Corellian Trilogy_ Ambush At Corellia Part 13

dataport and don't give me any more nonsense. As I was about to say, if I am right-which is not so rare an occurrence, thank you very much-we might well need all the evidence we can find to convince Captain Calrissian of the situation. Hurry! Hurry!"

Luke Skywalker walked along beside his friend, enjoying the pleasant morning-but also starting to realize that something was not quite right. His Jedi senses were trying to tell him something, but he was not quite sure what.

Luke glanced up and down the quiet street. There were fewer houses out this way, and they were larger and grander than the ones in the center of town. There were only a few pa.s.sersby on the sidewalk, and they merely glanced over at the pair of strangers with the mildest of curiosity. No threat from that quarter, clearly enough.

And yet there was something. Luke realized that his hand had drifted toward the handle of his lightsaber. He was more spooked than he realized. He glanced over at Lando, but it was obvious that his friend was quite unconcerned. Plainly there was nothing on his mind more stressful than his usual cheerfully larcenous schemes. So what was it?

For a half a moment he considered the possibility of grabbing Lando by the arm and urging him to turn back. But no. Even a Jedi Master needed more than a vague notion of something not quite right.

* * * The two droids finally found a public city dataport in an obscure corner of the main terminal building of the s.p.a.ceport. "Plug in!

Plug in!" Threepio cried, urging on Artoo.

"Everything, everything you can find on Karia Ver Seryan.

I only hope I'm wrong-" Artoo beeped and blurped rapidly in a high register.

"What do you mean, why should this time be different?" he demanded, swatting Artoo on the dome. "Plug into the Lando and Luke managed to time their walk rather well, getting to Karia Ver Seryan's house just a minute or two before the appointed time.

Her house was hard to miss in that quiet, tree-lined street.

It was, by far, the largest in the neighborhood. Nearly all the other homes were made out of a sort of dark yellow brick, with here or there one built from bluish-gray wood.

But Ver Seryan's house was built of well-mortared dark gray stone.

It was five stories tall, although all the other nearby buildings were two or three stories at most. It stood on a piece of land at least four times as large as any of the other houses. The grounds were surrounded by a high fence made up of elaborately decorated black iron bars, set into the ground, twelve centimeters apart. It looked more like a fortress than a home.

Luke noticed that the houses on either side of Ver Seryan's house were empty and abandoned, their grounds overgrown with brambles, in stark contrast to the elaborate gardens and private menageries on display everywhere else.

At first glance, the gardens surrounding Ver Seryan's house seemed a tribute to ostentation for its own sake. There were paths and stone seats, and exotic plants from a dozen foreign worlds. A decorative artificial stream completely circled the house, no doubt set in motion by some sort of pumping system. A path led from the front gate over a diminutive footbridge to the front door.

There was a widening in the brook on the right side of the house, and in the middle of it stood a complicated threetiered fountain. Its jets of water played high into the air in an intricate and ever-s.h.i.+fting pattern. However, despite the distraction of the fountain, it did not escape Luke's attention that, if the bridge were raised, as it seemed it could be, the decorative ciscular brook would stand in good service as a moat.

And there, in the middle of all the elaborate landscaping, was the house itself, and the house seemed to have nothing in common with its own grounds. There was nothing pretty or ornamental about it. It was built to be big and strong, and that was that. Despite the attempt to disguise the fact with fancy plants and whimsical fountains, it was plain to see Ver Seryan's house was a fortress, designed to keep people out.

Luke looked up at the place, feeling even less happy about the circ.u.mstances. What sort of woman needed a home that could protect her against a mob? It was plainly a mob that the owner of this house was worried about.

Moats and iron fences were not the sort of precautions that would hold back a determined burglar, or an organized a.s.sault with modern weapons. No. It was the sort of setup designed to slow down and discourage a crowd in an ugly mood, and hold a disorganized, emotional mob at bay.

Nor was there any way Luke could tell himself that it was all decorative, some sort of holdover from an architectural tradition. The proof was there, in front of his eyes, on the wall of the house, just to the right of the door. There was some sort of creeping plant growing up over them, but it would take more than a few leaves and tendrils to hide blaster burns that big.

"Looks like she's pretty well off," Lando said.

