by Steve Perry
Leia shook her head. “Not much good at all,” she said. “But if we can get to whoever sent her, maybe that does. She’s got to be worth a lot to them.”
Chewie moaned something.
“Chewbacca says that if you go to Coruscant, he is going as well.”
Leia glared at Threepio.
“Don’t blame me, I’m only translating what he said.”
“Fine, you can go with me. Lando, you and Dash wait here for Luke. We’ll take Guri with us. Whoever or whatever she is, she’s our pass.”
“How are you going to get there?” Dash asked. “Book a compartment on a liner? They check those things going into Coruscant, you know.”
“I’ll contact the Alliance and have them supply us with a small ship.”
“I don’t like it,” Lando said.
“Why not just take her ship?” Dash asked. “It’s bound to be cleared.”
“And maybe blow ourselves to tiny pieces? We’ve already determined she’s not the most trustworthy being we’ve ever met. Could somebody steal your ship?”
Dash laughed. “They wouldn’t get very far if they tried.”
“I still don’t like it,” Lando said.
“I’m not asking you to like it, I’m telling you to do it.”
Which pretty much ended that conversation.
Leia tried to sound as if she were in charge and as if she knew exactly what she was doing, but that was a stretch. If Guri was a replica droid, surely she must be valuable to whomever had sent her. Maybe that person would be willing to talk to get her back. Conventional wisdom had it that the best plans were usually the simplest ones, and if that was true, this was a great idea.
Conventional wisdom aside, it wasn’t much; still, it was what she had, and she would follow it up as best she could.
“Excuse me,” Guri said.
Leia turned to look at her. “What?”
“There is an easier way.”
Leia stared at her, then at the others. “What are you talking about?”
“You want to go to Imperial Center and meet with the leadership of Black Sun, correct?”
“That was the general idea.”
“That is why I was sent—to provide you escort for such a trip.”
“Then why the threats?”
“It was the fastest way.”
“I wouldn’t trust her, Leia,” Lando said.
“I don’t, but I’m reasonable. Go on.”
“It will be very risky for you to try to sneak past the Imperial pickets around Imperial Center. I can greatly lessen that risk.”
“No offense, but Lando is right. Why should we trust you?”
“Because I work for Prince Xizor.”
Lando and Dash both inhaled sharply.
Leia looked at them.
“Xizor is the head of Black Sun,” Dash said.
“I can arrange for you to speak with him, if you like.”
Leia frowned. “He’s here?”
“I have his private comlink codes.”
“I don’t like this,” Lando said. He waved the blaster.
Lando didn’t much like anything lately.
Chewie growled and harned.
Neither did Chewie like it.
“You are wanted by the Empire, as are your companions. I can arrange disguises, get you past customs and straight to the prince,” Guri said. “It would eliminate much of the risk.”
Leia sighed. It sounded reasonable, despite Guri’s attempt to capture her.
“All right, we can at least listen to what your master has to say.” Before the others could protest much, she waved them silent.
“May I stand?” Guri asked.
“Yes.”
Guri came to her feet in a smooth motion.
“Dash, unbind her,” Leia ordered.
“There is no need,” Guri said, smiling. She flexed her arms. The bands around her wrists popped as if they were made of cheap plasto. She took a deep breath and strained; the cable around her shoulders gave a metallic groan, stretched, then snapped.
“Oh, man,” Lando said.
Guri moved to the room’s com, waved her hands at it. A few moments passed. Then a deep, masculine voice said, “Yes?”
“Guri, Highness. I have Princess Leia Organa here. She would like to speak with you.”
“Where’s the image?” Lando asked.
“My master prefers not to send it out, even on a shielded channel,” Guri said. She looked at Leia.
Leia said, “Greetings, Prince Xizor.”
“Ah, Princess Leia. How delightful to make your acquaintance at last.”
His voice was compelling, at least.
“Your … droid here says you wish to see me.”
“Indeed. I have information that might be of use to you.”
“Concerning …?”
“The attempted assassination of Luke Skywalker. A friend of yours, is he not?”
It took much of Leia’s control to avoid gasping. Xizor knew about the plot!
“We are comrades, yes,” Leia said. “Tell me, how do you know of the attempts on Luke Skywalker’s life?”
“Not over the comlink,” he said. “We must discuss such matters face-to-face. If you will allow Guri to escort you, I will explain all when you arrive.”
Leia looked around the room. This certainly was unexpected. What was she going to do?
22
The building to which Luke had been taken was only a hundred kilometers or so, he guessed, from the Bothan safe house—that hadn’t stayed safe very long, had it?—and he was now locked in a strongly reinforced cell. The technology here was a whole lot lower than the Bothans’ had been. The walls were plain, of some hard substance, a neutral gray. The heavy door was sheathed in durasteel plate, and a window at eye level was crisscrossed with metal mesh, the strands of which were as thick as his little finger. A guard pushing two meters tall and probably half that wide stood across the hall with a blast rifle, staring at the door. There was a heavy plastic cot bolted to the floor, with a thin pad and a blanket on it. A dim light overhead cast faint and fuzzy shadows. In one corner was a shallow depression in the floor with a fist-size round hole in the middle of it. He had a pretty good idea what that was used for.
