Tatooine Ghost Page 26

  Han turned to Leia. “You let them have Twilight?”

  Leia shrugged. “We had other things to worry about.”

  “Other things?” Han demanded. “After all I’ve been through to get it? After all we’ve been through? What could be more important than that?”

  “You, Han,” Leia said. “I told Chewie to take care of you and forget about the Squibs.”

  Han scowled, looking more disappointed than angry. “That wasn’t very smart, was it? Chewie’s the big one.”

  “Han—”

  “You should have sent him after the Squibs and stayed here to take care of me yourself.” Han did not seem to notice that Borno and Chewbacca had stopped talking and were now listening to him and Leia. “Maybe then you wouldn’t have collapsed—”

  “Han!”

  “Yeah?”

  “I did stay,” Leia said.

  “Stay where?”

  “Here, with you.”

  “You did?” Han’s scowl changed to one of confusion. “Then who was watching the Squibs?”

  Leia shook her head. “No one.”

  That seemed to take the efflux out of his nacelles. His jaw dropped and he stared off toward the sandcrawler for several moments, then finally asked, “So you just let the Squibs go after Twilight alone?”

  Leia nodded.

  “Because you were worried about me.”

  Leia nodded again.

  “Well…” For once in his life, Han seemed at a loss for words.

  Chewbacca groaned a suggestion.

  “Huh?” Han asked.

  Chewbacca added an explanation.

  “I suppose that is what you say.” Han turned to Leia. “Thanks.”

  “Don’t mention it.” Leia pasted on her most diplomatic smile, then gathered herself to rise, adding under her breath, “Nerf herder.”

  Borno reached down with his free hand and spared Leia the exertion of lifting herself to her feet. “We will drop you in Motesta. There is an Imperial deserter there who can be trusted.”

  Leia’s mind flashed on the image of Han’s eyes just before the suns had appeared, when the pupils were fixed and dilated. Perhaps the dream had been a vision and perhaps not, but suddenly she could not bear the thought of continuing to travel with the Askajians.

  “Do not be troubled because Gwend was once an Imperial.” Borno grew thoughtful for a moment, then added, “He is the one who helped us come here. And he is helping another tribe come soon. That is why we need the vaporators.”

  Leia began to have a sinking feeling. Askajians were not known for their wanderlust—quite the opposite. If another tribe was coming to Tatooine, there was good reason.

  “How soon?” Leia was thinking of Wedge’s secret mission to Askaj—and of the possibility that Mon Mothma would recall Wraith Squadron if she did not hear from Leia before long. “After Grand Moff Wilkadon’s tour?”

  Borno’s jaw dropped. “How did you guess?”

  “The timing seemed close,” Leia said. “Do you know if they have left Askaj yet?”

  “Not Askaj. But they have left their village. We will not hear from them again until they reach Tatooine.” Borno studied her carefully, then asked, “They have already committed themselves to payment. Will their ship be waiting?”

  “I hope so.” Leia didn’t know how else to answer. She didn’t know the details of the mission, but after such a bold operation, it wouldn’t be unusual for New Republic Intelligence to relocate a group of resistance fighters—leaving them behind would be a virtual death sentence. She laid her hand on Borno’s arm. “I think I know the transport line they’ll be using. I have to contact them anyway, and I’ll certainly urge them to be on time. But Borno, we can’t continue with your caravan.”

  “You want us to leave you?” Borno glanced around the cave. “Here?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Han said, also rising. “We’ve got to find that painting.” He glanced at Leia. “Right?”

  “Right,” Leia agreed.

  Borno looked doubtful. “Forgive me for saying so, but you are a hundred kilometers from the nearest hut, the Squibs have already claimed salvage rights on the sandcrawler—” He ignored the angry outburst this drew from the Jawa. “—and they have no intention of giving you a ride—even if they do get it started. I am sorry, but I do not think you humans will do very well walking.”

  “We won’t need to,” Leia said. Maybe she was just shaken and maybe not, but—for the first time since coming to Tatooine—she felt in her stomach that she was making the right decision. “There are two hoverscouts and plenty of spare parts from the sandcrawler lying around. I’m sure we can cobble something together.” She glanced at Chewbacca. “Can’t we, Chewie?”

