Han Solo And The Lost Legacy Part 7

"Old-fas.h.i.+oned hypno, " Han dismissed it, "nothing you can't overcome if we scare you enough." Gallandro stepped forward with a wintry smile, pulling his pistol in one fluid motion, adjusting it one-handed. A low-power, high-resolution beam sizzled into the ground at the captive's feet, blackening and curling the gra.s.s. The man paled. Bollux had come up, his chest plastron open. "There's a better way," Blue Max advised.

"Circ.u.mvent his conditioning, and we can find out anything we want. We can rig up a strobe and key it to the same light pattern the Survivors use." Gallandro was dubious. "Query, computer can you duplicate the Survivors' light pulses exactly?"

"Quit talking to me like I'm some kind of appliance!" snarled Max.

"Beg pardon," said Gallandro politely. "I keep forgetting. Shall we proceed?"

16.

THE Millennium Falcon moved through the Dellaltian air at what was for her a conservative speed. Even so, Han was recovering the distance from the city in minutes. Gallandro was off gathering equipment elsewhere in the s.h.i.+p, with Bollux's help. Hasti and Badure sat, respectively, in the navigator's and communication officer's high-backed chairs behind Han and Chewbacca. Skynx, his injuries dressed and treated, as theirs had been, was curled in Hasti's lap.

"It's hard to accept," Hasti was saying. "All these years. How could a secret be kept for generations?"

"Secrets have been kept for ages," Badure pointed out. "It was easy enough in this case; there're really two strata in the Survivors'

organization. The dupes lived and died there in the mountains, maintaining the war-robots as a religious ritual, holding their ceremonies once in a while. Then there were the others, the ones who knew the secret of Xim's treasure and waited for the time they could use it."

"But they all got the conditioning as children, right?" Han asked.

"And when Lanni happened on the mountain base and got her hands on the log-recorder disk and put it in the lockbox at the vaults," Hasti murmured, her voice thick with sorrow, "she couldn't have known that the steward was part of the Survivors' apparatus." Such had been the a.s.sistant's testimony once his conditioning had been overcome. The steward had sent the disk back to the Survivors' mountain warren as soon as it had come into his possession, of course. And he had contrived a nonexistent voice-coder to keep Lanni, Hasti, or anyone else from claiming it. He was aware that Fuoch had learned something about the disk from Lanni before killing her, and that the woman was actively seeking it. 'He had pa.s.sed word to her through Survivor double agents that the Millennium Falcon had landed, knowing he couldn't cope with the stars.h.i.+p if force were brought to bear on the vaults. He knew Fuoch could, and hoped that Hasti and the others and their s.h.i.+p would be destroyed in battle, and the matter closed. But instead, Fuoch had mounted the ambush that had resulted in the capture of the Falcon. Not having found the disk onboard the stars.h.i.+p, Fuoch had made pointed inquiries at the vaults. The steward had managed to put her off but, knowing it was only a matter of time until she used force to inspect the lockboxes herself and put him to a more harrowing interrogation, he ordered the long-dormant Guardian Corps sent out against the mining camp. The war-robots, maintained through generations for just such an emergency, had come close to accomplis.h.i.+ng their purpose.

"So why are the Survivors still sitting on their money after all this tune?" Han wondered.

"The Old Republic was stable and unbeatable," Badure answered.

"They had no hope of moving against it, even with Xim's treasure backing them. It's only now, with the Empire having its troubles, that the Survivors smelled a setup they might be able to exploit, especially here in the Tion Hegemony. I bet small-timers everywhere are getting the same sort of idea."

"A new Xim, and a new despotism," Hasti mused. "How could they have believed it, even under conditioning?" "They can believe one thing," Han said, watching the land roll by quickly beneath them. "The Survivors are about to suffer a capital loss."

"Shouldn't we have a bigger s.h.i.+p?" Hasti inquired. Han shook his head. "First we make sure the treasure's there, and put what we can in the Falcon. Then we uns.h.i.+p a quad-battery and some defensive s.h.i.+elding generators. Gallandro and I will hold the fort while Chewie and the rest of you go find a bigger s.h.i.+p, about the size of Fuoch's lighter, say. It won't take too long."

"And what will you do with your share of the money?" Badure asked casually. He saw doubt and confusion cross the pilot's face.

