Orbit over the forest Moon of Endor - Aboard the Millennium Falcon
Leia watched as Chewbacca slid the Falcon into the moon's orbit with the casual ease he always did. Aside from the moon, the space around them was empty, "Doesn't look like Khabarakh's here yet;" she commented, know that it was a rather pointless and obvious comment.
They had both been watching the sensors since they had dropped out of lightspeed and there was no sign of any other ships in the system. Chewie gave a few rumbles and growls, most likely his current feelings about the whole situation. After a pause, he growled a question. "We wait I guess;" said Leia with a shrug. "After all, we are almost a day early - got here faster than I expected."
The Wookiee gave a snort as he stood to his feet and his own interpretation of the Noghri's absence. "Oh come on!" Leia chided him. "If he decided to make this meeting a trap, don't you think he'd have a couple of Star Destroyers and an Interdictor Cruiser waiting to meet us?"
"Your highness?" called See-Threepio's voice from down the corridor. "I'm sorry to disturb you but I think I may have located the fault in the Carbanti countermeasures package. Could you ask Chewbacca to step back for a moment?"
Leia looked at Chewbacca in mild surprise. It wasn't uncommon, unfortunately, for the Falcon to have innumerable maintenance problems and, as usual, some of the systems had gone out early in the flight. Recently at least, it was never any truly major systems that went out, not like that crazy flight from Hoth during the war. With a small smile, Leia said, "We'll make a repair droid out of him yet - your influence, now doubt."
Chewie snorted and rumbled his opinion of that as he headed back towards the droid.
As the door to the cockpit slid shut, Leia sat quietly and rubbed her swollen abdomen, cooing to the two tiny lives she could sense within her. "Do you see that planet below, my dears? That's Endor; where the Rebel Alliance finally triumphed over the Empire, and the New Republic began."
It was a massive simplification of course, and all the memories of the seemingly endless battles with the Empire cycled through her memory but, by and large, it was the truth. It was after Endor that the Empire's iron grip on the galaxy was irrevocably shaken. Now, however, it would seem that, one brilliant move at a time, Grand Admiral Thrawn and Darth Diabolis were reestablishing that hold over the galaxy and the so-called mopping up action had blossomed, once again, into a full-blown conflict.
As she contemplated the past, the present and the possible futures, Chewie roared a question from the back. Leia leaned forward to look at the board as she keyed one of the switches. "It reads 'standby/modulo," she called. "Wait a minute- now it reads 'system ready.' Do you wont me to-" suddenly, a black veil fell across her vision.
As she returned to full awareness, she heard a metallic voice frantically calling her. "Your highness! Your highness, can you hear me?"
Slowly opening her eyes, Leia saw the shining golden droid and the massive bulk of Chewbacca, who was rather uselessly clutching a medpack in his large paw. With a grown, she said, "I'm all right. What happened?"
Threepio, still anxious as ever, answered, "You shouted for help; at least, we thought it was for help. You were brief and rather incoherent."
"I don't doubt it;" she muttered as it all began to return to her, the overwhelming feelings of menace, rage, hatred and despair.
Looking at Chewie, she asked, "You didn't feel it, did you?"
He growled in a negative as he continued to watch her closely. "I felt nothing either;" put in Threepio.
Leia shook her head. "I don't know what it could have been. One minute I was sitting there and the next-"
As a single horrible thought dawned on her, she trailed off before asking, "Chewie, where does this orbit take us? Does it ever pass through the position where the Death Star blew up?"
Chewie stared at her for a moment, rumbling deep in his throat. Then, shifting the unused medpack to another hand, he reached past her to key the computer. The answer came almost immediately.
"Five minutes ago;" murmured Leia, "That would be just about right, wouldn't it?"
The Wookiee's affirmative and following question caused her to shake her head and admit, "I really don't know. It sounds a little like something Luke went through on- during his Jedi training," she corrected herself, remembering that Luke still wanted Dagobah's significance to be kept a secret. "But he saw a vision. All I felt was... I don't know." and she shook her head again. "It was anger and bitterness. But at the same time, there was almost something sad about it. No - sad isn't the right word."
She shook her head and dashed the sudden and inexplicable tears from her eyes. "Look, I'm all right. You two can go on back to what you were doing."
Chewbacca gave a quiet snort and a rumble under his breath, clearly not convinced. Even so, he closed up the medpack and pushed past Threepio. The cockpit door slid open for him and, with the proverbial Wookiee disdain for subtlety, he locked in in that position before disappearing down the corridor into the main section of the ship. Leia turned her eyes on Threepio. "You to. Go on - you still have work to do back there. I'm alright. Really."
