Spirit of the Shifting Sands
Disclaimer George Lucas and Lucasfilm own these wonderful; characters. I just use them for my own amusement. No Jedi techniques for gaining credits were used.
Chapter 6
Luke stood at the door between his room and hers and watched as Mara dug into the canvas carryall she'd lugged from Mos Eisley to Anchorhead and back again. Pulling out what looked to be a brush and a comb, she laid them on the bed beside her and began to unravel her hair.
The Jedi Master watched, fascinated, as it came out of its intricate coils and plaits - thick, shining and the colour of a Tatooine sunset. He involuntarily stepped forward as, finally, it fell about her shoulders and curled to below her waist.
Mara ignored Luke, although she felt his steady regard and pulled the sturdy brush firmly through the red-gold mass. Grabbing the comb, she selected a lock of hair and raised her hand.
Panic galvanised Luke into speech. "No!" He'd suddenly realised that it wasn't a comb but some sort of cutting implement.
Mara stopped, her hand arrested in mid-air. "What?"
"Don't. Please."
"Don't what! Skywalker?"
"Don't cut your hair. Please," he begged.
"But...but I have to change my appearance and cutting my hair is the most obvious solution. My hair is one very obvious thing about me."
"Won't a wig do instead?"
She held up a hank. "In case you haven't noticed," she drawled dryly, "I have a lot of hair. A wig would have to fit over this lot. I'd look ridiculous and, as it probably wouldn't fit correctly, it might fall off while I was dancing."
"Extensions then," he babbled feverishly. "Do it differently. Just don't cut it, Mara."
Mara looked into his face, astonishment written large all over hers. "Skywalker! Jedi are not supposed to be interested in cosmetic touches and certainly not in hair styling."
He opened and shut his mouth. "I know, but.... it would be a crime."
"Luke," she stressed gently. "It will grow."
"No!" he burst out again. "Don't do it. There must be another way. Can you not add locks of a different colour? Like Boba Fett and his Wookiee scalps?"
"Fett had those hanging from his armour, not stuck onto his head!!!" Her eyes closed in disbelief. She hadn't realised this was so important to him but he wasn't taking time to think of the risks they ran.
"Mara…"
"It's not practical," she raised her voice in exasperation. Now she remembered one of the reasons why her relationship with Luke was so volatile. She was the practical one and he was the idealist. "I have to be able to dance tomorrow. Not scour Mos Eisley for...for ...Hair Pieces," she spat.
Luke took another pace forward. "Please, Mara, don't cut it." A little of the farm boy which crept out occasionally showed itself. "It's beautiful." He reached a gentle hand and caught a red-gold shining curl and slipped it rhythmically through his fingers. "The colour - I've never seen that shade on anyone else, but I've seen it in the sky during a Tatooine sunset." He dropped his head a little shyly and she could see the boy he'd been. He peered up at her. "Your hair… it always reminded me of… home."
Mara's impatience with Luke suddenly faded away at his words. "I tell you what, Jedi Master. I'll think about it," she sighed. "I could dye it, I suppose." She shook her head bemused at the Jedi Master's uncharacteristic behaviour. "I don't want to be Mara Jade tomorrow. Somebody may know me from before."
"But it was a long time ago."
"Some people have long memories, Skywalker. I need to be Arica, the down on her luck 'artiste' returning to the scene of her greatest triumphs accompanied by her 'agent and minder'.
"Gorez Melosh,"
"Who?"
"Gorez Melosh," Luke announced triumphantly. "My character's name. He's not a Tatooine man. No one knows where he comes from. Not even his protégée and mistress."
"Skywalker!" Mara's temper began to heat up again. She wasn't sure about the 'mistress' part.
"What about a Force illusion?"
"Eh?"
"What about a Force illusion? So that you will leave your hair as it is."
So he was back to her hair again. He was nothing if not persistent. "I'm not strong enough and you know it. I can't keep up a Force illusion for long enough," but she put the cutter back into the carryall. Luke breathed a sigh of relief.
*******************************
Several hours later Luke sat up in his bed and switched on the light at a low illumination. He wasn't going to be able to sleep tonight. Pulling his robe on over his underwear, (he'd just stripped off and fallen into bed earlier - bone weary or so he'd thought, but he'd not been able to close his eyes) he stood at the same position he'd been in earlier. At the open door connecting his room with Mara's.
