[Thrawn Trilogy] - 02(87)

“Which was?” Han prompted.

Lando took a deep breath. “The Katana fleet.”

Han stared at him, an icy feeling digging up under his breastbone. The Katana fleet : “That can’t be right, Lando,” he said. “Got to be a mistake.”

“No mistake, Han,” Lando shook his head. Digging his fingers in harder, he lifted the edge of the gray covering high enough to show the material beneath it. “I once spent two whole months researching the Dark Force. This is it.”

Han gazed at the age-dulled blue-gold cloth, a sense of unreality creeping over him. The Katana fleet. The Dark Force. Lost for half a century : and now suddenly found.

Maybe. “We need something better in the way of proof,” he told Lando. “This doesn’t do it by itself.”

Lando nodded, still half in shock. “That would explain why they kept us aboard the Lady Luck the whole way here,” he said. “They’d never be able to hide the fact that their Dreadnaught was running with only two thousand crewers instead of the normal sixteen. The Katana fleet.”

“We need to get a look inside one of the ships,” Han persisted. “That recognition code Irenez sent-I don’t suppose you made a recording of it?”

Lando took a deep breath and seemed to snap out of it. “We can probably reconstruct it,” he said. “But if they’ve got any sense, their code for getting in won’t be the same as their code for getting out. But I don’t think we have to get aboard the ships themselves. All I need is a good, close look at that,t repeater display panel back in the headquarters lounge.”

“Okay,” Han nodded grimly. “Let’s go and get you that look.”





Chapter 16


It took them only a few minutes to make their way back to the headquarters lounge. Han kept an eye on the pedestrian and vehicle traffic as they walked, hoping they were still early enough for the place to be empty. Getting a close look at that repeater display would be tricky enough without a whole bunch of people sitting around with nothing better to do than watch what was happening at the bar. “What exactly are we looking for?” he asked as they came in sight of the building.

“There should be some specialized input slots on the back for the full-rig slave circuitry readouts,” Lando told him. “And there’ll be production serial numbers, too.”

Han nodded. So they were going to need to get the thing off the wall. Great. “How come you know so much about the fleet?”

“Like I said, I did a lot of studying.” Lando snorted under his breath. “If you must know, I got stuck with a fake map to it as part of a deal back when I was selling used ships. I figured if I could learn enough about it to look like an expert I might be able to unload the map on someone else and get my money back.”

“Did you?”

“You really want to know?”

“I guess not. Get ready; it’s show time.”

They were in luck. Aside from the bartender and a couple of deactivated serving droids behind the bar, the place was deserted. “Welcome back, gentlemen,” the bartender greeted them. “What can I get you?”

“Something to take back to our quarters,” Han told giving the shelves behind the bar a quick once-over. They had a good selection here-there were probably a hundred bottles of various shapes and sizes. But there was also a door off to the side that probably led back to a small storeroom. That’d be their best bet. “I don’t suppose you’d have any Vistulo brandale on hand.”

“I think we do,” the bartender said, peering back at his selection. “Yes-there it is.”

“What’s the vintage?” Han asked.

“Ah-” The bartender brought the bottle over. “It’s a `49.”

Han made a face. “Don’t have any `46, do you? Maybe stashed in the back room somewhere?”

“I don’t think so, but I’ll check,” the bartender said agreeably, heading toward the door.

“I’ll come with you,” Han offered, ducking under the bar and joining him. “If you don’t have any `46, mayle there’ll be something else that’ll do as well.”

For a second the bartender looked like he was going to object. But he’d seen the two of them having a friendly drink earlier with Bel Iblis himself, and anyway, Han was already halfway to the storeroom door. “I guess that’d be okay,” he said.

“Great,” Han said, opening the door and ushering the bartender through.

He didn’t know how long it would take Lando to get the repeater display off the wall, check it out, and then put it back up. On the theory it was better to play it safe, he managed to drag out the search for a `46 Vistulo for a full five minutes. Eventually, with cheerful good grace, he settled for a `48 Kibsbae instead. The bartender led the way out of the room; mentally crossing his fingers, Han followed.