Star Wars - Tatooine Ghost

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Star Wars - Tatooine Ghost Page 20

by Tatooine Ghost (by Troy Denning)


  "Come here," he said. "And take this drip out of my arm."

  Leia went over to the side of the bed. "You're sure?"

  Han grabbed her around the waist, then pulled her down on top of him and kissed her, very long and very deep.

  "Yeah, I'm sure." He ran his hands under her robe, and the room suddenly grew warm. "It's gonna get in the way."

  Chapter 14

  Han woke smothering in the perfumed silki-ness of Leia's long hair, her soft skin warming his side and her breath tickling his ear. Sometime during the night, she had managed to reattach his hydration drip and return to bed without disturbing him, and now even his lips no longer felt dry. The room was comfortably cool, the sky window above the bed was blushing with the pink light of first sunrise, and everything was right with the world.

  Except, perhaps, that muffled sound coming from the suite's sitting room. It had the familiar drone of an electronically filtered voice and the sharp rhythm of someone giving orders. Of a squad leader assigning tasks to his stormtroopers. Alarm bringing him instantly to full wakefulness, Han looked to the side table and found his blaster resting next to Leia's.

  The electronic voice barked a command.

  Han did not bother to detach himself from the hydration drip, or even to wake Leia. He simply tossed her blaster over the far side of the bed, then snatched his own weapon and rolled after it, grab bing her on the way. A burning line of pain shot up his arm as the hydration catheter tore free, then he landed on the floor, bringing Leia down on top of him.

  Her eyelids rose half open, and their gazes met instantly. "Han?" She smiled dreamily. "My, you are feeling better."

  "Sorry, not in front of company." He snatched her blaster off the floor and pressed it into her hand. "You know I'm not that kind of guy."

  Leia's eyes opened wide. "Company?"

  "Listen."

  They fell quiet and listened to the muffled voices coming from the next room. It was too faint to understand words, but the stormtrooper drone was unmistakable. Leia pushed herself off him and started for the bedroom's oversized door.

  Han sat up. "Hey! Don't go out-"

  Leia stepped through the door.

  Han sprang across the bed after her. "At least put on some clothes!"

  When he peered into the sitting room, he found no storm-troopers anywhere. Leia was standing at the table, staring down at the datapad from which the electronic voices were coming.

  "Dama lent this to me so we could keep an eye on the lobby," Leia said, picking up the borrowed datapad.

  With a blaster in one hand and her brown eyes fixed on the datapad in the other, her long hair falling in a silky cascade over her shoulders, she seemed more breathtakingly beautiful than ever. Han knew he had to be the luckiest ex-smuggler in the galaxy; if they could just get past her fear of having children, he was pretty sure that when his time came, he would leave this universe with every wish he ever had fulfilled.

  Leia looked up from the datapad and frowned. "Han, why are you just standing there?"

  Han shrugged. "Too much sun, I guess." "Well, you're bleeding all over Dama's floor." Leia nodded at his arm, which was oozing blood from the rip where he had torn out the catheter. "Get a towel or something and come over here."

  Han snatched a small towel off the bar and joined her at the table. The image on the datapad showed a squad of stormtroopers standing in the ornate lobby of the Sidi Driss, the leader's chest pressed against the counter as he addressed a Pa'lowick so frightened her thin limbs and long proboscis were quivering.

  "I can't bring up those records," she was saying. "I'm only the night clerk. I don't have the password to check the day records."

  The squad leader grabbed her proboscis and pulled her half over the counter, then pressed the nozzle of his blaster rifle against the lips at the end.

  "But you can find someone who knows it."

  "Yefffth," she said.

  "Then do it." The leader released the Pa'lowick's trunk, freeing her to stumble back against the door behind the counter. He pointed to two of his troopers. "Accompany her."

  "What do you think?" Leia asked. "Are we in for a fight?"

  "I don't know." Han started toward the bedchamber. "But it wouldn't hurt to put our clothes on. If we have to leave in a hurry, the last thing I want is an all-over Tatooine tan."

  "I think we're in for a fight." Leia followed, her gaze still fixed on the borrowed datapad. "It wouldn't hurt to make sure Chewie and the Squibs are awake."

  "Better stay off the comlinks in case the Imps have a signal tracer in the air," Han said. "Which wall is Chewie's?"

  Leia pointed, then dropped the datapad on the bed where they

  could both see it as they dressed. Han banged on the wall with his blaster, using a two-short, two-long sequence that had meant trouble nearly as long as he and Chewbacca had been flying together. Then, keeping his eye on the datapad, he reached for his trousers.

  Once the night clerk and her escort were gone, a stormtrooper came over to the squad leader.

  "You didn't have to be so brutal, Sergeant," the trooper said. "She was already going to cooperate."

  "Sorry, sir." Even through the electronic filtering, the squad leader sounded anything but apologetic. "I thought brutal was the new style."

