Pirate's Price Page 2

  There was only one problem with that.

  I did not seem to have my blaster anymore. I must have lost it in the Imperial garrison.

  It’s these little details that will get you into trouble, my friend, every time.

  “Who the kriff are you?” growled one of the Cloddograns as I stood pointing my empty fingers at him.

  “Who am I?” I said. “Why, it is me, Hondo Ohnaka!”

  “Never heard of you.”

  Now, I admit I was stunned by that.

  “Never heard of Hondo Ohnaka, the famous pirate? My exploits are legendary.” When that received only a blank stare, I continued. “Why, I once had a crew that was feared throughout the galaxy. I was notorious, famous, infamous. I have captured a Sith. I have fought with and against Jedi. I was a friend to Jango Fett and Obi-Wan Kenobi both. Why, my bulbous-nosed friends, you have never met anyone as interesting as I.”

  The two Cloddograns just glanced at each other and shrugged.

  I turned to the young woman. But she gave me an apologetic look, as well.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Not ringing a bell?” I asked. “Not even a tiny one? Jingle, jingle, jingle?”

  Nothing. Just blank stares. It was too much.

  “The galaxy has such a short memory.” I sighed.

  Then I reached out and grabbed each of the Cloddograns by their sticky bulbous noses, and I smashed their heads together. Smash, smash!

  “Run!” I shouted at the woman as the Cloddograns fell to the ground.

  And then we were running, the young woman and her daring rescuer.

  “Down!” she yelled, shoving me aside.

  Twin blaster bolts flew over my head. Bdew-bdew, they went. I saw the blast marks sprout on the wall like little black flowers of death, appearing centimeters from where I had been. So it seemed that she was saving me.

  And then we were running again, Hondo Ohnaka and his daring rescuer.

  Well, wasn’t that an interesting day?

  Fortunately, we were both fleet of foot. We soon outdistanced the Cloddograns. When there was no sign of our pursuers, it seemed safe to stop running. We paused in a narrow alleyway strewn with refuse from a filthy diner, and we leaned against a wall slick with swampy humidity to catch our breaths.

  “Thank you for stepping in,” she said.

  “For stepping in what?” I asked, checking my boot. You can never be sure on Galagolos. But then I realized she was thanking me for helping her, the noble way I had put myself forward.

  “You are welcome,” I said. “But you were doing quite well yourself. You must have some training in the martial arts. It is hard to fight a species with so many arms. Thankfully, they do not have so many legs, or we might not be as fortunate to have outrun them.” She gave a little laugh, and I asked, “But why were they bothering you?”

  Something haunted passed across her face then, but she shook her head and said, “Probably they just wanted credits.”

  “Credits,” I said, my ears pricking up. “Do you have credits?”

  The suspicion in her eyes wounded me, so I let it go.

  “I am sorry. I was just making conversation. Permit me to introduce myself. I am Hondo Ohnaka.”

  “The famous pirate,” she finished for me.

  “So you have heard of me after all?” I said, brightening.

  “No,” she said, taking the wind out of my solar sails. “I’m just repeating what you said.”

  “What I said, yes.” I sighed.

  As we talked, we began to walk, heading back toward the docking bays.

  “Forgive me for asking,” she said, “but why would a pirate come to my assistance? Isn’t that a little noble for a buccaneer?”

  “But a pirate is noble,” I replied. “At least when he wants to be. Have you not heard of a pirate’s honor? It is a wonderful thing. Like the honor of thieves. And anyway, Hondo has always had a soft spot for the underdog.”

  As we moved through the streets of the spaceport, I saw the stormtroopers again, and I got nervous. But my hunch was correct. The bucketheads walked right past me without giving me a moment’s thought. They were looking for a desperate fugitive, not a dashing man walking and talking with a young woman like they were old friends. My deception had worked!

  We got to the docking bay, and I remembered I was there for a new ship. It was time to part company.

  I turned to take my leave of the woman, but she was looking at me searchingly with her deep intelligent eyes.