Other than those things and himself, there was nothing in the cell.
Well. It could be worse. There could be vermin.
Luke sat on the cot. They’d taken his comlink and lightsaber, but they hadn’t roughed him up or tortured him. Yet, anyway.
Who were they? What did they want?
As if in answer, the lock on the cell door clicked and the door swung inward. The Barabel stepped into view. Luke couldn’t see her very well—he was pretty sure now it was a her—she seemed to find the darkest of the shadows as if she belonged there. Well. That didn’t matter, either. He could hear her well enough.
“I don’t suppose you want to tell me what’s going on?”
The Barabel made a gesture Luke interpreted as a shrug. “No reason why not. No point in being unpleasant. There’s nothing you can do about it.”
There was a happy thought.
“I am Skahtul. I make my living as a bounty hunter, as do the others with me. It seems there is a large reward—a very large reward—offered to whoever delivers Luke Skywalker to them, alive and well, no questions asked. Realizing what a difficult chore this might be, a group of us decided to band together. Better to have a portion of a lot of credits than none. Lucky for us, you and those blasted Bothans have increased the amounts of the shares the survivors of the attack will collect. It’s the same pie, but there are now fewer of us to divide it among.”
Before he could speak, she continued: “Oddly enough, there is a second reward being offered for Luke Skywalker; this one is for him—you—dead.
“Fortunately for you, the second amount is not quite as large as the first, so we plan to keep you healthy until we can collect it.”
“Here’s a third option,” Luke said. �
��How about I give you more than either bounty to let me go?”
Skahtul laughed, a hard-edged sound that lapped against the solid walls and bounced back at them. “Oh, certainly, we—my colleagues and I—would be open to such an offer.”
Here was a chance. He could borrow the credits from Leia and pay her back later. “How much are we talking about?”
Skahtul named a figure.
“Whoa! You could buy half a city with that many credits!”
“With enough left over for you and six or eight of your friends to retire upon and live happily ever after,” the bounty hunter said. “Did we miss something in our search? You have a credit tab with that much in your pocket, perhaps?”
“I wish.” If Leia had that much, he’d never live long enough to pay it back, even if he made it to general. Unless he was out walking and tripped over a mountain of platinum that didn’t belong to anybody. Not much chance of that.
Skahtul laughed. “It is good that you maintain your sense of humor.” Her voice turned serious. “But be warned. Any attempt to escape will be met with maximum resistance We know how resourceful Jedi Knights are. You are worth a few thousand more alive than dead; however, better to collect the smaller bounty than to risk losing it all. Is this understandable?”
“Yeah, I get it.”
“Good. It’s not personal, you know. Some of us even admire what you’ve done against the Empire, having some sympathies in that direction, but business is business. Behave yourself and you will be treated well. You’ll be kept in here, but you’ll be fed and unmolested until we arrange for our benefactor to pay us and collect you.”
“You want to tell me who this ‘benefactor’ is?”
“Not to worry, you’ll find out soon enough.”
With that, Skahtul oozed back through the door and shut it behind herself.
Luke stared after her. Well, this was great. Captured by a bunch of bounty hunters and sold to the highest bidder. Good thing the one who wanted him dead—and who might that be?—was not as generous as whoever wanted him alive. Given the money involved, he had no idea about who the latter could be.
Darth Vader could throw that many credits out a window and never miss them, were the stories true. According to what he’d heard, if Vader’s personal fortune was changed into credit coins and dumped in a pile, you could spend the rest of your life digging in it with a shovel and not get to the bottom.
Leia sure didn’t have that much. Probably the whole Alliance didn’t have that much.
He’d better think of something fast. He had an idea that if he stood face-to-face with Vader unarmed, he wasn’t going to have much of a chance of surviving that meeting.
Good idea, Luke. Think of something.
What?
The droid who looked like a woman had hidden her ship in a small clearing centered in a vast rain forest two hundred kilometers away from Avaro’s casino. The ride didn’t take long by landspeeder, and it was just the three of them: Guri, Chewie, and Leia.
Storm clouds gathered in layers of purple and gray as they arrived. The rumble of thunder followed close after the bright flashes of approaching lightning. The air had that damp, wild smell that ran before a hard rain.
Leia and Chewie stared at the ship.
It was a sleek, somehow almost feminine craft, shaped vaguely like a figure eight lying on its belly, bristling with guns fore and amidships, a quad of powerful-looking engines mounted aft.
“My vessel, the Stinger,” Guri said.
“Very nice.”
“Named by my master,” she said. “An appropriate designation.”
“We’d better get on board before the storm gets here,” Leia said.
The trio started for the ship. Dash and Lando weren’t particularly happy being left behind, but Leia wouldn’t risk any more people than she had to. Chewie was enough. If this turned out to be what Guri and the mysterious Xizor claimed, it would be fine—assuming they got past the pickets around Coruscant and on-planet customs. If not, no point in all of them getting into trouble.
Well. Any more trouble than they were already in.
The rain let go in earnest, and they ran for the ship. They got drenched anyhow.