  "Efficient is the new style, Sergeant." The officer's armor betrayed no outward sign of his rank. "And brutalizing citizens who don't need it is most definitely not efficient."

  "Yes, sir," the sergeant said. "I didn't want to let them slip away."

  "Yes, of course."

  The officer brought his assault rifle up and calmly smashed the butt into the sergeant's helmet, knocking him to the floor. With the other stormtroopers looking on from behind their faceless helmets, the officer pointed his blaster rifle at his fallen subordinate.

  "Tell me, Sergeant, do you feel like doing me any favors now?" the officer asked. "And be honest. That is an order."

  There was a moment's silence, then the sergeant said, "No sir, I don't."

  "Now tell me why you believe a brutalized citizen will do anything for us but the minimum required to survive?"

  "I don't know, sir," the sergeant said. "She won't, I guess."

  "Congratulations, Sergeant. You get to live." The officer pointed his weapon away from the squad leader. "When the next citizen arrives, what interrogation style will you use?"

  "Efficient, sir."

  "Good." The officer motioned two subordinates to help the sergeant to his feet. "And you understand why it is so important for us to find these Rebels and their painting?"

  "Because the admiral wishes to add it to his collection," the

  sergeant said.

  Han, who had grown so absorbed with the lesson that he had nearly forgotten that the Imperials were in the same hotel, could almost see the officer's eyes rolling behind his helmet's lenses.

  "What about the Rebels? Why is it important that we capture

  them?"

  An eager recruit stepped forward. "Sir, because the admiral says it is. That is all we need to know, sir."

  The officer did not turn toward the recruit. "Sergeant, you will control your squad."

  "Yes, sir."

  The sergeant leveled his blaster rifle at the offender, then thought better of shooting the man and glanced at the officer. When the officer shook his head, the sergeant settled for bringing the butt of his rifle up under the recruit's chin.

  Han knew by the way the trooper's body went limp that he had been knocked unconscious.

  "Whoever this new admiral is, he's teaching old rancors new tricks." Han's gaze remained glued to the datapad. "That officer isn't following Imperial doctrine."

  "No, he isn't. But unless you want him teaching us new tricks,

  you'd better finish getting dressed." Leia motioned at the tunic

  hanging forgotten in Han's hands. "I have a feeling this squad isn't going to settle for a look at Dama's registration records."

  Han slip
ped the tunic over his head, then rapped on Chewie's wall again. This time, he was answered by the acknowledging thuds of a Wookiee fist. The officer continued his exercise.

  "Sergeant, do you need me to repeat the question?"

  "No, sir. It's important to capture these Rebels because they are New Republic scum."

  The officer remained expectantly silent.

  "Because they were prepared to destroy the painting rather than let us have it," the sergeant continued. "Because they were wearing elaborate disguises at the auction, and the admiral wishes to know who they really are."

  "Excellent, Sergeant." The officer stepped back to join the other troopers. "Handle this well, and I may promote you to platoon leader."

  The sergeant's posture grew instantly more upright. "I don't like that officer," Leia said. She was already dressed and strapping on her blaster holster. "He's good."

  "Yeah," Han said. "And he's still using us for training exercises. I hate that."

  The Pa'lowick and her escort of stormtroopers returned with a sleepy-looking woman whom Han remembered vaguely from when Chewbacca carried him into the Sidi Driss. She had a round face and dust-colored hair with eyes he could see glinting defiance even in the datapad's tiny screen.

  The woman went to the counter and glared directly at the squad leader. "I'm Dama Brunk, owner of the Sidi Driss. If it's rooms you're looking for, you'll have to go down to the SandRest. We're booked solid."

  The squad leader ignored Dama and turned his helmet lenses on the Pa'lowick. She quickly stepped behind Dama and began to quiver again.

  "First," the squad leader said, "I apologize for the treatment your assistant received at the hands of my predecessor. Such brutality is not proper Imperial procedure."

  The Pa'lowick's proboscis curled upward in surprise. Dama narrowed her gaze and demanded, "Since when?" "It's a recent directive." The squad leader continued to look at the Pa'lowick. "As you can see, he's been relieved of command and, I assure you, he will be punished when we return to our ship."

  "Who do you think you're fooling?" the Pa'lowick demanded. "I know who pulled my nose."

  "You're mistaken. The man who handled your nose has been punished and demoted," the stormtrooper lied in his electronic voice. He pulled the orange pauldron off his armor and snapped it onto the armor of the man next to him, then took it back. "I'm his replacement. We have codes of conduct and chains of command, and when they are not followed, action is swift."

  "Sure it is," Dama said. "You wanted something?" "A few answers. We're looking for some Rebels-" "None here."

  "I'm sure you believe that," the squad leader said. "But they wouldn't be wearing uniforms. We're looking for a man and woman, human, with a Wookiee and possibly a protocol droid-"

  "I didn't register anyone like that." Dama turned to the Pa'lowick. "You, Keesa?" Keesa shook her head.

