This is a big one. I'm not going to lie. This was the first fic I ever did, so it reads like one of my normal stories, just with characters that I didn't create. Whether this is a good thing or not you'll have to decide.
A few introductory notes, then. I'll try to keep the rambling down to a minimum.
Characters: Wolverine is an amalgamation of the movie and comic book versions, although the basics are the same so it shouldn't throw too many people off.
Han Solo is . . . sort of the movie version. Or at least how I remember him. I don't read the Expanded Universe stuff and thus know nothing about his early life. So I basically made it all up from scratch because it worked better for the story. So if you're going to write me an angry message telling me about how such and such I wrote is contradicted by this or that book . . . the kindest possible way I can put this is that I don't care. It does take place before the movies, however, to make my life easier.
Obviously, they and all related characters (Star Wars, X-Men, etc) are not owned by me and I was just briefly playing in the sandbox. Everyone else was either already part of my repertory or I made up entirely for the story. Which means that the spaceport and basically every alien and/or incidental character you come across is mine.
I set the tale in my little universe, so there's a lot of background reference to events that were currently going on at the time. None of these should break the story, but if you're curious about any side references, by all means, ask. I didn't want the story to be all exposition so I try to explain as we go along and hope everyone catches up.
And this is turning into rambling. I'll try to have other notes for the other sections. Rest assured it is finished, although it may take me a bit to post it. It's long!
So with that said, let me get out of the way, barring one brief dedication, if you'll indulge me . . .
For Lauren, who inadvertently gave me the idea and put up with all the funny names, for showing patience when I started to get too clever for my own good, and for applauding in all the right spots. But mostly, for not at any point thinking this was nuts, even when I did.
Now, are we all sitting comfortably? Let's begin!
The air was soaked in smoke, curling around every hooked word.
". . . been sitting there for an hour, hasn't said a word . . ."
Punctuated with barked spiked sounds that could have been laughter, the sudden thud of flesh on bone, the slap of a deal being made.
". . . just walked in, never seen him before, some flatlander asked him to move and he just took his hand and . . ."
Glasses clinked, tubes hummed, the scrape of a face thrown taut against the wood, flailing and tilted.
". . . been trying to scan him and, pal, you've got to see this . . ."
Music burbled in circular chords, trying to hold back the latent violence that shivered overhead and around.
". . . look at him, just, he's so small, that's what you're afraid of . . ."
Bodies crashed together in peripheral dances, motions that were both expected and inevitable, out of time with a hiccupping that was coming from every corner.
". . . probably a trooper gone missing, they all come here to hide . . ."
At the bar, two hands thumped wetly on the counter.
"Aye, debris," the bartender's trunk twitched as he said it, "you find a drink here? Or find space to consume? Decide soon, jaggy, or." The dark coinpits of his eyes flashed, reflecting laser fire that could be buried in the smoke, or a memory from some time ago.
". . . that's him, over there, that's the guy . . ."
The man in question stirred, his gaze flicking with a rapid focus from nowhere in particular to the bartender. His eyes seemed older than the rest of his face, piercing and set. Leaning forward, he regarded the bartender with a coiled ease, the smudged polish of the counter still managing to reflect the hard angles of his features, right down to the controlled and pointed sweep of his hair.
"Sure," he said, in a friendly drawl, "what's the house specialty?" He shifted a bit on the stool, causing the dark leather in his jacket to creak slightly. His hands were flat on the counter, fingers facing the bartender, and very still.
The bartender blinked with milky membranes, pink skin flushing slightly. His fleshy lips curled briefly upwards behind the mass of his proboscis. "Ah. Ah. Taste, you know them all, eh? Been here, been there, all the scattered zones. And back, even?" The man only inclined his head in what might have been acknowledgement. The bartender leaned forward, preparing to share a great secret. The man didn't move back, but one of his hands twitched. "No taste, this scum here. Drink whatever squizz gets placed before. No taste, spacedust they. Ah, but siryou. Sir . . ."
The man raised an eyebrow, his only concession.
". . . rumors that the shutdown is going to come any day now . . ."
Slippery hands ducked under the bar, came up with a squat glass filled with a dark liquid. He had barely seemed to pour it. "The vine-pits of Choinodos, fresh from, with heads. Heads that ring and leak, yolly all. And cringus, they know, if you know . . ." his lips pulled back from stained teeth in what might have been a smile. "Gets this, gets you. For you . . ." his fingers caressed the lip of the cup, smearing the glass. He slid it forward. "Go on."
". . . telling you, what are we going to do, the whole situation is . . ."
"On the house?" the man asked, taking the glass tentatively. Lifting it to his face, he swirled it a bit, giving it a light sniff.
"Aye, yolly."
". . . do? For starters I was thinking of just walking right up to him and . . ."
"Well, then," the man said, tipping it forward in a toast. His elbow was on the bar, with the knuckles of his hand only inches away from the bartender's face. "You don't leave me any choice but to . . ."
"Ah, don't, pal . . ." and he was there suddenly, razorfast and ramshackle, putting his hand over the top of the cup. Leaning up against the bar, he regarded the other man with a tilted head and slightly cocky grin. His hand never wavered, even as the other's eyes narrowed just a fraction. "You really don't want to do that. Trust me."
"You got a reason for butting in?" he asked, his gaze taking in the length of the newcomer, the scruffy black and white contrast of his shirt-vest combination, his round face and unruly mop of hair and especially the pistol that dangled almost laconically from his belt.
"Just a concerned citizen looking out for his fellow man," the newcomer offered with a shrug.
"You hear, Solo. An airlock, go. Not here." The bartender finished with a cross between a snort and a guffaw but the end of his trunk was twitching. His eyes kept flickering back and forth between the two of them without being willing to rest anywhere. "Jaggy your word, less than prisms . . ."
"Oh, can the routine, Gokul," Solo shot back, leaning further against the bar. By this time the other man was lowering his glass, giving Solo a chance to remove his hand from the vicinity. "See, pal, our fair bartender here, he sees you, realizes he's never seen you before, thinks you're an easy mark. Gives you a brew from the farflung reaches of Choinodos, makes you think you've stumbled onto something special. Right?"
The bartender was already reaching for the glass, trying to slide it away with his trunk. With a quick motion, Solo pounded on the appendage, causing him to cough and draw it back sharply. "Thing is, place is quarantined from all space routes. Nobody leaves there, nobody goes there. And nobody . . ." he grabbed the cup, brought it up to his face so that the edges of his features were flattened and distorted when seen through it, ". . . is getting this cheap garbage from there."
"It's good, is good. Speak as it is, gully now." By this time Gokul had turned a shade of reddish blue and was shaking slightly. "Empire, no, won't see, won't care."
Solo laughed quietly. "Come on, let's not be cute." Turning back to the man, he said, "You see-"
"It was drugged." This came out offhanded, the man wasn't even staring at them but toward a spot on the shrouded ceiling, now flush with a mix of dingy multicolored smoke. There was a vague frown on his face.
Solo folded his arms over his chest, looking pleased. "Well."
The other man shrugged, his eyes everywhere but them. "I've never been here before. That doesn't mean I'm an idiot."
"So you'll be taking off soon, then." The other man didn't react. Solo risked moving a little closer. "Pushing off into the next port of call, hm?"
The man glanced over his shoulder. "You're awful nosy. That's probably a habit you want to break yourself out of."
"You're here by yourself," Solo said suddenly, the smile gone from his face. "You're not part of any crew, because you've only been here a day or so and I know everyone who's come in that time. So you're either a freelancer between jobs, or you're lost."
With deadly slowness the man turned around. Even perched on the stool he wasn't nearly as tall as Solo was standing. One hand kept clenching and unclenching, finding its own flexibility. Compact as he was, there was a tautness in him waiting to be uncoiled.
In the face of it, Solo only smiled beatifically. "Am I close?" Without waiting for an answer he extended his hand. "Han Solo, nice to meet you."
The other man didn't return the gesture or offer his name. The bartender seemed to relax as he realized that neither man was paying attention to him anymore, his hands loosening their grip from around his trunk. Even so, he stepped a few inches back from the bar.
"What exactly do you want?" Almost as an afterthought he added, "Pal."
"Good, a man who gets right down to business. I like that." He clapped his hands together. "I'm going to lay it out for you straight. I'm a trader . . ." the chuckle that came from the back of the bar wasn't a laugh at all but a patron with a segmented face pouring a long tube down one of its pores. Solo let himself look wounded anyway. ". . . a trader about to go on a run through some dangerous territory. My partner had to go back home temporarily, so I'm down a man." He studied the man's face for some kind of clue but couldn't find any.
Then he started to get down off the stool. "So you're lonely. That's not my problem."
"Listen." Solo's arm darted out to grab the man by his forearm. Suddenly there were rods tensing under his skin that almost made Solo pull back entirely. The man only glared at him, the order silent but clear. Not that it stopped him. "You're alone out here and looking for a way off. Right now I'm the best offer you're going to get unless you want to stow away or ride a slaver." He removed his hand but the man didn't turn away. "You watch my back, I watch yours, we get through the run. No drudge work, you ride on my ship, you're part of my team, not my servant. A hundred credits up front, two hundred when we reach final port. From there you can use that to hire any liner you want to get where you need to go." He settled back again, the grin sliding over his face. "Like I said, best offer you're going to get, today or any day. What do you say?"
The man looked away quickly but when he glanced back at Solo his eyes were intent, studying every detail to an uncomfortable degree. "How long is the run?"
"Couple days at best. There's nothing faster than my ship." Another coughed laugh from across the room, smoke wove above them as a discarded snake. Voices counted down numbers as chants, flared with decay.
"What are you transporting?" Solo tensed, hearing the decision bearing on his answer to that question. He rubbed his hands together, slid them into his pockets, laid back cocky and casual. The other man held himself tense, ready to spring forward or disappear in a second, at any second. Or so it felt.
"Spices." He was watching him so closely, this man. Close without getting closer. "Where we're going, they're in demand but the season only lasts for a cycle. By the time everyone gets there, it's over. Everyone but me. But us."
"Us?" One fingernail is scraping against the bar, precise and poised.
"You've already accepted," Solo said, letting himself relax a little. "Or you would have walked out by now. You're just waiting for me to realize it." He went to clap the man on the shoulder, thought better of it. "Welcome aboard."
"Yeah," was all the man said, the word diffuse and offhand. Two ruffians with bulbous eyes were choking each other, but Solo knew it was just ritual. That was how they passed information to each other, via hard touch. The bartender had slid over to the next patron, trying to convince a creature without a visible mouth to imbibe. He seemed to be making progress.
"Let's go, then, we don't want to waste any-" Maybe it was the skittery noises outside, somehow cutting through the din. Or the hairs on the back of his neck. Or another sense without a name, setting off alarm bells in his head.
Whichever, it was no warning at all.
With a sound like a rocket failing, the door flashed grey and burst open, smoke flooding in to mingle with the darker ambient smoke.
"What?" "What?" "What?" Piercing, it was a scream that went right through the back of the brain, shouting down all other hails. Figures moved in the haze, trudging in without hesitation or friction, the white of their armor a contrast against the dimness of the bar. Entirely cloaked, their helmets were curved and revealed nothing of the faces underneath. A slit ran across it where the eyes would have been, opaque and searching. Six of them stepped inside, with more taking positions behind them. All were carrying rifles, the barrels of which were pointed up at the patrons. Primed, the pitched whining of the weapons suggested a violence that strode in ready and was perhaps eagerly waiting.
"Empire!" came the shout and a gnarled brown being, his body seemingly covered in rustling leaves, broke and made for the back of the room. In an easy motion the nearest trooper rang out a shot, the beam passing almost silently through the man. A portion of his chest hit the far wall as light droplets and he fell with barely a whimper.
Near Solo, the man clenched his fist, his mouth drawn in a tight line.
"Where is he?" the lead soldier demanded, the helmet muffling the voice but not the malevolence. "He was seen here and was not seen leaving, so we know he's inside. Do not make us guess or we will shoot every piece of scum in this hole to be sure."
"Give us a name, and maybe we can help." The speaker had a round face and tusks, dressed in dusted leather. "Easy, right? No need for violence. No need."
"No deals, no bargaining. No offers." The soldier twitched his left hand and the man who had spoken suddenly fell backwards off the chair, smoke rising from his face. "Show us Han Solo, now." Rifles swept the room, soldiers pervading the room with swift efficiency.
The other man's eyes grew wide and he stared at Solo, who was turned around and leaning against the bar, both arms pressed down on it. He seemed to sense the man glancing at him and shook his head, ever so slightly.
"Come now," the lead soldier sneered, although the effect was lost without being able to see his face. "You've got no loyalty among you, no reason to lie or hide him. I know you, you value your lives over everything else. Over everyone else. He'd sell you out in a heartbeat, given the chance." He stopped, trained his rifle on a man with mottled skin and eyes stacked one over the other on his face. "Every last one."
"Here." All the soldiers turned as one to face the source of the call. The bartender was pointing with his trunk toward the end of the counter. "There he's stally, sit there, rest. Over." Without turning, Solo dipped his head a little bit and sighed.
"It's him." One soldier was already moving across the room when another spoke. "I saw his holo once."
"Okay, it's me." Hands raised to shoulder level, Solo turned around, his expression slightly exasperated. "You've got me, although I'm not sure what you want with me." It was said with all the innocence he could muster.
"Oh, we'll explain it to you in great detail later. You'll have plenty of time to ask all the questions you want." A third had joined them, while others remained on the other side of the bar to prevent anyone from leaving. "You won't be going anywhere for some time."
"Isn't that nice," Solo shot back sarcastically. Slowly he lowered his hands so that his palms were braced on the bar. The lasers were trained on his chest, but he barely radiated concern. The other man seemed to be watching both sides of the exchange carefully, his hands kept loosely at his sides. "But before you take me away, I'm only going to ask one favor of you."
"Fine, Solo," the lead trooper said, sounding amused.
