Log Date:
	6/17, 6/19/98

Log Cast:
	Talon Karrde, Leia Organa-Solo, Han Solo, Lando Calrissian

Log Intro:
	Having brought Leia safely back to Calamari, Han has reluctantly
agreed to the request of Mon Mothma that he reactivate his commission and
take over the command of the New Republic Army. But even in the midst of
the inevitable storm of things that must be done when a new officer takes
charge of an army, the Corellian hasn't forgotten for an instant that Luke
remains missing, in the hands of the Empire. Nor has he forgotten that 
Lando Calrissian, too, is unaccounted for -- and from what he's managed
to learn from Tarroc D'agor, Talon Karrde may well be involved.
	Han doesn't know, however, that Leia has her own ideas about how
to deal with Talon Karrde...

----------
The signal on the _Wild Karrde_'s communications panel indicates an incoming
  Holonet transmission, bleeping quietly, steadily, insistently.

After a few minutes, it's answered with, "Wild Karrde." A male voice, calm
  and somewhat inquisitive.

The female voice on the other end is quietly confident, its supple nature
  easily recognized. "Captain Karrde, I presume?"

The answer doesn't shift in tone. "You presume correctly. What can I do for
  you, Highness?"

"I was rather surprised to hear you were in the vicinity, Captain Karrde,"
  Leia muses; one can imagine the slightly forward angle of her body toward
  the communications system. "Are you intending to stay long, or does business
  call you away?"

The smile seems to relay itself over the communications line well. "I had an
  odd delivery, as you might have heard. I was just finishing a pre-departure
  run. I have already seen Calamari, beautiful planet."

A catch of hesitation comes in the princess's rich voice. "An odd delivery? No,
  my details are sketchy. What delivery was that?"

"Calrissian, he required safe passage out of an Imperial presence at Caspar,"
  Karrde replies somewhat coolly, though it's directed elsewhere. "Might I
  ask if you called to query on my agenda, or some other reason?"
Karrde inquires politely, "Are you asking as a customer then?"

Leia answers with nary a pause, "Of course. Would I have another reason to
  do so?"

"I wouldn't know," Karrde answers with a light chuckle. "I would be
  interested in hearing what you need, considering my past experience with
  the New Republic has been rather unfortunate, personally and in 
  business."

Leia's smile is audible, briefly, in her voice. "I would like to hire you
  for transportation back to Caspar, if you're amenable to making a few
  credits on what was previously an unpaid leg of your trip."

"Is there a shortage of your usual transport, Highness?" Karrde asks
  curiously. "The recent case was an exception, I am not a passenger vessel."

"It's a matter of economics," Leia asserts blandly. "I have a ship waiting for
  me, so we'd save the cost and fuel of an extra Republic vessel making a round
  trip; secondly, you're a businessman. I'd have thought that the chance to add
  to this trip's profits might appeal."

Karrde's answer comes smoothly, with little hesitation, "I'm afraid I must stick
  to my own rules about passengers. There are quite a few services available to
  transport you, though I thank you for your obvious concern about my monetary
  gain."

A pause, then Leia says with unfeigned disappointment, "Considering the 
  atmosphere at Caspar, I'm understandably concerned about engaging unknown 
  service, especially where safeguarding myself is concerned. Tell me, are you 
  going to go to Caspar next or Bespin?"

There is a pause as well on the other end, then, "Highness, I cannot give you
  passage. I can recommend some reliable services, but I'm sorry, but your
  request is outside what I'm prepared to do. Will that be all?"

"For the time being," Leia replies equitably. "Thank you for your time, Captain,
  and for bringing Lando back safely. He's a valuable friend. But then, I'm
  certain you understand our appreciation and dedication to our friends and
  family."

"Yes, yes I do," Karrde replies easily. "Calrissian, I'm certain, learned that
  appreciation the hard way, as I am. Thank you for calling, I hope we'll talk
  at another time."

Leia replies delicately, "Oh, I rather hope we will too. Good luck with Bespin;
  it's a beautiful place if the Imperials allow it to be. Organa Solo out."

