Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Rebel Dawn

by A. C. Crispin

  Han looked over at Lando, and was cheered to note that his friend was showing signs of strain. Landos natty outfit was creased, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes. His hair looked as though it hadnt been combed all day.

  Han knew he was no prize himself. He rubbed his hand blearily across his face, and only then realized hed forgotten to shave. Stubble rasped his fingernails.

  Forcing himself to sit up straight, Han picked up his first hand of card-chips ....

  Three and a half hours later, the Bothan and the Ro-djan had been eliminated. Theyd left without a back-ward glance. The Bothan male had bombed out-bet his entire trove of credit-chips on the game. When Lando took that hand, the alien had stalked away with-out a farewell. The Rodian female had folded, but she hadnt bombed. Han figured that shed decided to cut her losses and get out while she still had a profit. The stakes were getting very high. The sabacc pot alone contained nearly twenty thousand credits.

  Hang luck had held. He had enough credit-chips to cover any of the bets hed seen tonight. Mentally, he added them up. If he folded now, hed leave Bespin with twenty thousand credits, give or take a couple hun-dred. His eyesight was getting blurry, and the card-chips were hard to Count when they were in stacks.

  The Corellian considered. Twenty thousand was a lot of money. Almost enough to buy a ship of his own. Should he fold? Or should he stay in?

  The Chadra-Fan raised the bet another five thou-sand. Han covered it. So did Lando, but it took nearly all his credit-chips.

  Han assessed his hand. He had the card-chip for En-durance, which had the value of negative eight. Appro-priate, Han thought. This battle is becoming one of endurance .... He also had the Ace of Staves, with a value of positive fifteen. And the six of flasks. Value, positive six.

  Thirteen. He needed to take another card, and hope that he didnt get a r anked card, which would put him out of the game. Ill take a card, Hah said.

  The dealer tossed one down on the table. Han

  picked it up, saw with a sinking feeling that it was

  Demise; which was negative thirteen. Great/Im far-

  ther away than ever/

  And then the cards rippled and changed before his eyes ....

  Han now had the Queen of Air and Darkness, with a value of negative two, plus the five of coins, the six of staves, and the Master of coins, with a value of four- . teen. Total value . . . twenty-three. His heart leaped.

  Pure sabacc/

  With this hand, he could take both the hand pot and the sabacc pot... to win the tournament.

  There was only one hand that could beat him, and that was an idiotg array.

  Hah took a deep breath, then pushed forward all but one of his stacks of credit-chips. For a moment he con-sidered tossing all his cards into the interference field, but then his opponents would know for sure he wasnt bluffing. He needed them to cover his bet if he was go-ing to clean up.

  Hold steady, he thought to his card-chips, willing the randomizer not to change the patterns. Honest ran-domizers truly were random. Sometimes they changed card-chip patterns multiple times per game. Other times, they did so only once or twice. Han figured the odds for his card-chips changing within the next three minutes-the average time for a round of betting with this many players-were about 50-50.

  Hah kept his features composed, his body relaxed, with an effort of will that was nearly painful. He had to make them think he might be bluffing!

  On Han right, the little Chadra-Fans huge ears flickered rapidly back and forth, then he (Han had learned that he was male during the hours of play) ut-tered the faintest of squeaks. Deliberately, precisely, the alien folded his card-chips and placed them on the table, then got up and walked away.

  Han stared at his card-chips. Hold . . . hold! His pulse was hammering, and he hoped Lando couldnt see it.

  The professional gambler hesitated for a long sec-ond, then requested a card. Han blood rushed in his ears as, slowly and deliberately, Calrissian extended a hand, and placed a card-chip facedown into the inter-ference field.

  Han stiffened. Hed caught just a glimpse of the pri-mary color of the card-chip reflected against the faint ionization of the field. Violet. If Han bleary eyes werent playing tricks on him, that meant the card-chip was the Idiot. The most vital card in the Idiot Array.

  Han tried to swallow, but his mouth was too dry. Lando is an expert at this, he thought. He could have put that card cbwn in just that manner, knowing Id see its telltale color, and guess that he holding the Idiot. But why? To bluff me? Scare me into folding? Or am I imagining things?

