Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 04_ Agents of Chaos 01_ Hero's Trial - James Luceno [52]
Bossk? Han wondered. Could it possibly be … “Ah, you must have been the cutest little egg at the time,” he goaded.
Conversation at surrounding tables was quieting, as patrons tried to determine if they should stay seated for the rest of the show or seek cover as quickly as possible.
“Among other dishonorable acts, this piece of human filth once interfered with a legitimate slaver operation on Gandolo IV.”
Roa shifted in his seat and spoke up. “What’s past is past, big guy. Or is it that you’re so short on hunter’s points you’ve got to disturb a couple of old friends sharing drinks?”
The Trandoshan glowered at Roa, then Han. “I don’t know this fat one, but I do know you—Han Solo.”
“Solo?” Fasgo said in astonishment.
Han held the Trandoshan’s gaze. It had to be Bossk. He could only hope that the E-11A1 the alien wore on his hip had been drained at customs.
“Tell me, Solo, are you still sticking your twisted beak in the business of others?”
Han smiled lopsidedly. “Only when there’s the chance of wrecking someone’s starship and humilating her captain while I’m at it.”
The Trandoshan straightened to his full and considerable height. “I heard you lost the Wookiee, Solo. Rumor has it you let a moon come crashing down on him. Which is just what I’d do if I had a Wookiee following me around.”
Much to the alien’s delight, Han had nearly come out of his seat when Roa threw an arm across his chest. “What’s the use, Han? They’ll only regenerate anything we break off them.”
The Trandoshan grinned malevolently. “But what’s one flea-bitten Wookiee or another,” he continued with elaborate casualness. “Why not just go out and get yourself another one?”
Han threw the punch that started it all.
TWELVE
“I spent time in a bacta tank during the jump to Coruscant,” Belindi Kalenda told the six members of the Security and Intelligence Council, by way of explaining why she looked better than she felt.
“Your efforts are beyond the call of duty, Colonel,” Diamalan Senator Porolo Miatamia said from the far end of the long wooden table, his leathery face radiating genuine concern. “You should have remained on Wayland. We could have arranged for a holoconference.”
Kalenda smiled faintly. “Wayland hardly has the technology for a holoconference, Senator.”
“Then let’s come to the point, shall we?” Senator Krall Praget said from the chair closest to Kalenda. Never one to mince words, Praget, representing Edatha, had sought to remove Leia Solo from office during the Yevethan crisis.
Between Praget and Miatamia sat senators Gron Marrab of Mon Calamari, Tolik Yar of Oolidi, Ab’el Bogen of Ralltiir, and Viqi Shesh of Kuat. Also present was Luke Skywalker, curiously silent and all but shrouded by his Jedi robe, and his saturnine teenage nephew, Anakin Solo.
Kalenda addressed them. “Thank you for coming, Master Skywalker and Jedi Solo.”
Skywalker offered a nod of acknowledgment and nothing more.
“To begin with,” Kalenda said, rising with obvious effort from her chair, “the enemy raid on Wayland justifies the precautions we took in moving the defectors there. The air strike inflicted significant damage to New Nystao, but fatalities were minimal—which wouldn’t have been the case had we relocated them to Bilbringi or some other more populous world.”
She took a pained breath. “One of the fatalities was Dr. Yintal of Fleet Intelligence, though he died as a result of injuries sustained in the direct attack on Elan—the Yuuzhan Vong priestess. Dr. Joi Eicroth of Alpha Blue also sustained injuries, but she is well on her way to a full recovery, as is Major Showolter, who suffered several broken ribs and a punctured lung. Our two Noghri agents were already back on their feet when I left Wayland.”
“Where are the defectors now?” Senator Shesh asked.
“They’ve been relocated