  Chewbacca spread his arms and grunted.

  “You see?” Han said, stepping to Leia’s side. “We’ll be fine. Have ourselves a look around, make a couple of repairs, and we’ll be on our way home.”

  Borno studied them carefully for a moment, then asked, “You doubt my judgment? You do not think the stormtroopers are really gone?”

  “I think it would be dangerous to underestimate these Imperials.” Part of Leia’s mind wondered if she wasn’t condemning them to a slow and thirsty death—or a fast one, if the Tuskens returned—but it was a very small part, one she felt more comfortable ignoring than her instincts. “But I am certain we have pushed our luck as far as we dare. Should you run into Imperials later, it will be better for everyone if we aren’t there.”

  Borno spread his hands in imitation of Chewbacca and grunted. “If that is your choice.”

  “It is.” Leia was about to tell Borno not to deny seeing them if the Imperials did find his caravan—then a better idea occurred to her. “Borno, how you would like a portable holocomm?”

  Borno’s already narrow eyes diminished to slits. “What would I have to do for it?”

  “Not much,” Leia said. “Just call the Imperials and tell them you left us back in the Great Chott, after their TIE frightened you and you changed your mind about helping us.”

  “Lie to Imperials?” Borno grinned hugely. “Nobody is better at that than Askajians.”

  “Good.” Leia explained her plan.

  Borno nodded. “I can do that.” He extended the arm holding the Jawa, drawing a hiss of pain from the little being. “We found this survivor hiding in a vaporator crate. I was hoping you could help him. He seems to have broken a leg.”

  “Of course.” Leia looked into the glowing eyes beneath the Jawa’s hood. “I’m no doctor, but I have field-dressed my share of wounds. I’ll do what I can, if you like.”

  “Go mob un loo?” the Jawa jabbered.

  “He wants to know how much it will cost,” C-3PO translated.

  “Tomo!”

  “My apologies,” C-3PO said to the Jawa. “She.”

  Leia smiled. “It won’t cost—”

  “I don’t know,” Han said, cutting her off. He made a show of examining the Jawa’s leg, then turned to Leia and gave her his play-along-with-me look. “That’s a pretty serious break.”

  “Han!” Leia said. “How can you even think—”

  She was interrupted when Chewbacca peered over her shoulder and agreed with Han that it was the worst break he had ever seen.

  C-3PO duly translated this into Jawa.

  The Jawa made a lengthy reply.

  C-3PO translated, “She says the break is not as serious as it looks. She will give you three ion blasters and not a power cell more.”

  Han and Chewbacca glanced at each other and shook their heads, and then Leia understood.

  She peered at the leg and asked, “What’s that lump? It looks awfully big.”

  “I can see my presence is no longer required here,” Borno said. He laid the Jawa on the ground, then tipped his many-jowled chin to Leia and the others. “I will be ready when you are.”

  “I’ll be along as soon as I’m finished here,” Leia replied. The Jawa made another offer.

  “She can a
dd a fine T-eleven repeating blaster,” C-3PO said.

  “A T-eleven?” Han scoffed. “That was old when Tatooine had lakes.”

  “Any vidmaps?” Leia asked. Borno still had theirs, and he was not offering to return it. “We could use a vidmap.”

  “A working vidmap,” Han clarified.

  The Jawa hissed in pain and jabbered, “Yanna kuzu peekay, jo.”

  “She has no vidmaps,” C-3PO said. “But she can tell you how to find anyplace you’re looking for.”

  Han scowled at this. “Isn’t this the sandcrawler that picked up that crashed swoop a couple of nights ago?”

  The Jawa nodded, then, through C-3PO, asked how he knew.

  “Because I was following it,” Han said. “And you left me out in the storm.”

  The Jawa chortled something that sounded like “uh-oh.”

  “She apologizes—”

  “Yeah, I got it,” Han said. “And she’s sure there was no vidmap on that swoop?”

