Star Wars - The Corellian Trilogy - Assault At Selonia

by Allen McBride

  "There are lots of good reasons for not killing me,' Han said, trying to stall for time. He tried to sound calm and confident, but Han's tone of voice didn't seem very convincing, even in his own ears.

  "Perhaps you could help me think of a few,' Thrackan said coolly.

  Think, Han told himself. Work it out. Why would Thrackan want him alive? Wait a second. Why were any of them alive? It was obvious that the Human League had deliberately timed its phony uprising to coincide with the trade summit, when lots of off-planet movers and shakers would be on Corellia And all of those brass were staying in the Governor-General's residence, Corona House. If the League had wanted to, it could have blown the building to smithereens, killing everyone inside, decapitating the planetary government at a stroke, and killing the New Republic's Chief of State as well.

  But they had done no such thing. Han had been at Corona House when the assault came. In his best judgment, it had been a clumsily executed surgical strike, not a bungled decapitation attempt. It was clear that the League had intended to bottle up the GovernorGeneral and leia and the rest of the higher-ups in Coronet House by sealing off all the exits and burying them in rubble. That Han had managed to escape was a testament to their incompetence, not their intent.

  It was hard to escape the notion that Thrackan wanted leia and the others for use as bargaining chips, hostages. Suddenly Han understood.

  His cousin was keeping him alive in hopes of using him to ensure leia's cooperation in whatever plots he was hatching. But if he needed something from leia, that meant Thrackan SaleSolo was not the master of all he surveyed, all bluster to the contrary. Han grinned, and this time he wasn't trying to pretend. "There's no reason at all to keep me alive," Han said. "None whatsoever. At least there isn't if you don't care how upset the Chief of State gets. And If she tends to get real angry when members of her family are murdered in cold blood." Thrackan was suddenly angry. "I don't need your Chief of State," he snapped.

  "Then why did you work so hard to capture her?"

  Han demanded. "Why was the revolt timed for the beginning of the trade summit?"

  "Quiet!" Thrackan half shouted. "I'll ask the questions around here. One more word out of you about your wife and I swear I'll kill you myself, here and now, no matter how much I need you alive."

  Han said nothing, but simply smiled, knowing that he had won and that Thrackan knew it. Han had called his bluff.

  Thrackan glared at him and drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. "I had forgotten just how much you used to drive me crazy," he said. "But I think I can at least remind you that it is not wise to try and score points off me. Besides," he said, gesturing to the men lining the two sides of the room, "my officers have been working very hard and they deserve some recreation."

  Thrackan smiled again, and, if anything, it was an even more unpleasant expression than it had been the last time. "Honor detail may stand at ease," Thrackan said, keeping his eyes squarely on Han.

  The thugs-in-uniform relaxed, shifted their feet, and smiled at each other with a certain nasty eagerness. "Captain Falco, instruct the keepers to send the ahther-prisoner-in."

  One of the greasier-looking officers saluted and said, "Yes, sir."

  He pulled a comlink out of his pocket and spoke into it. "Send it in Sergeant."

  There was a moment of pause, one that Han did not enjoy at all.

  Then, faintly at first, but gradually getting louder, Han could hear muffled footsteps coming from behind him, from beyond the door he had come through. Han turned to face the door, and backed away from it.

  Doing so put Thrackan directly behind him, but it seemed to Han that, all things considered, his cousin was dangerous no matter where he was.

  He was, at any rate, the danger Han knew. Best to concentrate on the danger he didn't know.

  The doors swung open and a pair of heavily armed Human League troopers came in, their blasters at the ready. They immediately took up positions on either side of the door, with their backs to the wall.

  Han had rated no such precautions. It would seem the Leaguers regarded the whatever-it-was as far more of a threat than Han.

  After a moment's pause, the "other prisoner" came in -and suddenly Han understood all the precautions.

  The "other prisoner" was a Selonian. Even thugs and fools knew to take Selonians very seriously indeed.

  And this Selonian was a big and tough-looking female, though that was no surprise. All the Selonians ever seen in public were big, tough, and female.

