Star Wars_ The New Jedi Order 21_ The Unifying Force - James Luceno [234]
Again, his gaze swept around the circle. “As for the rest of you, I ask only that you give deep thought as to how you might best serve the Force.”
With the lifting of Sekot’s stricture regarding warships on Zonama’s surface, the western rim of the Middle Distance canyon had become a landing and launch zone. The Millennium Falcon was parked there, as was Jade Shadow, along with a few Sekotan fighters and the several shuttles that had carried the Jedi adults and children from Errant Venture.
Dressed in a black synfleece jacket, stylish trousers, a rakish cap, and fingerless gloves, Lando meandered with design among the ships, spotting Han at last, seated at a table with Talon, Booster, and Crev Bombassa, in an open-fronted shed built of Sekotan lamina. The three men were as bundled up as Lando was, and their amiable laughter rode out on shortlived breath clouds.
“Where is everybody?” Lando asked when he joined them. “This place is as quiet as a convention of Defels.”
“Big meeting in the boras,” Han said offhandedly.
Lando grinned and prized a bottle of expensive Corellian brandy from his coat pocket. “Perfect time for us to warm our bones. Besides, there’s just enough to go around.”
Han rubbed his bare hands together in anticipation. “Wasn’t I just saying that cantinas are in very short supply around here?”
Crev glanced around in wariness. “Maybe you should keep your voice low. You know, in case … someone’s listening?”
Booster tugged at his beard. “It is a little spooky, isn’t it?”
Talon gazed at the canyon and the distant tree line. “Now that you mention it.”
Lando put his hands on his hips and laughed. “I doubt that Sekot would begrudge us a toast or two.” From the jacket’s other pouch pocket, he extracted five tumblers. Lining them up on the table, he began to fill them with the aromatic amber liquid. “So what do you think Luke and the rest are talking about?”
“Same thing that’s on everyone’s mind,” Crev said with theatrical seriousness. “Han Solo.”
Han laughed with them, then raised his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
The glass was almost to his mouth when a male voice said, “Got enough for two party crashers?”
The five of them turned to see Wedge and Tycho hurrying toward them, sporting flight jackets and brimmed caps.
“With their customary sense of flawless timing,” Han muttered.
Reluctantly, Lando pulled two more tumblers from his pocket, filled them, and passed them down the table. “Anyone else is going to have to provide his own glass.”
“And brandy,” Crev said.
Talon shook his head and sighed. “I’ve yet to meet a military man who’s actually willing to pay for a drink.”
Tycho snorted. “I’ve never met one who has to pay.”
Wedge lifted his glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
They all took long sips, smacked their lips, and set the tumblers down.
“Anyway,” Tycho continued, “that’s ex-military, as of tomorrow.”
Han raised an eyebrow. “Skulking back into retirement, huh?”
Tycho shrugged. “It’s either that, or Winter leaves me.”
“She must have been talking with Iella,” Wedge said. “It’s a conspiracy.”
Han raised his glass again. “To last flings.”
They sipped, then fell silent for a moment. Wedge fingered the tumbler through a circle. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m ready for the simple life again. The Alliance will just have to make do with guys like Darklighter, Page, and Cracken.”
“Pity the Alliance,” Tycho said.
Han regarded the two of them and laughed. “The familiar strains of midlife.”
Tycho jerked his thumb at Han, without looking at him. “This from a guy who refuses to go quietly into the void.”
“Not true,” Han said. “It’s the Falcon