Honor Among Thieves: Star Wars

by James S. A. Corey

  “Then you should all make your offers to Hunter Maas quickly.”

  “I’ll give you fifty million credits for it right now,” Leia said. Han felt a moment of dizziness at the idea of such a sum. More than enough to pay off Jabba. More than enough to buy Jabba if he felt the need for a pet slug. He’d had no idea the rebels could put their hands on that kind of money.

  Hunter Maas’s eyes faded into something like pity. “Hunter Maas would like a planet. No less.”

  Leia’s smile twitched. She rubbed her chin like a man checking for stubble.

  “A planet?” she said.

  “What did you call it? ‘Totalitarian dictatorship’? Hunter Maas would like to be emperor of his own little world. Just one. Is it so much? The Emperor holds the power of life and death over half the galaxy. To give Hunter Maas one little world would mean freeing so very many people. Surely that trade would be fair?”

  “A hundred million credits and any ship in the Rebel fleet, but you have to take the deal now. Before you leave this room.”

  “A smallish planet. With many, many beautiful women.”

  “Fine,” Leia said. “You can have it.”

  “Poor, poor royal miss,” Hunter Maas said, patting her hand. The rat-bird hopped down to the table, chirruped, and defecated prodigiously. “You are lying. Hunter Maas understands. Take time to think. Hunter Maas will be making no decision for several days. There will be time for her to make a real offer.”

  “You can’t do this,” Leia said.

  “Hunter Maas cannot be stopped,” he said almost gently.

  “Oh, I think he can,” Scarlet said. “Captain Solo?”

  Han drew his blaster. The R3 droid squeaked in alarm and extruded a small electrical lead that sparked and crackled. Chewbacca bared his teeth and stepped forward. The droid and the rat-bird both moved back, but Hunter Maas curled his lips disdainfully.

  “Your Wookiee may kill Hunter Maas,” he said, “if you wish to see the Empire win. It will not matter to Hunter Maas. He will be dead! Is that what you want? To see the Empire win?”

  “Does it mean pulling your arms off?” Han asked. “Because then maybe.”

  “Let him go,” Leia said.

  No one moved except the rat-bird, and it crawled under Hunter Maas’s red-and-gold cape and blinked out at them malevolently. Scarlet’s eyes were narrow. Chewbacca growled deep in his throat.

  “I said let him go,” Leia said. “Put your weapons down and let the man go to his meetings.”

  Han clenched his jaw, but he put the blaster back in its holster. Chewbacca roared and pounded the table with his fist, leaving a dent. The Wookiee paced back to the corner to glower. Hunter Maas rose, stretched, and bowed to Leia.

  “You are as gracious to Hunter Maas as you are lovely, royal lady. Do not think I will forget you, oh no. Hunter Maas knows when a debt of honor is due. When I have the bids of the others, I will give you the opportunity to beat them.”

  “Thank you so much,” Leia said. Her sarcasm would have left blisters on a more sensitive man.

  “In truth, Hunter Maas would have been disappointed if you had not tried to intimidate him.”

  The little man blew Scarlet a kiss, flourished his cape, and swaggered from the room, the rat-bird hunched on his shoulder and the R3 rolling at his heels as if it was afraid of being left behind. For a long moment, the only sound was the muted music from the cantina.

  Leia leaned back in her seat, laced her hands behind her head, and said something obscene.

  “So,” Han said, turning to Scarlet. “That was the guy who got the data you were after?”

  “He got lucky.”

  “Oh, hey, no criticism here. There’s no shame in being beaten by a smooth operator like that. I mean, did you see his boots? They were shiny. No reason to be embarrassed just because you lost a sensitive operation to a shirtless man with shiny boots.”

  “You’re enjoying this.”

  “Just the part where that guy was better than you,” he said. “The rest of it scares the heck out of me.”

  Leia stood up and cocked an eyebrow. “All right. So. If he takes this to the Hutts or Black Sun, they’ll give him whatever he wants. Or the Empire will come rain fire on all our heads. Or they’ll get to this device, wherever it is, and none of this will have mattered at all.”

