Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare (31 page)

She began to shiver violently. Han pulled her to him, held her tightly, and stroked her hair, murmuring words of comfort. Inside, though, his mind was racing, and he realized that
he
was scared, too. Scared of how much he felt for this woman. Han had had some pretty definite plans regarding Bria that had involved them spending copious amounts of time alone, in each other’s arms.

But she’s not ready for that
, he realized with a sinking feeling.
She needs a friend, not a lover
.

How long would it take for Bria to regain herself?

Only time would tell.

·  ·  ·

“Coming up on Togoria,” Han said, “where should I land us?”

“Our largest city is Caross,” Mrrov told him, indicating an area on the schematic of the planet. “From Caross we can send a messenger to the Margrave of Togoria, the ruler of all the male hunters. There is a landing field just outside Caross. We do not have our own ships, yet, but traders and passenger ships from other worlds visit our planet.”

“Okay, then, Caross it is,” Han said. With great care he piloted the
Talisman
down to a perfect landing in the center of the field. At the moment, no other ships were present.

“Muuurgh,” Han said as he updated his log, “are you two worried about reprisals from the t’landa Til or the Hutts?”

“Not greatly,” Muuurgh said, ostentatiously flexing his claws. “When Mrrov and I have assembled our tribes, we will be wed. It is then traditional with our people for a newly married couple to spend a long—what do you call it?” He said a word in his own language to Mrrov, whose Basic was much better than his own.

“Honeymoon,” she supplied.

“Yes, a long honeymoon together. Remember that on our world, males and females live separately for much of each year. Once we are past our honeymoon, Mrrov and I will see each other only once a year, for about a month. It is our way of life. But first”—the giant Togorian gave his mate-to-be a cheek rub—“we will spend a long time together, just the two of us, in the mountains. The Hutts and Ylesians will not find us, and our people will not tolerate their looking. Any pilot that lands on Togoria and asks questions about Mrrov or Muuurgh will be … dealt with.”

Mrrov gave a feral smile that showed many needle-sharp teeth. “Not many species have the courage to intentionally anger Torgorians. I believe most bounty hunters would rather hunt … easier … prey.”

“I can believe it,” Han said sincerely. “Okay, then. We’re here. Now what? Do you two just walk off, claw in claw?” He grinned at Bria, who gave him a wan smile. Food and
rest had restored her somewhat, but he knew she was still battling her inner demons and longings.

“If Han must leave, Muuurgh and Mrrov will understand,” said the giant male. “But if Han and Bria could stay for a day or two, they would be able to stand with us at our ceremony that will make us a mated couple. You would call it a ‘wedding.’ ”

Han looked over at Bria. “So … we’ve just been invited to a wedding, sweetheart. Want to stay for a couple of days? I think we could both use a rest.”

“Sure,” she said, and smiled at the Togorians. “Nothing could please me more.”

A contingent of Togorian females, with a small scattering of visiting males, was approaching the ship. Han and his party walked down the ramp. Mrrov and Muuurgh were immediately enfolded by the crowd, amid roars and yowls and vibrating purrs of happiness.

Still standing at the bottom of the ramp, Han took Bria’s hand and looked around him at Togoria. “Nice planet,” he said. “After Ylesia,
this
seems like a
real
paradise.”

“It
is
beautiful,” she agreed. “Just right.”

It was, indeed, a beautiful world. Overhead arced a deep blue sky, with a few puffy white clouds. The sky held just a tint of green to it, so it was almost indigo around the horizon. Tall mountain peaks shone white and glistening in the distance. Dark forests made a backdrop for a blue lake surrounded by meadowlands. Exotic green-fringed white blooms with scarlet leaves waved in the gentle breeze.

Overhead, Han spotted a large flying creature, and realized it must be one of the mosgoths Muuurgh had told him were the principal means of travel on Togoria. Mosgoths were large flying lizards, very intelligent. Togorians had domesticated the mosgoths long ago. Each species worked together to protect each other against even larger winged reptiles, the deadly liphons who stole both Togorian cubs and mosgoth eggs.

As Han watched, the mosgoth circled the landing field, and then began to descend. Han saw the Togorian male perched on its back, guiding it by means of a nose-halter.
He was impressed by the rapport that appeared to exist between mount and rider.

