"Ann Crispin "Han Solo. Rebel Dawn"" - читать интересную книгу автораMallatobuck roared again, then launched into an an-gry tirade. Humans! How could they be so ignorant of Woollee customs and Woollee honor? How dare Hah imply that Chewbacca would abandon a life debt? There was no greater insult he could offer a Woollee! Her husband was possessed of great honor! He was a courageous warrior, a skilled hunter, and when he gave his word, he kept it! Especially about a life debt!
Faced with Malla's ire, Hah turned both hands up and shrugged, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. He looked up imploringly at his friend. Chewie, taking pity on his Corellian buddy, intervened. He stepped be-tween Malla and Hah, and spoke quickly, telling her that of course Han had meant no insult, no offense. His comment had been made out of ignorance, not malice. Finally, Malla relaxed, and her roars turned to grum-bles. Hah gave her an apologetic smile. "Hey, no of-fense, Malla. I know Chewie here better'n almost anyone, and I know he's a terrific guy, brave, smart, all that stuff. I just didn't know that to a Wookiee, a life debt outweighs everything else." He turned back to his friend. "So, okay, you're comin' with us, and we're gettin' ready to grab some space, pal. So say goodbye to your bride." Chewbacca and Mallatobuck walked away together, while Hah and Jarik conducted the prefiight checks. A few minutes later, Hah heard the clang of the Falcon% ramp closing. Moments later, Chewbacca slipped into the copilot's seat. Han looked at him, "Don't worry, pal, I swear to you we'll come back again . . . soon. I did some good dealing with Katarra and her underground. Your people are going to need lots of ammo before they can even hope to take on the Imps and free your world. And I'm gonna help ‘era get it." Jarik's voice came over the intercom from the star-board gunner% turret. "Yeah, at a tidy profit, of course." Hah laughed. "Yeah... of course! Chewie... stand by! Here...we... go!" With great dignity, the Millennium Falcon rose up-ward on her repulsors, then drifted forward until she was out of the tree-branch "cave." Then, with a sudden-ness that sent everyone sinking back into their seats, Han sent his ship whooshing straight up, through the tunnel of trees. They soared up into the skies, now flushed with the red-gold dawn. As the Falcon went higher, sunrise seemed to burst over the world in a shower of gold. Quarrr-teUerrra; Hah thought. The sun-haired war-flor, the woman he had known as Bria .... What was she doing now? he wondered. Does she ever think about me? Moments later, Kashyyyk was only a rapidly dwin-dling green ball behind them, as they tore through the star-flecked blackness .... Boba Fett sat in a sleazy rented fiat on the Outer Rim world of Teth, listening to Bria Tharen meeting with the Tethan Rebel leaders. The most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many resources, in-cluding a spy network that most planets would have en-vied. Since he accepted Imperial assignments from time to time, he was often privy to communiqu6s and other information most Rebel Commands would have loved to see. Even though she was a Rebel officer, the bounty on Bria Tharen had not been posted by the Empire. No, this was a far larger bounty, the sum of fifty thousand credits for a live, unharmed capture, no disintegrations permitted. Aruk the Hutt, the old leader of Besadii clan, had originally posted the bounty, but his heir, Durga, had continued it after his death, and had prom-ised a bonus for delivery within three months. Boba Fett had been searching on and off for Bria Tharen for over a year now. The woman kept being sent out on "deep cover" assignments that made her ex-tremely hard to trace. She had severed all ties with her family, probably to lessen the danger to them should she be captured by the Imperials. When she was on her home planet of CoreIlia, she lived inside a series of se-cret Rebel command bases, with extensive security and guard mounts. Such high security was understandable . . . after all, the Rebels lived in fear of a full-scale attack by imperial stormtroopers. So they kept the locations of their bases top-secret, and moved them continually. One bounty hunter-no matter how deadly and effective-stood little chance of getting close enough to manage a live capture. If only Besadii would have been satisfied with having Bria dead, Boba Fett was fairly sure he could have managed to kill her, even within the protection of a Rebel base. But live, unharmed capture was much more difficult .... However, a few days ago, Boba Fett had learned through his spy network that there was a meeting scheduled for the underground