"I don't know," growls a baritone voice from the doorway, "whether to kiss you 
  or smack you halfway to the Rim and back!"

Leia answers without turning around, "I smack back."

Heavy footsteps herald Han's approach as the Corellian comes into the room in 
  three swift strides. His hands drop down to the Princess's slender 
  shoulders, as he moves without her permission to turn her round to face him. 
  Looking down at her, his weathered features creased in consternation, he 
  rasps, "I don't like the idea of you flyin' anywhere with him."

Leia's reaction is self-possessed in tonality while a darkening of her irises 
  implies a stubborn climate in the near future. "If I thought it was 
  dangerous, Han," she explains placidly, "I wouldn't approach him with that 
  request, would I?"

He smirks. "Danger," he counters, "ain't never stopped you from doing a damned 
  thing before." His smirk fades, though, leaving his face serious, a trifle 
  worn. "Look... I was gonna tell you he was in orbit -- D'agor caught me in 
  the Council building, told me about it -- but I got ambushed by another 
  horde of bureaucrats." He pauses, actually seeming to consider his words, 
  before he goes on grimly, "Leia -- Karrde's got Bespin. _Bespin_. What the 
  hell's he doing with Bespin, if he's not in the Empire's pocket?"

Leia has not a single answer for that. Rising from her desk chair, hands 
  seeking her lower back, she leans backward until the tensions ease, then 
  addresses her husband's concerns. "I know, he talked to me about that too. I 
  don't know what to say, Han. It's an Imperial stronghold, it has been since 
  Lando ... well, you remember as well as I do. Valak's paid him handsomely 
  for something...unless the Baron Administrator's done something foolhardy."

"Yeah, and what worries _me_ is, is Valak payin' him for givin' him _Luke_?" 
  Han states bluntly. "If so -- what'd stop him from givin' Valak _you_?" The 
  Corellian stops right there, just gazing grimly at his wife, not even 
  wanting to think about any implications of that possibility, much less voice 
  them.

"No," says Leia consideringly, eyebrows knitting near the bridge of her nose, 
  "I don't think Karrde would do that. I've met him, Han; I'm don't understand 
  the Force the way Luke does, but I didn't get the sense of guilt or even 
  smugness that turning him over to Valak would have given. It'd be like him 
  to cash in on the mistake he claims to have made that gave Luke to the 
  Empire, though. Admit it."

Leia's observations do not appear to particularly soothe her husband. Han 
  grimaces, giving the far wall a stony glare, before he finally mutters 
  grumpily, "You're right... I'd do the same thing myself."

Smiling wryly, Leia captures one of his hands in her fingers and affectionate 
  massages its sinews. "Well, perhaps a few years ago, Mr. I'm Only In It For 
  the Money."

"I was!" Han protests, trying to pretend he doesn't look embarrassed. He 
  covers it up fairly well, though, immediately summoning up his lopsided 
  grin, turning his hand in Leia's to squeeze her fingers. And he clarifies 
  huskily, "_Then_."

Leia fingers his collar and the insignia of rank thereon, her right hand still 
  nestled within the far-larger grasp of his left hand. While she withholds 
  expressing the emotion verbally, a quiet sort of pride surges from within 
  her at the reminder of her husband's most recent foray into responsibility. 
  "Yes, well...we've all changed since those days, hmm?"

The rank insignia, glittering against the collar of Han's otherwise strictly 
  civilian shirt, is the one concession he's made so far to the change in his 
  status. Still, he flicks a downward glance there, his expression turning 
  vaguely sheepish -- at least until he once more swiftly regains his grin. 
  "Yeah," he rumbles, "you're now willing to admit you're crazy about me."