Togorian air was some of the cleanest, most refreshing Han had ever breathed. Mrrov had told him earlier that all Togorian technology was based on solar power, for just this reason. Togorians revered their world and had no wish to despoil it or pollute it in the name of progress, as so many other species in the galaxy had done.

Han took an experimental step or two, then bounced on his heels. He felt light … almost buoyant. That fit, for Togoria’s gravity was somewhat less than Corellian or Ylesian gravity.

Suddenly the crowd parted, and Muuurgh, still bandaged but walking with almost his old confident stride, emerged, with Mrrov at his side. “Our clans are being summoned for the mating ceremony, and the feast that will follow,” he said. “You are our welcome guests. Please … follow us.”

Han and Bria followed.

Caross proved to be a lovely city—white native stone was used to build terraced houses against the hillsides. Everywhere gardens abounded, and parks for strolling. Togorian females busied themselves with projects, or cared for rowdy cubs. Muuurgh explained that both female and male cubs remained with their mothers until they neared adulthood, then the males returned to the clan with their fathers to learn the ways of the hunter’s life.

During the next two days, Han and Bria rested, ate delicious meals (though they insisted on their meat being cooked), and took long strolls together around the parks, through the gardens. Han also took flying lessons from a young male, Rrowv—lessons on how to ride and control a mosgoth. With his quick reflexes and daring, Han was soon soaring astride his mount far above the treetops, glorying in the feel of the sturdy ribbed wings pumping behind him as he sat in the small saddle mounted on the mosgoth’s shoulders.

The mosgoths proved to be affectionate creatures that
enjoyed having their tiny ear flaps scratched and their chests rubbed.

All through the day following their arrival, mosgoths bearing male riders arrived from all over Togoria. The word had gone out that Muuurgh the hunter had returned, and all his clan-relatives were gathering to welcome him home and attend his and Mrrov’s wedding.

Muuurgh and Mrrov were kept busy relating their adventures among the stars to audiences of their people. Mrrov never tired of repeating the story of what had happened to her, lest some other unwary female Togorian be sucked in by promises of a Ylesian “paradise.”

The wedding “ceremony” took place at sunset of their third day on Togoria. Han and Bria stood beside Muuurgh and Mrrov as they solemnly faced their assembled clans. Their fur gleamed from hours of careful grooming. Only the small white bandage on Muuurgh’s side marred his shining coat. On their native world, Togorians rarely wore clothing—their weather was so clement that it was seldom needed.

First the betrothed couple faced their clans, turning slowly so that all might see their faces. At Muuurgh’s signal, Han and Bria then stepped back to stand with the crowd of onlookers.

Mrrov and Muuurgh turned to face each other. Han blinked in surprise as a low, growling yowl began emanating from their throats. Both bared their teeth and hissed. Their claws sprang out.

Then, so quickly that the eye could scarcely follow, they sprang at each other and went down on the ground, teeth locked in each other’s throats. Growling, yowling, and snarling, they rolled over and over, slashing at each other with their front paw-hands. Their feet were busy, too, digging deep into each other’s furred belly.

Han looked over at Bria, who was looking faintly alarmed. But no one in the crowd seemed to find anything amiss about what was happening.
It takes all kinds to make a galaxy
 … Han thought.

Finally, panting and growling, the two combatants broke
apart. Despite the apparent ferocity of their attacks, no blood was visible on their coats. The two circled each other, and their yowls gradually died away into soft, gentle noises. They stood close together, rubbing their faces against each other for a long time. Han could hear their hoarse purring from where he was standing.

Then, suddenly, Mrrov hissed, spat, and lashed out at Muuurgh again. He leaped at her, and then they were down on the ground again, rolling and clawing and biting.

Han gave Bria’s hand a squeeze. “Romantic, isn’t it?” he whispered with a grin.

“Shhhhh!” she replied.

Moments later the nuptial pair were purring and rubbing against each other, eyes half-closed with pleasure.

The crowd was getting more excited. Han could hear a vibrating purr arising from all sides. Again Muuurgh and Mrrov went through their “fighting” act.

But this time, when they reached the cheek-rubbing stage, Muuurgh grabbed Mrrov by the loose folds of skin at the back of her neck. Clutching her in his teeth and powerful arms, he lifted her smaller form and carried her across the circle. The crowd parted before them, opening like a door.

