Jaxxon couldn’t believe his ears. Lectured by Lando Calrissian of all people. Lando, who would sell his best friend if he thought he could make a quick credit. Lando, who had practically written the book on cheating at sabacc. Lando, who had broken enough hearts to fill the Typhonic Nebula.
“Now, listen here—” he said, ready to tear the smug rukk-wrangler a new docking ring.
“The matter is closed,” Lando cut in, walking over to a cape rack and choosing a cape the color of a Narragader sky. “And as for you, Mr. Manakor,” he added, turning back to the Troglof in the chair. “Please don’t worry, you can rely on me. Just get your…consignment to Platform One Forty-Three. My people will handle the rest.”
The comlink buzzed again, and Lando shut it off, drawing Jaxxon’s eyes back down to the desk. That’s when he saw the case hidden behind the desk, a case brimming with aurodium ingots, enough to set up the business and still leave change for a lifetime’s supply of dewback burgers. But there was no time to argue. Lando was around the desk and propelling Jaxxon out of the office before he could say anything, Corovene Manakor plopping down from the seat and scurrying after them.
“Thanks for nothing, pal,” Jax grunted as he yanked his arm free to grab the cape that Lobot had left folded in the reception area. It was going to be a long walk back to the Rabbit, especially in these shukking boots.
“Jaxxon, listen…,” Lando said when they were out in the corridor, Corovene rushing off with barely another word. “I’m sorry, okay? You just…you just caught me at a bad time. Those things I said…”
“Forget about it,” Jaxxon snapped, fighting the urge to introduce the sole of his foot to Lando’s immaculate teeth. “I’ll see ya around, yeah?”
In days gone by, Jaxxon would have tried his damndest to hit Lando where it hurt, asking how the Falcon was doing or, if he really wanted to twist the vibroknife, dropping L3’s name into conversation, but what was the point? Lando didn’t care. He’d made that abundantly clear.
So Jaxxon loped off, ready to flatten anyone who got in his way.
The trouble with being a Lepi, other than the crippling self-doubt and the assumption that you’ll screw up sooner or later, is that even when you want to shut yourself off from the universe, you can’t help but hear what everyone else is saying. It was those damn ears. Plus, Jaxxon was an inquisitive kind of fella. Just because he wanted to feed Lando’s head into a burrow-grinder, it didn’t mean that he didn’t want to know what the smarmy varp farmer was muttering into the flashy comlink on his wrist.
“Yeah, I’m on my way to the princess’s quarters,” Jaxxon overheard, “and then I’ll bring them to the Rinetta dining room. I just need to make sure that arrangements for the Manakor delivery are coming together. Corovene’s people have always been good to me.”
Realization hit Jaxxon like a charging mudhorn. Manakor. The rumors about the heist on Scipio. No wonder Lando had a caseful of rare ingots. He was arranging a delivery for one of the biggest heists in the history of the IBC. And he had the nerve to call Jaxxon a crook. The lousy, stinking hypocrite.
Jaxxon threw his cape back around his narrow shoulders. Lando’s little meet-and-greet suddenly seemed even more appealing, especially now he knew there would be royalty present. He wondered if Lando would like the-great-and-the-good to know that Cloud City’s beloved baron administrator was back in the smuggling game? Jaxxon was willing to bet his buckteeth that the answer was no…and when there were secrets, there was an opportunity for blackmail. It was an ugly word, but one Jaxxon was always prepared to use. He was determined to go legit, even if he had to extort the funds to do it.
Smoothing down his cloak, he politely stopped an astromech that was whirring past. “Excuse me, bud, but can ya tell me where I can find the Rinetta dining room?”
* * *
—
Jaxxon had run through his pitch at least a dozen times by the time he’d reached the dining room’s impressive doors. He paused, checking his breath and smoothing his whiskers. He could do this, of course he could; especially if Lando hadn’t made it back from whatever royal floozie he was courting. Jax would woo the room and then watch Lando squirm in his Liwari heels when he finally deigned to show his face. Fixing his most winning smile on his face, Jaxxon T. Tumperakki stepped forward into his destiny.
