Bloodlines: Star Wars Legends (Legacy of the Force) (Star Wars: Legacy of the Force - Legends Book 2) by Traviss Karen

Author:Traviss, Karen [Traviss, Karen]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780345510495
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2008-04-29T04:00:00+00:00

CORELLIAN ASSEMBLY BUILDING. CORONET: OFFICE OF THE CORELLIAN PRESIDENT.

It was an awfully big office, and offices that big usually meant small-minded men occupied them. Fett remained dismayed by the ease with which the likes of Thrackan Sal-Solo bounced back from disgrace and even treason charges to hold high office again and again. The galaxy was a moral cesspit. It got what it deserved.

“You beat the blockade, then,” said Sal-Solo, leaning back in his splendid apocia chair and holding court in front of the opposition party representatives. He smiled charmingly at Mirta, who didn’t smile back. She didn’t charm easy, that girl. “How would you like to work for Corellia?”

“Specify your requirements regarding Centerpoint.”

“The Alliance sabotaged it but I’m embarking on repairs and it should be fully operational in a few months.” Sal-Solo used the pronoun I a great deal. Fett listened in vain for the word we. “Once it’s online, the Alliance won’t be able to make us disarm. Ever.”

“Then why do you need Mandalorian assistance?”

“Repair crews haven’t been able to land on the station.”

“Try recruiting on Nar Shaddaa. You need smugglers to run blockades, not soldiers.”

“But when we do land crews, we’ll need someone to defend the station. It’s the Alliance’s prime target.”

Fett didn’t care for Sal-Solo. He didn’t care much for anybody, but this man was what Mandalorians called a hut’uun, a coward, the lowest form of life. Mirta had taught Fett a few choice Mando’a words against his will, but it seemed to be a fine language to curse in. “How much?”

Sal-Solo’s eyes flickered as if he had to look to his colleagues for some mandate but was deeply unhappy about being seen to do so. “One million credits.”

“Per man.”

“Yes.”

“Per month.”

“That’s a ludicrous figure.”

“It’s dangerous work.”

“I was thinking of a flat fee. It’s only going to take a few months.”

“We don’t do open-ended contracts. Months turn into years on construction projects.” Fett really didn’t want the work at all, and he knew the commandos didn’t. “And no start date yet. Call me again when you put a crew on the station and we’ll talk. But it’s a million per man per month. If we do it, we’ll be bearing the brunt of Alliance attacks and they’ll probably cream your fleet first, which means we’ll be defending your interests on our own.”

“How many men?”

“That thing’s bigger than the Death Star. A hundred at least.”

Fett watched Sal-Solo’s face fall ever so slightly. Two of the other three politicians looked grim. The third, Gejjen, seemed perfectly happy. Maybe he knew something about Corellia’s budget that they didn’t.

“I hope you didn’t mind my dragging you all this way for such a brief meeting,” said Sal-Solo, still directing the occasional insincere smile at Mirta. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Always worth visiting Corellia,” said Fett. Yes, always worth getting inside a government building and recording the layout and weak points. Always worth finding out what your opposition buddies want. Always worth tracking down Han Solo and waiting for my daughter to show up. “I might stay a few days.

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