Growling at Luke, Chewbacca took control of the ship and whirled around to face the security forces head on. While not as heavily armed as the Millennium Falcon, the small freighter had a decent arsenal of laser weaponry that the Wookiee began activating in preparation for a quick offensive against the rapidly approaching ship.
"No!" Luke cried, putting a hand on Chewie's arm. "Shooting our way out isn't going to get us anywhere!"
"What exactly would you propose as an alternative?" Lando asked tightly, squeezing his armrests. "Let them throw us in some Imperial prison?"
Luke thought a moment. "Is there any way to find out who the ship really belongs to?"
Without waiting for any of the sentient beings to respond to Luke's inquiry, Artoo extended a plug and latched himself into an empty computer port. A moment later, he bleeped at Threepio.
"How rude!" the protocol droid exclaimed. "I am not going to take an infinite number of cycles to tell them. In fact, I was going to immediately pass along your message had you not taken the initiative to insult me…"
"What did he say?" Luke interrupted, before Chewbacca got sick of Threepio's rambling and finally ripped the droid's head off.
"He said that this ship is registered to one Lieutenant Governor Okshir from the planet Egen VIII."
"Never heard of it," Luke murmured as a second security ship joined their pursuer. "Is he human?"
"Forgive me, Master Luke," Threepio stammered. "My files on Egen VIII are somewhat limited. It is an Imperial aligned planet in the Outer Rim ruled by a hereditary oligarchy that swore loyalty to Emperor Palpatine following the first…."
"Human," Luke repeated sternly, cutting the droid off midsentence. "I asked if they were human."
"Why, yes, Master Luke."
"Thank you, Threepio." Luke took a cleansing breath before turning to his other companions. "Okay, here's the plan…."
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"I am afraid I don't have any identification, officer." Luke tried to mimic the aura of confident entitlement that Leia was so often able to exude when they got themselves into a pinch. "As I said, I was kidnapped, as were my companions here. My captors weren't courteous enough to allow me to gather my personal effects before removing me so violently from my home."
"Right, right, sir." The Kuati security patroller rolled his eyes, clearly torn between his desire to get rid of the obnoxious noble from some unknown Outer Rim planet and his niggling suspicion that the man was lying through his teeth. "It's just that we need to verify a few things."
"Of course," Luke replied calmly, using the Force to encourage the man to trust him. "But I also want to get on the tail of those ruffians as soon as possible. They invaded my home once, and my poor wife and children may be in some danger should they try to return to…" He paused for a second, blanking on the name of the planet "…my compound."
"Again, sir, I just need to verify a few things. First, how did these other passengers come to be on your ship?"
"The man was brought on a few days after I was taken. As far as I understand, their intent was ransom."
"And the Wookiee?"
"They held him as a slave. I'm not sure if he belonged to them outright or was stolen property as well." Though he was merely playing a part, it galled Luke to refer to Chewbacca as property, and his discomfort with the situation was only heightened when the officer nodded knowingly.
Looking down at a screen, the officer sat silently for a moment, then turned back to address Luke. "I'm afraid our regulations require us to impound your ship for the time being. As a courtesy, you and your…companions will be given room and board while we complete our investigation."
"I'm not rooming with a Wookiee!"
"Private rooms, Mr. Okshir," the man clarified.
"Lieutenant Governor Okshir, please."
"Of course. Lieutenant Governor. Follow me, please?"
"May I at least retrieve my few belongings from the ship?" Luke asked haughtily. The man nodded, sighing, and gestured Luke out of the room. He let out a silent breath, glad his charade had worked and hoping that his luck would hold. Being stuck on an orbital station in Imperial space with no ship wasn't his idea of a sound strategy.
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"Big boss heard that we're a high class joint now," Buff commented as Han began setting out glasses in preparation for the day's bar service. "Said he might come by tonight."
"Who is the big boss?" Leia asked, tying an apron around her waist. "It would be nice to know who's paying us?"
"Name's Malbar Wa-Janar," Buff told her.
"Never heard of him," Han said. He turned to check the liquor supply, catching a surreptitious glance at Leia in the mirror on the bar back as she bent over a table to retrieve a stray napkin that had fallen on the floor.
"Should we have?" Leia saw Han's smirk and blushed, realizing he'd been ogling her behind Buff's back.
"Just be polite and you'll be fine." Buff counted out the last of the change in the register and slammed it shut. "So long as he likes you, you'll be set for life."
