Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [184]
He ignored Han’s surprise. Things have been worse than I thought for him, the pilot realized.
“And things weren’t too much better for them,” Badure went on. “You know how those camps can be, and this one was about the worst I’ve seen. We three sort of watched out for one another.
“Lanni had a Pilot’s Guild book and flew a lot of work runs, surface-to-surface stuff. Somewhere she had picked up a log-recorder, one of the ancient disk types. No ship has used one in centuries. She couldn’t read the characters, of course, but there was a figure most beings in this part of space know, the Queen of Ranroon.”
“How’d a log-recorder get to Dellalt?”
“That’s where the vaults are,” Badure said, and that brought some history back to Han. Xim the Despot had left behind legends of whole planets despoiled, of mass spacings of prisoners and other atrocities. And Xim the Despot had ordered that stupendous treasure vaults be built for the tribute to be sent him by his conquering armies. The treasure never arrived, and the vacant vaults, all that remained from Xim’s reign, were a minor curiosity generally ignored by the big, busy galaxy.
“Are you telling me the Queen made it to Dellalt after all?”
Badure shook his head. “But somebody made it there with the log-recorder disk.”
“The disk is in a lockbox in the public storage facility that set up operations in the old vaults,” Hasti told him. “My sister was afraid it would be taken from her, for the mining company runs surprise inspections, barracks searches, and sensor frisks. So she diverted course on a freight run and made the deposit.”
“How’d she get it in the first place? And where is she now?” Han saw the sobering answer on both their faces and wasn’t surprised. The opposition, he had already learned, was in deadly earnest. He abandoned the subject.
“So, off to Dellalt before that rental agent comes looking for his groundcoach.”
But Badure, slapping his ample belly, announced, “We have one more crewman coming. He’s on his way now. I canceled our public-carrier reservations so the line will refer him directly here.”
“Who? What do we need him for?” Han was reluctant to involve too many in this treasure hunt.
“His name is Skynx; he’s a ranking expert on pre-Republic times in this part of space. And he reads ancient languages; he’s already deciphered some characters Lanni had copied from the log-recorder disk. Good enough for you?”
Conditionally. Somebody, Han saw, would have to decipher the disk to find out what had happened to the Queen. Removing his vest, Han began disencumbering himself of the shoulder holster. “Next question: who’s the opposition?”
“The mine operators. You know how the Tion works. Somebody pays someone in the Ministry of Industry and gets a permit. The mining outfit carves up the terrain any which way, grabs what it can, and gets out long before any inspectors or legal paperwork catch up with them. They usually get their financing from some crime boss.
“This outfit’s run by twins. The woman’s name is J’uoch and her brother’s R’all. They have a partner, Egome Fass, their enforcer. He’s a big, mean humanoid, a Houk, even taller than Chewie there. All three came up the hard way, and that’s how they play.”
Han had buckled on his gunbelt and holster and transferred his blaster. “So I saw. And all you want is for us to get you to Dellalt and get you off?”
Just then the intercom carried the Wookiee’s news that someone was signaling for permission to board. “That’ll be Skynx,” Badure told him. Han passed word to admit the academician.
“If you’ll get us to the vaults and off Dellalt again,” Badure resumed, “I’ll pay you twice your usual first-asking price, out of the treasure. But if you throw in with us, you and the Wook can split a full share of the take.”
Hasti cried, “Half-share!” just as Han protested, “Full share each!” They glared at each other. “Wound up a little too tight are we, sweetheart?