会计考友 发表于 2012-8-15 00:26:22

商业托福阅读:星球大战第七章(1)

  Luke and Ben were securing Artoo Detoo in the back of the speeder while Threepio kept a lookout for any additional troops.
  "If Solo’s ship is as fast as his boasting, we should be all right," the old man observed with satisfaction.
  "But two thousand—and fifteen more when we reach Alderaan!" "It’s not the fifteen that worries me; it’s the first two," Kenobi explained. "I’m afraid you’ll have to sell your speeder." Luke let his gaze rove over the landspeeder, but the thrill it had once given him was gone—gone along with other things best not dwelt on.
  "It’s all right," he assured Kenobi listlessly. "I don’t think I’ll need it again." From their vantage point in another booth, Solo and Chewbacca watched as the Imperials strode through the bar. Two of them gave the Corellian a lingering glance.
  Chewbacca growled once and the two soldiers hurried their pace somewhat.
  Solo grinned sardonically, turning to his partner. "Chewie, this charter could save our necks. Seventeen thousand!" he shook his head in amazement. "Those two must really be desperate. I wonder what they’re wanted for. But I agreed, no questions. They’re paying enough for it. Let’s get going—the Falcon won’t check itself out." "Going somewhere, Solo?" the Corellian couldn’t identify the voice, coming as it did through an electronic translator. But there was no problem recognizing the speaker or the gun it held stuck in Solo’s side.
  The creature was roughly man-sized and bipedal, but its head was something out of delirium by way of an upset stomach. It had huge, dull-faceted eyes, bulbous on a pea-green face. A ridge of short spines crested the high skull, while nostrils and mouth were contained in a tapir-like snout.
  "As a matter of fact," Solo replied slowly, "I was just on my way to see your boss. You can tell Jabba I’ve got the money I owe him." "That’s what you said yesterday—and last week—and the week prior to that.

会计考友 发表于 2012-8-15 00:26:23

商业托福阅读:星球大战第七章(1)

</p>  It’s too late, Solo. I’m not going back to Jabba with another one of your stories." "But I’ve really got the money this time!" Solo protested.
  "Fine. I’ll take it now, please." Solo sat down slowly. Jabba’s minions were apt to be cursed with nervous trigger fingers. The alien took the seat across from him, the muzzle of the ugly little pistol never straying from Solo’s chest.
  "I haven’t got it here with me. Tell Jabba—" "It’s too late, I think. Jabba would rather have your ship." "Over my dead body," Solo said unamiably.
  The alien was not impressed. "If you insist. Will you come outside with me, or must I finish it here?" "I don’t think they’d like another killing in here," Solo pointed out.
  Something which might have been a laugh came from the creature’s translator.
  "They’d hardly notice. Get up, Solo. I’ve been looking forward to this for a long time. You’ve embarrassed me in front of Jabba with your pious excuses for the last time." "I think you’re right." Light and noise filled the little corner of the cantina, and when it had faded, all that remained of the unctuous alien was a smoking, slimy spot on the stone floor.
  Solo brought his hand and the smoking weapon it held out from beneath the table, drawing bemused stares from several of the cantina’s patrons and clucking sounds from its more knowledgeable ones. They had known the creature had committed its fatal mistake in allowing Solo the chance to get his hands under cover.
  "It’ll take a lot more than the likes of you to finish me off. Jabba the Hut always did skimp when it came to hiring his hands.
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