“Don't move, Calrissian," Fett hissed, and moved out until he was in full view. The pound of running feet approached, and then, more or less at the same time, both groups of pirates converged from opposite sides of the corridor. Boba Fett, who had been checking his weaponry, tensed, ready to do battle. Against how
many pirates? Twenty-five? Thirty? Maybe more.... Lando guessed.

The two groups drew nearer, then slowed uncertainly. Lando didn't blame them. He wouldn't want to be the first person to fire on Boba Fett, even at these odds. Chances are that the bounty hunter would take quite a few attackers with him.

"What's going on?" a familiar strong alto bellowed from the back of one of the packs. Lando let out a gasp of relief. "Boba Fett, in the name of all the hells of Barab, what are you doing here?"

"Collecting a bounty," the hunter replied. “No quarrel with you, Captain Renthal. I'll take my bounty and a shuttle, and go."-Chpt.8

"Here is Han Solo's girlfriend." Lando said. "He risked his life to save your Y-wings and Renthal's Fist from being blasted by Peacekeeper during the Battle of Nar Shaddaa. Seems to me you owe him."

Again Fett was surprised. Bria Tharen and Han Solo? That was obviously in the far past, since Fett had been monitoring her actions for over a year, and she'd had no
contact with Solo. Renthal blinked. “Bria? Her name is Bria? Like Solo's ship? This is that Bria?" Calrissian nodded. "Yes. She's that Bria." Drea Renthal grimaced and swore. "Lando... you just love to make my life complicated, don't you? I'm gonna take this out of your hide, baby? Okay... you're right, a debt is a debt." 

Reaching beneath her armored vest, she pulled out a heavy pouch. "Jewelry and credit vouchers, Fett," she said. "Should be over fifty thousand credits worth in here. Let 'em both go, and you can have your shuttle. I don't want a fight ... but I'm not letting you leave with them."

Boba Fett surveyed the assembled ranks of pirates, assessing his chances for fighting his way out. There
were thirty-two pirates. Hardly good odds. Boba Fett's armor would protect him, possibly enough to allow him to escape, but Bria Tharen was wearing a strapless evening gown. She was certain to be hurt, perhaps killed, in any firefight. And her bounty called for a live, unharmed, delivery. Boba Fett looked at the heavily
armed pirates, then at Bria Tharen, and experienced a tiny flare of something that he recognized, with dismay, as relief. Bria Tharen would not die today, or tomorrow, in agony, while the depraved High Priest of Ylesia rubbed his tiny hands and chortled with glee.

Fett took a deep breath. "The bounty on her is one hundred thousand," he said.

"Whoo!" Renthal looked over at Bria. "Honey, what in the name of Kashyyyk's night demons have you been doing? All right, Fett, you bloodsucker." Turning to her crew, she opened the pouch and held it out. "C'mon, gentles. I'm collecting fifty percent of my share of the Queen right now. Put it here."-Chpt.8