Poking and prodding at her courtesy of teases typically evokes a variety of 
  reactions from Leia, not the least of which is a sardonic, elegant upward 
  arch of her right eyebrow. Occasionally her forefinger stabs into his 
  stomach as a reminder not to trifle with her, and rarely does she resort to 
  tickles. (Han being ticklish in a few spots was something she expects to 
  hold over him one day when a dire need for blackmail surfaces.) Tonight the 
  forefinger and eyebrow arch are expressed. "Now you're willing to adhere to 
  monogamy."

Grinning broadly, Han steps over to slide his arms around Leia, pulling her 
  close to him. "You're worth it," he rumbles unabashedly. Then the grin 
  softens a touch, turns more serious, his previous mood not entirely gone. 
  "So don't make me have to revert to my old scoundrellish ways, huh, 
  Princess?" He finishes, almost pleadingly, "Be careful."

Expression softening, Leia touches his lips with the softened tip of one 
  finger, eyes seeking and holding his hazel gaze. "I have too much to live 
  for not to be careful."

What can he answer to that, save to dip his head downward and claim Leia's 
  mouth for his own? Han does exactly that, his embrace tightening, one hand 
  coming up to cup the back of the regal head in his palm, the other arm 
  encircling the Princess's dainty hips. Ventures into *coff* respectability 
  aside, when push comes to shove, Han Solo is still far more of a man of 
  action than of words.

Leia indulges herself in his embrace for a timeless moment, acutely aware that 
  such embraces will be in limited supply for a month or so (_at least_, she 
  added grimly to herself), while her arms close about the narrow shape of his 
  waist. Once she has the willpower to separate her lips from his, she 
  murmurs, "You can still take a girl's breath away. I'll give you that."

Once more grinning lopsidedly, Han murmurs, "Maybe you'd better lie down, Your 
  Highness.... wouldn't want you getting dizzy."

Cheeks rosy at the suggestion and its ramifications, Leia drops her jaw but is 
  rendered positively speechless by his assertion. Married life has not, 
  apparently, stolen all of her maidenly charms. Eventually she smiles 
  sheepishly and draws him against her for the kiss's resumption.

More than willing to pick up where he left off, Han takes his time, the kiss 
  slow and easy, and he appends it with a wryly whispered, "I'll hafta come 
  with you, you realize. Health reasons."

"You are," she breathes against his firmly insistent lips, "incorrigible. I'll 
  bet you know that."

[Indeed, Han knows that -- and he steals an hour or so demonstrating this
 very knowledge to his wife. After a while, however...]

There is a firm knock at the door. Probably another peddler, trying to push 
  his wares.

Lando enters the suite from outside.
Lando has arrived.
After knocking once more, Lando decides to just try the door handle. He enters 
  calling out, "Han? Leia? Anyone home?"

"Keep your shirt on, keep your shirt on," Han Solo might be heard to grumble, 
  as he emerges from his bedroom -- apparently in the middle of enacting his 
  own advice, as he's working on buttoning up his rumpled white shirt. The 
  Corellian comes striding into the suite's main room, and does a double-take 
  at the visitor. "Lando..." A gruff chuckle, and then a broad lopsided grin. 
  "You've been workin' on that timing of yours, haven't ya?"

Lando glances casually at first at his friend, an eyebrow raising immediately 
  as he sees Han's nimble fingers work at the buttons of his shirt. A hint of 
  embarrassment creeps into the gambler's voice as he says, "I... wasn't 
  interrupting anything, was I?"

Three buttons left being acceptable for Han's personal dress code, the 
  Corellian just grins widely, and drawls, "Your timing ain't that bad yet, 
  pal." he steps forward, expression then shifting, ever so slightly, towards 
  the sheepish. "Look, Lando -- I owe you an apology, if I'da known you didn't 
  have a way off Caspar when we lit outta there, I'd have tried to wait--" He 
  lowers his voice, glancing back towards the bedroom, and adds, "--but I had 
  to get her outta there, ya know?"