  Selonians tended to be a trifle taller and more slender than humans. They had somewhat longer bodies, and shorter arms and legs.

  Though normally bipedal, they could go on all fours when they wanted.

  Their hands and feet had retractable claws, good for climbing or digging-also very good in a fight. They were strong swimmers, with short, powerful tails that helped steer and propel them in the water, and served as a counterbalance while walking-and, not incidentally, as a fearsome club in a fight.

  Theory had it that Selonians had evolved from some sort of predatory swimming mammal that lived in riverside burrows, a species that moved from riverside burrowing to sophisticated tunneling far from wateL They had sleek, short fur, usually brown or black, and long pointed faces full of sharp teeth. They had bristly whiskers and equally bristly tempers if you didn't know how to handle them right.

  They lived in underground for the most part, and their social structure was unusual, to say the least.

  But, interesting though it was, Han was not worried about how the Selonian society was controlled by sterile females just at the moment.

  He was more interested in this particular sterile female's very, very sharp teeth.

  The big, lithe, graceful creature walked into the room calmly, casually, with such self-assurance she might have been the master of the place rather than a prisoner. Thvo more guards followed her into the chamber, but she paid no more mind to them than she had to the first pair.

  There was one other thing that Han could not help but notice-the Selonian had her hands free. That could only mean that the Selonian had given her parole, promised not to disobey or attempt to escape. It would otherwise be absolute madness to let her go free. But if she had given her parole, then the guards were not only superfluous, they were a deadly insult. It was definitely not advisable to question a Selonian's honor. Arrogance or ignorance might explain such a lapse, but nothing could forgive it.

  "Get down there, you," said one of the guards, pointing to the lower level of the chamber, where Han waited. They had shoved Han over the edge with his hands tied behind his back. The Selonian they allowed to use a small set of stairs set in the left rear corner of the chamber. She walked down the stairs with a calm grace, and came to stand in the center of the chamber.

  She turned toward Han and looked at him, her expression utterly neutral.

  "Say hello to Dracmus," Thrackan said. "Quite an impressive specimen, don't you think? She was trying to do us a little damage in Coronet when we picked her up."

  Han said nothing. Taunting Thrackan was one thing.

  He could know just how far to push things, know what the consequences might be. Not with a Selonian. Not with the way things were shaping up here.

  Thrackan laughed. "Not taking any chances, I see.

  Dracmus, say hello to the family pirate and traitor, my dear cousin Han Solo."

  "Belloma-la ecto niandaba-sa, despecto Han Solo!"

  said Dracmus. "Pada ectal ferbmz bellorna-cra." Her voice dripped with contempt, but the words did not match the tone. "Speak you this language of mine, Honorable Han Solo? None of these fools do."

  Han thought fast. He had no way of knowing what Dracmus intended.

  All he knew was that she was the enemy of his enemy-if even that much was true. She could be some hired stooge of Thrackan's, playing a part in some convoluted plan of his. Could this be a trap? But what point to a trap when he was already a prisoner? And suppose Dracmus was wrong,
and one of the Leaguers di" speak Selonian?

  But the universe never had given Han many sure answers, and it wasn't likely to start anytime soon.

  "Belona-sa mandaba-la kurso-kurso," Han snarled back, trying to make his voice as abusive sounding as Dracmus's had been. "Speak me it well enough." Han backed to the corner and risked a glance at Thrackan.

  His cousin was grinning from ear to ear. Clearly he had no doubt the two of them were trading insults.

  "KiLisa Sa koma lose zul embaga. Persa chana-sa promas els abta for dejed kuio," Dracmus growled the words, and snapped her jaws at him. "Good! I think they will force us Wright. Allow me to win quickly and you will avoid being well injured" Han had been afraid of that. It would be just like Thrackan to force two prisoners to fight, especially in a combat as unequal as this one would be.

