by Lou Anders
I was the first to come around.
Now, you might imagine the Wookiee would have had that position. After all, Chewbacca was bigger than the two of us combined. And he had all that fuzzy stuff to insulate him from the zappity-zap-zap.
But you will recall that I had tried to pull the shocker off of my shoulder just as Mahjo was thumbing it on. So I did not get quite the same dose as the others. And we Weequay are naturally thick-skinned to begin with.
So it was I who shook off the shock before the others. I tore the little round zappy device from my shoulder. It felt good to crunch it under my boot.
Oh, but my head still hurt! And my body—it ached everywhere, like I had been trampled by a herd of skalders. And then trampled again. But I had to get up. I rose to my knees, and that was when I saw that my companions were still out cold. In fact, I think Solo was making little snoring noises. Rrrronk-shshshsh-rrrronk-shshshshs.
I don’t think you can blame me for having an idea.
I mean, there we were, already at the boarding ramp. And the ramp was lowered. And they were asleep, dead to the world.
It would not be hard to do.
I could just roll them down to the ground—tumble, tumble, tumble. And when they awoke, they would not even know that it was me who had done this thing. Their ship would be gone, bye-bye, and Mahjo Reeloo, the woman who had attacked them, she would be the obvious culprit. No suspicion would fall on me, because they had seen me be zappity-zap-zapped, as well.
Of course, I would not get the Novian rubies. No.
But the Millennium Falcon would be mine.
And that, my friend, was a prize worth nearly as much as any Novian ruby. Possibly even more.
As my sweet mother used to say, when the galaxy hands you such an obvious gift, it would be rude not to take it.
So I grabbed Solo first, and I shoved him as gently as time allowed. And I winced only a little bit as I watched him tumbling down the ramp. Over and over he rolled—bumpity, bumpity, bumpity—and then he was off the ship. One more to go, and my ship it would be.
Oh, but Chewbacca was harder. The Wookiee weighed a ton. I could not send him tumbling down bumpity, bumpity. I could not even flop him over. So I ended up grabbing him by the feet and, putting my back into it, dragging him as best I could.
It was sl-o-o-o-o-w going. Let me tell you.
And my poor back hurt so much.
But it would be worth it, if I could just get him off the ship.
And then, before we had even made it halfway, he made a noise.
“Mmmmwwwww,” he said. It was the kind of noise you make in the morning when you don’t want to get up.
But oh, dear. The zappity-zappity was wearing off. You can imagine the trouble I would be in if Chewbacca came to as I was in the very process of stealing his ship and throwing him off it. You don’t have to be an expert on Wookiees to know that the results would not be pretty.
I had to do something.
“Go back to sleepy-sleepy,” I said. “You are a sleepy Chewie, a very sleepy Chewie.”
“Mmmmmm…rumppppp?” he said, and his eyelids began to flutter.
Oh, no, what could I do? I was desperate. How to get him to stay asleep? I had a thought. I began to sing softly, a lullaby. Like my sweet mother might have sung to me, if she had not been so busy teaching me to pick pockets.
“Hush, little Wookiee, don’t say a word.
“Hondo’s going to toss you off this bird.”
“Grrrrrrrrrr…ooooof?” said Chewbacca.
“And if this bird can fly away,
“This will be Hondo’s lucky day.”
Chewbacca’s eye popped open.
“Uh-oh,” I said. I began to pull faster. And sing faster.
“Hush, little Wookiee, don’t you cry.
“Hondo just wants to say bye-bye.”
A great furry hand reached out and caught the hydraulic lift of the ramp. I tugged his hairy legs as hard as I could, but his grasp was firm.
“And if you—grunt—wake—grunt—before I flee—”
Chewbacca’s eyes were fully open. They took in the situation. And then they lit up with angry fire.
“Please, please, little Wookiee…don’t…kill…me.”
And then I found myself dangling in the air. In mere seconds, Chewbacca had hoisted me aloft and was holding me up like I was nothing but a little rag doll. The grip on my throat tightened.