"Oh, I know what you mean, Han, old buddy," Lando says, glancing casually in 
  the direction of the bedroom door, without actually trying to look through. 
  He continues, "Believe me, if I were in the same situation, I would have 
  done the same thing. And as it works out, I made it off, safe and sound 
  anyway." The smile he dons at that point is congenial, measured, and just 
  enough to cover the thought, _So what if it cost me an arm and a leg..._

Han nods, just a bit brusquely, perhaps relieved to get that off his chest, 
  though he's doubtless unlikely to say so. "Glad to see ya," he says simply, 
  and tosses a casual hand off in the direction of the kitchen. "You want 
  anything? What brings ya by?"

The bedroom door activates and from its open portal comes the "she" to whom 
  Han referred moments earlier, her braid hanging loosely down the center of 
  her back, her attire simple: a loosely flowing dress of pale aqua. The 
  expression on her delicate features - cross would be a polite phrasing - is 
  vanquished by her delight at seeing the dark-skinned gambler. "Lando!" she 
  exclaims, hurrying forward. "I knew you'd gotten back to Calamari, but...oh, 
  what a relief."

Lando opens his mouth to give a reply to Han's offer of hospitality, but is 
  stoped short by the appearance of the Alderaanian princess. Whether Lando's 
  appreciative look that he gives the woman, bordering on leering, is 
  intentional to ruffle Han's feathers, or whether he simply can't help 
  himself is unknown. His smile broadens and he says, smoothly, "The pleasure 
  is all mine, as always." He turns his head then toward Han, and gives his 
  friend a quick wink and says, "Actually, I was hoping to find you both at 
  home, and make sure you were both okay after that ordeal in Caspar space."

Han clears his throat and just _eyes_ Lando for a moment, but because it's 
  Lando, his glare is rather more mild than it might otherwise have been. He 
  glances with lingering warmth to Leia, to whom he murmurs, "You want 
  anything?", as he steps off into the kitchen.

"Oh, just some juice," Leia answers breezily while Lando receives an ample 
  embrace and kiss on the cheek. She's not encouraging him...or at least she 
  doesn't appear to be encouraging him. "I felt horrible about abandoning you 
  and Lieutenant Ga'lec, but Han was in a rush to leave the system. Karrde 
  said he escorted you here?"

From the entrance into the kitchen where Han has disappeared, there come the 
  sounds of the Corellian's rummaging to find glasses. "Well, five Star 
  Destroyers _did_ kinda influence my decision there, Princess," he calls out 
  gruffly.

Lando returns the embrace, but at either the mention of Karrde or the Star 
  Destroyers, Lando's smile falls away, replaced with a look of distaste. He 
  says, "Yes, Karrde and his crew escorted us here. Carried is a more fitting 
  description, really." His jaw clenches momentarilly as he bites back some 
  other choice words.

Leia, astute and observant lady as she is, eases from Lando's arms while 
  asking carefully, "Is there more to the story than Han and I have heard?"

Han steps back around the corner from the kitchen, offering Leia her glass of 
  requested juice, and he eyes Lando once again. But this time it's with 
  query, enough to register that he's listening with avid attention even as he 
  steps back into the kitchen.

Lando considers quickly how best to describe his journey back to Calamari. 
  It's a matter of two choices, really... explain how Karrde may be rogue, and 
  possibly lose whatever chance of salvaging a relationship between his 
  organization and the New Republic there might be, or swallow his pride and 
  let things go their course. Choice made quickly, he dons a broad smile and 
  says, holding his hands palm upward and shrugging, "There's not that much to 
  say, really. A little bit of a misunderstanding between myself and one of 
  the crew members may have hurt my business relationsihp with Karrde 
  somewhat, but otherwise the trip was uneventful."

Re-emerging with another glass of juice in hand, Han offers this to Lando, and 
  puts in in the meantime, "Well, huh. Doesn't much assure me."

After accepting the proffered glass, Leia stands comfortably beside her 
  husband while sipping her juice, attention dedicated to Lando and his tale. 
  Presently she offers nothing except her ears, tuned to Lando's information.

Lando accepts the offered drink before he knows it is even in his hand. He 
  takes a long sip of it, appreciative as the memory of being shot has dried 
  his mouth somewhat. As he lowers the glass once more, he turns back to han 
  and says, "What sort of assurance are you looking for?"