  Han looked back up at his opponent. Lando was holding two cards in his hand now. The professional gambler smiled at his friend, then, quickly punching a notation onto a data-card, he pushed it and his few re-maining credit-chips toward Han. My marker, he said, in his smoothest, most mellow tones. Good for any ship on my lot. Your choice of my stock.

  The Bith turned to Han. Is that acceptable to you, Solo?

  Hans mouth was so dry he didnt dare speak, but he nodded.

  The Bith turned back to Lando. Your marker is good. Lando was holding two cards plus the Idiot, which was safely in the interference field. Hah fought the im-pulse to wipe his hand across his eyes. Could Lando see him sweating? Have to stay calm, think, Han ordered himself. Does he have the Idiot Array... or... is he bluffing?

  There was only one way to find out.

  Hold, hold, he ordered his hand, and slowly, deliber-ately, he pushed forward his last stack of chips. I call, he said. His voice emerged as a strained croak.

  Lando stared at him across the table for an endless second, then the gambler smiled slightly. Very well. Slowly, he reached over and turned up the card in the Interference field.

  The Idiot stared up at Hah.

  Moving deliberately, Lando took his next card-chip, and laid it down beside the Idiot, face up. The Two of Staves.

  Han couldnt breathe. Im dead... Ive lost everj-thing ....

  Lando turned over the last of his cards.

  The Seven of Flasks.

  Han stared unbelievingly at the losing hand, then, slowly, he raised his eyes to regard his friend. Lando smiled wryly and shrugged. Gotta hand it to you, buddy, the gambler said. I thought I could bluff you.

  Lando was bluffing! The Corellian head whirled as it sank in. I won! I cant believe it, but I won!

  Slowly, deliberately, he laid down his card-chips.

  Pure sabacc, he said. The sabacc pot is mine, too.

  The Bith nodded. Captain Solo is our tournament winner, gentlebeings, he said, speaking into the tiny amplifier attached to his collar. Congratulations, Cap-tain Solo!

  Dizzily, Han nodded at the Bith, then he noticed that Lando was leaning across the table, his hand out. Excit-edly, Han reached over and wrung his friends hand. I cant believe it, he said. What a game!

  Youre a better player than I ever gave you credit for being, old man, Lando said genially. Han wondered how Lando could be so composed when hed just lost so much, then he reflected that the gambler had probably won and lost fortunes before.

  Han picked up the data-card that was Landos marker, and studied it. So, what ship are you going to claim? Lando asked. Ive got an almost new YT-2400 Corelli-systems light stock freighter that would be your best bet. Wait11 you- Im taking the Falcon, Han said, in a rush.

  Landos eyebrows went up. -The Millennium Fal-con? he said, obviously dismayed. Oh, no. Han, thats my own personal vessel. That was never pa of the deal.

  You said any ship on your lot, Han reminded him, levelly. Their eyes locked. You said any of your stock. The Falcons sitting on your lot. I claim her.

  But- Landos mouth tightened, and his eyes flashed.

  Yeah, buddy? Han said, letting an edge creep into his voice. You gonna honor this marker, or what?

  Slowly, deliberately, Lando nodded. Nobody can say I dont honor my markers. He drew a long breath, then let it out in an angry hiss. All right then ....the Falcons yours.

  Han grin
ned, then threw both arms up into the air and whirled around in an impromptu dance, giddy with joy. Waitll I tell Chewie! The Millennium Falcon is mine! At last! A ship of our own!

  Bria Tharen stood alone in the deserted holo-lounge, watching Han Solo as he rejoiced in his victory, wish-ing she could be there to hug him, kiss him, celebrate with him. This is wonderful/she thought exultantly. Oh, Han, you deserved w win/You played like a champion!

  She wondered what the dark-skinned gambler had given the Corellian as a marker. Something valuable, obviously. Han was clutching the data-card as though it were the key to the most wonderful treasure in the universe.

  It was late on the night of the fourth day, and the Corellian Commanders meetings with the Duros, the Sullustan and the Alderaanians would be concluded to-morrow morning. Theyd made progress in reaching some agreements, and all of them had learned a great deal about each others culture, but nothing major had been decided. None of the three other Rebel groups had been willing to commit to Corellias proposed Rebel alliance.