“You cannot blame a guy for trying,” I squeaked.
“Grrr…” Chewbacca’s growl was low and angry.
“Okay, apparently you can.”
“Grrrr, grrrr.” Chewbacca growled some more.
This really was the end then. I wondered which of my limbs he would tear off first.
“You know,” I said, resigned to my fate, “I used to be someone. I had a crew. The Ohnaka Gang. I had ships. A tank. I had a beautiful base on Florrum. I had the respect of my people, even when they were trying to betray me. I was Hondo Ohnaka, pirate scourge, and I had the will and the ability to take what I wanted from the galaxy. And what do I have now? I am alone. All alone. Without even a Kowakian monkey-lizard on my shoulder.” I sighed deeply. “It is a beautiful ship. I thought…I thought…with a ship like that. Well, a man could have a second chance. He could find the will to start again. He could go anywhere. Be anything.”
Chewbacca glared into my goggles.
“If you don’t mind,” I said. “I will close my eyes. Because I really don’t want to see this coming. The final, hopefully-not-too-painful moments of the once-great Hondo Ohnaka.”
I closed my eyes. And I hung in the air listening to the Wookiee’s angry breath.
But I did not die.
And then my feet touched the surface of the boarding ramp.
Cautiously, I opened my eyes. Carefully, I felt myself to make sure everything was still in place, my head to my neck, my neck to my body, my body to my limbs. Miraculously, they were all where they were supposed to be.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “I tried to steal your special ship.”
“Grrrragh, rowwwwr, mmmmm, ftttt.”
It was the same Wookiee proverb he had quoted earlier, the one about the tree that joins its roots with others underground. He was trying to tell me it was not the ship that was special. I stared at him in surprise, not sure what to say. Fortunately, I didn’t get the chance.
“Wh-what’s going on?” Behind us, Han Solo was stirring. He sat up and touched his head. “Oh, I don’t feel so good.” Then he slowly got to his feet. “What happened?”
I looked at the Wookiee. Chewbacca stared back at me. He waited to see what I would say.
“Mahjo Reeloo stunned us,” I said. “I woke first, and I was—” I hesitated. Still Chewbacca didn’t say anything. “I was trying to rouse you both so that we could go quickly in pursuit of that double-crossing scoundrel of a thief.”
It was a lie, of course. Solo studied me for a moment, and I wondered if he could see through me. Then he nodded.
“Well, then what are you two standing around for?” he said. “We owe her one. Let’s go pay her back with interest.”
With that, Solo went charging down the ramp into the Gwongdeen docks. I turned to Chewbacca, and I gave the Wookiee a grateful look, but he shouldered past me and followed Solo.
You know, I could have turned and run back into the ship right then. I could have slammed the boarding ramp closed and stolen their ship after all, right then and there. But of course, Chewbacca knew that. That was why he went first—and left me alone with the Falcon. And that, of course, is why I followed.
Well, I have never been one to dwell on the past. Not with a new, exciting world to explore. There was vengeance to be had. And still the promise of Novian rubies if we could catch up with Mahjo. Despite all that had occurred, the day was looking up.
We made our way to an exit corridor. It was wide, with a ribbed and rounded ceiling—like being in a giant throat. And right down the middle
of the corridor was a bright green line. It was maybe half a meter in width, with spots of various colors dotted every few meters. I wondered what their significance was.
Then, as we hurried down the corridor, I saw a being approaching.
It was large, nearly the size of a small speeder. It crawled on the ground with one long, slimy muscle-like foot, and on its back was an enormous shell, as big as a Jawa’s hut. From its head, a dozen eyes bobbed on the end of a cluster of tentacles. I approached the creature. It stopped directly in front of us.
“Greetings,” I said. “I am Hondo Ohnaka, and these ruffians—excuse me, these distinguished gentlemen—are my associates. I assume you are the Gwongdeen welcoming committee.”
The creature did not say anything, just continued to stare at me with its bundle of eyes.