She lay fast asleep, but it wasn't peaceful. She tossed and turned, muttering restlessly. Something bothered her. Luke felt the same unease. It was all to do with what lay ahead. He had decided he didn't want to know, but he'd looked into as many possible scenarios as he could. Something was eluding him. There was a factor he wasn't taking into consideration and he hoped it wasn't a fatal mistake for both of them. He'd tried meditating - going back into his memories of the brief time he'd spent at Jabba's palace. Nothing. Luke cleared his mind. The Force would let him know when he was ready to learn more.
Closing Mara's door, he pulled on his clothes, grabbed his cloak and wandered past a different receptionist. This one paid no more attention to him than the last one had. 'It's nice to think that I'm this imposing figure, which makes people sit up when I pass.' He chuckled lightly to himself.
Arriving at docking bay 620 he keyed the Falcon's entrance hatch.
"Wha....! What….!" Han stumbled from his cabin, half-dressed and blaster in hand.
"It's me, Han - Luke." He remarked gently, hoping not to startle Han into discharging his blaster. "I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk. I ended up here. I didn't know you were here," He shrugged, blue eyes oddly veiled. "Sorry if I woke you."
Han eyed the younger man carefully, yawned, and then headed towards the Falcon's inadequate galley facility. "Chewie's still sleeping so keep it quiet, will ya? I don't want to have to deal with several tonnes of too-tired furball tomorrow."
Luke smiled and removed his cloak. "Thanks pal."
"What's up?"
"I wish I knew. Something's wrong."
"On this blasted sandball? Luke.... Luke, when did anything ever go right with us?"
"Maybe when you married my sister and got yourself a bunch of children."
'Oh ho', Han thought. 'Luke's in that frame of mind. Wonder what brought this on?' "This hasn't anything to do with the little scene you and Jade put on for the benefit of any passing Mos Eisley citizen, would it?"
Luke flushed. "No. 'Course not," he answered a little too quickly and Han was instantly suspicious. Leia wouldn't like this at all. If Luke was having fantasies about Mara Jade, of all people... She liked the red-haired trader; she did not trust her or see her as a suitable life mate for her brother. Oh boy!
Han pushed the mug of hot chocolate in Luke's direction. "This may help you sleep, kid."
"Maybe.... Han, what do you remember about that last time at Jabba's?"
Han took a sip of his caf. "I remember the pain and all the rush of feelings, the overload of memories flooding into my brain. It was weird. Leia had held me all too briefly and I couldn't see her, but I heard her voice and she always smells of flowers. Even in Jabba's or the Death Star garbage compactor Leia always smelled of flowers. I was blind, but somehow I was glad to be out of the living hell that being frozen in carbonite was. I heard the sounds of all the dregs of the galaxy - all congregated in that one place and they were laughing at me. I never much thought about it since. I didn't want to, I guess."
"What did you feel when we came for you?"
"Relief that you hadn't given up on me, that Leia still loved me and this overall surge of anger. But it was mainly the relief of finally being free of the carbonite. If I was going to die I would go down living till the last possible minute. I always knew if I was alive and out of the carbon freeze there was always the chance I could escape....somehow. I'd been out of things so long I didn't comprehend the change in you. I didn't believe you could get us out of there. Sure, you'd pulled miracles out of nothing before, but I thought that was luck. You proved a lot to me that day."
"What do you know of Firith Olan? What can you remember about him?" asked Luke. "There's something not right about his place in all of this. According to Ghent's figures and from most reports, Olan wasn't at Jabba's. He wasn't on Tatooine until well after Jabba's death. So how could he have all of the codes for the Hutt's personal accounts?"
Han crossed to the computer terminal and punched in a series of commands. He grinned the famous lop-sided smile that had lit up numerous holovids over the years. "One good thing about being hitched to the former chief of state is.... everyone rushes to fix your hunk of junk and improve the specs on her communication arrays."
"Ah…. They've upgraded the computer."
"Yup. Karrde had Ghent send these to me, but I was too tired to look at them tonight. I'll copy them - maybe Artoo can do something with them. You have brought Artoo - haven't you?"
"'Course I have. He's at home - in Anchorhead." Luke grinned. "I've set up base very near my old home. I didn't want to drag Artoo with us. I've rigged up a very tiny monitor, which can communicate with Artoo. Not at vast distances, but if I leave him at the house it'll be fine. We're not going to be that far away. Just across the Jundland Wastes. I think it might be a tad suspicious if I sent a droid ahead of me."
