Star Wars: Scoundrels
“Han demanded. “Nothing,” Rachele said, her head almost touching Winter’s as the two of them peered together at Rachele’s computer display. “There are just too many dark red PT-81s in the city’s records.” “And the pinstripes are probably aftermarket add-ons,” Dozer muttered. He was sunk deeply in one of the chairs, staring morosely at the tips of his boots. Han looked around the room. Tavia was peering at another computer display, her face grim. Kell was sitting across from Dozer, tapping the fingers of his left hand soundlessly on the padded arm of his chair and fiddling with a blaster power pack with his right. Eanjer was standing at the window, framed against the lights of the city, staring out into the night as if his prosthetic alien eye could pierce the darkness and spot the missing airspeeder. “I’ll know it when I see it,” Winter offered hesitantly. “For whatever that’s worth. I could see some scratches and dents in the sides.” “But that kind of minor damage won’t be in any offi...cial records,”MoreLess
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