Star Wars - The Han Solo Trilogy - Rebel Dawn

by A. C. Crispin

  The line moved forward a few paces, and the bounty hunter shoved his heavy case along with his foot, as he moved with it. For just a moment he indulged himself in imagining what would happen were he suddenly t9 appear as his real self, as Boba Fett in his Mandalorian armor, instead of as he currently was, disguised as an Anomid.

  It was necessary from time to time, hed discovered, to appear as a being other than himself. Anomids were perfect beings to assume as disguises, since hardly any of their bodies showed in their ordinary street garb. They were willowy humanoids native to the Yablari system, and typically dressed in oversized robes that covered them from their hooded heads to their six-toed feet. They also wore gloves and vocalizer-masks, so hardly any of their translucent, whitish skin showed. Anomids had wispy grayish hair, leaf-shaped ears, and large silvery blue eyes.

  Boba Fett of course wore a head-mask beneath his vocalizer-mask, but it was a very good one, custom-made to fit over his own features so that it would move quite naturally on his face. Silver-blue eyes were built into the mask, and were specially engineered so he could see nearly as well as he could with his unaided eyes.

  Still, he felt somewhat naked without his armor and its extended senses. With his armor on he had a range of visual modes available to him, enhanced audio pick-ups, and a host of other sensor data displayed on the telltales inside his helmet. With nothing but the Ano-mid robes, hooded cloak, mask and gloves on, he felt light and vulnerable---too vulnerable.

  But it was necessary. If Boba Fett had attempted to book passage on the Queen as his tme self, panic would have ensued. Each passenger aboard and much of the crew would have been convinced that he, she or it was the bounty hunters intended quarry.

  Citizens, Fett had discovered long ago, all had guilty consciences. Virtually every sentient in the galaxy had done something in his past that he, she or it could flash back on and imagine was a reason for having a bounty placed on their heads. The being who had once been Journeyman Protector Jaster Mereel, and was now Boba Fett, the galaxys most notorious bounty hunter, had watched the reactions of the citizens around him for years, as he hunted bounties of one sort or another.

  Hed seen the face of a young mother clutching her infant change when shed seen him, seen her clutch her baby to heT breast as though he, Boba Fett, were going to snatch the child from her arms and drag both of them away. Several times citizens had panicked when hed even come into their vicinity, throwing themselves on the floor, babbling out their (mostly imaginary) fatal transgressions and pleading for mercy... only to pull themselves up in mingled relief and dawning indigna-tion when they realized that they were not Fetts quarry, and had humiliated themselves and spilled their secrets for no reason ....

  The line moved forward again. Boba Fett automati-cally surveyed the crowds around him, but he wasnt really expecting to see his quarry. Bria Tharen had boarded the Queen on its previous stop, back on Corel-lia. It was unlikely that she would be coming outside the vessel during its short layover on Gyndine.

  The bounty hunter had missed the chance to catch up with the Tharen woman when shed first boarded the Queen because shed come aboard under an assumed name in the last minutes before the ship undoeked. The Haj Shipping Line, while outwardly loyal to the Em-pire, was known to do favors for the Rebel Alliance when it suited them; the Tharen woman last-minute booking was doubtless the result of some official string-pulling.

  Also, Bria Tharenassumed identity was not one of the ones shed used before. This time she was traveling as Bria Lavval, a minor starlet and cabaret singer who was headed for a booking at one of the large casinos, The Chance Castle, on Nar Shaddaa.

  Boba Fett had access to a great many sources of data from many places in the galaxy. Since he hunted boun-ties from time to time for the Empire, he had access to some of the mid-security level Imperial databases. He also had access to many newswires, and the Guild databases.

  Fett had ordered his systems to flag certain priority names and physical profiles. When a Bria Lavval showed up one morning on his database summaries as a passenger aboard the Queen when the liner had de-parted CoreIlia that morning, a quick check of the woman ID and physical description had shown Fett that there was a better than 70 chance that this was actually Bria Tharen-Commander in the Corellian resistance.

  Only a visual inspection. would assure Fett that she was the right woman, so here he was... standing in line to board the huge liner.

