Star Wars / Star Wars, Outbound Flight

1

The light freighter Bargain Hunter moved through space, silver-gray against the blackness, the light of the distant stars reflecting from its hull. Its running lights were muted, its navigational beacons quiet, its viewports for the most part as dark as the space around it.

Its drive gunning for all it was worth.

Hang on! Dubrak Qennto barked over the straining roar of the engines. Here he comes again!

Clenching his teeth firmly together to keep them from chattering, Jorj Car das got a grip on his seat s armrest with one hand as he finished punching coordinates into the nav computer with the other. Just in time; the Bargain Hunter jinked hard to the left as a pair of brilliant green blaster bolts burned past the bridge canopy. Car das? Qennto called. Snap it up, kid.

I m snapping, I m snapping, Car das called back, resisting the urge to point out that the outmoded nav equipment was Qennto s property, not his. As was the lack of diplomacy and common sense that had gotten them into this mess in the first place. Can t we just talk to them?

Terrific idea, Qennto bit out. Be sure to compliment Progga on his fairness and sound business sense. That always works on Hutts.

The last word was punctuated by another cluster of blaster shots, this group closer than the last. Rak, the engines can t hold this speed forever, Maris Ferasi warned from the copilot s seat, her dark hair flashing with green highlights every time a shot went past.

Doesn t have to be forever, Qennto said with a grunt. Just till we have some numbers. Car das?

On Car das s board a light winked on. Ready, he called, punching the numbers over to the pilot s station. It s not a very long jump, though

He was cut off by a screech from somewhere aft, and the flashing blaster bolts were replaced by flashing starlines as the Bargain Hunter shot into hyperspace.

Car das took a deep breath, let it out silently. This is not what I signed up for, he muttered to

Timothy Zahn