Member of the Guild
by Kate Birkel
art by Dani
PART 3
When Jabba's landspeeder reached the Mos Eisley spaceport, the area around Boba Fett's ship was a mass of people and confusion. Just out of blaster range, scores of Jabba's hirelings had fanned out around the Slave I.The leader of the group was arguing with an Imperial officer who was flanked by a half dozen stormtroopers. Fett himself was standing in the open hatchway, a blaster cradled negligently in his arms.
The Imperial officer broke off the discussion and strolled over to Jabba's skimmer. "What's the deal, Hutt?" His words and expression were contemptuous. "I don't like you and your bully boys screwing up my port."
Jabba gave the man an oily smile. "Business, sir. Business. That pilot has been trying to cheat me."
The officer laughed. "That's the day I'd like to see, scum. Anyone who can work you over has my vote."
"Popular, aren't you?" Gren said under his breath.
"Who's these with you?" The officer pointed to Jabba's companions.
"Permit me to introduce myself." Gren smiled and bowed politely. "I am Ryo Gren, Guildmaster of the Corellian Independent Traders."
The officer laughed. "You two deserve each other."
Gren allowed the gibe to pass unchallenged. "My friends, Lando Calrissian and First Mate Chewbacca."
The officer snorted. He stared down at Jabba. "I want this straightened out in ten minutes, Hutt. I've got a port to run."
"Of course, sir," Jabba agreed.
The officer walked away; the stormtroopers marched after him.
Jabba clambered out of the speeder. Gren, Chewbacca and Lando followed behind. A path opened through the milling crowd and the group leader bustled up to them.
"He has not moved from there or said a word, Master," the creature whistled through his nose at Jabba. "I told him you wanted to speak with him."
"Get back to where you were," Jabba ordered.
"Yes, Master. Of course, Master." The creature made a cringing obeisance as he withdrew.
"Well trained, isn't he?" Gren remarked.
"He wants to get paid."
As the three men and the Wookiee neared the ship, Boba Fett raised his weapon, pointing it directly at Jabba. The obese crime lord halted his progress.
"Where've you been, Fett?" he yelled.
"None of your business. Why the welcoming committee?" The bounty hunter's voice rumbled with anger.
"To make sure I got my cargo."
"Why wouldn't you get it? You don't get your cargo, I don't get paid. Where's my money?"
Jabba reached inside his tunic and brought out a small pouch.
"Not so fast. Why'd you bring Calrissian and the Wookiee? And who's the other one?"
"The Wookiee and Calrissian have already bought the cargo from me." Jabba jerked his thumb at Gren. "This is the Guildmaster of the Corellian Independent Traders."
There was the sound of Fett taking a deep breath. "Guildmaster, eh? I've heard of you, Gren."
"I've heard of you, too, Fett," Gren said politely.
"This is strictly between me and the Hutt," Fett explained earnestly. "Nothing personal, you understand."
"Nothing personal," Gren agreed. "I'm just making sure everything's neat and tidy. Bad for the Guild if the wrong publicity gets out."
"Glad you see it that way, Guildmaster. Maybe we can do business ourselves some day."
"It's possible," Gren said noncommittally.
Fett started down the ramp of his ship, blaster still pointed to Jabba. The Hutt and his party started walking to meet him. Gren could see the drops of sweat on the back of the Hutt's neck and smiled snidely to himself.
When they were only a few steps apart, Fett stopped. He extended one hand, held his blaster ready in the other. Jabba however, did not place the pouch in Fett's outstretched palm.
"I haven't inspected my cargo yet."
Fett's hand tightened around the blaster. "Your cargo's okay. Pay."
Gren poked Jabba in the ribs.
"I want to see the cargo," the Hutt's voice trembled. He was sweating profusely now.
Fett swivelled his head slowly, staring at each individual in turn. At last he spoke. "I'm telling you, the cargo is okay."
"It isn't that we doubt your word, Hunter, but we'd just like to see with our own eyes," Gren said firmly.
"Do I have you word, Guildmaster, that no one will try to pull anything?" Fett demanded.
"My word as Guildmaster."
That seemed to satisfy the bounty hunter. He motioned for the four to walk ahead of him up the ramp into his ship.
The ship's cargo hold was small and uncomfortable, crammed with weaponry and machinery. It was plain to see that Fett took his chosen career seriously. Fett led them into a smaller cabin which housed four cages of varying sizes. Lying in the empty space between two of them was a large metal slab with the features of a man molded in crude bas-relief.
"I told you the cargo was okay," Fett grumbled.
"Lando, check it," Gren ordered.
Calrissian fell to his knees next to the carbonite. He fiddled with the dials and checked the readouts, then rose to his feet. "Han's still alive, Guildmaster, but he's showing signs of distress. We better get him out of here fast."
"Hutt, get your men to load Captain Solo onto the Millennium Falcon,"Gren snapped.
"But, Guildmaster," Lando protested.