Han yawned.
Luke pulled on his cloak and prepared to leave. "I'm sorry, old friend, for waking you up like that. But it's good to know you'll be with us when crunch time comes."
Han gave his brother-in-law one of those looks. "Oh goody." He watched sleepily as Luke departed the Falcon and disappeared into the early light. "What did he just say…?" Han mumbled and then frowned. "What was just across the Jundland wastes from Anchorhead? His stomach descended into his boots. He had a really bad feeling about this.
**********************************
Mara awoke, rose and headed for the shower. There was no sound from Luke's room. 'He's probably still asleep. I won't disturb him.' She considered sending through a light probe to see if he was awake, but decided against it.
'I really should cut my hair, it's the best solution despite what old gloomy socks through there thinks. I've never seen anyone else with hair like mine. It is too distinctive. I've never met Olan, but there will be others there who do know who I am. I've got to make myself seem different enough so they don't make a connection.' But her hand went instead to a bottle of dark brown hair colorant. Mara made her decision and started on her hair.
There was a gentle tap at the door and she didn't need to query the identity to know that it was Luke. He hadn't been asleep at all. He sauntered in carrying a package and a bag that smelled like breakfast.
"I got you a present."
She took the package tentatively. The last thing he'd given her was his father's lightsaber so she had learned to be wary of Jedi bearing gifts. Inside were several coiled hairpieces in varying shades. Mara was inexplicably touched by his thoughtfulness. She hadn't really wanted to cut her hair, but had felt it necessary. She wanted to remain alive at the end of this mission after all.
"I was unsure what to get, so I just got a selection," he stammered.
Mara smiled her thanks and Luke grinned back at her with relief.
"This also came for you, from the Wild Karrde. What is it?"
"Just an idea I had to add to my disguise," and held up some little mottled objects. "A set of false Fayrian spikes for my forehead."
Luke laughed, then stared as she removed the towel wound round her head. The red-gold hair now tumbled darkly round her face.
"You didn't cut it after all," his eyes were amazed. A warm feeling rushed through him.
"Go away, Skywalker, and let me get dressed but leave my half of the food."
"It's all for you, Jade. I breakfasted with Han and Chewie on the Falcon. I ended up there last night. I couldn't sleep."
Mara stopped rubbing her hair and looked exasperatedly at him. "Luke, you should get some rest. I'm not going into a place like the B'Omarr monastery with you if you've not had a decent night's sleep. Besides it makes you as cranky as hell."
"It does not!" he exclaimed indignantly.
She eyed him with amusement. "I've spent enough time tramping through forests and the like with you. Don't argue. I know when you're tired."
"But..."
She stood up and slowly advanced towards him. "Skywalker - your feeble skills are no match for mine if you haven't had a decent rest."
"What skills are those? No - maybe I don't want to know. But Jade, you know I can survive for a long period of time without sleep. I can always go into a Jedi hibernation trance. I'm fine."
Mara surveyed him. She had come to know this man very well over the last ten or so years and funnily enough even more in the last few weeks and she could tell he was tired. 'Probably worrying about me,' she thought. Putting her arms around him, she kissed him gently on the cheek. Luke wrapped his own arms round her waist and they stayed like that in silence just drawing comfort from the other's nearness.
"Got to keep up the practice for our masquerade, Jade." He kissed her again firmly before stepping away from her. "The B'Omarr Monastery?" he queried softly.
"You're not surprised at all."
"No," Luke replied. "Not really. As soon as you identified the attackers at Tosche station being linked to the Prada attack."
"I knew as soon as Karrde mentioned the fateful words. 'It's as if Jabba has returned. Someone is using Hutt methods.'"
"You felt fear and couldn't understand why you did." Luke sighed. "The Force hunch, huh? It has kept us alive."
Mara nodded and watched as Luke stifled a yawn. "I'm okay… I can get a nap… later."
"Now, Jedi," Mara instructed. "Go and sleep for an hour or two. I've to turn myself into Arica."
"Okay," he yawned again. "Bring me out of it in an hour. Remember, I'm coming with you."
"I hadn't forgotten. Now go."
He wandered into his room and subsided onto the bed leaving the door wide open, but within seconds his breathing had slowed and his eyes were shut. He was asleep. Mara brushed his hair back from his forehead and covered him with a blanket. Shaking her head at her own foolishness she hurried to get ready.