The droid was every bit as hesitant as the Wookiee. "Well... very well, your Highness. If you are certain."
"I am;" said Leia, smiling reassuringly, "Go on, scat."
Threepio dithered another moment but then obeyed, leaving Leia to deliberate. Somehow, the space around seemed different somehow - darker than it did before. Setting her jaw, Leia said to the stillness, "I will not be intimidated, not here, not anywhere."
Of course, there was no reply. Leia reached over to the controls and casually keyed in a course alteration that would keep them from passing through that spot again. Even despite refusing to be intimidated, there was no point in deliberately seeking out trouble. That done, there was nothing left to do but wait and wonder if the Noghri would come.
New Cov - Ilic City
As the Lady Luck swept over the lush green forests towards the city, Han asked, "Any idea how we land on that thing?"
"Probably through those vents near the top;" replied Lando, pointing at the ship's main display. "They read large enough for anything up to about a W-class space barge to get in."
Han nodded, his fingers plucking and tapping anxiously against his armrests. There weren't a lot of things that could make him nervous but allowing someone else to maneuver a ship he was riding in through a tricky landing, especially a relatively small one, was one of those things. "This is an even crazier place to live than Nomad City;" he muttered.
"No arguments here;" muttered Lando. "At least on Nkllon, we don't have to worry about being eaten by some exotic plant. But that's economics for you. At last count, there were eight cities in this part of New Cov and two more being built."
Han grimaced. "They're still crazy. Watch out - they may have magnetic airlocks on those entrance ducks."
"Will you relax? I have flown ships before, you know."
It wasn't as bad as Han feared it would be. Lando got his clearance and eased his way into one of the entrance ducts. Soon, they found themselves in a brightly lit landing area. Inbound customs were a mere formality, though given the planet's dependence on exports, the outbound scrutiny would probably be a lot tighter. They were greeted with a smile, a hand shake and a datacard with maps of the city and such and then released to go about their business. "So where are we supposed to meet Luke?"
"An old tapcaf called the Mishra attached to a half-sized version of the old Grandis Mon theater on Coruscant. I got the impression it was kind of a watering hole for local big shots;" answered Han as he checked the datacard on his datapad.
"Sounds like a good place to meet;" said Lando, before throwing Han a sideways look. "So, you ready to show me the hook yet?"
"Hook?" asked Han with a frown.
Lando snorted in reply. "Come on you old pirate; you pick me up on Sluis Van, ask me for a lift out to New Cov, send Luke on ahead for Mara-style cloak-an-blade rendezvous - and you expect me to believe you're just going to wave goodbye and let me go back to Nkllon?"
Han gave one of his patented innocent looks. "Oh come on, Lando-"
"The hook, Han. Let me see the hook."
Han sighed theatrically. "There isn't any hook, Lando. You can leave for Nkllon any time you want to."
Lando still wasn't buying it and his suspicions were confirmed when Han said casually, "'Course, if you hung around a little and gave us a hand, you might be able to work a deal and unload any spare metals you had lying around. Like, oh, a stockpile of hfredium or something."
Lando's glare burned into the side of his face. After a long pause, Han said in a mildly soothing voice, "Oh come on, Lando; hand around a couple days, you listen to people's jabberings, you maybe dig us out a lead or two about what Fey'lya's got going here, and that's it. You go home and back to your mining operation, and we never bother you again."
"I've heard that before," Lando countered. Even so, Han knew that he'd won. "What make's you think Fey'lya's got contacts on New Cov?"
"Because during the war, this was the only place the Bothans ever seemed to care about defending-"
He broke off and grabbed Lando's arm. With a rough yank, Han pulled them both behind a central clumn. "What-" Lando tried to ask.
"Quite!" hissed Han, peaking around the column. After just a moment, he pointed to a figure one level below. "See that Bothan down there to the left? That's Tav Breil'lya, one of Fey'lya's top aides."
Lando took a peak, seeing the Bothan and asking, "How can you tell?"
"It's that neckpiece he wears - some kind of family crest or something. I've seen it dozens of times at council meetings."
Han chewed his lip, trying to think. If that really was Breyl'lya over there, finding out what he was up to could save them a lot of time. But Luke was probably sitting in the tapcafe and waiting for them. Thinking fast, he said, "I'm going to follow him. You head down to the Mishra, grab Luke, and catch up with me. If you're not with me in an hour, I'll try calling on the comlink."
They began going to the slideway to the Bothan's level. "Don't call me;" said Han. I might be someplace I wouldn't want a call beep going off."
"Goodluck;" called Lando quietly as he watched his old friend disappear into the crowd.
