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[Han Solo] - 03(67)

By:A C Crispin


Boba Fett had access to a great many sources of data from many places in the galaxy. Since he hunted bounties from time to time for the Empire, he had access to some of the mid-security level Imperial databases. He also had access to many newswires, and the Guild databases.

Fett had ordered his systems to flag certain “priority” names and physical profiles. When a “Bria Lavval” showed up one morning on his database summaries as a passenger aboard the Queen when the liner had departed Corellia that morning, a quick check of the woman’s ID and physical description had shown Fett that there was a better than 70% chance that this was actually Bria Tharen—Commander in the Corellian resistance.

Only a visual inspection would assure Fett that she was the right woman, so here he was … standing in line to board the huge liner.

The Queen was fully two kilometers long, and equipped to carry five thousand passengers. She contained most amenities any sentient could wish … indoor pools and spas, casinos, null-gee gliding areas, exercise rooms, as well as upscale shops where a wealthy being could spend a great many credits indeed.

Fett moved forward yet again, nudging his case along with him. It contained, in camouflaged compartments, his Mandalorian armor and several select weapons. The sides of the case were reinforced with durinium, an alloy that would resist sensor scans. And, in the outermost layer of the case, there were microminiature projection devices that would generate false readings about the contents to any scanning device, Fett finally reached the head of the line, and produced his IDs, ticket and credit vouchers. The ship’s official who checked his reservation offered to call for a luggage droid, but Fett politely refused, his harsh voice reverberating through the vocalizer mask.

Amongst themselves, Anomids did not converse in oral speech, but by an elaborate and very beautiful form of sign language. They were known to be sociable beings, and Boba Fett was hoping there would be no real Anomids on board. If there were, he would have to plead illness and stay in his cabin, for he did not know the Anomid sign language.

But none of the individuals on the passenger roster had listed Yablari as their world of origin.

When he reached the safety of his cabin, Fett stowed his trunk, first making sure to activate its anti-theft protections. Anyone unfortunate enough to attempt to remove the trunk from Fett’s cabin, or to try and open it, would lose digits—at minimum.

The Queen’s scheduled itinerary called for her to stop at a number of ports of call. Their path would take them through some of the most dangerous areas of Imperial space—including a stop in Hutt space at Nar Hekka … hardly a garden spot of the galaxy, but Nar Hekka was head and shoulders above either Nal Hutta or Nar Shaddaa. Fett suspected that Bria Tharen had chosen this liner because it was one of the largest, and thus probably the safest. There had been a lot of pirate activity lately.

Over the next three days, Fett wandered the ship in his Anomid disguise, staying mostly to himself. He made a visual ID of Bria Tharen on the first day, and followed her to find out where her stateroom was. He discovered that she had a suite, and shared it with three men. Two of the men were older, and Fett figured that they, too, were officers in the Corellian resistance. The third man was in his mid-thirties, and, from the way he carried himself, was a seasoned combat veteran who was serving as security and bodyguard for the Corellian officers.

The two officers and the bodyguard, like Bria Tharen, dressed in civilian clothes. The Tharen woman was seldom alone outside of her stateroom.

Often, she was surrounded by male admirers, although Fett noticed that she never took anyone back to her cabin with her, merely smiled and flirted casually. She played sabacc, careful neither to lose or win much, and she browsed the shops, but never bought anything of significance.

Fett kept her under observation, and laid his plans carefully ….

Lando Calrissian enjoyed traveling aboard cruise ships, and had done a lot of it lately, since losing the Millennium Falcon to Han Solo. Now that Han and Vuffi Raa had trained him to be a better-than-average pilot, he could have taken any of the ships on his used spaceship lot for his own, but Lando wasn’t that interested in any of them. He was waiting for just the right ship to come along.

His ideal ship would be more luxurious than the utilitarian Falcon-but every bit as speedy and capable of defending herself. Lando was on the lookout for a nice yacht he could get for a good price. So far, no bargains had surfaced.

And, besides, private ships didn’t have casinos. Lando liked casinos.

He’d been spending a lot of time in them for the past year, working to recoup his liquid credit resources. The young gambler had been wiped out by the sabacc tournament, but since then, he’d managed to turn Han Solo’s loan of fifteen hundred credits into many thousands. Lando had been able to repay Han the money he’d “borrowed” several months before his friend had taken off for the Corporate Sector.