"I'll worry about that when I've got a stack of credits so high I'll have to rent a warehouse," Han replied at last. Gallandro, who had just entered the c.o.c.kpit, carrying the equipment he had gathered, said, "Well put, Solo! Indelicate, but on target." He checked their progress. "We'll be there in a moment. I haven't ransacked a bank in a long time; there's a certain zest to it."

Han reserved his reply and put the stars.h.i.+p into a steep dive. The Falcon dropped out of the sky ahead of her own sonic boom. Dellaltians near the vaults suddenly saw the vessel appear above them, its braking thrusters thundering, its landing gear extended like predatory claws. People scurried for shelter as the shock wave of the freighter's pa.s.sage caught up with her, making the ground tremble and the buildings shake. She came to rest on the roofless portico outside the vaults' single door. The Falcon's external speakers whooped and wailed with emergency sirens and klaxons. Her visual warning systems and running lights were flas.h.i.+ng at maximum luminescence. Bystanders would have difficulty seeing and hearing, much less interfering. The ramp dropped and Han and Gallandro ran down, blasters ready, equipment and tools weighting them. Behind followed Badure, Hasti, and Skynx. The girl objected, "Are you sure there isn't some other way to do this? " Han had to read her lips, unable to hear her in the din. He shook his head. Chewbacca had to stay at the controls, both because he knew the s.h.i.+p and because Han trusted only the Wookiee with care of the Falcon. Bollux stayed behind as well to keep a photoreceptor on instrumentation the first mate couldn't spare time to monitor. Han wanted at least two people to hold the main door, Hasti and Badure. He and Gallandro would do the searching, taking Skynx along to translate. The area seemed fairly secure; the Dellaltians had no way to cope with an armed stars.h.i.+p. Han waved to his partner in the c.o.c.kpit, and though he couldn't be heard, added, "Fire, Chewie!"

From the Falcon's top and belly turrets shot lines of red annihilation, playing on the closed door of the treasure vault. Smoke obscured the door in seconds as the quad-guns traced incandescent lines across it. Red cannonfire pitted and burned through material that had withstood generations of time and weathering, cutting glowing gashes in it. No weapon of its time could have penetrated it so easily, but in moments the door had been breached, pieces of it falling away. The reports of the gunfire added to the tremendous noise level. Han signaled again and Chewbacca ceased fire. Smoke billowed away on the chill wind to reveal a yawning hole, its red-hot edges quickly cooling. "Armed robbery!" laughed Gallandro. "There's nothing like it!"

"Let's get inside," Han mouthed. They ran together and hurdled through the gaping door. Hasti and Badure followed a moment later. "Stay here and make sure you maintain com-link with Chewie," Han told them.

Badure set Skynx down.

"Don't forget the defensive system!" Hasti called as Han, Gallandro, and Skynx raced off. Among the things their captives had revealed was the fact that the treasure vaults were equipped with defensive security devices; the presence of a firearm in any protected area would trigger automated weapons. They went deeper into the gloom of the cavernous vestibule, abandoned by the Dellaltians, who had wisely sought other refuge Han didn't see a man appear to one side, weapon raised, but Gallandro caught the movement, drew, and fired all in the same instant. The steward cried aloud, clutching his middle, then collapsing to the pressure-pacted tile floor. The gunman kicked the steward's dropped disruptor away.

"You cannot, cannot," the white-bearded man moaned, half in delirium from his wound. "We have kept it, safe, unsullied since we were entrusted with it. " His lids fluttered and lowered forever. Gallandro laughed. "We'll make better use of it than you, old man. At least we'll get it into circulation, eh, Solo?" Han, moving on, offered no answer.

Gallandro came after, and Skynx rushed to catch up. They descended dusty ramps and broad staircases, the empty vaults all around them. At one point they lowered themselves by the cable of an ancient lift platform that no longer worked, complying precisely with the instructions extracted from the captive Survivors under hypno. Han marked their trail with a tint bulb. At the lowest level of the vault proper they came to a forking of the ways. Their information on the vault-complex layout went no further than this.

"It's off this corridor, one of the side tunnels," Han said. "Got your copy of the identi-marks? Good."

"The little fellow can stay with you, Solo," Gallandro replied, meaning Skynx. "I prefer to operate alone." He hitched up the straps holding his equipment and stalked away.