  Bria sighed. Shed done her best, but it was obvious that there was still a long way to go. She supposed she shouldnt blame the other groups for their caution, but she couldnt help it. The situation with the Empire was only going to get worse, and the others were blind if they couldnt see that for themselves.

  Heating the sound of footsteps, Bria turned, to find the Alderaanian girl, Winter, coming toward her. She was a lovely young woman with her crystal-colored hair and pale green eyes. Her simple, modestly cut green dress revealed a slender, regal figure. She was tall, though not as tall as Bria.

  The Corellian Commander nodded, and the two of them watched the action from the tournament ball-room for a few minutes. Han was in the midst of other players now, mingling, being congratulated. Food and drink were circulating, and tournament officials, deal-ers, and hotel staff were now part of the crowd. A party atmosphere reigned.

  It looks like theyre having more fun than we are in our meetings, Bria said dryly. I envy them. Not a care in the world.

  Oh, Im sure they have cares, Winter said. But at the moment theyve thrown them aside so they can exist only in the present.

  Bria nodded. Quite the philosopher, arent you?

  The girl laughed a little, a musical, pleasant laugh. Oh, we Alderaanians have a long tradition of debating philosophy, ethics, and morality. There are cafes in Aidera where citizens sit and argue philosophy all day long. Its a planetary tradition.

  Bria chuckled a little. Corellians have more of a reputation for being hot-headed doers, who get things accomplished, but love taking risks.

  Perhaps our two worlds need each other as a bal-ance, Winter observed.

  Bria gave her a thoughtful glance. Winter, would you like to go over to the bar and get a cup of vine-coffeine?

  Id like that, the girl said, nodding. Her crystalline hair rippled over her shoulders with each movement. Bria had hearkl that adult Alderaanians didnt cut their hair. Winters cascaded down her back like a glacier.

  When they were comfortably seated, with cups of the steaming, fragrant brew before them, Bria dis-creetly pressed a button on her golden bracelet, and aimed the cornsca jewels that studded it outward into the room, then she turned her wrist upward, all the while studying the jewels. When no light flashed amidst them, she relaxed. No spy devices. Not that I expected any, but better to be safe than sorry ....

  So, Winter, tell me about yourself, Bria said. How did you happen to come on this mission?

  The Viceroy has been like a father to me, the girl said, quietly. He raised me wit h his own daughter, Leia. Ive been the princesss companion ever since we were little children. She smiled faintly, and Bria was struck once again by how poised, how mature, she was for her age. There have been times when Ive actually been mistaken for the princess. But Im glad Im not royal. Its hard being in the public eye all the time, the way the Viceroy and Leia are. Constant pressures, be-ing hounded by the press... your life isnt your own.

  Bria nodded. I suspect its worse than being a vid-star, being royalty. She took a sip of her vine-coffeine. So Bail Organa raised you... and yet he allowed you to come on this mission, knowing there could be dan-ger, if we were discovered? Bria raised her eyebrows. Im surprised. You seem a little young to have to en-dure such risks.

  Winter smiled. Im a year and a few months older than the princess. I just turned seventeen. Thats the age of responsibility on Alderaan.

  Same as CoreIlia, Bria said. Too young. When I was seventeen, I didnt have a bit of sense. She grinned ruefully. Thats so long ago... it Seems like a million years, instead of nine.

  You seem older than that, Winter observed, even if you dont look it. Twenty-six and a Commander? You must have started young. She stirred traladon milk into her vine-coffeine.

  I did, Bria agreed, lightly. And if I seem older than my age, well... a year as a slave on Ylesia will do that to a girl. Those spice factories take a lot out of you. You were a slave? Winter seemed surprised.

  Yes. I was rescued from Ylesia by a... friend. But physically getting off the planet was the easy part, Bria admitted. Long after my body was free, my mind and spirit were still enslaved. I had to learn to free myself, and it was the hardest thing Ive ever done.

  Winter nodded, her gaze sympathetic. Bria was a bit surprised at herself for opening up to the girl this way, but the Alderaanian teenager was amazingly easy to talk to. It was obvious that she wasnt just making conversa-tion, she really cared about what Bria was saying. The commander shrugged slightly. It cost me everything that was important to me, basically. Love, family... se-curity. But it was worth it, to be myself. And it brought me a new purpose in life.

