Previously Published in IMPERIUM 6, 1997

At What Price

The huge ceremonial hall was silent and empty. Vague, muffled sounds broke through the still air from the caverns beyond the thick stone walls. For a moment, as the massive metallic door slid open, the sounds grew to an ear splitting din; fighter and speeder engines throbbed and whined, men screamed orders above the clamour, and below the noise from the busy hangers, soft footsteps scraped on the flagstones which paved the floor of the hall. The sounds from the active Rebel base were chased back as the door closed.

Han Solo stood with his back against the doors, pleased to have a moment of peace to himself. He looked around the hall, his eyes flitting briefly over the great blocks of granite from which the walls were constructed, and the vines that gripped at those walls, covering them with pleasant green foliage that broke the monotony of the grey stone. He glanced forward at the raised dais, at the tall, slender openings in the rock which served as windows to light and air the hall as well as giving a panoramic view of the jungle beyond. In his mind Han saw row after row of Rebels; pilots, ground troops, technicians, engineers, all with eyes front, and upon the dais stood General Dodonna, Commander Willard and the Princess Leia Organa.

He descended the steps into the hall and walked across the paved floor, remembering back to the ceremony when he had crossed this atrium with his companions. He had been embarrassed then and, he had to admit, proud. He reached the opposite stairs and sat upon the second step. His head fell into his hands, his elbows rested on his thighs, and his mind turned from the ceremony to more troubling images from his recent past, his spirits now unsure and confused about his immediate future.

Everything had been so easy before his return to Mos Eisley, before he was persuaded by necessity to accept an offer of seventeen thousand to pilot an old man and a farm boy to Alderaan, before he impulsively turned back to Yavin to save the boy and found himself a reluctant hero. Now, suddenly, everything was so complicated. He had been asked to stay with the Rebellion by the general and the princess, had been asked to fly to Xalan to carry through an arms deal that had been set up through a recently acquired Rebel contact in the city of Antee. He had turned them down, had even said no to the money they offered. He wanted to leave, to gun the Falcon's engines and shoot back to the stars with Chewbacca. He wanted to pay off his debt to Jabba the Hutt with his reward for rescuing the Princess. He wanted his freedom.

But why did he feel so damned guilty? Why had he sought out the silence and solace of this empty chamber? Why did he feel he was deserting his new found friends in an hour of need? The Rebels were evacuating Yavin IV, and every hand was required to clear the base before the Empire returned, and Han was intent on leaving within a couple of hours. The Han Solo of two days ago would not have cared less - he would have packed up his money and fled as soon as possible. However, he remembered the kid's words before the battle, the disappointed and accusing ones about being best at taking care of himself. He remembered the relief he had felt when he returned to the battle to find Luke still alive and he remembered the embrace from the princess and the delight he had seen shining in her eyes after the victory.

A bird twittered from among the creeping Ivy behind him and he shrugged, fighting to shed his misgivings. What did it all matter anyway? He was leaving and, in a few days time, he would have another spice run and the Rebels would be forgotten. His guilt at leaving them would be dismissed among the other worries and cares he would encounter as he travelled through the spice routes.

He grunted as he pulled himself to his feet. He had best say goodbye to Luke before he left, although he could already hear the kid's heated arguments.

It took him some time to find Luke in the sprawling Massassi fortress the rebels had taken for their base. After being misdirected by several pilots and fighter techs, he finally found himself outside in the landing field scanning the trees at the edge of the clearing. He smiled as he spotted the youth sitting on a large branch several metres up a tall tree. He jogged quickly across the field, shielding his eyes from the glaring sun as he stared up at his friend. Luke Skywalker was sitting securely in the nook created by the trunk and the branch; one leg dangled freely, his features obscured by the shadows from the tree's thick summer foliage.

"Comfy, are we?" Solo questioned once he stood beneath the over hanging branch.

Luke glanced down and smiled at the Corellian. "Trees," he said, gesturing with a hand at the expanse of jungle behind them. "I've always wanted to climb one." He explained with, Han thought, a strange thick tone to his voice. "There weren't many trees on Tatooine."

Han chuckled, imagining the childish excitement Luke must have felt as he set out to conquer this solid, living giant and his pride as he achieved his goal. "Do you think you can get back down?"

