12

“You’ll do just fine, kid,” Hen said, trying to maintain his roguish grin.

Standing at the door of Han and Leia’s quarters, Kyp Durron nodded. Han noticed a faint trembling around the young man’s lips. “I’ll do my best, Han. You know that.”

Suddenly unable to say another word, Han embraced Kyp, silently cursing the stinging tears that rose to his eyes. “You’ll be the greatest Jedi ever. You’ll give even Luke a run for his money.”

“I doubt that,” Kyp said. He broke away and averted his face but not before Han caught the shimmer of tears in his eyes too.

“Wait,” Han said, “I’ve got something for you before you go.” He ducked back inside and returned to the door with a soft package. Kyp took it with a tentative smile and unwrapped the top layers of paper.

Han watched the young man’s expression. Kyp reached into the package and withdrew a flowing black cape that glittered with subliminal reflective threads, as if it had been woven out of a clear starry night.

“Lando gave it to me—feeling guilty about winning the Falcon, I guess—but I can’t wear stuff like this. I want you to have it. You deserve something nice, after all those years you spent in the dirty spice mines.”

Kyp laughed. “You mean so I can dress up for all those formal occasions at the Jedi academy?” His expression became serious. “Thanks, Han … for everything. But I’ve got to be going. General Antilles is escorting the Sun Crusher to Yavin, and I’ll be going with him. He’ll drop me off at Luke’s academy.”

“Good luck,” Han said.

Kyp said, “I’m sorry you lost the Falcon.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Han said. “She’s a hunk of junk anyway.”

“You got that right,” Kyp said with a smile, but both of them knew he didn’t mean it.

“Want me to walk with you down to the hangar?” Han asked, realizing as he said it that he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

“Naw,” Kyp said, turning away from the door. “I hate long goodbyes. See you around.”

“Sure, kid,” Han said. He watched Kyp’s back for a long time as the young man walked with a feigned bouncy step down the corridors to the turbolift.

Han thought about going back into his room, then decided he’d rather go for a drink instead. Leia was in yet another late-night Council meeting with Mon Mothma, and the kids were already in bed, so Han left Threepio with instructions to remain powered up so he could baby-sit.

Han eventually returned to the lounge where he and Lando had played sabacc for possession of the Falcon.

The window looked out across the sweeping geometrical skyline of the rebuilt Imperial City. Towering metal and transparisteel pillars stretched to rarefied heights. Warning beacons and transmitting towers blinked in multicolored patterns as flying craft swooped on the updrafts between the tall buildings.

At another table a hammerheaded Ithorian ambassador sat by himself next to a small musical synthesizer. He hummed along with the atonal noises and plucked small leaves off a fresh ferny-looking snack. A pug-faced Ugnaught chittered and played electronic dice with a well-groomed Ranat. The bartender droid drifted from one table to another, attempting to be of service.

Han soon lost himself in thought, wondering where he had come to, thinking about how much his life had changed since his years as a spice smuggler for Jabba the Hutt and then as a general in the Rebel Alliance.

He continued to do important things with his life, but it just didn’t seem as real anymore. He had enjoyed spending time with young Kyp Durron. The young man reminded him so much of himself, and now Kyp had gone off to become a Jedi just like Luke.

“You’re gonna miss the kid, aren’t you?” a deep voice said. Han looked up to see Lando Calrissian standing over him with a big smile.

“What are you doing here?” Han said grumpily.

“I’m buying you a drink, old buddy,” Lando said. He shoved forward one of the prissy fruity concoctions, complete with bright tropical flower, that Han had bought Lando on the night of their sabacc game.

Han scowled and accepted it. “Thanks a lot.” He took a sip, grimaced, then took a gulp. Lando pulled up a chair.

“I didn’t invite you to sit down,” Han said.

“Look, Han,” Lando said, adding a stern edge to his voice, “when you won the Falcon from me in a sabacc game, did I spend years pouting and not talking to you?”

Han shrugged and looked up. “I don’t know. I pretty much stayed away all those years.” He paused, then added quickly, “And the next time we saw each other, you betrayed us to Darth Vader.”

“Hey, that wasn’t my fault, and I’ve more than made up for it since,” Lando said. “Listen, I’ve got a deal for you. Next time you get a chance, why don’t the both of us take the Falcon and go back to what’s left of Kessel? Maybe we can find my old ship there. If we do, I’d gladly take the Lady Luck back, and you can have the Falcon.” He held out his broad hand. “Deal?”

Han grudgingly admitted that it was the best he could hope for. “All right, pal,” he said, and shook Lando’s hand.

“Solo,” a woman’s sharp voice said. “They told me I’d find you here.”