"Okay, stay sharp," Han told Skynx, and the search began. Soon they were absorbed in the intricate business of examining side corridors for the identi-marks described by their prisoners and copied by Skynx. These lowest levels of the vault proper were stale and seemed airless, layered with ankle-deep dust; and a gloom that resisted the beam of the hand-held spotlight. They pa.s.s ed room after room of empty bins and vacant shelves.

At last Skynx stopped. "Captain, this is it! These are the ones!" He was vibrating with excitement. To Han the side corridor looked no different from any other, ending as it did in a blank wall at the bottom of an obviously empty vault complex. But Skynx was right; the identi-marks matched. Han shucked his other gear and lifted a heavy-duty fusion cutter into place. Skynx, taking the com-link, tried to contact the others and inform them of the find, but could raise no response.

"The walls are probably too thick," Han suggested as he set to work. When it had been built, the wall would have withstood any a.s.sault that could have been made with portable equipment, but Han was beneficiary of a long technological gap. Chunks of the wall began to fall away. Beyond was the glow of a perpetual illumi-system. Han set the fusion cutter aside hurriedly, anxious to see for himself. A treasure beyond spending! He could barely contain himself. He ducked and stepped through, followed by Skynx. The vault was dust-free, dry, and as quiet as when Xim's artisans had sealed it, moments before they were put to death, centuries ago. His steps echoing in the stillness, Han smiled. "The real vaults; all the time they were right here!" Hunters had scoured this whole part of s.p.a.ce for Xim's treasure because his vaults were empty and all the time. there had been complete duplicates, right under the decoys.

"Skynx, I'll buy you a planet to play with!" The Ruurian made no answer, silenced by the weight of years hanging over the place. They followed the corridor through a few turns and came to a stretch where warning flashers blinked in their wall sockets, as they had been doing for centuries. This no-weapons zone was an antechamber to the true treasure vaults of Xim.

Han stopped, wis.h.i.+ng neither to be burned by the defensive weapons nor to go on unarmed, aware he might face other dangers. He turned back with great reluctance. At the fusion-cut opening, Gallandro waited. Han paused and Skynx waited uncertainly. "We found it," the pilot told the gunman with a jerk of his thumb. "The real one. It's back there. " He realized Gallandro had heard Skynx's transmissions after all. Gallandro registered no elation, only amused acceptance. Han knew without being told that everything had changed. The gunman's abandoned equipment was stacked to one side, and he had doffed his short jacket, prelude to a gun duel. "I said, the treasure is back there, " Han repeated. Gallandro smiled his frosty smile. "This has nothing to do with money, Solo, although I postponed it until you and your group could help me find the vaults. I have my own plans for Xim's treasure." Han warily shrugged out of his jacket. "Why?" was all he asked, carefully unsnapping his holster's retaining strap and rotating it forward out of his way. His fingers stretched and worked, waiting.

"You require chastening, Solo. Who do you think you are? Truth to tell, you're nothing but a commonplace outlaw. Your luck has run out now, call the play! Han nodded, knowing Gallandro would if he didn't. "And this'll make you feel superior, right?" His hand blurred for his blaster, the best single play of his life. Their speeddraw mechanics were very different. Han's incorporated movements of shoulders and knees, a slight dipping, a partial twist. Gallandro's was ruthless economy, an explosion of every nerve and muscle that moved his right arm alone. When the blaster bolt slammed into his shoulder, Han's overwhelming reaction was surprise; some part of him had believed in his luck to the end. His own draw half-completed, his shot went into the floor. He was spun half around, in shock, smelling the stench of his own charred flesh. The pain of the wound started an instant later. A second bolt from the cautious Gallandro struck his forearm and Han's blaster dropped. Han sank to his knees, too startled to cry out. Skynx retreated with a terrified chitter.

Swaying, clasping his wounded arm to him, Han heard Gallandro say, "That was very good, Solo; you came closer than anyone's come in a long time.

But now I'll take you back to the Corporate Sector-not that I care about the Authority's justice, but there are those who have to be shown what it means to stand in my way."