The exercise suit covered her from ankle to neck to wrist. It was skin tight, but the material was flexible enough that it allowed you to move. It was the material used in the best dance schools on several worlds as it stretched and breathed like skin. She assessed her appearance. It made her look as if she had a blue body. Winding several pieces of black gauze around her breasts and adding a skirt made of a multitude of diaphanous, black veiling, her outfit was almost complete. Soft black ankle boots slipped securely on her feet. In the limited area of her room she tried a few simple warming up exercises and was satisfied with the way the ensemble felt. Yes. This worked well. The outfit was seductive, but showed no flesh. She didn't want to admit that she had absolutely no Fayrian blood in her veins. Looking at her creamy smooth skin would have given the game away. Fayrians had little mottled patches all over their bodies.
Luke had chosen well, she thought as she pulled the hairpieces out for inspection. Plaiting and coiling her now darkened locks, she added several coloured skeins. It gave her quite an exotic appearance. The only problem was that the hairpieces were quite heavy, but she could put up with that. Now to affix the temple spikes and make sure they were attached securely to her forehead. I can't seem to be shedding them as I dance. She glanced into the mirror. 'Eyebrows!' They were still red. She added a form of beading in blue and silver to go with the heavy eye make-up she sported. A fascinating beauty faced her - the face mysteriously unfamiliar. Sounds from next door made her smile, it looked like the Jedi Master was stirring.
"Mara.... I...." Luke stopped speechless, blue eyes still heavy with sleep.
"Will I do?"
He swallowed nervously, at a loss for words, but suddenly, vitally aware of the change in the woman he desired. He'd never been comfortable dealing with sophisticated beauties.
"I...," he backed off.
"Skywalker!" she growled. "It's still me. You won't convince anyone that you're my 'lover' if you act like this. No one will believe you could ever have a hold over me," she muttered darkly.
Luke swallowed again looking trapped, his throat very dry. Mara looked like the kind of woman Leia steered him towards at diplomatic functions and usually after a few seconds of nervous mumbling Han would take pity on him and risk Leia's wrath by kindly steering him away again.
A hint of an amused smile slid slowly across lips, which had been painted a pale blue. Mara moved sensuously towards him, trying to smoulder in Luke's direction and not laugh hysterically at his panic. Blue tipped nails ruffled his hair and ran down his face. Luke was now pressed flat against the doorframe. There was nowhere for him to go.
"Skywalker - you've faced two death stars, umpteen enemies and you're panicking at the sight of me with my warpaint on. It's just me."
Luke wryly acknowledged her hit, but a twinkle returned to his blue eyes. "Ahem. Mara." He held out an opaque jar of some brown sludge-like liquid and a pair of plastigloves. "Could you do my face and hair, since you made a fairly reasonable job of your own?" He was lying. Mara looked stunning.
She batted a pair of enormous blue eyelashes in his direction. "Sure," she husked throatily. The beleaguered Jedi Master felt his body temperature rise dramatically. When she'd finished, Luke had a swarthy complexion and dark hair. A wicked scar slashed up his left cheek and gave him just that extra edge of danger. He too had changed his clothes - tight black pants and a brown tunic, old brown desert boots, topped by a long brown coat. Mara had to admit he looked good. Strapped to what Mara noticed as strong, powerful thighs was a very dangerous blaster. Mara put hers in its usual place in its wrist holster.
As they surveyed themselves in the reflector Luke gave a satisfied smile. "You had me worried there for a while, Jade. I'm not used to dealing with fast ladies."
"I know, farmboy. It showed."
"Oh, and Jade!"
"Mm."
"I like the hair."
***************************************
The Lucky Despot Hotel and Casino
Luke's beard itched. With a little help from the force his new one had grown in just under a week and he was finally able to ditch the false one. This brought its own problems because not even the force could make Luke Skywalker grow a beard to match his dyed hair, so the beard had to be darkened also and whatever Mara had used wasn't reacting well with his skin.
"It's just your baby face, farmboy," she'd mocked cheerfully.
It hadn't gone down well. It was just one unhelpful comment too many and had added to the tensions still simmering between them. Also the fake scars he'd been so proud of when Mara had felt creative, now had to be fitted in under part of the beard. Luke was sure they were different every single day and hoped nobody inspected his facial lacerations too closely. So with fake scars and a face rash he wasn't a happy boy. He supposed it added to the general air of surliness he was trying to cultivate, but he just felt out of sorts and Mara delighted in needling him unnecessarily. Things had become exceedingly strained.
