Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 01_ The Paradise Snare - A. C. Crispin [85]
Clever old monster, Bria thought, hating Teroenza as she’d never hated anyone before in her life. There’s no way around his argument without my committing blasphemy.
She took a long, deep breath, to give herself time to think. “Very well, Exalted One,” she said meekly. “If you say this is the will of the One and the All, I must bow to it. I will be a good wife to Ganar Tos.” Gritting her teeth inwardly, she forced herself to lay her hand on his warty green arm.
“Good, Pilgrim,” Teroenza said, raising his arms to begin the ceremony.
“But, Exalted One,” Bria raised her voice slightly, “I must follow the customs of my own people before I can consider myself legally married.” Before the priest could refuse her, she hurried on, “They are simple, and easily fulfilled, Exalted One. I ask for but a day to purify myself and meditate upon the sacred state of marriage. Also, on Corellia, it is traditional for a woman to wear a green gown to her wedding. I can easily ask the tailor droid to prepare one for me by tomorrow evening.”
Bria held her breath as Teroenza hesitated. Finally, the High Priest must have decided that she wasn’t asking for that much. “Very well, Pilgrim 921,” he boomed. Ganar Tos’s face fell. “Tomorrow evening, before the entire assembly, you and Ganar Tos shall be joined. May the blessing of the One and the All be upon you.”
Teroenza sketched a quick sign in the air, and then turned and lumbered away.
Ganar Tos headed purposefully for Bria. “I will walk you back to your dorm,” he said.
“Very well,” she agreed, but she pulled away when he tried to put an arm around her. “The groom must not touch the bride during the last day before the ceremony,” she cooed, lying through her teeth. “Another Corellian tradition. Surely you can wait one short day, my groom-to-be?”
He nodded shortly. “Very well, wife-to-be. I swear to you, I will be a good husband. It is my fondest wish that we will be blessed with many children.”
“That is my fondest wish, too,” Bria said sweetly. Within the voluminous sleeves of her robes, she crossed all the fingers of both hands.
Please, Vykk, she thought frantically, hurry back! Please!
Han and Nebl made good time on their return trip, and Han guided the Ylesian Dream down through the clouds on the nightside. They saw several spectacular storm cells lit up from within by lightning, but when they landed at Colony One an hour or so past midnight in the short Ylesian night, it was not, for a miracle, raining. Jalus Nebl turned to Han and commented, “Nice landing. I can’t say I’ve ever done better.”
Han smiled at the praise and was still grinning happily as they came down the ramp and onto the landing field. Both he and the Sullustan had to hastily don their infrared goggles—the night was dead-black, and not a single star was visible.
“Well, I’m off to get a few hours of sleep, lad,” the Sullustan said as he turned to head for the infirmary, where he was still under treatment, though he was no longer having to breathe filtered air. “Good night.”
“Night, Nebl,” Han answered, and he turned, yawning, toward the path that led to the Administration Center. My bunk’s gonna feel awful good, he thought. Think I’ll sleep in and—
Without warning, something large grabbed him from behind, and a furred paw-hand clamped over his mouth to stifle his yell of surprise. Han gasped as he was lifted clean off the path and carried a few steps into the jungle. Then a familiar voice breathed into his ear, “Muuurgh is sorry to have to do that, but Vykk was going to yell. We must be quiet.”
The Togorian set the Corellian on his feet again, and Han took a deep breath, preparatory to giving the giant alien a good scolding about not scaring people on dark nights. Muuurgh shook his furry head, and something about his expression, as seen through the infrared goggles, stopped Han in midword. Instead he asked quietly, “What’s wrong?”
“I found Mrrov,” Muuurgh said. “Pilot