Solo inclined his head to the left. "Leave my partner alone, okay? He didn't do anything."
The other man stared at Solo in stunned silence, his lips mouthing "What?" as half the guns swung about to cover him as well.
"You're with Solo?" the demand came.
"Yeah, who says I'm hard to work with?" With a smooth motion Solo produced the laser that he had hidden behind his back earlier, squeezing off two quick shots on the troopers that were still covering him, already moving even as they fell to the floor, guns dropping with a clatter and smoke rising from shattered helmets and burn marks on the armor. "Move it, pal!"
"Get them both!" But the other man was already in motion, weighted and impossibly fluid, reaching out with one hand to force the nearest soldier's weapon down and using the other hand to punch him in the face at the same time. There was a crack as his helmet shattered and he went reeling backwards even as the man, a certain fire in his eyes, shifted to the next one, his next action seemingly planned out before the first was done. He grabbed the rifle before it hit the floor, reversed his grip on it and swung it at the next trooper, breaking it against his armor.
Two down, but more were piling in, and beginning to fire indiscriminately. Solo picked off a few shots, tagging some as they came in the doorway. Soon the air became too thick with laser fire and he flipped over the bar, landing roughly on the floor, pistol held closely to his body. The bar shuddered as something heavy thudded into it and a man made a noise like choking. Laser fire gouged into the surface above him, sending tiny chips raining down. A few feet away, the bartender was cowering, occasionally peeking over the top.
Solo crawled a ways down the bar, swearing under his breath. The floor was just as dirty as he might have imagined, discarded garbage and scrunched debris that he had no wish to identify. Above the din had resolved into a screaming roar bracketed by cages of laser blasts. He couldn't tell how many troops had entered the bar now, all the shouts were mingling together, the bar not shielding him from the chorus at all.
Suddenly a shadow passed overhead, shaped into a point. Rolling slightly, the other man landed lightly and deftly, coming to rest easily in a crouch. He was breathing fast but evenly, his hair matted down against his head. There were spots of soot streaking his face but he otherwise showed no sign he'd been in a fight. Or was still in a fight, as the bar rattled again and a hand dangled down, limp and unmoving.
His gaze immediately found Solo and there was a simmering anger lurking inside. "Know what's good to know when you're being hired?" Solo eased his weapon so that it was in front of him but otherwise said nothing. "Whether your employer is being hunted or not."
"I may have left out a few details," Solo admitted. "But we really didn't have time to go into all the small stuff. There'll be plenty more to discuss when we get back to my ship, so just stick with me and-"
"With you?" The man looked prepared to throttle Solo right there. His voice was a razor edged whisper, slicing through the blossoming carnage beyond them. "All you've done so far is get me shot at."
"That's a pity." Solo frowned. "You didn't seem like the type of man who would go back on a deal." The man twitched and he wondered how far back he'd have to move to stay out of his reach. Fortunately he had short arms. "Besides, that's not true. I kept you from overpaying for a drink."
The man's eyes narrowed. "You can go find another idiot to-"
"The thing is . . ." Solo shifted so that his legs were underneath him, ready to move. "The only other exit is through the back." He pointed in that direction with the barrel of his gun. "So unless you want to take your chances with fighting every stormtrooper they can cram into this place . . ." he spread his arms in the limited space and smiled slyly. ". . . looks you're stuck with me for a bit longer."
The man looked ready to snarl back a vicious response when he suddenly looked up. The laser beam ricocheted off the floor between them, forcing Solo to first dive back and then slide out, his pistol leading the way. But the man leapt upwards like cloth unfurling, one hand closing around the soldier's throat while he made a fist and pressed his knuckles against the trooper's chest. His attacker jerked as the man, his face grim, twisted his fist against the armor. A second later he yanked his hand away as the man went limp, the top of it now covered in bright smears of blood. He shoved the body away and prepared to duck down again, a question for Solo on his lips.
Just then another soldier popped up and fired, the beam striking the man squarely in the ribs. With a choked "ah" the man spun and flailed, failing to hit anyone on his way down.
"No!" Solo yelled, rolling further out into open and squeezing off two barely aimed shots. The first glanced off the armor but the second hit the soldier directly in the face, and he fell away abruptly.
Solo scuttled toward the man, whose eyes were closed and his face turned away, moving aside his jacket to get a closer look at the wound. It was red and raw, mostly cauterized but with some blood leaking out from the edges. It looked bad, laying the skin open almost to the bone. Solo frowned as he peered at it, noting that something didn't look right. In fact, it looked as if . . .
A hand suddenly clamped down on Solo's wrist, shoving his arm away. Surprised, he looked up to see the other man staring at him, while his free hand pulled the jacket down to cover the wound. "You were saying about an exit?"
"Yeah," Solo replied, without expression. Nearby there was the sound of more boots stomping into the building. "This way."
With Solo leading, the two of them continued crawling behind the bar. The bartender was ahead of them, pressing himself against the wall as much as he could, although whether it was to make himself a smaller target or to avoid them wasn't certain. His eyes seemed rounded and his skin paler and there were several scorch marks on the wall near him. Solo passed him by without comment.
The other man, in a motion so casual it seemed practiced, reached out and punched the bartender squarely in the face. His trunk stiffened and he went slightly cross-eyed before slumping to the floor.
Solo glanced back at him, one eyebrow raised. Shrugging, the other man said, "I meant to do that before."
"I knew there was a reason I hired you," Solo said, unable to resist a grin. The other man frowned and said nothing else.
Seconds later they reached the end of the bar. A few laser shots streaked past the gap between the bar and the room beyond, and Solo jumped back, nearly crashing into the other man. Even with the brief brush he was startled by how solid the man felt.
"You know," he said, taking a moment to find his footing again, "we've almost gotten killed together, but I still don't know your name."
"Logan." Even said quickly there was still lingering hesitation in his voice, like he had been about to say something else.
"Well, Logan, it's a pleasure . . ." he said over his shoulder, darting across the distance. As he tumbled from space to space he caught a glimpse of the rest of the bar. Troopers were stalking the smoke-choked common area like white phantoms, the room occasionally lit by refracted laser light. Darkened bodies stumbled through the murk, some haphazardly returning fire. Voices called out, in shouts, in other languages, too many silenced before the final words were expelled.
He had his laser up and ready even as he catapulted into the other room, nearly careening into boxes and assorted objects he couldn't make out in the dimness. A second later Logan arrived, as he had expected, hugging the wall and staring out into the carnage like a man haunted.
"They're killing everyone in there." His voice was flattened and dead. He kept closing his hand into a fist and opening it again.
"Yeah." It was the only real reply he had. Immediately he had moved to the back of the small room, his hands feeling along the walls. "Make sure they don't spot us." One time he had seen someone sneak out this way, it had to be around here somewhere.
Logan didn't answer but his posture seemed to be leaning forward, as if he was ready to plunge back into the room again. Solo silently vowed to not rescue him if he became that stupid. Whatever the reason was, they were out for blood in there.
"What are you looking for?"
"There's a hidden door over here . . . for people who are looking to be inconspicuous, they slip the bartender a few credits and out they go." He frowned, running his fingers along the stone. "But there's a recessed switch that opens it and . . ."
"A few inches up from where your left hand is."
Almost automatically Solo moved his hand and with a quiet click the wall suddenly slid open. As the dank outside air washed in, Solo stared at Logan, who hadn't moved from his position in the archway. Across the room, his eyes seemed to catch the light and hold it ever so slightly.
"Let's go," Solo said brusquely, and left.
*****
"Who were they?"
They had emerged in a narrow alley behind the bar and into the night cycle of the port. The buildings around them were squat and dirty, while the ground underfoot was metal, clanging dully as they moved across it. The air around them had a sterile odor to it, tinged with hints of oil and dust. Above the sky opened up wide, curving in star saturated darkness, with the occasionally streak of a passing craft. Somewhat distant a few blocky ships hovered overhead, beyond the shield, waiting for docking ports to open up.
Solo peeked around a corner, pistol held close to his chest. Logan was inches behind him but he could barely tell he was there at all.
"Stormtroopers." Seeing the way clear he motioned for Logan to follow, darting across to the other side. The streets seemed oddly deserted, even for the night cycle, especially since the port took ships in all the time. More unsavory business might be done at that time but there was still a certain bustle to the place.
"Stormtroopers." He pronounced it like he was testing the word out. "Don't they sound pleasant."
"Muscle for the Empire." Sensing another question, he added, "I don't know what they're doing all the way out here though. Technically it's controlled territory, but we're on the fringes. A lot of others use this port as well, so the Empire has always stayed hands-off here to avoid starting trouble with someone they don't want to mess with."
"Apparently they're here for you."
"So it seems," Solo said, frowning, waving a hand as they dashed between two more buildings. They were moving into the warehouse districts now, where the buildings were set up more in a grid. Droids rattled past in silence, not paying them any heed. "All the way out here," he muttered to himself as he hugged the wall. "And not normally this vicious, either."
"And you've got no idea why that might be?"
Solo shrugged without looking back. "Your guess is as good as mine." Thinking he heard a noise, he held for a minute, one hand up to halt Logan. When the moment passed without incident he said, "Wait, weren't you the one telling me I ask too many questions?"
He could almost hear the man bristle. "When people start shooting at me, I start getting curious."
"Fair enough." Solo turned to face him, and noticed that the shadows seem to drape over him somehow, and take him further in. "You could walk away though."
"Wouldn't matter, they know my face, they think I'm with you. They're looking for me just the same."
"And you have nowhere else to go." There was no flicker of reaction on Logan's face, but Solo knew it was true just the same. He knew wandering and he knew lost and how to tell the difference.
Logan folded his arms over his chest, and when he spoke his voice was lower, almost a growl. "Did you know they were looking for you when you hired me?"
"No." The two men locked gazes for a few seconds, neither saying a word. Solo was the one to break it finally, spinning away and saying, "Come on, we can't stay in one place."
Logan made a small noise but followed. Shortly afterwards he added, "So, they're after you. You going to find out why?"
"That's," Solo said, "where we're going next."
*****
Triple-jointed fingers moved the electronic stacks into neat piles. The air sweltered with hydroponic moistness, carried along in breathable waves. "I have to ask, Han Solo," the man with the deep-set eyes behind the table noted, "do you have some clause in your contracts that state all that your associates must be hairy?"
"For your sake, I'm going to ignore that." Out of the corner of his eye, Solo saw Logan step forward then stop as he eyed the skeletal droids lining the walls, all with lasers pointed in their general direction. Even so, he suspected the man was calculating how fast he could reach the table.
"Oh ha ha." It was stated as words, an alien's imagining of what laughter sounded like. His skin was a greenish tint and the back of his head was elongated. Words fell from his lipless mouth like silken razors. "Your time away has done nothing to dampen your sense of humor, Han." He tilted his head to the side slightly. "How much of a bribe is he asking for now?"
"What?" Logan glanced at Solo, who only shook his head, motioning for silence.
"It is good to see you returned, however." He was pacing behind the table, fingers trailing and tracing the edge. "That's not acceptable. Remind him that his family's cryogenic stasis can easily be revoked. Really, though, Solo, you took a bit longer than usual this time."
"It was still well within the deadline, Argylin." One of the droids along the wall stirred, as if alerted by the tone of his voice. Solo kept his hands at his sides, knowing that "oops" and "I'm sorry" weren't in the droids' vocabularies.
"Oh, I know that. Anyone else, I wouldn't question it, but for you, with a ship like yours . . . of course, by all means make yourselves comfortable. Well, it's notable, at the very least." He clasped his hands behind his back, took a few steps away from the table. "You went off course for part of it," Argylin said calmly, regarding the ceiling. "Perhaps then we need to kill him and have him replaced with another."
"There was an Imperial fleet along the course that I didn't expect, so I had to detour." Next to him Logan was rubbing his knuckles and seemed to be sizing up the droids. Solo hoped he wasn't going to start a fight, that was the last thing they needed.
"They're not going to seal the port, we need that rumor stopped."
"Who the hell is he talking to?" Logan whispered.
"Triple-lobed brain," Solo shot back, his lips barely moving. "His race can carry on multiple conversations at once. He's probably got communicators wired into his head."
Argylin pivoted swiftly, though if he had heard them he gave no sign. "You didn't just detour, you jumped."
"The stuff got where it needed to go. The rest of it isn't your business."
The alien looked him up and down. "For one, because this is an Iconan refueling stop and they'll declare war at the smallest excuse. You're not even going to ask how I know this? Don't be coy, you know as well as I do they can't risk it. What happened to that vaunted curiosity?"
"You have your secrets and I'll keep mine."
Argylin rubbed his hands together. His eyes were cold and unblinking, stones set in a solid face. When he spoke to people who weren't present there was a certain echo to his voice, as if the words were being piped in from a different part of his brain and rearranged on other wings, to be sent away. "That's fine, but certain guarantees are going to be required first. Very well, but if we're going to compare secrets, it seems that yours are by far the more popular. There's practically an entire platoon of stormtroopers flooding the port and they all seem to be looking for you. If the cargo is short, he's going to have to account for it one way or another. Start with his carapace."
"That's why I'm here. I was hoping you might have an idea." Solo wiped some sweat off his forehead and risked taking a few steps closer to the table. One of the droids nearby twitched he kept his hands up and it relented. Argylin watched him without reaction. "Have they said anything? Have they given any kind of clue?"
Argylin regarded him, leaned forward so that his eyes were level his Solo's. His skin seemed to ripple, was almost translucent. "You don't know. Oh, mark this day in the logs." He clapped his hands together and stood up straight. "We've opened a docking bay, tell them to slip in. Good, good. Standby. Is it because you choose not to know or because you've done so many things that you just aren't sure anymore?"
"Can the sarcasm, Argylin," Solo warned.