  “But you are a pirate, aren’t you?” she asked. “And you knew how to handle the Cloddograns. So maybe you can help me with something else. I’m looking for a specific ship. It’s very important that I find it quickly. If you could accompany me…I might have a need for someone like you.”

  “Have need of me?” I said. “Hondo is not a lackey. Were you not listening? I once ran the famous Ohnaka Gang. I am not just some piece of hired muscle.”

  “I thought you had a soft spot for underdogs,” she said.

  “It is not that soft,” I said. “I am very sorry, my dear, but one rescue is enough, and I have my own problems. I have engaged in quite enough heroics for today.”

  “What about your pirate’s honor?” she said.

  I snorted. “That is the wonderful thing about a pirate’s honor. Conveniently, it turns on and off as needed. Turn on, turn off. Turn on, turn off. This morning I am honorable. This afternoon I am a scoundrel. And I think I am ready to be a scoundrel again.”

  And then I left her there, looking surprised and maybe a little stung. And I went off on my own once more.

  Did I feel bad about it? Perhaps. But I confess I was still grouchy that no one there had heard of me. Me—the leader of the once-feared Ohnaka Gang. Me—the pirate who once held Count Dooku, Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Anakin Skywalker hostage all at the same time! And stayed friends with two of them! In fact, I once kidnapped Ahsoka Tano and her six Jedi younglings, and then I rescued Ahsoka Tano and her six Jedi younglings from another kidnapping all in the same week. Come to think of it, for a notorious pirate, I sure helped the good guys out of tough times on many occasions. And I only caused one or two of those occasions myself. I even fought in the Liberation of Lothal. Now that I mention it, I’m still waiting on payment for some of my services. Plus, I’m the only one in the galaxy who ever found the lost treasure of Kanata’s castle. All that, and the young lady didn’t know who I was! How could the galaxy forget so much?

  Now, this may come as a surprise, because I am always such an upbeat guy, jolly Hondo, but being alone on a strange planet and not being recognized made me feel something.

  It had been some time since I parted ways with my fellow Weequay. I had lost my pirate empire. I had lost my wonderful base on Florrum. I had even lost dear Pikk Mukmuk, my Kowakian monkey-lizard. Let me tell you, you never truly appreciate a monkey-lizard until it is gone. And I should know. I’ve lost a few.

  So I was adrift. I had been going it alone, by myself, making my way as a small-time pirate where once I was the scourge of the galaxy. Oh, how far the mighty had fallen! There was a hole in my heart that needed to be filled. And it would not be filled by being that young woman’s goon. No, I needed a ship, the kind of ship I could use to get a new crew. Then I would be back on top! Then I would make the galaxy remember me again!

  So I went to the docking bays, and I began to look for the perfect vessel to fly me away from that swampy, stinky planet.

  The first ship I found was too small. The next ship was too big. I needed a ship that was just right.

  And there, in the third bay, was the most magnificent ship ever!

  But it was heavily guarded, so I went to the fourth bay.

  And there she was.

  At a glance, she looked like any other YT-1300 Corellian freighter. Not too special right? But then I saw there was something different about her. She had been altered in several ways, and I had a pirate’s hunch—a feeling, if you will—that there was more under
the access panels that was not showing.

  You know the ship I mean? It is not hard to guess. Of course, at the time I did not yet know its name, but it was the Millennium Falcon. And I must say, my old heart began to go pitter-pat, pitter-pat, pitter-pat. And I felt the hole in my soul—the big, gaping hole. I knew then it was a ship-sized hole. Because with the right vessel, a person can do anything. And if that person happens to be Hondo Ohnaka, why then he can do anything else, too! And that—that was the right vessel.

  Well, there was only one thing to do in response to such sublime grandeur. I, Hondo Ohnaka, would have to steal the ship for myself.

  The boarding ramp was, of course, closed. But I am somewhat more experienced than most in the matter of, ahem, shall we say liberating starships from their former owners. And so I know little tricks you may not be aware of. For instance, few people know that there is a small access hatch adjacent to the boarding ramp on the YT-1300 light freighter. And I was going to make use of it.