It turned out his destiny wasn’t quite as exciting as he had expected. In fact, it was downright terrifying. The doors of the dining room whooshed open to reveal an exquisite salon complete with Socorran artwork on the walls and heavily armed stormtroopers in front of the circular windows. Then there was the figure that sat at the other end of the immaculately laid table, a figure dressed head-to-toe in black, eyes hidden behind impassive ruby lenses and breath rasping through a mechanical respirator.
Jaxxon stared at Darth Vader and Darth Vader stared back.
Darth kriffin’ Vader.
“Sorry,” Jaxxon squeaked, his voice jumping at least seventeen octaves. “Wrong room. I thought this was the vac tube. My mistake. Gotta run.”
If Jaxxon didn’t need the vac tube before he stepped into the dining room, he sure as hell needed one now. He leapt back out into the corridor, slamming the door control before the stormtroopers could react. Racing down the passageway, weaving in and out of the milling crowds, he had no idea if he was being followed, but didn’t want to check.
If this was what it was like being legitimate, Jaxxon didn’t want to know. And to think he’d actually wanted to be like Calrissian. The Calrissian he’d admired. The Calrissian who’d pulled himself out of the mire.
The Calrissian who had dinner parties with the Emperor’s Fist.
Eventually, Jaxxon’s curiosity got the better of him and he glanced behind, spotting white helmets bobbing after him. Yup, they were coming his way, gaining fast. He knew leaving his blasters on the Rabbit had been a mistake. Hell, coming to Cloud City had been a mistake, especially as he realized he had no idea where he was or how to get back to his ship. How had he gotten so lost?
“Excuse me,” he said, stopping a passing Ugnaught technician wearing a long tunic. “Which way to Platform Nine Ninety-Seven?”
The pig-faced alien looked at him as if he’d just crawled out of a moof paddock. “Don’t you know?”
“Well, if I knew I wouldn’t be asking!”
The Ugnaught grunted, shaking his head and turning to carry on about his business. “Three levels up,” he muttered over his shoulder. “You can’t miss it.”
Jaxxon grabbed his arm, keeping his ears pressed down over the back of his head so the stormtroopers couldn’t see him in the crowd. “That’s great, but how would someone get up there if they were in a hurry? Is there a turbolift nearby?”
The technician tutted, yanking his arm free and smoothing down his sleeve. “What do I look like: tourist information?” Then he relented, his porcine nostrils flaring. “Take a right and then a left and you’ll find it just past the Paradise Atrium.”
Jaxxon was already running. “Just past the Atrium. Got it. You’re a pal.”
The Ugnaught also turned out to be terrible with directions. Jaxxon turned right and then turned left, finding the Atrium, but no turbolift to be seen.
“Hey you,” a stormtrooper said from somewhere behind. “Stop.”
“No chance,” Jaxxon said, vaulting over a table and charging across the Atrium, the troopers barging past a serving droid carrying a tray of kibi strips. Diving behind a vending machine, Jaxxon ducked into a doorway to find himself in a stairwell. The door slid shut and Jaxxon bounded up the steps three at a time, listening out all the while to hear if the stormtroopers were still on his tail. The door remained closed. The stupid bucketbrains had missed it completely. Finally, Lady Luck was on his side.
Yeah, like that would ever happen. Jaxxon cried out as his cape wrapped around his legs, sending him tumbling back dow
n the stairs. He bounced once, cracking his head on the second impact, and was unconscious before he reached the bottom.
* * *
—
Jaxxon woke to the sound of a klaxon blaring down the stairwell. Seriously? Did the kriffing thing need to be so loud?
A familiar voice crackled over speakers hidden somewhere above Jaxxon’s aching head: “Attention. This is Lando Calrissian. Attention. The Empire has taken control of the city. I advise everyone to leave before more Imperial troops arrive.”