"Why could they possibly want him?" It was Logan who spoke this time. Both men shifted their gazes toward him, but he stood with ramrod ease. "No offense, Han, but you're just a smuggler. And it seems strange that they'd go through all this trouble to capture a single smuggler." His eyes flickered from one to the other. "That's just how it seems to me. But maybe I'm wrong." Said with a laconic deference.
"If you're going to give me trouble over this, I assure you, I won't deny you. I won't need to. I simply will not lift a finger."
"Maybe it's part of a crackdown," Solo suggested. "My name is pretty well known, so maybe they're going after me first."
"No, no." There was a blur to Argylin's voice and it wasn't clear who he was speaking to at first. "That's not it. Absolutely, it can be arranged to our mutual satisfaction. The onslaught of soldiers has made our . . . element a bit spooked but they've made no inroads into anyone else. You'd think they'd take advantage of the disarray but so far . . . nothing." His face tilted downwards and he exhaled through nostril-flaps in what might have been amusement. "Is it separate sightings confirmed? Truly? It appears that they are only searching for you. And they aren't going to stop." He turned sideways slightly and interlaced his fingers together. "Whatever you've done, Solo, you have their full attention."
"Congratulations," Logan muttered.
"Stuff it," Solo shot back.
"No, save it, it's a rare honor." Argylin cast his eyes to the ceiling, pacing about in taut, lengthy strides. "We're going to have to agree on a signal, then. Your . . . assistant? is very perceptive." He stared down at Logan. "Indeed, some might say he's quite a bit cannier. But . . . what are you, sir?" His fingers traced the air in front of him, as if sketching out the possibilities. "No, you can stop checking. I have what I need. There's no record of you on any manifest, not with that bioprint and even so . . ."
"I'm just passing through." Logan rocked back on his heels then slowly slid to balance on the balls of his feet. "I'm just a man, travelling."
"It needs to be done now. They won't keep for that long, it must be moved. Perhaps, but no, no." He stepped forward, body arched in near-fascination. "You're either lying or mistaken. You're something different, something new." One hand reached out and came inches from Logan's arm, tracing a route along the skin toward his wrist. The other man's nostrils flared but that was the only sign. "Of course, if that's what you have to do. We all have needs. We've never seen the likes of you out here, in our desolate reaches."
"He's with me," Solo said. "That's all you need to know."
"Yes? But why is he still here? A kind of loyalty, or something else?" He switched his attention back to Logan again. "They aren't searching for you."
"Now they are."
"Tell him to hold until the proper time. Ah, but these are strange days we have. Troopers all along the port, a man," one hand lazily waved toward Logan, who this time took a step back, "who isn't what he thinks." Solo tried to catch Logan's eye on that statement but whatever Logan was staring at, nobody else could see. "You could walk out now, you know. It's not your problem."
"You trying to hire away my help?" There was a tightness in his jaw as he asked the question.
Logan didn't look at Solo. "I said what I'd do. And I'll do it."
"Very well," Argylin said, folding his arms together. He strolled back to his table, shifted a few more cards. One was blinking furiously but he calmly turned it over. "Trail them, but don't let them see you. I've had your ship moved, Han."
The notion immediately put Solo on edge. "You expect me to thank you?"
"I doubt you're capable of it," Argylin replied coolly. "It was too exposed in its dock, so we towed it to an unused dock in the Comout sector. They abandoned it after the war when all the ships were pulled back. They won't be returning for some time."
"When were you going to tell me this?" Solo demanded, walking right up to the table. The droids whirred but Argylin motioned and they lowered their weapons, although they didn't move back. Logan watched them warily. "These people are trying to kill me and you're making harder for me to get my ass out of here-"
"They don't want you dead," Argylin said coldly. "Very much the opposite. Be serious, he's not going anywhere. He has no reason to."
"He's right," Logan said. "It's not you they want, it's something you know. Or have."
"How do you know this? How do you know any of this?" Solo pivoted between them, flinging the question out as if the force of it might force one of them to answer. "Maybe they have the wrong person, maybe . . . whatever," he snorted, strode away from the table. "Come on," he said to Logan, "let's go find my ship and get the hell out of here."
"It's not that simple, Han," Argylin called out. Solo halted, stance poised and eyes narrowed. One hand lingered near his belt, near the laser. "Of course, I'd like the tradeways clear first. But that can be argued out later. I told you these were strange times. Inseptons have been sighted at the port. More than one. Separately."
All of a sudden, Solo grew slightly pale. Or maybe it was the wetness sheen, the light reflected off the hazed walls. "So what? It could be a coincidence, or an accident." His hand was wrapped around the grip of his laser. A droid twitched, humming.
"What does that mean?" Logan asked sharply, his voice a deft bark.
"I think we both know better than that. I've done everything you've asked." He was gathering up his cards, stacking them so they interlocked into smaller units. "I've kept them here long enough. It's up to you now."
"Do you hear that?" Logan asked, looking around quickly. "Han, do you hear that-"
Solo's weapon was out, pointed directly at Argylin's head. "So help me there won't be enough to put one brain back together out of the mess! Why are they here? What did you do?" The charged whine of it underscored his words.
Argylin didn't seem to be paying attention anymore. "I imagine you have it surrounded. That's only to be expected." The slit of his mouth twitched upwards in a semblance of a smile. "There were two prices, you know. That's what I couldn't resist."
"Han, I think we have to get out of here."
"You son of a bitch," Han snarled. The arm holding the weapon was shaking. Logan was backing away, arms out as if to balance on unstable ground. The droids were beginning to raise their cannons.
"The price of doing this. And the price of what could be done." He shrugged too thin shoulders, delicately placed the chips in his front pocket. "I hope you won't blame me for this, in the end. Yes, please. Yes."
The air shimmered with the sound of escalating sonics. From the edges of the nearest door came a blistering glow and beyond that, a deeper hum.
"You can come in whenever you'd like."
"Han!"
"Oh . . ." Argylin paused in his turning away and added almost as an afterthought, "and droids, feel free to kill the other one."
Perhaps a dozen lasers were raised.
"I swear, Argylin, I'll-"
The first fired shot was drowned out by Logan's roar as he launched himself across the room, the edges of his jacket flaring out behind him. The droids held their ground and at least one caught him with a grazing shot even as he crashed into them, slamming him up against the wall.
"They'll be along to get you in but a moment, I imagine," Argylin said, somehow making his voice heard over the din of crisscrossing lasers. "You lost track? I'm certain they will turn up again, it's not like they can easily blend. Unless you're going to do something pointlessly vengeful and shoot me."
"You're not just letting them in?" Han said, although the barrel of his laser hadn't wavered.
He waved a hand. "Oh, of course not. There's realistic trust and then there's the foolish kind. If they want it badly enough, they'll figure out a way inside." The door was glowing brighter now, even as a droid skidded across the floor, squeezing off sparks and screeching, its laser firing uselessly into the ceiling. He stared right into the heart of the weapon. "I do hope you're not going to take this personally."
"How could I?" Solo said grimly and shot Argylin in the face.
"No, I might be a little bit delayed," Argylin answered casually as the laser bounced off a forcefield that shimmered into existence around his body. "You know, your kind always plays to type, in all my time I-" He stopped, his colorless eyes widening ever so slightly, drifting to a point past Solo. "Oh, my," he said, so very softly.
It took Solo a second to realize that nearly all sound in the room had stopped except for a very methodical banging and tearing. Slowly, he turned around.
The room was strewn with wreckage and the remnants of the droids, remains of arms and heads and parts of metal that were no longer identifiable. In the center of crouched Logan, quite calmly smashing a droid into the floor and rendering it an unrecognizable mess. It squawked once and fell silent, leaving Logan's heavy breathing as the only prominent noise in the room. His hair was pressed flat against his head and his face was drenched in sweat. His jacket was sliced in numerous places and still smoking in others, revealing seared skin underneath. The floor was covered in streaks of blood and flecks of it dotted his own face.
Beyond, the door was beginning to melt.
Then he stood up, as smoothly as violence uncurling and for the first time they could clearly see his hands.
"That's different," Argylin said, as an exhalation. Solo merely lowered his weapon and said nothing.
From Logan's hands jutted three claws each, long silvery spines, emerging from somewhere on the back of his hand., extending about six inches past his knuckles. The points of them glittered in the heavy light, twisting it as he walked toward them. Passing near a broken droid, its arm twitched toward him but in a motion so fast it seemed to scar the air Logan swiped at it and the piece fell apart, sliced cleanly in two.
Voices could be heard at the door now, and figures seen outside through it, almost as translucent afterimages. Droplets were falling from it, hissing when it hit the floor.
Solo noticed that he was limping as he came toward them, but Logan didn't seem fazed by it. Instead, he said, "Why isn't this bastard dead yet?" and pointed at Argylin with his claws.
"No, they're right in front of us, what do you mean other signals behind . . ."
"Forcefield," Solo said. After a beat: "And why do you have claws?"
"Long story. And is that the only thing stopping you?" He reached forward. "Here." Tiny puckers of energy appeared around the claws as the points plunged into the shield, meeting little resistance. Argylin, seeming to realize the danger, turned at the last second as Logan drove his claws right through the man's side.
He screamed and fell backwards, but Logan followed him step for step, leaping over the table to go down with him. Around him the shield was flickering, fragments of it striking the floor and phasing out.
"No, no, there's no problem . . ." one hand was pressed to his side and greenish blood was seeping from in between his fingers. "Everything is just . . ."
"Shut up," Logan said quite calmly, his claws tracing a line very close to Argylin's face. "You're not talking to them now, you're talking to me."
"Then you," Argylin said through a damp cough, doing his best not to stare at the claws, "have my full attention."
"How close are they to getting through that door?" Logan asked over his shoulder.
Solo glanced over at the door, which was glowing brighter by the second. "Not much longer," he said, gripping his laser with both hands and holding it low. Quickly he came around the table and crouched down.
"Then you don't have a lot to time to tell us the other way out of here." Argylin said nothing and Logan let his claw make a tiny, too easy scratch on the side of his face. "Don't you?"
Argylin barked out a staccato clatter that might have been a laugh. The blood was oozing thicker from his side, but he never flinched. "Give, give me a moment here, slow down, just. Are you serious, we're at the edge of the port, we-"
"Too much talking," Solo said, using one hand to flip the table over.
"Right, save the guided tour for when we have more time," Logan agreed sharply. "There's more than one way out of anything."
"No, I'm telling you," shoving Logan's arm away from his face, he sat up with a coarse sigh, "that door is the only way in or out, otherwise you'd have to-"
"Not good enough!" Solo shouted. The world was growing loud, a grinding howl being exuded from the doorway. He positioned his laser over the edge of the table to steady it, his face set.
"You heard him," Logan said. "Don't make me ask again."
"Listen, I am telling you the truth," Argylin said as he slid away from Logan. "To leave here you'd have to go through the . . . what?" His eyes narrowed, then widened abruptly. "Wait, what do you mean the-"
That's when the wall before them exploded inwards.
Logan was the first to react, throwing his arms up and staggering back as dust and debris showered him. "What the hell?"
Argylin was still talking, even as the dirt coated him. "That's impossible, they can't be right-"
From out of a jagged hole lanced a beam of light that just seemed to barely touch Argylin in the back of the head. A second later there was another flash and Logan was thrown back against the table, the front of his shirt wet with blood and matter. Argylin's body was slumped forward unnaturally, a dark pool gradually spreading from the area where his head used to be.
Forms shifted in the darkness beyond, finding a solidity in the stratified haze.
"Who's there?" Solo said, looking unsure as to where to direct his laser.
Logan shook his head slowly, trying to get his bearings back.
Four pinpricks of light danced on the heads of filaments in the dimness, bobbing almost comically. With a jagged rustle bodies like bent cigars could be seen looming forward from the dark, segmented and crawling, low to the ground and skittering in their motions. A sound like the alphabet grinding together was heard, mixing together as mouthfuls of powdered concrete.
Shaking dust from his hair, Solo turned around, his eyes squinting and then widening as the shapes resolved. "Ah, no," he muttered. "No, no, no."
"What? What are they?" Logan said, blinking furiously to get debris out of his watering eyes. His claws were retracted now, although Solo thought he saw the points of them still jutting from the back of his hand, like metal seeds. "I can't-"
A harshburst of sound was heard again, overlapping discussions tuned to a new frequency. At the edge of the hole they stayed, although a hand with too many fingers attached to an arm with too many joints seemed to be protruding from the clouds of murk. That hand was holding nothing that looked friendly. The end of it appeared to be glowing.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it. It's nothing." Solo didn't take his eyes off the creatures, who were still too far back to be seen clearly. Arms ramrod straight, he held the laser gripped tightly and pointed toward the hole. "Just, listen, just get ready to-"
With a hiss, Logan pulled a sliver of something out of his eye.
Behind them, the door suddenly collapsed, crashing to the floor like a skeleton with all the bones removed. It was barely down when laser fire followed it in, strafing the room and searing the air over their heads. Voices crisscrossed into unintelligible blurs, gnarled and barely passing into speech. A starburst was flung from the vicinity of the hole and landed beyond them, briefly illuminating the room with a muffled crump. It hardly seemed to dilute the spray of lasers.
"Now what?" Logan yelled, turning as the table shuddered at his back. Solo looked about to return fire but as another volley sailed overhead apparently decided against it and stayed low.
"If you give me a second I'll think of . . ." Solo was searching frantically for something that might give them an advantage. His gaze settled on the gaping maw before them. "Wait, look!"
Logan leaned forward, nodded. "They're gone." He tried to peer closer. "Where did they go?"
"Retreated probably. Come on!" He scrambled to his feet, firing some shots over the table. Troopers were pouring into the room and fanning out, taking positions to lay down fire, some of them behind the wreckage of the room's droids. As soon as they realized that he and Logan were the only two people alive in the room, they were simply going to rush them and be done with it.
Logan, on one knee, hesitated. "Are you sure that's a good-"
"You want to take all those troopers out?" Solo asked and for a second he thought the man might leap over the table and do just that. But then he ducked as another laser lanced by just inches from his head and quickly moved to follow Solo, almost running on all fours. Solo unleashed a few more bursts of fire before the two of them dove into the hole, dodging to the side just as another array slammed into the wall they had been in front of mere seconds before.
