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“Oh … yeah.” Allana hopped down from Leia’s lap. “I’ll go make sure you don’t have to do it again.”

Leia smiled. “Thanks.” She waited until Allana had disappeared down the access corridor, then turned to Han. “All right, now tell me what that was about. You know Anji is going to be ill whether or not Allana is with her.”

“Sure, but you need to call Zekk and Taryn.”

Zekk had been their daughter’s mission partner—and Jagged Fel’s rival for her affections—until a couple of years earlier, when he went missing in action during the Battle of Uroro Station. After a weeks-long search, the Solos and the entire Jedi Order had finally given up and declared him dead … only to have him show up six months later, fully recovered and romantically involved with an agent of the Hapan throne, Taryn Zel. Neither Zekk nor Taryn would discuss what had passed during those six months—or why Taryn had neglected to inform the Jedi of his survival—but Leia thought it likely they had been on a mission for Allana’s mother, Queen Mother Tenel Ka.

Given that Taryn was under orders to render the Solos assistance whenever requested, Leia could see why Han wanted to send for the pair, but she did not understand why Han had wanted her to do it out of Allana’s presence. “Is there a reason you don’t want Allana to know we’re calling in a security team?”

Han nodded. “First, I don’t want her to worry about us while we’re gone. And, second, she needs to learn independence.”

“Independence, Han?” Leia asked. “At eight?”

“Hey, she’s already behind the curve,” Han said. “At eight, I was stealing my first starship.”

Leia shook her head in exasperation, then leaned forward to activate the holonet transceiver. “Why don’t I doubt that?”

Han smiled with pride, then continued the approach toward Dathomir. It was vaguely possible, of course, that they would find Luke and Ben hanging out at the spaceport cantina and never have to leave Allana behind at all—but he wasn’t betting on it, not when they had come hunting a female Sith on a jungle planet full of Force-witches.

“I’m not stupid.” And while the man was a touch belligerent, there was indeed no sign he was stupid.

Han, standing near the man in the shade between the Falcon and Jade Shadow, folded his arms and grinned. “Whatever you say, Darth.”

“It’s Tarth. Tarth Vames. And I don’t care if your transponder says you’re the Naboo Duckling, that’s the Millennium Falcon and you’re the Solos. And there’s a Report Location Request on you from Coruscant.”

Han pursed his lips and turned to look at his wife, an expression that meant, You take this.

Leia frowned. “So you know who we are.”

Tarth nodded, his motion brisk enough to stir his red hair. “You haven’t gone to any effort to hide it.”

“Of course we haven’t. It clearly wouldn’t have fooled you. So I can take it that you know something of our histories?”

Apparently a bit mollified, Tarth nodded again. “Who doesn’t?”

“So, historically, when the government has disagreed with us on some minor matter, how has it turned out?”

“Well, um, they’re mostly out of office now. Or dead. The ones who disagreed with you. And you’re still here. Right here.”

Han caught Tarth’s eye. “It’s because the politicians are in it to save their jobs, while we’re in it to save some little guy.”

“Or a lot of little guys,” Leia offered.

“Or a family member. Or a bunch of family members,” Han added.

Clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking, Tarth grimaced. “I’m the deputy director of operations here. The fact that you have, eh, a history of success in your confrontations with the government doesn’t mean I can just abandon my duty. Neither does the fact that your husband has a blaster on his belt. Oh, I’m certainly not going to take a swing at him. But—”

“We’re not asking you to abandon your duty.” Leia shook her head. “We’re asking you to do it. Just in a different way.”

“Uh … what way?”

Han grinned. Tarth was doomed. He’d taken Leia’s bait, and the hook would be set long before