Star Wars_ The Han Solo Trilogy 02_ The Hutt Gambit - A. C. Crispin [25]
The topmost level of Nar Shaddaa looked like the deepest levels of Coruscant. If this is a top level, Han thought, catching a glimpse of a dizzying plunge down into an artificial canyon between two massive, graffiti-emblazoned buildings, I hate to think what it must be like down there …
Han had been down to the bottommost level of Coruscant—once. It wasn’t an experience he wanted to repeat.
Glancing surreptitiously around at the cityscape of Nar Shaddaa, Han made a mental note to NEVER visit the bottom levels of the Smuggler’s Moon.
Overhead, the sky was a strange color, as though they were looking at a normal blue sky through a dark brownish filter. Nal Hutta hung there, as huge and bloated as the sluglike sentients that called it home. It took up at least ten degrees of the sky. Han realized that Nar Shaddaa must have two nights. One would be the normal long night, when one side of the moon was turned away from the sun. The other relatively short “night” would occur when the sun was eclipsed by the enormous bulk of Nal Hutta. Totality would probably last a couple of hours, Han thought, running a rough calculation in his head.
Chewie groaned and whined. “You’re right, pal,” Han said. “At least on Coruscant they planted trees and ornamental shrubs. I don’t think anything could grow on this slag heap. Not even a lubellian fungus.”
The two headed for a ramp that led down off the landing pad. The ramp wound round and round, and was not well lighted. Although they’d landed in daylight, the towering spires and structures that flanked the building with the landing-pad roof blocked out most of the sunlight as they descended. The enclosed ramp quickly grew dark and shadowy. The rest of the travelers had long since departed, and they were alone in the echoing silence of the high-walled, roofed ramp. Wan glowlights provided dim illumination. Han kept his back to the wall, thinking uneasily that this would be a real good place for an ambush.
His hand dropped to the butt of his blaster—
—just as a blue-green splat of energy from a stun beam came out of nowhere!
Han’s reflexes had always been quick, and weeks of living on the run had honed them to a sharp edge. Before the beam splashed against the wall, he threw himself out of the way, landing flat. He rolled across the permacrete, sideways and down. When he came up, his blaster was ready in his hand.
Han caught a quick glimpse of his assailant—a stocky male humanoid, with a lot of hair on his face. A Bothan, probably. A bounty hunter, almost certainly. The Corellian snapped off a shot but missed, blowing a hole in the permacrete wall. He crouched beside the opposite wall, watching for the bounty hunter to reappear.
Chewbacca howled. Han looked across the ramp at his partner, who was crouched against the curve of the wall, safe for the moment. He made an urgent “stay still!” sign with his hand. Chewbacca glared at him, and hefted his bowcaster emphatically.
What’s he trying to tell me? Han wondered. Chewie roared, and to anyone who didn’t understand Wookiee, the sound he produced would have seemed nothing more than a howl of rage. But Han understood. He nodded at Chewie, then dived down-ramp, firing blindly as he went. Two shots sizzled into the wall, and chips of permacrete flew.
The stun beam screamed past him again, and Han took a deep breath, then yelled with anguish, doubling over and dropping his blaster.
He hit the permacrete and lay there, as if stunned. This had better work …
Steps approached, quick and decisive—
—and then came the whang of the bowcaster being fired. A loud, explosive whump and a short, choked-off scream followed.
Han rolled over and leaped to his feet, just in time to see his assailant slump to his knees, anguish imprinted on every hairy feature. A Bothan, sure enough. His hands were clutching a smoking hole in his