  The Hondo Ohnaka Method of Starship Liberation involves some wiggle and some waggle.

  First the wiggle. I reached into my pocket, and I pulled out a small but very valuable pouch. With such a pouch, a pirate can make himself welcome anywhere. You see, it contained a selection of key bypasses of various sizes. And a key bypass is a very useful tool. I selected a long one. This I slipped into the seam of the access hatch—and with a wiggle of my fingers—I quickly used it to slice through the lock.

  Then it was time for the waggle.

  Making sure I was unobserved, I hoisted myself into the hatch. It was tight going, but I didn’t have to go very far in—just far enough that I could reach the ship’s computer systems. Then from the pouch I took another device—a data spike. Most people would use the data spike to try to override the ship’s defenses. Sure, if you want to do it the most pedestrian way. But I am Hondo Ohnaka. I did not try to override the ship’s systems. No, I tried to make the ship like me. So I put all the great things about Hondo Ohnaka into the ship’s memory, and I told it how much fun it would be to let me in. That was the waggle. And to my satisfaction, I heard the pop of compressed air releasing and the welcome vvvvmmp noise of the boarding ramp lowering for me.

  And so soon I was in the cockpit. Right away, I began to input the prelaunch sequences. My fingers itched to take the control wheel.

  But despite bypassing the security and sweet-talking the computer, I found the controls were temperamental, the programming of the ship’s computer unorthodox. It was almost as if the ship was still reluctant to let me take her. Still, some of the modifications were most impressive. It was just going to take some getting used to on both our parts. But I suspected it would pay off, and fortunately, I would have all the time in the galaxy. Or so I thought.

  I heard the babble-babble of voices. They were coming up the boarding ramp. That was most unfortunate. The previous owners of the ship had returned before I had finished stealing it.

  I realized then that I should have raised the ramp first thing.

  It’s these little details that will get you into trouble, every time.

  “Think fast, Hondo,” I told myself. I did one more thing to the ship’s controls, a kind of insurance policy for later, and then I looked around for a place to hide.

  “Arrrrgooooroooo!”

  Something very large and very irritated was making a growling, groaning noise.

  “Well, I don’t like the smell of this muck ball any more than you do, Chewie,” someone else answered. “But we’ll be leaving just as soon as our passenger gets settled.”

  And then I heard their footsteps going to the cockpit.

  I wondered what a Chewie was. It sounded like something to eat. But alas, I could not wait around to find out. I needed off that ship, and fast. So I started to emerge from my hiding spot and make my exit, but then I heard a third person coming up the corridor. Obviously, it was the passenger who had hired the ship.

  And then—oh, no—there was the vvvvvmp-vvvvvmp of the boarding ramp rising, and the zzzzzvoooooom of the ship’s engines powering up.

  We were taking off. I had no way out without being seen.

  I was trapped.

  And just like that, I, Hondo Ohnaka, went from being a famous pirate to a mere stowaway.

  Well, wherever we were going in that magnificent modified freighter, I hoped it was someplace interesting.

  Well, we were off in no time, zipping through space going who knew where. What an adventure it was. But so far, I did not see a way to make a profit. In fact, if I wasn’t careful, there was a good chance I might find myself tossed out an airlock. And that, my friend, was not an experience I was keen to have.

  I mentioned that the ship had been modified quite extensively. Fortunately for me, one of the many changes was that she was riddled with hidden compartments. Doubtless they were meant for smuggling contraband, but now I was smuggling myself in them. Never let it be said that I don’t appreciate irony!

  And please do not insult me by asking how I, Hondo Ohnaka, greatest pirate in the galaxy, was able to find these compartments if they were hidden. Come now, there is not a trick in the book I have not tried myself. I know a hidden compartment when I see one. Or rather, when I don’t see one, if you catch my meaning.

  So I stayed quiet, and hidden, and I used my ears to find out what I could. And I peeked through the tiny cracks in my hidden spot. For a bit I didn’t see anything or hear very much, just the routine conversations coming from the cockpit. “Velocity indicator” this and “acceleration compensator” that. “What’s that warning light doing, Chewie?” “Grrrarrrbrrrr.” That sort of thing. Blah, blah, blah.