  The Jawa went into an elaborate explanation that, when C-3PO translated it, amounted to “no one in the clan understood the swoop either. Who flies a rocket-powered swoop around in the middle of a sandstorm? Kitster Banai had to have a death wish, or be crazy, or possibly be on the run from a Hutt. In any case, he was on a racing swoop, and racing swoops don’t have vidmaps.”

  Leia recalled that Ulda had made that old Podracer pilot install one on Han’s before selling it to them. “But did Kitster survive? Did he have—”

  The Jawa jabbered an interruption, which C-3PO repeated as, “Herat would like to remind you that you are currently in negotiations over the price of repairing her broken leg. If you wish to discuss the price of the information you are seeking, she would be glad to open those negotiations after you have completed the repair.”

  “Why don’t we trade straight across?” Leia suggested. “The information for the repair?”

  “Oog,” Herat snarled.

  “No,” C-3PO translated.

  “You’re holding back?” Leia could hardly believe it. A broken leg, her crew massacred, surrounded by strangers, and Herat was still maneuvering for advantage. The New Republic should have negotiators like her. Leia met the Jawa’s yellow gaze with new respect, then began to roll up her sleeves. “Well, if a T-eleven and three ion blasters are the best you have to offer, so be it. You get what you pay for in this galaxy.”

  Herat turned to C-3PO and chattered a long sentence.

  “She says you have the hearts of a Hutt,” C-3PO translated. “But she is in pain and doesn’t wish to walk with a limp for the rest of her life. She will tell you what happened to Kitster Banai and his painting.”

  A short chortle.

  “Or his painting,” C-3PO corrected.

  “She drives a hard bargain.” Leia sighed. “Now let’s talk about painkillers.”

  Herat broke into a rapid twaddle.

  “The Tusken Raiders took them both,” C-3PO translated. “She can show you where to catch them.”

  “She can?” Han sounded truly excited. “For that, we’ll throw in an airsplint.”

  “We will?” Leia turned to Han. “You want to chase down a tribe of Sand People?”

  Han shrugged. “It’s a great painting.”

  “Sure it is.” In her mind’s eye, Leia recalled the white suns that had taken the place of Han’s eyes. She began to worry that the dream had not been warning her about the caravan after all; that this had been the path she must not choose—or that the nightmare would come true no matter which she chose. Perhaps that was what the voice meant when it kept saying “mine,” that no matter what she did, the future—at least this part of it—would end the same. To Han, she said, “It’s a great painting—as long as the Sand People keep it watered.”

  Han scowled, clearly confused by her sudden reticence to go after the painting. “It has a moisture-control device. A really great moisture-control device.”

  “I’m aware of that,” Leia said. “But these are Tusken Raiders. Things will get dangerous.”

  “Get dangerous? What do you think…”

  Han let the sentence trail off, then shook his head, his brow rising in guilt or anger—even Leia could not tell which.

  The Jawa chittered a question.

  “Herat asks why the Imperials are so interested in a moisture-control device,” C-3PO said. “And if you can please finish your negotiations with her before opening any more between yourselves. She is in a certain amount of pain.”

  “None of her business and in a minute.” Han kept his eyes fixed on Leia. “I thought you wanted to recover the painting. I want to recover it.”

  Leia stared at him. “Why, Han?”

  “Like I said, it’s a great painting.” Han glanced at the Jawa, clearly trying to decide how much he could reveal. “One I wouldn’t want the Imperials to have.”

  “Why, Han?” Leia repeated. “And I’m not talking about how useful the moisture-control device would be to them. I want to know why you wouldn’t want them to have it.”

  Comprehension dawned in Han’s eyes. “Because I don’t want it hanging in some Imperial admiral’s stateroom.” His tone was growing defensive, a sure sign that they were treading ground close to something he did not want to admit—perhaps something he did not even understand himself. “Didn’t I say that already?”

  “Not good enough,” Leia said. “You’re no longer a member of the New Republic government or military. What do you care if it falls into enemy hands?”

  “I care, okay?” Not even waiting for Leia to shake her head, Han continued, “I’ve been a nerfhead lately.”

  “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  “Mambay,” the Jawa chittered.

