“Data display and three-hundred-sixty-degree vision.” Fett shut down most of the feeds and the blink-operated controls so that Han saw only what he’d see with his own eyes. It would take him days to get used to the 360-degree field of view without crashing into things. And there was no point confusing him with the rest of the display that rolled and flashed constantly inside the visor. If he blinked at the wrong time he’d either blow himself up or wipe billions off the stock exchange. He only needed to be able to see. “Never worn a helmet?”
“Yeah, but I don’t recall stormtrooper helmets being quite this fancy inside.”
“That’s cheapskate defense procurement for you. Try walking.”
Han paced up and down the narrow galley in Slave I’s cargo section, turning his head left and right. Mirta watched him with cold indifference. But Fett had come to know her well enough to realize that the news of Ailyn’s capture had knocked her sideways. Maybe there was a really big bounty hanging on that necklace.
“Okay, I can do this,” said Han. “I can see well enough to blow his brains out. So explain this to me.”
“We just walk in and ask to see your cousin. Then we get him on his own. Then we kill him.”
“Then I kill him.”
“I agreed to kill him and I will.” Fett didn’t have time for this. “You can take a shot, too, if it makes you feel better.”
“And he’s just going to let you stroll in?”
“Yes. He asked for some Mandalorian assistance. I said we’d think about it. I’ve thought.”
“What assistance?”
“Defending Centerpoint.”
“But you took a contract to assassinate him,” Han said.
“Gejjen made me an offer and I accepted. I didn’t accept Sal-Solo’s. I’m a man of my word. A contract is a contract.”
“So we pose as your Mandalorian henchmen.”
“He’ll want to see us.”
“How do we find our way around? It’s a maze in those offices.”
“Already done the recce and recorded the data.” Fett projected the holoplans of the Presidential offices onto the cargo bay bulkhead. The penetrating radar had built up a detailed three-dimensional walk-through image. “Getting in is easy. Next two stages are getting him on his own, because I don’t like collateral damage, and getting out again.”
“Can’t Gejjen help you do that?”
“How’s he going to explain a dead President?”
Mirta looked up. “He’ll blame it on the Alliance, because that’s very handy for him.”
“She’s good,” said Han.
“Either way, we get out fast. I suggest we exit via this route to his bunker, which leads to this tunnel that comes out in the park.” Fett traced the illuminated transparent chart with the finger of his glove and considered how bad a firefight might get if they were trapped in that tunnel. Mirta only had a small bag with her: that meant not much kit-not enough kit. “You want a helmet, girl?”
“No.”
“You’d better be fast, then.”
Han stared at the chart, seeming more comfortable within the confines of the helmet. “Thrackan’s got a bunker?”
“Civil emergency center. He’s got direct access from his office.”
“You don’t trust him either.”
“He has no honor. But that’s irrelevant.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever understand you, Fett. You kill without blinking and yet you’re taking an awfully big risk to find a daughter who’s tried to vape you.”
“He’s all heart really,” said Mirta.
“I must be, because you’re still alive,” said Fett.
Han eased off the helmet and took a deep breath. “And I never had you down for a double act, either.”
“We’re not,” said Fett. But Mirta had her uses, and she never gave up. He liked that.
“He needs me for ballast,” Mirta said sourly.
Fett checked the charge on his blaster. The adrenaline rush of carrying out a job on the spur of the moment like this had made him forget his illness for a while, and it left him with a pleasant sense of omnipotence. The pain in his stomach and joints-a persistent tenderness that sometimes peaked into a sensation almost like toothache-was always there now but it could still be pushed into the background without his reaching for painkillers. He wondered how long he’d be able to do that.
Nobody ever survived the Sarlacc, but I did. If you want something badly enough, push yourself hard enough, you can do anything.
Even survive against all odds.
Even restore an empire.
Even heal a rift with your only child.