Thick as Thieves, Part 2

“New Cov?” Han frowned down at the cloud-speckled planet turning beneath them. “Why?”

“The message didn’t say. Just that he’d meet you at the, quote, money-changing center, unquote.”

“The—?” Han shifted his frown to Lando. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s talking about the Mishra tapcafe in Ilic where he and I met while you were following Breil’lya,” Lando said. “Private joke—I'll fill you in later.” —Dark Force Rising

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The Princess of Corellia had once been hailed as the most extravagant starliner in the galaxy, the destination of choice for Moffs, Grand Moffs, and other high-ranking officials among the catered ranks of the Empire. Sporting the most extensive collection of liquors outside Coruscant and more sabacc tables than the Coral Vanda, the Princess billed itself as the premier luxury liner of the Imperial elite. It was even said that Emperor Palpatine himself had once requisitioned the liner for his own personal cruise, though Lando had always been a little suspicious of that claim.

Of course, after Endor all that had changed. Like Calius saj Leeloo after the Clone Wars, the Empire’s demise and collapse had been a particularly heavy blow to the once-prosperous clientele of the Princess. And while the Princess was still an impressive liner in its own right, it had become a pale shadow of its former glory, mostly catering these days to mid-ranking Outer Rim officials and high-rolling fringe-types.

Like Niles Ferrier, Lando reflected bitterly, casting a look around the Princess’s main casino room. Fifteen sabacc tables scattered over three decks; holo-chess and lugjack units against the back wall; a fully-stocked bar and two restaurants; yes, it was still an impressive casino in its own right. And if the furniture looked a little worn these days or the chandeliers a little tarnished…well, what was that compared with the pride of being able to say you’d taken a trip about the Princess of Corellia?

Beside Lando at the main bar, Wedge at least seemed to be getting a thrill out of this. “You think he’s still here, General?” he asked, taking an almost too-casual sip from his drink. Wedge had always gotten a kick out of this cloak-and-blade stuff.

“He’s here,” Lando said, taking in the air and thinking back to that last encounter aboard the Coral Vanda. Yes, Ferrier was still here. Even through all the other smells and aromas, Lando could detect that lingering hint of the carababba tabac Ferrier so favored in his cigarras. Ferrier was here, or had been recently; at this very spot, possibly. Lando gave the room another scan, checking each table’s occupants before moving on to the next. If he knew Ferrier, the thief always liked to try his hand at sabacc after hitting up the bar…

“Calrissian,” the comlink nestled against Lando’s collar hissed—a little trick he’d picked up from Han. “We have a possible ID on Ferrier. Table Thirteen. Take a look.”

Lando did just that, turning his gaze casually across the main floor towards one of the tables in the center. 

“That’s him, Irenez,” Lando confirmed. He’d recognize that dark beard and trademark cigarra anywhere.
“He must have just sat down.”

“Looks that way to me, too,” Irenez agreed. “You want to approach now, or wait till he’s done?”

Lando considered. “Let’s do it now,” he said. “Ferrier’s slipperier than you might think, and there’s a good chance we could lose him in this crowd.”

“Whatever you say,” Irenez said with an audible shrug. “It’s your call.”

Lando reached a hand up and switched off the comm. “I take it we’re up?” Wedge asked.

“We’re up,” Lando nodded, giving Wedge a final once-over. With his military-style haircut and general bearing, Wedge didn’t look much like your usual sabacc player.

But then, that was sort of the point. “We’re up,” Lando repeated, “or rather, you are. Table Thirteen. You remember the script?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wedge said with a dismissive wave. The guy really was getting a kick out of this cloak-and-blade stuff! “Don’t worry, I’ve got it down.”

“All right,” Lando said, getting up from his seat. “Then good luck. I’ll meet you back at the ship.”

* * *

There were three of them already seated at Table Thirteen as Wedge approached: the bulky human who was apparently Niles Ferrier, plus one more human and a shaggy-maned ZeHethbra. At the head of the table stood a polished SE4 servant droid, apparently pulling dealer duty. “Deal me in,” Wedge told it as he slumped down into one of the empty seats.

