“That could be a problem,” Karrde said, his voice studiously calm. “As far as I know, the Imperials have only two complete sets of records left-one at the Ubiqtorate base at Yaga Minor, the other at the current Imperial capital on Bastion.”
“I don’t suppose you’d happen to know where Bastion is,” Leia said.
“I’m afraid not,” Karrde said, glancing at her and then returning his attention to Lando. “Bastion’s proper name is one secret the Imperials have managed to keep.”
“I wasn’t necessarily talking about the Imperials,” Lando said. “I was thinking someone else might have the records we’re looking for.”
Han blinked at Lando. Suddenly the other’s insistence that he join them here tonight for their talk with Karrde was taking on a whole new dimension. “You mean that Karrde-?”
“I don’t have the records, Calrissian,” Karrde said. “If I did, I’d have offered them to you long before now.”
“I know that,” Lando said, his voice heavy with significance. “I was referring to a different source entirely.”
“Who also probably doesn’t have them,” Karrde said coldly.
Lando’s expression didn’t change. “But who might.”
For a pair of heartbeats the two men continued to gaze at each other. Han threw a frown at Leia, saw his same puzzlement mirrored in her own face. “Is there something here we need to know about?” he asked carefully.
“No,” Lando said. “Or maybe I should say not yet.”
“Leia, Calrissian and I need to have a short talk,” Karrde said, getting abruptly to his feet. “Is there a place where we can have some privacy?”
“You can use the boys’ bedroom,” Leia said, pointing down the hallway. “Last door on the left.”
“Thank you.” Karrde gestured Lando to the hallway. “After you, Calrissian.”
***
Shada had added an extra anchor to her safety line about two meters above her, on the assumption that if and when the Noghri got reinforcements up to the rooftop they might simply cut the line without bothering to haul her up first for the formality of questioning. Now, dangling a hundred meters above the ground, she eased her low-light eyepiece around the edge of the darkened window beside her and peered inside.
It was a child’s bedroom-a children’s bedroom, she corrected herself, spotting the second bed pushed against the far wall. Currently unoccupied; and since none of the three Solo children had followed their parents out of the airspeeder, it was reasonable to assume the room would stay that way.
Replacing the eyepiece into its jumpsuit pocket, she pulled out one of her three Zana M6W-9 molecular stilettos and extended its invisibly slender blade. Like a lightsaber, a molecular stiletto could cut through nearly anything. Unlike a lightsaber, though, the Zana’s blade was incredibly delicate. A quick thrust against an assailant nearly always resulted in a broken blade-along with a dead assailant, of course-and even the most painstakingly careful cutting job was as likely as not to end up ruining t he tool.
Fortunately, the task facing her wasn’t going to be large enough to push the odds. With most buildings on Coruscant she would have had to cut away an entire window to get inside, but the Orowood’s designers had incorporated traditional Alderaanian swing-out panels to allow for free air flow. All she had to do was maneuver the stiletto blade between the panels and slice through the catch, and she would be in.
After, of course, finding and disabling whatever alarms the Noghri had installed.
That task turned out to be easier than she’d expected. The window carried only a single alarm, ranged to watch for incoming airspeeders. Apparently, it hadn’t occurred to the Noghri that someone might be crazy enough to rappel down from the rooftop the way she had. Though of course, to be fair, they had put a guard up there.
Two minutes later she was inside the darkened room, pulling the window closed behind her and listening bard. There were the usual soft mechanical noises of any modern dwelling, along with the muffled sounds of conversation coming from elsewhere in the apartment. The words were impossible to decipher through the closed door, but she could hear at least four distinct voices.
She stood just inside the door, frowning with sudden indecision. She’d seen Solo and Organa Solo and their droid arrive in their T-81, and had spotted Calrissian waiting for them; but who was the fourth voice? Some random friend who’d happened to drop in? Hardly. A business associate of Calrissian’s? Maybe, except that he’d been skulking alone in the shadows before the Solos arrived.