Jaxxon leapt to his feet. Taken control? Well, that was just typical. You invite them for dinner and they end up annexing your station. Still, it couldn’t have happened to a nicer fella where Calrissian was concerned.
Running up the stairs that had threatened to brain him, Jaxxon barreled out into a corridor, trying to ignore the continued pounding in his skull. He hadn’t felt this bad since he had challenged Black Krrsantan to a drinking game on Mitek-Por. He still had a way to go to the Rabbit, but at least he finally recognized where he was. All he’d have to do was cut down this passageway, passing Lando’s office, and…
Lando’s office! A grin spread across Jaxxon’s face. Maybe he’d come out of this with an investment after all.
He bolted down the corridor, avoiding the panicked throng who seemed to be running in every direction at once, their consternation heightened by the distant and yet all-too-recognizable sound of blasterfire. He dived inside the office, half expecting to run into Lobot. The reception room was empty, but the doors to Lando’s inner sanctum were locked. Luckily Jaxxon knew the best way to bypass the lock. Who needed a vibropick when you could throw an over-stylish caf table through the frosted glass? His deed of highly satisfying vandalism done, Jaxxon squeezed through the gap, almost crying out in joy when he found Lando’s case still behind the desk.
“Nice doing business with ya, pal,” Jaxxon said with a grin, snatching up the case and making his exit. He raced toward the landing platform, hugging the precious cargo to his chest and planning the ways he would spend his ill-gotten gains. A complete overhaul for the Rabbit was a necessity, not to mention a memory upgrade for Mel. Then would come the haulage fleet, a luxury burrow on Glee Anselm, and an entire dewback farm for the best barbecues this side of Valo. This was it. The moment when everything changed. He just needed to make it to the ship in one piece.
There was just one problem with that. Jaxxon slid around the corner to the platform to come face-to-faceplate with a squadron of stormtroopers wiping the floor with the Bespin Wing Guard.
“Get back,” the guard-captain yelled at him before a laser bolt slammed into the guy’s chest, killing him instantly. Jaxxon leapt forward, dropping into a roll and snatching up the dead man’s blaster. He came up firing, hitting one of the stormtroopers in the pauldron. It wasn’t his fight, but the troopers were in his way. The final guard fell, and Jaxxon was on his own with a trio of angry stormtroopers to contend with. He dived around the corner, looking around for cover. There was a door straight ahead. Maybe he could find a way to double back, avoiding the bucketheads completely. It was worth a shot. He sprinted forward, firing over his shoulder while clutching the case of ingots under his other arm. The blaster’s battery died the moment he reached the door and he threw himself forward, landing awkwardly on the other side of the threshold, only to find that he’d trapped himself in a maintenance closet. The stormtroopers approached, still firing, and Jaxxon drop-kicked the useless weapon at the door control, sealing himself inside. He was safe, but that door wouldn’t last long, especially with a squad of the Emperor’s finest using it for target practice. He looked around, seeing nothing but janitorial products and a hovercart, neither of which would be much use against a death squad.
In frustration, he kicked a dormant mouse droid at the wall, knocking over a stack of mops. They clattered to the floor, and Jaxxon’s jaw dropped as he saw the tiny figure that had been hiding behind the cleaning implements.
“Corovene?”
The Troglof looked up at him, his small eyes wide with terror.
“Please…can you help us?”
That was when Jaxxon saw the others, huddled behind an industrial-sized bottle of disinfectant. Another Troglof, a female this time, was visibly quaking, her tentacles wrapped around two minuscule infants.
“Is this…your family?” Jaxxon asked, dropping down on one knee in front of them. Outside, the stormtroopers had stopped firing indiscriminately and had decided to take a cutting torch to the door instead.
“We were trying to get to Platform One Forty-Three, as Lando said we should,” Corovene explained, his tiny voice wavering. “A Petrusian gunrunner had agreed to take us to Lysatra…” He glanced nervously at the torch slicing through the door. “Away from the Empire.”
“Wait? You’re the consignment? I thought you were shifting your cut of the heist?”