Mara had gotten a job as part of a cabaret group of six dancers and had been training daily and dancing nightly for over a week. It was a drag on their time but he hoped it would get them where they wanted to be. In Luke's unbiased opinion Mara was far superior to the other dancers. She drew the eye when she moved and he had told her so. "I had the best training, Skywalker. In everything," she'd growled.
Luke leant against one of the ornate pillars. The Lucky Despot hotel tried to cultivate a more up-market air. It only partially succeeded. It was still full of gambling smugglers and unsavoury citizens. But this was Mos Eisley after all. What did you expect? Assessing the room, he swept it with his Jedi senses but never took his eyes off the slender figure on the stage.
"She yours?" the gruff voice spoke in his ear.
"Yeah, I own her. What is it to you?"
"Nuthin', just wondered. She's very ... flexible."
"She's that all right." Luke risked a glance away from Mara and glared at a heavily disguised Han Solo carrying two glasses of Lomin-ale. "'Scuse me, that's my drink," he gave the speaker a suspicious look and wandered after Han.
They headed towards a deserted corner table. Luke swept it for listening devices, but there were none.
"Anything?"
Luke shook his head. "Not yet, but someone approached Mara during her last break. So.... could be. She'll refer them to me if anything happens. She's due another break shortly."
Han looked furtively around. "Jabba's files make interesting reading. They were frozen before Jabba took his last outing on his desert skiff."
"Before!" Luke echoed. "So we weren't the only people interested in finishing him off."
"Not by a long shot. I would say that every single man in his employ thought about it regularly. All that talk of honour among thieves in most cases tends to be that. Talk. Honour is not something I would ever associate with any Hutt or his cronies."
"I suppose he wouldn't have frozen his own accounts.... I guess not. He was hoping to finish us off."
A blue tipped nail ran teasingly around the collar of Luke's brown coat. "Are you going to introduce me?"
For an answer Luke pulled her head down and kissed her long and brutally hard on the lips. "Sorry."
Arica pouted and sat at the chair her 'minder' drew out next to him.
Han gaped for a split second. Mara looked fabulous. Luke looked good too - very rakish - but the behaviour the two were exhibiting was so unlike themselves he could only marvel at their acting ability. The game the two of them had cooked up was obviously working well, but he had slight misgivings about the amount of physical contact and the sexual chemistry that sizzled between them. You could almost touch it. He comforted himself with the thought that it was all an act - or was it?
"We may be on the move, flyboy." Mara spoke in a low voice. "I was approached with other members of the troupe with regards to a very lucrative engagement at a private residence outside Mos Eisley."
"Good." He turned to Han. "Rhan here is telling me some interesting business opportunities. Please continue."
The waitress deposited a drink for Mara on the table. Han lowered his voice and bent his head. "Other accounts were also frozen. Those that we definitely know died - their accounts haven't moved since. There are others we know did survive and their accounts have fluctuated over the years, but not in a spectacular fashion. Max Rebo, Hermi Oodle and Ephant Mon, for example."
"Well we know what happened to them," Luke murmured. "Max joined the rebellion. Hermi died several years ago, but well after Jabba met his end. Ephant Mon returned to Vinsoth to finance a religious sect."
"How does he do that?" asked Mara.
Luke grinned. "Gun running," he answered succinctly.
Mara let out a low husky laugh and leant over and nuzzled Luke's ear.
Han sighed. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but I wish you two would cut that out."
Luke gave Mara a sideways glance. "Someone may be watching us and we don't want to appear suspicious. What kind of things did you get up to with a beautiful girl on shore leave before you hooked up with us." It wasn't a question. "We're supposed to be lovers. It would look odd if I never touched her."
Under the table Luke ran his hand over Mara's shapely thigh. He hadn't quite forgiven her for her earlier comments and he knew that it was a dangerous game they were playing between themselves. There was far too much unresolved emotion between them and the sexual tension was rising. This little charade hadn't got Mara and Luke out of each other's systems. In fact it was achieving quite the opposite effect. At the back of their minds was the time they'd spent in Luke's bed in the hut on the edge of the Dune Sea. They were losing sight of what was real in their game and what wasn't. The urge to touch the other was becoming overwhelming.
"We had a good public fight yesterday. He grabbed me and I slapped him." Mara unconsciously leaned in towards the Jedi Master.
Luke glowered. "Yeah, you enjoyed that didn't you? She packs quite a wallop."