  “What lovely alternatives,” Scarlet said.

  “So we steal it from him,” Leia said.

  “Give me until morning,” Scarlet said. “I’ll need to find where he’s staying. If it’s in his ship, that will actually be easier. If he’s put himself in the care of the conclave hive … trickier, but possible. They’ve put a lot of thought into keeping people safe and information private.”

  “All right,” Leia said. “I’ll be making a series of panicky calls to the Alliance, arguing over how much we can offer him.”

  “Why?” Han asked.

  “So that he thinks we’re still at the negotiating table,” Leia said. “As long as he believes he’s winning, we’re on the right track.”

  “And what do you want us to do?” Han asked, nodding toward Chewbacca.

  “Be his bodyguard,” Leia said. “Make sure no one kills him before we get this information.”

  Chewbacca’s outraged howl filled the room.

  “I don’t like it any better than you do,” Leia said, her chin tilted all the way up to look the Wookiee full in the face. “But I don’t have a choice. Hunter Maas is a terrible, stupid, venal little man who is playing way out of his league. He’s probably going to get himself killed, but he’s got the upper hand right now. If the Empire gets a power like this—or Black Sun does, or the Hutts—it will mean the end of all freedom in the galaxy forever.”

  Scarlet nodded, her expression grim.

  “So,” Han said, “what’ll it mean if we get it?”

  THE CONCLAVE HIVE HAD four different classes of accommodation. For the attendees of the conference with the greatest number of people and the greatest power, there were seven private buildings where the administrators could simply hand over the passkeys and give people control over—and responsibility for—their own security. Down from that were high-security cells, hardly better than prison, with guards and surveillance and a constant patrol of small, flying droids armed with blasters and strict orders about who could and couldn’t walk the hallways. The third were private sleeping rooms available for rent inside the conclave hive itself, convenient to the meeting rooms and bars. And the last were dormitory bunks for groups of soldiers or multi-bodied hive-mind pods that didn’t mind being packed into tight spaces with no privacy.

  Han wasn’t at all surprised to see Hunter Maas sauntering toward the third-class rooms. A man who needed a droid and a rat-bird for his entourage wasn’t going to accept the worst rooms, and he couldn’t afford the best. Han slumped under a massive, slick-trunked tree across an open courtyard, cleaning his fingernails and watching through a great glass wall as Hunter Maas negotiated with the droid responsible for portioning out the rooms. Scarlet’s voice came to him, thin and tinny.

  “All right,” she said. “I’ve got him. You can step away.”

  Han didn’t answer directly, but turned his back to the accommodations suite and walked along the pathway through the hive. A crowd of thin-faced, mean-looking humans scowled at him as he passed a little garden. Han touched his forehead in mock salute and didn’t break stride.

  It was nearing midnight in Talastin City, and the foot traffic in the conclave hive had a furtive feel. People moving between one clandestine rendezvous and another, eyeing one another warily. Everyone trying to see who was nearby without themselves being seen. Right now, everything was for sale on Kiamurr. Weapons and drugs and slaves, loyalty and betrayal. And, thanks to Hunter Maas, the future of the galaxy. The bad thing was that it meant shadowing Hunter Maas had been tricky. The good thing was that it had been possible, and with Han and Scarlet working together to trade off observing and protecting their target, t
hey’d managed without being spotted.

  “Hey,” a voice whispered. Han glanced over. A rail-thin Noghri with a heavy brow and permanently bared teeth hissed, “I’m looking for transponder IDs. You selling IDs?”

  “I’m not selling anything, sister. I’m just a peaceful-minded civilian on a walk,” Han said. She smiled and nodded. They were both lying, and they both knew it. At least they could be cheerful about it.

  “We’re clear,” Scarlet said in his ear. “He’s paid up and they’ve assigned him a room. Head back in.”

  “What about his droid?”

  “He took it in with him,” Scarlet said. “The common area’s clear.”

  “Not leaving it as a sentry? Wow,” Han said. “This guy really is an amateur.”