Han followed Breyl'lya through the crowded streets, easily keeping the cream colored fur of the Bothan in sight. After a good bit, Breyl'lya disappeared in a warehouse with a faded sign labeling it Amethyst Shipping and Storage. "I just hope that it's on the map;" Han murmured to himself.
"It is;" a woman's voice came softly from behind him.
Han froze and tentatively murmured, "Hello?"
"Hello;" she replied, "Turn around, please - slowly, of course."
"Look is this is a robbery-"
"Don't be silly," she cut him off.
The woman was short and slender with graying hair and a thin face. She was probably ten years older than Han and would probably have looked like a friendly sort if it weren't for the blaster in her hand. "Put the comlink on the ground. Your blaster too, as long as you're down there."
Silently, Han crouched down, drawing his weapon with exaggerated caution. Under cover of that motion, with most of her attention hopefully on the blaster, he switched on his comlink before setting it down. Straightening, he took a step back to prove that he knew proper procedures for taking prisoners. "Now what?" he asked.
As the woman stooped to retrieve the blaster and comlink, she said, "You seem interested in the little get-together yonder. Perhaps you'd like a guided tour."
"That would be great;" replied Han, his hands still up slightly as he silently hoped she didn't look at his comlink before stowing it in one of her pockets.
She didn't look at it. She merely switched it off and put it in her pocket. Han shrugged, determined to maintain at least some of his dignity. "I didn't have time to come up with any new ones."
"Apology accepted;" said the woman dryly, "Com on, let's go. And lower your hands - we don't want any passersby wondering now, do we?"
"Of course not;" said Han as he dropped his hands.
They were halfway to the Amethyst when, off in the distance, a siren began to wail.
Luke decided that the Mishra was an inverted replaying of his first visit to the Mos Eisley cantina on Tatooine so many years ago. What was it now - nine years back? Going on ten maybe? It seemed like longer either way.
The Mishra was much more sophisticated than it's desert world counterpart and catered to a much higher scale clientele. The similarity lay in the fact that the same wide assortment of beings crowded around tables and the bar and the band in the corner was playing quite similar music.
One stark and obvious difference, however, was that the patrons were giving Luke a respectful amount of room at the bar. So he sat there, sipping on the local variant of the hot chocolate he had grown to enjoy so much. It had, much to Luke's pleased surprised, a touch of mint to the flavor.
As he sipped, he took another glance at the entrance. Han and Lando had only been a couple of hours behind him which meant that they should be walking in at any minute. He hoped so anyway.
Luke honestly understood and agreed with Han's reasons for wanting to take two ships and arriving at Ilic separately, but with all the threats that seemed to be hanging over the New Republic, they couldn't really afford to waste time.
With a sigh, he took another sip when an inhuman bellow nearly forced him to spit it out. He spun around, automatically yanking his lightsaber from his belt, as the sound of a chair crashing over backwards added to a follow up to the bellow.
Five meters away from him stood a Barabel and a Rodia - face to face and with blasters drawn. An SE4 droid hustled towards them, waving its spindly arms and calling, "No blasters! No blasters!"
In a single smooth motion, the Barabel shifted aim and blew the droid to scrap before settling it back on the Rodian, all before the other could react.
"Hey!" yelled the bartender indignantly. "That's going to cost you-"
"Shut up;" snarled the Barabel in a raspy reptilian voice. "Rodian will pay you - after he pay me."
The Rodian drew himself up to his full height - still at least half a meter shorter than the Barabel - and spat something in his people's sing-song language, which Luke didn't understand.
"You lie," the Barabel spat. "You cheat. I know."
The Rodian screamed back and the Barabel replied, "You no like? You do anyway. I call on Jedi for judgement."
Luke blinked as all eyes turned to him. "What? Me?"
"Yes;" said the bartender, suddenly seeming relieved. "He wants you to settle their dispute."
Luke cleared his throat uncomfortably. "You're the Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, aren't you?" he asked, gesturing at the lightsaber in Luke's hand.
"Yes;" Luke admitted.
"Well then;" and the bartender motioned towards the conflict.
Luke had once seen Leia called out in public to settle something. At least she was an official High Councilor. Luke, even as a Jedi Knight, had no drop of legal authority. And yet, looking into the bartender's eyes, he knew that it was only an excuse. Everyone in the bar trusted him to make the correct decision. So, taking a deep breath and sternly ordering his heart to calm down, he made his way through the crowd to the Barabel and Rodian. "Alright, the first thing you're going to do, both of you, is put away your weapons."
"Who first?" growled the Barabel.