Luke was about to say something, but thought better of it. There was just too much of a difference between his viewpoint and Lando's.

Where Luke saw a defense system, Lando saw evidence of cash flow. Who was to say which of them was right? Maybe everything Luke had noticed involved the previous owner, or some spot of bother brought on by the war against the Empire.

But he could not convince himself. Something was not right. Luke reached out with the Force and tried to get a sense of the place, a feel for the mood of the people. Now the feeling that had bothered him before came back, clearer and more intensely. Luke could feel the way it centered around this point, this house.

Now that he knew what to look for, he sought out the minds of whatever people his Force sense could locate in the general vicinity of Ver Seryan's house.

Every mind he could find held at least some trace of the feeling.

It was not uppermost in their thoughts, but it was there, and it got stronger the closer people were to the house.

Not hatred, or anger. It was a muted, subtle kind of fear, something closer to the state of mind of someone trying to avoid touching a plant with thorns, someone aware they were sitting a trifle too close to a campfire, someone wary of getting any closer to a potential dangerous animal. In the back of every mind there was the sense that it was unwise to get too close to the house of Karia Ver Seryan.

Luke refocused his Force sense in a new direction, and got another surprise. He could sense only one sentient living mind in the house. It had to be Ver Seryan. But it was abundanfly clear from the first brush with her mind that there was nothing malevolent there. She did not regard herself as dangerous, but as quite the opposite. In her he sensed an almost cloying benevolence, someone almost overeager to do good for anyone and everyone, whether they liked it or not. There was more than a whisper of greed in her mind as well, but nothing that could account for the cautious, careful, fear that surrounded her. If that degree of greed was all it took to inspire fear, Lando should have caused a worldwide panic the moment he set foot on the planet.

Still, it was a truism that no person ever regards himself or herself as evil. Even the emperor believed himself to be in the right, even as he crushed the Old Republic and established his tyranny throughout the galaxy. Just because Ver Seryan regarded herself as good, it did not mean she was. But even so, something here did not fit.

"Come on, Luke," said Lando, breaking into his thoughts. "You going to spend the whole day staring at her house? I don't want to keep the lady waiting."

Luke put his hand on his friend's arm. "Lando," he said. "Be careful, all right?"

"In a negotiation? What else have I ever been? Come on.

Lando pushed on the gate and it swung open. He led the way into the grounds of the house, and Luke followed a step or two behind and more than a little reluctantly.

The two of them went up the path, crossed the little bridge, and went up the stairs to the solid-looking steel doors of the house. Lando waited for Luke to catch up and pressed the annunciator disk as soon as Luke joined him.

After a delay brief enough that Luke a.s.sumed they had been watched from inside the house, the door swung open to reveal a strikingly lovely young woman. Luke was about to ask if Ver Seryan was at home when he recalled that he had only sensed one human being in the house. This had to be her-though this woman was nothing like he'd expected.

"Welcome to you both," the woman said. "I am Karia Ver Seryan.

Welcome to you, Lando Calrissian. I received your communication and am eager to speak further with you. We may well be able to come to an arrangement of mutual interest." She turned to Luke. "And of course, welcome to you, most high Jedi Master. Your exploits are legend, and it is the greatest of honors to welcome you into my humble abode. Please, gentles both, do come in."

Lando winked at Luke when Van Seryan was not looking.

Obviously, it was Luke's reputation that had opened this door.

Lando lost no further time in stepping through it, with Luke following behind.

Luke was not quite sure what he had expected of the interior, but it was certainly not what he saw. The dark solidity of the exterior was nowhere in evidence. Inside, all was softness and light. The interior walls were white stone, and they were decorated with elaborate and costly hangings and paintings from across the galaxy. The ground floor seemed to be one vast room. A grand staircase led UP the back wall from left to right, the line of stairs broken by landings a third and two thirds of the way up. Doorways led out of each landing, presumably to living quarters.

Folding screens and freestanding shelves and display cases broke the s.p.a.ce up into a number of cozy-looking sitting areas. Comfortable-looking couches and chairs and luxurious carpets were arranged invitingly. It looked to be the sort of room made for a splendid paity, not for sheltering one lone woman.

