Five other Bothans were in the room, seated at various data retrieval stations. All of them were looking at the door as Leia stepped inside behind Han with expressions and postures that could have been either surprise or guilt. “That one will do,” Leia said, pointing to an unoccupied retrieval station near the door. “Go ahead and get started, Threepio.”
Silently, Threepio shuffled off toward the station. “Thank you, Secretary Orou’cya,” Leia added to their escort. “We’ll call you if we need any further assistance.”
“I will be available for whatever you require,” Orou’cya said. Turning, he left the room, closing the door behind him.
Beside Leia, Han made a rude-sounding noise. “You’d think Fey’lya would have mentioned in his letter that we’re on their side here,” he muttered.
“I’m sure he did,” Leia agreed. “But these are Bothans. They see hidden blades everywhere.”
Han grimaced. “Especially coming from other Bothans.”
“It’s how their internal politics work,” Leia reminded him, squeezing his arm. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”
***
The order had specified a large crowd, and Navett had assured Major Tierce that his team could deliver. But now, looking at the edges of the crowd that he could see from his rooftop vantage point-a crowd that had already overflowed all available standing space in the Merchant’s Square-even he was impressed. This time Klif had definitely outdone himself.
“Navett?” Pensin’s voice came from the tiny speaker in Navett’s left ear. “Looks like they’re ready to move.”
“Right,” Navett said, moving the attached microphone a little closer to his lips. It was a military-style comlink, scavenged from a stormtrooper helmet, and would probably be trouble if he was caught with it. But the hands-free design was more private and convenient than standard civilian cylinder types, with a better realtime encryption. Anyway, he wasn’t planning to get caught. “You’d better get in position. What’s the makeup like?”
“It’s a real mix this time,” Pensin said. “Got a bunch of spacers of all types from the port area, but there are a lot of shoppers and merchants, too. Everything from human to Ishori and Rodian. Got a bunch of Froffli, too-I can see those stupid hair spurs poking up above the rest of the crowd.”
“Good.” Aside from the general hotheadedness of the species itself, the Froffli government was one of the few that had already come out publicly for sanctions against the Bothans. A species grounded on vindictiveness; and the fact that the Bothans had spent the past fifteen years systematically grinding the Froffli light-machinery industry to dust certainly hadn’t helped matters. “Make sure you’re out of their way when they start their charge.”
“Don’t worry,” Pensin said dryly. “Oops-okay, there they go. Next stop, the Combined Clans Building. You all set?”
“All set,” Navett said, stroking the stock of the Nightstinger sniper’s blaster rifle lying on the roof beside him. “Let’s do it”
***
“Shh,” Han said, frowning with concentration. “You hear that?”
Leia looked up from the retrieval station. “I didn’t hear anything.”
“It sounded like thunder,” Han said, straining his ears. “Or a crowd or-there it is again.”
“It’s a crowd,” Leia said, that Jedi look on her face. “And they’re getting louder.”
Han looked at the other Bothans in the room. None of them seemed to have noticed the noise. “Must be pretty good-sized if we can hear them all the stay in here.”
The Jedi look was getting more intense. “I don’t like this, Han,” she said. “There’s something not right here.”
“Maybe it’s one of those demonstrations that have been cropping up lately,” Han said, moving toward the door. “Stay here-I’ll go check it out”
The Bothans in the archive room might not have figured out what was happening, but the rest of the building was already on it. The corridor outside was alive with hurrying Bothans, some carrying boxes of datacards or other equipment, others just hurrying. Crossing past an overview that looked down on the atrium, he saw what seemed to be the entire first-floor staff hustling up the big ceremonial stairway, most of them carrying boxes and equipment, too.
A handful of Bothans were bucking the trend, heading down the stairs. All of that group were carrying blasters.
The atrium, Han decided, didn’t look like a particularly good place to be at the moment. Fortunately, he wasn’t going to have to go down there. Both the second and third floors had observation balconies facing the front of the building where he’d be able to assess the situation. Threading his way through the hurrying Bothans, he’ headed that direction. A bit of trial and error to find which office the balcony was connected to, and he pushed open the sliding privacy-glass door and looked outside.