Star Wars: The Han Solo Trilogy I: The Paradise Snare (36 page)

“But, Renn …” Sera Tharen began. Her husband turned to her, his glance scathing.

“Sera, I’m tired of you trying to use our daughter as a pawn to further your social ambitions. You’re most of the reason she ran away last year. So
stop it
. Do you understand me?”

“Renn!” Sera Tharen gasped. “How
dare
you speak to me like that?”

“Because I’m angry, Sera, angry clear through,” Bria’s father snarled. “How can you be so blind? You don’t understand the danger our daughter was in on Ylesia! Look!”

Seizing Bria’s hand, her father dragged her over to stand before her mother. Taking her hands, he thrust them out before his wife’s eyes. “Look, Sera! See her hands? See these scars? Those people
mistreated
Bria, they made her a
slave
. She might have died, Sera, if not for Han. I’m grateful to him, even if you don’t have the common decency to realize that! He’s a good kid, and I say that Bria could do far worse.”

“But—” she whispered, wringing her hands and beginning to cry. “Oh, Bria, your poor hands, darling …”

“Not one more word, Sera. I forbid it.”

Sera Tharen subsided into her chair, weeping softly.

Renn Tharen whirled around to confront his son. “Pavik, you’ve become as judgmental and class-conscious as your mother. I’m tired of you, too.” Renn glared at the young man. “You’re talking about a man who
risked his life
to save Bria from slavery. Bria’s right about him applying to the Imperial Academy. Han Solo is a decent guy. He reminds me of myself when I was his age. There are some incidents
in my past I’m not proud of, either. He deserves a chance, not jail. He deserves our thanks, not a call to CorSec.”

When Renn Tharen stopped speaking, silence reigned. Then, with a sobbing gasp, Bria ran to her father and threw her arms around him. “Thank you, Dad!”

   Han had walked the entire length of the Tharen estate, and was on his way back when he saw someone coming down the path toward him. It was Bria, and she carried a good-sized bag slung over her shoulder.

Han saw her expression and stopped. “What is it?”

“Come on,” she said. “Before we’re missed. We’re getting out of here. I don’t trust Pavik not to make that call to security behind Daddy’s back.”

Han turned back toward the transport station. “You sneaked out?”

“I left them a note,” she said defensively. “Did you get the money transferred to Coruscant?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Han said.

They walked for a few minutes in silence, then Bria said, “Someday, I’d like to know all the truth. I hate surprises of this sort, Han.”

He sighed. “I should have told you. I
will
tell you. Everything. I promise. I’m just not in the habit of trusting anyone.”

“I can tell,” she said grimly.

“Nice of your dad to stick up for me.”

“Daddy says you remind him of himself, when he was a young pilot.” She smiled faintly. “I gather he led a rather checkered existence for a few years, out on the Rim.”

Han nodded and, cautiously, reached for her pack. “I’m really sorry about this. Let me carry it?”

She sighed and surrendered her bag. “Okay. It was probably a bad idea to come here, anyway.” After a moment she reached over and took his hand. “Now it’s just the two of us again.”

Han nodded. “That’s the way I like it, sweetheart.”

T
he trip to Coruscant was uneventful. True to his promise, Han related his history to Bria, in unvarnished detail. It bothered him to have to admit many of the things he’d done in the past, but he took his promise to her seriously, and he was as honest as he could be.

At first, Han worried that Bria might be repelled by all of the things he’d done during his checkered past, but she reassured him, saying that she loved him more, now that she knew the truth.

The five-day voyage to Coruscant was a long one. Han was beginning to suffer from boredom by the time the passenger liner docked at one of the massive space stations that serviced the huge Imperial city-world.

From the space station, the passengers were told, they’d be shuttled down to the spaceport in small ships. Han was
surprised to discover that there was almost no place on the giant world where the natural ground could be seen or touched.