  Fighting the Empire.

  The older woman nodded. Fighting the Empire that condones and encourages slavery. The filthiest, most degrading practice ever developed by supposedly civilized sentients.

  Ive heard about Ylesia, Winter said. The Viceroy ordered an investigation of the place a few years ago, when a few unpleasant rumors surfaced. Since that time, hes kept up a public information campaign to let Alderaanians know the truth about the place-about the spice factories, the forced labor.

  Thats the worst thing about it, Bria said, bitterly. They dont force you. People work themselves to death there, and they do it willingly. Its horrible. If only I had the soldiers and weapons, Id head for Ylesia tomorrow with a couple of squadrons. Wed shut that stinking mudhole down for good.

  It would take a lot of troops.

  Yes, it would. They have eight or nine colonies there, now. Thousands of slaves. Bria cautiously sipped the hot beverage. So... are you looking forward to to-morrows session?

  Winter sighed. Not really.

  I dont blame you, Bria said. It must be pretty boring, hearing us wrangle all day over whether or not a Rebel Alliance is the right course of action. You ought to skip tomorrows session, and go have some fun. Cloud City has tours to go watch the beldon herds, and there are aerial rodeos where thranta riders do stunts. Ive heard its an amazing thing to watch.

  I have to be at the conference tomorrow, Winter said. Minister Dahlney needs me.

  Why? Bria was puzzled. For moral support? The girl smiled faintly. No. I am his recorder. He needs me to help him prepare his report for the Viceroy.

  Recorder?

  Yes. Everything I see, or experience, or hear, I re-member, Winter said. I cannot forget, though some-times I wish I could. Her lovely features grew sad, as though she was recalling some unpleasant scene from the past.

  Really? Bria was thinking how handy that would be, to have someone like that on staff. She herself had taken lessons and hypno-conditioning to improve her own recall, because so little of what she did could be entrusted to datafiles or fiimsies. Youre right, that would make you invaluable.

  The reason that I said I wasnt looking forward to tomorrows session, Winter said, leaning forward across the table, wasnt that I was bored, Commander. What I meant was that its hard for me to listen to Hric Dahlney stubbornly insi
st that Alderaanian ethics are more important than defeating the Empire.

  Bria cocked her head. Oh... now, that interesting.

  What makes you say that?

  Twice, when I accompanied Leia and the Viceroy to diplomatic functions on Coruscant- she stopped her-self, then smiled ruefully, I mean, to Imperial Center-

  I saw the Emperor. One of those times, Emperor Palpatine stopped and spoke to me, just a perfunctory greeting, but... She hesitated, biting her lip, and for the first time, Bria saw her maturity slip, and a fright-ened child in those youthful features.

  Bria, I looked into his eyes. I cannot forget them, no matter how I try. Emperor Palpatine is evil. Unnatural, in some strange way.... The girl shuddered, despite the cozy warmth of the bar. He frightened me. He was... malevolent. Thats the only word that fits.

  Ive heard stories, Bria said. Though Ive never met him. Ive seen him from a distance, but thats all.

  You dont want to meet him, Winter said. Those eyes of his . . . they fasten on you, and you feel as though they will drink up your spirit, all that makes you what you are.

  Bria sighed. Thats why we must resist him, she said. Thats what he wants, to engulf us all... planets, sentients... everything. Palpatine is determined to be-come the most absolute despot in history. We have to fight him, or well all be ground to dust.

  I agree, Winter said. And thats why Im going to go back to Alderaan and tell the Viceroy that we of Alderaan must arm ourselves and learn to fight.

  Bria blinked, startled. Really? But thats not the way Minister Dahlney thinks.

  I know, the girl said. And I know that the Viceroy is opposed to taking up arms. But your words over the past few days have convinced me that if Alderaan doesnt fight, well be destroyed. Well know no true peace as long as the Emperor rules.

  Do you think Bail Organa will listen to you? Bria said, feeling a spark of hope. At least I reached one person these past few days . . . it wasnt a complete waste ....