by Troy Denning
Like any good industrial spy, Yus was taking pains to establish herself as a loyal employee in the eyes of her target. But she was also warning the Qrephs to go easy, letting them know that intimidation would not work against Lando Calrissian. It was rather impertinent of her, but, in this case, Marvid concurred with her opinion.
Marvid glanced toward the far end of the table, and his powerbody—responding to a thought that had barely risen to the level of consciousness—drifted into position directly opposite Calrissian.
“Selling is in your best interests,” Marvid said. “The Sarnus Refinery has been draining Tendrando finances for months now, and it’s only going to get worse.”
“And so of course you just have to buy it,” Yus retorted. “The pirates are a temporary problem, and you certainly know that—probably better than anyone.”
“Chief Yus, that’s the second time you have made a thinly veiled accusation against us,” Craitheus said. Overacting as usual, he spoke in a wispy, menacing voice. “I would advise against a third.”
The humor left Calrissian’s eyes, and Marvid knew his brother had gone too far with the intimidation tactics. Hoping to undo the damage, he dropped his powerbody until his feet were almost on the floor, bringing him eye-to-eye with the famous industrialist and gambler.
“Chairman Calrissian, you’re an astute businessman,” Marvid said, his tone reasonable and almost apologetic. “So I’m sure you understand why we’re making such a generous offer.”
“Because those asteroid crushers of yours are too big and clumsy to compete in an environment like the Rift,” Calrissian said. “And you want to shut down my refinery, so the asteroid tugs will have no other place to sell and you can drive down the price of raw ore.”
“Close enough,” Marvid said, allowing himself a tiny smile.
Despite his legendary acumen as a gambler, Calrissian saw only one level of the brothers’ plan. This was to be expected. Calrissian was only human, after all, with a tiny human brain in a tiny human head. The Qrephs were super-geniuses, bigheads even among the giant-headed Columi.
“Our process is immeasurably more efficient,” Marvid continued patiently. “The haulage savings in the first year alone will be worth more than this entire planet.”
“And put a million independent asteroid miners out of work,” Lando replied.
“Economics is a cruel science,” Marvid said. His powerbody wobbled as its mechanical shoulders reacted to a mental shrug. “There’s nothing we can do about that.”
“You need to think about yourself, Calrissian,” Craitheus added. “Chief Yus hasn’t been able to turn the refinery’s situation around, and you won’t, either. These are no ordinary pirates. If they were, our Mandalorian security force would have hunted them down by now.”
“Assuming your Mando thugs have actually been trying,” Dena said. “We have only your word for that.”
“And how many pirate bases has your security contractor eliminated?” Marvid asked.
Dena dropped her gaze. “We’re concentrating our resources on delivery protection.”
“Of course you are,” Craitheus sneered. His powerbody pivoted to face Calrissian. “You simply don’t have the resources to mount a search-and-destroy operation and continue operating the refinery at a loss.”
“And even if we were behind the pirates, as Chief Yus insinuates, it would change nothing,” Marvid added. “Your problems in Chiloon would still be drawing money away from your more valuable enterprises.”
“And robbing time from your family,” Craitheus added. “Think of them, Chairman Calrissian. Wouldn’t you rather be spending your evenings with Tendra and Lando Junior in one of your homes closer to the Core?”
Something flashed in Calrissian’s eyes. It might have been pain or agreement, but it was gone too quickly for even Marvid to catch. Instead, the human displayed his white teeth in a smile so wide and well rehearsed that it seemed quite condescending.
“Chance,” he said.
The wrinkles above Craitheus’s brow dropped into a wedge of confusion, and even Marvid did not understand the reference. Hoping for some insight, he accessed the last few seconds of his video archive, which was being constantly recorded by the vidcam in his powerbody’s breastplate. Calrissian’s face appeared in his mind, transmitted directly from his powerbody. Marvid replayed the vid slowly, trying to identify the emotion that he had seen flashing across the industrialist’s face.
He soon found what he was looking for: a micro-expression that came and went in a millisecond—the tip of a tongue darting between the lips, the eyes growing round and wide.
Fear.
