Chapter One
DEEP DRIVE

Smoke, dust, dirt and the decisive smell of fuel. These were the keywords that crossed her mind, whenever she entered a cantina. And this one in particular – the fifth in the street – seemed to be no exception to the rule. Two Devorian thugs with blasters at each side guarded the entry, while luminous advertisings shed neon light upon their grim faces. Handbills and pieces of flimsiplast were scattered up and down the street like strange decoration. The bold holodisplay above the entry read Junk Palace, a name that did not leave much room for joyious expectations.

Slowly, almost reluctanly, she passed the security guards and was welcomed by a wave of warm air. The bar was a scene of booze. Skinny waitresses hurried around, serving drinks to all kind of species or taking orders from guests that had seated themselves in dark and reticent niches. Dim lights glimmered through the foggy air of the cantina.

The lights of play cards.

Well, look at this, she thought sarcastically, but neither surprised, nor impressed. A little, illegal casino. Now, that's cute.

For a moment, Mara Jade paused at the foot of the staircase that led from the entry down into the main chamber, and inhaled the sticky air that was infected with an almost irritating scent. The stinky smell of trash that spread across Ten Mile Plateau from the eastern junkyards seemed to work it's way into even the farest corner of the cantina. She had a notion that this was the reason why the proprietor had chosen the name Junk Palace in the first place. An homage to the pleasant fumes of the underworld.

She tried not to sigh in frustration. All night long, while she had been searching bars, nightclubs and cantinas like this one for a guy named Meelam, she had asked herself, why Karrde needed her to take care of business in the outskirts of Ord Mantell's capital anyway. Not that Coruscant's lower levels were any more pleasant, but the last person Mara had met and who had not taken to drinking yet had been the small, beefy Bith from the spaceport personnel that had collected the landing charge.

Strechting out to the Force, she tried to concentrate and searched for focus. There was no point in lamenting; she had work to get done with. And the sooner she found Meelam, the sooner she could rejoin with theStarry Ice and leave the system.

Mara cast a quick glance the chronometer at her wrist.

10 p.m., local time.

Looks like I'm right on time for the late night show. Everyone has exceeded all healthy alcohol limits by now., she thought. So, this is where the real fun begins.

Reminding herself of the sense enhancing Forcetechniques she had been trained in by Emperor Palpatine long years ago, she let her gazes roam the chamber and its niches. Known and unknown presences touched her senses, human and alien likewise. There she felt Omogg, the Drackman warlady, a very famous and very rich gambler. Mara sensed her at the far end of the chamber, where she was breathing methan through her helmet as usual. With her were two Gotals, a Bothan, a Rodian and a bunch of Twi'lek dancers that had gathered around a Sabacc table.

Underneath her white cloak, Mara placed a hand on the belt pocket, where half a million Credits waited to be spend, and smiled involuntaryly.

Not yet, she reminded herself. Not yet!

After carefully checking the cantina for any sources of danger, Mara let her senses come to rest again and proceeded further towards the bar, where drunkards clung desperately to their glasses. It was time for a drink, even if it was just for show.

The humanoid with turqoise scaleskin behind the counter turned to face Mara, as she pulled up a bar stool and sat down. He must have spotted her right away, though it was not hard to tell that she did not usually belong into such environment. His greenbrown eyes seemed to glow and reflected the dim light like polished crystal.

"G-go-good evening, Missy," he managed to say in broken Basic, mustering her outlines with great care. "Ho-how may I hel-help y-you?"

Oh great, a barkeeper with a speech defect.

"I'll take..." She skimmed through the menu card displayed right above the bar. "I'll take a glass of Corellian brandy."

"Not-t a v-ve-very feminine drink," the barkeeper commented. "D-does not su-su-suit a beauty like you, don't y-you th-think?"

Mara glanced at him, but said nothing.

"One glass-s of Core-rellian brandy. As y-you wish, Missy."

At that precise moment, she felt a tickle on her left shoulder. The tickle became a pull and she nearly slipped of the bar stool. Turning around slightly, she caught sight of a drunken Rodian who purred an order towards the barkeeper. He pulled another time and tried to drag her away from the counter.

"Stop that!" she said warningly and ill-tempered. But the Rodian merely blinked and spat out a low-levelled comment.

Mara did not bother pulling her blaster from its sleeve holster. Clenching her fists, she let her right arm shot upright, aiming at the Rodian's proboscis. Dazzled, the alien tumbled backwards, before her second punch hit him in his stomach and knocked him out. With some satisfaction, she watched him drop unconsciously into the crowd around the counter, before she returned to her stool.

The humanoid barkeeper whistled through is pointy teeth.

