• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

“Hey, I can’t let you do that,” Han protested, watching the cook set the loaves into pans and slide them into the thermal grid to bake. “I’ll be okay. I’ll lift some credits on my way to the robot ship. Don’t worry, Dewlanna.”

The Wookiee ignored him as she shuffled quickly across the galley, her hairy, slightly stooped form moving rapidly despite her advanced age. Dewlanna was nearly six hundred years old, Han knew. Old even for a Wookiee.

She disappeared into the door of her private living quarters, and then, a moment later, reappeared, clutching a pouch woven of some silky material that might even, from the look of it, be Wookiee fur.

She held it out to him with a soft, insistent whine.

Han shook his head again, and childishly put his hands behind his back. “No,” he said firmly. “I’m not taking your savings, Dewlanna. You’ll need those credits to buy passage to join me.”

The Wookiee cocked her head and made a short, questioning sound.

“Of course you’re going to join me!” Han said. “You don’t think I’m going to leave you here to rot on this hulk, do you? Shrike gets crazier every year. Nobody’s safe aboard the Luck. When I get to Ylesia and get settled in, I’m going to send for you to join me. Ylesia’s a religious retreat, and they offer their pilgrims sanctuary. Shrike won’t be able to touch us there.”

Dewlanna reached inside the pouch, her hairy fingers surprisingly dexterous as she sifted through the credit vouchers inside. She handed several to her young friend. With a sigh, Han relented and took them. “Well … okay. But this is just a loan, okay? I’m going to pay you back. The salary the Ylesian priests are offering is a good one.”

She growled her assent, then, without warning, reached out to ruffle his hair with her massive paw, leaving it sticking out in wild disarray. “Hey!” Han yelped. Wookiee head rubs were not to be taken lightly. “I just combed my hair!”

Dewlanna growled, amused, and Han drew himself up indignantly. “I do not look better scruffy. I keep telling you, the term ‘scruffy’ ain’t complimentary among humans.”

He stared at her, his indignation vanishing as he realized that this was the last time he’d see her beloved furry face, her gentle blue eyes, for a long time. Dewlanna had been his closest—and frequently only—friend for so long now. Leaving her was hard, very hard.

Impulsively, the Corellian youth threw himself against her warm, solid bulk, hugging her fiercely. His head reached only to the middle of her chest. Han could remember when he’d barely stood as tall as her waist. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, his face muffled against her fur, his eyes stinging. “You take care of yourself, Dewlanna.”

She roared softly, and her long, hairy arms came around him as she returned the embrace.

“Well, ain’t this a touching sight,” said a cold, all-too-familiar voice.

Han and Dewlanna both froze, then wheeled to face the man who’d entered through the Wookiee’s quarters. Garris Shrike lounged in the doorway, his handsome features set in a smile that made Han’s blood coagulate in his veins. Beside him, he could feel Dewlanna shudder, either with fear or loathing.

Two other crew members—Larrad Shrike and Brafid the Elomin—were visible over Shrike’s shoulder. Han balled his fists with frustration. If it had only been Shrike, he might’ve chanced jumping the Luck’s Captain. With Dewlanna to help him, they might have been able to subdue Garris, but with Larrad and the Elomin also present, they didn’t have a chance.

Han was acutely conscious of the stolen blaster shoved into his belt. For a moment he considered going for it, but he abandoned that idea. Shrike was known for being fast on the draw. There was no way he could beat him, and that might get both Dewlanna and himself killed. Shrike was clearly in a rage.

Han licked dry lips. “Listen, Captain,” he began. “I can explain—”

Shrike drew himself up, his eyes narrowing. “You can explain what, you cowardly little traitor? Stealing from your family? Betraying those who trusted you? Stabbing your benefactor in the back, you sniveling