by Brian Daley
Atuarre moved to the gameboard. I11 help you with Rekkon.
Keep your hands off him, Tonn shouted. It was either you or that cub who killed him, maybe both. The big redheads fists were bailed. Both Atuarre and Pakka were showing their fangs.
Hart cut them off with a wave of the blaster. Ev-erybody relax. lll take care of Rekkon; Bollux can help. The three of you move down to that cargo hold off the main passageway. He stifled their objections with a motion of the guns muzzle. First Torm, then the two Trianii, began to move.
Han stood to one side as they filed into the empty hold. If anybody sticks his face out of here without my say-so, Ill figure hes out to get me, and Ill fry him. And if anybodys hurt in here, Ill space whoever is left, no questions asked. He closed the hatch and left them.
In the forward compartment, Bollux waited si-lently, with Blue Max on a console nearby. Han re-garded the corpse. Well, Rekkon, you did your best, but it didnt get you far, did it? And you dumped it into my lap. Now my partners captured and your murderers onboard with me. You werent a bad old man, but I somehow wish Id never heard of you.
Han picked up one heavy arm, dragging at the corpse. Bollux, you get ready to take the other side; he was no lightweight.
Then he noticed the scrawl. Han pushed Rekkons body back clumsily and bent to examine a styluss scribble on the gameboard that the dead mans arm had hidden. The writing was difficult to read, dashed off in a pained, distorted hand, hastily and weakly. Han turned his head this way and that, puzzling the message out aloud Stars End, Mytus VII. He knelt and quickly found Rekkons bloodstained stylus on the floor by the gameboard base. With his last strength, after hed been left for dead, Rekkon had managed to leave word of what the computer plaque had told him. Dying, he hadnt abandoned his cam-paign.
Foolish, Han told himseN. Who was he trying to tell?
You, Captain Solo, Bollux answered automati-cally. Han turned on him in surprise. What?
Rekkon left the message for you, sir. The wound indicates that he was shot from behind, and therefore quite probably never saw his assailant. The only living entity he could trust would be you, Captain, and it would be logical to assume you would be present when his body was moved. He made sure in this man-ner that the information would reach you.
Hah stared down at the body for a long moment. All fight, you stubborn old man; you win. He reached over, smearing and eradicating the words with his hand. Bollux, you never saw this, under-stand? Play dumb.
Shall I erase that portion of my memory, sir? Hans answer was slow, as if he was catching the habit from the droid. No. You may be the one wholl have to pass it along if I dont hack it. Make sure Blue Max keeps zipped, too.
Yes, Captain. Bollux moved to take Rekkons other arm as Han prepared to hoist again. His joints creaked, and his servos whined. This was a great man, was he not, Captain?
Han strained under the corpses weight. What dyou mean?
Just, sir, that he had a function, a purpose he cared about above and beyond his life. Doesnt that indicate a greatness to the purpose?
Youll have to read the obituaries, Bollux; all I can tell you is, hes dead. And were going to have to eject him through the emergency lock; we might get boarded yet, and we cant have him around.
Without further conversation, the two dragged at Rekkon, who had reached out from beyond death and given Hah the answers he needed.
Hah opened the hatch. Atuarre, Pakka, and Torm looked up in unison. Theyd taken seats on the bare deck, the man at the opposite side of the empty hold from the two Trianii.
We had to ditch Rekkon, Han told them. Atuarre, I want you and Pakka to go square away the forward compartment. You can throw some eats into the warming unit, too. Torm, come with me; ! need a hand repairing the damage we did on liftoff.
Atuarre objected. I am a Trianii Ranger, and a rated pilot, not a drudge. Besides, Solo-Captain, that man is a traitor.
Save it, Hah cut her off. Ive locked up all the other weapons in the ship, including Chewies other bowcaster. Im the only one armed, and things stay that way until I figure out what to do with you all.
She gave him a sullen look, telling him, Solo-Captain, youre a fool. She left, with Pakka trailing behind.
Torre rose, but Han stopped him with an arm across the hatchway. The redhead retreated back into the hold and waited. Youre the only one I can trust, Han told him. Bollux isnt really much good, and I just figured out who killed Rekkon. Which of them did it?