Skywalker shrugged and leaned forward to look down at the ground and at Solo. "I may need some help," he confessed ruefully.

Laughing, Han started up the tree. Within minutes he was pulling himself up onto the branch next to Luke. He sat for a moment puffing from the effort of the short climb, then he glanced at Luke and the wise crack he had balanced on his lips tumbled as he finally realized the youth had been weeping and was trying his best to stall any further tears.

Luke glanced away, staring out at the landing area and the stone fortress.

Han sat in silence. He was uncomfortable with tears and was unsure how to react to Luke's, so he kept quiet, hoping the young pilot would speak first. He listened to the birds singing, to the fighter engines revving up in the hanger bays, to Luke sniffing. Finally, unable to bear the silence, he looked back at Luke and, seeing fresh tears swell and spill, he cleared his throat. Looking for a reason for Luke's grief, he asked: "The old man?"

Luke nodded. "Partly." He sniffed again and wiped at his eyes with the sleeve of his khaki uniform. He glanced up at the clear blue, cloudless sky. It reminded him, at that moment, of a desert sky just before the harvest.

"Homesick?" Han questioned further as he followed Luke's gaze and as he realized he still had no idea how a young farmer from Tatooine had gotten mixed up in the mess of the last few days.

Again Luke nodded. "A little. But not for Tatooine, not for the farm..." He trailed off.

"Your folks." Solo stated with sure firmness.

"My aunt and uncle," Luke told him with a little hitch and shudder to his voice. "But... they're dead...now."

And Han began to fit Luke's story together in his mind. "The Empire?" It wasn't really a question.

Another little nod. "They were looking for the droids. Traced them to the farm. I wasn't there. I..." He stalled, drawing in a steadying breath. "I found them."

Han sat still, quiet again, allowing Luke to talk, allowing Luke to tell his whole story and he realized what was happening. It was only now, after the adventure was over, that Luke had found the time to reflect on the events of the past and to grieve for all he had lost. The youth had fulfilled a dream and had committed himself to the Alliance, but he had paid a terrible price - he had lost his family and his friends.

Try as he might to resist the feelings, Han found he was moved by Luke's story. Now it was his gaze which flickered to the sky and in his mind he saw the stars he craved, the freedom he sought. He wanted to leave these Rebels, wanted to return with Chewbacca to his own life, the life he loved, the loneliness he preferred. He glanced back at Luke as the boy completed his story, but Han's thoughts were of the conversation he and Luke had shared prior to the battle. He had asked Luke to join him and Chewbacca and it was only now he understood why. Luke reminded Han of himself in younger days and he wanted to protect the boy, teach him, to give him the guided start in life that he did not have. Besides, he liked the kid.

Han wrestled with these thoughts both accepting them and dismissing them. Yes, he liked Luke, hell he even liked the feisty Princess, but that shouldn't matter. He and Chewie were a team - they had debts to pay, places to go, and an uncomplicated life they both enjoyed. They had to leave.

"Listen," he began uneasily, feeling guilty, knowing now wasn't really the time to be telling Luke this. Luke turned towards him and Han saw the salt traces left by drying tears on his cheeks. "Ah," He hesitated, drew up his courage and plunged on. "Dodonna wants me an' Chewie to do a supply run, of sorts, to Xalan. Something about weapons. You ever hear of the Seven Crystal Towers of Antee? "

Luke shook his head, a smile beginning to tinge his lips as he guessed why Han was asking.

"A sight everyone should see," Han told him. "So, you want to come? Maybe we could get Miss High and Mighty to join us. What do ya' think? "

Luke's smiled brightened to a grin and the pain dimmed in his eyes. "I'd need to get permission from my flight commander."

"No problem," Han assured him. "I'll speak with Dodonna." He looked down at the grass below, and then smiled back at Luke. "But first we have to get you down."

He climbed down first and dropped the last metre. Turning he guided Luke down, all the while aware of the small voice at the back of his mind. It scolded him, kicked him, and called him an idiot.