Solo stood bent over, hands on his knees and trying to catch his breath. Logan watched him without comment. Past them the firing had stopped but there was the definite beat of approaching boots.
"We have to go," he said, staring down at the shadows being cast into the hole, shortening lengths scraping at the back wall.
"I know, I know," Solo said, straightening up and running a hand through his hair. "Okay. Let's get the hell out of here." The two of them began to run, moving carefully over the uneven ground.
"That didn't go too well, did it?" Logan asked, keeping pace easily with Solo.
"I'd rather not talk about it." Solo kept staring straight ahead.
Logan glanced at him and made a noise somewhere between a snort and a sigh. "It's colder here, where the hell are we?"
"I don't know," Solo replied, sounding distracted. The corridor seemed to go on for some time, and it was a while before Solo spoke again. "We're at the edge of the port, maybe we're in the outer skin." Voices could be heard from back where they had come, looping ghosts careening down a narrowing tunnel, scrambling for any purchase before they hit bottom. Even their own footsteps were deadened, flowers of noise unable to grow in the barren surroundings.
"Argylin didn't know about this tunnel," Logan noted. Still moving, he ran his hands along the roughened walls, rubbing the pebbles that came off between his fingers. "How was he going to get out then?"
Suddenly the dirty rock surfaces encasing them gave well to smooth metal floors and walls, the seam between them jagged but present. Logan skidded to a halt, one hand out to steady himself.
Solo had stopped as well, taking a second to change the power pack on his laser, tossing the old one onto the floor. "He had a personal teleporter on him, probably preset for a safe house. Chances are you broke it when you hit him, which is why he didn't bail earlier."
"Too bad for him, then."
"Yeah," was all Solo said. The troopers could no longer be heard behind them, the only noise was a sort of layered humming, distant and somehow nestling right in the bones. It smelled like scarred sterility. There was a certain brightness to the area but the light didn't seem to be emanating from anywhere in particular.
"This looks more promising," Logan said, sniffing and stalking past Solo. "Some kind of maintenance corridor?"
"I think so." Attaching his laser to his belt, he scanned the area, peering slightly further down. "Obviously they came in this way, which means there's probably a . . . aha!"
Beyond was a ladder set in the wall, spiraling solidly upwards. Logan had already reached it, one hand on a rung as if testing the reality of it.
"It must go topside," Solo said, coming forward quickly. "Good, we can get up there and lose them in the zones. Then we can . . . wait, where are you going?"
Logan had turned away suddenly, moving toward the opposite wall. "Hold on," he said softly, almost as if he were talking to himself.
"Listen, pal, we can't waste any time here-"
"Sh," Logan ordered, with a spear's certainty, and Solo fell silent, although it was hard to say if it was from surprise or obedience. "What is this?" he wondered, touching something on the wall.
"What is what?" Now curious, Solo came forward as well, crouching down next to him. Bending over to peer sideways at what Logan was examining, he whistled softly.
It was a hole chiseled in the wall, about three feet across and perhaps the same size taller. Which in itself was not impressive, they had just come through a hole much larger than that. What caught their attention was not the hole itself but what they could see through it.
Stars. And darkness. And all the rest that made the fabric of space.
"We are in the outer shell," Solo said, his fingers tracing the edge of it, which seemed smooth. "They must have been outside and punched right through."
"Then why aren't we dead right now?" Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.
"There's a seal in place. See that flicker right there?" his hand indicated a visual anomaly in the center of the hole that seemed to clench for an instant. Logan nodded wordlessly. "That must have cut in and slapped it on before Port Control noticed the drop in pressure." He twisted, staring back down the rock clawed corridor they had come down. "And then they started burrowing."
"In, though, or out?" Logan asked.
"I don't know," Solo admitted after a moment, frowning.
Further down the corridor was the patter of measured footsteps. A crimson glow was beginning to creep around the corner, perhaps a warning volley.
"Come on." Solo stood up quickly, made a leap two rungs up the ladder and immediately began climbing. "They're going to figure out where we went pretty fast."
Logan nodded, although he was still glancing at the hole as if deep in thought. His nose twitched slightly but he came over as Solo was halfway up the length of it, scurrying up nimbly. He took one last glance back before his view of the tunnel would be completely obstructed but all he saw was the red shadows, flickering and reaching.
"Are you-" From high above.
"Yeah," he said quickly, and went up.
******
They emerged on a glossy street, the surface polished to perfectly reflect the flawless dark above. Stars whirled with pitiless slowness underfoot and they stood in a seemingly endless field of them, deep enough that they might fall through and fall back down and never find the bottom.
Around them curled buildings without corners, architecture with a blocky gracefulness and angles that barely met in proper places. It leaned forward onto the avenue, penning them in while directing their path, a corridor punched down a black river and they were only pinpricks within it, effortlessly being carried along. There was no sound anywhere and no inhabitants present, although a breeze kept brushing past them, whispering and shying away at the last second.
Solo moved swiftly into the shadow of the nearest structure, squat and flanged. Nearly swallowed up, Logan could still make out his broad grin.
"Ha, about time we had some luck," he said as Logan joined him, padding carefully across the landscape.
"Oh? You mean people are going to stop shooting at me?" Logan pressed himself against the wall and let his voice come out as a hiss. "Because I'm starting to get tired of it."
"Hey, you signed on for this," Solo pointed out. He started to creep down the way, trying to keep into the opaque puddles caused by the cantilevered arms.
Logan's look should have flayed him where he stood. Even so his claws came out nearly an inch. "You didn't mention you were a wanted criminal. I might have taken that into consideration."
Solo glanced over at him and flashed him another grin. "Nah, I doubt it. You strike me as a defender of the downtrodden." He crept forward another few feet, throwing over his shoulder, "And the unfairly accused."
"Is that the case?" Logan's voice indicated a certain lack of conviction.
"Of course," Solo said blithely. "I wasn't even aware they were chasing after me until that moment in the bar. Before that it was only rumors but you know how rumors are, they're as plentiful as Crestian sores. I have no idea what the hell they want with me."
Logan carefully watched the back of Solo's head, but said nothing else.
"Besides," he continued, unaware of Logan's glare, "we're right where we need to go, we'll be on my ship and out of here in just a little while." His eyes met Logan's briefly. "If we're careful," he added, dangerously offhand.
"We're where he moved your ship?" Logan asked, his muscles seeming to tense and leap under his skin, ready to move in more action than this. "He said it was the-"
"-Comout sector." Above them pillars were bending like the rib cage of an inverted beast, growing closer and closer together as they made their way deeper inside. Very slowly the stars were being shut out and sealed away. "It's been abandoned for some time."
"Why?" His gaze kept darting around, unable to stay in one spot for very long, expecting an attack from any angle and desperate to be aware and able to meet it. The only sounds were their lowered voices, breath twisting around crystal and the smallest loose word might shatter the whole structure. There were only slivers of sky to be seen now, deeper was encasing them further.
"Nobody knows for sure. This is just an outpost for them." Starlight fell in narrowed bands, forming a near grid on his face. "Where they're from, is far away, and . . . I heard there was a war. And they left, without a word, packed up all their ships and left, to go back home. They say." He stopped for a second, shoulders up against the wall. Logan's eyes caught what little glimmer remained in the air, became a pair of flattened stars.
"And nobody's moved in since?"
"Everyone's afraid they'll come back. Most of the buildings are sealed up, word was that the Empire wanted to plunder them, break in and see what was inside." He stared down at his feet, at the too sharply defined image of himself chiseled onto the floor, as if into a dark mirror. "But they're stretched now, fighting against the Alliance and they don't want to piss off the Comouts as well, when they come back. So they stay away. Everyone stays away. Almost everyone."
Solo stared at his reflection for maybe another second, trying to see the sky by looking deep enough below. Then he began to move again, faster now and away from the wall. They were totally enclosed now, and the ceiling was sloping gently toward them as they went forward. Logan saw other streets branching off with even lower ceilings, twisting as if part of a hive, or warren. Glancing back, he thought he heard another set of noises, just out of time with their own steps but there was no one nearby.
Logan followed for half a minute before letting his own question ring out. "Who are the Inseptons?"
Solo halted, his back stiff as if his spine had been yanked. The darkened zone caused his black vest to blend in, causing his limbs to seem detached from each other, his head about to float away. "Another bunch of aliens, that's all. In case you haven't noticed, this damn port is full of them."
"That's not why Argylin mentioned it. He wasn't telling you because it was the latest gossip." The two of them had moved toward the center of the street, several feet apart, almost in direct line with each other. "He was telling you for a reason."
"They're not seen around here too often." Solo refused to turn around and in the gloom his body language was masked, so that all that remained was the sound of his voice, cushioned in the dimness and reduced to just the words themselves. "It's been years since one was spotted. They're not exactly social creatures."
"Why did he tell you?"
"To distract me, all right?" Solo's voice was a whip that Logan barely dodged and refused to flinch from. If he had turned it was impossible to tell anymore. Maybe they were moving in perfect time with each other, maintaining the same distance, their muffled shouts observed and swallowed by the massive flowing structures on either side of them, all actions witnessed by faces without eyes. "He was trying to buy time and he thought that might interest me long enough so that the troopers could get in." His breathing resounded as waves looking for a refractory surface. "Argylin always was a devious bastard. He got what he deserved." Solo started to walk again, boots clicking on the hardened floor.
"They're the ones who killed him, aren't they?" It was all echo, every word curving back as spikes. The heaviness of the ceiling was so close, dark on dark, opaque and pressing down.
Solo spun, his face gauze dipped in shadows. He didn't answer right away.
"Why did they do it?" Logan ventured, as a snap.
"We don't have time for this," Solo said in the tones of a man who knew exactly how much time remained and how much was leaving him. "Now come on."
He was walking away again when Logan caught up to him and grabbed him by one shoulder, spinning him around and pulling him close. "No," he snarled, his eyes becoming flint. "They want something, Han. Don't you see that, or are you . . ." Logan broke off as he stared into Solo's impassive face. He took a step back, arms dropping to his side. "You do see it," he hissed, eyes narrowed. "And you just don't care."
"I'm telling you," the man replied evenly. "I have no idea what they-"
"Of course you do," a new voice said, coming from across the avenue. Both men turned, Logan's claws emerging immediately, with a clicked whisper. Solo brought his laser up but then lowered it slowly upon seeing the soldiers stepping out from one of the archways. Their white armor almost gleaming in the dusk, they arranged themselves in a semi-circle, their guns acting as spikes pointing inward.
"Don't believe a thing he says," the lead trooper said from his position at the peak of the parabola. "Mister Solo here is a notorious liar. He very much knows what we're after and what he needs to tell us. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he hired you as a shield to put someone between him and us. Has he told you what happened to his last partner yet? Is this one on family business, too?" The trooper laughed but coming from underneath the helmet it sounded muffled and mechanical, almost an approximation.
Logan glared at Solo but didn't speak. Solo was only staring at the speaking trooper, a muscle in his jaw working feverishly.
"You know what we need, why make this difficult? Stubbornness? A need to be contrary? All you smugglers are alike, thinking you're some kind of outlaws making a difference." The barrel of the laser was pointed unwaveringly at Solo's chest. "Your mistake is thinking that these are traits that can't be beaten out of someone. It's amazing what happens when you crack someone open. All kinds of garbage starts to leak out." He was walking forward now, step by step, the opaque visors on his helmet looking more like holes bored into his face, parts of him that had already been consumed. "You talk to the wrong people, Solo. They break too easily."
Solo swore but held his ground. Logan noticed that his laser was aimed toward the floor now, toward the trooper's feet. "The Empire's playing a dangerous game. How many stormtroopers have you landed on the port?" He was talking fast, his gaze trying to find every possible angle. "It's going to start looking like a move to annex it. The locals aren't going to be so thrilled over that. You start making people disappear, make too much noise and throwing your weight around, this place is going to go up like a reactor."
"A few pissed off aliens really aren't the Empire's biggest concern," the trooper sneered back, although Logan noticed that he had stopped his advance. "Besides, who's left to get angry? Who?" His voice seemed to expand and reverberate off the curved walls, travelling further down in a spiral. "A few drunks and space peddlers, passing through on their way to dig up some more airless rock? The bug-people? Even when they were here they never left their own sector. And we could slaughter the entire port and the vacuum eaters wouldn't even notice." Solo's hand had gone white around the grip. "We'll get the rest in due time, Solo, don't worry about it. You're just passing through, the same as everyone else. In the meantime, you're coming with us." His voice came across as isolated in the otherwise encapsulated quiet and the air seemed to shiver.
"I really don't think that's going to happen."
"Please. Give me a reason to shoot your legs out, because we're docked on the other side of the port and I'd like an excuse to drag your carcass all the way there. Face down, if possible."
Logan shifted his weight, waiting to move. He could cross the distance in seconds, less than that if necessary. They were slow motion to him, because they had to think. That wasn't a concern he had.
"You know the weird thing about Comouts?" Solo asked, letting one foot slide back. "They don't really like visitors, but the port wouldn't allow them to put any active defenses in. So they improvised, put up buildings you can't get into, made it too dark to really see."
"He talk this much normally?" the trooper asked Logan.
Logan shrugged. "You tune him out after a while. He's not paying me to listen."
"And yet, you can learn a lot," Solo said. "Especially if you listened right now, Logan, and shielded your eyes."
There was a pinged whine as Solo fired his laser directly at the floor. A second later the whole zone went white as the light flared out, saturating the area. There was an overlapped cry as the troopers all clutched their helmets, several dropping to their knees.
"Come on!" Solo shouted, grabbing Logan by the arm and dragging him toward an archway a bit further up the street. Several troopers were firing wildly now and Logan could almost feel the glow invading the air behind them, like someone had pulled down morning and brought it to ground, blankets of cold fire all settling on top of each other in some strange competition.