They all turned to look at him. “We have already commenced betting…” the ZeHethbra started.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the dealer explained, “but new players are not allowed to join once the betting has begun.”

“Oh,” Wedge said, feeling a little nonplussed. “Well, I’ll just wait till the next hand, then.”

He watched in silence for a while as the players quietly weighed their cards and began placing their bets. “So where’s everybody from?” he tried.

They all turned to look at him again, this time with more annoyed expressions. “I’ll start,” Wedge offered.  “I’m from Abregado. Shipping magnate.” He turned towards the ZeHethbra. “What about you?”

“Do you mind?” the ZeHethbra asked, his shaggy mane rippling irritably. “I’m trying to place a bet here.”

“Sorry,” Wedge said sheepishly, turning towards the human sitting next to him. “What about you?”

The human glared at Wedge for a long moment. “Palanhi,” he muttered at last.

“Palanhi!” Wedge smiled. “How about that? Palanhi’s pretty close to New Cov, isn’t it? You ever been there?”

“Not really,” the human said.

“You should check it out,” Wedge urged, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Ferrier now. “I hear they’ve got a really good money-changing center.”

There was no mistaking it; he definitely saw Ferrier twitch. “What did you say?” Ferrier asked.

Wedge turned to look at him. “I said a friend of mine told me to check out the money-changing center on New Cov.”

“New Cov only deals in Republic credits,” the other human interrupted impatiently. “They don’t have a money-changing center.”

“Oh,” Wedge said, once again nonplussed. “Well, that’s what my friend told me, anyway.”

The human snorted and turned his attention back to his hand. “Where did you say you were from again?” Ferrier asked Wedge.

“Abregado,” Wedge repeated. “Abregado-rae, to be more specific. Shipping magnate.”

“And what is it exactly you ship?”

“Oh, all sorts of stuff,” Wedge said airily. “Transparisteel, hfredium; you name it, we ship it. Even do a little in biomolecules when the price is good.” He saw a sudden opening. “Why, we must have shipped seventeen crates of the stuff in the last month alone.”

There was that twitch again. “Seventeen, huh?” Ferrier repeated. “Lot of money in that?”

Wedge smiled. “Sure, if you get the right customer.”

“Twenty-three!” the ZeHethbra interrupted suddenly, throwing his cards down on the table. Wedge took a look. It was a pure sabacc, all right: the six of Staves and the four of Coins, plus the Ace of Sabres and the Queen of Air and Darkness. “Congratulations, sir,” the droid said, even as the rest of the table groaned. With a toothy grin the ZeHethbra pulled the sabacc pot toward him.

“Well, this is getting too expensive for my tastes,” Wedge decided, getting up from the table. “Maybe I’ll try my hand at something safer. You all take care, okay?”

“Sure, sure,” the ZeHethbra said, not even looking up. Ferrier gave Wedge one last parting nod before returning his attention to the sabacc table.

And that, Wedge figured as he started heading back to the bar, was that. The rest was up to Calrissian now.
Hopefully he had it down, too.

* * *

Lando was sitting patiently in one of the passenger cabins of the Lady Luck when the call finally came in. “Calrissian? Ferrier’s on his way.”

“Copy that,” Lando said, glancing up from the data pad he’d been reading and taking a look at the monitor to his right. At first it showed nothing except a darkened view of Docking Bay Seventeen, the rows of starships and pleasure yachts looking abandoned and empty. But a moment later Lando spied the silhouette of a bulky man moving stealthily among the ships towards the Lady Luck. “Got him,” he told Wedge, setting aside the data pad. “Thanks. I’ll take it from here.”

A couple seconds later Lando heard the sound of heavy bootsteps coming from the Lady Luck’s entry ramp. “In here, Ferrier,” Lando called.

There was a brief hesitation; and then Niles Ferrier, spaceship thief, stepped around the corner. “Well, well,” Ferrier said, grinning behind the cigarra gripped between his teeth. “Hello there, Calrissian. Coincidence running into you here.”

