Into the Void: Star Wars (Dawn of the Jedi) (42 page)

Han considered this, then nodded and holstered his blaster. “Maybe we’re being too
hard on the kid,” he said. “After all, he
did
know about Lando’s stock of Corellian Reserve.”

Leia continued to study Kaeg for a moment, no doubt scrutinizing him through the Force,
then said, “Fair enough. But he’s worried about something.”

“Yes. I’m worried that you aren’t going to let me guide you to Sarnus.” Kaeg glanced
toward the door again, then said, “If you don’t want my help, you know how to use
a holochart.”

He started to rise.

“Not so fast, kid.” Han grabbed Kaeg’s arm. “You’ve been watching the door since you
got here. You expecting someone?”

“Not anymore,” Kaeg said, still watching the front of the cantina. “If you don’t mind,
I have things to do.”

Han pulled the asteroid miner back down, then followed his gaze and saw a huge scaly
green figure entering the cantina. The reptilian was so tall it had to duck as it
stepped through the entrance, and its thick arms hung from shoulders so broad they
rubbed both sides of the door frame. Its spiny skull-crest almost scraped the ceiling,
and a thick tail swept the floor behind him. The creature stopped just inside the
room, vertical pupils dilating to diamonds as its eyes adjusted to the dim light.

“Who’s
that
?” Han asked, keeping one eye on the newcomer.

“No one you’d ever want to meet.” Kaeg slid into the back of the booth and slumped
down in the shadows. “Just one of the Nargons.”

“Who are the Nargons?” Leia asked. “I’m not familiar with that species.”

“Lucky you,” Kaeg said, sinking even deeper into his seat. “You should try to keep
it that way.”

“Care to explain why?” Han asked. “And while you’re at it, maybe why you’re hiding
from them?”

As he spoke, two more Nargons ducked through the door, their big hands hanging close
to the blasters in their knee holsters. They stepped forward to flank the first one
and began to scan the cantina interior.

Kaeg was careful to avoid looking in their direction. “Who says I’m hiding?”

“Kid, I was ducking bounty hunters before your grandfather met your grandmother.”
As Han spoke, the first Nargon’s gaze reached their table and stopped. “I know the
signs, so answer the question—or you’re on your own.”

Kaeg’s brow shot up. “You would back me?”

“Assuming you’re really a friend of Lando’s,” Leia said cautiously, “and
if
you start being honest with us. Then, yes, we have your back.”

The first Nargon said something to its companions. They eased away in different directions,
one going to the far end of the bar, the other drawing angry glares as it jostled
its way into the opposite corner.

Kaeg swallowed hard. “Deal.”

“Good. Tell us what you know about Nargons,” Han said. He reached over and tapped
the holopad controls, and the chart dissolved in a rain of sparkles. “Like, where
do they come from?”

“Kark if I know,” Kaeg said. “I never saw them before the new outfit brought them
in, when the pirates grew bad.”

“New outfit?” Han asked. He was no expert on the Chiloon Rift, but he knew the miners
here were mostly independent operators whose families had been in the business for
generations. “
What
new outfit?”

Kaeg’s lip curled in distaste. “G.E.T.,” he said. “Galactic Exploitation Technologies.
You know them?”

Han had never heard of G.E.T., but he didn’t bother to ask for details. His attention
was fixed on the entrance, where two more figures were just stepping through the doorway.
Unlike the Nargons, this pair was not an exotic species. Standing less than two meters
tall, with shoulders no broader than Han’s, they were almost certainly human. But
they were also wearing full suits of colored armor and blocky helmets with opaque
visors, and that could only mean one thing.

“Mandalorians!” Leia whispered.

“Yeah.” Han hated Mandalorians. Like their leader, Boba Fett, they had a bad habit
of selling their combat skills to the highest bidder—and the highest bidder was almost
always on the side opposite Han. He turned to Kaeg. “What are Mandos doing here?”

“They work security for G.E.T. They’re sort of handlers for the Nargons.” As Kaeg
spoke, the first Nargon leaned down to say something to the taller Mandalorian. “Is
this going to be a problem? Because if you can’t handle Mandalorians, then you really
can’t handle—”

“Relax, kid,” Han said. “We can handle Mandos. We can handle
anything
in this room.”

Kaeg looked doubtful. “Tell me that after you figure out what a Nargon is.”