Gren glared at the erstwhile gambler. Lando signaled for quiet and made for the far corner of the cabin. Gren followed.
"What is it?" Gren hissed.
Lando cupped his hand, held it up to his mouth. "Chewie and I are supposed to keep Han on Tatooine, Guildmaster. Others will be along to rendezvous with us later."
"No," Gren said sharply. "I want the boy out of this pesthole before he gets into any more trouble."
Lando seemed ready to argue the point, but Gren stood firm. "Yes, Guildmaster," Lando agreed finally.
The transfer was accomplished under Gren's watchful supervision until the Falconblasted off for the space borne rebel stronghold. Once Solo's ship was out of sight, Gren hustled Jabba onto his own Guild ship.
"Where are you taking me?" Jabba demanded sulkily.
"No place in particular, Hutt. But I suggest you settle down and shut your mouth for a while. Make too much trouble and I might be tempted to space you along with the rest of the ship's garbage."
Leia was in conference when See Threepio burst into the room, his arms waving wildly, his mouth chattering at top speed.
"Forgive me, Your Highness!" he chattered. "But the Millennium Falcon is back. Lando Calrissian has just asked for permission to dock. He says he has Captain Solo, and he's called for a medical team. Oh dear, I do hope Captain Solo has not been severely damaged."
Leia looked across the table to Luke. Her eyes shone, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. The Guildmaster had done it!
"That's impossible!" Luke sputtered. "Lando was supposed to wait for us on Tatooine."
Leia took a long, slow breath. Outside of Luke, no one had yet realized the true relationship between herself and the Corellian pilot. It had been too precious, too fleeting, and the future too uncertain. Now there was hope, but the middle of a strategy meeting was no time to give way to the jubilation she felt.
"Circumstances change, Luke," she suggested, striving to appear calm to her colleagues. She smiled serenely, then addressed the excited droid. "Tell the Dockmaster to have Captain Solo taken to the medical section immediately. Commander Skywalker and I will be down after this meeting."
"But Leia!" Luke protested.
Leia's smile remained fixed. "Later, Luke."
Luke looked around the table as he realized the point Leia was trying to make. "Oh, yeah, sure," he said hastily. "Later." He looked at See Threepio. "Tell those medical droids to take damn good care of Han!"
"Yes, Master Luke," Threepio nodded. "I shall watch them every minute."
Leia turned back to the group. "Now, where were we, gentlemen and ladies?"
Leia was discouraged as she stepped out of the doorway to the medical section. Forty-eight hours after Han had been brought there, he was still under heavy sedation. Even as the medical droids labored to repair the physical damage caused by carbon freeze, they had promised that Captain Solo would soon be cognizant of his surroundings and would able to converse. But they would only allow her to stand by his bedside for a few minutes. He was pale and there were tubes running in and out of him at every angle. At least he was breathing, she reassured herself.
There was a footstep and Leia looked up. The Guildmaster was striding toward her.
"Your Highness," Gren stopped and bowed.
"Guildmaster Gren," Leia nodded in return. "I see you managed to talk your way back through our security."
Gren shrugged. "I wish to speak to Captain Solo before I go on to Gule Rannon. I'd really like to hear his side of all this."
"Yes," Leia said. She paused for a moment, then added awkwardly, "Thank you, Guildmaster, for rescuing Captain Solo. The Alliance is very grateful for his return."
"The return of a top commanding officer is always to be greeted with pleasure," Gren grinned cheerfully.
Leia had the uncomfortable feeling that the Guildmaster was toying with her, baiting her into revealing more than she might intend. She refused to give him the satisfaction. "Of course," she agreed demurely. "Everyone knows that the members of the Corellian Independent Traders are excellent pilots. We wish we had more like Captain Solo."
Gren frowned. "I am not at liberty to make any such commitment, Your Highness. However, I believe I can say that no member of the Guild is actively fighting against your people."
"But you still work with the Imperials."
"As seldom as possible. We're not overly fond of them."
"Why don't you join us instead?"
Gren shook his head. "I wish it were that simple, Your Highness. Unfortunately, there are too many people dependent on the revenues of the Guild and its members. To openly join the Rebel Alliance would lead to harassment and economic hardship. Our own must come first."
"I see." Leia's lip curled in scorn. "Well, then I'll be on my way. Excuse me."
Gren caught her by the arm as she started to leave. "Wait, Your Highness," he said sharply. Leia paused. "You don't see." Gren was not angry, but he was insistent. "Seventy years ago, Corell used to be the garbage dump of the Empire, a starving, dying slum. Over the years, we have pulled ourselves up to where we can survive with dignity. We won't let Corell sink down that low again.
"Yes, I know the rebellion is gaining support every day. You may not realize it, but even some of the Emperor's closest advisors are contributing to your effort. But now is not the time for Corell to jump onto your side. The Emperor is still too powerful. Right now, you have enough trouble keeping yourselves alive. Next year, maybe, but not now."
Fear tightened in Leia's stomach. "You're not going to tell the Imperials where we are, are you, or how to get through our defenses?"