“Not such a coincidence,” Lando said. “You seem surprised to see me, Ferrier. Didn’t you get my message?”

“Oh, I got it, all right,” Ferrier confirmed. “‘Money-changing center on New Cov,’ right? Cute, real cute. I just as soon figured it was Solo. Last I recall, you and me didn’t finish on such friendly terms. Speaking of which,” he added, dipping his hand into his waist sash. When he pulled it back out, it was with a blaster in it. “If you wouldn’t mind keeping your hands where I can see them.”

“Put that away, Ferrier,” Lando chided at the blaster pointed at him. “I came here to talk. I didn’t come here to kill you.”

“Maybe not,” Ferrier conceded, glancing around the cabin. “But who said I didn’t come here to kill you? Just keep your hands where I can see them and tell me where your little friend ran off to.”

“He had other business to take care of,” Lando said evenly, gesturing one of the other chairs in the room.  “Now sit down.”

For a moment Ferrier just glared at him over the blaster. Then, reluctantly, he dropped down into one of the chairs facing Lando. “All right,” he growled, putting the blaster back in his sash. “You wanna talk? Then talk.”

But Lando shook his head. “There’s one more thing,” he said. “Would you mind asking your friend outside to join us?”

There was a flicker of surprise behind that bushy beard, followed by a longer look of annoyance. Then, with a sigh, Ferrier glanced over his shoulder. “Wraith,” he called back into the corridor. “Get in here. Now.”

Lando looked up at the doorway, just in time to see a shadow remove itself from the corridor wall and slide into the room. “That’s better,” Lando said with a smile as Ferrier‘s wraith—or Defel, as they were more properly known—took a seat in the other chair. “You know, Ferrier, you’ve been causing the Republic quite a lot of trouble lately. First there was that little stunt on Sluis Van. Then you almost got me killed on the Coral Vanda and helped Grand Admiral Thrawn track down our contact for the Katana fleet. Seems to me one call to the nearest outpost and you and your friend here will be spending the rest of your lives in a Republic prison.”

Ferrier took a long puff on his cigarra. “I thought you wanted to talk,” he pointed out.

“We are talking,” Lando said. “I’m here to offer you a deal that will wipe that record clean. Give you a fresh start.”

Beside Ferrier, Lando heard his wraith snort. “What makes you think we want a fresh start?” Ferrier asked.

Lando shrugged. “Partly because it’s good business. Mostly because you’ve spent the past week holed up here on the Princess of Corellia instead of making runs. What, you think your little handiwork for the Grand Admiral has bumped you to the top of the Republic’s locate-and-detain list?”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Ferrier admitted.

“Ferrier, most people in the Republic don’t even know your name. Of course, I can change that. One word from me, and you won’t be able to fly within ten light-years of a Republic planet.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve made your point,” Ferrier growled. “What’s the deal you‘re offering?”

Lando smiled again, even wider this time. “You ever been the shipyards at Ord Trasi?”

It took Ferrier a minute to get it. “Sure, lots of times,” he started. “We did a delivery there a couple weeks back—” His voice broke off as it suddenly clicked. “Wait a minute. No. No. You can’t be serious. You can’t be planning to palm a ship from an Imperial shipyard?”

“Can it be done?” Lando asked.

“Oh, sure, if you don’t mind spending ten years in a penal colony,” Ferrier snapped. “No way, Calrissian, forget it. I’m not interested.”

“Why not?” Lando pressed. “I hear you just swiped three Sienar patrol ships from the Cavrilhu pirates a couple weeks ago, and I saw your work at Sluis Van. What’s so different about the Imperial side?”

“You clearly aren’t a spaceship thief,” Ferrier said with the air of professional pride. He started ticking off items on his fingers. “Security protocols, base patrols. Plus most ships are too big for one team to grab. A Carrack cruiser alone requires a crew of, what, a thousand?”

