Star Wars - Jade Solitaire - Unpublished

by Timothy Zahn

  “Excuse me, folks—I’m looking for Talon Karrde.”

  Mara Jade looked up from the engine monitor, peripherally aware that, on the other side of the board, Chin was doing the same. The voice coming from the direction of the Wild Karrde’s bridge door was completely unfamiliar to her.

  As, she discovered, was the face that came with the voice. “Captain Karrde isn’t here at the moment,” Mara told the stranger, eyeing him narrowly. Just because they were in a familiar docking bay in a familiar port was no reason why strangers should be wandering loose around the ship. “How did you get in here?”

  The man waved vaguely behind him. “Oh, Dankin was back at the hatchway, and he let me in. Karrde and I are old friends—he and I go way back. Any idea when he’ll be showing up?”

  “I really couldn’t say,” Mara said, throwing a glance at Chin. Someone who went way back with Karrde should logically go way back with Chin, too, given how long the older man had been with the organization. But there was no recognition on Chin’s face, either. “If you’d like, you can leave a message.”

  The man sighed deeply. “No, I’m afraid that won’t do.” He waved toward the viewport behind them and the bustling spaceport scene beyond it.

  Abruptly, the back of Mara’s neck tingled with subtle warning. Her right hand dropped to the blaster holstered at her side—

  And froze there. The intruder’s waving hand had abruptly split open down the middle, revealing the blaster that had been hidden inside the prosthetic shell. “And I don’t have time to wait for him, either,” he said, his voice as unconcerned as ever. “My employer would like a word with all of you. He’d prefer you arrive undamaged, but he’d understand if that’s not possible.”

  Mara hissed softly between her teeth. On her own, she knew, she could take him easily, trick weapon or no. But she wasn’t alone, and Chin didn’t move nearly as fast as he used to. And whether by accident or design, the intruder’s weapon was pointed squarely at the older man. No, better to find out what this mysterious employer wanted and wait for a better opening. “I’d hate to disappoint him,” she said, lifting her hand away from her holster. “Especially after such a gracious invitation. Please; lead on.”

  Though if he had harmed any of the Wild Karrde’s crew getting inside, she promised herself darkly, her cooperation would be coming to a quick end. A painfully quick end.

  Fortunately for him, he hadn’t.

  “Sorry, Mara,” Dankin apologized, looking rather sheepish as he and the rest of the crew piled out of the group of black-windowed landspeeders in which their captors had brought them here. “They got the drop on us at the hatchway.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Mara said, glancing around as they were herded toward the side door of an ornate and well-guarded mansion. No indication as to who the owner was or even exactly where they were, though from the sounds of spacecraft in the distance they probably weren’t more than a few kilometers from the spaceport “Let’s see what all this is about. We can always get annoyed about it later.”

  They were ushered through the front door, up a staircase, and along a corridor to a huge office whose luxury level left the rest of the mansion in the dust. A group of chairs had been set up facing a massive desk that looked to be nearly half the size of the Wild Karrde’s entire bridge.

  And seated behind the desk, peering at them like a meat-buyer assessing a passing herd of bruallki, was a large, heavily-built man. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his voice penetrating the distance without giving any impression that he was even pushing the limits of his volume. “Please be seated.”

  “Your invitation was hard to Ignore,” Mara told him, choosing the chair directly in front of him and sitting down. “You might want to consider trying a more polite approach.”

  “If I’d had the time, I would have,” the round man said, glancing over them again. “Where’s Karrde?”

  “He’s not here,” Mara said. And not likely to bump into this meeting any time soon, either, she added silently to herself. He was over in the Gekto system making some shipping arrangements, and wasn’t due to return until tomorrow. She could only hope he wouldn’t be as easily nabbed as the rest of them had been. “I’m Mara Jade, currently in command of the Wild Karrde. What do you want?”

  The man’s eyes narrowed. Mara met his gaze evenly; and after a

  few seconds, his face cleared and he even smiled slightly. “Mara Jade. I’ve heard a great deal about you, young lady. Yes, you’ll do nicely.”

