spires, domes, towers, and other buildings that housed this part of the university stood in harmony with the lacy flowers, thick-boled trees, and purple lawns.
The university made use, in one fashion or another, of the entire planet. Its vast campuses and housing, recreation, and field training sectors were scattered over the globe. Students from all over the Tion Hegemony were compelled to come here or else leave the Tion entirely if they wanted advanced education of top quality. Centralization wasn’t the best method of offering schooling, Han supposed, but was symptomatic of the languid, inept Hegemony.
He idly studied passers-by for a moment, noting many species flocking between classes, holding conversations, or playing assorted sports and various instruments. Stepping gingerly across a broad boulevard between rolling service automata, quiet mass-transit vehicles, and small ground-effect cargo transporters, he ascended a low access platform and boarded a local passenger beltway. It zipped him along between huge lecture halls and auditoriums, theaters, administrative buildings, a clinic, and a variety of classroom configurations.
Reading the glowing route markers and recalling the coordinates he had memorized from a holo-map, he stepped off the beltway again at that sector’s spa, an annex of its sprawling recreation center. He had just started for the spa when he heard a voice. “Hey there, Slick!”
Han hadn’t gone by that nickname in many years. Still, as he turned he kept his right hand high and near his left lapel. Though the carrying of weapons was prohibited on this quiet world, having one, Han’s pragmatic