  But once the course was laid in and the ship was on its merry way, its pilots began to move around. It seemed there were only two of them, plus their passenger. Perhaps if I needed to, and I had the element of surprise, I might be able to overpower them and take control of the vessel for myself. It is good to keep your options open.

  “All right, lady,” said a man. “We’ve cleared the atmosphere. So now, how about you tell us what’s so important about the third moon of Dhandu that you’re willing to pay ten thousand just to leave right away?”

  Ten thousand for a ride. That was a grossly inflated price for a relatively short trip. Whoever the pilot was, he was ripping off his passenger. I admired him instantly.

  Also, now I knew that we were going to the third moon of Dhandu, and very rapidly. That was interesting. As my sweet mother once told me, “Hondo, someone else’s urgency is your opportunity.” Perhaps I could find a way to profit yet from that day.

  So I settled in to listen carefully.

  “Dhandu’s third moon is just the first stop,” said someone else. The voice was that of a young woman. And it was very familiar. I began to suspect that I had heard it before, just a little while before. Destiny sometimes throws the strangest things our way, does she not?

  “What do you mean ‘first stop’?” asked the man. And he didn’t seem too happy about it. But then, he had not seemed happy about anything since I first heard him board the ship. He was kind of a grumpy guy. “Now look here, lady, you only paid me enough for one flight.”

  Actually, she had paid enough for three. Oh, how I admired him.

  “I don’t have any more credits,” the woman said, and I felt my interest in the conversation dipping. “But if you listen to what I have to say, I can promise you a whole lot more than just ten thousand.”

  Suddenly, my interest was back. And growing.

  “I don’t know about this,” said the man. “I don’t like jobs that change the terms after we’re underway.”

  “If you’ll just hear me out,” said the woman. “To begin with, my name is Mahjo Reeloo. And my business, let’s just say I’m a fellow scoundrel like yourselves.”

  “What makes you think we’re scoundrels?”

  “Mostly the reputations you’ve been spreading yourselves,” said Mahjo.

  “Hrrruh, hrrruh, hrrruh.�
� Laughter from the Chewie.

  “Yeah, yeah, yuck it up,” the man replied. Then to the woman he said, “Go on.”

  “Well, the truth is that I’m after a huge score.”

  “How huge?” said the man. Straight and to the point. A scoundrel after my own heart.

  “Huge,” Mahjo said. “Bigger than huge. A collection of Novian rubies being kept in a safety-deposit box in a shielded vault on Gwongdeen.”

  Now that was interesting. Novian rubies. They are very rare, very valuable. In fact, no one had seen any Novian rubies in over thirty years. The pirate who could steal them would have quite a prize indeed.

  But the man wasn’t having it.

  “Well, that’s it, we’re out,” he said in his gruff voice.

  “No, wait,” began the woman.

  “Lady,” he interrupted, “everyone knows the Undervaults of Gwongdeen are impregnable. You can’t break in there. It’s impossible. I knew whatever you were going to say was too good to be true.”

  “They’re impregnable, yes,” said Mahjo. “But they’re easy to get into if you have a key.”

  There was a pause, during which I could almost hear wheels turning in the man’s mind.

  “And you have the key?” he asked.

  “That’s why we’re going to the third moon of Dhandu,” Mahjo explained. “Because the owner of the safety-deposit box is on the moon right now.”

  “Well, isn’t that great. I suppose he’s going to just give it to you?”

  “Well, no,” said Mahjo. “I thought we’d steal it from him.”

  “‘We,’ huh?” said the man. “Sorry, lady, you hired me to be your pilot, not your thief or smuggler. I’ll take you as far as the moon, but then you’re getting off.”

  “I assumed you’d jump at the chance,” she said. “Isn’t this the sort of thing you do all the time?”

  “I like jobs where I get paid up front. And passengers who are straight with me. Picking heists that have no hope of being pulled off isn’t my idea of a good time.”

  “But I have to get inside that deposit box! I have to! Please.”