“Yes, yes, of course, we are in a great hurry. So I applaud your decision to dispense with all pleasantries. Can you tell me, did a human woman about so tall pass this way only recently?”
Still there was no response from the creature. I wondered if its vocoder was malfunctioning or something.
“That’s our ship,” said Solo, pointing behind us with his thumb. “She would have been running from there. Fast. We need to catch her.”
Nothing. No response.
“Have we offended you in some way?” I asked. “It is difficult to know all of the local customs. But if you could just direct us to the fastest way to the Undervaults?”
“It’s waiting for you to get out of its way,” said a human male in a technician’s jumpsuit who was approaching us.
“What?” asked Solo.
“The snail,” the human said, pointing.
“Do you mean my welcoming committee?”
“Your what? Buddy, have you ever been on Gwongdeen before?”
“No, this is the first time I have had that pleasure.”
“Well, then let me introduce you to the local wildlife. This is a Gwongdeenian sub-subterranean gastropod. And they aren’t intelligent. At least, not as far as anybody has been able to determine.”
“But it came up to me. It slimed its way right over.”
“No, it didn’t.” The human tapped the ground with his toe, indicating the spotted green line I had noticed earlier. “See these tracks? The snails make them. And then they follow them. That’s all they do. All day, all night. You’re in its way, and it will stay there until you get out of its way.”
“So, these are not for disembarking visitors? They are not direction markings?”
“Not for anything that talks. Just for the snails.”
“Great,” said Solo as Chewbacca laughed. “We’re in a hurry and you’re wasting our time talking to a giant slug.”
“A snail, not a slug,” I told him. “Little details like that may matter.” Then I turned back to the technician. “So what are they for? What do you do with them?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “Ignore them. That’s what everyone else does.”
Feeling very foolish, I stepped aside. Immediately, the Gwongdeenian sub-subterranean gastropod began to move forward. I turned as it passed me and watched it make its slow way down the tunnel. I saw people swerving to avoid it, but other than that, the technician was correct. No one paid the creature much attention.
“Live and learn,” I said.
Solo stepped close to me and spoke softly into my ear.
“Live and learn,” he repeated. “You ever try to steal my ship again, you’ll only do one of the two.”
And then he smiled and pushed past me.
Well, wasn’t that interesting?
We continued on through the strange tunnels. I spotted several more of the sub-subterranean gastropods as we walked. They were everywhere, in fact, the colorful spotted ribbons of their snail tracks crisscrossing the entire underground settlement. Most folks gave them a wide berth, but I did see a group of Rodian children actually riding on the back of one of the creatures. They were laughing and squealing and slapping it on the shell. The gastropod did not seem to mind, as far as I could tell. In fact, it didn’t seem to notice them at all.
But soon we came to the entrance of the Undervaults: a great archway, with visitors approaching it.
As we watched, the archway shimmered briefly as each person passed through. But then we saw someone—a little Kitonak—suddenly bump into an invisible barrier. Instantly, security droids converged on the tubby guy, who began protesting that there was a mistake.
“It’s some kind of energy shield,” said Solo.
“How good of you to state the obvious,” I replied. “The key code again?”
“I’d bet on it,” he said.
So without the key, our journey was to end there.
Suddenly, Solo yelled.
“There she is!” He took off at a run.
Chewbacca and I looked, and we saw her, too.
That traitor Mahjo Reeloo.
Unfortunately, Solo’s sudden movement caught her eye.
She gave us a frightened look, and then she hurried forward, rudely pushing past a group of Togorians.
Solo was almost on her.
And then she passed through the portal.
Solo, unfortunately, did not.
Whump! He slammed into the energy shield barrier.
“Come back here!” he yelled. Then he noticed the Togorians staring at him.
“What’s a matter,” he said. “You never seen a guy run into an invisible wall before?”
I stopped beside Solo, testing the air gingerly with a finger. It felt as hard and as smooth as a stone to me. I recalled how Mahjo had leapt after Solo and Chewbacca when they fell between the turlossus. Then it had been she who had made me ashamed. And yet the same woman would abandon us now.