Muuurgh vanished into the darkness, still carrying his mate. Moments later two loud, triumphantly ecstatic yowls broke the stillness—and then silence reigned.

The crowd murmured their approval of the completion of the rite. Han was nearly knocked over by Togorian relatives of Muuurgh’s slapping his shoulders and assuring him that that had been one of the finest weddings they had ever been privileged to witness.

They feasted into the night. Han and Bria slipped away to take a walk in the park, beneath Togoria’s two tiny moons. The stars blazed overhead. “So,” Han said, “how did today go? Is it getting any easier?”

She nodded slightly. “A little. Sometimes I can go a whole hour without missing it, Han. Sometimes, though, I feel like the minutes are just crawling by, and I’m hanging on to my sanity by my fingernails.”

“Well, tomorrow I’ve got something special planned,” he said, smiling at her. “Get ready to have some fun. I’ve got everything arranged.”

“What?” she asked. “What are we going to do?”

“That’d be telling,” he teased, “Just prepare to get up with the birds, okay?”

“They don’t have birds on Togoria,” she reminded him. “Just teeny flying lizards.”

“That’s true,” he said. “But get up early, okay?”

“Okay.”

   When Bria arose the next morning, she could not find Han anywhere in their suite of rooms. But she did find a basket of fruit, a jug of fruit juice, some strips of smoked meat, and a loaf of bread on a tray. On the tray was a strip of flimsy and written on it were the following words: “Dress, eat, and come outside. I’ll be waiting—H.”

Bria read the note, raised her eyebrows, then went off to do as it said. Her curiosity was so strong that it even muted the constant craving for the Exultation. Sometimes the longings came in waves so intense that she felt that she might go mad. But as the days passed, such occurrences were rarer.

Bria prayed to all the true gods of the universe that someday they would cease altogether.

When she reached the courtyard outside the building where they’d been quartered, Bria found Han waiting for her. He was sitting astride a mosgoth, with a pack and a blanket strapped behind the saddle. As she stood there uncertainly, he leaned down and held out a hand. “C’mon! Climb up!”

She stared from him to the mosgoth, to the open reaches of the Togorian sky. “You want me to fly with you on this … creature?” she asked. To fly in a spaceship, or aboard a landskimmer, was one thing. To climb aboard a huge reptile and soar off into the sky seemed quite another.

“Sure!” Han leaned over to pat the neck of his mount. “This is Kaydiss, and she’s a real sweetie, aren’t you, girl?”

The mosgoth arched her sinewy neck and flicked out a long, forked tongue, obviously enjoying the caress.

Bria took a deep breath. “Okay,” she said.
After all
, she thought,
the worst that can happen is that we’ll fall out of the sky and get killed. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about the Exultation anymore, would I?

Grasping his hand, she put a foot up onto the beast’s leg, which it obligingly crooked to help her mount. With a pull and a scramble, she was up, sitting before Han. His arms were around her, as secure as a safety harness. Bria gasped, then shut her eyes as he clucked to Kaydiss and twitched the reins.

With two huge leaping strides and a thrust of the mosgoth’s powerful wings, Han and Bria were airborne and climbing steadily. Bria opened her eyes to find herself high above the tops of the buildings. The wind rushed by her face, blowing her hair, bringing tears to her eyes.

“Oh!” she cried. “Han, this is
wonderful!
”

“Yep,” he said, a pardonable note of smugness in his voice. “And just wait till you see where I’m taking you.”

Bria held the front of the saddle (with the two of them squeezed together, she wasn’t too worried about falling off) and exulted in the feeling of really
flying
.

Forests and rivers flowed by beneath them. Bria stared down at the fields, the towns, and the lakes, grinning ecstatically. She hadn’t felt this good since … well, since her last Exultation.

But even the Exultation seemed to have lost its power over her, for the moment. Leaning forward, Bria opened her mouth, drinking in the wind of their passage. She wanted to wave her arms and whoop aloud, but she resisted, not wanting to chance unbalancing the mosgoth.

“Won’t it tire her out, carrying double?” she shouted back at Han.

His voice came almost in her ear. She could feel the warmth of his breath. “She’s used to carrying male Togorians. You and me together don’t weigh as much as Muuurgh—or even some of the smaller males. Kaydiss is fine.”