  “I think I’d mentioned that.”

  “It’s just that you’re such a professional. Still trying to figure how you lost to him.”

  “Haven’t lost yet. Still playing,” she said.

  Han angled his way back down the path and toward the accommodations suite. Behind him, he heard the Noghri talking to someone else, asking for IDs she almost certainly didn’t need. When he got back to his place at the tree, Scarlet was framed by the glass wall. She’d altered her hair and changed her stance in some small, subtle, and extremely effective way. She was wearing the same dark pants, the same gray blouse, but she looked like an entirely different woman. The soldier of fortune was gone, and a friendly tourist had taken her place. He wasn’t sure how she did that, but he was getting the feeling that she found it useful to be underestimated. He paused at the tree until she twisted away from the droid, smiled, and waved him over.

  He crossed the courtyard with a sense of being vulnerable. There were too many places around here for someone to hide. That he was one of the people looking to sneak through it only made him more aware of the fact.

  “This is him,” Scarlet told the droid as Han walked up. “He seriously wanted us to spend the whole trip on the same ship we came here in. Can you imagine anything so utterly boring?”

  “I’m sure the gentleman had his reasons,” the droid said.

  “I did,” Han said. “They were good reasons, too. Very … reasonable.”

  Scarlet frowned a little, and Han lifted his hands. What did you want me to say?

  “He was going on about how much safer we’d be onboard ship,” Scarlet said.

  “Yes,” Han said, catching on. “Yes, I was. And I’m still not convinced by the security here. We have sensitive documents. For business. I don’t want to see them lost just so we can have a bigger bunk.”

  “No need for concern,” the droid said, shaking its silver-gray head. “The rooms here are securely sealed from the time our guests leave until they return. Not even service droids, if you’d like. Though that does reduce the amenities, of course.”

  “Not good enough,” Han said, starting to get into the role. “I need absolute assurance that my sensitive documents aren’t going to be disturbed.”

  “In addition,” the droid went on, “for a very reasonable fee, encryption-locked safes are available in every room. They can even be set for automatic purge in case of an attempted intrusion.”

  Han scowled and looked at Scarlet. He raised his eyebrows. I don’t know. What else do you want?

  “It’s perfect,” Scarlet said, handing the droid a credit chit. “We’ll take it.”

  “My gratitude, madam,” the droid said. “You will be in 17-C. If you have any concerns, please only ask.”

  Scarlet put her arm around Han’s again as she had in the ballroom, and he pulled it back out, unwilling to be steered. Scarlet’s smile was merry. They walked down a short, broad hallway of laser-cut stone. Scarlet tapped her fingertips together, her eyes scanning the other rooms as they passed. Han didn’t ask what she was thinking about. Seventeen-C was a wide room with a low ceiling. The bed was larger than the bunks in the Falcon, but by less than he’d expected. Scarlet made a quick pass through the place, then opened the closet and accessed the safe. It chirped, accepted her credit chit, and clacked open.

  “How’s it look?” Han asked.

  “Good and bad,” she said. “Magnetic locks. It’s just a mechanism, not a droid, so none of the programming workarounds apply. I want to see if I can get any information on the encryption unit.”

  A brilliant white light bloomed around her, sparks like stars cascading down. Han yelped in surprise and jumped toward her. Scarlet turned to him, concerned.

  “Are you all right?” Han asked.

  “Sure. I’m just trying to get to the encryption unit,” she said, and held up a tiny matte-black tube. “Welding torch.”

  “Oh,” Han said. “Right. Carry on.”

  The brilliant light came back, and the smell of hot metal. Han lay back on the bed.

  “For what it’s worth,” Scarlet said, “I think she’s very lucky.”

  “Who is?”

  “The Princess.”

  “You do? She just watched her world be destroyed by Darth Vader, and now her begging-for-money mission turned into a get-the-dangerous-information-before-the-Imperial-fleet-slags-the-planet mission. I don’t see how you get any less lucky than her without breaking bones.”

  “Mmm,” Scarlet said.