Chewbacca raised his foaming mug of beer to his mouth and took a long draught. He smacked his lips in delight as the hot bitter liquid lifted the edge from his thirst, and he set his glass back onto the bar. He turned his back to the counter and surveyed the cantina full of lunch time customers. He let his eyes roam the crowd, studying the patrons, looking for familiar faces, searching for anyone who looked suspicious enough to be part of the meet, anyone who could push a blaster into Han's back. His gaze fell onto the table where the meet was to take place. It was situated in a secluded nook and had a 'reserved' sign sitting in the middle of its polished wooden top. The wall behind the table was covered with an ornate tapestry which depicted the Seven Crystal Towers of Antee glinting in the sun light to full dramatic effect. Its presence there worried the Wookiee, as he had no way of knowing whether it was genuine solid wall behind the cloth or a hiding place for an assailant. If it was the latter Han would be an open target no matter where he sat. It simply meant they both had to be extra vigilant when the proceedings got under way.

Chewie turned back to the bar and lifted his glass again, this time sipping at the cooling beer as he tried to make it last until it was time for the meet. Han should be arriving in the next few minutes to conduct his own pre-deal perusal of the cantina. He sipped at his drink once more, wondering what his partner was going to do with Luke and the princess during the deal. He and Chewbacca had their timing down to a fine art and if anyone else was to be involved they might throw them off. He hoped Solo would send them off on a sight seeing tour.

"You're in the wrong bar, pal."

Chewbacca glanced down and behind to find a young human male at his back and, surprisingly, he appeared to be unarmed. He smiled at the large Wookiee and climbed upon the vacant bar stool beside Chewbacca. This brought him to shoulder level with the puzzled beast. Chewie rumbled out a question.

The youth shrugged, still smiling. "I don't know what you're saying buddy - but Slick says to me that he wants you down at the Spacer's Gathering. The venue's been changed." Although he barely looked to be in his mid teens he leaned forward and gestured at the barkeep, at the same time shouting out his order. "Bring me a flask of this year's best - and I want it cold!"

Chewbacca was not taken in by the boy's confident act. He may have used Badure's nickname for Han, but that merely meant he knew of Han and that he knew of the meet. The Wookiee was a little concerned, but he had been assessed in similar ways before by the other parties involved in deals and this may be one of those times. He growled out a warning, his tone a threat in itself.

"Not convinced, huh?" The human received his order, poured a measure of the spirit into his glass and sipped it before delving into his pocket for money. He paid the bartender. "In that case," he continued at Chewbacca. "Solo says: ' shields are down, and the ship is steering true'."

Chewbacca stared inquisitively at the youth, cocked his head and murmured under his breath. The human had just used one of the 'all clear' signals he and Han used in just this type of situation. The boy may be a legitimate messenger from the Corellian, but then again he may not. Chewie glanced over at the reserved table just as a servo droid removed the reserved sign and watched as a crowd of tourists, who had just entered the bar, seated themselves.

The Wookiee hesitated a moment longer, then nodded his understanding. Ignoring the remainder of his beer, he murmured his thanks to the human and left the cantina, still a little perplexed. Why had the venue been changed so near to the arranged time? What had gone wrong? He stood in the doorway a moment looking across the street to the bustling covered market place, and then he gathered himself and hurried down the busy road, wondering if the dark clouds gathering in the distance meant it would rain later.

Inside the cantina the youth smiled as he finished his drink, relieved that his information on the pair had paid off and the code words and nickname he had been given were the correct ones. He set his glass down upon the bar and glanced up at the bar keep who handed him the sign from the table. As he made his way to the exit he jauntily replaced the sign. "Sorry gents, this table's just been reserved."

Ignoring the group's protests, he left the bar. The mid-day sun was still shining brightly when he stepped out of the door way and started up the street in the direction of the old space port. As he walked he maintained a keen eye on the people who passed him or who had stopped to admire goods in store windows. It would cost him dearly if he missed the three he was looking for.

"So, this is the Great City of Antee, huh?" Luke Skywalker's tired, sarcastic tones spoke of his disappointment. He stopped still in the centre of the busy street and gestured widely at his surroundings. He was standing in the middle of a slum, his boots deep in the slick mud track which passed as the road surface. Tall, stone tenement buildings rose around him, giving him the tight feeling of claustrophobia. Once these structures had been an architects delight - golden sandstone with ornate carvings on doors, lintels and windows. They had been the homes of the rich. However, over the years they had decayed and crumbled. The rich moved out and the poor moved in, bringing with them the dirt and disease associated with overcrowding and ancient sanitary facilities. Deep cesspools overflowed, spilling their contents onto the road, their waste mixing with the mud in which Luke stood. The rank stench of death mingled with the smoke that rose high, casting a stinking pall over the area. Luke had never felt so sick, and the mental image of the Crystal Towers Han had created for him shattered and crumbled.

