Star Wars - Han Solo and the Lost Legacy Read Online Free PDF Page A

dropped off here.”
    Badure—Trooper—was a friend of long standing, and he seemed to have come on hard times. Han tried not to take notice of his faded, patched laborer’s tunic and trousers or the scuffed and torn work boots. Still, Badure had held on to his old flight jacket, covered with its unit insignia and theater patches, and his jaunty, sweat-stained beret with its fighter-wing flash. “But how’d you know we were here?”
    Badure laughed, his belly rolling. “I keep track of landings and departures, Slick. But in this case I knew you were coming.”
    Much as he liked this old man, Han was suspicious. “Maybe you’d better tell me more, Badure.”
    He looked pleased with himself. “How do you think those university types got your name, son? Not that it doesn’t getaround as is; I heard about that stunt at the Saheelindeeli airshow—and some rumors from out in the Corporate Sector, and something about water smuggled down the Rampa Rapids. I was here tracking down a few things on my own and heard someone was asking about capable skippers and fast ships. I passed your name along. But before we go into that, shouldn’t you be saying hello to my business partner here?”
    Han had been so preoccupied that he had ignored the person standing beside Badure. Chiding himself silently for this unusual lapse in caution, he looked her over.
    The girl was short and slender, not long into womanhood, with a pale face and disorderly red hair that hung limply. Her brows and lashes were so light that they scarcely showed. She wore a drab, baggy brown outfit of pullover and pants, and her shoes appeared to be a size too large. Her hands had seen hard work. Han had met many men and women just like her, each bearing the stamp of the factory drone or mining-camp worker, lowest-echelon tech or other toiler.
    She in turn studied him with no approval whatsoever. “This is Hasti,” Badure said. “She already knows your name.” Indicating the flow of beings moving around them to and from the busy spa, he gestured that they continue toward the entrance.
    Han acceded, moving slowly, but a sideways slide of the older man’s eyes confirmed something. “What do I watch for?” he inquired simply.
    Badure laughed and said, more to himself than to Han or Hasti, “Same old Han Solo, a one-man sensor suite.”
    Han’s thoughts were on Badure. The man had been his friend many years before and his partner on various enterprises a number of times since. Once, in an uncomfortable situation stemming from an abortive Kessel spice run, Badure had saved both Han’s and Chewbacca’s lives. That he should have sought them out here could mean only one thing.
    “I won’t waste your time, kid,” Badure said. “There are some that would like to see my hide hung out to dry. I needa ship with punch, and gait to spare, and a skipper I can trust.”
    Han realized that Badure wasn’t going to be first to mention the life-debt the two partners owed him. “You want us to put our necks in the slot for you, is that it? Trooper, saving someone’s life doesn’t give you the right to risk it again. We’re finally ahead of the game; do we owe it all out again this soon?”
    Badure countered in neutral tones. “You’re answering for the Wook, too, Han?”
    “Chewie’ll see it my way.”
If I have to reason with him with a wrench!
    Hasti joined the conversation for the first time. “
Now
are you satisfied, Badure?” she asked bitterly.
    The old man hushed her gently. To Han he went on, “I’m not asking you two to work for nothing. There’d be a cut—”
    “The thing is, we’re flush. Uh, in fact, we can cut some loose to see you through for a while.”
    He felt he had gone too far and thought for a moment that Badure was going to swing at him. The old man had made and spent a number of fortunes and had always been open-handed to his friends; but the offer of charity to himself had the ring of an insult. Favoring Han with a venomous look,