  Beside Mara, Dankin stirred as if he was about to speak. Mara shot him a quick glance, and he subsided. “Very good, indeed,” the large man murmured. “Perfectly in command, both of yourself and of your people. Yes, you’ll do.”

  He took a deep breath. “First, some introductions. My name is Ja Bardrin. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.”

  Mara kept her face steady, wincing inwardly at the ripple of surprise that ran through the rest of the crew. Of course they’d heard of the industrialist—half the sector had—but that was no reason to play into this false-modesty, ego self-stroking game of his. “I think I’ve noticed your name go by once or twice in a footnote,” she told him calmly. “Under weapons and ship systems, if I recall correctly. Usually dealing in market areas Uoti hasn’t gotten to yet.”

  She had the small satisfaction of drawing a flash of annoyance from him on that one. The Bardrin Group and the Uoti Corporate had been jockeying for market position and prestige for over two decades now, a rivalry that was deep and bitter and showed no signs of being resolved any time soon.

  Unfortunately, Bardrin’s brief flicker of anger subsided too quickly for her to use the lowered mental guard to pull any insight from his mind. “But enough of this chitchat,” she continued. “I’ll ask again: what do you want?”

  Bardrin locked eyes with her. “My daughter Sansia has been captured. I want you to rescue her.”

  Mara frowned, “I think your information sifters need a refresher course in how to do their job. We don’t handle military operations.”

  “The mission requires a woman ,” Bardrin said. “A resourceful, competent, combat-trained human female.”

  “So go hire a Mistryl.”

  Bardrin shook his head. “There’s no time to contact them, even if I knew how to go about it. I have to get Sansia back now, before her captors realize who it is they have.”

  “What are you talking about?” Odonnl spoke up. “You said they kidnapped her.”

  “I said they captured her,” Bardrin countered, pinning Odonnl into his chair with a single contemptuous glance. “Kindly pay attention.”

  He brought his gaze back to Mara. “She and the SoroSuub 3000 luxury yacht she was flying were taken by a pirate gang while in port on Makksre and given to a slaver consortium headquartered on Torpris and run by a Drach’nam named Praysh.” He lifted his eyebrows slightly. “I presume you’ve also come across that name in your footnote perusals.”

  “Once or twice,” Mara conceded, suppressing a grimace. In the circles the Wild Karrde moved in, the name of Chay Praysh was even more well-known than Bardrin’s. “I understand he makes the late and unlamented Jabba the Hutt look like a fine, upstanding citizen.”

  “Then you understand why I want Sansia and her ship out of his hands,” Bardrin said, his voice suddenly low and with an underlying edge of desperation. “I know Karrde would have been willing to help me; but Karrde’s not here. You. Jade, must make the decision.”

  “What about the authorities?” Dankin spoke up. “The Sector Patrol, or even the New Republic?”

  “And have them do what?” Bardrin shot back. “Request an audience with Praysh? Mount an attack
on his fortress that will leave it in ruins and everyone inside dead? Besides, their security leaks like rock sifters. If Praysh learns who Sansia is, he’ll bleed me for everything I own. And then kill her anyway.”

  He looked at Mara, an almost pleading look in his eyes. “Sansia will have been sent to work in the slime pits in his fortress,” he said. “He sends all human female captives there—some deep desire to humiliate them, I presume. You’ll have to get them to take you in as another prisoner—”

  “Wait a minute,” Mara cut him off. “I’ve already told you we don’t do this sort of work.”

  “Then you’d better learn how quickly,” Bardrin rumbled, his earlier desperation changing abruptly Into ominous threat. “There’s no time for me to get anyone else. You’re it.”

  Mara crossed her arms, bringing her hand close to the tiny blaster concealed inside her left sleeve. “And if I refuse?”

  “There are twenty-four blasters concealed in the walls of this room,” Bardrin said. “Three trained on each of you. Before you could even pull that weapon clear, you’d watch your crewmates die around you.”

  Mara flicked her eyes across the room, stretching out to the Force as she did so. He was right; she could sense the alert presences hidden behind the ornately carved walls all around them.