But if the room was unexpected, it was far less so than their hostess. Working from the scanty information Lando had been able to gather, Luke had been imagining Karia Ver Seryan as a frumpy, indolent sort of woman who had married for money, and then let herself go completely once her husband was safely dead. From the way Lando had spoken, it was clear that he had expected much the same.

But the reality of Karia Ver Seryan could not have been further from that image. She was tall, slender, and darkskinned, with eyes of the most startling deep violet. Her hair was the color of late sunset, and she moved with a remarkably artless grace. She was dressed in a simple, elegant, black dress of modest cut that did more to accentuate her figure than any more revealing dress could have possibly done, and a single large diamond hung around her neck on a platinum chain. One look at Lando, and it was obvious that the size of bankroll he would take to get him to marry her had just shrunk rather precipitously.

"Your home is lovely," he said, "but not remotely as lovely as its owner."

Ver Seryan smiled prettily and gave a very slight bow of acknowledgment. "Thank you, kind sir. It is difficult for me to hire servants, as you might imagine. I will not disguise from you the problems of maintaining my home with nothing but droid labor. I do freely admit that I would be most happy to have a man about the place-to serve as a handyman, if nothing else."

"I can a.s.sure you that I would be most interested in the position,"

said Lando, in a tone of voice that left no doubt of his sincerity.

"Come," she said. "Do sit yourselves down, and make yourself as you would be at home.

Lando grinned so broadly it seemed as if he was about to sprain a few muscles. He stepped forward, took Ver Seryan's hand in his, and bent low to kiss it. "I will gladly come and sit," he said, "but I a.s.sure you that I could not make myself any more at home than I am at this moment."

* * * "Oh, my!" Threepio cried out as they swerved to avoid a slower-moving ground car. "Friend driver, please do be careful!"

"Careful or fast, take your choice," the driver growled, without looking back, and pressed his foot down harder on the accelerator Artoo and Threepio sat in the back of a speeding hovercar, rus.h.i.+ng for Ver Seryan's home. Artoo seemed to be taking it all in stride, perhaps even enjoying the ride, but Threepio had found the whole affair most upsetting already.

He felt certain that his circuits were already overheating from the stress.

There are some s.p.a.ceports where it is merely difficult for a droid to hire a hover car, and others where it is all but impossible. Leria Kersil's s.p.a.ceport, unfortunately, fell into the second category. The automated cabs flatly refused them, their programming refusing to take orders from mere machines. That had left the droids with no other option but to try their luck with the human-operated cabs.

Even that would have been absolutely out of the question if Artoo had not been carrying a modest supply of Coruscant credits in one of his concealed compartments. Master Luke had put the money there some years ago, against just the sort of emergency they now faced.

But even with ready cash in hand, it had been difficult to find a driver willing to drive droids around the city. The only one they did find, the disreputable-looking fellow who was now breaking every traffic law in the city, had seemed to make some sort of mental estimate of the market value of their desperation, and then demanded an astronomical price.

Threepio, well versed in the art of haggling, had attempted to talk the man's price down, but Artoo had spoiled everything, as usual. He had deliberately rammed himself into Threepio's leg in order to silence him.

Then Artoo had simply offered all of the cash they had to the driver.

Granted, it had worked, and they were in a hurry, but even so, there were times when Artoo's overbearing ways were most provoking.

The cab veered hard to the left as the driver took a corner at speed. Threepio just managed to hold on for dear life.

Artoo, propped up next to him on the backseat, toppled over again, and immediately bleeped and blooped for Threepio to help him up. "I should let you stay down there this time," Threepio said, rather petulantly, even as he helped Artoo up. "You've been even more insufferable than usual this time out."

The driver took another curve rather violently, but this time Artoo kept his balance. He let out a triumphant burble and extended a work clamp to brace himself into one corner of the seat.

"Oh dear!" said Threepio. "I only hope we're in time after all this. According to my information, the process is quite irrevocable."

Lando Calrissian could not have been happier. He should have thought of this getting-married business years ago.

Here he was, first try out of the box and, as best as he could tell, well on his way to a very satisfactory arrangement.

Even after only a few minutes of small talk he was sure of that.

Karia and he were getting along wonderfully. She was not only rich, she was young, charming, and beautiful.