Logan blinked again, yanked his arm out of Solo's grasp. Even the brief glance had set stars twinkling in the back of his vision and it was only just beginning to clear. Solo was running at full-clip and Logan adjusted his pace to match the other man's stride.
"They're following already," he said, hearing the clank behind them, and the looming shouts, conical impressions bearing down the corridor.
"I figured that," Solo replied, breathing heavily and glancing back furtively, trying to judge the distance and finding it much too close for his liking. "But we couldn't exactly shoot them all right there."
"We didn't have to." He lifted a hand with the claws half-extended, but Solo only frowned and shook his head without elaborating. "And what the hell did you do?"
"Some guy in a bar one time told me that they had coated the walls and floor with reflective material, designed to disperse any laser fire, in case they got invaded and people started shooting. That sounds in character for them, so it seemed worth a shot. Their visors were probably polarized, so that flash must have been like someone pulling down a star."
"Somebody in a bar told you? You didn't know for sure?"
Solo only shrugged, flashing a smile. "He sounded like he knew what he was talking about. Besides, I think the truest things I was ever told were said to me in bars."
Logan thought about this. "I'm not sure I can really argue with that."
A laser drilled through the air past them, followed a moment later by its careening whine. Both men glanced back to see the shapes of the troopers filling the corridor, dark cutouts against a dark background. Logan noticed that the walls around them were becoming less glossy and more like the dull metal of the rest of the port. "I think we're moving into another area," he said.
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of. But we're going to have to lose these guys first." They exploded out of the tunnel into a widened space flushed with a sickly brightness, moving to either side of it.
"Wait. We can ambush them here," Logan said, sliding over to the corner, claws easily sliding out of his skin.
"Are you nuts?" Solo asked, taking a position on the opposite side. "There had to be at least ten of them, with more probably coming. Are you trying to get killed?"
Logan only grinned, lips pulled back in a feral fashion.
"Oh no, we're not doing it this way." Footsteps tramped nearer, as Solo took stock of what was around them. The ceiling here was much taller, the dome overhead decorated with whirling patterns of spotted color, collapsing and reforming into errant shapes that seemed ready to leap off and hit the ground. The buildings were comprised of bent angles, ready to fold inwards and be packed away at any moment, flaring with glittering symbols. From a distance came the churning noises of what might have been revelry, awash in its own percussion, clattering armies fighting for the dominant rhythm. Lifeforms could be seen wandering, aimlessly or otherwise, decked in local dress or elaborate costumes. "No," he said to himself, "there's got to be another way to . . . ah." His eyes settled on a particular building as he watched a man clad in clothing that consisted of nothing but dilated lenses all featuring distorted views into other worlds. That man went inside, the door swallowing him with barely a ripple. His face brightened as he read the symbols over the entryway.
"Listen, Logan . . ." but the other man was staring intently at the space between the corners, listening to the troopers charging closer. His every muscle seemed poised, not tensed but ready, a bomb on the cusp of an explosion. "We don't have to do this, I've got a plan, I . . ." but he wasn't listening. Logan had inched forward until his face was nearly even with the edge. They would never see him, but how many could he get before the rest piled on him? And then what?
"Dammit," Solo swore, knowing he had only seconds. Time to force the issue. "Hey!" he yelled, leaping in the line of fire and setting off a few shots. The brief glimpse told him that the stormtroopers were uncomfortably close and he dodged backwards just in time to see beams shriek where he had been standing a second ago.
Logan was giving him a what are you doing look but Solo had already taken off toward the building, hearing them rush into the sector even as sensed Logan coming up right behind him, catching up easily. "We can end this here!" Logan seemed to be yelling at him but he was already at the doorway. He only had time for a quick look, just enough to see the troopers steering toward them unerringly, and Logan's mystified face, asking questions he had no words to express. Even so, Solo had the same answer.
"Trust me," was what he might have said, and dove inside.
******
arclightcrammingfallsdrippingsignsofsignsofsignseverywhichwayjumpeveryever-
Solo was battered immediately, assaulted by jackhammers of sounds and lights, pressing into a mess of hot and cold, patches that toyed with each other before spiraling away giggling. The room was bent with prisms, the glows forming extant colors and shades that fluttered, tones that sang of hues and a density that you could fall completely into and not find the bottom of. Solo staggered two steps upon entering, thrown from side to side by gyrating bodies, the air too alive with smells that ran like bonfires along his nerves, setting off explosions in his brain that were dilated memories, of voices and distance and lines on a string and a string stretched between two places with neither end in sight.
He tried to bring his vision in line with what his senses were telling him, and failed. The room tilted vertically and impossibly, shapes crashing together and dancing up the walls, horns blaring like unpeeling flowers and spotlights piercing down as corkscrews, illuminating distorted faces, eyes rolled back in a kind of elusive bliss. He fought his way forward, forcing himself to accept the dimensions of the room, no matter how much it was rotating or settling, the constant siren of words falling down as rain on his ears, threatening to tear him into other places. The room was too large, expanding further than the edges of the outer system. It was too small, limbs stacked on limbs stacked on limbs, in his face, wrapped around his body, sliding to rhythms that he could not fall into. All he knew was forward. Toward the back and forward.
Oneintheyinhighdownstraightifyoucomingthenitsbestdonenowcareeningson
Solo was out of breath, wanting to fall and not letting it happen. Closing his eyes didn't make it any better, a man standing near him could have been shouting at the top of his lungs but it was all drowned out cacophony, blending into the swirling array. Hours had gone by in seconds. Another form, bristling and multi-shaded, swiped against him and he spun around, resisting the urge to grab it and fling it across the room just to erase its momentum, let its opposite reaction send him somewhere else.
As it was, the room whirled crazily, pulled tight at all ends and when his sight cleared he had a good view of the front door.
That's when he saw Logan.
The man had run in at full tilt, just as the lights started to strobe in a sideways fashion. Solo was trying to gesture for Logan to get over to his side of the room, even as transparent fish settled diagonally across his vision, ringing as bells gone backwards. He wanted to shout but every word was coming out as bubbles of gravel, strewn about like roads of gossamer laced in invisible paths before him. There were alarms going off in his skin like supernovas, telling him to go and go and go and go. But he didn't move. He couldn't, he had someone to get. And he was right across this obliquely slanted room.
And then and yet. Logan? What are you-
In hazy segments of time, he watched Logan come in, and he watched Logan go down.
It happened in a strange sort of slow-motion, where Logan and the rest of the room randomly swapped speeds, one shifting in interlaced blurs while the other section staggered staccato. In the midst of it, his expression was all too clear, twisting from surprise into pain and then past it into a near electric anguish, his hands going to his ears and his eyes and his face and not being able to settle anywhere. The room danced about him without noticing, perhaps thinking it was all part of the display. His mouth was opened into a yawning hole and the scream being torn from it was just another series of vibrations decorating the interior, fading in with barely a rattle.
Logan dropped to his knees, shaking violently from side to side like something heavy had landed on him and none of his efforts could make it dislodge. His hands were covering his ears and he was bent over onto the floor nearly double, his arms and legs trembling. Solo tried to make his way over to him but the lights were fractured and destroying all angles, forcing him into a crooked and circular path. Taking deep breaths, Solo closed his eyes and did his best to regain equilibrium, willing the room back into something resembling logic.
Ohlookandlookandseecrawlingcatapultsoversilentstarsfingersrightthrough
When he opened them again, the room had more new visitors.
The iris of the door dilated again and the troopers tumbled in, the uniformity of their armor making it seem like the same person was stepping in on stuttering repetition, one after the other after the other. Solo blinked hard and the blurriness began to fall back into a crisper focus, the churning ocean finding resolve. He needed to reach Logan, who was still undergoing the strange violent seizure on the floor, reach him and grab him and get him the hell out of here. To that end he began to ram his way through the crowd, shoving bodies aside, even as smiling gaped faces ringed him as floating fevers, and offered him drugs or toys or perhaps the promise of another further time.
As it turned out, the troopers were closer to Logan.
One spotted him and pointed, the motion of his arm forming ghostly afterimages in the clatter. Moving in lockstep the others began to clear the immediate area, practically throwing others aside. Solo had to duck and dodge to avoid being crushed by a dense Hurtellen, its fluffy bulbous shape deceptive. Someone nearest to him wasn't so lucky and wound up being squished against the wall, hands waving feebly.
Now's my chance, he thought, with no obstacles between he and Logan. Moving warily at the edge, doing his best to tune out the clamor even as it made his teeth vibrate, he got ready to run in. All he had to do was grab him before the troopers did.
Except the troopers had no such intention of that. Which Solo realized when they all pointed their rifles at Logan. The lead trooper, set back a step from the rest, raised one arm.
"No!" he shouted, but his cry was lost in the morass of noise.
Logan was beginning to stir, getting on his hands and knees and blinking rapidly. His pupils seemed quite small and there were tremors running up and down his muscles.
Solo got out his own laser, but he couldn't shoot fast enough, he couldn't-
The signal went down and the air screamed.
Logan was turning as the first shot slammed into him and the impact of it nearly threw him onto his back, a wide gash ripping up his side, angry and red. The second and third caught him in the chest, the flash of the lasers dulled by the contrasting fragments of light that were bursting inside the room. The next one merely skinned his leg, but he was halfway to standing up and the wound brought him back down.
The notion of what was happening rippled through the crowd slowly, but picked up speed as it did and seconds later shouts and yells began to course through the room as people began to fight to be somewhere other than where they were standing. Solo was hit from behind as a man covered in spiked feathers ran forward, brandishing what appeared to be an oscillating halberd.
With just the barest glance one of the troopers casually shot him in the chest. He stumbled back, mouth agape and weapon spinning to the floor. Using the falling body as a cover, Solo took a quick shot, tagging the soldier right at the neck, forcing him to stagger without falling. Noting the new attack, the others shifted their aim toward the threat.
The moment's pause gave Logan a chance to finally react. Without getting up from his lowered position he launched himself at the nearest trooper, the garishly cycling lights stretching his motion into a liquid action, pouring himself from one zone to the next, his claws seemingly the only solid piece of him.
Two beams whizzed past him, coming inches too close but missing. One struck a bystander and sent them reeling away, smoke hissing from the slash in their torso. The floor was becoming a grid of chaos now, screams beginning to overwhelm the ambient fuzz, everyone deciding that separate directions were the fastest way out. Solo was nearly knocked down, but was doing his best to keep Logan in sight.
A path cleared before him just in time to see Logan jam both sets of claws into the closest trooper's chest and then without breaking stride picking up the man and flinging him into the others. He leapt forward before the body even hit the ground, falling on the other troopers even as they tried to back away. A few shots hit him but barely broke his stride, momentum sending him crashing forward and lifting him up into an arc. With graceful brutality his claws sliced down, cutting right through the armor, he was hardly hesitating but merely letting himself be carried from one motion to the next, as if he had all the time in the world. Stab, and spun. Stab, and turn. He was a whirling silhouette, every movement improvised into cascades of hammered violence. Spurts of blood were oddly benign in the artificial lighting, disappearing against the torn dark of his jacket. Solo caught the briefest glimpse of his face and it was feral and intent, mouth barely open and a snarl emerging that rattled right through his bones.
"Logan-" he called out but the man turned, sweeping the room with a wild gaze and Solo knew that nothing he said would be heard.
Scattering, the troopers began to fire without aiming, attempting to trip him up and force him into an intersected strike. Lasers whined, slamming into those standing nearby and suddenly there were bodies falling like cut puppets, expressions locked into an elastic kind of surprise, sunbursts of blood beginning to decorate both floor and walls.
Feeling the room receding from him, Solo watched with dazed detachment as Logan ran down another trooper, taking a hit to the soldier even as he drove his claws right through the helmet, the points shuddering out the back. He slid them out smoothly, letting the body lower almost gently, his eyes already searching and locked onto the next target. He wasn't smiling. Solo told himself that over and over. He was not smiling. Even as he realized he was backing away deeper into the room, moving like a phantom through the stalled crowd. Around Logan was an ever-widening circle of corpses, with lasers lancing past and through him, pegging those still struggling to get out of the way and sending them to the floor, sometimes still twitching, sometimes quite still. Solo was seeing it all through a backwards lens, the widescreen view of a tiny Logan springing on a tightly clustered pack of troopers, bringing them down with a methodical necessity, distant and bloodless and terrifying. That wasn't a claw jammed into a leg to hold someone in place, and it wasn't another thrust through the back to cause the flailing figure to finally cease struggling. Another laser caught him on the side of the neck, opening him up wide and what Solo saw there was . . . was what? What was that?
A hardness bumped up against his back and Solo realized he had reached the rear of the building. Far away, he saw Logan suddenly spin in his direction, eyes piercing and marked and his lips form a word that might have been "You" or another phrase entirely.
Then a shadow passed nearby and Logan spun to meet it yet again, even as the panicked crowd closed up before Solo. The shadows of his claws were scarred on the ceiling, and it was the last thing that Solo saw before his fumbling hands somehow miraculously found an exit that opened, letting him topple outside into the stale port air.
Stripped of the layered cacophony, it became strangely silent here, except for a slight ringing in Solo's ears. Before him the remaining patrons were jammed into the doorway, faces flattened as if by a sheet of glass, all struggling to get to the same place, none willing to give any ground to let others get there, even if it meant dooming themselves.
Help us, the sets of eyes, glassy and opaque, hazy and membranous, all said to him. Help us. One might have slid out, his body too flexible, as if broken, landing on the ground and gasping. Nobody else emerged.
"I'm sorry," Solo might have stammered, trying to ignore his own heavy breathing. "I'm just . . ."
The mass shuddered again, and the edges of the world became rimmed in red.
"I'm-" but he didn't say anything more than that before running away, refusing to even think about looking back. It was quiet and he still heard them, klaxons going off in the mind.