Leaning against the wall behind him, Han crosses his arms against his 
  half-shirted torso, and smirks slightly. "Something that tells me we don't 
  have to worry about him being in the Empire's pocket would be nice."

Leia, trying to be the voice of reason, can offer nothing better than. 
  "Perhaps some business deal with the Empire is what gave him Bespin. Not any 
  payoffs."

Lando licks his lips, considering that possibility, and once more making a 
  quick decision not to throw Karrde to the wolves just yet. He says, "He may 
  have been in a position that he had to accept Bespin, or else lose his 
  neutrality in the Empire's eyes." He pauses a moment, then gives Han a blank 
  look as he says, "What do you think... he who's not with us is against us, 
  perhaps?"

His face settling into thoughtful lines, Han keeps his leaning stance against 
  the wall, and returns Lando's gaze. "I... did tell Leia that if it was me, 
  I'da done much the same thing," he admits grudgingly.

Leia, remaining both neutral and quiet, lets her gaze flicker from Han to 
  Lando, expectation of his next statement legible in her demeanor.

Lando turns his brown eyes upon Leia's, and says, "In any event, any dealings 
  with Karrde won't be able to go through me. At least, not for a long while." 
  _And not until Ariana is no longer in his service, certainly_.

"You know anything about any further dealings with him?" Han wants to know, 
  dark brows winging lower over hazel eyes. "I didn't know a damn thing about 
  him being in orbit till D'agor told me his ship was here."

Leia injects mildly while giving the juice a small swirling within its glass 
  confines, "I can ask Mon Mothma. I think it's curious he arrived but didn't 
  land. What's he doing up there?"

"And furthermore," rumbles Han musingly, eyes and tone just a touch dark, 
  "does he know anything about Luke?" The Corellian's gaze flicks once from 
  Leia to Lando.

Lando looks between Han and Leia as they speak, then stops at Han, addressing 
  his question first. "I don't think that Karrde knows where Luke is being 
  held, if that's what you're asking." To both the Solos, he continues, 
  solemnly, "Honestly, I don't know why he hasn't landed yet. I was hoping 
  that he would, so that some measure of hospitality could be extended to him 
  for saving my bacon."

Leia, lifting her hand, asserts quietly, "He doesn't know where Luke is, 
  believe me. I questioned him about it before leaving Kichnar and got a sense 
  of guilt. If he knew where Luke's being held, I think he'd help. Why, I 
  don't know. Profit? Ease a conscience? Maintenance of his neutrality?"

_Guilt._ Lando thinks, his hand moving to his chin in a thoughtful fashion. 
  _Then my gut was right about Karrde the first time._ He gives Han an 
  appraising look, then says, "I don't think Karrde will play any further into 
  Luke's whereabouts. That was, actually, part of why I came here today, after 
  all. I was hoping that you might have some idea where he might be."

Han snorts, and steps disgruntledly over to flop, with his usual lack of care, 
  onto the couch. He slouches there while telling both of the others, "I've 
  been so far out of the loop for so long that it's probably a miracle that I 
  got the news in the first place," he complains. Never mind that his location 
  outside the proverbial loop was half his doing; for now, the Corellian 
  appears inclined to sulk. "I was tryin' to find out what I could when I got 
  to Caspar, but then the Imps showed up. Leia, I bet you know more'n'I do.

Pain diminishes her beauty, etches lines into her visage before she turns her 
  countenance from the others. "I know some," she answers tightly, "but not 
  enough. Not nearly enough."

"You see, that's exactly what I thought," Lando says before downing the rest 
  of his nearly forgotten juice. He takes a few steps to set the empty glass 
  upon a horizontal surface and continues, "Who all have you described that 
  tower to, Leia?"

From his slouch on the couch, Han studies his wife and his friend, his hazel 
  eyes darkened. "Tower?" he asks, brow furrowing. "What tower?"