For just an instant, Calrissian had taken Craitheus’s remark about spending time with Tendra and Lando Junior as a threat to their safety—and that had worried him.
When neither Marvid nor his brother spoke, Calrissian filled the silence. “Chance is what we actually call Lando Junior,” he said. “If your researchers were any good, that would have been in their report.”
“Our apologies,” Craitheus said, his voice growing ominous. “We’ll do better next time.”
“Assuming there needs to be a next time,” Marvid said. Deciding to press the target on the one weakness Calrissian had exhibited so far—his concern for his family—Marvid had his powerbody transmit a string of numbers to the datapad resting in front of Calrissian. “You need to be with your family, Calrissian. Believe me, it would be better for everyone if you accepted our offer and let us take over your Chiloon holdings.”
Marvid pointed at the datapad. A flash of defiance lit Calrissian’s brown eyes, but his gaze dropped to the screen anyway. His brow rose in shock.
“That’s a bit more than I expected,” he admitted.
“It’s for all of your Chiloon holdings,” Craitheus said. “All you need do is accept, and the credits will transfer to an account of your choice.”
Calrissian’s gaze remained on the datapad. “I didn’t realize you were in a position to offer that much,” he said, “especially in an immediate transfer.”
“There are a great many things you don’t know about us, Chairman,” Craitheus said. “That is how we prefer it.”
Calrissian nodded, silently acknowledging that their unannounced arrival and request for an urgent meeting had left him little time to investigate them—not that he would have discovered much. The Qrephs had learned how to manage information as mere younglings, from a mother who had earned her livelihood brokering information on the black market. Now her sons could work behind the scenes better than anyone in the galaxy—with the possible exception of the Sith, of course. Even Marvid and Craitheus had failed to anticipate the brief Sith takeover of the Galactic Alliance government the year before. The mistake had cost them close to three trillion credits in lost opportunities.
Lesson learned, Marvid thought.
Finally, Calrissian pushed the datapad in front of Yus. She studied it for a moment, then said, “That’s a nice offer, Lando.” There was just enough reluctance in her voice to make her disappointment sound sincere. “No one would blame you for taking it.”
“No?”
Calrissian’s eyes went back to the datapad. His fixed gaze and tilted head suggested that he was seriously contemplating the offer, as well he should have. Marvid and his brother had selected the figure very carefully. It was high enough to suggest the Sarnus Refinery was hurting them more than they wanted to admit, yet not so high that Calrissian would wonder what else the Qrephs had in mind for the Rift.
But there was no hint in Calrissian’s face of whether he was inclined to accept or refuse. Marvid initiated an immediate playback of the video archive, slowing the feed to search for micro-expressions that might suggest whether now was the time to remain patient or to make another threat and play on Calrissian’s fear for his family.
Still nothing.
Calrissian was inscrutable, one of the few humans who seemed truly capable of hiding his emotions. Marvid might even have admire
d the man, had he not posed a threat to the Qrephs’ own plans in the Rift.
Realizing that any additional pressure would only backfire, Marvid elected to let Lando ponder the figures on his own. The Qrephs were offering as much as the refinery would net in three years—even without the pirate troubles. Any rational being would jump at such an offer.
Apparently Craitheus had come to the same conclusion. He allowed his powerbody to settle to the floor and fold into a lounging-chair configuration, and that was when the door slid open and Yus’s obsolete CZ-19 secretary droid rattled into the conference room.
“I apologize for the intrusion, Chief Yus,” it said. “But Chairman Calrissian requested notification as soon as his guests arrived.”
“It’s about time,” Calrissian said. He turned to Dena. “Have someone show them up right away.”
“That won’t be necessary, Chairman,” the droid said. “Your guests are waiting in the anteroom now. Captain Kaeg escorted them up from the hangar.”
Marvid had to force himself not to look in his brother’s direction. By now Omad Kaeg was supposed to be rotting in a Brink Station trash compactor. The fact that he wasn’t undoubtedly meant that Craitheus’s thug—a Mandalorian lieutenant named Scarn—had failed to secure Kaeg’s seat on the support cooperative. That was not good news.