The cub, Pakka. He was in Authority custody, and they messed with him. Thats why he doesnt talk. I think they brain-set him, then let Atuarre recover him. Rekkon wouldnt have let any of you others near.
Torm nodded grimly. Han produced the mans pis-tol from the back of his gunbelt and handed it to him. Its charge indicator read full. Keep this on you. Im not sure Atuarres figured it out yet, but Im willing to play them along and find out if either of them know anything thatll help.
Torre stashed the gun in his coverall pocket. What will we do next?
Rekkon left a message as he was dying, scrawled it on the gameboard. The Authoritys keeping its spe-cial prisoners at something called Stars End, on Mytus VI. After weve checked the ship over, well gather in the forward compartment and run down everything weve got in files and computers on it. Maybe Pakka or Atuarre will let something slip then.
When the light damage suffered by the Millennium Falcon in her breakout from Orton III had been re-paired insofar as was possible, the ships complement gathered in the forward compartment. Hah had brought four portable readouts. He gave one to each of the others and took one himself. Bollux watched, seated to one side, with Max back in his usual place, gazing out from the droids chest.
I patched these readouts into the ships computers, Han explained. Each of theres keyed to one kind of information. Ill pull navigational, Atuarres got plan-etological; Pakka can retrieve the Authoritys unclas-sifted stuff, and Torms got operational files from the outlaw-techs. Okay, punch up Stars End and lets get at it.
Each of the other three complied. Torms screen, except for the retrieval request, remained blank. Atuarres too. She looked up, as they all did, to see Han scan his own readout.
Your portables arent hooked up to anything, he told them, only mine. Atuarre, show Torre your screen.
Dubious, she still did as he asked, turning her read-out so that the redhead could see it. On her screen was the shnple retrieval request, MYTUS VIII. Yours too, Pakka, Hah bade the cub. That readout showed MYTUS V.
Catch his face, Han told the others, meaning Torre, who had become pallid. You know what youve done, dont you, Torre? Show everybody your readout. It says MYTUS VII, but I told you that Stars End was on MYTUS VI, just as I told the others the wrong planet. But you already knew the right one, because you read it over Rekkons shoulder before you killed him, right? His voice lost its false light-ness. I said right, traitor?
Torre jumped to his feet with impressive speed, gun drawn. Atuarre pulled her out too, and pointed it at him. But neither Torms shot at Hah nor Atuarres at him worked.
Two malfunctions? Hah inquired innocently, un-limbering the blaster at his side. I betcha mine works, Term.
Term heaved his pistol wildly. Hah reacted with a star pilots reflexes, slapping the gun out of midair with his left hand. But Term had already whirled and seized the surprised Atuarre in a savage infighting hold, prepared to break her neck with a slight twist. When she started to resist, he forced her neck to the brink of fracture, making her subside.
Put down the blaster, Solo, he grated, and get
your hands on the gameboard, or Ill-
He was interrupted as Pakka, in a spectacular leap, landed on Torms shoulders, sinking fangs into his neck, clawing at his eyes, wrapping a supple taft around the traitors throat. Term was forced to release his hold to keep from being blinded. Atuarre sought to turn and fight, and even Bollux had risen in the moment of crisis, unsure of just what to do.
Term gave Atuarre a vicious kick. His superior weight and strength sent h
er sprawling, blocking Han, who had been moving for a clear shot. As Han skirted Atuarre, Term tore Pakka from his shoulders and threw the cub aside just as Bollux blundered into the pilots path. Pakka bounced off one of the pads of safety cushioning lining the compartment hatch, as Torm dashed into the passageway.
Dodging, moving as quickly as he could, Torre raced past the cockpit, main ladderwell, and ramp hatch; none of them held any promise of even tempo-rary safety. He heard Hans bootsteps close behind and ducked into the first compartment he came to, damning himself for not having taken tune to learn the ships layout. He hit the hatch-close button as he came through. The compartment was empty, offering no tools, nothing he might use as a weapon. Hed been hoping this was the escape-pod chamber, but fortune had passed him by. At least, he thought, he had a mo-ments respite. He might be able to buy time, perhaps even wrest Solos blaster from him. His thoughts were moving so quickly that he didnt realize, for a moment, where he was. But when he did, he threw himself back at the hatch through which hed come, tearing at the controls, screaming obscenities.
