Shadows of the Empire Read Free Page B

and attend to their petitions, but not today. Now it was time to go and see Vader. By going there instead of insisting that Vader come here, he was giving away an advantage, appearing to be himself a supplicant. No matter. That was part of it; there must not seem to be any contention between them. No one must suspect that he felt anything but the greatest respect for the Dark Lord of the Sith, not if his plans were going to succeed. And succeed they would, he did not doubt it.
    Because they always did.

2
    L eia sat in a bad cantina in the bad part of Mos Eisley.
    You really had to work at it to earn both of those low distinctions. Calling this place a dive would have elevated it four notches. The table was expanded metal, aluminum plate turned into a cheap and easy-to-clean mesh—probably they used a high-pressure solvent hose to wash everything into that drain in the middle of a sunken spot over there in the floor. If they opened the door to the arid outside, it would dry in a hurry. The cup of whatever vile brew it was she had in front of her was certainly losing more liquid to evaporation than to her drinking from it. The air refreshing system must have had a bad circuit—the place was hot, the desert air outside seeping in along with the gutter scum who came to hang out here. It smelled like a bantha stable in the hot summer, and the only good thing about the place was that the light was dim enough so she didn’t have to look too closely at the patrons—from a dozendifferent species and none of them particularly savory-looking examples at that.
    Lando must have done it on purpose, picking this pit in which to meet, just to get a rise out of her. Well. When he finally arrived, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. For a time, she’d hated him, until she understood his apparent betrayal of Han had only been a ruse to help save them from Vader. Lando had given up a lot for that, and they all owed him for it.
    Still, this wasn’t a bar she would have gone into without a good reason—a
very
good reason—and not a place she would have gone alone, despite her protests that she didn’t need a bodyguard. But need one or not, she had one—Chewbacca sat next to her, glowering at the assorted patrons. The only reason Chewie had left her with Luke after the last encounter with Vader was to go with Lando to Tatooine to set up Han’s rescue. Once Leia had arrived, Chewie had stayed as close to her as part of her wardrobe. It was irritating.
    Lando had explained it: “Chewie owes Han a life debt. That’s a big deal among Wookiees. Han told him to take care of you. Until Han tells him otherwise, that’s what he’s going to do.”
    Leia had tried to be firm. She told Chewie, “I appreciate it, but you don’t have to.”
    It was no use, Lando told her. As long as he was alive, Chewbacca was going to be with her, and that was that. She didn’t even speak Wookiee, save for a couple of swear words she thought she recognized, but Lando had smiled and told her she might as well get used to it.
    She almost had, after a fashion. Chewie could understand a number of languages, and while he couldn’t speak them, he could usually make known what he wanted somebody to know.
    Leia liked Chewie okay, but here was another reason to find and free Han—so he could call the Wookiee off.
    Then again, even though she would never admit it, there were times when having a two-meter-tall Wookiee around was useful. Such as in this wonderful place.
    During the last hour, she’d had to look a little closer at several of the patrons than she liked. Despite the fact that she wore old and threadbare freight handler’s coveralls spotted and stained with lube, had her hair wound into a tight and unattractive bun, and did not meet anyone’s gaze, there had been a steady parade of various humans and aliens to her table, trying to pick her up—also despite the fact that a fully grown and armed Wookiee sat at the same table.
    Males. Didn’t seem