As Marvid contemplated Kaeg’s survival, Calrissian’s mustache lifted in a grin of relief. “What are you waiting for?” he asked the secretary droid. “Show them in!”
“You’re entertaining guests?” Craitheus demanded. “In the middle of our meeting?”
Calrissian squared his shoulders. “Our meeting is over for now,” he said. “You’ve made your offer, and I need time to consider it.”
Craitheus’s eyes grew angry. “You have no time, Calrissian. The situation is deteriorating. So will our offer.”
“I’ll take that chance,” Calrissian said, rising. “I have a feeling things in the Rift are about to change.”
He stepped around the table and started for the door, where a pair of humans was just entering from the adjacent anteroom. The male looked roughly the same age as Calrissian, with lighter skin, untidy graying hair, and a lopsided grin. The female appeared to be about ten years younger, with long hair shot with gray and a high-cheeked face. Her big brown eyes were shining with wit and vigilance, and Marvid found her quite attractive. Behind the pair followed a young olive-skinned human with a scarred chin and crooked nose—no doubt the target of Scarn’s failed assignment, Omad Kaeg.
Calrissian spread his arms wide. “Han, Leia—thanks for coming,” he said. “Your timing is perfect.”
This time, Marvid did not even try to avoid exchanging glances with Craitheus. Both Qrephs knew of Calrissian’s famous friends, Han and Leia Solo. But they hadn’t expected Calrissian to turn to the Solos for help. That development added a whole new dimension to their business in the Rift—one as personal as it was troubling. Marvid and Craitheus continued to look at each other for a moment, silently acknowledging that they had some new contingencies to plan for, then finally turned toward the jabbering humans.
“You’d better thank us,” Han Solo was saying. “This place is a nightmare to reach. I blew the Falcon’s entire sensor package in a plasma pocket, and we just about bumped noses with an asteroid the size of the Death Star.”
The corners of Craitheus’s mouth dipped in disappointment, and Marvid knew he and his brother were thinking the same thing: how unfortunate you avoided that.
Calrissian’s brows shot up, and he glanced past Han’s shoulder toward Kaeg. “Omad, you let Han take the yoke? His first time in the Rift?”
Kaeg shrugged, his twitching eye betraying the casual smirk he affected. “He threatened to have the princess mindwipe me—whatever that is,” he said. “But Captain Solo did pretty well for a Rift virgin. The asteroid bump was the only time we almost died.”
Calrissian cocked a brow. “That you know of.”
He released Han and turned to embrace Leia. She was dressed in a white, form-fitting flight suit that made Marvid wonder if Jedi women aged at the same rate as normal humans.
“Leia, I appreciate this,” Calrissian said, flashing his broad smile. “I know the Order is stretched thin right now. I’m sure you had a real job convincing the Jedi Council to let you come.”
“It was no problem at all,” Leia said, returning the embrace. “The Council is always happy for an excuse to send Han offbase.”
Calrissian laughed. He seemed so at ease that Marvid was starting to think their investigators had missed a lot more than Lando Junior’s nickname. Where the Jedi were concerned, stretched thin was an understatement. A Hutt–Yaka spice war was threatening to erupt into full-blown interstellar combat, while a Falleen charlatan was using her pheromones to build an interstellar church devoted to nonregulated, free-market anarchy. And there were dozens of similar crises building across the galaxy, all ready to erupt without Jedi intervention. The Order wasn’t stretched thin—it was at the breaking point.
Yet the Jedi Council had answered Calrissian’s request by sending not only the Solos to the Chiloon Rift, but also a Duros Knight named Ohali Soroc—who had actually reached Base Prime before being captured by the Qrephs’ security force. And Luke Skywalker’s son, Ben, had been snooping around the planet Ramook, an agricultural world located just beyond the far end of the Rift. Ostensibly, Ben and his companion had been searching for a mysterious Sith vessel named Ship—but Marvid knew a cover story when he heard one. The Jedi were responding in force to Calrissian’s call.