"What is he, Black Sun or something?" Han asked, chuckling at Buff's melodramatic tone. He didn't notice Leia blanch and turn back quickly to sorting silverware.
"Just do your work," Buff responded, winking at Han as he headed towards the 'fresher. "You'll be fine."
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The late lunch/early dinner crowd was heavy enough that Buff came in to help Leia take orders and bring food from the droid staffed kitchen into the main dining area. A few of the families who came into dine, attracted by the reports of a clean and friendly atmosphere, were disheartened to see the gnarled, heavyset humanoid approach to take their drink orders instead of the pleasant looking young woman, but generally the evening continued smoothly as more and more beings crowded around the bar looking for companionship, dinner, or intoxicants.
Leia greeted two human women at the door, nodding politely as they prattled on about their adventures in the underground earlier that day. She pegged them for low level Imperial staff immediately, based both on their relatively clean and fashionable attire and their affected Coruscanti accents.
"Just came down for work," one of them explained. "I'd never been here before, of course, but we had to pick up a package and the gentleman….well, he was an alien…"
"But he was very kind," the other interrupted.
"He sent us here. Said it would give us a good taste of the atmosphere down here."
"I've never been one much for slumming it…."
"But it is fun now again…"
"Oh!" The first woman, a medium height blonde with an enormous shoulder bag, looked disdainfully at the table to which Leia had escorted them.
"Is there a problem?" the princess asked innocently.
The woman raised an eyebrow at the couple seated at the next table over, a pair of Twi'leks sipping one of Han's concoctions and tangling their lekku together. "I'd prefer to be seated in a…human-only area?"
Leia smiled thinly, gritting her teeth as she took them to an isolated table in a dark corner. "Will this be better?"
"Oh, yes, thank you, miss."
Leia handed them menus and turned to walk back to the entry when the second woman touched her arm. "Excuse me. May I ask you something?"
Looking over quickly at Han, who was buried three deep in bar patrons, Leia let her arm drift casually to her side. The blaster she had found was tucked tightly into her pants. "How can I help you?"
"Well," said the woman shyly, "Can you tell me a little about who fixed this place up? We heard quite a bit about a sudden turnaround…"
"My, uh, husband and I did ," Leia told her, taking a calming breath and reassuring herself that these two Imperial staff weren't going to drag her and Han to prison. "May I ask why you were interested?"
Glancing at her companion, who was staring moodily at the drinks list, the woman continued, "As it happens I'm in charge of finding some new cleaning and service staff for my organization. It's a good position."
"Oh," Leia answered with a polite smile. "I don't know. We're quite settled here."
"Think about it. We'll be here for a bit."
"All right," Leia said to placate her. She had no intention of finding out what Imperial agency cafeteria this woman was recruiting for. "I'll be back in a moment for your order."
She kept a careful eye on the two women in the corner as more patrons flowed in. A fair number of the more recent guests seemed to be women around the age her parents would be had they not been blown to atoms four years previous. The bulk of them brushed her off as she tried to seat them in the main dining area, preferring instead to push their way up to the front of the crowd attempting to attract the attention of the handsome new bartender. Smiling wickedly, Leia laughed as she saw one old crone reach out to chuck Han under the chin as he mixed poured her a double whiskey. She would have fun teasing him after last call tonight.
Hearing the kitchen bell ring, she scurried over to take some plates to a table with a large family of Bith squeezed in cheek-by-jowl. She didn't notice the commotion at the door until an unfamiliar man, dressed in impeccably pressed black trousers and a silk shirt, approached her and removed a menu from her hand.
"You," he said sternly. "Malbar Wa-Janar does not like to be kept waiting."
Leia scowled at him, then turned to look at the door. Among a group of hangers-on dressed identically to the man who had accosted her stood a tall human with slicked back brown hair and a pointed goatee that shone with pomade even in the dim lighting. That must be Malbar, she thought, then looked at him more carefully. He seemed vaguely familiar…..
"Go!" The man who had taken the menu gave her a shove towards the entry way. As she tripped towards them, she mused that the young lackey was lucky that Han hadn't noticed his treatment of her. The Corellian captain was very skilled at using broken beer bottles as a deadly weapon.
"Master Wa-Janar." Leia kept her eyes down, praying that Buff had seen the "Big Boss" come in and would help her out. She assumed he had a special table somewhere, but had no idea where it might be.
