Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare (26 page)

“I send you back to that worm-ridden parasitical infestation who calls himself Zavval,” Jiliac raged, tail lashing, as he moved back and forth. “Tell him he has maligned me and my kin, Jabba. Tell him this lack-witted attempt to incite me into a precipitous attack has failed utterly. I will bide my time. He is a dead Hutt, but for the moment, by my grace, he may pretend to be among the living. I alone will decide when he is to die—and it will be at my convenience. Do you understand, messengers?”

“Yes, Almighty One!” Han said, having recovered his voice. It was obvious that Jiliac was letting them go, and he wanted nothing more than to get off this world. He bowed, then bowed again. “I’ll tell him
exactly
what you said!”

“Good! You may go. Take my message to Zavval—immediately!”

Bowing, Han and Nebl backed from the audience room.
Once outside, they hastily leaped into their transport and ordered the droid driver to return them to the spaceport immediately.

Han had never been so glad to see the
Ylesian Dream
waiting for him. He and Jalus Nebl ran across the landing field, scrambled up the ramp, and threw themselves into the control cabin.

Only when they were out in space, and Han was pulling the lever to send them streaking into hyperspace, did enough of his sense of humor return that he was able to grin feebly at the Sullustan. “Well, Nebl,” he said, “that went well, didn’t it?”

The Sullustan rolled his large, wet eyes. “You still don’t understand, Vykk,” he said. “When one is dealing with Hutts, there are wheels within wheels within wheels. It’s entirely possible that Zavval sent that message because we
are
vulnerable, to keep Jiliac from attacking more openly. We’re just underlings. We only see part of the picture. All you can do is pray to any gods you believe in that you never anger a Hutt. One would be better off dead, and that is no understatement.”

Han nodded. “I believe you. Still, if I were Zavval, I wouldn’t rest too easily at night. He may not have long to live …”

   Muuurgh glided through the jungle in the dimness of the short Ylesian twilight. It had taken him a day and a half to travel the 147 kilometers to Colony Two. Part of his slowness had come from the perilous crossing of the Gachoogai River. He’d been so exhausted by struggling through the rapid current that he’d had to take two hours out of his trip to hunt and then another hour to sleep. He was still tired from his ordeal … but he was finally here.

He listened for the sounds of chanting voices as he skirted the perimeter of the compound. Colony Two followed, as far as he knew, the same schedule as Colony One, so the pilgrims should be at the evening devotions.

His nostrils flared as he tested the wind, constantly sniffing
for any Togorian spoor. Several times, Muuurgh got down on his hands and knees and moved forward, sniffing, drinking in the scents left by the pilgrims who had recently passed this way.

Five minutes later he jerked as if he’d been hit with a stun-prod.
Mrrov! Mrrov came this way, no more than a day ago!
Wandering cautiously around the outskirts of the buildings, he located first the dorm she slept in, then the factory where she worked.

Lastly, he followed the freshest scent trail to a path that he was sure must lead to the Altar of Promises. Apparently Colony Two was laid out on a nearly identical plan to Colony One.

Without checking farther, the Togorian melted back into the jungle and moved as quickly as he could toward the site of the devotions. For a moment he wondered whether Mrrov might scent
his
trail, but it was unlikely. He’d been thoroughly soaked in that river, and had deliberately avoided the instinct to rub against anything and leave scent markers. He didn’t want Mrrov to try following him back to Colony One, and possibly becoming lost in the jungle when his trail was interrupted by the river.

The Togorian arrived just in time to automatically resist the mental and physical waves of the Exultation. Narrowing his eyes, Muuurgh scanned the writhing forms in front of him—

—and found Mrrov. She was twitching, but not really writhing … and there was something false about the way she moved that allowed him to pick her out easily.

She is faking
, Muuurgh thought.
I knew Mrrov was too strong-minded to be fooled by these liars for long!

He strained his eyes to make out every line of her beneath her pilgrim’s robe. But all he could see clearly was her head, orange stripes contrasting vividly with the white. He longed to see her lovely yellow eyes, but he was behind her and to her right. She could not see him.

