And after that, there was nothing left to do but wait. And wonder if Khabarakh would indeed come.
The topmost bit of the walled city Ilic poked through the clutching trees of the jungle pressing tightly around it, looking to Han for all the world like some sort of domed topped, silver-skinned droid drowning in a sea of green quicksand. “Any idea how we land on that thing?” he asked.
“Probably through those vents near the top,” Lando said, pointing at the Lady Luck’s main display. “They read large enough for anything up to about W-class space barge to get into.”
Han nodded, fingers plucking restlessly at the soft armrest of his copilot seat. There weren’t a lot of things in the galaxy that could make him nervous, but having to sit there while someone else made a tricky landing was one of them. “This is even a crazier place to live than that Nomad City thing of yours,” he growled.
“No argument from me,” Lando agreed, adjusting their altitude a bit. Several seconds later than Han would have done it. “At least on Nkllon we don’t have to worry about getting eaten by some exotic plant. But that’s economics for you. At last count there were eight cities in this part of New Cov, and two more being built.”
Han grimaced. And all because of those same exotic plants. Or to be specific, the exotic biomolecules that could be harvested from them. The Covies seemed to think the profit was worth having to live in armored cities all the time. No one knew what the plants thought about it. “They’re still crazy,” he said. “Watch out, they may have magnetic airlocks on those entrance ducts.
Lando gave him a patient look. “Will you relax? I have flown ships before, you know.”
“Yeah,” Han muttered. Setting his teeth together, he settled in to suffer through the landing.
It wasn’t as bad as he’d expected. Lando got his clearance from Control and guided the Lady Luck with reasonable skill into the flaring maw of one of the entrance ducts, following the curved pipe down and inward to a brightly lit landing area just beneath the transparisteel dome that topped the city walls. Inbound customs were a mere formality, though given the planet’s dependence on exports, the outbound scrutiny would probably be a lot tighter. They were officially welcomed to Ilic by a professional greeter with a professional smile, given a data card with maps of the city and surrounding territory, and then turned loose.
“That wasn’t so hard,” Lando commented as they rode a sliding spiral ramp down through the spacious open center. At each level walkways led outward from the ramp to the market, administrative, and living areas of the city. “Where are we supposed to be meeting Luke?”
“Three more levels down, in one of the entertainment districts,” Han told him. “The Imperial library didn’t have much detail on this place, but it did mention a little tap cafe called the Mishra attached to some half-size version they’ve got of the old Grandis Mon theater on Coruscant. I got the impression it was kind of a watering hole for local big shots.”
“Sounds like a good place, to meet,” Lando agreed. He threw Han a sideways look. “So. You ready to show me the hook yet?”
Han frowned. “Hook?”
“Come on, you old pirate,” Lando snorted. “You pick me up at Sluis Van, ask for a lift out to New Cov, send Luke on ahead for this cloak-and-blade rendezvous-and you expect me to believe you’re just going to wave goodbye now and let me go back to Nkllon?”
Han gave his friend his best wounded look. “Come on, Lando-“
“The hook, Han. Let me see the hook.”
Han sighed theatrically. “There isn’t any hook, Lando,” he said. “You can leave for Nkllon any time you want to. `Course,” he added casually, “if you hung around a little and gave us a hand, you might be able to work a deal here to unload any spare metals you had lying around. Like, oh, a’ stockpile of hfredium or something.”
Carefully keeping his eyes forward, he could still feel the heat of Lando’s glare. “Luke told you about that, didn’t he?” Lando demanded.
Han shrugged. “He might have mentioned it,” he conceded.
Lando hissed between clenched teeth. “I’m going to strangle him,” he announced. “Jedi or not, I’m going to strangle him.”
“Oh, come on, Lando,” Han soothed. “You hang around a couple days you listen to people’s jabberings, you maybe dig us out a lead or two about what Fey’lya’s got going here, and that’s it. You go home and back to your mining operation, and we never bother you again.”
“I’ve heard that before,” Lando countered. But Han could hear the resignation in his voice, “What makes you think Fey’lya’s got contacts on New Cov?”