The waiting man would have recognized the Millennium Falcon instantly, even if he hadn’t known she would be coming to this place. He had once owned her. He still loved her, and now he winced to see what had become of her.
Still urbane and handsome, and now distinguished looking with age, Lando Calrissian stood in complete contrast with the famous transport. He was dressed in a silken ensemble that would have cost what it took to buy a good speeder but whose components were all chosen for unobtrusive elegance; the dark blue tunic, black trousers, and purple hip cloak were subdued of color and fashion. The silver-tipped black cane he carried was his one outward concession to age.
He watched as the Falcon slowly approached. As frail as she looked, he half expected her to bounce off the atmospheric shields that kept the vacuum of space at bay, but she floated gently in through that negligible barrier. Now that the transport was within atmosphere, Lando could hear a rhythmic clanking from within her hull-something gone awry within her engine housings.
The Falcon slid gently forward on her repulsorlifts and settled down to a remarkably smooth landing. Lando walked around from beneath the mandibles to look through the cockpit viewport, but the occupants had already left, so he continued around to the boarding ramp.
He had a handful of jokes in mind for the arrival of Han and Leia-I’ve seen transports crashed into the sides o f World Devastators that looked better; what have you done to the old girl this time; did you buy your pilot’s license at the Drunken Mynock School o f Instruction-but then, as the pair descended the boarding ramp, he caught sight of their faces.
There was not one iota of good humor, cheer, even hope in their expressions, just grimness and, under the surface, pain. Han wore his customary pants, tunic, and vest, and had his left arm in a sling. Leia was in brown Jedi robes. Both sets of clothes looked wrinkled and slept-in.
Lando cleared his throat to gain a moment to think and clear away the good-natured, mocking vocal mannerism he had intended to employ. Then he said, “I’m glad to see you. I have caf and food in the lounge.”
While Han and Leia ate-slowly, barely tasting their food they told Lando what had happened. Jacen was the central figure in almost every element of the story.
Jacen supporting laws to concentrate and imprison Corellians on Coruscant. Jacen interrogating a prisoner until she died-the daughter of Boba Fett. Jacen believing that Han and Leia would conspire against Tenel Ka, and punitively firing on the Falcon … when his own parents, sister, and cousin were aboard. Cakhmaim and Meewalh, Leia’s Noghri bodyguards, killed in that attack-not just killed, but incinerated, instantly obliterated so that there was nothing left to bury.
As their account of the events ran down, Lando shook his head, almost unwilling to believe what he was hearing. “I’m sorry. I’ve been up on the holonews; I knew about his promotion to head of the Galactic Alliance Guard, but all this … I don’t know what to say.”
Finally Han looked up from his plate. “Can you help us fix the Falcon?”
Lando nodded. “Consider it done. This place is an old repair station I-we-picked up in a corporate merger. It’s not cost-efficient, so we’ve transferred most of the personnel to other locations and are going to be closing it down. I’ll keep this repair dock open long enough to make the Falcon shipshape. Better than new.” He winced again. “It’ll take some time, though.”
Han and Leia exchanged a look, and Leia said, “We’ll need a fast transport for the interim, too. Something that can get us through the Corellian exclusion zone if we need to. And something that doesn’t scream The Solos are back whenever it’s noticed.”
“I’ve got you covered.”
They were silent for several moments. Then Leia asked, “And how are you doing, Lando?”
“I don’t want to tell you.”
That got the attention of both Han and Leia. “Why?” Han asked.
“Because it’s all good.”
Leia managed a little smile. “I appreciate you not wanting to make us feel worse by gloating. We know that’s not what you’re going to do. We could use some good news. Really.”
“Oh. Well, then.” Lando heaved a sigh. “I’d have to say that all my wishes from when I was a young man have pretty much come true. I’m rich. I can travel wherever I want and do whatever I want. I’m married to a smart, beautiful woman who doesn’t worry about where I am every second of the year. I can visit a gambling den and lose a fortune and not catch any heat; Tendra knows that at some point I’ll win another fortune or a patent or a planet and make up the loss. Tendrando Arms isn’t as big as it was during and right after the Yuuzhan Vong war, but it’s doing very well selling to security forces in the private sector, and we’ve diversified. We’re very healthy.”