Star Wars - A Bitter Winter by Patricia A. Jackson

Author:Patricia A. Jackson [Jackson, Patricia A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 1995-02-03T03:24:20+00:00

Frightened by unknown injuries, Drake winced, making no attempts to move. Testing each limb, he was satisfied that there was no permanent damage and struggled to sit up.

“Drake?”

“Toob!” he gasped, recoiling as the sound of his own voice exploded within his skull.

“Who taught you how to ride, boy?”

“You did,” Drake grumbled. “Remember, you bought me a dewback from Tatooine.”

The Corellian chuckled with the memory. “Well aren’t you a sight.” He helped the boy to his feet. “Nothing broken?”

“No,” Drake pouted, then curtly, he demanded, “Do you mind telling me what that was all about?”

“Gunfight,” Toob huffed, pulling the saddle bags from the olai’s body.

“A gunfight? With Imperial troops?”

“Well, I didn’t start it!” the smugger defended, grinning mischievously. “But I did intend to finish it. What the … whoa!”

Abruptly, the olai stirred, violently lurching to her feet. Broken in the fall, her front legs collapsed under her at a peculiar angle and she fell, sprawling to the clay floor. Blood trickled from her mouth and ears, as a mixture of fluids seeped from her nose. Blowing and grunting in agony, she again struggled to her feet, succeeding by standing on her hind legs. Desperate and exhausted, she flopped back down to the ground and roared unsteadily. Whinnying pitifully, she stared at her Human handlers, pleading for support.

“There now, old girl.” Toob crooned softly. “Drake?”

Through a dark tangle of brown bangs, Drake stared past the mare into the shadows beyond her. Hesitating, he thumbed the restraint from his blaster and cocked the pistol against its holster. “Go on, Drake, don’t let her suffer,” he heard Toob’s soft voice against the wind. Taking strength from the familiar handle, he drew the blaster and fired, killing the mare instantly. Twitching briefly, her contorted limbs ceased their struggles — she was still.

Turning his back on the corpse, Toob rasped, “Might want to call your Wookiee partner and let her know we’re coming.”

“Can’t,” Drake replied in a meek voice. “Comlink’s busted. Remember that fall up the mountain?”

Toob’s ruined face mustered a look of confusion. “We did?”

“You don’t remember?”

Shrugging it off, Toob started down the trail. “Doesn’t matter now. Let’s get back to the ship. I think we both could use a good stiff drink right now.”

Troubled, Drake fell in behind the smuggler, following the starlit trail. “You know, Toob,” he began gingerly, “being retired and all, you might want to consider slowing down. Maybe find yourself a few decent friends.”

Without turning to look, Toob grumbled, “What? Just because I have one good eye and a few extra pounds, I have to take up farming?”

“Well no, but you have to admit, that little stunt up the mountain could have been fatal.”

“You’re starting to sound like my brother — careful, calculating …dull.”

“It wouldn’t hurt for you to take a few lessons.” Drake hesitated, then he added, “If you had listened to him, you would never have gone to that warehouse on Ottega.”

Toob halted abruptly, growling, “Karl went because he wanted to! No one asked him to go!”

“What was he supposed to do.

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