Return to Ord Mantell

9

Back in the diplomatic suite of Ord Mantell’s most luxurious hotel, the Ord Ambassador, Jacen could not get his mind off the girl Anja.

Her sad, pain-filled eyes had seemed so out of place. Her features were delicate and beautiful… and there had been such a strength in her whip-thin body that Jacen had expected her gaze to be as steady and cool as Tenel Ka’s. But her personal pain—perhaps even a slight madness—had been all too apparent in the looks she had given Jacen and his friends.

Zekk had felt it too, because Jacen had seen the older boy’s sympathetic nod when Anja spoke of her father’s death, and about having been raised as an orphan. Who would understand better than Zekk how such events could change a life?

But Jacen didn’t have Zekk to talk to right now. The former Dark Jedi had returned with Tenel Ka and Lowie to the Rock Dragon for the night.

Jacen sighed and ran his hands through his tousled curls. Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Anja? He paced restlessly about the central chamber of the suite. After the long day today, Jacen had taken a hot sonic shower, but his mind did not feel refreshed. Something was bothering him, and he couldn’t quite, put his finger on it. When his brother Anakin entered the room, hair still damp from his own shower, the younger boy’s ice-blue gaze stopped Jacen in his tracks.

“Something’s wrong,” Anakin said. A statement, not a question.

Startled, as always, that his younger brother could sense things so quickly, Jacen hunched his shoulders and plopped himself down on a stone repulsor bench beside the ornamental firepit in the center of the room.

Anakin perched himself on a bench opposite Jacen and stared into the flames. “She was a very interesting person, wasn’t she?” he said quietly, then waited for Jacen to answer.

Jacen glanced sharply at his little brother and stared at him for a full minute before the reason for his inner turmoil clicked into focus.

“Dad never really explained what happened to her father,” he finally blurted. “He just evaded her questions with vague answers.”

“Well, he said he didn’t kill Gallandro. What more do you want to know?” Jaina asked, gliding into the room and helping herself to a seat between her two brothers. She wore a loose robe, and droplets of moisture still sparkled on her cheeks from her recent bath.

Jacen set his chin stubbornly. “I want to know what happened.”

Anakin shrugged. “Then let’s ask Dad.”

“Ask me what?” Han said, entering the room, a white sheet of absorbent material draped around his neck so that it hung down his bare torso.

He took a seat opposite Jaina and between his two sons; the four Solo family members were like points of a compass, with the artificial fire at their center. Jacen glanced at his sister. She bit her lower lip.

Anakin gestured to him, as if to say, This is your question; ask it.

Jacen knew he might sound rude, but he wanted an answer and he didn’t know how else to put it. “Anja said you killed her father. You denied it, but you never explained what happened to Gallandro.”

Han nodded slowly. “That young lady took me by surprise. She reminded me of an incident from my past… a time I’m not too proud of.” Jacen wondered if guilt was the source of the hesitation he heard in his father’s voice.

“So, what happened?” Jaina prompted, her brandy-brown eyes alight now with interest.

“We were looking for an ancient treasure, a lost legacy of Xim the Despot,” Han began. He paused, then sat up straighter. He spread his hands as if backing up to provide more explanation. “Gallandro was a smuggler, you see. A quick draw, a sharpshooter and, uh”—a corner of Han’s mouth quirked in a lopsided smile—“a fellow scoundrel. We found where Xim hid his treasure, but Gallandro betrayed the rest of our team. Decided he wanted it all for himself. Challenged me to a blaster fight.”

Jacen was instantly alert. His father had always been one of the best shots in the New Republic. “And?”

His father lifted one shoulder for a second, then gazed down into the flames. “And I lost.”

All three young Jedi stared at him in disbelief “But you’re not dead,” Jacen pointed out.

“How did Gallandro die, then?” Anakin asked.

“His aim was good, but not fatal. He drew first, hit me in the shoulder. My shot went wide, and I dropped my blaster as I fell. While I was down he put binders on me and went off to chase one of the other members of our team, a Ruurian.”

“They look kind of like miniature Hutts, don’t they?” Anakin asked. “Only furry, and with legs?”

Han nodded again. “I wasn’t even there when Gallandro caught up with the Ruurian. But the treasure vaults had been booby-trapped—rigged so that if you drew a weapon in certain areas, the automated defenses would take you out. There were warning lights in those areas, but the Ruurian had removed them. Gallandro never realized he was walking into a trap.”

Han grimaced. “I don’t know. Maybe I’d’ve done the same thing. The Ruurian explained it to me afterward: he figured Gallandro had nothing to worry about—so long as his intentions were peaceful. But if the guy drew his blaster… well, then he’d get what he deserved. Could be that Gallandro only meant to injure the Ruurian, like he did me. In any case, the vault’s defenses did the rest.”

Jaina squeezed her eyes shut. “How awful.”

Jacen remained skeptical. “If that’s the way it happened, then why didn’t you just tell Anja?”

His father’s eyes clashed with his. “Tell her what? That her father was a traitor? A man who turned on his own team once the treasure was found and took it from them? A hotshot blaster jockey who got fried because he thought with his weapons instead of his brain?”

Han drew a deep breath, let it out with a slow shake of his head. “Besides, I had no idea before today that Gallandro had a daughter—or that she’s blamed me for his death all these years. With the resentment she’s built up in her life, if I told her what really happened, she might just take it into her head to go after the Ruurian, Skynx, because he disabled the glow signals that would’ve warned her father not to draw his blaster.”

Han’s eyes filled with doubt, and he looked back into the artificial firepit. “Still, I do feel a kind of responsibility toward her. I wish there was something I could do.”

Jacen wondered if there was some additional reason why his father should feel responsible. Had he told them everything?

“Maybe there is something we can do,” Anakin said.

Han sat back, a thoughtful look on his face. “Her planet, you mean?”

Jacen brightened at this idea. “That’s right. Anobis isn’t too far from here. And that civil war sounds terrible.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to go check it out,” Han admitted. “In my official capacity, of course—see if there’s anything the New Republic could do to help.”

“Kind of a diplomatic mission, you mean?” Jaina said. “I’m sure Mom would agree to that.”

A slow lopsided grin spread across Han Solo’s face. “Yeah. I think she would,” he said, getting to his feet.

He reached out to ruffle both of his sons’ hair, then walked around the circle, leaned down, and kissed Jaina on the cheek. “You kids get some sleep now. I’m gonna get dressed, go down to a comm center, and put in an official call to the Chief of State of the New Republic.”

Jacen nodded with satisfaction. It was the least his father could do.