Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 01_ The Paradise Snare - A. C. Crispin [34]
“Yeah,” Han snarled. “The climate in this place is miserable. Nobody deserves to live in this dump.”
“I quite understand, sir,” the droid said, actually managing to sound sympathetic. “May I offer the contents of this jar? It should prevent fungal growths with regular application.”
“Thanks,” Han said shortly, and retired to treat the affected areas. The stuff smelled horrible, but it soothed the irritation. Then he got dressed, admiring himself in his first real pilot’s uniform. The colorful patches looked quite spiffy.
Han refused to let himself worry about the pilgrims he’d seen last night. Nobody had forced the weak-minded fools to come here, so he wasn’t going to waste any time imagining their fate. He was going to take care of Han Solo—or, more accurately, he was going to take care of Vykk Draygo.
Besides, Han told himself, I’m going to be piloting for these Ylesians. I’ll have access to a ship. If I decide I don’t like it, I’ll just take my money and … vanish. What can they do to stop me, after all?
Feeling cocky, Han smiled at his reflection in the mirror and gave himself a snappy salute. “Cadet Han Solo reporting for duty, sir!” he whispered, trying it on for size. His dream of the Academy had never seemed so close, so attainable.
When Han stepped out of the infirmary, the first person he saw was Teroenza. Han nodded pleasantly to his employer. “Good morning, sir!”
The High Priest inclined his massive head. “And to you, Pilot Draygo. Allow me to present someone you are going to be spending a lot of time with, during your employment with us.” The High Priest beckoned, and Han heard someone behind him. He whirled around, and couldn’t stop himself from taking a quick step back.
His first impression was of height, and the second was of sharp teeth and knifelike claws. This being stood nearly three meters tall, taller even than a Wookiee. The creature had a mouthful of needlelike fangs, and claws that looked like they could rip through durasteel. It was furred, but it wore a pair of breeches. A curved knife hung on its belt, and a holstered blaster was strapped to its thigh. Sleek muscles rippled everywhere.
The newcomer grinned, baring even more of those teeth. “Greetings …” it said, speaking Basic with a pronounced lisp.
“This is Muuurgh,” Teroenza introduced the being. “He’s a Togorian, one of the most honorable sentients in this galaxy. The Togorian reputation for honesty and loyalty is unparalleled, did you know that?”
Han looked up at the huge being and swallowed. “Uh, no …” he managed.
“We’ve assigned Muuurgh to be your … bodyguard, Pilot Draygo. On planet or off, Muuurgh will accompany you everywhere … isn’t that correct, Muuurgh?”
“Muuurgh has given word of honor,” the Togorian affirmed.
The High Priest folded his undersized arms across his massive body, and his mouth curved up in what almost appeared to be a mocking smile. “Muuurgh is going to make very sure, Pilot Draygo, that no matter where you go, or what you do … you will be … safe.”
Han stared at the huge, black-furred creature, realizing that the jig was definitely up. Teroenza’s meaning was unmistakable—step out of line, and Muuurgh will rip you in two. Han eyed the Togorian, realizing that the alien could easily do just that.
He managed to pull himself together and smiled up at the Togorian. “Pleased to meet you, Muuurgh,” he said. “It’ll be nice to have real company on those long flights.”
“Yess …” the bodyguard said, stepping closer. Han realized with dismay that the top of his head barely reached the Togorian’s breastbone. The alien appeared so feline that Han was surprised to realize he didn’t have a tail. “Muuurgh enjoys space travel …” the bodyguard said in his strongly accented, lisping Basic. His facial fur was black, but his whiskers