  “Herat hopes so,” C-3PO reported.

  Leia ignored them both and waited for Han to continue.

  Han shot her a don’t-push-it look, but said, “I don’t know what I’ve been thinking, acting like the Provisional Council is the whole government. Don’t expect me to sit down with Mon Mothma or Borsk Fey’lya anytime soon, but I’ve got too much on the table to turn my back on the New Republic now.” He thought for a moment, then frowned. “And you’re the biggest part of it, Leia. Nothing’s going to change that.”

  Leia grew almost dizzy—in the good way. “And I wouldn’t want it to.”

  Chewbacca groaned.

  Leia took Han’s hand and would have kissed him, except the Jawa was watching.

  “We have to try,” Han said.

  Leia nodded and said, “In that case, we had better accept Herat’s offer.” She motioned for the medical kit and turned back to the Jawa. “Where can we catch the Sand People?”

  Herat replied with a long burgle.

  “After you have set the leg,” C-3PO said. “She wants to be sure you don’t try to change the terms again.”

  “Okay,” Leia said. “That’s fair.”

  Chewbacca groaned and slapped his brow.

  “Now you’ve done it.” Han shook his head in frustration. “We’ll never get paid.”

  Herat tittered an angry reply.

  “She says she is not that kind of Jawa,” C-3PO reported.

  “Sure she isn’t.” Han rolled his eyes and winked at Chewbacca. “You ever heard that one before?”

  Herat exploded into a flurry of invective.

  “My goodness!” C-3PO gasped. “I don’t think I should repeat that!”

  Herat was still cursing when Leia, taking advantage of the distraction, grabbed the Jawa at the ankle and pulled. There was a soft pop, and the depths beneath Herat’s hood fell dark as her yellow eyes blinked shut.

  “Uh, Leia, dear?” Han asked. “Maybe you missed that part about not getting paid. No matter what they say, with Jawas it’s strictly payment up front.”

  “Han, are you saying you were willing to let that poor creature suffer until she told us what we want to know?”

  “Well, when you put it like that…”

  “Besides, she has a broken leg,�
�� Leia added. “She’s going to need a ride.”

  Han raised his brow. “That’s what I love about you.”

  “Quick learner?”

  “Tough negotiator.”

  Two hours later, Leia and Han were ten kilometers down the canyon, kneeling in the shadows of a small tributary gorge with the proper orientation to obtain a signal, watching the seconds pass on their chronometers and waiting for Mon Mothma to come to the comm station in her private apartment. While still sore, Leia’s shoulder had benefited enough from the bactade that she could use her arm almost normally—as long as she didn’t mind the pain.

  Most of the Askajian caravan had long ago vanished into the labyrinth of desert canyons, but Borno was ten meters up the gorge, sitting astride his dewback and ready to take the holocomm. Chewbacca and C-3PO were waiting with Herat at the mouth of the little ravine, the repulsorlift engine of their captured Imperial hoverscout still running. The Squibs were—presumably—still back in the erosion cave, trying to bring the reactor core of their “salvaged” sandcrawler on-line without the initializer core that Han had found lying among a heap of debris strewn through the cavern by the Tusken Raiders.

  “What part of hurry doesn’t the chief councilor understand?” Han asked. Like Leia, he still wore pieces of stormtrooper armor with the cooling unit turned to high. “It’s been two minutes.”

  By now, Leia knew, the duty officers aboard the Chimaera’s intelligence launch would be reporting a suspicious HoloNet transmission to their watch commander—possibly even Commander Quenton from the auction. About five minutes after the commander was notified, the first flight of TIEs would arrive and find Borno standing atop the rim of the canyon beside the holocomm, waving them down. It would take perhaps another fifteen minutes—thirty, if the Solos were lucky—for an assault shuttle to arrive.

  If all went well, the company captain would believe the tale of contrition he found on the datapad Borno left behind and rush off into the middle of the Great Chott without even bothering to track down the caravan leader. If matters went horribly, Borno had promised he would not be taken alive—and Leia believed him, if for no other reason than his determination to keep secret the location of his village.