“Can’t a guy get some peace?” he said, and turned to see a trim, attractive woman standing at the lounge entrance. She had shoulder-length reddish brown hair the color of some exotic spice. Her features were finely chiseled: a narrow chin and a mouth that looked as if it had spent too many years frowning and was just now learning the shape of a smile. The shards of ice that were Mara Jade’s eyes had warmed somewhat since the last time Han had seen her.

Lando stood up, sweeping his cape behind him and extending his hand. “Well hel-lo! Please join us, Miss Jade. May I get you anything? We’ve met before but I’m not sure you remember me. I’m—”

“Shut up, Calrissian. I need to talk to Solo.”

Lando laughed and went to get her a drink anyway.

Dark patches stood out on the shoulders and sleeves of Mara’s flight jacket, as if it had once borne the insignia of military service. Mara Jade had been the Emperor’s Hand, a special servant to Palpatine himself, and she had seen her life crumble after his death; she had blamed Luke for that and held a vendetta against him until recently.

Now, after the retirement of the great smuggler Talon Karrde, Mara seemed to become more open and ready to participate in broader events. She had managed a tenuous coalition of smugglers to help fight against Grand Admiral Thrawn, and she still maintained a loose alliance, even though some of the worst offenders—such as Moruth Doole on Kessel—refused to have anything to do with the New Republic and the smuggler’s alliance.

“What brings you back to Coruscant, Mara?” Han said. Lando returned bearing another one of his fruity drinks for her and a new one for himself. She looked at it, pointedly ignored it, and continued talking to Han.

“I’m bringing a message. You can pass it on to the appropriate people. Your Imperial friend Admiral Daala has been sending out feelers, trying to hire smugglers as spies and saboteurs. A few have taken the offer, but I don’t expect many of them to trust Daala after what she did to the forces of Kessel. Even though Moruth Doole wasn’t part of our alliance, he was still a smuggler, and smugglers tend to stick together—especially against Imperials.”

“Yes,” Han said, “we got the message that she had attacked one of the supply ships and destroyed it before it could get to Dantooine.”

Mara looked at him, and her gaze became hard again. “Haven’t you heard what happened to your colony on Dantooine? Daala’s already been there, you know.”

“What?” Han said, and Lando echoed his surprise.

“A small group of New Republic engineers is setting up a communications base there,” Han said, “but we haven’t contacted them in the last week or two.”

“Well, there’s no need to,” Mara said. “Dantooine has been leveled. Every person in your colony and all of your New Republic engineers are dead, as of two days ago. Daala attacked with her three Star Destroyers and vanished again to wherever her hiding place is.”

“And so you came here just to give us this information?” Han said, trying to recover from his shock.

Mara took a long, slow drink of the cloying concoction that Lando seemed to be enjoying so much. She shrugged. “I have an agreement with the New Republic, and I keep my agreements.”

As Han felt anger and shock starting to boil inside him at what Daala had done, Lando changed the subject.

“So where are you off to now, Miss Jade?” he said. Leaning forward on the table, he seemed to be trying to melt her with his big brown eyes. Han rolled his.

“You’re welcome to stay here for a while,” Lando said. “I’d be happy to show you some of the sights of the city. There’s some beautiful views on top of the Grand Towers.” Mara looked at him as if considering how much effort it was worth for her to answer his question.

“I’ll be leaving immediately,” she said. “I’m going to spend some time at Skywalker’s Jedi training center. It makes good business sense to learn how to use my Jedi abilities, if only for self-protection.”

Han sat up in surprise. “You’re going to learn from Luke? I thought you still hated Luke! You’ve tried to kill him often enough.”

Mara’s eyes stared back as if ready to blaze through him; then she softened and even smiled. “We’ve … reconciled our differences. You might say we negotiated a truce.” She looked down at her drink but did not touch it. “For now, at least,” she added, and then smiled even more. She stood up to leave. “Thanks for your time, Solo.” She ignored Lando completely and walked out of the lounge.

Lando watched Mara leave, admiring the slick satiny gray fabric of her slacks and tight padded flightshirt. “She sure has gotten beautiful.”

“Yeah, I hear that happens to most assassins once they retire,” Han answered.

Lando didn’t seem to hear him. “How could I have missed her in Jabba the Hutt’s throne room? She was there, and I was there, but I didn’t notice her at all.”

“I was there too,” Han said, “and I didn’t see her. Of course, I was frozen in a block of carbonite at the time.”

“I think she likes me,” Lando said. “Maybe I’ll volunteer to take the next delivery of supplies to Yavin 4, just so I can see her.”

Han shook his head. “Lando, she wanted you to disappear. She didn’t even acknowledge your presence.”

Lando shrugged. “Sometimes it just takes my charm a little longer to work.” He flashed one of his best lady-killer smiles. “But when it does.…”

“Oh, brother,” Han said. He finished his drink and left Lando sitting there, daydreaming as his own drink sat unnoticed beside him.