The Paradise Snare: Star Wars Legends (The Han Solo Trilogy) (Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy Book 1) by A. C. Crispin

Author:A. C. Crispin [Crispin, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2011-06-28T00:00:00+00:00

Han awakened to the sound of soft, muffled sobbing. He had been sleeping on the floor in Teroenza’s living area, on a pile of expensive carpets he’d dragged into place. He’d insisted that Bria take the one human-style bed. Since Mrrov had been the only one who’d gotten any rest the previous night, she’d volunteered to doze in the pilot’s seat and keep an eye out for alarms—though now that they’d reached hyperspace, there wasn’t much that could go wrong.

Han sat up with a groan, feeling stiff. Yesterday had been a hard day, and he now remembered, belatedly, that he hadn’t eaten anything. Thirst was even worse than hunger. Climbing to his feet, he staggered over to the room’s water dispenser and drank several cups.

As he did so, his hand brushed his face, and he frowned as he touched his chin and felt thick, generous stubble. He had forgotten to shave since before they’d landed on Nal Hutta.

The sounds of human sobbing had stopped. Han grabbed his clothes and went into the luxurious refresher unit, glad that it contained appointments for almost all types of species. He even managed to find a shaver.

Minutes later, clothed and feeling considerably better, he went in search of Bria.

He found her in the tiny guard’s room, sitting up on the little bunk, arms around her knees, her face pressed against them. “Hey …” Han whispered. “What’s wrong? What’s happened?”

She didn’t raise her face, just waved him away. “No … please, just … let me … alone. I’ll be … all right. I don’t want you … to see me like this.” She sniffled. “I look … terrible.”

Han sat down beside her, but didn’t touch her. “I look terrible, too,” he said. “We could all do with a change of clothes. Hey …” he joked, trying to make her look at him, “at least I got rid of the beard. That’s a big improvement.”

She raised her head and gave him a watery smile. Her nose and eyes were red, but she still looked lovely to Han. “You did look kind of … scruffy … last night.”

Han drew himself up, pretending to take umbrage. “Scruffy? Me? Never!” He slid an arm around her gently. “Bria, honey … what’s wrong? Tell me.”

She began to shudder. “It’s the Exultation, Han. I woke up and realized that the pilgrims are gathering for devotions right now. And I realized I’ll never have it again—never feel that good again!”

Han didn’t know what to say. He realized that Bria was missing the physical and emotional sensations that accompanied the Exultation just as an addict would miss a dose of his or her drug of choice. The realization scared him. Would Bria be able to fight this dependency and win? Or would she go through life mourning what she’d lost?

“I think that’s natural,” he said cautiously, not wanting to frighten her by voicing his real thoughts. “Of course you’d miss it for a day or so, maybe a week. But we’ll all help you through it, honey.

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