Han gasped through locked teeth, "I'm not doing time in any Authority horror factory. " Gallandro ignored that. "Your friends are more expendable, however. If you'll pardon me, I'll have to see to your Ruurian comrade before he gets into any mischief." He slapped a pair of binders he'd found onboard the Falcon around Han's ankles and ground the pilot's com-link under his heel. "You were never the amoralist you feigned to be, Solo, but I am. In a way, it's too bad we didn't meet later, when you were salted and wiser. You're pretty good in a fight; you might've made a useful- lieutenant. " He removed the charge from Han's blaster, tucked it into his belt, and sauntered off after Skynx, who, unable to get past the gunman, had fled back down the corridors toward the treasure vaults. Gallandro moved cautiously, knowing the Ruurian was unarmed but counting no being harmless when it was fighting for its life.

He rounded a corner to see Skynx cowering against the wall some distance along, gazing at him with huge, terrified eyes, paralyzed with fear.

Around the far turn of the corridor he could see the reflected warning lights of a no-weapons zone. Gripping his blaster, Gallandro smirked.

"It's a pity, my little friend, but there's too much at stake here Solo's the only one I can afford to take alive. I shall make this as easy as I can. Hold still." Drawing a bead on Skynx's head, he stepped forward.

Energy discharges flashed from hidden emplacements; even Gallandro's fabulous reflexes gave him no edge against the speed of light. Caught -in a flaring crossfire of defensive weapons, the gunman was. .h.i.t by a dozen lethal blasts- before he could so much as move. He was the center of an abrupt inferno, then his scorched remains fell to the corridor floor and the smell of incinerated flesh clogged the air. Skynx uncoiled from his spot at the corridor wall bit by bit. He threw aside the warning flashers he had removed from their sockets along the corridor's wall. He gave silent thanks Gallandro hadn't noticed the empty sockets; a prudent Ruurian probably would have. "Humans," remarked Skynx, then went off to rescue Han Solo.

"Not much left of him, is there?" Han asked rhetorically an hour later as he stood over Gallandro's blackened remains. Like the others, he had left his gun outside the no-weapons zone. Badure and Hasti had made temporary repairs to his shoulder and forearm with one of the s.h.i.+p's medi-packs. If Han received competent medical attention soon, there would be no lasting effect from Gallandro's blaster bolts. Chewbacca was just finis.h.i.+ng a careful examination of that corridor and the one beyond, running a thorough check along the walls to search out each weapons emplacement. He had opened each one with hand tools and deactivated it.

Satisfied that there would be no danger in bringing power equipment and tools inside, the Wookiee barked to Han.

"Let's get busy; I don't like the idea of the Falcon being unmanned." When Skynx had returned with news of the gun duel; Chewbacca had moved the stars.h.i.+p so that she blocked the main door, her ramp extended down through it. He had warped the s.h.i.+p's defensive mantle around and set her guns to fire automatically on sensor-lock should anyone come too close, one warning volley and then the real item. The Dellaltians trapped inside on the stars.h.i.+p's arrival had already surrendered and been permitted to leave; the Falcon would protect the treasure hunters for the time being, but Han didn't want to press his already overextended luck. They gathered their gear and moved on. At the end of the next corridor was a metal wall bearing a Wookiee-high representation of Xim's death's-head symbol. Chewbacca lifted the fusion cutter to it and began slicing, splitting the insignia in two amid flying, flas.h.i.+ng motes. Then he began carving in earnest. Heat washed back across him. In short order there was -a wide opening in the door.

Beyond, bathed in the glow of illumi-panels that had been keeping the place bright for generations, was the glittering of gems, the gleam of metals, piles of strongboxes, and racks of storage cylinders in warehouse-sized shelf stacks that stretched from floor to high ceiling and away into the distance as far as they could see. And this was only the first of the treasure rooms. Skynx was quiet, almost reverent. He had made the find of a lifetime, a discovery out of daydreams. Badure and Hasti remained solemn, too, as they considered the size and wealth of the place, the impact it would have on their lives, and the memory of what they had gone through to stand here. Not so Han and Chewbacca. The pilot jumped through the gap in the door, wounded arm held to him by a traction web. "We did it! We did it!" he shouted in glee. The Wookiee lurched after him, tossing his long-maned head back with an ecstatic "Rooo-oo! "

They slapped each other, laughter echoing away into the piles of treasure. Chewbacca's huge feet slapped the floors in a thumping victory dance as Han laughed in joy. Skynx and Badure had gone to open containers with Bollux's help, to examine Xim's spoils. Chewbacca offered to a.s.sist them. "Spread it out here! " Han enjoined him. "I want to roll around in it!" He paused when he noticed Hasti nearby, eyeing him strangely. "I always wondered what you'd be like," she told him "when you found your big win, you and the Wook. What now?" Han still rode the wave of elation.

