Honor Among Thieves

“Hey,” a voice whispered. Han glanced over. A rail-thin Noghri with a heavy brow and permanently bared teeth hissed, “I’m looking for transponder IDs. You selling IDs?”

“I’m not selling anything, sister. I’m just a peaceful-minded civilian on a walk,” Han said. She smiled and nodded. They were both lying, and they both knew it. At least they could be cheerful about it.

“We’re clear,” Scarlet said in his ear. “He’s paid up and they’ve assigned him a room. Head back in.”

“What about his droid?”

“He took it in with him,” Scarlet said. “The common area’s clear.”

“Not leaving it as a sentry? Wow,” Han said. “This guy really is an amateur.”

“I think I’d mentioned that.”

“It’s just that you’re such a professional. Still trying to figure how you lost to him.”

“Haven’t lost yet. Still playing,” she said.

Han angled his way back down the path and toward the accommodations suite. Behind him, he heard the Noghri talking to someone else, asking for IDs she almost certainly didn’t need. When he got back to his place at the tree, Scarlet was framed by the glass wall. She’d altered her hair and changed her stance in some small, subtle, and extremely effective way. She was wearing the same dark pants, the same gray blouse, but she looked like an entirely different woman. The soldier of fortune was gone, and a friendly tourist had taken her place. He wasn’t sure how she did that, but he was getting the feeling that she found it useful to be underestimated. He paused at the tree until she twisted away from the droid, smiled, and waved him over.

He crossed the courtyard with a sense of being vulnerable. There were too many places around here for someone to hide. That he was one of the people looking to sneak through it only made him more aware of the fact.

“This is him,” Scarlet told the droid as Han walked up. “He seriously wanted us to spend the whole trip on the same ship we came here in. Can you imagine anything so utterly boring?”

“I’m sure the gentleman had his reasons,” the droid said.

“I did,” Han said. “They were good reasons, too. Very … reasonable.”

Scarlet frowned a little, and Han lifted his hands. What did you want me to say?

“He was going on about how much safer we’d be onboard ship,” Scarlet said.

“Yes,” Han said, catching on. “Yes, I was. And I’m still not convinced by the security here. We have sensitive documents. For business. I don’t want to see them lost just so we can have a bigger bunk.”

“No need for concern,” the droid said, shaking its silver-gray head. “The rooms here are securely sealed from the time our guests leave until they return. Not even service droids, if you’d like. Though that does reduce the amenities, of course.”

“Not good enough,” Han said, starting to get into the role. “I need absolute assurance that my sensitive documents aren’t going to be disturbed.”

“In addition,” the droid went on, “for a very reasonable fee, encryption-locked safes are available in every room. They can even be set for automatic purge in case of an attempted intrusion.”

Han scowled and looked at Scarlet. He raised his eyebrows. I don’t know. What else do you want?

“It’s perfect,” Scarlet said, handing the droid a credit chit. “We’ll take it.”

“My gratitude, madam,” the droid said. “You will be in 17-C. If you have any concerns, please only ask.”

Scarlet put her arm around Han’s again as she had in the ballroom, and he pulled it back out, unwilling to be steered. Scarlet’s smile was merry. They walked down a short, broad hallway of laser-cut stone. Scarlet tapped her fingertips together, her eyes scanning the other rooms as they passed. Han didn’t ask what she was thinking about. Seventeen-C was a wide room with a low ceiling. The bed was larger than the bunks in the Falcon, but by less than he’d expected. Scarlet made a quick pass through the place, then opened the closet and accessed the safe. It chirped, accepted her credit chit, and clacked open.

“How’s it look?” Han asked.

“Good and bad,” she said. “Magnetic locks. It’s just a mechanism, not a droid, so none of the programming workarounds apply. I want to see if I can get any information on the encryption unit.”

A brilliant white light bloomed around her, sparks like stars cascading down. Han yelped in surprise and jumped toward her. Scarlet turned to him, concerned.

“Are you all right?” Han asked.

“Sure. I’m just trying to get to the encryption unit,” she said, and held up a tiny matte-black tube. “Welding torch.”

“Oh,” Han said. “Right. Carry on.”

The brilliant light came back, and the smell of hot metal. Han lay back on the bed.

“For what it’s worth,” Scarlet said, “I think she’s very lucky.”

“Who is?”

“The Princess.”

“You do? She just watched her world be destroyed by Darth Vader, and now her begging-for-money mission turned into a get-the-dangerous-information-before-the-Imperial-fleet-slags-the-planet mission. I don’t see how you get any less lucky than her without breaking bones.”

“Mmm,” Scarlet said.

Han twisted on the bed, looking at her over his shoulder. “Why? What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing. Here, hold this,” she said, tossing the little welding torch to him. She leaned into the closet. Something groaned and there was a loud ping. She came out with a triumphant expression and a small glowing green square the size of her palm. “Korrison-Mout model eighty.”

“Is that good?”

“It’s better than good, it’s possible. I’m going to need to get the door-seal protocols, too. Hold on.”

She sat on the bed beside him and pulled up the computer. The screen displayed a simple login, and she took a small gray chip out of her pocket and slid it into the access port with an audible click. The screen froze, shuddered, and a stream of complex data started scrolling up. Han sat upright, cross-legged. Scarlet tapped the keyboard. A simple prompt appeared. She started typing.

“He got lucky,” Scarlet said.

“Who?”

“Hunter Maas. He was working on Galassian’s estate as a gardener. He talked one of the security detail into doing something stupid, and then when it went south, he left her to get burned for it.”