Luke ignited his weapon between them, "Put them away."
The Barabel complied and the Rodian, after only a moment longer of hesitation, followed suit. Luke deactivated his weapon but still held it ready. "Now tell me the problem"
The Barabel growled, "He hire me for tracking job;" and he jabbed a finger at the Rodian. "I do what he say, but he no pay me."
The Rodian began to protest but Luke lifted his gloved hand. "Just a minute - we'll get to you;" before turning back to the Barabel, "what sort of job was it?"
"He ask me to hunt animal nest for him;" replied the Barabel," animal bothering little ships - eating at sides. I do what he say. He burn animal, get money. But then he pay me in no-good money."
He gestured to a now scattered pile of gold-colored metal chips. Luke picked one up and frowned slightly. It was a small, triangular piece with an intricate pattern of lines in the center and inscribed in each corner was a small 100.
Looking around, Luke asked, "Has anyone ever seen this currency?"
A man dressed in an expensive business suit answered, "It's the new Imperial scrip. You can only use it on Imperial-held worlds and stations."
Luke grimaced. The little chip was yet another reminder that the war for the galaxy was still being fought and with no visible end in sight. It did, however, highlight the problem. Looking at the Rodian, Luke asked, "Did you tell him before hand that you'd be paying him this?"
The other replied in his sing-song language Luke looked around the room, hoping someone would be willing or able to interpret.
"He said that that was how he was paid;" a familiar voice answered.
Luke turned as Lando eased his way through the crowd and up beside him. "He says he argued about it, but that he didn't have any choice in the matter."
"That is how the Empire has been doing business lately;" came a voice from the crowd, "at least around here."
The Barabel spun towards the voice and hissed, "I no want your judgement. Only Jedi give judgement."
"Alright, calm down;" said Luke as he fingered the golden chit. If it really was the way the Rodian was paid, he didn't have much of a choice. "Is there any way to convert these into something else?"
The Rodian replied and Lando said, "He says no. You can use them for goods and services on Imperial worlds, but since no one in the New Republic will take them, there is no official rate of exchange."
Luke almost chuckled, getting his friend's meaning immediately. "Right. So what's the unofficial rate of exchange?"
"No idea, actually;" said Lando dryly. "Must be someone here who works both sides of the street though;" and he looked around. "Anyone here do business with the Empire?"
To no one's surprise, there was no response. "Shy, aren't they?" commented Luke.
"About admitting Imperial dealings to a Jedi Knight?" chuckled Lando. "I'd be shy too."
Suddenly, he straitened and sniffed. "There's no way;" he muttered.
"What?" asked Luke, his senses on high alert.
"I smell Carababba tabac and armuda, like from a cigarra."
Luke looked confused. His confusion increased when Lando called out, "Niles Ferrier, step forward."
There was a low murmur of surprise and a long pause before a bulky figure made his way forward. "What do you want, Calrissian?"
"You work both sides;" said Lando, "what's the current unofficial exchange rate between New Republic and Imperial currency?"
Ferrier sneered around his cigarra, "This is your Jedi friend's problem. Leave me out of it."
The crowd around sounded none to pleased and Luke simply gazed levelly at the man. After just a moment, Ferrier growled, "The last time I did business on the other side, we settled on a five/four conversion."
"Thank you;" said Luke. "That seems straightforward enough then"
Turning to the Rodian, Luke said, "Pay your associate with New Republic currency and a five/four exchange rate and take the Empire's scrip for the next time you work in their territory."
The Rodian prattled angrily and the Barabel grated, "That is lie!"
Lando translated the Rodian's objection. "He says he doesn't have enough New Republic currency. Knowing Rodians, I tend to agree with the Barabel."
"Perhaps;" Luke stared hard into the Rodian's faceted eyes. "Perhaps not. But there might be another way."
Luke turned his blue eyes on Ferrier and lifted and eyebrow questioningly. The big fringer growled and chomped his cigarra. "Don't even think it, Jedi."
"Why not?" asked Luke asked. "You work both sides of the border. You're more likely to be able to spend Imperial scrip than the Barabel could."
"Suppose I don't want to? Suppose I don't plan to go back any time soon. Or maybe I don't want to get caught with that much Imperial scrip on me. Fix it yourself, Jedi - I don't owe you any favors."
The Barabel snarled menacingly. "You talk respect. He is Jedi. You talk respect."
There was a rumble of agreement in the crowd around them and Lando casually murmured, "You better listened to them. I don't think you'd want to get in a fight here, especially not with a Barabel. They've always had a soft spot for Jedi."
