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And he wished that Luke had never said that: Thanks to you. Because now if something went wrong, Han would know exactly who to blame.

"Thought I'd find you two here," Elad said, pushing his way through the crowd to join Han and Chewbacca.

"Any luck with Kenuun?" Han asked.

"One Keizar-Volvec KV9T9-B Wasp, with a top speed of 800 km per hour and a fully functioning current filter. Luke's testing it out right now—he didn't want an audience."

Han just grunted, and took another swallow of his lum. It was watery and lukewarm, but it did the trick.

"Leia's keeping an eye on him," Elad added.

"Kid's going to be fine," Han mumbled. "We should all just relax."

Elad nodded, but said nothing.

A Phlog appeared before them, his thick, greenish finger exploring the innards of his bulbous nose. "Rumor has it, you're the folks who killed Grunta," he growled.

Elad and Han exchanged a look. Chewbacca issued a warning growl. Han knew the prudent thing to do was deny it and walk away. That's what Leia would have advised.

"Rumor's right," Han said.

The Phlog yanked his finger out of his nose, used it to stir his drink, then gulped the lum down in one shot. "Hey, these are the guys who killed Grunta!" he shouted to the crowd.

All noise and motion immediately ceased. Every face turned toward Han, Elad, and Chewbacca.

Uh-oh, Han thought. But he was almost looking forward to a fight.

The crowd exploded into cheers. The Phlog slapped Han on the back and ordered another round of drinks. His treat.

"I'm guessing Grunta wasn't a friend of yours?" Han asked, starting to get the picture.

"That piece of bantha slime?" The Phlog spit out a wad of purple phlegm. It spattered on the ground inches from Han's boots. He held out a massive, sticky hand for Han to shake. "Haari Ikreme Beeerd, at your service," he said. "Any enemy of Grunta is a friend to us all."

"You a Podracer?" Elad asked.

The Phlog shook his head, gesturing at his massive bulk. He was three times the size of an average Podracer. "Crew—for Gilag Pitaaani over there." He pointed across the tent to a stubby Nuknog who was crushing a bottle of fizzbrew against his knobby skull. "We race for the Muun Chenik Kruun." Haari Ikreme unleashed a rapid string of chokes and coughs that Han suspected might be laughter. "A cold-blooded, emotionless sand snake if I ever saw one, but when he heard about Grunta's death, he nearly smiled. Nothing would make him happier than beating Nal Kenuun."

"My master, too," a Glymphid put in, raising a mug of lum with the suction cup at the end of one of his spindly fingers. "All these Muuns, they hate each other. But one thing unites them—they hate Kenuun more."

"And why not?" Haari Ikreme said. "A colder, crueler being you'll never meet." He sputtered with his strange laughter again. "Unless you're a krayt dragon, that is."

"And why's that?" Elad asked.

"Haven't you heard?" Haari Ikreme asked in surprise. "Everyone knows that Kenuun loves nothing in this galaxy except his baby krayt dragon. The whole planet's laughing about it behind his back. Of course, the last one foolish enough to laugh in front of him learned his lesson."

"Kenuun punished him?" Han asked.

"Killed him," the Glymphid said.

"And his family," Haari Ikreme added. "Not that anyone could prove it. No, Kenuun's smart. Just not smart enough to find himself a pilot who could actually win the race."

"You should see what he's got racing for him," the Nuknog said, chortling. "We're taking bets on how quickly the human dies. Low bid's fifty, if you want in."

Chewbacca growled. Han put a hand on his shoulder. Weapons weren't allowed inside the tent, so they'd left their blasters back at the campsite. "Easy, buddy," he murmured.

"I saw him out there this afternoon," the Glymphid jeered. "Kenuun's making a joke out of this whole race. We'll be lucky if the human doesn't take us all down with him when he goes."

Haari Ikreme leaned toward Han. " I'll be lucky if the human dies within the first ten kilometers," he whispered. "I've got two thousand riding on it. Cross