"Hey, come on kid. This ain't it. "Solo gently patted Luke's shoulder, pushing him on, making him walk. It was not wise to stand still too long in this part of town. "This is the back door, the part the tourists ain't meant to see." Han explained to him as Leia, who was strolling beside them, listened in.

"So why are we here?" Luke questioned, pulling his boot from the mud, the squelch the movement caused making his skin crawl. "What's wrong with the front door?"

"Criminals." Han answered easily, cheerfully and truthfully. "They would have arrested you on sight if we'd landed at the tourist docking bays. They're a little more lax at the old bays, which is why we're not all banged up in a couple of cosy cells at this precise moment."

Next to him the Princess smiled and slowly shook her head. "I think, Captain," she said, joining the conversation. "That you have your definition of 'criminals' slightly wrong." Her smile widened as Han raised his eyebrows in his surprised 'me?' expression. She was enjoying Solo's relaxed mood; when he felt good his attitude had the annoying habit of being infectious. She glanced at Luke, hoping the pilot would relax too, but the deep frown on his face betrayed his shock and disgust at the poverty he had seen here. It was one thing to hear of these conditions, but it was quite another to witness it at first hand. Leia wanted to brighten his mood - after all that was the real reason Han had agreed to the trip and why she had joined them.

"You mean to say," she continued at Han, "that they would have arrested you and Chewbacca on sight. I've heard your activities in this sector were quite nefarious to say the least. "

"Nefarious?" Han chuckled loudly, liking her choice of words. He glanced at Luke and nudged him, causing him to stumble a little. He shot Han a foul look, but the Corellian didn't notice. "I'd never have come up with such a word this early in the day. Superior breeding must be something, huh kid?"

As the question was directed at him Luke nodded in mute agreement, a tiny smile of humour creasing his face, but it was tinged with puzzlement and soon fell away to a frown of total perplexity.

There was a short lull in conversation as the slum gradually began to recede and the small group entered better neighbourhoods. Finally Luke could stand it no more. Tentatively, and somewhat embarrassed, he tugged at Han's sleeve and whispered. "Han? What does 'nefarious' mean?"

In the ensuing laughter from Han and Leia, the three friends failed to notice the dark clouds which settled over the sun shrouding them, and their watcher, in shadow.

The rain was pounding hard into the concrete walk-ways and roads by the time Han, Leia and Luke reached the cantina in the city centre. Han paused in a rather deep puddle on the side walk, ignoring the crowds which ran for cover. He stared at the public house, studying the doorway. Hopefully Chewbacca was already in place and had secured himself in a good vantage place from which to observe the deal and his back. He turned back to his companions and grinned at Luke. The youth was standing with his head tilted back, letting the rain fall directly onto his face. It appeared Luke had never experienced a rain storm before. The kid was smiling broadly.

"I wouldn't do that for too long, Luke." Solo advised him. "You never know what kind of pollutants are in that rain."

"You mean it could be dangerous?" Luke asked sounding surprised and a little unsettled. Only he could choose a corrupted environment in which to enjoy his first rain fall.

"Nah," Han drawled in good humour. "Probably it'd only curl your hair."

Luke shot him a ' I don't think that's very funny ' look, and then turned to the cantina door. "Is this where the deal is?"

"Yeah," Han replied, shooting a quick glance to the princess. "Listen," he directed at her. "I'm used to doing this myself. Why don't you take the kid shopping?" He gestured to the market place across the road.

"Shopping!" Luke rasped incredulously. He had been looking forward to the proceedings and the possible danger of the deal. "Look, Han, I didn't come here just so you..."

"No offence, Luke," Han hurriedly continued. "You can hold your own when things get tough, you've shown us that. But these sorts of people are unpredictable, edgy. They like clients to turn up alone; it gives them a sense of power."

"Which is why..." Luke continued to protest.

"Chewie's there for back up if I need it. 'Sides it's the way we work; you'd only throw our timing off. "

"Thanks a lot. How am I supposed to learn stuff if you won't let me help?"