"Yeah - right behind their snouts;" retorted Ferrier, but he didn't like the look of the crowd around him. Jedi opinion had only gone up in the passed six years, especially in the mid and outer regions. Not only that, it wouldn't do him any good to draw too much attention to himself.
Luke watched Ferrier and sensed his uncertainty grow. Finally, the big man growled, "Alright but it'l have to be a five/three exchange. The five/four was a fluke and there's no telling if I'll ever get that again."
The Barabel was not happy about that but Luke reassured him. "It's probably the best your going to get under the circumstances, and if it helps any, remember that you can pass a warning to the rest of your people about dealing with this particular Rodian. Not being able to hire expert Barabel hunters will hurt him far more in the long run than he might cost you now."
The Barabel responded with a grating noise in his throat that was probably his specie's equivalent of a laugh. "Jedi speak truth; punishment is good."
Luke braced himself and said, "You will, however, have to pay for the repair of the droid you shot. Whatever the Rodian said or did, he is not responsible for that."
The Barabel stared at Luke, his needle teeth making small, tight biting motions. Luke levelly returned the cold gaze, his senses alert for any intimidation or attack. Much to his relief, the Barabel reluctantly yet firmly said, "Jedi again speak truth. I accept judgement."
"Then the matter is closed;" said Luke, lifting his lightsaber hilt in a salute.
As the business was concluded, Lando murmured, "Nicely done, Buddy."
"Thanks;" Luke replied, trying to wet his dry mouth.
It had been more luck than skill. If Ferrier hadn't been there or had simply decided not to cooperate, Luke would have had no idea how to solve the dispute. All of Leia's lessons had come to him and this was the best he had come up with. Hell, even Han, with all of his fringer experience would probably have come up with a better solution. It was one aspect of Jedi responsibility he had not had a lot of experience with yet. Luke had been a General, a soldier and an operative but his mediation skills were clearly lacking.
"Han's following one of Fey'lya's Bothan pals up on Level four;" murmured Lando, drawing Luke out of his thoughts. "Spotted him from the west-central ramp and sent me to-"
He suddenly stopped short as sirens wailed outside the Mishra. "I wonder what that is;" he said.
"It's an alarm;" said one of the patrons of the tapcafe.
When the alarm pitch changed, the patron clarified, "It's a raid."
Luke frowned. "A raid? Who's raiding you?"
With a scoff, the man replied, "Who else? It's the Empire."
"Uh oh;" murmured Luke.
"Yeah;" agreed Lando, "Come on."
They exited the Mishra and headed back out onto the avenue. To their surprise, the locals didn't seemed panicked or even mildly worried. Indeed, they were just going about their business, giving only cursory glances towards the sounds.
"Maybe they don't realize what's going on;" said Luke, though he didn't sound too convinced of that.
Lando snorted. "Or else they've got a quiet agreement with the Empire. Maybe the leadership finds it politically handy to align themselves with the New Republic, but they also want to keep in the Empire's good graces. Since they can't pay anything as overt as tribute, they instead let the Imperials come in every so often and raid their stocks of refined biomolecules. I've seen that sort of thing done before."
Luke's face turned grim. "Only this time it might backfire on them?"
"Like if the Imperials sport the Lady Luck and Knight's Return on the landing records?" muttered Lando.
"I actually just took my old X-wing this time but it doesn't make a difference. Where did you say Han was again?"
Lando grimaced. "Last I saw, he was on Level Four heading west. He told me not to call him but I think this qualifies as an unforeseen circumstance."
Luke lifted a forestalling hand. "Wait a minute. If he's anywhere near this saide of Fey'lia's - and if Fey'lia's working some kind of deal with the Empire...?"
"You're right;" said Lando. "Blast it! So what do we do?"
They stepped onto the section spiraling upward on the spiral walkway. "I'll go find Han;" answered Luke. You get up to the landing area and see what's happening. If the Imperials haven'r actually landed yet, you might be able to get into the air control computer and erase us from the list. Artoo can help if you can get him out of my X-wing. and over to a terminal without being caught."
"I'll give it a try."
A stray memory flicked through Luke's mind. "I don't suppose the Lady Luck's equipped with one of those full-rig slave circuits you talked about back on Nkllon, is it?"
Lando shook his head. "It's rigged, but only with a simple homing setup. Nothing much more than a straight-line motion and a little maneuverability. It'd never be able to get to me through the middle of an enclosed city like this."
Luke nodded and shrugged rather ruefully. "Just a thought."
"Here's where Han got off. He headed that way;" said Lando, pointing the way.
"Right; see you soon. Be careful;" said Luke as he stepped off the ramp.
"You too."