While the two women argued heatedly, Su Ming had already figured out the underground base's systems with Adjutant's help.
He still couldn't read the symbols on any of the screens—they were probably some kind of writing—but he only needed to know how to use the system.
He opened the hall door without trouble. A rotten smell drifted from somewhere in the corridor. It was pitch-black outside, and neither passage revealed where it led.
"Sorry to interrupt you two, but it looks like you won't be becoming girlfriends. I have a compromise." Su Ming leaned against the doorframe with an arm around Harley and beckoned Aphra and Leia over. "Once the princess is rescued, she gives our little doctor a medal. Then Aphra sells it to Han Solo. Everybody wins."
"Han Solo isn't an idiot. Why would he pay tens of thousands of Credit Points for a piece of plastic?"
Aphra crumpled the contract into a ball and tossed it aside. Taking the princess's hand again, she walked toward Deathstroke. The prospect of profit seemed to have made her much bolder. She even dared to criticize his plan.
But she had missed the crucial point, and Su Ming didn't hold it against her.
"That depends on what's engraved on the medal. If it says 'Combat Hero of the Rebel Alliance,' it won't be worth a cent."
Deathstroke gave a dark smile. As Strangle chose a direction with signs of life, he started walking and said:
"But engrave 'To the one I love most' on it and add a lipstick kiss. Think Han Solo wouldn't get down on his knees and beg you to sell it to him? He'd be terrified you'd turn the princess away from men."
"Ahem. So that's where the value comes from. I get it." Aphra seemed to