“Mahjo,” I called. “While I of course applaud your greed, there are riches enough for all of us. Please, come back for Hondo.”
She turned then, briefly, and gave me a look—almost of pity.
“I have a lot to make up for already,” she said. “Another misdeed won’t change anything.”
And then she turned and walked away from me.
And there we were, just a few paces apart.
But she might as well have been a whole galaxy away.
“WWWWWWWGGGGHHHRRRRW,” yelled Chewbacca. The Togorians scattered at that. So did quite a few other people.
“Well, I don’t want to give up, either, big guy,” replied Solo. “But we can’t follow her without a key code. So unless you have one in that hairy coat of yours, I don’t know what we can do.”
It was true. Things were looking desperate. But that is when Hondo Ohnaka does his best thinking. We just needed a new perspective.
I looked around. And then I looked up. And then I looked down. And there I saw the answer to our dilemma.
“My friends.” I smiled. “Do not worry. I have an idea.”
“Will I like this idea?” Solo asked.
“That depends very much on how you feel about getting…slimy.”
“This is the worst plan I’ve ever heard.”
Han Solo was waggling his finger in my face again.
I turned away from him, to where a large Gwongdeenian sub-subterranean gastropod was patiently waiting for us to move out of its way.
“If you will excuse us,” I said to the snail, “we will be with you in a moment.” Then I turned back to Solo and his waggly finger.
“My friend, do I detect a certain loss of enthusiasm for this endeavor?”
“To lose something,” he replied, “means I’d have to have it to begin with.”
“Hrrr hrrr hrrr,” laughed Chewbacca.
“Yes, yes, very funny,” I said. “Now, I do not think you understand the full brilliance of my idea. I will explain it again. It is very simple.”
We had walked a little ways from the entrance to the Undervaults so we would not be lingering and arousing suspicion. The three of us were standing in a nearby corridor away from the main flow of traffic. But like ev
ery corridor on Gwongdeen, the ever-present snails were making their steady way, doing whatever it was they did.
I pointed down to the ground, and I tap-tapped my foot right on a snail trail, with its many-colored dots. This one had a nice fuchsia color in the pattern. But that is immaterial. What was important was where it was headed.
“This line,” I said, “it runs right through the force barrier. Straight through it. And continues on the other side. Now you don’t expect the gastropods to carry key codes, do you?”
“No,” grumbled Solo.
“What’s that?” I said. “I can’t hear you.”
“I’m not an idiot,” he replied. “Of course the slugs don’t have key codes.”
“Snails, not slugs,” I corrected.
“Grrrrgrrrrooof,” said Chewbacca.
“Exactly,” I agreed. “But snails or slugs, it would be ridiculous. And yet they come and go, making their snail-y way in and out. Therefore, we can conclude that they are unaffected by the barrier.”
“We hope.”
“And no one pays them any attention,” I continued. “Everyone just moves out of their way. The locals and regular visitors to Gwongdeen don’t even seem to notice them. Am I right?”
Solo’s mouth set in a tight frown.
“Am I right?”
Reluctantly, he nodded.
“Very well,” I said. “Then here is our solution. Into the snail we all go.”
“Roooarrgh ur roo,” said Chewbacca.
“It is okay, my furry friend,” I said. “The shell is quite large, and the gastropod has no bones. You won’t hurt it at all.”
“I don’t think it was the snail he was worried about,” said Solo. And then he added, “I know it’s not what I’m worried about.”
I placed my hand on the slimy body of the snail and pushed a bit of its blubbery skin aside, exposing a gap under the shell.
“After you,” I politely said to Solo.
He bent over. Then he straightened up again, fixing me with another of his hard looks.
“Just so you know,” he said, “I have no confidence we can pull this off.”
“Well, it’s like I always say,” I replied with a smile, “no confidence is better than none.”
Solo’s eyes screwed up at that.