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“Over four thousand,” he said. “Even if we only spend a second looking at each one, it could take us …”

Han started the calculations, and for once he was grateful when C-3PO jumped in with an answer.

“Eighteen point three minutes,” the droid supplied. “That figure assumes that there are four people searching, and that they spend no more than five seconds with each level change.”

Natua turned toward the nearest set of stairs. “I’ll start at the top.”

Han caught her shoulder and shook his head. “Hold on,” he said. “We don’t have eighteen minutes. We don’t even have a quarter of that.”

Natua’s face scales darkened. “We aren’t going to give up.” Her tone made it clear that she was issuing a proclamation, not asking a question. “Not after we’ve come this far.”

“Of course not,” Han said. He turned to R2-D2. “You, start recording. We want the layout, the interfaces, and as many pod faces as you can capture. When we get back to the Temple, the Council is going to want to know who all these people are, and anything you can give them will help.”

R2-D2 gave an obedient chirp and spun toward the nearest pod.

“Pardon me, Captain Solo,” C-3PO said. “But wouldn’t it be better to find a dataport and have Artoo simply ask Xyn for the Jedi Horns’ location?”

“No time for that,” Han said. “If it were that easy, Artoo would have done it already.”

“Then how are we going to find the Horns?” C-3PO asked.

“We’re not,” Han replied. “You are.”

“Me?”

“Sure,” Han said. “The signal neutralizer is off, and we know those transmitters Mirax planted are in here somewhere.”

“Of course!” Leia shot Han one of those admiring smiles that always made his day. “See-Threepio has a full-spectrum receiver.”

“That’s true,” C-3PO said. “But I fail to see how that’s going to help me find the Horns. They won’t be calling us on their comlinks.”

“No, but those tracking bugs are,” Jaina said. “Taryn said they disguise their microbursts as background radiation, remember?”

“Right,” Han said, turning back to C-3PO. “So do a full-spectrum scan and—”

“There!” C-3PO extended an arm and nearly swept Natua off her feet as he lurched to the safety rail. “Just one level below us. I recognize the signal from our planning session.”

“Good job!” Han slapped C-3PO on the back and—ignoring the droid’s protest—turned to Natua and Leia. “Why don’t you two help Yaqeel and Seff bring up the pods. Jaina and I will get started on the extraction strategy.”

Instead of running for the stairs, Leia and Natua simply leapt off the balcony, grabbing the safety rail with one hand and using it swing themselves onto the level below. Han returned to the hatch and knelt beside Jaina, then removed the last of the stun grenades from his vest and arrayed them on the floor. He still had the single thermal detonator that Zekk had left him.

“Now comes the fun part.” He peered out into atrium, which looked like it had been hit with a blizzard of flame retardant. “Do you know where the snipers are?”

“Sure.” Jaina waved her hand in an arc, indicating the upper balconies lining the atrium wall opposite them. “Pretty much everywhere.”

“So we’re not going to have trouble hitting them, huh?”

“I doubt it.” She looked over and said, “You know, Dad, this wouldn’t worry me so much if you were a Jedi Master.”

Han smiled. “Don’t worry, kid,” he said. “I’ve got my luck—and it’s gotten me this far, hasn’t it?”

Jaina smiled back. “I suppose it has.” She kissed him on the cheek, then reached over and flipped his repeating blaster’s power setting back to FULL. “Just in case, though, let’s give them a reason to keep their heads down.”

Han barely heard this last part because his attention was fixed on her hand. Actually, it was fixed on her ring finger, where he had just noticed that a very familiar, very expensive engagement band had reappeared.

“Hey, where’d that come from?” he asked. “I thought you told Jag to toss that in the lake?”

Jaina blushed and looked away. “I never told him that.”

“Something like that,” Han said. “So what gives?”

“Nothing,