“And which side have you chosen?” Tenel Ka said. “Which army do you support?”
“Oh, I couldn’t take s-sides in a civil war,” Lilmit said. “That would be unfair. I supply everybody. L-l-let them work it out. That’s my creed.”
Anja flared with anger, barely able to keep herself from cleaving the smuggler in two with her lightsaber. “You supply the enemy and our side? You sell to both equally?”
“Wait a minute,” Jaina said. “Which one is ‘our’ side? We’re just going there to investigate.”
Anja didn’t hear her. She turned to Han Solo. “If you really pride yourself in being a high-and-mighty representative of the New Republic, you cannot let him deliver these weapons. Think of how many people these munitions will kill… how much more blood will be on your hands.”
Han drew himself up. “Anja’s right. We’re going to have to confiscate your cargo, Lilmit.”
“You c-can’t do that!” the smuggler wailed. “I’ve got m-mouths to feed—an entire litter of offspring back at Ord Mantell. You’d put them out into the streets! I’ll f-file a complaint!”
“I happen to know it doesn’t cost much more to get a license permanently canceled than it costs to buy one in the first place.”
Han’s gaze didn’t waver. “And in your case, I’d consider the credits well spent. You might want to try a more reputable line of business.”
Han gestured to Lowie, who helped him lift a large crate of burrowing detonators and set it in the center of the cargo floor, just above an irising space hatch. “Let’s pile these other crates on top,” Han said.
Zekk, Tenel Ka, and the twins used the Force to help, while Anakin did his best to be of assistance in directing their efforts. Anja remained where she was, her lightsaber still drawn as if daring Lilmit to argue with them.
“I’ll report you to the authorities on Ord Mantell,” the smuggler whined. “Y-you say you’re confiscating my cargo, but you’ll probably fence it yourself, s-s-sell it on the black market.”
“Hey, not a chance,” Jacen said.
Han Solo opened up a crate and removed one of the powerful detonators.
After setting its timer, he placed it back in the box and sealed it.
They locked all of the cargo crates together magnetically and coded the locks to a single control. After Anakin scrambled the coded combination for him, Han stood back. “I think we’d better leave our friend Lilmit alone so he can jettison his crates.”
“B-b-but there’s a fortune tied up in those weapons!” the little man said. He waved his webbed hands as his eyebrows flew upward like flames to his wrinkled scalp.
Han drew his blaster and pointed toward the crate with the timer ticking down. “If I were you, I’d get rid of the cargo, Lilmit. If you don’t your ship’ll become the newest, brightest little star in this part of the galaxy. I can’t make that choice for you, but I’m not going to wait around to see what you do.” He gestured, and the young Jedi Knights hurried after him to the Millennium Falcon’s docking port.
Lilmit wailed, “B-but I’ll never get that open in time! How m-much time did you set the countdown for?”
“Oh, a minute… maybe two. Can’t remember exactly.”
The smuggler ran to the crate, pounded on its side. “I can’t g-get it open!”
“I suggest you jettison your cargo without delay,” Tenel Ka said.
Lowbacca added his growl of affirmation.
The companions scrambled back into the Falcon. Han headed straight for the pilot’s seat and strapped himself in while Jaina released the magnetic docking connection. They split away from the smaller cargo hauler and drifted off to a safe distance.
“How long does he have, Dad?” Jaina asked.
“Plenty of time,” Han said. “I think.”
Finally they saw a cluster of glittering objects pop out from the bottom of the smuggler’s ship. Lilmit’s sublight engines kicked in, and he streaked away only moments before the jettisoned cargo containers erupted into a white-hot ball of light.
“Looks like he made the right decision,” Jacen said.
“This is a fact,” Tenel Ka agreed.
“Not bad, Solo,” Anja said. “Your method was crude, but it’s good to know you occasionally do make the right decision.”
Aboard his small ship, Lilmit swung between despair and outrage. He had just lost a huge profit. It would have paid for his long-awaited vacation on Tatooine. For years he had scrimped and saved so that he could fly out under the double suns, soak up warmth from the glittering sands, enjoy the wild nightlife in Mos Eisley. Now those dreams and plans were trashed.
With trembling fingers he opened a special private comm signal. It was time to express his anger to the people in charge. Perhaps they could do something about this marauder, this space pirate named Han Solo.
Lilmit clenched a fist, trying to control his anger.
The image of Czethros appeared on the screen. The angry-faced leader appeared greatly annoyed that Lilmit had bothered him. His red laser eye burned bright behind his metal visor.
“You m-must do something about Han Solo!” the smuggler blurted, leaning so close that his flat nose nearly touched the viewplate. “He and a group of kids just boarded my ship en route to Anobis. They confiscated my cargo and forced me to destroy all the weapons.”
“Really?” Czethros said. “You didn’t mention my name, did you? I don’t want Anja to know that Black Sun is involved in her own little war.”
“Of course I kept m-m-my mouth shut,” Lilmit said. “But what am I supposed to do n-now?”
“Obviously, you’ll have to make up for these losses.”
“D-don’t you think I know that?” Lilmit said. “But I want you to make Solo p-p-pay for this—in blood. I work hard, I pay my protection money, and I do whatever you ask. Now it’s time for Black Sun to do something for me. K-keep the spacelanes to Anobis safe for us gun runners.” Czethros laughed, but the laser-red eye in his visor did not waver. “You can’t order me around, Lilmit. You’re no one, a mere underling who drives a craft and delivers boxes.”
Lilmit trembled, knowing he had overstepped his bounds in talking to Czethros that way. One didn’t make an enemy of the powerful crime organization without paying a steep price. Thanks to the efforts of Czethros, Black Sun’s tentacles now reached into every known business in this part of the galaxy.
Then Czethros did smile; it appeared to be a genuine smile, or perhaps the man was a much better actor than Lilmit thought. “It just so happens, though, that your wishes exactly parallel mine with regard to Solo. Sort of a personal grudge of mine. Don’t worry about it for now.”
“But how will I g-get restitution?” Lilmit stuttered. “Someone has to p-pay for my lost cargo.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Czethros said. “You do. You allowed yourself to be boarded. You didn’t deal with the situation properly, and you lost the weapons. It comes out of your account.”
Lilmit swallowed hard. He knew of no way he could escape his obligation now.
Czethros laughed. “If it’s any consolation, Solo is walking right into he civil war on Anobis. He seems to think he can make everything better, but I’ve got about a thousand different ways to make sure he never leaves that planet alive.”
“Well,” Lilmit mumbled. “That’s one thing to look forward to at least.” Slumping deep into his pilot chair, he switched off the communications channel, then called up his credit records and banking tables in an attempt to figure out how he could possibly pay for the lost merchandise.
12
From the corner of her eye, sitting in the Falcon’s copilot’s seat, Jaina observed the change in Anja’s demeanor after the run-in with the weapons smuggler. It seemed the thin, angry girl had gained a small measure of respect for Han Solo, though it was clear she still carried an enormous chip on her shoulder.