For a second, Muuurgh nearly threw caution and his vow to Vykk to the winds—it was everything he could do
not to race into the crowd of pilgrims, grab his mate-to-be, and carry her off into the jungle.

But he had given Vykk his word of honor. Mrrov must not know he was here.

As the pilgrims staggered to their feet, the Exultation over, Muuurgh’s eyes widened as he saw that Mrrov was wearing a blue sash—as were about fifty of the hundred or so pilgrims at the devotion.

That sash! That’s the sash of the Chosen Ones! Oh, no!
He could have hissed aloud in his frustration and fear. Muuurgh had been on Ylesia for many months. He’d seen those sashes before.

Sure enough, as the pilgrims began shuffling into the night, the High Priest stepped up to call out to them in his booming voice. “All pilgrims who were issued blue sashes today, please remain behind! Your High Priest has an announcement to make!”

Obediently, the pilgrims with blue sashes stopped walking toward the path and instead shuffled forward. Mrrov looked as though she was thinking of yanking off her sash and making a run for it, but she didn’t. Muuurgh yowled inwardly.
Does she know what those sashes mean?

“Those of you who have received these blue sashes are being honored as Chosen Ones. Your piety and devotion to the One and the All have caused us to select you for a singular honor. Tomorrow night will be your last devotion here at this Altar. At dawn on the following morning, you will be taken by spaceship to meet with our missionaries, and each of you will be selected by one of our missionaries to accompany him out to spread the word of the One and the All.”

Muuurgh heard excited, greedy murmurings from the crowd, and knew the true pilgrims were ecstatic over the implication that they would be able to receive Exultations without sharing it with hundreds of other pilgrims.

Stupid
 … was the Togorian’s first thought.
They are no better than
bist
or
etelo,
worthy only of being hunted and eaten. Those spaceships will take them only to the mines of Kessel or the pleasure-houses of the Imperial
soldiers. They will receive no more Exultations, they will live in degradation and misery, and most of them will die within a year …

His second thought raised the fur along his neck and spine.
Only a day and a half until they ship her out of here! Since the Imperial soldiers want only humanoids in their pleasure-houses, that must mean that Mrrov is destined for the mines on Kessel. They figure that since she is Togorian, and strong, she will last a long time in the mines …

Muuurgh slammed a hand against a tree bole.
Curse them, I have little time! The Ylesian overlords will undoubtedly call upon Vykk or the Sullustan to ferry these pilgrims to the space station to await the Kessel transport that is coming. I must be back at Colony One to help Vykk, so we can all escape together!

Muuurgh leaped to his feet and loped off through the jungle, feeling fear drive the fatigue from his body. He turned his face southeast, heading back for Colony One. There was no time to lose … Mrrov’s very life hung in the balance.

The Togorian ran, leaping over logs and streams, ducking through low-lying bushes. His breath came easily, but he knew that would not last long. He was already travel-weary—but that could not be allowed to matter.

Like a black shadow in the blacker night, the Togorian ran …

   Bria had just finished devotions and was heading for the path leading back to her dorm when Ganar Tos fell into step beside her. She stiffened, keeping her head down, and refused to look up.
I wish Vykk were back! He’s been gone three days, now … Ganar Tos wouldn’t be following me around like this if Vykk were here …

The elderly Zisian reached out to grasp her arm, but Bria yanked it away. The majordomo smiled as he stepped forward, barring her path. “The Exalted One, Teroenza, wishes to speak with you, Pilgrim 921,” he said.

Oh, no!
she thought, feeling her heart seem to stop, then
slam in her chest so hard she was afraid Ganar Tos would actually hear it.
Teroenza has figured out that I was the one who telepathically probed his mind!

“Wh-what does he want?” she managed to say, through stiff lips, wondering if she should just try to make a run for it. Perhaps she could hide out in the jungle for a day or so until Vykk returned …

“He has something to discuss with you,” Tos said, smiling at her. Bria cringed from that smile, but she decided there was no point in running. The guards would only track her down and kill her …

So she turned and headed back toward the Altar of Promises.

