“I’m sure,” Torve said, heavily sardonic. “And the catch … ?”
“No catch,” Han told him. “All I want in return is for you to let us give you a lift back to your base, and then have fifteen minutes to talk with Karrde.”
Torve gazed at him, his mouth tight. “I’ll get in trouble if I do this. You know that.”
“We’re not exactly random strangers,” Lando reminded him. “Karrde met me once, and both Han and I kept major military secrets for the Alliance for years. We’ve got a good record of people being able to trust us.”
Torve looked at Lando. Looked again at Han. “I’ll get in trouble,” he repeated with a sigh. “But I guess I really do owe you. One condition, though: I do all the navigation on the way in, and set it up in a coded, erasable module. Whether you have to do the same thing on the way out will be up to Karrde.”
“Good enough,” Han agreed. Paranoia was a common enough ailment among smugglers. Anyway, he had no particular interest in knowing where Karrde had set up shop. “When can we leave?”
“As soon as you’re ready.” Torve nodded at the sabacc chips cupped in Han’s hand. “Unless you want to go back to the LoBue and play those,” he added.
Han had forgotten he was still holding the chips. “Forget it,” he growled, dropping the stack onto the holo board. “I try not to play sabacc when there are fanatics breathing down my neck.”
“Yes, the Reverend put on a good show, didn’t he?” Torve agreed. “Don’t know what we would have done without him.”
“Wait a minute,” Lando put in. “You know him?”
“Sure,” Torve grinned. “He’s my contact with the hill clan. He couldn’t have made nearly so much fuss without a stranger like you there for him to pick on, though.”
“Why, that rotten-” Han clamped his teeth together. “I suppose that was his skifter, huh?”
“Sure was.” Torve looked innocently at Han. “What are you complaining about? You got what you wanted-I’m taking you to see Karrde. Right?”
Han thought about it. Torve was right, of course. But still … “Right,” he conceded. “So much for heroics, I guess.”
Torve snorted gently. “Tell me about it. Come on, let’s get into your computer and start coding up a nav module.”
Chapter 21
Mara stepped up to the comm room door, wondering uneasily what this sudden summons was all about. Karrde hadn’t said, but there had been something in his voice that had set her old survival instincts tingling. Checking the tiny blaster hanging upside down in its sleeve sheath, she slapped at the door release.
She’d expected to find at least two people already in the room: Karrde plus the comm room duty man plus whoever else had been called in on this. To her mild surprise, Karrde was alone. “Come in, Mara,” he invited, looking up from his data pad. “Close the door behind you.”
She did so. “Trouble?” she asked.
“A minor problem only,” he assured her. “A bit of an awkward one, though. Fynn Torve just called to say he was on his way in … and he has guests. Former New Republic generals Lando Calrissian and Han Solo.”
Mara felt her stomach tighten. “What do they want?”
Karrde shrugged fractionally. “Apparently, just to talk to me.”
For a second, Mara’s thoughts flicked to Skywalker, still locked away in his barracks room across the compound. But, no-there was no way anyone in the New Republic could possibly know he was here. Most of Karrde’s own people didn’t know it, including the majority of those right here on Myrkr. “Did they bring their own ship?” she asked.
“Theirs is the only one coming in, actually,” Karrde nodded. “Torve’s riding with them.”
Mara’s eyes flicked to the comm equipment behind him. “A hostage?”
Karrde shook his head. “I don’t think so. He gave all the proper all-clear passwords. The Etherway’s still on Abregado-been impounded by the local authorities or some such. Apparently, Calrissian and Solo helped Torve avoid a similar fate.”
“Then thank them, have them put Torve down, and tell them to get off the planet,” she said. “You didn’t invite them here.”
“True,” Karrde agreed, watching her closely. “On the other hand, Torve seems to think he’s under a certain obligation to them.”
“Then let him pay it back on his own time.”
The skin around Karrde’s eyes seemed to harden. “Torve is one of my associates,” he said, his voice cold. “His debts are the organization’s. You should know that by now.”