Dont waste your time, came Hans voice over the intercom. Nice of you to choose the emergency lock, Torre. Its where you wouldve ended up any-way.
Han stood looking through the viewport set in the locks inner hatch. Hed overridden the locks controls to make sure Torm couldnt get back in. All the Fal-cons access systems had inboard overrides, to make life complicated for anyone interested in forced entry, a wise smugglers option.
Torm tried to wet his lips with a very dry tongue.
Solo, stop and think a minute.
Save your breath, Torre. Youre gonna need it all; youre going swimming. There were, of comse, no spacesuits stored in the lock. Torms eyes opened wide with fear.
Solo, no! I never had anything against you; I never would have come, except that bastard Rekkon and the Trianii never took their eyes off me. If Id cut, they would have shot me. You can understand that, cant you? I had to look out for number one, Solo? So you shot Rekkon, Han told him in a soft voice, no questioning to it.
I had to! If hed passed on word about Stars End, it wouldve been my neck! You dont know these Au-thority people, Solo; they dont accept failure. It was Rekkon or me.
Atuarre came up behind Han, and Pakka and Bol-lux after her. The cub climbed up the droids shoul-ders for a better view. But, Tom, Atuarre said, Rekkon found you, recruited you. Your father and brother really have disappeared.
Without facing away from the viewport, Han added, Im sure they did. Your father and older brother, right, Torre? Lets see, now, that wouldnt by any chance make you heir to the Kail Ranges, would it?
The traitors face was waxen. Yes, if I did as the Authority asked. Solo, dont play righteous with reel You said youre a businessman, didnt you? I can get all the money you want! You want your friend back?
The Wooldee is on his way to Stars End by now; the
only way youll ever see him again is by bargaining
with me. The Authoritys got no grudge against you;
you can name your priceI
Torre reasserted control over himself, going on more calmly. These people keep their word, Solo. They dont even know your names yet, any of you; I was operating under deep cover, saving the informa-tion I developed so I could up the price. Strike a deal. The Authoritys just good business people, like you and me. You can have the Wooldee back and go free with enough money to buy a new ship.
He got no answer. Hans gaze had gone to his own reflection in the metal of the emergency locks control panel. Torm pounded his fists on the inner hatch, a dull thudding.
Solo, tell me what you want; Ill get it for you, I swearl Youre a guy who looks out for number one, arent you? Isnt that what you are, Solo?
Hah stared at his own lean reflection. In another man, hed have said those eyes were too used to con-cealing everything but cynicism. His thoughts echoed Torm Is that what I am? He looked back to Torms face, straining against the viewport.
Ask Rekkon, Hah answered, and hit the lock release.
The outer hatch snapped open. With an explosion of air into vacuum, Torm was hurled out into the chaotic pseudoreality of hyperspace. Once outside the Millennium Falcons mantle of energy, the units of matter and patterns of force that had been Torm ceased to have any coherent meaning.
SOLO-CAPTAIN, Atuarre interrupted his thoughts, leaning into the cockpit, isnt it time we spoke9. Weve been here for nearly ten Standard Time-Parts, and our course of action is no clearer than when we arrived. We must reach some decision, dont you agree?
Han broke off gazing out the canopy at the distant speck, barely visible, of Mytus VII. All around the Millennium Falcon rose the peaks and hills of the tiny asteroid on which she was concealed. Atuarre, I dont know how Trianii feel about waiting, but me, I hate it worse than anything. But theres nothing else we can do; we have to sit tight and play out our hand.
She wouldnt accept that. There are other courses of action, Captain. We could attempt to contact Jessa again. Her slit-irises dwelled on him.
Han shifted around in the pilot seat to face her di-rectly, so quickly that she drew back reflexively. See-ing this, he reined in his temper. We could waste all kinds of time looking for lessa. When her operation ran, after we got hit by the IRDs, she probably dug a hole and pulled it in after her. The Falcon can cook along at point-five factors over Big L, but we still might waste a month looking for the outlaw-techs and not find them. Maybe word will find its way to Jessa, or one of the prearranged blind transmissions, but we cant bank on her. I dont count on anybody but me; if I have to bust Chewie out of there alone, Ill do it.