  And if she hadn’t been willing to risk Chin’s life earlier, she certainly wasn’t going to play games with the entire Wild Karrde’s crew now. “You didn’t answer my question,” she said, unfolding her arms.

  “You won’t refuse,” Bardrin declared, leaning back in his chair. “You see, you’ve just now given me all the leverage I need. You’ll go to Torpris and bring back Sansia and her ship… or I’ll execute your entire crew.”

  Someone off to her left inhaled sharply. “You can’t be that stupid,” Mara said, trying to put confidence she didn’t feel into her tone. Through the Force she could read Bardrin’s intentions, and knew he was deadly serious. “You kill Karrde’s people, and Karrde will come after you. And I guarantee he’s not an enemy to trifle with.”

  “Neither am I, my dear,” Bardrin said darkly. “A contest between us might prove quite Interesting.”

  He leveled a thick finger at her. “But regardless of the outcome, you would still have to live out your life with the knowledge that it was your obstinate stubbornness that had sent them to their deaths. I don’t think that’s a burden you really want to carry.”

  “There’s no need to be quite so melodramatic,” Mara said, forcing her frustration and anger deep down where it wouldn’t show. To find herself being so easily manipulated was infuriating.

  But she had no choice. She was Karrde’s second-in-command, and she’d seen the concern and respect he consistently showed toward his people. She wasn’t about to lower those high standards; and she certainly wasn’t going to risk her people’s deaths by refusing Bardrin. And everyone in the room knew it. “I’ll see what I can do. What can I have in the way of equipment?”

  “Anything you want,” Bardrin said, standing up and waving a hand. Behind them, Mara heard the doors open. “My people will escort your crewmates to their quarters, where they’ll remain until you and Sansia return. You and I will go make whatever arrangements you need.”

  “Fine,” Mara said, falling into step beside him as he passed between the entering lines of guards.

  But that didn’t mean the matter would end with Sansia’s rescue, she promised herself silently. Not by a long shot.

  Bardrin had told her that Praysh’s mansion and grounds were set up near the center of one of Torpris’s larger cities. He had failed to mention, however, that that particular section of the city was otherwise composed entirely of slums.

  Or at least that was how It seemed to Mara as she maneuvered her landspeeder down the winding streets toward the high walls of the compound, wincing at the garbage and debris piled in alleyways between the dilapidated buildings and trying not to hit any of the ragged derelicts shuffling along the street. A dozen different species were represented here, all looking equally hopeless, and she found herself wondering how much of it was a result of Praysh’s presence in the city.

  Passing one final clump of huddled beings, she reached the side door she’d been told to come to. Flanking it were a pair of Drach’nam guards, looking even more massive than usual for the species in their heavy body armor. Each of them held a neuronic whip, with a holstered blaster and long knife standing ready in reserve. “Hey, there,” she called cheerfully to them, eyeing the whips with the sort of contempt she reserved for unnecessarily barbaric weapons. “I have a package here for His First Greatness Chay Praysh, a gift from the Mrahash of Kvabja. May I enter?”

  There was an almost chuckle, quickly strangled off, from one of the guards. “Really,” he said, lumbering toward her. “Bring it here and let’s have a look.”

  Mara slid out of the vehicle and pulled the packing cylinder from the storage compartment in back. It was large—a good meter tall and half a meter in diameter—but fairly light, most of its bulk consisting of cushioning material for the delicate floater globe she’d borrowed from Bardrin. “It’s some kind of expensive art object, I think,” she said, setting it carefully down in front of him.

  “Oh, it’s that, all right,” the guard agreed, looking Mara up and down. “Just a minute.”

  He went back to the door and busied himself with an intercom panel built Into the wall. There was a breath of movement beside Mara—

  [Leave it and go,] an alien voice spoke quietly from behind her. Mara turned. A Togorian female was standing at the rear of the landspeeder, her fur matted and dirty, clearly just another of the derelicts loitering on the street. But her yellow eyes were bright and alive, and her teeth were bared slightly toward the guards. “Excuse me?” Mara asked.

  [I said leave it and go,] the alien said, mouthing the Ghi trade language words with some difficulty. [You are in great danger here.]