Han grinned. "I bet you did.... Arica."
Luke drew Mara close into his side and whispered something in her ear and she let out a vapid trill of laughter. His hand traced a sensuous pattern on her inner thigh and she felt her body react immediately.
"I'll kill him," she hissed in Solo's direction jerking her head to indicate Luke.
"Go ahead, don't mind me. But his sister funnily enough is fond of him and then I might have to retaliate on her behalf." He really didn't want to know where Luke had just put his hand.
Luke was getting fed up with this. He turned and muttered that there would be two fights two days running. Mara gave him a malicious look, eyes gleaming in the half-light.
Luke sighed. "Oh, no!" He was in trouble; he knew it.
"Ephant Mon is not our guy. He was pretty loyal to Jabba, more than some. But there was something odd...."
Luke leaned forward and as he did so Mara moved her hand onto his thigh.
"The accounts which made the most progress...."
Mara's hand shifted higher.
"Belonged to...."
And higher still. Luke had completely lost what Han was saying. He looked as if he followed, but all he could feel was Mara's hand rubbing ever so gently. "Come on Luke. You're a Jedi Master. Keep Han's voice in focus.... come on."
Mara leaned forward. To any casual observer it looked as if she was trying to catch more of the conversation. But it brought her closer to Luke. Her hand began to stroke his upper thigh, her fingers locating the muscles which bunched under her ministrations. Luke's hand moved to trap hers under his and for an instant their fingers entwined, but Mara was still mad at him and her fingers wriggled from his grasp.
"Bib Fortuna." Han's voice seemed to come from a great distance as, suddenly, Mara's hand gained its objective and closed round Luke's crotch.
He went white, then red under his tan and his disguise. It was difficult to tell, but his pupils dilated in shock. Han stopped. He hadn't thought the mention of Bib Fortuna's name was that earth-shattering. He'd assumed he was dead.
Mara gazed calmly at Han, her expression one of interest. "That is odd. I thought he was dead too. He certainly left on the skiff with Jabba and the rest of the party." Her hand tightened and stroked.
Luke gave a faint groan and hoped Han didn't notice.
"According to Ghent, financial holdings in the name of Fortuna are certainly not dead and have been accessed recently." The Corellian ran an oil stained finger around the tip of his lomin-ale glass.
"Could Olan be accessing Fortuna's wealth?" Mara wondered.
"It's possible."
Mara got to her feet and kissed Luke, revelling in the fact that his kiss was hard and a little desperate. "Gotta go. I'm in the next set."
Han noticed his brother-in-laws strained expression. "You okay, Luke.... er...Gorez?"
"I think so. I'll be fine. I just got a bit of a surprise." He felt Mara's chuckle as she sent it through to him. "You don't say."
Luke grimaced and paid the proper attention to Han as his body cooled down. "I don't like her doing this."
"It's not as if she isn't used to risk, Luke."
"Yeah." His mouth took on a downward slant. "I guess. Run that bit about Fortuna past me again. You're telling me his financial holdings are extremely buoyant for someone who hasn't been seen since Jabba died. I'd assumed he died on the skiff. Mara says he was there. Unless...."
Han stopped, his head tilting to one side. "It does appear strange." He narrowed his eyes and squinted across the casino. "I've just spotted an old acquaintance. I'll just run this bit of information past him." Han pushed the nugget of information to the part of his brain where he allowed Luke access. "One of Cracken's guys with Corran and Tycho."
"Could Olan be working for Fortuna or with him?" wondered Luke. "And that's only if Fortuna is alive. Up until now I would say that he wasn't. Bib Fortuna could never stay hidden for ten years."
"I'll see what I can find out."
Luke stood up and shook hands with Han as if they were sealing some sort of business deal. Then Han slouched across to the bar where the New Republic operatives fell into casual conversation with him. Luke had to marvel at that. Han was in his element. This was much more his style than Jedi training on Yavin with Leia, even if he didn't complain and went with her willingly.
"Is this seat taken?"
Luke gave the speaker a distrustful glare. "Why?"
"I believe I have a business proposition for you."
Very slowly Luke uncoiled himself from his chair and drew himself up to his full height. "I ain't smuggling spice for no one along the Esselian and Darpa routes. Not for anyone. It's too dangerous. Nearly got caught by some stupid New Republic patrol and...."
The speaker placed a hand on Luke's shoulders and pressed him back into his seat. "I'm not interested in that part of your enterprise. Citizen....?"
