Star Wars_ Fate of the Jedi 08_ Ascension - Christie Golden [68]
“Han,” Leia said, gently but firmly. “The information is about the Chief.”
Han looked unhappy, but he sat down. Emala reached for a hubba chip and, annoyed, Han snatched the basket away, plopping it down in front of Allana.
“Hey!” Emala protested.
“Food wasn’t part of the deal, either,” Han growled.
Allana picked up a chip and ate it, still observing silently. She had the same rapt expression she wore when watching a favorite holoshow.
Leia sighed inwardly. “Let’s finish our chips and crackers and drinks, then take a walk along the river. We can talk then.”
Sligh’s ears—they were definitely larger than Leia remembered them—drooped slightly. “But we’ve come in a hurry, and we’re awfully hungry.”
“A hurry?” Han leaned forward. “Why? What’s timely about the information you have? And what kind of payment do you want?”
The Squibs had been deliberately vague about payment, among other things. Which was not out of the ordinary. All Han and Leia knew was they claimed to know where Daala was, they wanted to meet at the Riverview Café in Varlo, and they were confident that Han and Leia could meet their price.
“Well, lunch is a start,” Emala said. She beamed at Allana. “You’re a pretty little fuzzling, for a human. We can’t call you Amelia, so what would you like us to call you?”
“It’s her name,” Han said, exasperated.
Grees had a look of long-suffering patience. “We told you, it’s too close to Emala. And Emala’s had her name longer.”
Something clicked in Leia’s head about the statement, but she pushed it aside, anxious to get to the heart of the matter. “It won’t be a problem.”
“I’d like a Squib name,” Allana said unexpectedly.
The Squibs beamed and exchanged self-satisfied looks. “See? The fuzzling sees the potential for disaster,” said Emala. “How about Pika?”
“I’m partial to Veeshu,” said Grees.
“Nah, she’s more of a Muatisi,” put in Sligh, reaching for another cracker and dunking it vigorously. “Definitely a Muatisi.”
“Her name,” said Han, his voice unsettlingly calm, “is Amelia. You have information about the Chief. We want that information. We will pay and even buy you lunch if that’s what it takes to shake you vermin off.”
“Vermin!” gasped Sligh, his hand to his small chest, his eyes wide with hurt that might have been real but probably wasn’t. “How rude!”
Leia buried her face in her hands. She had, mercifully, forgotten just how irritating the Squibs could be. They seemed to have even more enthusiasm and energy than they had the last time she and Han had encountered them, although they were elderly for their species. In fact, they looked even better than she recalled. Some species had all the luck, it seemed.
“Let’s order lunch,” she said. “Perhaps this will go more smoothly when we’ve all had something to eat.”
Grees was glaring at Han, and Sligh’s whiskers were quivering while Emala patted him on the back gently. They all perked up when food was mentioned. The waitdroid returned and they placed their orders, along with a request for a second basket of hubba chips.
“You shouldn’t have called them vermin,” Allana said to her grandfather. “That wasn’t polite.”
“No,” Han said, taking an overly long pull at his ale. “It wasn’t.” Leia knew the apology was sincere, but Han’s voice was still gruff with annoyance.
“We knew you didn’t mean it,” Emala said kindly. “Partners sometimes get a little testy with one another.”
“I’m sure all your partners do,” Han said. Leia put a hand on his arm and squeezed.
“So,” she said. “Tell us about the Chief.”
“Oh, you’ll like this,” enthused Emala.
“But first, our terms,” said Grees. “We want you to take us back to Coruscant with you. Second, we’ll want enough credits to buy a ship and be comfortably supplied. Third, you let Jagged Fel know who helped him out, ’cause friends of good partners often make good partners themselves. And finally—lunch and all other meals are on you.”
It was not an inexpensive deal, and Leia fancied that they’d end up getting the worst of it. She wasn’t sure that what she