Leia placed her hand on Luke's arm, aware that time was short and Luke was delaying Han's entrance to the bar. "Captain Solo is right, Luke, "she told him softly, beginning to see reluctant resignation cross his face. "If they work best alone then that's how it should be. We can't risk losing this deal, especially when we'll soon have a new base to set up and fortify."

Luke nodded unhappily. "Okay then, but I..."

Leia pulled on his arm before he could continue and directed him towards the crowded covered market. "Come on you'll enjoy yourself." As she walked away beside him she shot a glance back at Han. "We'll meet you back here in...what? Two hours?"

Han nodded his agreement; that gave him plenty of time to complete the deal. He turned for the cantina door smiling at Luke's distant question of "Two hours of shopping!"

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the bar. He stepped down into the room, scanning the area for an empty table. The first he spotted was the one reserved for the deal; he would avoid that one for now. He wanted a table away from the site of the meet, but one with a clear view of it. He worked his way through the room, smiling as he saw a crowd of tourists rise and vacate a booth which, although not ideal, would serve his purpose. He quickly crossed to it and threw himself down in the seat before anyone could steal it from him. He sat back studying the occupants of the bar as a servodroid scuttled up to him to take his order. He frowned deeply as he realised his Wookiee co-pilot was no where to be seen.

"Gimme a Ka'abin beer," Han told the droid. He wanted something light and low in alcohol as the drink was merely to give him something to do until his contacts arrived. His gaze went back to the bar looking for Chewbacca, but the Wookiee was not there. Han sat back again, not overly concerned by Chewie's absence. It was not unusual for the Wookiee to leave the bar to relieve a call of nature. He waited patiently for his drink; there was plenty of time for Chewie to arrive back before the contacts showed up.

Luke's mood brightened considerably when he and the Princess were swallowed by the noisy, bustle of the market. He was amazed by the sights, sounds and smells of the place. It seemed as though every type of people in the Galaxy were represented here. There were humans and variation on humans, Yak Faces, Mon Calamari, Hammerheads, Gamorreans and some creatures he didn't recognise and even if he had known the species he was convinced he would be unable to pronounce their names. He and Leia pushed on through, deeper into the market. His ears were assaulted by screeching, bartering women, by stall keepers crying out the bargains to be found on their patch. His nose twitched at the smell of exotic cooking, strange alluring perfumes, sweat and the stench of rotting fish. He had never encountered anything remotely like it in his life and he could not help feeling a little swamped by it all. He moved closer to Leia trying to appear as relaxed as she was.

"I've never seen anything like this," he gasped as a very large, very dangerous looking reptilian creature pushed passed them, crushing Luke into one of the stalls.

Leia smiled enjoying Luke's delight at discovery and experience. "Then the markets on Tatooine are different?" She asked.

"Market?" Luke echoed remotely as he stared at the spread of wares on the stall into which he had been pushed. "I've never been to a market!" The gathering of farmers in Anchorhead once a month couldn't really be called a market. "This..." He turned to survey the crowd. "This is something else!"

Leia laughed happily, her own enthusiasm growing with Luke's excitement. "Come on," she grabbed his arm and pulled him along. "I'll treat you to an olfactory and taste delight. Marave Berry Tarts!"

Behind them their watcher ducked from sight behind the nearest stall, his eyes following Luke and the princess as they made their way to the bakery area of the market. He smiled and turned, looking out from the market to the street and saw that the rain had stopped and the sun was beginning to break out from the concealing clouds. Soon the towers would be visible again and the market crowds would disperse back into the open streets. Glancing up the road a little he spotted a four man patrol of stormtroopers and frowned; they were early.

Thinking quickly the youth crept closer to the two shoppers.

"Look at that!" Luke exclaimed, his mouth now full of berry tart. He was pointing to the neighbouring stall which sold exotic ornaments. "I've never seen anything like that before! It's lovely!"

Leia followed the direction of Luke's finger until she spotted a tiny figurine in traditional Xalan dress. Luke picked it up, turning it in his hand. "She's so...colourful!"

"Yes," Leia agreed. "She is pretty"

Luke glanced up looking for the stall keeper. "Excuse me, sir?" He held out the little dancer. "How much is this?"

The keeper looked briefly at the ornament. "Twenty." He told Luke shortly.