“Only in Monument Plaza,” their steward told the assembled passengers who’d traveled on the liner
Radiance
. “There citizens may touch the top of the only mountain on the planet that still remains. About twenty meters of the peak extends into the air. The remainder is all hidden beneath buildings.”

Coruscant, it seemed, was a warren of buildings, skyscrapers, towers, rooftops, and more buildings, all built one upon the other in a giant, labyrinthine hodgepodge. Han raised his hand when the steward asked whether there were any questions. “You say that the topmost rooftops are more than a kilometer above the lowest-level streets? What’s down there?”

The
Radiance
’s steward shook his head warningly. “Sir, take my word for it. You do not want to know. The lowest levels never see the sun. They are so far beneath the clean air that they are fetid and damp and have their own weather systems. Foul rain drips down the sides of the buildings. The alleys are infested with granite slugs, duracrete worms, shadow-barnacles … and, worst of all, by the degenerate remnants of what once used to be human beings. These troglodytes are pale carrion and garbage eaters, disgusting in every way.”

“Huh,” Han whispered to Bria, “sounds like my kinda place.”

“Stop it!” she hissed, smothering a grin. “You are such a smart-mouth …”

“I am, I really am.” Han sat back in his seat, chuckling. “I’m impossible. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

“Neither do I,” Bria said, smiling wryly.

The couple made their way over to one of the viewports on the station while they were waiting for a “surface” shuttle down. “It’s like some beautiful golden gem,” Bria whispered. “All those lighted buildings …”

“It looks like a corusca jewel,” Han said, eyeing the
planet thoughtfully. “Must be where the world got its name.”

They were standing in line, waiting to enter the shuttle, when an official stepped forward and pointed at Han’s blaster. “Sorry, sir, you’ll have to check your weapon. Guns aren’t permitted on Coruscant.”

Han stood there for a long moment; then with a shrug he unbuckled the tie-down strap from around his thigh, then released the big buckle that fastened his gunbelt. Wrapping the belt around the holster and weapon, Han handed it over to the official and received a numbered token in return. “Just give this to the official before boarding your return transport,” the man said, “and you’ll receive your weapon, sir.”

Han and Bria got back into line. Han grimaced at how light his right leg felt without the customary weight against his thigh. “I feel naked,” he mumbled to Bria. “Like I’m in one of those nightmares when you show up for something important and suddenly realize you forgot your pants.”

She began to giggle at the idea. “I didn’t know men had dreams like that, too.”

“I don’t have ’em often,” Han said grimly.

“Well, if nobody’s armed, then it’s still even,” she pointed out reasonably.

Han gave her a look as they started down the aisle of the surface shuttle. “Honey, don’t be naive. There’s an underworld on this planet, and you can bet your pretty eyes they’re armed.”

She glanced over at him as they fastened their seat restraints. “How do you know?”

“I took a look at the Imperial guards.
They
were all armed. I saw security guards on Alderaan, and none of the ones I saw were armed. So it’s a good bet whoever they would be going up against wasn’t either. But these Imperials are armed, and wearing armor, too. Gotta be a reason for it.”

Bria shrugged. “I have to admit, your reasoning makes sense.”

“I’m gonna feel strange walking into that bank tomorrow,
with no blaster at my side,” Han said, looking sadly at his empty thigh.

“Come
on
, Han,” she whispered, “of all the places in the world, they wouldn’t let you walk into a
bank
armed!”

“Why not?” Han asked. “It’s not like a guy could swipe the credits. They don’t keep hardly any credit disks there, or coins either. It’s all electronic data entry onto personal IDs. Good system,” he added thoughtfully. “Saves on guards.”

“Well, it’s a moot point, since you had to leave your blaster,” she said, watching the city-world grow in the viewport. Soon they’d be entering the atmosphere.

“Yeah. Listen, Bria, I guess this is as good a time as any to discuss contingency plans,” Han said.