Clearly, there had been some errors in his information, but expecting an old battle-ax and discovering a young G.o.ddess was the sort of mistake he could deal with.

Luke was the only fly in the ointment. He was being polite enough, but not exactly charming. He seemed distracted, distant. If they had been sitting around a table, he would have kicked Luke in the s.h.i.+n and tried to snap him out of it. As it was, Lando, Karia, and Luke were seated facing each other in three extremely comfortable armchairs, the fantastically luxuriant rug under their feet would be enough to buy and sell Dometown three times over, and Karia was giving him a smile that would have melted the door of any bank vault. Some bit of Lando's hindbrain was delivering a line of charming small talk on automatic pilot, letting Lando relax and admire Karia without having to worry too much. All else was right with the world. He could tolerate Luke being a bit out of it.

But, it would seem, Karia had something on her mind.

She smiled appreciatively at whatever charming compliment had just come out of his mouth, but then she leaned forward on the arm of her chair, and her face took on a more earnest expression. "I am glad of all this pleasant talk," she said, "but the folk who come to me ofttimes have but little time to spare. I find that I prefer coming to the point most quickly.

Would that be suitable to you?"

Lando smiled, just a trifle uncertainly, and nodded. "Absolutely."

"That is good," said Karia. "It is plain that you have made inquiries concerning me, else you would not have come. Is there anything that you must know now that you do not? Have you any questions?"

Lando spoke again, a bit more puzzled this time, but still determined to play the gallant suitor. "There is, ah, much about you that I would know, and hope I will come to know, but nothing that I must know immediately."

"Excellent," she said. "I shall conceal nothing. When I received the first communication from yourself, I made inquiries of my own. I must needs confess that, in normal times, I would not consider your suit.

But times are not as they often are. Although my time of rest is over, my life with my previous husband was-taxing. I am not as refreshed as I might wish. Though your wealth is not as great as it might be, nonetheless it is substantial, and growing. I am impressed by your work on Dometown. I believe that given sufficient backing, you could accomplish much in a short s.p.a.ce of yours. On your honor, do you think likewise?"

"I do indeed," Lando said, as fervently as he could.

"Yes," said Karia. "I see that you do. You are young still, and energetic. One thing I have not been able to learn from my investigations-it would seem that you are in quite good health. Is this the case?"

"Why, yes-yes, of course," Lando said, clearly taken aback. "Lots of good years left in me." Karia leaned back in her chair. "And yet you are here.

Most interesting. Not unheard of, and yet most interesting.

There is the saying that the candle that burns shortest burns brightest. There are those who would disapprove, but none come here except by free choice. You realize that the process, the marriage, is quite irrevocable? It is quite impossible to turn back?"

Lando was very definitely starting to feel that he was in over his head. "I, ah, wasn't contemplating the idea of marrying you and then divorcing in bopes of a settlement, if that is what you mean. When I marry, I intend to stay married." Karia grinned and laughed. "There would be no hope of a settlement in any event, of course, so that is to the good."

Apparently she had a great deal of confidence in her lawyers. That was definitely a point to bear in mind. "No, no," Lando said. "Until death do us part, and all that."

Karia's face became serious once again. "And all that," she echoed. She looked Lando hard in the face for a long moment, clearly trying to reach a decision. "I like you," she said. "Even if you are young, and healthy, I like you.

Life is for taking risks, and I am for life. Your wealth is not great now, but it may well become so. I will have you, if you will have me.

Luke sat forward in his chair, and looked from Lando to Karia.

"That's awfully quick," he said. "Do you truly wish to make such a decision so quickly?"

"As I have said, those who come to me rarely have much time to spend in hesitation." She smiled, and spoke again.

"Perhaps, just this once, I would wish for myself the luxury of setting the pace myself." She turned back to Lando.

"What say you, gentle sir? Will you? Or will you not?"

"Well, I, ah-any man would be honored to accept you, my dear Lady Karia. But surely we must agree to terms before we complete the-ah-marriage agreement."

"Well and wisely put, gentle sir," she said. "I spoke too quickly.

Let me present the offer i would give you.

Marry me, and live with me. I will fully Support you in all ways for five years, longer than is normal."