Panting, he ducked into a warehouse he hoped was abandoned, nearly throwing his shoulder out in forcing the door open, stumbling inside without any heed to what he might run into. He finally found a corner more through luck than anything else and slid down, hearing nothing but his own echoed breathing, pulling his knees to his chest and telling a person that wasn't him that everything was fine and just to be calm. But that person wasn't listening, and didn't seem about to start.
******
How long he sat like that he didn't quite know. The interior of the warehouse was dark, with only a pattern of meager light spilling in from a small window located on the door. The ceiling was buried somewhere in the gloom overhead, and the shadows held hints of giant machines rendered inert, waiting to be either reactivated or discarded. The whole area was soaked in a trembling silence, with vague streams of sound leaking in from outside, the hum of the port, muted shouts and cries, distant clangings and grindings and groanings, the engines of wheeling stars beyond in their achingly slow dances.
All that noise, and one other. The soft scrape of a scuff, just outside the door.
Solo picked his head up suddenly, blinking himself back into alertness. His nerves were still singing from what he had just witnessed, the casual explosion of violence still going off like flash mines in his brain, flickering images combining into a fierce unfurling. Taking a deep breath., he eased himself into a crouch, laying his laser on one leg to steady it.
A shadow crossed the square of light and stopped, splitting it into crescents.
Solo held his breath, finger on the trigger.
The shadow moved away, although Solo refused to allow himself to relax. If they were searching, they were going to come in anyway, but with the doorway so narrow he'd be able to pick off quite a few and form a bottleneck. That would give him time to-
Right next to him, someone struck a match in the dark.
With a gasp he refused to believe came from him, Solo whirled, arms locked straight and laser pointing right at the source of the sound.
Vision spinning, he saw a man's features lit by a glow coming from the hollow of his own cupped hand, all harsh contrasts and swept back hair. He was about to fire when the imagine finally registered.
"You know, bub," Logan said slowly, tossing the spent match away and taking a long drag on the cigarette, "it's probably a good idea to work on that peripheral vision."
Solo lowered the pistol carefully. "I take it there's another door into here."
"Maybe," Logan said offhandedly, perfectly balanced on the balls of his feet. His claws had been retracted, and the cigarette forced throwback light onto his face, crafting oblong shadows that may or may not have shrouded the blood streaking his skin. He clutched the cigarette tightly, staring out into the dark without saying a word.
"How did you find me?" he ventured, studying Logan cautiously.
"You stink," was all he said and then snorted, as if enjoying a private joke.
"We should lay low here for a bit," Solo said eventually, shifting into a more comfortable position. "In all the confusion they'll eventually move the search elsewhere . . ." he rubbed the back of his head. "I don't know why the hell the port constables aren't getting involved, unless they've all been bribed. They're corrupt as hell but there's no love lost between them and the Empire, so I don't-"
"What the hell was all that, Solo?" Logan asked suddenly, sharply.
Cut off, it took Solo a second to catch up. "What was what?" His heart was not beating faster. The man was not capable of doing that to him. "That room, it was, we were in the entertainment district and it must have been a club that specializes in sensory overload. Some people get off on that kind of-"
"That's not what I mean. That mess, that goddamn mess," he spat out the words as mangled things. He turned to stare at Solo and the burning end of the cigarette was reflected in his eyes, distant fires racing toward him. "What the hell were you thinking, leading those bastards into that place?" Underneath his words there was a simmering and Solo wondered if he had lowered the weapon too early.
Even so, he wouldn't back away. "I thought we'd lose them in the crowd, and we could just slip out the back. I didn't realize that-"
"-they'd open fire on the crowd?" Icy, the string of a razor drawn along glass, a mark made without cutting. "You didn't think they'd do that? You knew they were trigger-happy and you went and put a bunch of targets in their way. What the hell did you think was going to happen? They'd give up and walk away?" The emptiness was compressing his voice, funneling it directly toward Solo. "There are people dead in there, goddammit. A lot of people."
"I was trying to buy us time."
"You were trying to buy yourself time," Logan shot back, one finger stabbing up and stopping just short of Solo's chest. Warily he watched the top of that hand, waiting for the spike to emerge. Would there be any warning? "It's not me they're looking for, is it? It's you and you don't give a damn about who gets in the way as long as you get away." His eyes narrowed. "I was right before, you've known from the start what this is all about, you hired me to put someone else between you and them."
Solo said nothing, just stared down at the floor.
"Is that the truth?" Logan asked, his voice getting louder. He was standing now, his stocky stature casting deeper shadows over Solo. "What is going on, Han? Why are they chasing you?" Smoothly he knelt down, pressing his face close to Solo's. When he spoke again his voice was very, very quiet. "What did you see?"
Solo never looked at him, his expression locked away. "I told you already, I don't know-"
"You son of a bitch!" Logan roared, picking him up from under his shoulders and slamming him against the wall. The cigarette fell to the floor and went out, only leaving behind a few sad traces of smoke. Solo blinked, more dazed than surprised, although his eyes went wide when he saw Logan's contorted face. "Don't you dare give me that. You're lying, I know you're lying. I can smell it on you. So I'm going to ask you again and if you give me some kind of bull answer, I will hamstring you and leave you out there for them to find. Am I clear?" The man didn't answer immediately and Logan shook him violently. "I asked you a question, Solo."
"Walk away," came the answer, in a voice gone dry. "Just get the hell away."
"No," Logan said simply. "Not because you hired me, or because I've been shot repeatedly, but because whatever the hell you started, it needs to be seen through. And you don't have the balls for it."
This caused Solo's eyes to flare up. "Don't you lecture me about having balls-"
"Then prove it to me," Logan snarled at him. "Because so far all you've been doing is running and hiding."
"You think it's that simple?" Solo shouted back at him, the expanse of the cavernous surroundings muffling his voice somehow. "I am doing my damndest not to get killed, not to let either of us get killed, while trying to figure out what is going on."
"Is that what you call it?" Logan sneered.
"I call it survival." Solo's voice was steel. "It's what I do, it's all I know how to do, get from one day to the next. And you want to talk about people not knowing things, pal . . ." his hand shot out to brush aside the collar of Logan's jacket, revealing the smooth skin of his neck. Logan remained perfectly still, his pupils seemingly quivering. "You were shot here, I saw it. Tore you right open. And now it's like you were never touched." His brief chuckle was a blunted hammer. "I bet if we checked where else you got pegged, what would we see?"
"I recover fast."
"I don't have that luxury," Solo suddenly barked, tugging down so that Logan's grip on him was released. He shoved the man back, sending him staggering a few inches. "I get shot and I die. I make a mistake anywhere and I'm done, whether it's here or out there, you don't get second chances. I don't have metal claws and whatever the hell it is that you can do, I have a gun and my wits and a ship that I can't get to." Leaning on the wall, he pressed his fingers against the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes. "You think this is how I wanted this to go? But I'm just trying to stay a step ahead here-"
"And people are dying!" Logan took a step forward.
"You think I don't know that?" Solo responded, moving closer so that the two men were inches apart. "And you think it doesn't bother me? Because it does, but you know what, that's what happens and I can't spend my time crying over it. I'm just trying to exist here, you know? The same as anyone else." Glancing down, he checked his gun at his belt. "Now, we've probably spent enough time here that we can-"
"No." Somehow Logan bit the word off so that it was less than a syllable.
Solo looked at him, raised an eyebrow.
"Who are the Inseptons?" His stance had gone immobile.
"I told you, another bunch of aliens. If you're that curious I can show you the census report another time, right now we've got to . . . ah!" His sentence was cut off as Logan back him toward the wall, one hand around his throat and the other pointed directly at his face. Solo could see the tips of sharpness beginning to break through the skin.
"I'm not going to ask again," Logan said too calmly. "But you hired me as your partner and I have been shot for you and you are not keeping me in the dark anymore. Because enough people have died. It's time for some answers, Han. Now. What's so special about them?"
Solo tried not to stare at Logan's hand. Swallowing thickly, he licked dry lips. "All right, fine. It's not . . . it's not the them that's special, it's the . . . number of them."
"Argylin said there was more than one spotted."
"Yeah, that's the thing they . . ." grimacing, he tapped Logan's hand and the other man, perhaps sensing a shift, obliged by releasing him. "They're real solitary, you don't see more than one anywhere, seeing even a pair together never happens." Massaging his neck, he coughed, eyeing Logan, maybe hoping that the questions were done.
"Why is that?"
Solo sighed, paced away. "Their planet was destroyed a long, long time ago, far away from here. So everyone who got off-world scattered and . . . they just never got back together. Became nomads, always travelling."
"Not just travelling," Logan answered. "They're searching."
Solo looked at him sharply. "How do you-"
"I know the type." He cocked his head to the side, as if studying. "But am I right?"
"Yeah, yeah," Solo said and something seemed to collapse inside of him. He squeezed the lower part of his face, deep in thought. "There was a war and before the planet got destroyed they . . . they gathered a lot of their knowledge and genetic codes into these . . . capsules. Put it all in there and launched it away. Everything they knew, history and science and the rest, it was all in there." He walked around swinging his arms loosely, exhaling shallow breaths. All his motion barely made a dent in the dark. "But with the war going on, they lost track of them. They drifted away and by the time things settled down that anyone decided to start looking for them, nobody could figure out where they'd gone. So they spread out to search, been doing it ever since." His eyes were staring at a fixed spot. "All of them, alone."
"And they're here now. That's not a coincidence, Han. We both know that." Logan's body was masked, but his voice came through strong. "You found it, didn't you? What they lost."
"It was an accident," he said, sounding lost. "The fleet appeared out of nowhere and we . . . I panicked. Jumped without even checking, just to get away. And . . ." his jaw tightened even as his body went stiff. "I said I didn't mean to. I told them. It was supposed to be only a rumor, like Jedi."
"Just tell them where it is, then." Logan came forward but there was a different look in his eyes. "If it belongs to them, you can end this just by telling them."
"It's more complicated than that," Solo said. He didn't elaborate and it wasn't clear exactly what he was referring to. "I don't even know how they found out except . . . damn." He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "That's why I never let myself get drunk. Sorry, pal." Letting his arm drop, he fell silent.
"So now what, then? What are we going to do?"
"We?" Solo asked, turning to face Logan. The barest edge of a smile cracked his face. "When did this become a we?"
Logan stuffed his hands into his pockets, strode over to Solo. "Since I became a sucker for lost causes." He peered at Solo, his eyes gathering up all available light and gleaming. "Do you have a plan to end this? You know what needs to be done?"
Solo only nodded.
Logan chewed at his lip, stared off into the distance before letting his gaze settle back. "Then I'm in until it's over." Searching Solo's expression, he added, "That's what you hired me for, isn't it? So this can finish?"
"Is that what you do?" Solo asked. "Finish things?"
Logan grin was sparking wires. "I'm the best there is at it."
Solo laughed quietly, looked about to slap Logan on the shoulder before catching himself. Pivoting, he went toward the door. "Why are you here? Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not from around here. You're too clueless about everything that's going on."
Logan pressed his lips together and scratched at his face. "We got lost," he finally said, turning away also, his boots scraping against the floor. "I got separated from my friends and I've been trying to find them."
"Your friends are like you?" He tapped his hand to indicate.
"Yeah. No. Not really. We came out here to help someone but . . . we don't belong out here, this isn't the place for us." Under his breath he muttered, "Dammit, Chuck, you had to let your girlfriend drag us into this." In a more normal tone of voice, he said, "Normally we're easy to pick out in a crowd but here . . . I keep thinking I see them, but after seeing the third fuzzy blue person and having it turn out not to be the elf . . . they're not on the port. I don't know where they are, but it's not here."
"You'll find them," Solo said. "Big and empty as it is out here, you fall into the habit of running into the same ten people over and over again. I really can't explain it myself."
"I thought I'd like it out here," Logan said, stepping further into the darkness. His voice expanded, trying to scrape up against every wall, sounding large and hollow and sad, detached from his body. "I'm not a guy that likes to be around people all the time and when I first got separated I thought, it'll be a change of pace for once. Some peace and quiet before we find each other." He paused and when his voice came again it was as a mushrooming echo, a noise begging to be heard. "I hate it here. Back home, even when you're alone you're still part of things, you have this sense that everything is connected, in the sounds and the smells and the rest." He seemed to be shaking his head, or maybe it was just another motion entirely. "It's crowded but it's all thrown together, people huddled to ignore how empty and alone it is. Everything is so crammed and close, it's smothering. And then you go out and it's just as bad. I can't stand it. It's not solitude, it's cold and too quiet and sterile. Nothing smells right. You're too small in the face of it, I used to stare at the stars and wonder what they were all about, if I'd ever reach them. But all the way up here they're just as far away, always out of reach. You can keep travelling and you'll never get to where you want to go, or need to be."
"You're just not used to it." Solo didn't know what else to say. "A lot of grounders feel the same way."
"Maybe," Logan said. "But I wonder . . ." he trailed off, swiveling suddenly to face the door.
Seeing the motion, Solo stepped back, pressing himself against the wall next to the door, trying to keep out of sight. "What?" he mouthed to Logan.
Bending down, Logan crept toward the door, coming in under the window and raising himself until his eyes were barely peeking over the edge. Intent, he studied the area for a few seconds before ducking down and sliding near Solo.
"They're out there," he whispered.
"Who? The stormtroopers?" But Logan only shook his head and that's when Solo heard it.
The skittering. Soft, like the wind rustling over discarded bones.
"Dammit," Solo swore, reaching for his gun.
"No." Logan put his hand over Solo's, signaling for him to keep the weapon down. "That's not going to work."
"You've got another idea?"
"Yeah, I do." He removed his hand, braced it against the door. "But I've got to ask you first . . . this thing you found, it belongs to them, right?" Solo nodded and Logan continued, "And the reason you can't show them where it is, it's a good reason? You're not just being stubborn or trying to sell it to the highest bidder?"
"It was a good enough reason for me not to do those things," Solo replied. "Listen, you're going to have to trust me on this."
