[Thrawn Trilogy] - 02(14)
Ferrier’s lip twisted. “We also shot at a couple of bizits who were poking their noses in where they shouldn’t have,” he said sarcastically. “That count?”
“Not when you didn’t hit them,” Luke countered evenly. “As far as I’m concerned, you can leave.”
“You’re too kind,” Ferrier growled. “So is that it?”
“That’s it,” Lando nodded. “Oh, and I want your slicer access code, too.”
Ferrier glared at him, but gestured to the Verpine standing behind him. Silently, the tall green alien lurched forward and handed Lando a pair of data cards. “Thank you,” Lando said. “All right. I’ll give you one hour to get your ship up and out of the system before we drop the hammer. Have a good trip.”
“Yeah, we’ll do that,” Ferrier bit out. “So good to see you, Calrissian. Maybe next time I can do you a favor.”
“Give Amorris a try,” Lando urged him. “I’d bet they’ve got at least a couple of old Sienar patrol ships you could relieve them of.”
Ferrier didn’t reply. In silence, the group passed Lando and Luke and headed back down the empty corridor toward the reception area. “You sure telling him about Amorris was a good idea?” Luke murmured as he watched them go. “The Empire’s likely to get a patrol ship or two out of the deal.”
“Would you rather they have gotten hold of a Calamarian Star Cruiser?” Lando countered. “Ferrier’s probably good enough to have palmed one. Certainly with things as confused out there as they are.” He shook his head thoughtfully. “I wonder what’s going on over in the Empire. It doesn’t make sense to pay premium prices for used ships when you’ve got the facilities to make your own.”
“Maybe they’re having some trouble,” Luke suggested, closing down the lightsaber and returning it to his belt. “Or maybe they’ve lost one of their Star Destroyers but managed to save the crew and need ships to put them on.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Lando conceded doubtfully. “Hard to imagine an accident that would destroy any ship beyond repair but leave the crew alive. Well, we can get the word back to Coruscant. Let the Intelligence hotshots figure out what it means.”
“If they’re not all too busy playing politics,” Luke said. Because if Councilor Fey’lya’s group was also trying to take over Military Intelligence : He shook the thought away. Worrying about the situation wasn’t productive. “So what now? We give Ferrier his hour and then hand those slicer codes over to the Sluissi?”
“Oh, we’ll give Ferrier his hour, all right,” Lando said, frowning thoughtfully at the departing group. `But the slicer codes are another matter. It occurred to me on the way in that if Ferrier was using them to divert workers from this end of the station, there’s no particular reason why we can’t also use them to bump your X-wing to the top of the priority stack.”
“Ah,” Luke said. It was, he knew, not exactly the sort of marginally legal activity a Jedi should participate in. But under the circumstances-and given the urgency of the situation back on Coruscant-bending some rules in this case was probably justified. “When do we get started?”
“Right now,” Lando said, and Luke couldn’t help wincing at the quiet relief in the other’s voice and sense. Clearly, he’d been half afraid that Luke would raise those same awkward ethical questions about the suggestion. “With any luck, you’ll be up and ready to fly before I have to give these things to the Sluissi. Come on, let’s go find a terminal.”
Chapter 3
“Landing request acknowledged and confirmed, Millennium Falcon,” the voice of the Imperial Palace air control director came over the comm. “You’re cleared for pad eight. Councilor Organa Solo will meet you.”
“Thanks, Control,” Han Solo said, easing the ship down toward the Imperial City and eyeing with distaste the dark cloud cover that hung over the whole region like some brooding menace. He’d never put much stock in omens, but those clouds sure didn’t help his mood any.
And speaking of bad moods : Reaching over, he tapped the ship’s intercom switch. “Get ready for landing,” he called. “We’re coming into our approach.”
“Thank yo, Captain Solo,” C-3PO’s stiffly precise voice came back. A little stiffer than usual, actually; the droid must still be nursing a wounded ego. Or whatever it was that passed for ego in droids.
Han shut off the intercom, lip twisting with some annoyance of his own as he did so. He’d never really liked droids much. He’d used them occasionally, but never more than he’d absolutely had to. Threepio wasn’t as bad as some of those he’d known : but then, he’d never spent six days alone in hyperspace with any of the others, either.