Some of the tension left her. You arent alone, Solo-Captain. My mate is there at Stars End, too. Your fight is Atuarres. She extended a slim, sharp-clawed hand. But come, now, take some food. Star-ing at Mytus VII cannot help and may be distracting us from solutions.
He pushed himself up out of the seat, taking one more look at the distant planet. Mytus VII was a worthless rock, as worlds went, revolving around a small, unexceptional sun at the end of the wisp of stars that was the Corporate Sector. Stars End, in-deed. Thered be scant danger of anyones happening on the Authoritys secret prison facility here, unless he came looking for it specifically.
Since Mytus VII had been listed in the charts as being at the outermost edge of its solar system, Hah had broken into normal space nearly ten Standard Time-Parts before, deep in interstellar space, far out of sensor range. Hed come in from the opposite side of the system, entering a thick asteroid belt halfway between Mytus VII and its sun, and hunted up what hed wanted, this jagged hunk of stone. Using his starships engines and tractors, hed brought the aster-oid onto a new course, one that would allow him to take a long-range peek at Stars End, sure that no one there would notice the slightly unusual behavior of one tiny mote in the uncharted asteroid belt.
Hed spent most of his time monitoring the planets communications, studying it by sensors, and watch-ing the occasional ship come and go. Monitored commo traffic had told him nothing; most of it had been encrypted in codes that had resisted his compu-ters analyses. Plaintext messages had been either mundane or meaningless, and Hah suspected that at least some of them had been sent strictly for appear-ances sake, to make Stars End look like an ordinary, if remote, Authority installation.
Now he trailed Atuarre into the forward compart-ment. Bollux was seated near the gameboard, his plastron open. Pakka was stalking a jetting remote back and forth. The remote, a small globe powered by magnetic fields and repulsor power, turned, dove, climbed, and dodged unpredictably. The cub hunted it with tail twitching and quivering, obviously enjoying the game. The remote eluded him time and again, demonstrating more than its usual maneuverability.
As Hah watched, Pakka nearly caught the globe, but it evaded his pounce at the last second. Hah looked to the droid. Bollux, are you directing that remote?
The red photoreceptors trained on him. No, Cap-tain. Max is sending information pulses to it. Hes much better at anticipatio
n and dictating random factors than I, sir. Random factors are extremely dif-ficult concepts.
Hah watched the cub make a final, long spring and catch the remote in midair, pulling it to the deck and rolling over and over with it in sheer delight. Then the pilot sat at the gameboard, which often doubled as a table, and accepted a mug of concentrate broth from Atuarre. They had used up fresh supplies several Time-Parts before and were now sustaining them-selves on the Falcons ample, if bland, emergency ra-tions.
There have been no new developments, Captain? Bollux asked. Han presumed the droid already knew the answer and had asked only out of a sort of pro-grammed conversational courtesy. Bollux had turned out to be an entertaining shipmate who could spin hours of tales and accounts of his long years work and the many worlds hed seen. He also had a reper-toire of jokes programmed into him by a former owner, and an absolutely deadpan delivery. Zero, BoUux. Absolutely zilch.
May I suggest, sir, that you assemble all available information in sum, recapping it? Among sentient life forms, new ideas sometunes emerge that way, I have noticed.
I bet. After all, arent most decrepit labor droids
armchair philosophers? Hah put his mug down, rub-
bing his jaw thoughtfully. Anyway, there isnt much
to tote up. Were on our own---
Are you sure theres no other resource? Max chirped.
Dont start that again, lowpockets, Han warned.
Where was I? Weve found the place we want, Mytus
VII, and-
How high is the order of probability? Max wanted to know.
Up an afterburner with the order of probability, Hah snapped. If Rekkon said its here, its here. The installation has a pretty big power plant, almost for-tress class. And quit interrupting, or Ill take a drill to you.
Lets see. We cant hang around forever, either; supplies are running low. What else? He scratched his forehead where the synth-flesh patch had flaked away, leaving new, unscarred skin.
This is a strictly off-limits solar system, Atuarre contributed.