"I need to. That's why I'm asking. Can I?"
Solo didn't flinch. "You tell me."
Logan stared at him for another few seconds, then grunted and shifted back, fingers tapping against the door. "All right."
"You're going to trust me." Solo wasn't surprised, but he was wary.
"Yeah," Logan said, putting his ear to the door, eyes half-closed. His lips were barely moving as he spoke. "Because this has you frightened out of your mind and that kind of fear makes people honest."
"Thanks." Said in a dry rasp. He shifted, tucking one leg under him so that he was resting on one knee. "What's the plan, then?"
"They're nosing around the sides of the building. I'll draw them out and away, that'll give you a chance to run toward your ship. Wait there, and I'll join you."
"You'll join me? You don't even know where it is."
"I'll find you." There was utter certainty in his voice. "I'm good at that."
"I'll take your word for it." Solo wasn't looking directly at him. "You're sure about this."
"You got a better idea?"
"No," Solo said after a second's thought. "No, I don't."
"That settles it." He stood up and there was a wildness in his grin, a notion that Solo himself recognized but was incapable of feeling it down here, in this place of walls and ceilings and gravity and direction. "Ready when you are."
******
The port was still in its night cycle when Logan emerged. Sidling out carefully, he let the door shut behind him, not even bothering to quiet its final clang. The sound echoed through the zone, a bullet fired into the center of a meadow.
Even draping himself in the shadows, it didn't take them long to find him.
The coarse rattling was the first sign, too many legs pattering about on the metal floor. Slowly the ends of two eyestalks poked around a corner, bobbing almost comically. Less comical was the weapon that followed, its end smoldering dangerously. Another set came in from the other side, with just the tips of their long bodies showing. It reminded him of an old enemy, a memory that gave him an odd squeezing pain in his bones. He did his best not to think about it.
"He's not here," he called out to them, not really sure if they even understood English. Though everyone seemed to around here, for some reason.
Then he heard the unpleasant chittering and realized that the two were speaking to each other. Keeping his hands at his sides, he started to walk forward.
A voice from one of them stopped him. "Where . . ." It was said with great effort, like it had learned the language the long way around, by converting it into mathematics and bringing it back again.
"I don't know," he said, aware that both guns were trained on him. "If you do find him, I'd like to know, because the bastard is cheating me out of a day's pay." He punched his open palm. "If you leave anything of him, I'd like a crack at what's left."
The noises again, radio static crossed with broken gears. It was sending spasms down his spine to even listen to it.
"You know . . ." one of them, maybe the same one, finally said. "You're hiding him, he is near . . ."
"I told you already, I have no idea." The eyes, spheres somehow resisting all attempts to capture light, were looking him up and down. "What? The word of a man like me isn't good enough?"
On either side of him came the whine of weapons charging.
"I guess that answers that question," he said with a laugh. "But before you shoot me . . . you'll have to catch me first."
Then, darting forward, he slapped the weapon out of the nearest alien's hand. It fell to the ground, spinning as it did, while the Insepton pulled away. It screeched a series of notes from an atonal symphony, a racket that almost drowned out the other one firing.
Logan threw himself backwards, twisting as he did so that he landed on his feet and facing the other direction. There was a scorch mark on the wall in the shape of a flattened bird and the rising howl of the weapon priming again.
"This way," he shouted, breaking off into a run between the two buildings, while another blast charred a groove into the floor right behind him. His grim laugh seemed the only motion in the still air.
There was a brief burst of chatter again, while the one alien scooped its laser up. Both of them eased around the corner, hugging the walls and moving sinuously in swift pursuit.
******
The corridor had gone quiet when Solo crept out of the warehouse. He glanced at the two scars from the weapon's discharge, and unclipped his own laser from the belt.
He looked to his right, in the direction back toward the Comout sector and where his ship was docked. Off to his left and in the distance, he heard muffled explosions, two at a time but staggered.
"Just go to the ship," he told himself. "That was the plan, he can handle himself. He doesn't need you to be a hero, Solo. You just need to stay alive." Nothing in his voice sounded convincing. "Go to the ship and keep yourself in one piece."
It was the hollow tapping that made his decision for him.
Solo pressed himself tight against the wall and watched as the floor began to bulge and pulsate, finally cracking open once it had formed a near-dome. By that time Solo had ducked around the corner, watched cautiously. Another Insepton pulled its long body out of the hole, wriggling as it did so. Once topside, it hummed what sounded like a fractured song and made its way in the same direction as everyone else had gone.
"A third," Solo breathed. "Just go to the ship. Remember the plan. He doesn't need you to . . ."
But he couldn't take his eyes off the direction where everyone else had gone. Finally he stood up and jogged to where the hole was. He glanced down into its darkness and then further down the way. His lips were pressed into a tight line.
"Oh, the hell with it," he finally said, and ran off to follow where Logan and the others had gone.
******
In this sector the warehouses were placed almost haphazardly, every attempt at a grid broken by diagonal edifices, squares replaced by triangles, triangles preempted by rhombuses, giving him constant corners to dodge around but not a sense of where he was going or how close he was to losing them. As it was they seemed to be just as adept at tracking as he was, often appearing down corridors that he was fully intending to duck down and giving him barely a second to dive away before a laser blast flooded the area. Every move he made was countered but every gesture they triggered was equally matched, so that the lot of them were engaged in a strange game amongst the buildings, roaming about without gaining any ground.
But in retrospect he should have expected this. If what Solo said was true, then they'd been trained their entire lives to search for a small object in the midst of a vast Universe. Finding a man like him inside a small portion of the port was probably no challenge at all.
He glanced up, trying to find something else up there in the blackness, something other than dispassionate stars. There was nothing, of course. He'd been up here and out there and you could never convince him that was life. Life was the exhaled sigh of undisturbed nature, or the close confines of a bustling city, with all its scents and jagged rhythms. Out here, the pulse was too quiet, there was no connection he could make. He was used to being alone, but this was different because there were always reminders and potentials, the chance another face might have a sign in it that they understood. It was rare but the few times made it worth the search. He'd have no such luck here, all he had was severed signals and scrambled communications.
A quickening in the air interrupted his thoughts, forcing him to duck as a laser seared the air over his head. Another gashed against the ground and he set off running again. The only possible benefit to being out here, he considered wryly, was that he was not considered strange, that he might not be as much of an outsider.
Whirling around a corner, he nearly came face to face with an Insepton. Fortunately it was in the midst of taking apart a security droid, having knocked it over and literally sitting on top of it, its multi-jointed legs working efficiently to dissemble the droid.
It spotted him almost immediately, however, and leapt at him from its sitting position, managing a fair distance in the process. In theory I might not be an outsider, Logan thought, slashing with his claws to send it reeling back. The droid levered itself up and prepared to fire, while the Insepton delivered a casual kick with its back leg that crumpled its chest unit, all without turning around.
However, it did provide a distraction and Logan took the opportunity to make himself scarce. But even here they're still trying to kill me.
He hoped Solo was at the ship by now because he wasn't sure how he was going to be able to lose these things. He didn't want to outright kill them, because they were only hunting for what was rightfully theirs to begin with, but he suspected that there was more going on here than it seemed. If they didn't break off the chase soon, he'd have to use more drastic measures. Perhaps he'd give them a warning first.
Hearing the chittering again, he turned to see two of them coming down the hallway toward him, weapon hands already waving loosely to aim at him. With a broad grin, Logan took off again, pulling his stride into more of a sprint, taking a corner with a squeak of boots on metal and then pulling left rapidly, hearing lasers whizzing by in the spaces he had been.
The last turn brought him into a wider area. Taking a second to take stock, he noticed that the zone ahead was emptier, almost a courtyard of sorts. And beyond that was more tightly clustered buildings, very utilitarian in design. Even better, most of them seemed connected by a intricate latticework, walkways and stairs stretching from floor to ground and from building to building. That he could certainly lose them in.
Another blast screamed, too near this time, and Logan took off again.
******
They were moving fast, Solo was only able to follow them by tracking the echoes they made and the traces they left behind. Fortunately he was able to move in a straighter line as they didn't know he was following behind, although sometimes he got brief glimpses of the Inseptons as they glided between buildings. Or maybe he kept seeing the same one over and over again, he was only able to get glimpses of them anyway, viewed through the slits the buildings made, a lighter grey against the dark. He was impressed the chase had gone on for as long as it had, or that Logan hadn't killed them yet.
But they were maneuvering around the corridors easily, as much as the area formed a kind of maze, he never saw them double back. They must have studied the area before coming in and after a while he began to get the sinking feeling that they weren't moving as quickly as they could. Which suggested a possibility he didn't want to consider.
Dammit, Logan, be careful. Or they're going to change you from bait to prey.
Finally, he reached an open area, its expanse a direct contrast to the claustrophobic canyons that were behind him. Which was weird in itself for a design. Solo racked his memory for the layout of the port, trying to remember who occupied what sectors, doing his best to orient himself on the fly. It wasn't like this for aesthetic reasons, the port had no concept of that. It reminded him almost of a unloading area, although that made little sense.
Then he saw Logan dash out across the open zone, toward the grey structures that loomed on the other side of the expanse. No, it didn't remind him of a loading area at all, now that he thought about it.
Behind Logan, two Inseptons slid out, red-gold bodies seeming to ripple along the floor. They were firing constantly but kept hitting just short of him. Almost like they weren't even trying to aim anymore. Perhaps he was tiring them out. No, that couldn't be it.
But where the hell was he running to? Solo stared at the buildings, trying to look for some kind of insignia that might give him a clue. It was hard to focus on them properly for some reason, like some kind of haze was obscuring all the fine details. A haze or a . . . shimmer?
Oh no. Solo swore under his breath, recognizing finally what the area was.
It wasn't for loading or unloading at all.
It was a buffer.
A warning dying in his throat, Solo broke into a dead run.
******
Almost there now. Logan found himself staring at the floor as he ran, he wasn't winded but with the aliens behind he had to keep concentrating to make sure they weren't firing too close to him. There was a strange humming in the area but otherwise the zone was incredibly quiet, with no signs of life. Just the group of them, engaged in some mad chase. Glancing back, he saw the two Inseptons spreading out, apparently trying to flank him, guns waving to try to get a fix on him.
A few more seconds would get him in. The buildings looked so tightly packed that he'd no trouble losing them, then he could get back to Solo and get the hell out of here. Maybe get this over with finally. If he played his cards right, he might be able to convince Solo to help get him back together with his friends. The man was an utter bastard but he did try to play the game on his own terms. That was admirable in its way. Logan wouldn't have been too surprised to found that Solo had already gone, but he suspected that wasn't going to happen. Why he was going through with all this instead of lighting the hell out of here, Logan had no idea. All he knew was that the man was spooked. Spooked and maybe for the first time considering a cause other than his own. Maybe.
Logan didn't know why he wasn't getting the hell out of here. None of this was his fight but he had to admit, he was a little bit curious. Hopefully that wouldn't get him killed.
On cue the lasers fired again, drawing parallel lines in the metal floor just inches from where he had been a second before. Getting too close now, but one final push and he'd be right-
"Logan!"
The distant voice broke his stride and brought him to pause for just a second. What the-
He had no time to even turn toward the sound of the voice before someone slammed into his torso, knocking him off-balance and sending them both rolling sideways, banging up against the hard surfaces, the world becoming different patterns of light and dark as he tried to regain his equilibrium. He was aware of someone shouting at him but the words were blurred, sand jammed into a broken filter.
"Don't" perhaps and "you don't" and further "wait, there's, wait" and by that time momentum had given him the advantage again. Flipping the extra weight off his body he came down hard, his claws already out with the same icy cold slithering sensation that he never got used to, pressing them right toward the face of-
"Han?" he asked, the collage of colors and patterns resolving themselves into a now familiar face. Solo was on his back, breathing heavily, both hands up in a defensive gesture.
"Don't . . ." he said, "don't go any further, it's . . ." Logan had pulled his hand back, giving Solo room to lever himself up on one elbow. He flexed his shoulder, wincing. "Damn, you're solid, that was like running into a wall."
"What are you doing, Han?" Logan said quickly, eyeing the Inseptons, who were hanging back, as if confused. But that wouldn't last for long.
"I realized, it hit me as you were running, what they were doing," Solo panted. "What side of the port this was." Logan said nothing, merely waited for him to catch his breath. "I recognized it," Solo said, pointing to Logan's left. So close now, he realized that the humming he had heard before was coming from a thinly shimmering wall that ran from floor to ceiling.
One of the Inseptons glided forward, eyestalks tilted, perhaps trying to get a better look at Solo. Logan turned and snarled at it, brandishing his claws and with a stream of noises like wood being chewed it backed off. Its partner stayed near, almost hovering. He saw now that a third one was present as well.
"It's a seal," Solo said. "Past that is only vacuum. That's what they were trying to do, steer you into it." With a grimace Solo grabbed Logan's arm and pulled himself into a sitting position.
"But there's buildings in there, why would they . . ." Logan broke off when he saw a shape move beyond the field, sliding into view. It was a squat cylinder, set on top of four wire-thin legs ending in treads equally spaced around the body. A variety of arms, ranging from stubby weapons to what looked like surgical tools, were arranged around the sides of the unit. A curved and flowing piece with a widened end crested the top of the "head", set between two slanted strips that appeared to act as eyes. Those eyes, glowing faintly, regarded them without passion or warmth.
"That's why," Solo said, for some reason keeping his voice low. "It's full of robots. Don't move."
After a few seconds of staring at them, the robot pivoted away and went back into the further recesses of the zone, with nothing but the cold light of the eyeslits and a continuous whirring marking the retreat of its passage.
Solo made a noise that sounded like a cough. "Ah, they give me the creeps. You'd think with droids I'd be used to it but . . ." he shook his head. "They're not the same thing at all."
"What's in there? What was that?" Logan thought he saw more movements deeper inside but it might have just been his imagination.
