“He’s got a point,” Leia said to Han. “And I don’t feel like he’s lying.”
Han understood what she was saying-that she could sense through the Force that Fel was telling the truth. But he remained suspicious. “It’s still a long way from that message to Telkur Station.”
“Not as long as you think, Captain Solo,” Fel said. “You two have known the Queen Mother since she was a child. Who else was Corellia going to send?”
“Which gets you halfway here,” Leia pointed out. “But nothing you’ve said explains how you went from Hapes to Telkur Station.”
“That was the simplest part of all.” Fel glanced across the cantina. “I followed him.”
Han followed Fel’s gaze to the bartender who was pretending to wipe down the counter-but watching them.
“Of course,” Leia said quietly. “Hapan Security.”
Fel nodded. “His team departed the Fountain Palace a few hours after your attack on the Queen Mother.”
“That right?” It irked Han to let Fel believe he and Leia had actually tried to kill Tenel Ka-clearly, the kid had already come to the conclusion that none of the Solos had any honor-but Han could hardly set the record straight with Nashtah sitting beside him. “And you just happened to slap your homing beacon on their ship?”
“Not really.” Fel rose to his feet again. “I picked his team because I heard a hangar tech say it was going to the vilest den of corruption and degeneracy in Consortium space. Naturally, I knew you would show up sooner or later.”
“You might want to be careful how you put that next time.” Han was getting tired of Fel’s bitter-exile act, but he had to admit the kid’s logic was pretty good. Telkur Station was exactly the kind of place where an outlaw ship hanging around this part of the Consortium would eventually put in for supplies. “But thanks for warning us about the drinks.”
“You’re welcome-though I suspect you were expecting trouble.” Fel’s gaze slid over to Nashtah, who was now sitting up and blinking. “Now, you’ll have to excuse me. This fight really won’t be any of my concern.”
Fel started toward the exit, leaving Han and his companions to locate the security team. It was hardly difficult. They were the ones trying too hard to mind their own business, appearing more interested in their drinks or conversation than in what was happening around them. Han quickly counted a standard surveillance team of six agents, including the bartender. They were scattered around the cantina near the exits, with a clear line of sight to the Solos, and well positioned to cut off any escape attempt.
It took longer to locate the team leader. Han was expecting a woman to be in charge and initially paid no attention to the scrawny fellow seated alone at the end of the bar. But the second time he looked, the man was studying their half-filled glasses and muttering into his drink.
“We just ran out of time.” As Han spoke, he was swinging his legs out from beneath the table and dropping his hand toward his blaster holster. If he wanted to convince Nashtah that he and Leia were for real without a lot of bloodshed, he had to act now. “1 think they’re mad because we don’t like the drinks.”
The leader looked away and muttered into his drink more urgently. Han flipped the power setting on his blaster to stun, then drew and fired twice without standing.
The first bolt only grazed the leader’s abdomen, melting a dark line across the front of his tunic and causing him to hunch over in pain. The second caught him full in the flank, knocking him to the floor in a convulsing mass.
In the instant of stunned silence that followed, Han thought his plan might succeed, that he and Leia and Nashtah might actually disappear into the station’s tangled corridors before the surveillance team recovered from its shock.
Then he stood. His knees went weak and his head began to spin, and he had to brace himself on the table.
“Han?” Pulling her Hghtsaber from beneath her robe as she moved, Leia rose and started to reach for him-then had to put a hand down to catch herself. “Whoa. Strong stuff.”
“Yeah,” Han said. The security team was already recovering from its shock and drawing weapons. “Really hits you.”
“Renatyl-a bounty hunter favorite,” explained Nashtah. Suddenly she seemed alert and ready to fight-clearly a result of the Force trance she had entered. “You don’t notice it until you try to stand-then you fall flat on your face.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Han griped, starting to feel even more queasy and dizzy.
Half the security team-two tall burly men and a stony-eyed woman with high cheeks and thin brows-were already bringing blaster pistols to bear and shouting orders to surrender. Leia’s lightsaber came to life with a sharp snap-hiss, but Nashtah showed no sign of rising to go with the Solos.