  Dama looked back to the Imperial. "Anything else?" "How about Squibs?"

  Dama shook her head. "None of them, either." 'You're certain?" the squad leader asked. "Because we heard three of them were seen in your lobby. They might have arrived on a three-seated swoop."

  Dama's bearing grew tense. "Where'd you hear that?"

  "Then it's true?" the squad leader asked.

  Dama remained silent, obviously debating how to answer.

  "We've got trouble," Han said.

  The door buzzer sounded and Leia, who was already hanging water packs on her utility belt, went into the sitting room and admitted Chewbacca and C-3PO.

  "What about the Squibs?" Han asked.

  Chewbacca growled that they were at the end of the hall, finally asleep after a long night of water play.

  "We'll collect them on the way out." Leia was furiously loading the portable holocomm and other equipment into a utility satchel.

  On the datapad, Dama collected her wits and pretended to consult the inn's registry. "No Squibs," she said. "But we've got Ranats. Maybe someone was mistaken."

  "Maybe," the squad leader said. "But you won't mind waking them, will you? We'll only disturb them for a minute-providing, of course, that you're not the one who was mistaken."

  "Of course. We'll show you the way." As Dama turned to step out from behind the counter, she cast a quick glance into the hidden security cam and mouthed the word "go," then started down the corridor. "They're in the east wing."

  "That's at the opposite end of the inn." Leia pulled her sand cloak over her head and threw Han's to him. "She's trying to buy us time."

  "And not doing very well," Han said, now carrying the borrowed datapad along as he stuffed the last of his possessions into a utility satchel. "The Imps aren't buying it."

  The display screen showed only two stormtroopers following Dama and Keesa toward the east wing.

  Dama stopped and turned toward the squad leader. "Aren't

  YOU coming?"

  "We want to disturb your inn as little as possible," he said. "Two of my troopers will be enough to determine whether your guests are Squibs or Ranats. The rest of us will wait here with Keesa."

  Keesa's proboscis began to quiver again.

  Dama glared at the stormtrooper, but could only nod. "As you wish." She squeezed Keesa's shoulder. "It'll be all right."

  But, of course, it was not. No sooner was Dama gone than the squad leader turned to the Pa'lowick.

  "You like your employer, I can see that."

  Keesa nodded uncertainly.

  "Then you don't want to see her hurt."

  Keesa shook her head.

  "And only you can prevent that," the squad leader said. "We

  know she's lying."

  Keesa's eyes grew wide. "She is?"

  The squad leader nodded. "Where are the Squibs?" he asked. "Where are the humans and their Wookiee?"

  "I don't know."

  "Don't lie!" the squad leader snapped. "Lie, and I'll-"

  "Sergeant!"

  The squad leader stopped and turned to face the trooper who had barked at him. "Yes?"

  "Perhaps she really doesn't know," the trooper-the officer, Wan assumed-suggested. "Does that prevent her from helping us?" "I see your point, sir." The squad leader turned back to Keesa. "Very well, you are-"

  "You don't see, Sergeant." The officer stepped forward and fixed his lenses on Keesa.

  Han and Leia were already following Chewbacca and C-3PO down a dimly lit corridor toward the Squibs' room.

  "If you were trying to hide a party of several beings in this hotel where would you put them?" the officer asked. "Answer honestly and I promise no harm will come to you or your employer."

  Keesa pointed down a corridor opposite the way Dama had gone. "The Hutts' luxury wing. There's hardly ever anybody in it since Jabba and Gardulla stopped meeting here."

  Han glanced over the darkened corridor down which they were walking. It was large and round, the way Hutts liked them, with glide ramps instead of steps where the hall changed elevations. "Get ready," Han said. "We've got company coming." But instead of sending the squad rushing off in the direction the Pa'lowick had pointed, the officer turned to the squad leader.

  "Sergeant, summon B-squad back to reinforce us and send two men with Keesa to cover the secret exit. As long as she shows them to the proper exit, she is free to go once the Rebels reveal themselves."

  "Yes, sir." The squad leader assigned two troopers to go with the quivering Pa'lowick and commed the other squad, then asked, "If I may, sir?"

  "You have a question." The officer armed his weapon, and the rest of the squad followed his lead. "Proceed. Questions are good."

  "Are you sure there's a secret exit?"

  "With Hutts, there's always a secret exit." The officer waved the rest of the squad down the corridor, but held the leader back long enough to add, "And, Sergeant, questions are good. Doubts are not. If you expect to survive in my command, you will keep the difference in mind."

  The squad leader snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."

  The officer waved him forward and
followed down the corridor at a run.

  Han came up behind Leia at the door to the Squibs' room.

  "Sweetheart?"

  Leia pressed her finger to the door buzzer and did not let it up.

  "Yes, dear?"

  "You weren't planning on slipping out a secret exit, were you?"

 

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