[Han Solo] - 03(2)

There were the mining facilities, of course, and gas refining, storage and shipping facilities, but more than half of all incoming traffic was probably bound for the luxurious resort hotels. In the past few years, bored tourists had made the city in the clouds one of their favorite vacation playgrounds.

“Traffic control,” Jadonna continued, “we have a priority shipment for the Yarith Bespin kitchens. Nerf tenderloins in stasis. Request a landing vector.”

“Permission granted, Wayward Girl,” came the voice of the traffic controller. The controller’s voice took on a more informal note.

“Nerf steaks, eh? I’ll have to take my wife out this week. She’s been wanting something fancy, and that’s a treat we don’t get too often.”

“These are prime cuts, traffic control,” Veloz said. “Hope the chef at the Yarith Bespin appreciates them.”

“Oh, he’s good,” the voice said, then the controller reverted to his official tones. “Wayward Girl, I have you slotted in at Level 65, Docking Bay 7A. Repeat. Level 65, 7A. Do you copy?”

“We copy, Cloud City Controller.”

“And your assigned landing vector is …” the voice hesitated, then gave them more coordinates.

Han punched them into the navicomputer, then they settled back to enjoy the ride. He found himself looking forward to seeing the fabled Cloud City.

Bespin itself had already been famous, even before the resort was built.

They mined tibanna gas here, which was used in starship engines, and in powering blasters.

Han wasn’t sure how they actually mined the gas, but he knew that tibanna gas was very valuable, so the miners must be doing well.

Before it was discovered in Bespin’s atmosphere, tibanna gas had usually been found in stellar chromospheres and nebular clusters—which made harvesting it hazardous, to say the least. Then somebody had stumbled across the fact that Bespin’s atmosphere was loaded with it.

Picking up a sudden burst of electrical activity on his sensors, Han hastily changed course. “Hey—what’s that?” He pointed at the view screen. To their right now, was a monstrous, half-seen shape, drifting amid those incredible aurulent clouds. The thing was so large that it would have dwarfed many small Corellian cities.

Jadonna leaned forward. “That’s a beldon!” she exclaimed. “They’re really rare. In all the years I’ve been flying through these clouds, I’ve never seen one.”

Han squinted at the mammoth creature as the Girl streaked by it. The beldon resembled some of the gelatinous ocean creatures he’d seen on some worlds, with a huge, dome-like top, and many small feeding tentacles hanging down beneath it.

Han checked his landing vector. “Right on the credits, Captain,” he said.

Behind them, the leviathan faded into the distance. Han saw another, smaller shape ahead of them that almost resembled an upsidedown beldon, and realized it was Cloud City.

It hung in the clouds like some kind of exotic wineglass, topped with a jeweled crown of rounded towers, domed buildings, communication spires, and refinery stacks. In the last wash of sunset, it glowed like a corusca gem.

Staying on their approach vector, Han sent them skimming over the domed buildings of the cityscape in the clouds. Moments later, he brought the Girl down in a perfect landing on their assigned spot.

After receiving his pay, and saying farewell to Captain Veloz, Han went looking for a robo-hack to take him to the posh Yarith Bespin hotel, where the sabacc tournament was being held.

Moments later he was punching in his destination on a keypad, sending the little robo-hack zipping through the city streets, up and down levels, traveling at a pace that would have made most humans dizzy—especially when the little vehicle “hopped” lowlying buildings, giving Han a glimpse of the clouds surrounding them and the yawning depths below them. It was almost full night now, and the city sparkled like a lady’s open jewel box.

Minutes later the robo-hack pulled up before the Yarith Bespin. Han waved the luggage droid aside and walked through the massive entrance.

He’d been in posh hotels before, while touring with his magician friend, Xaverri, so the opulent interior with its spidery, crisscrossing glidewalks that spanned the stories-high atrium didn’t phase him. He saw a sign reading “Tournament Registration” in at least 20 languages, and followed the arrow up the glide-lift to the mezzanine.

When he stepped off the floating walkway, he headed purposefully toward the large tables. The place was thronged with gamblers of all species, sizes and descriptions. Han registered, checked his blaster (all weapons had to be checked), received an ID badge, and a voucher that he’d cash in as he needed betting chips. The first game would start tomorrow at midday.