" What now? Why, we'll, we'll--" He stopped, giving the subject some serious thought for the first time. "We'll pay off our debts, get ourselves a first-cla.s.s s.h.i.+p and crew, uh . . . "

Hasti nodded to herself. "And settle down, Han? " she asked softl y. "Buy a planet, or take over a few conglomerates and live the life of a good man of business?" She shook her head slowly. "Your problems are just beginning, rich man." His joy was receding fast, replaced by a tangled knot of doubts, plans, the need for forethought and mature wisdom. But before he could berate Hasti for being a spoilsport, he heard Chewbacca's angry roar. The Wookiee held a metallic ingot, frowning at it in disgust.

He dumped a handful of them onto the floor in a chiming avalanche and gave the pile a kick that sent ingots skittering every which way. Han forgot Hasti and went to his friend. "What is it?" Chewbacca explained with frustrated grunts and moans. Han picked up one of the ingots and saw that his copilot was right. "This stuff's kiirium! You can get it anywhere; Skynx, what's it doing in with the treasure?" The small academician had located a vault-directory screen at the end of the nearest shelf stack, an old televiewer mounted on a low stand. He brought it to flickering life, and columns of ciphers and characters raced across the screen as Skynx answered distractedly.

"There would seem to be a great deal of it here, Captain. And a huge quant.i.ty of mytag crystalline vertices and mountains of enriched bordh.e.l.l-type fuel slugs, among other things."

"Mytag crystals?" Han repeated in puzzlement. "They run those things off by the carload; what kind of treasure's this? Where's the real treasure?" A belly laugh distracted him. Badure had found a canister of the mytag crystal and flung a double handful into the air. The crystals rained down around him, catching the light, as he convulsed in laughter.

"This is it! Or was, an age ago. Don't you see, Slick? Kiirium is artificial s.h.i.+elding material, not very good by modern standards but a major breakthrough in its time, and tough to produce to boot. With quant.i.ties of kiirium to s.h.i.+eld heavy guns and engines, Xim could field warcraft that were better armed and faster than anything else in s.p.a.ce at the time.

"And mytag crystals were used in old subs.p.a.ce commo and detection gear; you needed lots and lots of them for any s.p.a.cefleet or planetary defenses. And so forth; all this was critical war materiel. With the, stuff in these vaults, Xim could have a.s.sembled a war machine that would have conquered this whole part of s.p.a.ce. But he lost big at the Third Battle of Vontor, first."

"That's it?" Han bellowed. "We went through all this for a treasure that's obsolete?"

"Not quite, " Skynx commented mildly, still bent over the screen.

"One whole section is filled with information tapes, art works, and artifacts. There is a hundred times more information contained here than everything we know about the period altogether. "

"I'll bet the Survivors have long since forgotten just what it was they were guarding, " Hasti put in. "They believed the legends, just like everyone else. I wonder what did happen to the Queen of Ranroon?" Badure shrugged. "Perhaps they plunged her into the system's primary after she offloaded the treasure, or sent her off with a skeleton crew to arrange misleading sightings of her and create a false trail. Who knows?" Skynx had left the viewscreen and started a delirious dance; first on his hind limbs, then on the front ones, hopping and capering much as Han and Chewbacca had a moment before. "Marvelous! Miraculous! What a find! I'm sure to get my own chair funded-no, my own department!" Han, leaning against a wall, slowly sank to a squatting position. "Artworks, hmm?

Chewie and I can just stroll into the Imperial Museum with a bunch under our arms and start haggling, right?" He rested his forehead on his good arm. Chewbacca patted his shoulder solicitously, making mournful sounds.

Skynx gradually stopped cavorting, realizing what a disappointment all this was to the two. "There are some things of intrinsic value, Captain.