  “Oh, don’t be silly,” Mara said, shaking her head with casual unconcern even as she wondered at the Togorian’s courage in sticking her neck out this way. Clearly, she knew or suspected what happened to human females who wandered near Praysh’s fortress; but to try to chase a potential prize out from under the slaver’s snout this way bordered on the suicided. “I’m just delivering a present to His First Greatness, that’s all.”

  The Togorian hissed. [Fool—you are the present,] she snarled. [Flee, while you still can.]

  “Okay, we’re set,” the guard said, keying off the intercom and walking over to Mara. She turned back to him, making sure to keep a pleasantly blank expression on her face. If he even suspected the Togorian had tried to warn her, there might be unpleasant repercussions. “You can take it right in.”

  “Thank you,” Mara said, stooping to pick up the cylinder—

  A gauntleted hand came down with a thunk onto the top of the package. “After we unpack it, of course.”

  Mara felt her muscles tighten. “What do you mean?” she asked cautiously, straightening up.

  The guard already had his knife out, a nasty-looking serrated weapon with a handguard consisting of a scries of thick, needle-sharp spikes alternatively curving up and down from the base of the blade. “I mean we unpack it out here,” he said, digging the blade In beneath the lid. “Never can tell what someone might try to slip inside the packaging, you know.”

  Mara flicked a glance over his shoulder at the second guard, a sense of things gone suddenly and terribly wrong rippling through her. Nestled in its hiding place between the inner and outer shells of the cylinder, she would have bet heavily that her lightsaber could slip through any standard weapons scan Praysh’s guards might have put the package through. But unpacking it outside the fortress was not a possibility she’d expected. “But what if you break it?” she asked anxiously.

  “Don’t worry—we do this all the time,” the guard assured her. “H’sishi, I thought I told you scavengers you were supposed to stay behind the mark line.”

&nbs
p; [Your pardon,] the Togorian said, her tone almost groveling. [I saw the shiny metal—]

  “And hoped you could get first grabs, huh?” The guard finished slicing off the top and peeled away the first plate of packing foam. “Here you go, scavengers,” he called loudly, hurling the lid and the foam down the street.

  Abruptly, the gathered loiterers exploded into action, diving toward the flying pieces as if they were prize jewels instead of unwanted garbage. The guard continued digging down, throwing more foam plates into the melee, until he reached the floater globe at the center. “There it is,” he said, reaching in and carefully pulling out the globe. “Nice. Okay,” he added, handing the globe to Mara. “Now you can go in.”

  Mara swallowed, glancing down at the cylinder as the guard continued to unload the packaging from the bottom and throw out the pieces. She looked up—

  To find H’sishi’s yellow eyes steady on her. Mara felt her lip twitch; and then, to her surprise, the alien bared her teeth slightly, as if she’d found a hint she’d been searching for. There was a movement from the side, and Mara looked back just as the guard hefted the cylinder itself over his head and hurled it toward the seething, quarreling crowd.

  A dozen of the derelicts abandoned their fight for the foam scraps and charged toward the spot where it would land. But H’sishi was faster. With a single leap she got under the cylinder, snatching it into her arms and hissing a warning at the two or three who tried to grab it away. Another hiss, and the crowd reluctantly fell back.

  “I guess she really did want the shiny metal,” the guard said with a sneer. “Okay, human, let’s go.”

  Despite the fortress’s sleek and modern exterior, the interior was dark and decidedly dank, its twisting and rough-floored corridors clearly modeled on the hiding-tunnels much prized by Drach’nam on their homeworld. Mara didn’t bother to keep track of the route as her five-guard escort took her ever deeper into the fortress, concentrating instead on evaluating Praysh’s overall defense structure and gradually increasing the level of nervousness she was displaying in her body language and infrequent attempts at conversation. Her lightsaber was going to be severely missed; but even if she’d been able to smuggle the weapon inside, she’d already concluded that the best hope of getting out would be in Sansia’s impounded ship. Fighting their way back along the tunnels and out into the grounds was not an option she was interested in trying.