Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 02_ The Hutt Gambit - A. C. Crispin [17]
Han knew instinctively that if he obeyed the command to stop, he’d wind up dead, sooner or later. He didn’t hesitate for even a second. With an earsplitting yell, the Corellian threw himself to the side, hit the ground, rolled, and came up on one knee, blaster in hand.
The Twi’lek’s weapon spat a blue-green burst. Han dodged.
Stun blast!
Han aimed, fired, and the reddish beam struck his attacker mid-torso. He went down, dead or incapacitated. The Corellian made sure the Twi’lek wasn’t getting up anytime soon, then he turned to look for Chewbacca. The Wookiee was leaning heavily against a parked speeder, dazed. He’d evidently been grazed by the stun beam. Han ran over to him, his heart pounding from the rush of adrenaline. “Did he get you bad, pal?”
With a muffled growl, Chewbacca assured his partner that he’d be fine. Han peered up into the Wookiee’s furry face, saw that his eyes were clear, the pupils even. Only then did he draw a long breath of relief. He hadn’t realized until that moment that he was getting used to having the big hairy lug around. If anything had happened to Chewie …
Going over to the Twi’lek, Han knelt down. One glance at the huge blaster wound that had turned the Twi’lek’s chest to blackened slag was enough to tell him the being was dead. Han experienced a quick pang—he’d killed before, but he didn’t like doing it.
Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to search the dead sentient. There was a vibroblade strapped to the inside of a sleeve, another on the calf. On the inside of the other wrist the Twi’lek wore a “wrist vac,” a device that when triggered would send small, deadly blades flying into an opponent’s vitals.
Shoved into his belt, covered by his tunic, was a sleep-inducer. A short-range weapon, but very effective. The Twi’lek could have simply walked up behind Han, stuck the sleep-inducer in his back, then pulled the trigger to send the Corellian off to dreamland.
Han stared at the weapon, his mouth dry. A bounty hunter. Great. Why am I not surprised? This must be Teroenza’s doing. He’s found out I’m alive, and he wants me …
If not for instinct and fast reflexes, Han knew, at this very moment he’d be out cold and on his way back to Ylesia to face a terrible vengeance …
He heard Chewbacca make an anxious sound, glanced up, only to find that the encounter had drawn a crowd.
Abandoning the Twi’lek where he lay, Han stood up, blaster still ostentatiously held in his right hand. The crowd backed away, muttering. The Corellian moved sideways with a dancer’s grace, never turning his back on the crowd, until he and Chewbacca were side by side. He knew someone must’ve summoned planetary security, but he also knew that since the Twi’lek was a bounty hunter, he was more or less outside planetary law. A bounty hunter was presumed able to take care of himself. If the intended prey fought back … well, tough luck.
Moving slowly, step by step, Han and the Wookiee backed away from the crowd until they reached the closest alley. Then, moving like a single entity with one mind, they leaped sideways, and ran.
No one followed them.
Teroenza, High Priest and unofficial master of the steamy world of Ylesia, a world that produced drugs and slaves in impressive amounts, lounged in his sling-seat in his sumptuous apartments while his Zisian majordomo, Ganar Tos, massaged his massive shoulders.
The t’landa Til were enormous creatures, standing nearly as tall as a human male on their four tree-trunklike legs. With their barrel-shaped bodies, tiny arms, and huge heads that somewhat resembled those of their distant cousins, the Hutts—except for the enormous horn protruding from the middle of their faces—the t’landa Til considered themselves the handsomest sentients in the galaxy. The vast majority