Luke fumbled in his money pouch, withdrew the correct amount and paid the man. He then slipped the little figurine into his jacket pocket.

"You should have bartered with him," Leia told him as they left the stall. "You could probably have got it cheaper and...Hey!" She felt a sharp tug at her clothes and turned around quickly to see a teenage boy make off with her wallet. "Hey!" She shouted after him again.

"I'll get it back," Luke told her and took off after the boy.

"Luke you'll get lost!" She called after him, then cursed to herself as he was swallowed by the crowd. She started forward, intent on following him.

"Excuse me, miss."

The voice was polite but it chilled Leia with its distinct hollow sound. She froze in shock and fright.

"I think you'd best turn around."

Leia did so, slowly, to find that the crowd had cleared an area for herself and the stormtroopers. "Can I help you?" She enquired fighting to keep her voice calm, telling herself they had only responded to her shout to the pick pocket.

Leia could almost see the lead trooper's sneered smile as he answered. "Yes, I think you probably can, Your Highness."

Pushing and shoving his way through the bristling shoppers Luke almost fell out of the market and into the street. Puffing with exertion he glanced around, but could see no sign of the youth who had stolen Leia's money. He cursed under his breath in anger and turned back to the market to find Leia being escorted out by Imperial soldiers.

"Princess…" he whispered to himself in horror, his hand immediately moving for his blaster. He stepped forward about to shout to her, to tell her to get down, so convinced was he that he could handle four troopers, when he felt a hand on his arm. He spun around in fright expecting to find himself facing yet another Imperial patrol - instead, he was faced by the teenage pick-pocket.

"Don't," the boy told him. "You'll only end up in custody yourself, or dead." He nodded, gesturing up the street to where two more soldiers had appeared. "Don't be stupid."

Luke hesitated. If he didn't attack the soldiers Leia would once more find herself in an Imperial detention block. If he did attack, he would be taken by the second patrol. Luke moved his hand away from his weapon and watch with impotent despair as Leia and her escorts disappeared around a far corner. He would have to get Han. He turned around looking for the cantina and realised this was not the street from which they had entered the market. He also became aware that the second patrol was heading in his direction.

The boy tugged frantically on his sleeve. "They saw you with her!" He hissed, pulling Luke along, trying to galvanize his steps. "Come on. I know a safe place."

"You two! Remain where you are!"

The order from the lead trooper was the catalyst Luke needed and he soon found himself sprinting after the teenager down ally ways and back streets with the pounding sound of pursuing Imperial footsteps ringing in his ears. As he drew his blaster and fired off a few shots the clouds finally parted and the Seven Crystal Towers of Antee glinted in the sunlight, casting wild rainbow colours over the city.

The hour of the meet drew closer and Han sat a little more upright in his chair and took a sip from his second drink of the afternoon. He had changed to soft liquids as he was eager to keep his wits about him. He let his eyes roam the room once more, now anxious at the continuing absence of his Wookiee co-­pilot. Chewbacca had never failed him before; he was always so careful when a deal was about to go down. Han was not particularly looking forward to pulling off the deal by himself. It wasn't that he didn't think himself able, only that it was impossible for him to watch every corner of the bar and engage in tricky negotiations at the same time.

He put down his glass and checked his chronometer, then glanced at the empty reserved table. No sign of his contacts yet and only a few minutes to go. It definitely looked like they were waiting for the correct moment to appear. He lifted his glass again, sipped at it and set it down. He checked the time again, looked around the bar, tapped his foot in time to the piped music and had another glance at the hour. It was time.

No one came through the door. The table remained empty. Han sighed heavily in suppressed anger, sarcastically surmising that his contacts had gotten lost in the same place as his partner. However, he knew they were probably doing the same as he; waiting for someone to turn up first - wanting to see him before they showed themselves. If that was the case they would all be sitting here all day. He sized up the patrons of the cantina, noting their species, their clothing, their languages and the weapons they wore. He could see no one taking an interest in the empty table and turned his attention to the door, watching as several scruffy human spacers entered. As they passed the reserved booth Han noted it had stopped raining outside.

He checked the time again and leaned back, trying not to let his anger show. He took another sip of his drink and winced at it's sweetness. It was beginning to look like these people were not going to show; so much for the Alliance's much-needed arms and supplies. The Princess was not going to be pleased.