The first Nargon raised a long arm and pointed toward their booth,
then fell in behind the two Mandalorians as they crossed the room. The muffled rhythms
of the smazzo music continued to reverberate through the tranquility screen, but otherwise
the cantina fell uneasy and still. Judging by all the worried brows and averted eyes,
Han half-expected the other patrons to clear out. Instead, most remained in their
seats, and the miners in the crowd turned to glare openly as the trio passed.

“Not real popular, are they?” Han remarked.

“Nobody likes rock-jumpers,” Kaeg said. “Galactic Exploitation came in fast and hard
with a whole fleet of those giant asteroid crunchers. Trouble is, vessels that big
aren’t nimble enough to run the Rift—and even if they were, G.E.T. crews have no nose.”

“No nose?” Leia asked.

Kaeg scowled. “You need a sixth sense to operate here,” he said. “Outsiders can’t
smell good rock, and they can’t see a lane getting ready to open. They have no feel
for how the Rift moves.”

“So they trail independent operators,” Han said. “And then push in on your finds.”

Kaeg nodded. “
Push in
is one way to say it. Steal is another.”

“And when did that start?” Leia asked.

“About ten standard months ago,” Kaeg said. “G.E.T. showed up a little before the
pirate problem grew bad.”

Leia shot Han a look that suggested she found the timing as suspicious as he did,
but before she could say anything, the Mandalorians arrived with the lead Nargon.
Too huge to fit completely inside the tranquility partition, the reptile stopped halfway
through and loomed over Leia, seemingly oblivious to the gold static dancing over
its scales. The short Mandalorian—a squat fellow in yellow armor—came to Han’s side
and stood with one hand resting on his holstered blaster.

The taller Mandalorian placed a chair at the table across from Kaeg, then removed
his helmet and sat. He had dark, curly hair and a burn-scarred face that still appeared
half-melted along the left side. Barely glancing at the Solos, he placed the helmet
in front of him, then folded his hands on top and leaned toward Kaeg.

“Skipping out on your marker, Kaeg?” he asked. “I took you for smarter than that.”

“I’m not skipping out on anything, Scarn.” Kaeg’s voice was a little too hard to be
natural. “I’m just catching a ride so I can get what I owe you.”

A muffled snort sounded inside the helmet of the shorter Mandalorian, and Scarn sneered.
“Why do I doubt that?”

“Look, you know what those pirates did to my tug,” Kaeg said. “There’s no way she’s
leaving the repair docks for another two weeks, minimum.”

Scarn shrugged. “So?”

“So I’ll be back for her,” Kaeg said. “But it’s going to take more credits than I
had
before
our game to pay for repairs. I’m just heading to Sarnus to make arrangements. I’ll
get what I owe you at the same time.”

“Arrangements with Calrissian?” Scarn rubbed his chin just long enough to pretend
he was thinking about it, then shook his head. “I don’t think so. We don’t like Calrissian,
and he doesn’t like us. We’ll do this another way.”

“That’s the only way we’re going to do it,” Kaeg said. “I’m not giving you the
Roamer
—that ship has been in my family for two hundred years.”

Kaeg overtly dropped his hand below the table, and Han tried not to wince. Hinting
at violence was usually a bad idea when you were outnumbered and outflanked. But at
least Han was feeling better about the kid’s story. Gambling debts he could understand,
having had a few himself, and the debt explained why Kaeg was so eager to get off
Brink Station
. Han rested a hand on his own holstered blaster and tried to look bored, as though
firefights against armored Mandalorians backed by overgrown lizards were a common
occurrence for him … and, really, that wasn’t much of an exaggeration.

The Nargon hissed and started to pull the blaster from its knee holster, but Scarn
called it off with a two-fingered wave.

“There’s no need for anyone to get hurt today.” The undamaged half of his face smiled.
“The last thing I want is that crate of corrosion you call an asteroid tug.”

It was hard to say whether Kaeg’s frown was one of confusion or outrage. “The
Roamer
may not look like much, but she’s all pull,” he said. “She’s dragged moons out of
orbit.”

Scarn looked unimpressed. “If you say so. But I have another idea.” He extended a
hand toward his Mandalorian subordinate. “Jakal?”

Jakal withdrew a pair of folded flimses from a pouch on his equipment belt and handed
them to Scarn.

Scarn unfolded the sheets and pushed them toward Kaeg. “Considering the size of your
marker, that’s more than fair.”