A couple of days had passed, at least. Luke had lost track of the time, since there wasn’t any light except for the dim one in the cell and no transparisteel on the outside.
He was practicing his levitation, hovering a few centimeters over the cot, when he heard approaching footsteps. He allowed himself to drop to the cot. He didn’t want to reveal he knew how to do this. There weren’t any holocams in the cell that he’d been able to detect, and the guard usually stayed across the hall.
The door clicked, and Skahtul slipped silently into the room.
“So, has my buyer paid up?”
“Not exactly.”
Luke slipped off the cot and stood, facing the shorter Barabel. “What does that mean?”
“It means that after a discussion with my … colleagues, we realized that you might be even more valuable than we thought.”
“More valuable? Come on.”
“There are two factions who want you. It was suggested that we might be able to pump up the price by playing them off against each other.”
Luke blinked. “You’re going to have them bid for me? Like a slave?”
“Something like that.”
“Who are these people?”
Skahtul did something like a shrug. “To be honest, we don’t know. Our contacts have been very, ah, circuitous. Agents of agents of agents kind of thing.”
Luke couldn’t think of anything to say.
“Of course, we must be very, ah, circumspect in our dealings. Players with the kind of money we are talking about must be very powerful. A misstep might be most dangerous. Fatal.”
“So you solicit higher offers from them. What if the ones who want me dead come up with more credits?”
“Like I said before, it’s not personal, just business.”
Luke stared at the Barabel. “You’ll excuse me if I take it personally.” His voice was as dry as his throat had suddenly become.
In his lair, Xizor smiled. Guri had the princess, and they were on their way here. Perfect.
He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Sometimes it was almost disappointing how easily he accomplished his ends. It would be good to have a challenge now and then, as he had in the old days before he was master of so much. When he’d had to work a little.
Ah, well. Better to win easily than to lose.
The Emperor sat in his favorite throne, the one set a meter higher than the rest of the room. Vader entered, dropped to one knee.
“My master.”
“Rise, Lord Vader.”
Vader did so. He hoped whatever the Emperor wanted was something easy and brief. He had just received word from his agents that Luke had been found. His captors, it seemed, were a ragtag band of bounty hunters who were demanding more money. Vader’s agents knew who they were but not precisely where they were hiding. And it seemed there was another bidder who also wanted Luke. Vader would have his people offer whatever it took; money meant nothing when compared to the dark side, and he fully intended to turn the boy in that direction. He considered going to collect Luke himself, to Kothlis, where he was reportedly being held, but to leave Imperial Center just now would be dangerous. He needed to be here to watch Xizor. The criminal’s twisted plans had ensnared the Emperor, and to walk away might well be a fatal mistake—
“You will go to Kothlis,” the Emperor said. “And collect young Skywalker.”
Once again Vader was glad his face was masked. He had not expected to hear this. How did the Emperor know? Who in Vader’s organization had betrayed him? There was no way the Emperor should be privy to that information, not yet. Only a handful of Vader’s most trusted agents knew it.
Unless … unless the Emperor was the other bidder for Luke?
No. That made no sense. The Emperor had given the
task to Vader; he would not enter into a bidding war against himself.
“I have already sent my agents for him,” Vader tried.
“Agents are not to be trusted. Skywalker grows stronger in the Force each day. I remind you that he has within him the power to destroy us. Only you are potent enough to capture him.”
“Yes, my master.” There was no arguing with him once he’d made his mind up.
Surely Prince Xizor’s foul hand was involved in this. It would not be wise to bring that up; the Emperor had made it quite clear that the Dark Prince was his concern, and it would not be a good idea to reveal that Vader had plans of his own concerning Xizor.
“There is another reason. You are aware that Prince Xizor’s scheme to allow the plans for the Death Star to fall into Rebel hands has been implemented.”
“Yes, my master. The plan proceeds over my objections.”
“Those objections have been noted, Lord Vader. As it happens, the plans have been transported from the freighter hijacked off Bothawui to Kothlis. Quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”
That Luke and the fruits of Xizor’s twisted plot were on the same planet at the same time, a coincidence? Doubtful.
“We must appear to make an attempt to recover the plans,” the Emperor continued, “to convince the Rebels that the plans are genuine and that we are distressed by their loss. Therefore your trip will serve two purposes. You can fetch Skywalker, and you can destroy some of the local scenery so that the Rebels will be gulled into believing we are concerned over the theft.”
He had to at least try: “Any of our admirals could go and wave the flag and fire the guns. I have many pressing matters here.”
“More pressing than my commands, Lord Vader?”
So much for that idea. “No, my master.”
“I thought not. I will have Skywalker with us or destroyed, the sooner the better. And the end of the Rebellion is near. If you personally lead the attack, the Rebels will be convinced that we think these plans of great value.”
“Yes, my master.”
Vader left the chambers, and once again his simmering anger threatened to bubble up and overcome him. Xizor’s touch was like a thick night fog: dark, clammy, seeping into the smallest cracks to chill and dampen. Once again, he had maneuvered the Emperor into getting his rival out of the picture. With Vader on Kothlis, who knew what cloying webs that reptilian spider would spin for the Emperor?