Rebel movement on Teth. Taking a calculated risk that Bria would be there, he had flown Slave I to Teth two days ago. The risk had paid off; she had shown up yesterday evening. Two days ago, when he'd first arrived on Teth, Boba Fett had located the current Rebel enclave, which was situated beneath the port city in a series of old storm drains and sub-basements. He'd infiltrated the outskirts of the base, via the ancient storm drains and ventilation shafts, enough to locate the base janitorial supplies. There he'd placed minuscule audio pickups on a num-ber of small robot floor cleaners that roved freely from room to room, sucking up anything their tiny scanners identified as "dirt." Since that time, he'd been monitoring the pickups, and today his preparations had paid off. Bria Tharen was in a meeting with two top-ranked Tethan Rebels. The tiny floor-cleaner, per its programmed instructions, had scuttled out of their way when they'd entered the room, and was now biding its time in an inconspicuous corner. Boba Fett had no use for the whole concept of the various rebellions. He considered the idea of rebellion against any established government criminal. The Em-pire maintained order, and Boba Fett valued order. The Tethan resistance was no exception... a bunch of mis-guided idealists who were out to create anarchy.... Within the confines of his helmet, Boba Fett's eyes narrowed with disdain as he listened. The Tethan lead-ers were Commander Winfrid Dagore and her aide, Lieutenant Palob Godalhi. At the moment the Tharen woman was arguing with them about the necessity for the various resistance groups to unite into a Rebel Al-liance. There were indications, she said, that the idea of an Alliance was gaining support in high places. A prestigious Imperial Senator, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, had recently met secretly with Bria's superi-ors in the Corellian Rebel underground, and talked. The senator agreed that in the wake of the Empire's massacres on planets such as Ghorman, Devaron, Rampa i and 2, that the Emperor was either pathologi-cally insane or totally evil, and must be overthrown by sentients of good conscience. The Tharen woman spoke with misguided passion, her clear alto voice quivering slightly with controlled emotion. It was obvious she really cared about her cause. When she was finished, Winfrid Dagore cleared her throat. Her voice was rough with age and strain. "Com-mander Tharen, we sympathize with our brothers and sisters on CoreIlia, Alderaan and the other worlds. But here on the Outer Rim, we are so far away from the Core Worlds that we could be of little help to you, even if we did ally with your groups. We do things our way out here. The Emperor pays little attention to us. We raid the Imperial shipping, and oppose the Empire in many ways-but we value our independence. We are not likely to join a larger group." "Commander Dagore, that isolationist policy is an in-vitation to an Imperial massacre," Tharen said, her tone bleak. "Mark my words, it will happen. Palpatine's forces will not overlook your groups forever." "Perhaps , . . or perhaps not. Still, I doubt that we could do more than what we are currently doing, Com-mander Thareu." "Commander Tharen, weapons cost credits," Lieu-tenant Godalhi said. "Where will those credits come from?" "Well, we'd certainly appreciate it if you Tethans man-aged to come up with a few million to help us out," Bria said dryly, and a sad chuckle ran around the room. "But we're working on it. Financing the resistance is very hard, but there are enough citizens who are being squeezed until they can't see straight that, even if they don't have the ability or the courage to join a Rebel group outright, they're smuggling us spare credits. Some of the Hutt lords have ‘also seen fit to contribute... elan-destinely, of course." Interesting .... thought Fett. This was news to him, though, now that he thought about it, Hutts were noto-rious for playing both sides plus their own side in any conflict. If they could look forward to an increase in credits or power, Hutts were usually right there .... "We are not far from Hutt space," Dagore said, a thoughtful note in her voice. "Perhaps we could make contacts with other Hutt lords... see if they'd be will-ing to help." "Help?" Bria Tharen% voice sputtered with laughter. "Hutts? They may contribute, and some have, but they do it for their own reasons, trust me, and those reasons have nothing to do with our aims. Hurts are devious... but sometimes their go'ds and ours coincide. That's when they hand out their credits. Half the time we can't even guess what benefit they may be getting as a result of their ‘donation.'" "Probably