"Don't be silly," Gren said icily. "For one reason, it would be economic suicide for the Guild. Given a free hand, the Empire will restrict trade more and more, gradually forcing all merchants out of business. The Old Republic was not good for Corell, but this Empire is worse. The only sane course for us is to support the rebellion because that is the only way free trade will continue and expand. But we can't be open about it."
"Money. It all comes down to money, doesn't it?" Leia demanded. "All you Corellians care about is money."
"Not always, Your Highness. But Corell has had to fight too hard and we need money to maintain what little we now have. We are just beginning to exploit Corell's natural resources instead of scratching at the surface for subsistence. But we need money to develop those resources. It takes hard, cold cash to buy machinery and pay for knowledge." Gren paused for a moment. "After seventy years of being Guildmaster, Your Highness, I look forward to the day when Corell's survival is not bought with the blood, guts, and tears of our children sacrificing all to earn a few paltry credits for our home world."
Gren's intensity took Leia aback. She had been born to a position of power and authority on a wealthy, secure planet. She and her compatriots had never had to worry about where their next meal was coming from. They had been free to concern themselves with luxuries such as liberty, justice, and dignity. But she had seen enough of what Gren was talking about to understand. "My apologies, Guildmaster," she said softly.
"If all goes as I think it will, Your Highness, I will return next year to negotiate Corell's services to the Rebellion." Gren smiled at her. "In the meantime, I believe Captain Solo should be capable of serving as liaison between the Guild and the Alliance. If he's going to remain with you people, he might as well serve some useful purpose."
The thought of Han serving as even a minor diplomat nearly caused Leia to choke. "Do you trust him that much, Guildmaster?"
"Well, so far he seems to have upheld the reputation of the guild. At least he's still welcome here," Gren said. "I don't suppose he can do too much damage to either of our groups in a year, and the responsibility might serve to remind him of others."
"What others?"
"His responsibilities to his Guild and to Corell," Gren said firmly. "I wish to retire as Guildmaster, Your Highness. Whether Captain Solo wants to or not, he will take my place."
Gren's assertion angered Leia. "You can't force Han into something he doesn't want," she said forcefully. "And it's not right to try."
Gren's eyes glinted with cynical amusement. "How much choice, Your Highness, did you have to become a princess of Alderaan and an Imperial senator?"
"That was different," Leia fumed.
"No, Your Highness, there is no difference. Like you, Captain Solo has been trained to be Guildmaster since the day of birth. And, in spite of his best efforts to prove the contrary, he remains the best candidate. Further, I firmly believe that Captain Solo himself will see this within the space of the next two or three years." The harshness in Gren's face softened. "I promise you, Your Highness, that I will not have to twist Captain Solo's arm or exert any other sort of pressure on him. He will return to Corell of his own free will when the time is right for him to do so." Leia fancied she saw something like pity in his eyes. "He will be a good Guildmaster, Your Highness, better even than myself since he will be able to build on what I have accomplished. Corell and the Guild will flourish under his direction. Corell and the Guild need him. He will come home."
Leia stared at the Guildmaster, but there was no yielding of Gren's implacable manner. Slowly it came to her that the man was not making idle threats or dreaming about the future; he knew exactlywhat he was saying. She looked away from Gren and stared blindly down the corridor. She would lose Han after all. Oh, he might stay with her for another couple of years, but then he would leave to become what destiny had chosen for him. All that had gone before, all that might be, was nothing compared to the reality Gren had painted in bold, certain strokes. She started when Gren laid his hand on her arm.
"I'm sorry, Your Highness," he said with genuine compassion.
Leia shook off his hand. She drew herself to her full height, generations of breeding stiffening her spine and freezing her face. "There is nothing to be sorry for, Guildmaster. Captain Solo owes nothing to the Alliance. In fact, we owe him a great deal. I'm certain he'll be a wonderful Guildmaster."
"I'm glad you see that, Your Highness," Gren bowed gravely.
"You will excuse me, I have duties elsewhere," Leia said stiffly.
"As we all do, Your Highness." His cloak swirling gracefully around his trim frame, the Guildmaster vanished through the doorway.
It was a long, restless night for Leia. Over and over, she thought about the Guildmaster's words and his prediction that Han would soon return to Corell. There was no doubt in her mind that the man spoke nothing less than the truth. Han wouldleave. Maybe not tomorrow, and maybe not next week, but he would leave. It was but a matter of time. That left her with a choice. She could try to pick up from where things had stood at Hoth, living from day to day with the fear that tomorrow would be the day Han left, or she could cut it off now. Sure, there might be a few months, even a year or so, of happiness, but was it worth the ultimate cost? Losing Han once had driven her to the brink of losing control. A second time could only be worse.
In the course of the night, it never occurred to her that a compromise might be worked out or that a thousand and one accidents of Fate could intervene. To Leia, the problem was black and white, to have or not have, to do or not do. She fell asleep before reaching her decision.