Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 06_ Vortex - Denning Troy [121]
“Booster, shall I acknowledge?”
Booster nodded. “I think we’d better, Saliah. These aren’t the kind of friends we want steamed at us.” This last part he added loudly enough for Dorvan to hear, just in case the bureaucrat didn’t already know who their real friends on the ground were. “Then tell Lando to start the tournament now, and have Eloa wire Senator Treen’s entry fee back to her.”
“On it,” Saliah confirmed.
No sooner had Booster returned to Dorvan’s side than the bureaucrat asked, “Does that mean you have a seat available?”
“I suppose it does,” Booster replied, still playing hard to get, “if you’ve got the entry fee.”
“Of course.” Dorvan pulled a certified bank voucher from inside his tunic and passed it over. “I know what you were thinking, Booster, but I assure you—I’m not in the habit of asking for bribes.”
Booster inspected the voucher. “A million credits,” he said, nodding. “That’s a big entry fee for a public servant.”
Dorvan nodded. “I told you, Booster. I know how to play sabacc.”
“I guess maybe you do,” Booster said, chuckling. He passed the voucher over to Lyari. “Let Lando know that Wynn will be taking Senator Treen’s seat, then have someone take him down to the tournament.”
“Sure.” Lyari spoke into her comlink, then looked back to Dorvan. “The tournament just started. By the time we get you down there, you’ll have missed the first dozen hands or so. It’s not too late to withdraw, if you find that objectionable.”
“You wouldn’t have my money if I did.” Dorvan turned to Booster, then asked, “May I ask, just who are these partners of yours?”
“You can ask.” Booster motioned for Lyari to get Dorvan off the bridge—then realized that maybe Dorvan’s unexpected arrival was no more than the lucky break it appeared to be, what his grandkids liked to call the will of the Force. He raised his hand to stop Lyari, then said, “Wynn, how about staying on the bridge for a bit? There’s something I want you to see.”
Dorvan scowled. “What about the tournament?”
“It’s a three-day tournament,” Lyari reminded him. “Do you think ten minutes at the beginning will make a difference?”
“And we’ll refund ten percent of your entry fee,” Booster added. “You won’t want to miss this, trust me.”
Dorvan sighed, then reached into his pocket and stroked something—probably the chitlik he was rumored to keep as a pet.
“Ten minutes,” he said. “After that, I want to be at the table.”
“Deal.” Booster made a scribbling motion, instructing Lyari to get a voucher, then turned to his Bith navigation officer. “Bring us about, Ratt. You know where we’re going.”
“Copy, Booster,” Ratt replied. “Setting a course for Orbital Mirror Baker Six Tango.”
“Good,” Booster said. “Marfen, bring batteries eight, ten, and twelve online.”
“Batteries eight, ten, and twelve charging and acquiring targets,” Marfen, the Brubb weapons officer, confirmed. “Ready to attack in twenty seconds.”
“Attack?” Dorvan must have been made of sterner stuff than he looked, for his voice was calm and his face empty of surprise. “A climate-control mirror?”
“Didn’t I say you wouldn’t want to miss this?” Booster replied. “Marfen, put the target on display.”
The blinding-bright image of a silver, double-paneled mirror appeared on the giant vid display at the front of the bridge. To Booster, it looked a little bit like a Chadra-Fan’s head, with a tiny round ball flanked by two squarish, oversized ears. He knew that each mirror was more than ten square kilometers in area, but that only made it more difficult for Booster to get a sense of scale.
“Orbital Control is demanding to know why we’re drifting out of assigned coordinates,” Saliah reported. “They’re threatening to fine us.”
This drew a hearty chuckle from the entire bridge crew.
“Then I guess we’d better get our money’s worth,” Booster said. “Fire at will, Marfen.”
“Copy that,” the Brubb replied. “Fi—”
The rest was