“For what?” she demanded, alarmed. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“Keep your voice down,” he cautioned. “Nope, I’m not expecting trouble. This should be a smooth operation, a piece of cake. ‘Jenos Idanian’ is clean, ’cause I only used him to open the account and deposit the money. He
should
be laser-proof. But, baby … I learned long ago to
always
plan for trouble.”

“Okay,” she said. “What do you want to plan for?”

“That’s a big city, a big world,” Han pointed out, just as the shuttle kissed the upper edges of the atmosphere. “If anything happens and we get separated, I want to set up a meeting place.”

“Okay, that makes sense,” she said. “Where?”

“The only address I know, ’cause I memorized the location a long time ago, is a bar called ‘The Glow Spider.’ That’s where I’ll be contacting Nici the Specialist,” he said, keeping his voice very low, but not … quite … whispering. Whispers drew attention, Han had learned long ago, where low-voiced conversations did not.

“That’s the guy who can get people IDs so perfect that even the Imperials can’t detect them?”

“Yeah. He’s got contacts with the people in the Imp offices who actually
make
the IDs. They’re perfect, trust me.
Okay, so it’s Nici the Specialist. He hangs out at The Glow Spider. Got that?”

“Nici the Specialist. Glow Spider,” she repeated. “Where is it?”

“Level 132, megablock 17, block 5, subblock 12,” Han recited. “Memorize that perfectly. This world is a maze, Bria.”

Silently she repeated the location to herself over and over, until she could say confidently, “I’ve got it.”

“Good.”

When they reached the “surface”—the rooftop landing field where the shuttle landed—Han left Bria with their scanty luggage while he went over to an automated tourist center to get information and directions. He and Bria needed an inexpensive place to stay while he prepared for the entrance examinations for the Academy. Han planned to rent a cheap room for the duration.

When he came back to Bria, she saw that he had a palm-sized locator computer. “How much did
that
cost?” she asked, eyeing it worriedly. Their funds from the sale of the Ylesian yacht were running low.

“Only twenty,” Han said. “This world’s too easy to get lost on, I figure. All I gotta do is enter our destination, like this …” Squinting with concentration, he entered, “Level 86, megablock 4, block 2, subblock 13 …”

“What’s that?”

“The place where I got us a room for tonight,” Han answered, not looking up. “And … there!”

Directions from their present location appeared on the screen. “First, we take the turbolift down to level 16 …” Han muttered, looking around. “There!”

They headed for the sign marked
TURBOLIFT
.

Once aboard the lift, Bria gasped at the precipitous drop. They fell … and fell …

“Like being in space,” Han said uneasily. “Almost free fall …”

“My stomach doesn’t like this,” Bria gulped.

Fortunately, the turbolift slowed as it reached its destination. Bria staggered off, looking slightly green.

“Now to find megablock 4 …” Han mumbled, still concentrating on his little gadget. “Then we’ll go down again …”

Once out of the turbolift, Bria looked around her in wonder and growing claustrophobia. Everywhere buildings loomed over her, so high she had to crane her neck to see their tops. The tops of many of them supported another rooftop, probably like the one she was standing on.

Even though it had been bright (but chilly) daylight up on the landing pad, here it was dark and warm. No air seemed to move in the duracrete and transparisteel canyons between the buildings. She heard a distant rumble of thunder, but no rain reached her, and she had no way of telling whether the storm was
above
her or
below
her.

Occasional unbarricaded airshafts broke the permacrete on the rooftop, and about a hundred meters away, Bria could see the abrupt line of demarcation at the end of the pavement. Evidently a thoroughfare ran at the deepest levels.

She walked over to look down one of the airshafts and, after one brief glance, staggered back, head spinning and her palms crawling with vertigo. She glanced around, saw no one near her, then dropped to her hands and knees and crawled back to peek over again. As long as she wasn’t standing, she thought that the dizziness might not be too bad.

Nearing the edge of the lip, she held on with both hands and peered down the airshaft.