Wa-Janar looked at her disdainfully. "So you're the new girl? From how Buff described you I was expecting someone prettier." Leia kept her mouth shut, wondering what the hell Buff had told this guy. This close, she felt like she was drowning in the smell of his cologne, and wondered how long she could go without coughing.
"May I show you to your table?" she said finally, her voice creaking with the effort not to choke audibly. Hopefully she could bluff long enough so that one of the lackeys would lead the way.
"Wait a minute." Wa-Janar reached out, using two fingers to lift her chin and force her to look him in the eye. "You look familiar. Where do I know you from?"
Leia shook her head. Admittedly, she thought he looked familiar too, but there was no way in hell she was going to say that out loud.
He looked her up and down, then dropped his hand. Chewing his lip, he added slowly, "I would swear I had seen you somewhere recently…." She shuddered slightly as he spent a few long seconds staring at her body. "Do you…dance?"
Kriff. That's where she knew him from. She whirled around and led them through the crowded restaurant, hoping that she could take her leave before his memory was jogged and he recalled that the last place he had seen her was when he paid a courtesy call to Jabba the Hutt.
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"I need you to handle Wa-Janar's table," Leia told Buff firmly as she found him in the dining room. The big man shook his head.
"Nope. He wants you. Said so personally." He drew out the syllables of the last word, as though he were savoring the task of handing off the boss to another victim.
"I can't…" Leia protested as she looked up to see yet another slickly dressed groupie approaching her through the crowd. "Please."
Buff gave her an unusually frank look of sympathy. "Nothin' I can do. He'll be done soon enough."
Suppressing a look of revulsion, Leia smiled wanly at the approaching aide and held up the bottle of wine that she clutched in her hand. "I'll be there in one moment," she told him.
"Cancel that order," the man responded brusquely. "Master Wa-Janar wants to open the bottle of 200 year reserve instead. And…" he smiled toothily. "He invites you to join us for a drink."
Blanching, Leia nodded, grateful for the opportunity to duck behind the bar.
"Hey, sweetheart." Han grinned when he saw her, holding up a hand to the three boisterous young men who were pounding the bar demanding shots of a particularly cheap potable that was popular with plebes on Carida. "Long time no see."
"We have a problem," she whispered in his ear, confirming that the three patrons were indeed far too inebriated to both overhear and interpret her words. "The big boss is here and he wants me join them for a drink."
"You can handle him," Han told her with a squeeze on the shoulder. "I've seen you take down way scarier guys than that bozo."
"You don't understand," she said, the timbre of her voice rising in desperation. "He was there when….he saw me….I think he expects…" She cut off her stammering abruptly, not knowing what to tell him.
Han bent down, pretending to examine the supply of bottles below the bar, and pulled her next to him. "What are you talking about?"
"He was there. At Jabba's. When we were being held."
"So?"
"He thinks….he…" Leia took a deep breath. "He thinks I'm some kind of….harem girl or something. I think he expects me to perform for him." She spat out the words in disgust.
Han stared at her, confused. "Why in the nine hells of Corellia would he think that?" Then it struck him. Memories of the dancing girls kept like pets chained to Jabba's side. The bruises and raw sores on Leia's neck that she refused to discuss. "He made you…" He stopped, leaning his forehead against the cool metal of the sink basin as Leia looked away, not wanting to face him. It was enough that she had risked her life and her freedom to come for him. To be subjected to Jabba's tender mercies while he wallowed in self-pity, thinking he had it bad to be confined with Chewie in a bleak dungeon. He couldn't even get the words out.
"I have a way out for us," Leia said firmly, ever the unflappable planner. "The woman in the corner has a job…we can get out of here tonight." Han just nodded mutely, taking a swig of whiskey before standing up and returning his attention to the guys at the bar who were increasingly agitated about their empty glasses. "But right now he wants a..." she tried to remember precisely what was said, "200 year reserve?"
"That ain't cheap," Han muttered. He'd noticed the aged whiskies, including the storied Corellian Whyren's Reserve that was kept in a locked, temperature controlled plastisteel cabinet under the bar. He'd never seen a key though. "Gonna have to ask Buff how to get it out."
"And then what?"
"I'll take it in to him," Han told her. "You get us set up with that job."
"Han…" Leia whispered in a warning tone as she headed out to find Buff. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Hey," he responded with a shrug, the fire in his eyes belying the mirth in his voice. "It's me."