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Published by Ballantine/Del Rey 1983 Gambler, rogue, and con-artiste, Lando Calrissian was more comfortable at the dealer's end of a fast shuffle than at the rear end of a blaster. So he always had his sensors scanning for the chance to pick up easy credits--and when he heard that the planets of the Rafa System were practically buried in ancient alien treasure, he hopped aboard the Millennium Falcon, never stopping to think that someone might be conning the con man... |
New Man In Town
Another
figure appeared: a tall, cadaverous alien wearing something loose,
with polka dots. "I understand that you have expressed an interest
in the scientific theories of probability."
"Purely
scientific, friend. I'm a spacer by profession--an astrogator--so
my interest's only natural. I'm especially intrigued by permutations
and combinations of the number seventy-eight, taken three at a time.
Fives are wild."
"Ah .
. . sabacc." The alien took a long drag of orange smoke, then
exhaled softly. "I believe you could be inducted into the, er, research
foundation. But first . . . well, a small formality: your ship
name, if you please, sir--strictly for identification purposes. There
are certain regressive, antiscientific enemies of free enquiry--"
"--Who carry badges and
blaster?" The human laughed. "Millennium Falcon, berth
seventeen. I'm Calrissian, Lando Calrissian."