Star Wars_ The New Rebellion - Kristine Kathryn Rusch [59]
Han lowered his blaster.
Chewie moaned.
“It’s okay, Chewie,” Han said. “I think we can trust the little guy. For the moment.”
Chewie lowered his bowcaster, but kept a tight grip on it all the same.
“What do you think I can do?” Han said.
Seluss chittered softly.
“I think you have a better chance of discovering who’s paying for the equipment than I do.”
Seluss shook his head, speaking all the time.
“Resources? You have all the resources here. You’re the ones dealing with the buyers. Just take it a step further.”
Seluss shook his head really hard now, speaking so fast that Han almost lost the thread. Almost.
“All three of them had tried to go beyond the buyers? And all three turned up dead?” He whistled between his teeth. “And Jarril tried to trace the source, too?”
Seluss bowed his head. His chitter was soft, almost hesitant.
“Jarril came to me.” Han sighed and lowered the blaster all the way. Now Jarril was missing. Han didn’t like the sound of this. If Jarril had died for coming to him, then whoever had killed Jarril would be gunning for Han next. “Wonderful.”
Seluss chittered apologetically.
Chewie looked somber. Things were worse than they had known. A lot worse.
“All right,” Han said to Seluss. “What’s the plan?”
Seluss glanced at Chewie, then at Han. Finally, the Sullustan chittered.
“You don’t have a plan?!” Han swung his blaster in disgust. Seluss ducked. Han didn’t have his finger on the trigger. He didn’t understand the Sullustan’s overreaction. “You don’t have a plan. No one ever has a plan. How come no one ever has a plan?”
Chewie roared.
Seluss, cowering near the mildewy cots, chittered.
“You thought I would have a plan? I just found out about this, pal. Chewie, you make the plan.”
Chewie shook his head.
“Great,” Han said. “Just great. I come here as a favor to a man who has disappeared and he doesn’t even leave me with a plan.”
Seluss chittered softly.
“Thanks a lot,” Han said. “But somehow I believe this has more to do with Jarril’s poor management skills than his faith in my brilliance.”
Or maybe it had to do with Jarril’s very real fear on the day of the bombing. Maybe Jarril couldn’t plan any further ahead.
Seluss was watching Han through gloved hands. Chewie was pretending to check his bowcaster.
“Of course I’ll come up with a plan,” Han said. “Don’t I always?”
Chewie growled.
“I don’t guarantee quality, fuzzball. I don’t even guarantee it’ll work. I just guarantee movement.” Han glared at both of them. “And for now, that’ll have to be good enough.”
Seventeen
Cole backed away from Skywalker’s X-wing and hurried to the nearest completed upgrade. The R2 unit was beeping at him, as if it was chastising him for abandoning his post.
“Listen, Artoo,” Cole said. “If we’re going to work together, then you’re going to have to trust me.”
Had he just said that to a droid? He shook his head slightly and climbed the work platform to the reconditioned X-wing. Its computer was attached with bolts and he had forgotten his wrench.
Artoo came up behind him, the wrench in his outstretched claw. A few of Cole’s other tools hung from Artoo as if he were part of an Artesian space collage.
“Thanks.” Cole grinned at the little unit. “Guess I’ll have to trust you too.”
Artoo beeped in agreement.
Cole removed part of the panel on the reconditioned X-wing, then leaned back on his heels, whistling softly under his breath. This X-wing had a detonator too.
And so did the next reconditioned X-wing, and the next.
Artoo cheebled urgently and Cole nodded. They were thinking alike. If the reconditioned X-wings had this problem, did the new ones have it too?
That would be a bit more difficult to discover. Cole wasn’t authorized to work on the new X-wings. It didn’t matter. If he got caught, he would report his findings.
To whom? What if someone in the maintenance bay had authorized these systems? Maybe Skywalker hadn’t been so far off when he claimed that his little droid had been imprisoned.
Cole looked at Artoo. Artoo moaned softly.
“Yeah. This is a tough one,