And Marvid had a good idea why. The balance sheet of Tendrando Arms, the Calrissian family’s most successful concern, showed three billion credits in payments to unspecified vendors. Both Marvid and his brother had assumed the payments were to the top-secret suppliers any weapons manufacturer required. But there was another possibility: perhaps Tendrando’s secret payments were being sent to the Jedi Order. That would certainly provide some incentive to help Calrissian solve his problems in the Rift.
Clearly, the Qrephs had underestimated Calrissian’s reach. Marvid turned to suggest they depart, and he found Craitheus glaring at Han with such obvious hatred that even Calrissian had noticed.
Obviously, a diversion was in order.
Marvid spun his powerbody toward Calrissian. “You have Jedi on call? Very impressive.”
“I asked my friends to appraise the pirate situation,” he said. “I trust you and Craitheus have no problem with that?”
“Only if their presence delays your decision to sell,” Marvid said.
Kaeg’s eyes widened in alarm, and he turned to Calrissian. “You’re selling?”
“Marvid and Craitheus made an offer.” As Calrissian spoke, his gaze remained fixed on Craitheus. “I haven’t said yes. I doubt I will.”
Craitheus’s eyes flattened to horizontal ovals. “Then you’ll wish you had, Calrissian,” he said. “Bringing Jedi into this was a mistake. They can’t save you.”
Both Solos tightened their lips almost simultaneously, and Marvid realized Craitheus had just committed a serious blunder. Very serious.
“What my brother means to say,” Marvid said, attempting to cover, “is that it’s too late for a few Jedi to drive out the pirates. The problem has already grown too large.”
Craitheus shot Marvid an angry glare, and Marvid realized he didn’t have the faintest idea what his brother was thinking. True, forty years ago Han Solo had been the last person to consult their mother before someone put a blaster bolt through two of her cerebrums. But emotional outbursts were not how Columi operated. Columi followed a plan.
Seeing that all three humans were now staring at him, Marvid realized that he had no choice except to follow his brother’s example. Fixing his gaze on Calrissian, he tipped his powerbody forward in intimidation.
“Your only hope is to accept our offer and count yourself lucky.” As Marvid spoke, his powerbody reported a surge of high-frequency radio waves—a signal of
approval from Craitheus. “If you don’t, you’ll leave the Rift with nothing.”
“If you leave at all,” Craitheus said. He spun his powerbody away and started toward the exit. “Don’t underestimate us, Calrissian.”
“It wouldn’t be smart,” Marvid added.
Following his brother’s lead, Marvid turned toward the door—and found Leia Solo standing in front of him with folded arms. He armed his powerbody’s weapon systems with a thought—and her hand dropped to her hip and came up holding her still-inactivated lightsaber.
“You know what wouldn’t be smart, Marvid?” she asked. “Underestimating Han and me. That’s what your thugs at Brink Station did, and they paid with their lives. All of them.”
“Yeah, it was a real mess,” Han added. “Scales and bits of Mandalorian armor everywhere. I’ll bet they’re still scrubbing that blue stuff off the walls.”
“Then we’ll have to send more next time,” Marvid said, moving his powerbody higher. “Fortunately, our security force is more than ample.”
With that, he crossed over the top of the table and shot through the door after his brother—then ran straight into the Solos’ golden protocol droid, who was two steps inside the anteroom, still reeling from his encounter with Craitheus.
Marvid lashed out with a vanalloy arm and sent the 3PO unit stumbling.
As the 3PO sputtered behind him, Marvid followed his brother down the corridor toward the turbolifts. Though he kept his weapon systems armed, Marvid wasn’t expecting trouble. The refinery was bustling with sentient staff, and Calrissian was too soft to jeopardize innocent lives by deploying his dreaded YVH security droids. Both brothers reached the turbolift bank without incident.
Before he slipped into a tube behind Craitheus, Marvid activated his powerbody comlink and opened a channel to their confidential assistant, Savara Raine. “We’re returning to the Aurel Moon now,” he said. “Be there when we arrive, or you may be left behind.”
“I’m already aboard and waiting.” As always, Savara’s voice was silken and alluring, with a hint of accent so exotic that Marvid often found himself accessing his archive just to hear it. “Trouble?”
