Honor Among Thieves

“Because no one will notice that.”

“I have decking tape,” she said. “I’ve got a high-strength grapnel line that will get us up the vertical parts, and that will get us here.” A tiny point of brilliant red appeared on the map, very close to the end of the green pathway.

“Where everything will be open and easy, and no one will get hurt,” Han said.

“Where I can use the passcodes and identity records I got while I was working with Galassian to get access and drop a copy of the report to a memory chip.” Scarlet’s mouth twisted into a tiny smile that was as much regret as amusement. Han looked at the little crimson dot, but the glow didn’t give him anything that would explain her expression.

“All right,” he said. “And then what?”

“And then every alarm on the planet goes off, and we leave very, very quickly.”

“Let’s go back to my last points, which were ‘terrible plan’ and ‘not going to happen.’ ”

“This is the part where things are a little more problematic,” she said. “I haven’t been able to get a full breakdown of the intelligence service emergency intrusion protocols. But we’ll have the advantage of knowing that it’s going to happen. No one will expect that anybody would attempt to breach physical security like this—”

“You know there’s a reason they wouldn’t expect that, right?”

“—but this is why I needed to wait until I had a way off planet that could go immediately. There is going to be a gap when people are confused and scrambling. If we’re not in hyperspace before they restore order, we’re screwed.”

Han waved his arms through the hologram, and CZ let the image fade.

“We’re in the Galactic Core and we’re working for the Rebellion,” Han said. “In most contexts, that’s screwed enough right there. I can get you out of here right now, but that’s because I’m the best pilot there is. If we light up the security arrays before we even get to the ship—”

“You’re not that good?” Scarlet asked innocently.

“Nobody’s that good.”

“Not even the man who made the Kessel Run in thirteen parsecs?”

“Twelve,” Han said around a grin. “I did it in twelve. So you have heard of me.”

Scarlet Hark smiled, and then sobered. “I’ve spent a lot of time trying to find out what Galassian found. And I’ve watched some good people die because I asked them to. I have to get that before we leave. If you want to wait in the hangar, I won’t stop you, but I think my chances would be better if you came with.”

“You see now, that’s sounding more like you’re asking for my help.”

“I’m asking for your help.”

They were silent for a moment. Han tapped his fingers against the fake leather of the Imperial uniform’s boot.

“What do I get out of it?” he asked.

“Bragging rights.”

“That’s pretty thin.”

“Bragging rights and the undying gratitude of the Alliance.”

“How about bragging rights, undying gratitude, and three thousand credits as a performance bonus.”

“Done,” she said.

Han blinked. “Really?”

“I’d have gone to six, if you’d asked.”

“I’d take six.”

“Three it is,” she said, standing up and checking the time. “If we leave here in an hour, that will put us just about where we need to be. What do you need to get the ship ready?”

“The ship’s ready,” Han said. “What about your pet droid? How does he fit into this?”

“Ma’am?” CZ asked, and the electronic voice seemed to hold some weight of meaning that Han couldn’t quite fathom. Scarlet looked at the blue droid, and her face seemed to soften. Han felt a moment of awkwardness and discomfort, as if he was seeing something intimate.

“This is it,” she said. “Finish this, and we’re square.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the droid said, and bowed its head. Scarlet put her hand on its shoulder.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

Han cleared his throat. “Am I missing something here?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Scarlet said, her voice crisp and amused again. “Let’s go over the plan.”

CZ re-formed the schematic hologram, and for half an hour Han and Scarlet Hark went over each detail. Where the entrances to the building were, the schedule of the patrols, the placement of the conduit. CZ interrupted once to deliver a forged identity card with Han’s face on it still warm from the fabrication unit. Scarlet packed her equipment from the spare bed with a practiced efficiency. The tools of spycraft folded into the seams of her pants and the sleeves of her jacket.

When they were done, Han called Chewbacca on his comlink. The Wookiee’s roar overloaded the tiny speaker, making his words a stuttering crackle.

“Well, I’m checking in now, aren’t I?” Han said. “I found her, but there’s an errand we need to do before we go.”

Chewbacca’s growl was a warning.

“I don’t like it, either, but I talked her up to a three-thousand-credit bonus if I help her out. You just make sure the engines are warmed up and the clearances are ready. We’re probably going out hot.”

Chewbacca whined and grunted. Scarlet raised her eyebrows and smiled. Han found himself smiling back.

“Well, we didn’t get where we are by playing it safe, did we?” he asked. Chewbacca’s shout was louder and more obscene than usual. Han dropped the connection to the soft sound of Scarlet’s laughter.

“He knows you pretty well,” she said.

“We’ve shipped together for a long time,” Han said. “Are we ready to do this?”

She frowned. “You look like you slept in those clothes,” she said. “It’ll stand out. CZ? One last favor?”

“Of course, ma’am,” the droid said.

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Han said. “What are you thanking him for?”

Scarlet tilted her head. “We need to press your uniform. If we had time, we’d get you a haircut, too, but we’ll make it work.”

“All right, but I’m wearing it,” Han said.

“So take it off. We don’t have much time.”

Han hesitated.

“If it helps, I promise not to look,” Scarlet said.