“We’ll be grabbing something a lot bigger than a Carrack cruiser,” Lando told him. “Don't worry, the way this thing is slave-rigged, it won't take more than a handful of people to get it out of the docks and into hyperspace.”

Ferrier looked at him like he’d just turned into an Ewok. “Space slugs!” he cursed, the last piece falling into place. “You’re going to grab one of Thrawn’s Katana Dreadnaughts, aren’t you? I don‘t believe it!”

Lando shrugged. There wasn’t any point in denying it. “And what if we are? Would that be any harder than grabbing a patrol ship?”

Ferrier scoffed and sat there silently.

Lando took a breath. “Look,” he tried one last time. “I’ll be honest. I don’t want you along. Frankly, I don’t trust you. But some people in the High Command think you’re the best person for the job. And they think you owe them. That guy you grabbed on the Coral Vanda? That guy worked with Garm Bel Iblis. And Bel Iblis wasn’t too happy about that. You’ve heard of him, haven’t you?”

“Of course I have,” Ferrier growled.

“Good,” Lando said, leaning back. “Then you can say hello.”

He flicked a switch on his chair, and the full lights to the cabin came up. “Hello, Captain Ferrier,” Bel Iblis said from where he’d been standing in the doorway. “I’m General Bel Iblis. No, don’t get up,” he urged as Ferrier started to rise. He indicated to Irenez, standing just behind him with a hand resting on her trademark DL-18 blaster. “I’m afraid my associate sometimes gets a little overprotective, if you know what I mean.”

“Certainly, General,” Ferrier swallowed, dropping slowly back into his seat.

“That’s better,” Be Iblis said, coming around to face them. “So,” he continued, glancing at the wraith before focusing back on Ferrier, “you’ve heard what Calrissian’s offering. What do you say?”

“Well, you see, General…” Ferrier started, a line of perspiration beginning to form on his forehead. “What I mean to say is…you have to understand, with that whole Katana thing, Thrawn was threatening to blow up my ship if we didn’t deliver—”

“I’m not concerned about the past, Captain,” Bel Iblis interrupted. “What I want to know is, how are you going to make it up to us?”

Ferrier sputtered one last time; then let out a great sigh and slumped his shoulders. “All right,” he said, talking down to the floor. “All right. What is it you’re offering, exactly?”

“A full pardon,” Bel Iblis said. “All outstanding charges against you will be dropped. And against your crew, as well,” he added, looking at the wraith again. “Of course, any new crimes committed after the operation will be excluded from this pardon.”

“Of course,” Ferrier agreed neutrally. “And in exchange?”

“You deliver us one of the Katana Dreadnaughts,” Lando said. “I don’t think that’ll be too difficult for a thief of your reputation.”

Ferrier sighed again. “I should have shot you when I had the chance, Calrissian,” he said; but there wasn’t any menace behind it. “Okay, you have a deal.”

“Very good,” Bel Iblis smiled. “Oh, one more thing. My associate Irenez will be going with you. Just in case you get cold feet during the operation.”

“The more, the merrier,” Ferrier grumbled.

“I’m going, too,” Lando spoke up. Bel Iblis glanced back at him. “I told you, General, I don’t trust him. I don’t like leaving Irenez alone with him.”

“Oh, I don‘t think we need to worry about anything like that,” Irenez said, laying a hand on Ferrier’s shoulder. “The Captain here is going to be fully cooperative. Isn’t that right, Captain Ferrier?”

“Who wouldn’t be, with a blaster pointed at his head?” Ferrier asked, dropping his gaze down to Irenez’s hip. He turned back to Bel Iblis. “So when do we get started?”

“Right now,” Bel Iblis said. “We’ll round up the rest of your crew and then grab a flight to my ship. We’ll make more detailed plans once we’re there.”

“Fantastic,” Ferrier smiled thinly. “Before we go any further, Calrissian,” he added softly, “I want you to know I won’t forget this.”

“You’re welcome,” Lando said, standing up and waving a hand towards the doorway. “Shall we get to it?”