Star Wars: Shadow Games Read Online Free Page B

Okay?”
    Dash considered the number of empty glasses on the tabletop. “Not like now, huh?”
    “No, I’m not drunk. Yet. But give me some time and I’ll manage.”
    Frowning, Dash sidled into the booth and sat down. “What’s up? And where’s Chewie?” An uneasy thought made him sit up straighter. “Nothing’s happened to Chewie?”
    Han waved a dismissive hand. “Not unless you consider fatherhood something. He’s back on Kashyyyk with Malla and their new baby boy.”
    “Yeah? What’d they name the kid?”
    “Lumpawarrump,” said Han with some difficulty.
    “Lumpa … Lumpa—?”
    “Yeah, that’s usually as far as I get, too.”
    “So Chewbacca’s home with the family and you’re hanging out at Chal’s drinking yourself under a table?”
    Han gave him a fierce look. “I’m relash—relaxing.”
    “Is that what you humans call it? I had wondered.” Eaden Vrill stood in the cubicle doorway, thumbs tucked into his weapons belt.
    Han smiled broadly. “Vrill, old buddy! Good to see you. Still hanging around with losers, I see.”
    “So it would seem.” Eaden tilted his head toward Dash. “Luck?”
    “None … unless …” Dash regarded Han speculatively. When Solo was this cocky, it usually meant he’d scored some profits. If that were the case, maybe he could be induced to part with a few. Maybe just enough for Dash to complete repairs on
Outrider
and avoid having to hire another ship.
    “Luck with what?” asked Han.
    “I don’t suppose you could see your way clear to lend me a few credits, old friend.”
    Han poked a finger into his right ear and wiggled it. “Wait a minute, I can’t have heard that right. You’re asking me for a favor? No—better yet—you’re asking me for money? Oh,
that’s
rich.”
    Dash grabbed hold of his temper with both hands. “Can we be serious for just a moment? The
Outrider
is out of commission and I’ve got a whole lot of cargo sitting in the hold needing pretty desperately to get to Nal Hutta.”
    “Huh. What’s wrong with the old boat?”
    “Blown hyperdrives.”
    “Both of ’em? How’d you manage that?”
    “We ran into Imperials on the Kessel Run. Almost got blasted out of space, then almost ran into a planetoid, then almost got sucked into the Maw. We fried our primary and secondary drives getting out again.”
    Han sat up straighter and leaned toward Dash across the table. “You’re messing with my head.” He glanced up at Eaden. “Isn’t he? He’s joking, right?”
    “If only. We nearly perished.”
    Han leaned back in his seat again, taking a slug of his drink. “I guess you’re lucky to be here then, aren’t you?”
    “Sure. Except that I’ve got a ship that can’t fly and a cargo to get to Nal Hutta with no way to get it there.” Dash leaned forward, elbows on the table, trying to look earnest. His mom had always fallen for his earnest look. “I just need enough to get the drive up and running …”
    “Even at Kerlew’s best prices that’s gonna come to quite a pile of credits. More than I’ve got. You think I’d be sittin’ here if I had a commishun—com
-miss
-ion?”
    Unfortunately, Dash’s mom was unique.
    “Just a few credits to—”
    Eaden made a sound like steam venting, then said, “If I may: We have a cargo. Han has a ship. The purchaserhas the credits we need so that
we
can have a ship. Again.”
    Dash looked at Han. Han looked at Dash. It fried Dash’s circuits to have to hire Han Solo, of all the people in the galaxy, to take his load to Nal Hutta, but—
    Han’s slow smile was crooked. “Sounds like you need me.”
    Dash came to his feet fast enough to reach orbit. “Forget it! I don’t need—” He felt a heavy hand fall on his shoulder.
    “Pride rises before disaster falls,” said the Nautolan philosophically. Then he addressed Solo. “What percentage would you charge to take a full hold to Nal Hutta … and a few items to Nar Shaddaa as well?”
    Han considered. “Forty