Kaeg eyed the flimses skeptically, then reluctantly picked them up and began to read.
Scarn waited with a bored expression, as though the kid’s consent was irrelevant to
what was about to happen. Han kept his hand on his blaster grip and watched the Nargon
watch him. Jakal’s helmet pivoted from side to side as he kept an eye on the rest
of the miners in the cantina, who were all carefully observing the situation at Kaeg’s
table. The other two Nargons continued to stand guard in opposite corners of the room,
their tails bumping the walls as they, too, scanned the crowd. But no one was watching
Leia, who was probably the most dangerous person in the Red Ronto.

Maybe the situation wasn’t as bad as it looked.

Kaeg was still on the first page when he stopped reading and looked across the table.
“Galactic Exploitation wants my family’s share of the miner’s cooperative?”

Scarn nodded. “That’s right,” he said. “You sign your share over to G.E.T., then G.E.T.
pays me, and your debt is settled. Simple.”

Kaeg looked more confused than alarmed. “Why?”

Scarn shrugged. “All I know is the bosses want to join your little co-op,” he said.
“Maybe they’re worried one of their yachts will need to be rescued or repaired or
something.”

“Then they can pay for an associate membership.” Kaeg tossed the flimses in the middle
of the table. “I’m not giving you a Founder’s Share. I’d be run out of the Rift.”

Scarn’s expression grew cold. “Either
you
put your thumb in the verification box, or Qizak here rips your arm off and does
it for you.”

A nervous sheen came to Kaeg’s lip, but he looked into the Nargon’s eyes and managed
to fake being calm. “Just so you know, Qizak, you touch me and you die. Clear?”

Qizak bared a fang, then looked to Scarn. “
Now
, Boss?”

Leia raised a hand. “Hold that thought, Qizak.” Her voice was
calm and soothing, the way it always was when she made a Force suggestion. “There’s
no rush here.”

The Nargon studied her as though considering whether to rip her limb from limb, or
simply bite off her head.

Leia ignored the glare and focused on Scarn. “How much does Omad owe,
Ver’alor
?”

The eye on the good side of Scarn’s face flashed at her use of the Mandalorian word
for
lieutenant
. But the eye on the scarred side merely pivoted in her direction, its cybernetic
cornea fogging as it adjusted focus.

Scarn studied Leia in silence. His sneer of contempt suggested that he had no idea
she was Princess Leia Organa Solo, sister to Jedi Grand Master Luke Skywalker, and
a famous Jedi Knight herself. And if Scarn hadn’t recognized Leia, it was a pretty
good bet he didn’t realize that her companion was Han Solo, one of the finest gamblers
in the galaxy—and someone who would know how a cybernetic eye might be used to cheat
a kid in a high-stakes sabacc game.

Finally, Scarn asked, “What do you care? You his mother or something?”

Leia’s eyes grew hard. “Or something,” she said. “All you need to know is that I’m
a friend who might be willing to cover his debt … once you tell me how much it is.”

She pointed at the transfer document and used the Force to summon both pieces of flimsy
into her hand.

Scarn’s jaw dropped, then his gaze snapped back to Kaeg. “If you think hiring some
old Jedi castoff will get you out of your marker—”

“She’s not exactly a castoff,” Kaeg interrupted. “But you’ll get your money, Scarn.
Omad Kaeg is no shirker.”

“Yeah, but he
is
kind of a rube,” Han said. He looked Scarn square in his artificial eye, but when
he spoke, it was to Kaeg. “Omad, the next time you play sabacc, make sure it’s not
with someone who has a cybernetic eye. Those things can be programmed to cheat in
about a hundred ways.”

Kaeg’s voice turned angry. “You have a cybernetic eye, Scarn?”

“He didn’t mention that?” Han shook his head and continued to watch Scarn. “You see,
now that’s just bad form.”

Scarn’s face grew stormy. “You calling me a cheater?” His voice sounded just like
the voices of all the other cheaters Han had spotted over the years—well-rehearsed
outrage with no real astonishment or confusion. “Because you weren’t even there.”

“No, but Omad was.” Being careful not to look away from Scarn, Han nodded toward Kaeg.
“What do you think, kid? Fair game or not?”

It was Leia who answered. “Not, I think.” Her eyes remained on the flimsy. “Omad,
a million credits on a
marker
? Really?”

“I needed to pay for repairs,” Kaeg explained. “And I’m usually very good at sabacc.”