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With Anji shadowing her steps, she carried two others and set them side by side five meters from the shop’s front doors, then brought forward the first one she’d picked up. Once she was adjacent to the others, she uncapped the container, upended it with the awkwardness inevitable when a child manipulates an object light enough to carry but too big to handle easily, and poured its contents out on the other barrels. Then she set this barrel beside them.

Now to commit a crime. She hesitated a moment because she was sure it would be a crime. But it was also the right thing to do, and whenever Han had to choose between obeying the law and committing a crime for the right reason, he committed the crime and said that it was because Leia made him do it for the right reason. Allana nodded, satisfied with that logic.

She pointed at the door beside the shop, then whispered to Anji, “Go sit.”

Anji cocked her head and twitched her whiskers.

“Don’t play stupid with me,” Allana warned. “I know how smart you are.”

Anji contemplated Allana’s outstretched arm for a moment, blinked a couple of times, and trotted off—then stopped about halfway to the door and turned around to wait. Allana sighed. It would have to do.

From her pocket, she brought out the tiny welder she’d borrowed from the Falcon’s tool locker. She’d seen Han use it several times for minor tasks, but never for arson. She ignited it and held its flame to the liquid she’d poured out over the barrels. In moments they were ablaze.

She switched off the welder, collected Anji, then ran to stand beside the doors into the shop and kicked them several times, which resulted in a loud, metallic banging. Then she crouched down, pulling the garment’s dark hood over her head and wrapping Anji under her arm.

There was no response. She watched the fire growing on the barrels and wondered if it would burn itself out or perhaps be snuffed by a neighbor before Monarg ever noticed. She wondered if Monarg was even in his shop. Perhaps she should have peered into his window again before trying this. But no, that would give C-3PO enough time to catch up to her and stop her.

Then the doors swung outward. The one nearest Allana hit her, not hard, and pressed her and Anji up against the rough permacrete surface of the dome exterior. Anji bent her legs, gathering herself to jump on the man, but Allana dug her fingers into the nexu’s fur, holding her back.

Through the gap between door and jamb, she saw Monarg standing in his doorway as if thunderstruck. Then the man said a word that Han never, ever would use if he thought Allana was around. He turned and dashed back into his shop.

Allana frowned, unhappy. That hadn’t worked right. He was supposed to run outside and hop up and down near the fire.

Monarg dashed out through the doorway, carrying objects in his hands. Allana thought she recognized one of them as a fire extinguisher, but he was visible in the gap for only a fraction of a second, so she could not be sure.

She scooted sideways and peered around the door. Sure enough, Monarg was holding a fire extinguisher, and she heard its chuff as he began spraying its foamy contents across her fire. He was also looking around, paying as much attention to his surroundings as to the fire … and in his other hand was a blaster pistol.

Allana gulped.

But as Monarg moved around the burning pile, as he turned his face away from her and only his eye patch was visible, Allana dashed around the door and into his shop, still clutching Anji’s fur so the nexu would stay with her, then immediately ducked to one side so he could not see her through the open doorway.

The shop was as she remembered from the other night, alive with the rolling and scooting little mechanic droids. All had trays of parts and tools incorporated into their bodies just above wheel level, and some carried more in their hands as well. The droids did not react to her presence.

Dominating the center of the dome was the yacht. It was now a fiery yellow-orange, its many hull dents either pounded out or made hard to detect by the new