  "I see there is great love between you," Thrackan said. "I think our Selonian friend has many pent-up feelings for her hosts. She cannot vent them on us, as nq.rMacSr.Aflnn

  she has given her parole, and must not break her oath. I must say that it is convenient to have an enemy of such strong principles. I think I shall reward her honorable behavior and let her take it all out on you."

  Han tugged at his bonds, but they held firm. "Nice fair fight, Thrackan," he said. "A Selonian against a human with his hands tied behind his back."

  Thrackan laughed. "I'm interested in entertainment, Han, not fairness." He indicated the four guards, who, by this time, had positioned themselves in the four corners of the chamber's upper level.

  "Shoot," he ordered.

  All four of them aimed their blasters at the center of the chamber's floor and fired simultaneously.

  The floor exploded in a gout of flame. Han flinched back from the blast, and felt stinging pains on his face and hands as he was peppered with micro-fragments of pulverized stresscrete.

  Han staggered back, half-blinded and halflt;Ieafened.

  "If you do not acquit yourself well, my troopers will fire again.

  At both of you. I would suggest you make the fight convincing."

  Han shook his head and blinked, trying to get over the effect of the blaster shots at close range. "How am I supposed to fight convincingly with my hands behind my back?" he asked.

  Thrackan laughed again. "You can't expect me to give you all the answers," he said. "Show a little initiative.

  Han's vision had cleared enough now for him to see Dracmus, and it was plain that the Selonian was more than prepared to give a good fight. She had her mouth open, putting her needle-sharp teeth on clear display.

  The only thing Han had going for him was surprise, and he decided to use it He shouted at the top of his lungs and charged straight for Dracmus, his head down.

  He got under her guard, if just barely, and managed to give her a good solid head butt to the gut. He hit her hard enough to knock down a human, but she managed to use her tail to steady herself against the floor and stay upright. She took a swipe at his head with her left handpaw. She didn't connect fully, but it was enough to send him sprawling.

  He slammed his left shoulder into the side of the raised platform and almost fell. He recovered and spun to his right just in time to dodge another open-handed slap at his head.

  And in that split second Han knew he could trust her, at least part of the way. He saw her claws retract in the split second before her hand-paw whipped past his face, and she had missed by less than the length of those claws.

  No claws. She could have raked them across his face twice by now.

  She was playing fair, or would be until it came down to killing Han or Thrackan's goons killing them both. He would have to lose fast, and convincingly.

  That ought to be easy. He could do it with both hands tied behind his back. At least he'd better be able to do so. He pulled at the bindings on his wrists, but it was clear that they weren't going to give.

  Han dodged another swing from the left, but ran straight into the sucker punch to his chest. The blow knocked him clean off his feet.

  He landed on the hard stresscrete floor, taking most of the fall across the top of his back, even though he managed to crush his hands and bounce the back of his head off the stresscrete.

  Dracmus was lunging for him before he could even begin to recover, and it was either Han's dumb luck or Dracmus's superb reflexes that sent her diving left as he rolled right.

  Han managed to roll to his feet one more time-and almost collapsed again. His ankle had somehow gotten twisted in that last fall. Just what he needed. A bad sprain. He swore under his breath and hobbled to the far side of the chamber as fast as he could. His right eye was beginning to swell, and he was pretty sure his nose was bleeding. If this was going easy on him, he'd hate to deal with Dracmus in a bad mood. But he was going to have to trust her.

  Either she was going to change her mind and kill him, or she wasn't.

  She swung around and came toward him in the stalking, wide-stepping gait of a wrestler, her arms spread wide, her tail slashing back and forth. The men on either side of the chamber were hooting and cheering and cursing. The air was getting thick, and the lights in the room seemed to have dimmed. Han shook his head again to try to clear it, and instantly regretted it as his dizziness got worse.

  He was not going to last much longer.

