[Han Solo] - 03(77)
“The minute I knew it was pirates boarding us, I knew it had to be Drea’s gang,” Lando told her, as several pirates shuttled them over to the flagship while Renthal finished her boarding operation on the Queen. “I’ve seen her pull that trick with the asteroid’s gravity shadow before. Only Drea would have had the firepower to tackle something as big as the Queen.”
Bria looked at the gambler. “Lando, I’m very grateful to you …. You stood up for me, and you didn’t have to. That took real guts.”
Lando smiled charmingly. “What else could I do? You’re far too lovely to let Boba Fett have you.”
Bria laughed. “It wasn’t Boba Fett I was worried about, actually. It was .
. . the people who wanted me. They’re a nasty bunch. Compared to them, Boba Fett is a gentleman and a scholar.”
She sobered, then jerked a thumb back at the Queen of Empire’s approximate location. “What will happen to the passengers? Is Renthal …” she hesitated, “… a slaver?”
Lando shook his head. “Drea? No. She’s in it for the quick credits.
Slavery is too much work for her. She’ll take the valuables, loot the ship, and maybe take a few prisoners for ransom. Once the ransom is paid, she returns them, unharmed. Drea is a business-person. She’s ruthless when the situation warrants, don’t get me wrong, but she’s not a slaver.”
She eyed him, and Lando reached over and took her hand. “Trust me, Lady Bria. I wouldn’t lie to you.”
Bria nodded, then visibly relaxed. “I do trust you, Lando,” she said.
“How could I not after you stood up to Boba Fett for me? I couldn’t believe you did that.”
Lando shook his head, smiling wryly. “Sometimes I surprise even myself.”
“And Drea Renthal will take us to Nar Shaddaa?”
“Oh, yes,” Lando said. “Your booking’s at the Chance Castle, right?”
She hesitated, gave him a sidelong look, then said, “Well …
actually, that’s not what I’m worried about. I’m taking a shuttle from Nar Shaddaa to Nal Hutta. I need to keep a very important appointment.”
Lando raised his eyebrows. “What in the galaxy is a lovely lady like you doing going to visit a bunch of smelly gangsters like the Hutts?”
She smiled wryly. “Well …”
Lando waited, and when she didn’t say any more, prompted, “Bria ˇ . .
you really can trust me. I want to be your friend.”
She took a deep breath. “I have an appointment to talk to Jiliac the Hutt.
It took me a while to get him to agree to see me, but finally he did.
I have a … business proposition to offer him.”
Lando frowned. “Then you’ll have to take a shuttle to Nal Hutta.
Jiliac became a mommy Hutt last year, and she hasn’t been on Nar Shaddaa since, I think.”
Bria nodded. “I’ll go wherever it takes, talk to whoever I have to.”
She glanced up at Lando. “I understand that Han lives on Nar Shaddaa?”
She couldn’t conceal the note of hope in her voice.
Lando shook his head, his gaze sympathetic. “You’re too late, I’m afraid.
Han lit out for the Corporate Sector nearly a year ago, and hasn’t been seen since. I don’t know if he’ll be back or not.”
Bria bit her lip. “Oh.” After a second, she looked back up, nodded.
“Well, that’s the way things go. I’m not sure he’d want to see me anyway.”
Lando smiled again. “I can’t imagine any man not wanting to see you.
He was a fool to let you get away, if you ask me.”
Bria chuckled wryly. “Han wouldn’t agree with you, I’m sure.”
Just then, their shuttle landed in the Vigilance’s docking bay.
Gathering up her skirts, Bria rose from her seat. Lando gravely offered her his arm to escort her down the gangplank.
“By the way,” he said, “how in the galaxy did you manage to get such a bounty placed on your pretty head?”
She shook her head. “Lando, it’s a very, very long story.”
He nodded. “Doubtless … but, since it will take Drea a couple of hours to finish with the Queen, we’ve got nothing but time …. ” “Well, I’m not free to tell you much …. “she hesitated.
He smiled. “Why am I not surprised? Tell you what … I’ll find a bottle, and you can tell me the unclassified parts. Deal?”
She laughed. “Deal.”
Interlude 2: Somewhere between the Corporate Sector and the Tion Hegemony Han Solo awoke slowly, easing gritty eyes open against daylight’s painful onslaught. His head pounded like a misfiring thruster, and his mouth tasted like bantha fodder. He groaned and rolled over on his stomach, shielding his eyes from the hideous glare of the sunlight.