"Y-you a-are n-o-ot to be temp-p-pered with, Missy."

Then he hurried the fix her drink.

She leaned casually against the counter and beheld the pale neon writings of the menu card once more. Engrossed in thought, she waited in silence, until the barkeeper set down her Corellian brandy in front of her with tintinnabulation. Mara opened her mouth in order to reply, when she suddenly felt the darkskinned, well cared-for hand of a human on her shoulder. "I'll pay for her," the man said.

A few Credit coins flew past her face and danced on the counter for a second, before the barkeeper got a grip on them. Mara tossed around on her stool, eyes opened widely.

"Calrissian!" she yelled in surprise. "What the blazes are you doing here?"

"I'm glad to see you too, Jade," he answered and with a charming smile, Lando Calrissian took her right hand in his and kissed it softly. "Long time no see."

"I'm sorry," Mara said. "I meant no offend. I've just not been prepared to find you in a place such as this. So, tell me, how did you find me here?"

"Find you?" he replied irritated. Frowning, he studied her face for a moment. "As a matter of fact, I was under the impression that it was you who found me."

Mara's eyebrows rouse in confusion. But then it dawned upon her.

"You're here as Karrde's account executive."

"I guess so, but I'm more like account executive to the account executive. Karrde gave me a HoloCall only an hour ago and asked me to watch out for you. He said that you haven't reported for more than twenty hours since your arrival on Ord Mantell, but he assured me that we'd meet sooner or later."

"I was not notified," she said, trying to suppress a new wave of frustration. "If I had been, we would have met earlier. Would've spared me a whole lot of trouble."

"That's true," he answered and threw a look over his shoulder, as if he was afraid of being overheard. "Care to sit down at a more private place?"

Mara took her brandy and let him guide her throw the crowd of guests and towards one of the niches that had been abandoned by a group of Sullustans. Calrissian waited for her to take of her cloak and sit down, before he slipped into the niches and sat down himself. Stroking the brims of her brandy glass, she watched his neatly dressed appearance through the semi-darkness.

"Well, to be of service for you and the Smugglers' Alliance, I need to know why did Karrde send you here," Calrissian said slowly. "He was very vague, when we talked on the HoloComm."

"No-one talks about such sensitive information via HoloComm. Only the Force knows who might be able to intercept the transmission," Mara replied. Choosing the right words, she stared into the depths of the dark brown liquid in her glass. "For a few months now, the Smugglers' Alliance is having problems with pirate gangs boarding our ships and plundering our cargo. First we suspected the Hutts to hire criminals like the BloodScars for the job, but Karrde's negations with Sheba the Hutt didn't prove anything. Thus, the only possibility to protect ourselves from new pirate assault is to upgrade the security and technical defense systems of our ships."

"Ah," Calrissian said, smiling slightly. "Now I see why Karrde wanted me to intervene. He'd send you to find a man called Meelam, didn't he?"

Mara narrowed her eyes.

"He did. But how do you fit into this puzzle, Calrissian?"

Lando presented her a short beaming smile and leaned forward, his forearms crossed on the edge of the table.

"Obviously you're having some trouble making contact with Meelam and his agents," he explained.

"And so, full of Knightly nobleness, you hurried to save the helpless maid?" Mara asked ironically. Though Calrissian must have noticed the seed of violated pride behind her words, he didn't give away his thoughts. His smile did not fade and his pearl white teeth still beamed in the dim light.

"Knightly nobleness?" he retorted at last, sounding amused. "Our names may start with the same consonant, but Luke's ideals didn't rub off on me yet. No, I used the opportunity to submit an offer to Karrde myself. Let's call it a counter trade. The technology you're searching for is not just highly effective, but also very expensive and surely not available in mud hole like Ord Mantell. In general, there're only a few people knowing about Meelam's improvement inpest control, if you take my meaning. Not every tradesman who happens to come along belongs to the circle of insiders. Even a fair businessman like Talon Karrde or one of his agents needs to be introduced to Meelam in person. I, as a customer of his, may recommend you. It'll make everything much easier and faster for you, instead of begging Meelam to meet you."

"I see," Mara said. "Still, I fail to see what's in it for you."

"Nothing that will displease you, I assure you," Calrissian said and watched her thoroughly.

"I only hope your conversation will help me forget the senseless waste of time and the trouble Meelam caused me," Mara commented with a sigh and took a sip from the brown liquid that stuck to the glass like syrup. Watching her counterpart from above the brim of the glass, she saw the corners of Calrissian's mouth rise vaguely again.

"Well, I'm sure we'll come to terms," he said knowingly.

--------------- to be continued...