"What's it to you?" Luke grudgingly let himself be pushed gently back into his seat.
"I'm merely interested in finding out the identity of whom I do business with."
"Who says I'll do business or even give you my real name?" Luke tried to keep his voice gruff and his manner as surly and uncooperative as he could. The man standing across from Luke was wrapped in a cloak, which obscured most of his features. Humanoid in appearance for all that. Luke probed the being gently. He felt suspicion certainly, but no more than usual in a place like the Lucky Despot.
"My name is Geqwrass Hjarn. I work for a very rich Lord in his home on the edge of the Dune Sea. I've been asked to procure entertainment for an event he is holding."
"How nice. Goodbye." He turned back to his drink. Next thing he knew he was standing with his coat lapels firmly in the hands of the humanoid.
"I have a blaster trained on you right now," hissed Geqwrass. "I've come to offer you a deal."
"And if I don't accept?"
"I kill you."
"Ohh!" Luke stepped back and dusted the front of his coat. "You might be interested to know. I have a blaster trained on you too - but on another part of your anatomy. But I'm reasonable. Talk - I'll listen and if it suits me I may even oblige."
The humanoid looked down and with a shock noticed the rather effective looking blaster which had suddenly appeared in Luke's hand.
Geqwrass seated himself in the chair Han had just vacated with a sarcastic nod.
"I would like to buy your female."
"No."
"How about I tell you I am buying your female?"
"The answer is still no. She's profitable for me and provides useful services when she is so inclined." Luke attempted a leer which appeared to convince the humanoid. "You can hire her to dance only."
"It might work."
"And if you hire her, you get me too."
"You dance too?"
Luke gave Geqwrass a pitying look. How anyone could be so dense? "I don't, as you well know." He pointed at Mara. "She does, but she belongs to me and I look after what is mine. No deal." Luke turned in his chair and faced away from the figure still enveloped in his thick cloak, despite the heat in the casino.
"We could maybe use you."
"If I want to be used, perhaps you could." Luke hunched down and refused to face Geqwrass. "But that's my call. I work when I like and for whom I like. That's why my female is profitable."
"I'll get back to you."
"Better hurry. I don't like the whiphid much, but she does pay good. She might want Arica for another week or even a month. She's very pleased with what she's seen so far."
Geqwrass pursed his lips. Luke could see he was making decisions.
"Alright. I'll have a contract by tomorrow and I might have work for you to do too."
"I'll wait to hear from you."
*************************
From the other side of the room Han, Tycho and Corran watched discreetly.
"I think we've got something," murmured Corran quietly. "Luke just sent me the mental thumbs up message. He'll meet us at the Falcon's docking bay shortly.
"Come on then," said Tycho. "Let's go. Which one is it?"
"620" murmured Corran quietly and then stared searchingly at Han. "What is it?"
Han's face tightened at the Jedi's question, pushed his chair back and straightened his knees. "Not sure…" He stood up, then thought for a second. "You guys go. I'll wait for a few more minutes. Just in case the Imperials do make contact tonight, I'll hang on a bit." He clicked on the comlink he held in his palm. "Two on their way out. Prepare to meet Jawa one."
"All right, Master Skywalker," Corran sent to the Jedi.
"On my way, Corran," Luke sent back.
Luke rose from his seat and left the casino. Mara's shift had finished and he would be there to collect her. Han met Luke's oblique glance with an equally obscure one of his own.
The man who approached Han's table and pulled a seat out was obviously one of the Imperial military personnel stationed on Tatooine. Reaching into his coat pocket he drew out a packet of thin cheroots. He never spoke to Han or Han to him and kept his eye on the jizz-wailing band on the stage. After about half an hour he left, leaving the cheroot packet on the table. With studied unconcern Han picked up the packet and peered inside. A thin strip belonging to a data-wafer was fixed to the inner lining. Han smiled. "Time to get out of here."
Luke heard the almost inaudible click on his comlink. "Good," he thought with satisfaction. The Imperial faction had just made contact. Time to go. He glanced towards the stage. Mara moved in a series of spins across the stage, before lining up with the rest of the dancers for a final bow of the evening.
"Mara," he sent to her through their Force link. "We're in business. Imperial intelligence has just left something and Han has picked it up."
"Excellent. I've had enough of this place," she retorted. "The pay is lousy. I'll meet you 'round the back."
"Okay Jade. Tradesman's entrance."
