Star Wars_ The Han Solo Adventures - Brian Daley [185]
Hasti’s temper flared. “For one hop, you and that furball want a full cut?”
Badure held up his hands and bellowed, “Enough!” They quieted. “That’s nicer, kiddies. We are discussing major cash here, plenty for everybody. The breakdown’s this way: a full share for me because I got Hasti off Dellalt alive and Lanni passed what she knew along to both of us, equally. Two shares for Hasti, her own and poor Lanni’s. And for you, Skynx, and the Wook, half-shares each at this point. Depending on who has to do what in the course of finding that treasure, we renegotiate. Agreed?”
Han studied Badure and the seething red-haired girl. “How much are we talking about?” he wanted to know.
The old man inclined his head. “Why not ask him?”
Badure indicated the individual who had come onboard and was following Chewbacca into the forward compartment. Now why did I assume he’d be human? Han wondered.
Skynx was a Ruurian, of average size—a little over a meter long—low to the ground, his natural coat a thick, woolly amber with bands of brown and red. He moved on eight pairs of short limbs with a graceful, rippling motion. Feathery, bobbing antennae curled back from his head. Skynx had big, multifaceted red eyes, a tiny mouth, and small nostrils. Behind him rolled a baggage-robo with several crates and boxes on its flatbed.
Skynx paused and reared up on his last four pairs of extremities. The digits on his limbs, four apiece, were mutually opposable, deft, and very versatile. He waved to the humans. “Ah, Badure,” he called in a rapid, high-pitched voice, “and the lovely Hasti; how are you, young lady? This fine Wookiee I’ve already met. So you would be our captain, sir?”
“Would be? I am. Han Solo.”
“Delighted! I am Skynx of Ruuria, Human History subdepartment, pre-Republic subdivision, whose chair I currently hold.”
“What do you use it for?” Han asked, eying Skynx’s strange anatomy. Seeing no reason to delay where cash was concerned, he inquired, “How much money are we after?”
Skynx poised his head in thought. “There’s so much conflicting information about the Queen of Ranroon, it’s best to say this: Xim the Despot’s treasure vessel was the largest ship ever built in her day. Your guess, sir, is no less plausible than my own.”
Han leaned back and thought about pleasure palaces, gambling planets, star yachts, and all the women of the galaxy who hadn’t been fortunate enough to make his acquaintance. Yet. Chewbacca snorted and returned to the cockpit.
“Count us in,” Han announced. “Tell the baggage clunker to leave your stuff right there, Skynx. Badure, Hasti, make yourselves at home.”
Hasti and Skynx both wanted to watch the liftoff from the cockpit. When they were alone, Badure spoke more confidentially. “There’s one thing I didn’t want the others to hear, Han. I had my ear to the ground, heard about some of the crazy jobs you’ve pulled. Word’s out that somebody’s looking for you. Money’s being spread around, but I haven’t heard any names. Any idea who it might be?”
“Half the galaxy, it feels like sometimes.” There had been many runs, many deals, jobs, and foul-ups. “How should I know?” But his expression hardened, and Badure thought Han had a very good idea who might be seeking him.
* * *
Han stood in the middle of the forward compartment, listening. The tech station and most of the other equipment in the compartment had been shut down to lower the noise level. He could feel the vibrations of the Millennium Falcon’s engines. He heard a quiet sound behind him.
Han spun, crouching, in execution of the speedraw, firing from the hip. The target-remote, a small globe that moved on squirts of repulsor power and puffs of forced air, didn’t quite dodge his beam. Its counterfire passed over him. Deactivated by his harmless tracer beam, the orb hung immobile, awaiting another practice sequence.
Han looked over to where Bollux, the labor ’droid, sat; his chest panels were open. Blue Max, the computer module