  The Queen was fully two kilometers long, and equipped to carry five thousand passengers. She con-tained most amenities any sentient could wish... in-door pools and spas, casinos, null-gee gliding areas, exercise rooms, as well as upscale shops where a wealthy being could spend a great many credits indeed.

  Fett moved forward yet again, nudging his case along with him. It contained, in camouflaged compaments, his Mandalorian armor and several select weapons. The sides of the case were reinforced with durinium, an al-loy that would resist sensor scans. And, in the outer-most layer of the case, there were microminiature projection devices that would generate false readings about the contents to any scanning device.

  Fett finally reached the head of the line, and pro-duced his IDs, ticket and credit vouchers. The ships official who checked his reservation offered to call for a luggage droid, but Fett politely refused, his harsh voice reverberating through the vocalizer-mask.

  Amongst themselves, Anomids did not converse in oral speech, but by an elaborate and very beautiful form of sign language. They were known to be sociable be-ings, and Boba Fett was hoping there would be no real Anomids on board. If there were, he would have to plead illness and stay in his cabin, for he did not know the Anomid sign-language.

  But none of the individuals on the passenger roster had listed Yablari as their world of origin.

  When he reached the safety of his cabin, Fett stowed his trunk, first making sure to activate its anti-theft pro-tections. Anyone unfortunate enough to attempt to re-move the trunk from Fetts cabin, or to try and open it, would lose digits-at minimum.

  The Queen scheduled itinerary called for her to stop at a number of ports of call. Their path would take them through some of the most dangerous areas of Im-perid space-including a stop in Hutt space at Nar Hekka... hardly a garden spot of the galaxy, but Nar Hekka was head and shoulders above either Nal Hutta or Nar Shaddaa. Fett suspected that Bria Tharen had chosen this liner because it was one of the largest, and thus probably the safest. There had been a lot of pirate activity lately.

  Over the next three days, Fett wandered the ship in his Anomid disguise, staying mostly to himself. He made a visual ID of Bria Tharen on the first day, and followed her to find out where her stateroom was. He discovered that she had a suite, and shared it with three men. Two of the men were older, and Fett figured that they, too, were officers in the Corellian resistance. The third man was in his mid-thirties, and, from the way he carried himself, was a seasoned combat veteran who was serving as security and bodyguard for the Corellian officers.

  The two officers and the bodyguard, like Bria Tharen, dressed in civilian clothes. The Tharen woman was sel-dom alone outside of her stateroom Often, she was sur-rounded by male admirers, although Fett noticed that she never took anyone back to her cabin with her, merely smiled and flirted casually. She played sabacc, careful neither to lose or win much, and she browsed the shops, but never bought anything of significance.

  Fett kept her under observation, and laid his plans carefully....

  Lando Calrissian enjoyed traveling aboard cruise ships, and had done a lot of it lately, since losing the Millennium Falcon to Han Solo. Now that Han and Vuffi Raa had trained him to be a better-than-average pilot, he could have taken any of the ships on his used spaceship lot for his own, but Lando wasnt that inter-ested in any of them. He was waiting for just the right ship to come along.

  His ideal ship would be more luxurious than the utili-tarian Falcon-but every bit as speedy and capable of defending herself. Lando was on the lookout for a nice yacht he could get for
a good price. So far, no bargains had surfaced.

  And, besides, private ships didnt have casinos. Lando liked casinos. Hed been spending a lot of time in them for the past year, working to recoup his liquid credit resources. The young gambler had been wiped out by the sabacc tournament, but since then, hed managed to turn Hun Solo loan of fifteen hundred credits into many thousands. Lando had been able to repay Hun the money hed borrowed several months before his friend had taken off for the Corporate Sector.

  Queen of Empire, an her sister ship, Star of Empire, were two of Lando favorite ways to get around the galaxy. They werent as fast as some of the newer ships, but there was no doubt that Haj Shipping Lines knew how to build a luxury vessel. And the Queen and the Star were big, a major advantage these days, with ,all the pirate activity going on.

