Honor Among Thieves

Han leaned forward, steadying himself on the plaque, and sank his arm into the cold water. Smooth stone with gummy sealant at the joints. He shifted left and then right. His fingers touched something out of place and hard, and he dug at the place where it was adhered to the stone. It popped away with a satisfying click.

The case was brown and about the size of his palm. Han slipped it into his pocket and strolled away to a bench while Chewbacca finished his performance, then applauded politely as the Wookiee stalked over, sat beside him, and growled.

“If that’s the worst thing that happens to you on this run, we’ll have gotten away with something. Now let’s see what we’re working with.”

Chewbacca grunted and whined.

“Yes, I’m opening it here. Look, if they noticed us, they’d follow us anyway. And if they didn’t, then we might as well.”

Now that it was dry, the cover of the case had a deep, almost iridescent sheen like an insect’s shell. Han ran his thumbnail around the edge until it caught against an invisibly thin seam. He twisted once, leaning into the motion, and the cover snapped open. A tiny pad glowed a soft but forbidding red. He carefully entered the passcode, and the pad chirped happily, shifted to green, and swung open. The small compartment behind it was empty. Chewbacca groaned accusingly.

“How could it possibly be my fault,” Han said as Chewbacca plucked the case from his hand. “I wasn’t there when she put it in the drop.”

Chewbacca tapped the case against the arm of the bench hard enough to make the metal chime, then peered into the space again.

“All right,” Han said. “There’s nothing here. So this is probably a trap, and we just took the bait. When they stop us, we stick to the story. We found the thing, we don’t know what it is, and they’re welcome to have it if they want it.”

Han looked around the park, trying to seem casual. No stormtroopers were flooding into it yet. He had to fight the urge to draw his pistol and sprint for the fliers. Chewbacca moaned.

“I wouldn’t believe us, either.”

“Solo.”

The voice was unexpected, calm, and friendly. Han twisted in the bench. The Mirialan walking across the grass toward them was broad and thick. His yellow-green skin was darker now than it had been when he was younger, and he had a few more tattoos on his chin and cheeks, but not many. He walked with a rolling gait that made him seem halfway to drunk, though as far as Han knew he never drank to excess.

“Baasen Ray? What are you doing here?”

“Waiting on you, apparently,” Baasen said. “Chewbacca. Good to see you again. Been too long.”

The Wookiee groaned and bayed. Baasen’s expression went pained. “What’d he say?”

“He said you’re looking good,” Han said. “He was just being polite, though.”

“Sorry,” Baasen said, nodding to Chewbacca. “It’s my hearing. Got a hard enough time making out all the words even in my own language. So blast it, man, but it’s been a long time. Guess you really are working for the rebels, eh?”

“What makes you say that, friend?”

Baasen rolled his eyes. “That when Hark called to get pulled, you showed up at her drop. Doesn’t take a genius to add those two sums, does it? Truth is, I was more than half expecting you. Takes a madman or an idiot, flying rebel spies out of the Core, and … well, word gets about. Who’s working for who. Like that.”

“Really? I haven’t heard much about what you’ve been up to. Last I heard, you were running the slow loop out of Hoven.”

“Hard times. Hard times. Turns out I’m getting pulled by the same strings as you. Rebel Alliance. ’S why I’m here now. Watch the drop. Make contact. All of that.”

“You’re the message at the drop?”

“Well now, the woman’s not an idiot. You didn’t really expect her to leave written instructions on how to track her just lying about in public, did you?”

Chewbacca pressed the case into Baasen’s broad hand with a chuffing groan.

“Sorry, what?”

“He said that we should get out of here, and I think he’s right. You have transport?”

“Transport’s what I do best,” Baasen said. “Follow on, then.”

Baasen trundled off to the north, not looking back to see whether they were coming. The men playing their game on the green ignored them as they passed. At the building’s edge, a gray transport floater hovered over the empty air, its docking ramp clinging to the pavement of the park. The same droid that had ordered Han back from the edge, or else one just like it, was squawking at a lifting droid and being magnificently ignored. As Baasen stepped onto the ramp, the park droid shifted its outrage to him with as little effect. Han and Chewbacca stepped around it as they passed, and the lifting droid turned to follow, hauling up the ramp after them.

“I have to tell you,” Han said. “After Caarsin Station, I’m a little surprised to see you.”

“Everyone’s got history,” Baasen said amiably. “Man still has to work, whatever’s in his past, eh?”

The interior of the transport was almost reassuringly musty and cobbled together. Three men squatted in the back. Two had the look of mercenaries; the last was thinner and more nervous about the eyes. They all wore blasters openly, and while they were cleaner than the average soldier of the Rebellion, they weren’t anywhere near as crisp as the usual citizen of Cioran. Baasen knocked twice on the door to the pilot’s cabin, and the transport swept out and down. Baasen, humming to himself, flicked a switch on the wall and tapped in a code on a keypad. Han nodded to the three men. They didn’t smile. Han’s belly went a degree tighter.

“Who’re your friends?” he asked Baasen, his eyes on the men.

“Hmm? Oh. Garet and Simm there are part of my crew. Have been since forever. Japet, on the end there? He’s a new friend. Just met him recent.”

The rumble in Chewbacca’s throat was a warning, but Han didn’t need it. He dropped his hand casually toward his holster, getting close to the blaster without going for it.

“Good to meet you,” he said with a disarming smile.

“Now, none of that,” Baasen said. A blaster had appeared in his hand, and Han hadn’t even seen him draw it. “We’ll need your weapons.”

Chewbacca bared his teeth with a bloodcurdling howl, but Baasen’s aim didn’t waver so much as a millimeter.