"When Luke contacted me," Leia murmurs, pacing toward the glass doors through 
  which an oceanic vista is visible, "he showed me an obsidian tower within a 
  swamp, green lightning surrounding it. I think he's there."

Lando nods, though his eyes remain fixed on the shorter woman as she walks 
  toward the window. He says to Han, "Myself, I've never seen such a place. 
  How about you, Han?"

Han blinks, three or four times, frowning at Leia's words. It takes him a 
  moment before he realizes that if Luke has contacted his sister, it must not 
  be by any means _he_ understands -- in other words, the Force. He shifts in 
  his seat, throwing an arm out along the back of the couch, and he grimaces 
  in thought. "I've been on dozens of worlds -- lots with towers... but how 
  many thousands of worlds in Imperial space could match that description? 
  That's a whole helluva lot of space to cover."

Leia's answer is bitingly bitter. "Don't you think I've found that out over 
  the past week, Han? How many libraries and research facilities and data 
  storage units do you think I've tried to access to find that place? It's 
  impossible. It's just impossible."

Lando holds up his hands in a defensive gesture again, saying, "Now, hold on, 
  Leia. Maybe we've been going at this wrong. When you want to fill an inside 
  straight, if you figure out which cards you need, not which cards you don't 
  need." He looks over at Han, saying, "There are thousands of Imperial worlds 
  with towers on them, yes... but we're talking about the storage of the 
  single most notieable hero in the entire war. Not every Imperial world with 
  a tower is going to be qualified to hold such a man, especially when he's a 
  jedi. What other clues do we have?"

The Corellian's hands come up too, palms out, in an instinctive attempt to 
  brace himself against Leia's emotion -- though his own face also tightens, 
  his eyes darkening further, with more than a little guilt. _Oughtta be out 
  there lookin' for the kid..._ Restless, he sweeps up to his feet again and 
  starts pacing.

Leia's self-recrimination rings in her voice as she half-spits, "If I knew 
  anything else, Lando, I'd have investigated that too. I don't know half of 
  what Luke knows about the Force. A fifth of what he knows. A tenth. I just 
  know about the tower, the swamp, the lightning, Luke's inability to use the 
  Force most of the time, and my impotence in finding him." Pressing the heels 
  of her palms against her eyes, she adds with weariness, "I don't even know 
  if he's still alive."

Lando says, lowering his smooth baritone to a gentler timbre, "That's another 
  clue, my friends, and I'd be willing to bet that it's the key to finding 
  him. We're looking for a place that not only is heavilly guarded and easilly 
  protectable by the Empire, but that also has a black tower in a swampy 
  environment, experiences electrical storms at this time of year, and quite 
  likely has something in its environment that keep Jedi from using their 
  powers. I have no idea where such a place might be, and I sincerely doubt 
  anyone else in this room has ever heard of such a place, either. We need to 
  take this to Mon Mothma."

Wincing slightly at Leia's tone, Han steps back to her, reaching a hand for 
  her shoulder. "Well," he suggests roughly, "maybe we oughtta bring in more 
  Jedi, too. Anybody talked to Jessalyn Valios? Or... dammit, if I knew how to 
  contact Sinjon Teague..."

Leia shakes her head, either in dismissal of Han's suggestion or in negativity 
  for her own emotions. A deep inhalation is followed by another, then, with 
  vocal control restored she explains to Lando, "We can ask her. I've asked 
  Winter; she's heard of no such place either, and if she doesn't know, I 
  don't know who would." The smile given to both Han and Lando is thin, a 
  half-hearted but sincere effort at hopefulness. "But it can't hurt."

Lando winces slightly, casting his eyes upon the ground a moment in thought. 
  He shakes his head and says, raising his head and looking ack into Han and 
  Leia's faces, "I'm hoping that Mon Mothma has had some people out in the 
  field, looking for leads. If we can take the profile we have for the place 
  the Imperials are holding Luke and match it with one of those leads, we'll 
  be in business."

[Or so they hope, at any rate. To be continued...]