  This time, hed chosen the Queen for his trip back home. From Nat Hekka, he could easily catch a system shuttle back to Nar Shaddaa. This particular evening, Lando was wearing his newest stylish outfit-red shirt embroidered with black, narrow black trousers, and a red and black short cape that swung from his shoulders with a rakish flare. His dark hair and mustache were im-peccably groomed, thanks to a trip to the ships barber that day. His black softboots shone with the subdued glow of real Numatra snakehide. Calrissian was looking good, and he didnt miss the admiring glances cast at him by some of the female patrons in the club.

  Lando was sitting in the Queens swankiest nightclub, the Star Winds Lounge, following a highly successful session at the sabacc tables. His credit pouch was care-fully stashed in a secret compartment close to his skin, and was satisfyingly heavy. This trip, hed make roughly four times what his expensive ticket had set him back. Not a bad profit margin.

  While he was gambling-serious business!--Lando was abstemious, rarely partaking of anything alcoholic. But at the moment he was relaxing, sipping a Tarkenian Nightflower, and munching on a handful of dried, salted jer-weevils. The band in the Star Winds was quite good, doing selections of older hits as well as the mod-em jizz-tunes, and many patrons were dancing. Lando eyed the unescorted ladies in the lounge, wondering whether he was interested enough in any of them to ask for a dance.

  His eyes kept returning to one woman who was sit-ting at a table with not one, but two male escorts. Hu-man, yes, and stunning. Long reddish hair swept up with jeweled sapphire combs, and a face and figure that just wouldnt quit. Lando couldnt decide whether she was romantically attached to either of her escorts. She sat close beside them, smiling and bending forward to listen as first one, then the other, spoke into her ear. But the more Lando watched her, the more he became con-vinced that neither of the men was her date. Her smiles were more... comradely... than romantic. There was no suggestion of a lingering intimacy in the brief con-tacts of their shoulders as they brushed hers.

  Lando finished his drink, and was almost ready to go over and ask the lovely stranger if shed like to dance, when the excellent Rughja orchestra-band, Umjing Baab and his Swinging Trio, finished their current se-lection. There were only three members in the band, but, since each Rughja had fifteen flexible limbs, and played at least ten instruments apiece, they sounded like a genuine orchestra. In fact, looking at Umjing Baab and his two band members, it was difficult to dis-tern anything but limbs ending in assorted instruments, though occasionally one of the being multiple eyes would be visible through the tangle.

  The band was very versatile, playing everything from swing-bop to modern jizz selections. The gambler clapped politely as they finished a mellow version of Mood and Moons, then settled back in his seat as the bandleader, Umjing Baab, put down his Kloo horn, dis-engaged from the halargon, and writhed his way up to the public address system. The Rughjas voice had a mechanical timbre... understandable, because it was artificially generated. Rughja were a species whose natural communication was not audible to humanoids. Umjing Baab spoke, as the spotlight refected off his glossy, mauve, upper-limbs. Good evening, gentles. Tonight we have an honored guest with us, a celebrity whom I am hoping we can prevail upon to favor us with a number! Join me in welcoming Lady Bria Lawal!

  Lando clapped politely, but his applause soon be-came genuine when he realized that the bandmaster was referring to his attractive stranger. Blushing, smil-ing, she half-rose from her seat to take a bow, but then, urged on by the applause, she picked up the skirts of her long, electric-blue sheath (a c1or that set off her hair) and walked up the steps to the bandstand.

  After conferring briefly with Umjing Bwah, she stepped up to the microphone, tapped her jeweled, slippered toe as the percussion started up, and then the band broke into a slowed down version of last years hit, Smoky Dreams.

  Bria Lawal began to sing. Lando had heard a lot of singers in his time, and she was far from being the best. Her breath control was uneven, and she cut short some of the high notes because of it. But her voice was strong and in key, and her contralto was pleasantly husky. With her figure, face and smile, Lando was willing to forgive her lack of professional technique. Within moments of starting her song, she had all the humanoid males in the palm of her hand.

  She sang with passion of lost love, of tender sadness, of misty memories fading with time ....

  Lando was totally captivated. When she fnished the number, he clapped as loudly as the rest of the audi-ence. Smiling and blushing becomingly, she allowed herself to be escorted back to her table by Umjing Baab, who genufiected deeply to her, and then returned to his fellow Rughja band members.