"Dakkers." He squinted into the dimness. "Among other things."
"Hm." Logan cast one last glance at the robot, now totally faded into its surroundings, before turning to regard the other aliens standing nearby. As his gaze swept over them, all three raised their weapons again, and the rising pitch began to pierce the air again.
"Is that how it's going to be, then?" Logan wondered outloud, getting to his feet and preparing to leap. The tips of his claws scraped against the floor, forging shallow grooves into it. "I should have just done it this way in the first place."
"No!" Solo exclaimed, moving in front of him with his hands up. "Don't shoot!" The comment was directed toward the Inseptons. The whining was suddenly cut off but they didn't lower their weapons. "It's me you want, you know that."
"Him . . ." one of the Inseptons hissed. With no visible mouths, it was unclear which one was speaking. "You know where . . ."
Lowering his hands, Solo stared at them and said quite soberly, "I'm sorry, but I do." His face indicated that it was knowledge he'd rather not have.
Immediately they came forward, lasers charging again.
"Tell . . ."
"Say or you won't find . . ."
"You think you . . ."
"Come closer and you'll never know!" Solo said, cutting through their chatter and forcing them to a halt. "I'm serious about this," he said quickly. "You don't understand how the situation is . . . this guy here . . ." he jerked his head to the side to indicate Logan. "They hired him to follow me, in case I spill the coordinates. If I do, he has instructions to kill me. If even thinks I'm going to-"
He stopped as Logan laid the edges of his claws inches from Solo's throat. "Go ahead," he said in a low growl. "Keep talking. I could use the time off."
As one the aliens all swiveled to train their weapons on Logan.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Solo called out, directing their attention back to him. "If you kill him, they're going to know and all hell is going to break loose then. We're going to have to make a deal here, all right? For any of this to work out in anyone's favor, we're going to have to talk this out."
One of the Inseptons crawled over to Solo, lifting himself up a bit by bending his upper body, ensuring that his eyes were level with the other man's. This close, there was a shiny softness to its body, somewhere between a shell and skin. "Speak, then. Start, then."
"Everyone's claiming it, right? That's the whole problem, everyone wants a piece of it. Either for leverage, or for what it contains or because they think it symbolizes something." He was talking quickly and praying that the alien knew what he was saying, that it was more a question of communicating than understanding. If not, that was why they invented guns. "But it belongs to you, so nobody else should have it. Right? I get that, I want to help you, I want to get it back to you." It twittered, but said nothing else.
"Careful, Solo," Logan warned. "Don't think I'm not listening."
"Easy, easy," Solo replied. "I'm not giving anything up." To the Insepton, he said, "You let me walk out of here, I'll, ah, give you my flight logs. It's there, the location is in the records."
"Or tell us . . ." it hissed.
"I can't, I told you," Solo shot back. Logan took another step closer as a reminder. "You'll have to sort it out from there and I'll . . . I'll stall for time as best I can, to give you time to get there." He licked dry lips, trying to make eye contact with the bobbing orbs. "That's the best I can promise. That's the absolute best I can do."
"You're treading a thin line, bub."
The one before him didn't speak. The others swayed, moving briefly closer to each other and then backing away rapidly, as if encountering strange resistance.
"It's a need, so close . . ."
"What he says, if this is the way . . ."
"Finally find, let him tell . . ."
The lead Insepton seemed to stiffen. "Shut, stop." Its voice carried more of a snap to its fractured speech. "This deal, it's you?"
"It's the best I can do." He hoped his voice didn't sound too hoarse. The alien smelled of dust and longing, put into small cubes and packed away so that they wouldn't be forgotten. That made no sense. He had to focus.
"It's too much," Logan said. "No deal, take it back." He grabbed Solo by the shoulder with his free hand. "Tell them that it's off, that you're not doing it."
"No." He kept his voice firm, although he had to pretend the blades weren't at his throat to do so. I hope you have steady hands, pal. "I don't care what you do to me, or how much they're paying you. This has got to be done. It's the right thing." His eyes were trying to find the Insepton's, forge some kind of connection.
"Maybe, maybe, perhaps." It sounded like it was trying out the words for the sound. "But you . . . they? Who they?" The question was asked with a blunted suddenness and Solo was acutely aware of how close the laser was to his stomach.
"What do you mean?" Doing his best to redirect, he said, "I'm putting my life on the line here for this, are you going to-"
"They, you say they. In all the time, they." A hand made of hard flexible fingers probed at his shirt, like bent needles pressing at his skin. He suppressed the urge to flinch. "You never say but they. Where, who?"
"Who? Who are they?" With all the proximities his mind suddenly went blank on a likely culprit they might believe. Damn. What did they know, that they might buy?
"They're dangerous," Logan said, with a fuzzed menace. "They don't want you around. That's all you need to know. Got it?"
The statement didn't seem to faze the alien, who kept leaning into Solo. "No, we'll take. Not this, but they. Have no plan, and say. They. Have to say."
"Maybe none," the other chimed in.
"Maybe him."
"Maybe," the lead one noted.
"Logan," Solo said slowly, "maybe you'd like to explain more to our new friends what your employers are capable of." He was starting to get a sense this wasn't going well.
"We're normally not ones for explaining," came the reply, and Solo had no idea if this was his way of sounding threatening or his idea of a joke.
He took a short breath and tried to keep his voice calm. The alien seemed to be quivering, as if getting ready. They might have to shoot their way out of this after all. He started to let his hand drift toward his belt. "But specifics might help them get a better idea of what they're-"
It started somewhere below sound, that was the only warning. A deep throated humming pervaded the entire area and interrupted the rest of his sentence. The back two Inseptons suddenly spun, but there seemed to be no source to the noise, it went so far down the scale that Solo felt his teeth rattling, like holes were being punched in the air itself and all that was solid was leaking out. How long it went on for he didn't know but he swore the dimness around them got even darker. But that was impossible.
"Now what?" Logan muttered, taking his claws away from Solo.
"No," the alien said. One or maybe all three at once. "No." "No no no." "No." It may have been their own language.
"Stay where you are!" came a booming voice, like ice tumbling down a steep hill. It was coming from between the buildings, on their side, although the origin of it was nowhere to be seen. "Nobody is to move!"
"Who?" The aliens were milling about. Solo thought he saw a glow verging on gradients of crimson coming from the spaces between the spires, bloodlets of light slowly spilling across the distance.
Solo seized on the moment. "It's them." One of the Inseptons pivoted swiftly, almost a question in its stance.
"Them? They?"
"Yeah." This time it was Logan who jumped in. "Now this situation is going to be taken care of."
The alien seemed to ignore him. "This deal, you'll have? From now, done?"
"Stall them. I'll get what you need. Meet us outside the port. All right?"
"Leave him where he is." The voice was closer, vibrating in every instance of the air.
"It's a deal, then?" He tried to make his voice as insistent as possible.
The Insepton tipped itself a bit, perhaps its version of a nod. It emitted a short cluster of sounds to its mates and they suddenly sped off toward the buildings. Solo thought he saw tall shadows draped like spikes across the floor, starting to move toward them.
When they were some distance away, Logan asked, "Who do you think that is?"
"I have no idea," Solo admitted, not taking his eyes off the area in question. His laser was already in his head. "But all the same to you, I'd rather not find out. I think it's time to go."
He was starting to walk away when a hand on his arm stopped him. "Listen, Han." Turning, he found Logan regarding him with an unreadable expression. "Thanks." And that was all he said.
Solo stood there for a second without a reply. Then, with a twitch at the edge of his lip, he replied, "Yeah, well, watch where you're going next time and you won't have to thank me."
Logan snorted and turned his head to hide his own smile.
A scream went out from the gaps in the building, long and sustained and shredded, overlapped in a chorus. The glow was embedded in the air and the glow was closer and the glow was gone. The aliens were nowhere to be seen.
The two men exchanged glances and without another word, ran for it.
******
Entering the Comout sector again was being encased in a cold shell. Neither man commented on the eerie glassy emptiness of it, although several times their own dark reflections, played out in angular permutations, reminded them of other pursuers that walked sideways edges and lurked around every corner, waiting to step out of nowhere and snag them. There were voices leaked into the air, memories slowly falling out of solution, precipitates of words cascading down lighter than flakes, piped in from other sectors of the port, from dreams, from every conversation that had never existed.
The flickering silence didn't seem to bother Logan, although it gave Solo a certain sense of unease. "The docking bays are over this way, I'm pretty sure." Logan only nodded, his eyes elsewhere, somewhere further into thought.
"Would you have made a deal with them?" The question, when finally asked, was more contemplation than accusation.
"I don't know," Solo replied. He glanced over at the other man, trying to gauge his reaction. "I told you, it's complicated."
"And you don't like complicated."
"Right on the first guess." They turned a corner and reached a long row of circular doors sunk into thickened walls. The air was slightly cooler over here, their footsteps echoing a little further. "I'd really like to just step out of the way and let the bunch of them fight it out amongst themselves. Let them all kill each other over it. It's just a stupid . . ." He stopped at the first door, took a small device out of his belt and held it toward the entryway. It made a low flat beep, causing him to tap the side of it. The same noise came out and Solo frowned, continuing to walk down the corridor. "It's not worth it. That's all."
"You seem to be in the minority on that."
That caused Solo to laugh dryly. "Seems that way. The Inseptons want it back because it used to be theirs, the Empire wants it because they want to own everything, then there's all the scientists and cults . . . get this, on Altarus Four there's a group that believes they're the physical embodiment of it, that it's broken down and dissolved into the universe and reformed as them."
"Really."
The next door coaxed the same response from the device. "Honest. All they do is talk about unlocking the secrets inside of them. And if they ever run into an Insepton, they follow the damn thing around, asking it to take them back and show them the way." He laughed again, shaking his head. "That's the galaxy for you, weird place. I keep expecting to get used to it, and I don't. Know what I mean?"
"I think so." Another door, another dry beep. "With my friends, I see a lot of strange things . . . but it's like the same strange things, all the time." He rubbed his hands together, absently cracking his knuckles. The noise was gunshots in the quiet. "I've got this friend, sometimes she loses control and turns into this . . . force of nature." There were red fires in his eyes and the barest hint of a tremor in his voice. "And we have to stop her, every time. I think it's maybe three times already. And I want to keep telling her when it happens, this isn't going to work, it's time to try something new." He shrugged. "But it feels new each time, for some reason. At least everyone else seems surprised."
"Mm," Solo said. This time the device gave off a slightly higher pitched beeping and he nodded to himself, pleased. "And what does she try to do each time, kill you?"
Logan thought about this. "More or less. She never has a real specific plan."
"Hey, take my advice for what it's worth, but it might be time for some new friends." He was fiddling with some buttons on the device.
"I'll keep that in mind." As he spoke there was a single long note and the door spiraled open, twisting like an iris. There was a whooshing noise as the pressures equalized.
"Ah, here we go, then. Finally. Come on." Solo stepped into the long corridor, and Logan followed shortly afterwards.
"Welcome to my ship," Solo said, as they walked through the docking connector, toward the body of a craft that was both jagged and curved, a sort of dull grey with a number of bumps and crevices that might have hid sensors and other instruments. Tapping the small device again, the ship hummed as if in recognition, a door opening like gentle jaws, revealing the darkened interior. Solo tapped the side of it as if greeting an old friend.
"Fastest ship you'll find around," he said as they came inside. The interior was somewhat cramped, with very little open space, although the center of the ship held a circular area with what appeared to be a couch of sorts. Across from it was an engineering station, with lights blinking placidly. The cockpit was toward the front, set off-center on the ship. "Just give me a minute to warm this baby up and we'll be on our way."
"You know where you're going?" Logan was poking around casually, doing his best to avoid stepping on anything that looked remotely important.
"Yeah." Solo was checking various panels and displays on the console, muttering to himself and adjusting certain settings.
Meanwhile, a spot on the wall caught Logan's eye. Stepping over to it, he realized that it in the shape of a handprint. Tracing its contours, he noticed that it was burned into the metal, and went a few inches deep. Frowning, he stepped away from it.
Then his gaze went over to one darkened corner of the ship, and his eyes widened.
"Han . . ." he said.
"So just go and make yourself comfortable, we'll be leaving in a few-"
"Han," Logan hissed and Solo turned to see the man's claws already out as he pointed toward the back of the ship.
"What are you . . . damn," he said, finally seeing what Logan was indicating.
The blank visor of a stormtrooper's helmet was staring right at them.
Solo already had his laser out. "Stay back, I'll take care of-"
"Wait," Logan said, having already covered most of the distance. The trooper hadn't moved the whole time thus far and remained still even when Logan walked right up to him. He sniffed the air. "I think he's . . ."
He tapped the trooper on his arm and with an almost comedic slowness, the body slid from where it had been propped in the corner and tumbled to the floor.
"What the hell?" Solo said, racing over even as Logan bent down to examine the body. "He's dead?"
"The internal defenses must have got him," Logan said. He tapped the center of the armor, near the chest. "This must be what killed him." His fingers indicated a neat, maybe two-inch hole drilled right into the armor.
"That's not possible," Solo said, and when Logan gave him a strange look he explained further, "The ship has no internal defenses, it's too dangerous."
Logan's eyes narrowed. "Maybe he was shot and crawled into the ship."
"No, no," Solo countered. "He wasn't shot, look." Getting down on one knee, he pointed to the edge of the hole. "If it was a laser there would be burn marks around the edges. This is neat, there's no heat scarring at all. But what causes that?"
"So someone else killed him."
"Looks like it," Solo said. "The troopers must have found the ship while we were running around, and set up this guy to catch us in case we snuck around and tried to escape."
"Except someone else got to him first." Logan didn't seem pleased at all to have discovered that revelation. "Who?"
"More importantly," Solo answered, sitting up straighter, bringing his laser up, "where are they now?"
"Do you really want to find out?" Logan asked grimly.
And from the deeper recesses of the ship, there was a clatter.