  Finish it. He would have to finish it quick, and go down fighting, satisfy Thrackan that he had gotten a good show. Han knew that Thrackan, at least the Thrackan of old, would only be satisfied if Han were knocked out by a blow from Dracmus. He'd feel cheated if Han simply passed out, collapsed in a heap, but that was going to happen if Han stayed in this thing much longer. And Han did not want Thrackan to be dissatisfied. Not when he had a blaster handy to vent his frustrations and Han available as a convenient target Han thought that Thrackan wanted him alive, but he wasn't sure enough to bet his life on it. Besides, a wellaimed blaster bolt could maim him and still leave him perfectly alive.

  Keep fighting. Han staggered to the right, circling around.

  Dracmus came no closer, but circled as well, watching for her chance.

  Han yanked once more at his wrist restraints, out of frustration as much as anything else, and was astonished to feel them snap.

  Either the restraints' locks had been damaged in the fall or, more likely, Thrackan had put him in gimmicked restraints to start with, something that could released by remote control at whatever moment seemed most amusing to the operator. It didn't matter. He had his hands.

  He spread his arms wide in a wrestler's stance and moved in on Dracmus.

  Dracmus was at least as surprised as Han to realize her opponent suddenly had his hands free. She back pedaled a bit, putting a bit more distance between Han and herself. She snarled, a sound full of anger and frustration, and Han felt sure she meant it. She wasn't acting.

  She might or might not want to kill Han, but she had every intention of beating him.

  Well, he was going to make her work for it. The advantages were all still with Dracmus, but maybe, now, he had a fighting chance. He feinted to the left, once, twice, and then to the right before diving straight in, grasping his hands together in a pile-driver punch to the gut, to knock the wind out of her. He remembered at the last possible moment to strike higher on her abdomen than he would on a human. He caught the right spot, but just barely. She staggered backward, and Han scrambled to regain his own balance and follow up. She had sagged down enough that Han could try for a punch in the snout, a delicate spot on the Selonian anatomy. He swung and connected cleanly-and then instantly wondered if doing so was such a good idea.

  From the expression on Dracmus's face, it clearly hurt a lot-but it also got her good and mad. Those sharp jaws swung around and snapped down on thin air a centimeter from Han's arm, and even before he had stopped dodging, an iron-hard fist hit him square in the chest.

  If it had hit him in the stomach, he would have doubled over in pain, but Dracmus had placed her blow too high. As it was, Han was thrown onto the
floor. He recovered and winced with pain as he got back to his feet. It seemed likely that either the blow or the landing had bruised or cracked a rib.

  Dracmus's tail was lashing back and forth, and she had her fangs bared-but she did not dive in to get her teeth around his throat, or rake her claws across his eyes.

  She was still restraining herself, at least somewhat.

  Han realized that he had to throw this fight immediately, before she lost all control of her anger and moved in for the kill. "Use your tail he bellowed to her in Selonian. "Batter me with that!"

  The mad, angry light in her eye seemed to dim for a moment, and she looked at him, as if she were surprised to see him there. Good.

  Maybe that meant the words were reaching her-though Han could not be altogether sure. She swung toward him and snapped her jaws at him again, and Han dodged back to his left. Even though he had urged her to make the move, he didn't even realize she was still swinging around, pivoting on one foot to bring her tail around. She had it raised high, and caught Han neatly in the head with it.

  Han staggered one last time, and lurched backward, slumping over until he was facing his cousin on his throne. Han's vision was going, going black, but he could see Thrackan grinning at him, laughing, that face that was so similar to his own contorted by a cruel, sadistic leer.

  Han was almost glad when the darkness closed over him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The Fabric Torn

  The Lady Luck cut her lightspeed engines and dropped into normal space in the Coruscant system. Lando Calrissian checked the navicomputer and nodded in satisfaction. "In the groove," he said.

  "We've got auto-clearance from Coruscant Control, all the way in."

  "Good," Luke said. "The sooner we're there, the better."

  "Shouldn't we try and contact the navy brass from here?" Lando asked.

  "We don't want to waste any time."

  Luke shook his head. "No," he said. "We're up against something big and organized. We have to assume that an organization that can seal off the entire Corellian star system is capable of monitoring communications, even on secure links. I think we should play it safe and not ,say anything until we can talk to our people face-to-face.