better not to guess," Lieutenant Godalhi said. "Still, Commander Tharen, there may be some merit in our increasing our commitment at this time. Our new Imperial Moff is far less... vigilant than Sam Shild was. We have been getting away with far more lately than we could under Shild's rule." "That's another thing," Bria Tharen said. "We've been studying this new Moff, Yref Orgege. Most of the new procedures he's put in place here in the Outer Rim are so ill-advised that we're beginning to wonder if he has Gamorrean blood." Laughter rippled throughout the room. Bria continued, "Orgege is both arrogant and stupid. He's insisting that he won't make Shild's mistake, and he's going to keep close personal control over his mili-tary force. This policy has cut down tremendously on the Imperial threat here in the Outer Rim. The Imp Commanders have to check with Orgege about the smallest things. He is managing them into paralysis, Commander Dagore." "We're aware of that, Commander," Dagore agreed. "What do you want us to do about it?" "Increase your raids on Imperial supply vessels and munitions dumps here in the Outer Rim, Commander. We need those weapons. And by the time Orgege can be contacted and give his orders, you and your people will be long gone." Dagore considered for a moment. "I think we can promise you that much, Commander Tharen. For the rest... we'll take it under advisement." "Talk to your people today," Bria said. "I'll be leaving tomorrow." Boba Fett strained his ears, silently urging her to re-veal her plans. But there was no other sound except the scrapings of chairs as the Rebels got up and left the room. Fett kept a close survey on all the nearby spaceports, but he was unable to catch even a glimpse of Bria Tharen the next day. She must have been smuggled aboard a Rebel ship by some clandestine means. The bounty hunter was slightly disappointed at his failure, but the most important trait of any hunter-and Boba Fett lived for the hunt-was patience. He re-solved to find some way of tipping off the Imperials about Mon Mothma's treachery, and the Rebels' plans, without letting them know who their informant was. Many Imperial officers were openly scornful of bounty hunters, referring to them as "scum"-and worse. Fett wished he had more specific information to offer as a tip. If only the Rebels had revealed plans for an actual operation! In the meantime, Fett's trip to Teth would not be wasted. He'd checked with the Guild, and there was an open bounty here on their books, a rich, reclusive businessman who had a high-guarded and "secure" es-tate in the mountains of Teth. "Secure" that is, insofar as ordinary bounty hunters went, but Boba Fett was in a class by himself. The businessmank activities had been so predictable that planning was laughably easy. The man was a creature of habit. Boba Fett wouldn't even have to go up against his bodyguards, since this was a bounty permitting disinte-grations. Only the kill was required. Boba Fett had found a vantage point in a laakwal tree that would ‘allow him to erect a temporary blind, make the kill, then slip away before the bodyguards or security forces could even pinpoint his location. One shot would be all that he needed ...." Over the next five months, Han Solo and his Wookiee First Mate rose to the top of the smuggler heap. For a miracle, Han managed to actually hang on to some of the money he'd won long enough to do most of the modifications on the Millennium Falcon that he'd envisioned. His half-alien master technician and starship me-chanic, Shug Ninx, let him berth the Falcon in his Spacebarn. Shug's Spacebarn was almost a legend in the Corellian section of Nar Shaddaa. Within its cavernous interior, traders, pirates and smugglers tinkered with their ships, modifying them, determined to squeeze the last bit of speed and firepower out of them. After all, the faster a smuggler delivered a cargo, the quicker he, she or it could take off again with another shipment. Time was credits, in the life of a smuggler. Han, Jarik and Chewbacca did most of the work themselves, with an occasional hand from Salla, who was ‘also an expert technician, and Shug, the acknowl-edged master. Once he had the ship's armor-plating the way he wanted it-no lucky Imperial shot was going to take out the Falcon the way Han's previous ship, the Bria, had been destroyed!--he started on the engines and the ar-mament. He added a light laser cannon under the nose, then moved the quad lasers so the Falcon had gun tur-rets both dorsally and ventrally-top and bottom. Then Han and Salla installed two concussion missile launch-ing tubes between the forward mandibles. |
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