  As the Swinging Trio struck up a catchy tune, Lando got unhesitatingly to his feet and walked over to the chanteuse, narrowly beating out a wealthy Alderaani-an banker whom Lando had relieved of many of his ex-cess credits earlier that evening.

  Reaching Lady Lawals table, Lando bowed to her, flashing his best, most charming smile. May I? he asked, holding out his arm.

  She hesitated for a long second, glanced at each of the men sitting with her, then shrugged fractionally. Thank you, she said, and stood up. Lando escorted her out to the dance floor. She looked around her and frowned slightly in consternation. Oh, dear. Im afraid I dont know how to do this one.

  Lando was surprised. The margengai-glide had been popular for at least five years. Its easy, he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, and interlacing his fingers with hers. Ill show you.

  She missed several steps right off, and brought her heeled evening slipper down on his toes once, but after a couple of minutes, and Landos experienced coaching, Bria began to catch on. Her sense of timing was good, and so were her reflexes. Once shed memorized the in-tricate pattern of the steps, she began to enjoy herself, Lando could tell. She was nearly as tall as he was, and as they moved around the dance floor, they began to re-ceive tile admiring glances of the onlookers still seated at the tables.

  Good, youve got it, Lando said. Youre a natural. I havent danced in years, she confessed, a little breathless, as the music changed to a fast number. Lando whirled her into a boxnov three-step. She was a little rusty, but it was obvious that the older dance was one shed done before.

  Youre wonderful, he assured her. Im the luckiest man on this ship, finding a partner like you.

  She gave him a brilliant smile, her cheeks flushed with the exercise and praise. Flatterer.

  Lando put on a mock-hurt expression. Me? I am under a vow of truth, Lady Bria . . . Bria . . . what a lovely name. Youre Corellian, arent you?

  Yes, she said, stiffening slightly in his arms, her glance suddenly wary. Why?

  I was just thinking that I;ee only heard that name once before. Is it common on your homeworld?

  No, she said. My father made it up from the first syllables of my grandmothers names. Brusela and Iaphagena. He didnt want to saddle me with either of them, but he wanted to honor both of them.

  Clever, Lando said. Obviously a man of great diplomacy and tact.

  She laughed a little, but there was a sad note under-lying her merriment. Thats my father, she agreed. Lando, Im surprised to hear you say youve met an-other Bria. I thought
I was the only one.

  You probably are, Lando said. The other Bria I knew was a ship. My friend Han named his Sorosuub Starmite he leased from me the Bria.

  She missed a step, recovered quickly. Han? she said. I used to know a Corellian named Han. Is your friend Corellian?

  Lando nodded, and twirled her in a spin. When she was back in his arms again, he said, Han Solo and I go back a ways. Dont tell me you know him?

  She laughed a little. I do. It has to be the same guy. Brown hair, brownish eyes with a hint of green, a hair taller than you, has a very charming, lopsided smile?

  Whoa, Lando said, raising an eyebrow. You do know him well, dont you? That guy gets around, doesnt he?

  Her face reddened at his knowing look, and she glanced away and concentrated on the intricate steps for a moment. When she looked back up, her eyes were cool, and a little amused. Hes just part of my past, like a lot of other guys, she said. There must be a few skeletons in your cargo locker, right?

  Lando, realizing hed touched a nerve, was happy to let the subject go. You bet, he said.

  They danced several more dances, and Lando en-joyed her company tremendously. He looked over at her table, and realized that her companions had left the lounge. Who are those fellows who were sitting at your table?

  She shrugged. just business associates, she said. Feldron is my agent, and Renkov is my business manager.

  I see, Lando said, secretly delighted. It was obvi-ous that she was serious that neither of them was any kind of romantic interest. So... do you want to have a drink, perhaps? Somewhere a bit more... private?

  She gave him an assessing glance, then nodded and stepped back, out of his arms. All right. Id like that. We can talk about... mutual acquaintances.

  Lando reached for her hand, then raised it to his lips.

  Mutual acquaintances it is, he said.