  Han twisted on the bed, looking at her over his shoulder. “Why? What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing. Here, hold this,” she said, tossing the little welding torch to him. She leaned into the closet. Something groaned and there was a loud ping. She came out with a triumphant expression and a small glowing green square the size of her palm. “Korrison-Mout model eighty.”

  “Is that good?”

  “It’s better than good, it’s possible. I’m going to need to get the door-seal protocols, too. Hold on.”

  She sat on the bed beside him and pulled up the computer. The screen displayed a simple login, and she took a small gray chip out of her pocket and slid it into the access port with an audible click. The screen froze, shuddered, and a stream of complex data started scrolling up. Han sat upright, cross-legged. Scarlet tapped the keyboard. A simple prompt appeared. She started typing.

  “He got lucky,” Scarlet said.

  “Who?”

  “Hunter Maas. He was working on Galassian’s estate as a gardener. He talked one of the security detail into doing something stupid, and then when it went south, he left her to get burned for it.”

  “Sounds like she made a bad choice in partners.”

  “She wasn’t as narcissistic as Maas, but she was just as overconfident. I don’t know what it is about people that they find their own level.”

  “Well, the smart people try not to work with idiots, and the idiots don’t know any better,” Han said. “Makes sense to me.”

  “Do you think they know whether they’re the smart kind or the idiots?”

  “Nope,” Han said. “Hunter Maas is in his room convinced that he’s got the galaxy by the hair. The stupidest ones are always sure they’re smart.”

  “So we could both be idiots who just think we’re competent?” Scarlet asked, picking up the encryption unit and reading something printed along its side.

  “We know the Imperial fleet’s lost a ship that was chasing our boy Hunter. And they know what he’s selling. We’re on the same planetary hemisphere with that moron. I’m pretty sure we’re stupid.”

  Scarlet tapped the keyboard twice. “He’s in 24-D. Sole access, keyed to his voice.”

  Han sighed and sat up. “I’ll go make sure no one kills him.”

  “I’ll figure out how to steal his stuff.”

  “Then can we leave?”

  “Oh my, yes,” Scarlet said.

  “So maybe we’re not that stupid.”

  The door hissed open before him and closed again with a snap. Han rubbed his palms together and sauntered down the hallway, trying to look innocuous. The doors to the other rooms followed only the most general of numbering schemes, so it took Han several minutes to fin
d the hallway with the doors marked 24. It was a little shabbier than the 17s, with worn tiles on the floor and a crack in the pale wall. He had to wonder if the droid that assigned the accommodations had taken a dislike to Hunter Maas.

  Where the corridor ended, there was a small atrium with a pair of couches built into the walls. Han sat on one, adjusting his position until he could see the edge of 24-D’s doorway, but someone coming out unexpectedly wouldn’t be able to see his face. He checked his blaster. It was charged. He sat back and prepared to wait. It was already past midnight. Even if Scarlet found a way in, it would probably mean waiting until Hunter Maas was out at his next meeting. Han wondered where exactly the man had hidden the information when he was meeting with Leia. He hadn’t gone back to his ship before coming here, and Han didn’t think he was the kind of person who let something important get too far from his hand. Maybe he’d had a datachip sewn into his cape.

  A maintenance droid hummed down the corridor, nodded to Han, and continued on its way. Han traced patterns in the grain of the polished stone walls and counted the leaves on the ferns and ivy that struggled to make the waiting area seem natural and welcoming. His leg fell asleep.

  The first time the sound came, Han wasn’t certain that he’d heard it. A gentle ticking, like a pebble being thrown against a window. The second time, he was listening for it. The third time, he drew his blaster and stood up. It wasn’t coming from the same hallway as Hunter Maas’s room, but from the next one down. Han peeked around the corner in time to see something at the far intersection. A shape that ducked out of sight before he could tell what he was looking at. Someone else was in the corridors, and they didn’t want to be seen any more than he did.

  He opened a connection.

  “Scarlet?”

  “Han?”

  “Everything all right with you?”

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “Nothing, maybe. But you’re all right?”