When she reached Teroenza, the High Priest peered down at her as she made the proper obeisance. Bria’s heart pounded, and she was so frightened she felt light-headed, dizzy.

“Pilgrim 921,” Teroenza addressed her in his booming voice, “you have served us faithfully, and I am pleased with you. I am also pleased with my loyal servant, Ganar Tos. I wish to reward both of you.”

Bria glanced sideways at the Zisian, whose orange eyes were practically glowing with happiness.
Oh, no. I have a bad feeling about this …

Teroenza indicated the majordomo. “Ganar Tos has asked me for your hand in marriage, and I am pleased to grant his request. Stand before me, and I will pronounce the words to make you his wife.”

Bria gasped and wondered if she should let herself faint. She felt as though she might be able to do it—black spots swam before her eyes, and her ears rang. Then she felt a wash of pleasure engulf her, such exquisite pleasure that she almost passed out from that. The pleasure was so intense, so warm, so loving, that she might almost have agreed to anything, just to have it continue.

But just as she was about to nod like a pliant zombie, Vykk’s face swam before her eyes. Bria’s spine stiffened, and her chin came up. She didn’t dare faint—if she did, she’d likely wake up married to Ganar Tos and being
carried back to their nuptial bed. The thought made her gag, and the priest’s pleasure-vibes lost their power over her. Bria experienced a sudden, vivid image of herself sharing a bed with Ganar Tos, and for an awful second she was afraid she might be sick.

Control yourself!
she commanded.
Think!

“But, Exalted One,” she murmured timidly, forcing herself to keep her eyes modestly downcast, “I have taken vows of chastity. I cannot marry anyone.”

“Your piety does you credit, Pilgrim,” Teroenza boomed. “And yet, the One and All bless fruitful unions, just as much as they bless the celibate state. I am granting you a special dispensation so that you may marry Ganar Tos and raise your children to be faithful to the One and the All.”

Clever old monster
, Bria thought, hating Teroenza as she’d never hated anyone before in her life.
There’s no way around his argument without my committing blasphemy
.

She took a long, deep breath, to give herself time to think. “Very well, Exalted One,” she said meekly. “If you say this is the will of the One and the All, I must bow to it. I will be a good wife to Ganar Tos.” Gritting her teeth inwardly, she forced herself to lay her hand on his warty green arm.

“Good, Pilgrim,” Teroenza said, raising his arms to begin the ceremony.

“
But
, Exalted One,” Bria raised her voice slightly, “I must follow the customs of my own people before I can consider myself legally married.” Before the priest could refuse her, she hurried on, “They are simple, and easily fulfilled, Exalted One. I ask for but a day to purify myself and meditate upon the sacred state of marriage. Also, on Corellia, it is traditional for a woman to wear a green gown to her wedding. I can easily ask the tailor droid to prepare one for me by tomorrow evening.”

Bria held her breath as Teroenza hesitated. Finally, the High Priest must have decided that she wasn’t asking for that much. “Very well, Pilgrim 921,” he boomed. Ganar Tos’s face fell. “Tomorrow evening, before the entire assembly,
you and Ganar Tos shall be joined. May the blessing of the One and the All be upon you.”

Teroenza sketched a quick sign in the air, and then turned and lumbered away.

Ganar Tos headed purposefully for Bria. “I will walk you back to your dorm,” he said.

“Very well,” she agreed, but she pulled away when he tried to put an arm around her. “The groom must not touch the bride during the last day before the ceremony,” she cooed, lying through her teeth. “Another Corellian tradition. Surely you can wait one short day, my groom-to-be?”

He nodded shortly. “Very well, wife-to-be. I swear to you, I will be a good husband. It is my fondest wish that we will be blessed with many children.”

“That is my fondest wish, too,” Bria said sweetly. Within the voluminous sleeves of her robes, she crossed all the fingers of both hands.

Please, Vykk
, she thought frantically,
hurry back! Please!