Star Wars_ X-Wing 04_ The Bacta War - Michael A. Stackpole [22]
Gavin looked around at the shelves, then smiled. “Huff’s working office is up in the tower. His negotiating office is next door. Once he ushers out whoever is in there, we’ll get to go in. Once he learns you’re from Corellia I bet he finds you some Whyren’s Reserve whisky.”
Mirax smiled. “I’ll take that and maybe make a side deal for any extra he has stashed away.”
“Sure, but remember our main mission.” Corran held up a finger. “We’re looking for weapons, munitions, and spare parts. Anything else we get is extra.”
The two of them nodded, then turned toward the eastern doors. One-half of them slid into the wall and Huff Darklighter entered the library. His belly preceded him by a second or two, but therein the resemblance to a Hutt ended. A coronet of white hair surrounded a pate the color of tanned leather. Darklighter’s arms and shoulders looked powerful and were somehow complemented by the luxuriously full moustache he wore. His dark eyes glittered coldly as he instantly assessed his visitors, but then the corners of his mouth rose.
“Gavin, it is a pleasure.” The tone of voice didn’t seem to quite match the smile as far as Corran was concerned, but the elder Darklighter pulled Gavin into a polite hug, so he assumed there was no problem between them. Huff fingered his moustache. “Darken your hair and grow one of these, and you’d be the spitting image of my Biggs.”
Mirax shot Corran a hooded glance. Corran didn’t think Gavin and Biggs looked anything alike, but he realized Huff Darklighter wasn’t viewing Gavin through the same frame of reference. Huff made Biggs into a hero long before the Rebellion ever did.
Huff drew back from his nephew and smiled toward Mirax and Corran. “I just stepped in here to let you know I’d be a bit yet. Negotiations are delicate.”
“I understand, sir.” Corran started forward and extended his hand toward Huff, but the larger man made no move to match his gesture. “I’m Corran …”
Huff held his hands up. “Time for introductions later, I’m sure. Really, I hate to be rude, but …”
Corran’s emerald eyes shrank into crescents. “Just as I would hate to report to the New Republic that one in ten of the freighters bearing Darklighter products from here burns seven percent more fuel than is necessary—if they’re actually carrying the cargo on the manifest. Suspicious minds might think that means they’re carrying seven percent of their weight in illegal or exotic items, and the trouble you’d have to go to to straighten that mess out would be more than rude.”
What little was left of Huff’s smile melted clean away. “Nasty friends you’ve got here, Gavin.”
“Corran used to be with CorSec, Uncle.”
“Out of your jurisdiction, Corran.”
“True, but I can still be trouble.” Corran turned toward Mirax. “This is Mirax Terrik.”
“Terrik?” Huff’s smile struggled to return to his face. “Related to Booster Terrik?”
“He’s my father.”
“I see.”
“I’m sure you do, sir. Something else you should see is that we’re here to negotiate with you for weapons, munitions, and spare parts you have left over from the looting of an Imperial weapons cache several years ago.”
The smile blossomed in full on Huff’s face. “Imagine that. My current visitor was inquiring about the very same things. This could be amusing.”
Corran saw Huff’s eyes glaze over just imagining the profit potential. “Hey, no one is going to make you a better deal for that stuff than we are. No one.”
“Oh, how interesting.” Huff walked back toward the doorway and rested his left hand on the door that remained closed. “I have some people here who want what you want. They say no one can make me a better deal. Fascinating, no?”
Corran heard a bellow from the other room. Huff shoved the other door open to reveal a huge, powerful man freeing himself from the