If you choose carefully, you could fill your s.h.i.+p with items you could dispose of relatively simply. There would be some profit. " He was fighting the urge to h.o.a.rd the entire find, knowing that the Millennium Falcon could bear away no more than an insignificant part of it. "Enough, I suppose, to get your s.h.i.+p repaired properly and have your wounds looked after in a first-cla.s.s medicenter."

"What about us? " Hasti interposed. "Badure and I haven't even got a stars.h.i.+p." Skynx pondered for a moment, then brightened. "I can write my own ticket with the university, an unlimited budget. How would you two like to work with me? Academic pursuits will be dull after this, I suppose, to a pair of humans. But there'd be generous pay and retirement benefits and quick promotions. We'll be years and years working on this find. I'll need someone to look after all the workers, scholars, and automata." Badure smiled and put an arm around Hasti's shoulders. She nodded. That made Skynx think of something else. "Bollux, would you and Blue Max care for positions? You'd be of great help, I'm sure. After all; you two are the only ones who interacted with the war-robots at any length. There's certain to be an effort to study their remains; we have a great deal yet to learn about their thought processes." Blue Max answered for them both. "Skynx, we'd like that a lot."

"If the locals don't march in here and take it all away from you,"

Han reminded them, as Chewbacca helped him to his feet. Seeing their concern, he added, "I guess we'll leave you a portable defensive generator and some heavy weapons and supplies out of the Falcon. That'll give us more cargo s.p.a.ce." Badure sounded uncharacteristically angry.

"Han, how gullible do you think the rest of the universe is? You always want to do the right things for the wrong reasons. Well, what will you do the day you run out of excuses, son?" Han pretended not to hear. "We'll punch through a distress call just before we make our jump out of this system. There'll be a Tion Hegemony gunboat here before you know it. Come on, Chewie; let's break out the handtruck and get the s.h.i.+p loaded before anything else happens."

"Captain," Skynx called. Han paused and looked back. "Here's a funny thing I still think this adventuring was basically just danger and hards.h.i.+p a long way from home, but now that it's ended and we're parting company, I find myself saddened."

"Look us up for a refresher course, any time," offered Han. Skynx shook his head. "I have much to do here; all too soon I'll be called away by my blood, when it's time to go chrysalis, then live a brief season as a chroma-wing. If you wish to see me then, Captain, come and look on Ruuria for the flyer whose wing markings are the same as my own banding.

The chroma-wing won't recognize you, but perhaps some part of Skynx will." Han nodded, finding no adequate way to say good-bye. Badure called, "Hey, Slick!" Han and his copilot looked to him and he laughed.

"Thanks, boys."

"Forget it. " Han dismissed the entire incident. He started off again with his sidekick, both of them moving with some pain due to their injuries. "After all, a Life-Debt's a LifeDebt, isn't it, partner? On.

this last note, he poked a knuckle into his copilot's ribs. Chewbacca swung angrily but not too quickly. Han ducked and the Wookiee backed off.

"Look," Han said, "that's it for missions of mercy, all right? We're smugglers; that's what we know and that's what we're good at and that's what we're sticking to!" The Wookiee growled concurrence. The others, surrounded by the endless shelf stacks of Xim's treasure, heard the discussion echo back from the corridor. Han broke into Chewbacca's rumblings with, "When the Falcon's repaired and this wing of mine's fixed, we're going to try another Kessel spice run." The Wookiee croaked an irritated objection. Han insisted. "It's fast money and we won't have to look at any dirt! We'll get Jabba the Hut or somebody to back us for a cut. Listen, I've got this plan . . ." Just as they were moving out of earshot, Chewbacca's protests stopped. He and Han Solo shared some joke that made both laugh slyly. Then they returned to their schemes.

"There," Badure declared to Hasti, Skynx, Bollux, and Blue Max, "go the real Survivors."

About the Author.

Brian Daley is the author of numerous works of science fiction and fantasy, including the Coramonde and the Alacrity Fitzhugh books. He also scripted the National Public Radio serial adaptations of the movies Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back, dramatic recordings for Disneyland/Buena Vista, and a number of animated TV episodes.

He has in recent years been laboring over an sf saga that's grown in the telling. Mr. Daley and his longtime companion, historical novelist Lucia St. Clair Robson, nowadays divide their time among northern New Jersey, Martha's Vineyard, and the environs of Annapolis, Maryland.