Corovene scoffed. “What? Yes, I was involved in the heist on Scipio, but only because I was promised funds to liberate Najiba from the Empire.”
“Najiba?”
“Our home planet. I helped the thieves bypass the security system as agreed, but once they had blown the vault…”
“They left you to carry the can.” He held the stolen case closer to him. “Sheesh. You just can’t trust anyone these days.”
“I’ve been such a fool.”
Jaxxon tried to hide the case behind his back. “So the ingots…”
“What ingots?”
“In Lando’s office…”
“Oh, they’re not mine. I think Lando was using them to pay for our transport.”
“He was? Why? What did Mr. Look at My Facial Hair Isn’t It Just Dandy get out of the deal?”
“Nothing. We told him our plight and he offered to help, whatever the cost.”
Suddenly the case seemed a lot heavier. Ripping Lando off had been a lot easier when he thought the guy had no scruples.
“How are we going to get out?” the female Troglof asked, the torch nearly down to the floor.
“We? Sorry lady, but it’s every Lepi for himself.” He glanced down at the hovercart. “I’ve an idea to get past those goons but it’s a one-rabbit deal, I’m afraid.”
That’s when the Troglof children started crying and Jaxxon realized he was doomed.
* * *
—
Outside in the corridor, the stormtrooper finished slicing through the door. He stood back, ready to kick it down, not expecting the metal slab to burst toward him, flattening him to the ground. The hovercart roared up the makeshift ramp, launching itself into the air before the other troopers could react. They turned and fired, but Jaxxon was already zooming toward the landing platform, one hand gripping the cart’s rail, the other gripping the case, his cape clasped in his teeth.
“See you later, suckers,” he yelled as they raised their blasters, his suddenly released cape billowing out like a parachute to block their line of sight. It didn’t stop them firing, the bolts punching through the thin material, but by then Jaxxon was halfway to the Rabbit’s Foot.
“Mel!” Jaxxon yelled into the comlink he’d unhooked from his belt. “You better be listening to this, you dumb bucket-of-bolts. Get the ramp down and prime the engines. We need to skedaddle.”
A series of gruff beeps sounded over the comm, the ramp whining as it started to descend. Maybe the ancient droid wasn’t so bad. Bolts sizzled past Jaxxon’s head, the stormtroopers once more in pursuit. Predictably, one found its target, reducing the cart to a ball of blazing scrap, but Jaxxon had already leapt from the speeding trolley, bounding onto the boarding ramp with a jump that would have given the Jedi of old a run for their money.
Maybe there were a few things a Lepi could do that were better than anyone else.
Jaxxon raced from the cargo bay, ignoring Mel’s concerned beeps as he deposited the case next to the vacant nav
igator’s seat. The Rabbit’s Foot launched into the air as he gunned the engines, enveloping the stormtroopers in a thick cloud of engine smoke that Jaxxon hoped smelled as bad as it looked.
Shoot your way through that, Jaxxon thought as he thundered out of Bespin’s atmosphere and blasted into hyperspace.
Away and safe, Jaxxon slumped back in his chair and exhaled in relief, the blue light of the hypertunnel bathing the Rabbit’s cockpit as the ship rattled and groaned.
ML-08 trundled closer, blooping a question.
“Did I get the investment?” Jaxxon repeated. “What do you think?”
He reached down and flicked the clasp of the case he had stolen from Lando’s office. The droid peered inside and saw four shaken Troglofs looking back up at him.
“Did we get away?” Corovene asked as Jaxxon gently tipped the case over so they could crawl out onto the Rabbit’s filthy deck plates.
“Well, we’re not space dust, if that’s what you mean?” He leaned across to the navicomputer, punching coordinates into the system. “Now, where did you say you were going? Lysatra, wasn’t it?”
“You’ll take us there?” Corovene asked, eyes brimming with grateful tears. “But we have no way to repay you.”
Jaxxon glanced down at the Troglof mother hugging her children and thought of the small fortune in ingots that was scattered across a cleaning closet’s floor back on Cloud City.
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