Han sat where he was for a while longer watching the door way as the street beyond brightened, recovering from the rain shower. The piped music was abruptly cut as a live band struck up with a heavy beat. Han's feet tapped along in time although he did not recognize the tune they were playing. He finished his drink and, as he had time to spare before meeting with Luke and the Princess, he raised his hand to attract the attention of the servodroid for another order.

He hesitated as two uniformed men stepped into the bar, walked directly to the reserved table and seated themselves.

Han watched them as discreetly as he could. Was this just Imperial arrogance on display, or were these soldiers his contacts? On his guard now, Han continued to observe the Imperials as one of their number, a major, motioned to the bartender to serve them. Han believed he could see anger in the major's features as he conversed with the bar-keep while the other soldier, a lieutenant, scanned the customers in the bar.

"What the hell's goin' on here?" Han muttered to himself as he lifted the empty glass to his face in an attempt to hide his features. He sipped out the last dregs of the sweet liquid. When the bartender had returned to his duties and the Imperials began to whisper together Han threw several coins onto the table and left the bar quickly, his mind contemplating the implications of the Imperials' presence.

There were several alternatives to consider: it could have been a trap, but why were they being so obvious? Or the Imperials were the contacts - that meant they were either Rebel sympathizers or, more likely, just plain crooked. Or, the contacts didn't show and the Imps decided that a reserved sign did not extend to them. Well, what ever it was the deal sure didn't work out. Then he thought about Chewbacca's absence. Was it a trap? Had they gotten Chewie out of the way to snare him more easily? If that was the case they would know who the Alliance representatives were, which meant they knew where the Falcon was docked, that would mean they would have it staked out and they would have seen Luke and the Princess and.. .

He looked over at the covered market, leaving his thoughts unfinished, and stepped away from the bar's dripping door lintel. He didn't relish standing here waiting for Luke and Leia but this was where they had arranged to meet. He wanted to get back to the Falcon and check her out. He leaned against the cantina's wall, hoping his travelling companions wouldn't be late.

Once more Luke's boots squelched in the thickening mud of the slum district. Behind him the Crystal Towers shimmered hazily in the early evening sunlight. They had lost the soldiers a few blocks away and their pace had fallen to a slow walk; however they remained alert should the Imperials find them again. He looked to his companion, now taking the time to study him. He was a little shorter than Luke, but stockily built with a shock of black hair. His eyes were ice blue. He was dressed casually, but expensively and it only now struck Luke as being odd. Why would someone who could afford to dress in the best tailored clothes be picking pockets? And, how would such a person know their way through such a neighbourhood?

Luke suddenly realised the youth could be leading him anywhere and to anyone. "All right." He said as firmly as he could. "This is ridiculous! I don't even know who you are." He squinted at the boy in the sun light, his nostrils flaring in response to the noxious smells permeating the area.

The teenager glanced at him but kept walking. "Not now!" he whispered under his breath just loud enough for Luke to hear. "When we're safe."

Luke stopped dead in his tracks. "No, now!"

The boy slipped his hand into his pocket and turned to regard Luke, his lips were pursed with annoyance. He withdrew Leia's money pouch and threw it to Luke who caught it. "My name is Rogan D'anti, and I took the woman's money to try and get you both to follow me."

"Why?" Luke questioned, perplexed.

Rogan sighed with exasperation. "I saw the Imps take an interest in you, I was trying to help." He glanced around nervously and saw a particularly scruffy group eyeing up the pouch he had just given Luke. "Listen, will you put that thing away and come with me. We're starting to get noticed."

Luke put the wallet into his inner jacket pocket and then released the safety strap on his holster, hoping the movement would deter any would-be robbers. "Why help us?" He persisted, when Rogan started up the street. "You don't even know us."

Again the boy stopped, but instead of exasperation toning his expression Luke saw slyness and satisfaction cross his face. "Wanna bet?" He grinned. "It's not every day you get to see the Rebel Princess Organa and her Jedi Knight rescuer."

Luke's jaw dropped for a moment then clamped shut with surprise. Rogan turned and continued up the slum street. Luke glanced to the side and spotted the same scruffy bunch. He hurried after the youth now more curious than ever, and more than a little afraid.