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" He's the Imperial spy. He came here to kill you, Luke. It's why I'm here—to stop him."

Han jabbed Elad with the blaster. "Shut up."

"Or what?" Elad asked. "You'll kill me in cold blood? That will only prove the truth: that you're a mercenary. For enough money you'll do anything. Even kill an innocent man. Or—" He glanced meaningfully at Luke. "Someone foolish enough to believe he's your friend. If I have to die to reveal who you really are? So be it."

"You're not listening to this junk, are you?" Han asked. "You barely know this guy. Don't know anything about him. And you're going to believe him over me?"

"And what do they know about you?" Elad countered. "Other than the fact that you're a smuggler, a criminal, and wanted in twenty different star systems.

Go on," he urged Leia. "Ask if he has any evidence. Ask if he has a shred of proof that I would ever be a threat to the Rebellion."

Leia didn't even hesitate. "He doesn't need any."

Han started in surprise. "I don't?"

"He doesn't?" X-f0 7 said, his surprise shocking even himself.

"No," Luke answered for her. "He doesn't."

The certainty that filled him had nothing to do with the Force. He didn't need the Force to tell him that he could trust Han. The pilot had proven his loyalty, and his friendship, again and again—and no matter what had happened on Yavin 4, that was unquestionable. Luke had come to Tatooine hoping to take comfort in the friendships of his past, people he'd known long enough and well enough that their loyalty could never be questioned.

But coming home had made him realize that he wasn't the same naïve moisture farmer he'd been when he left. He wasn't the same Luke Skywalker who'd hunted womp rats with Windy and matched daredevil skyhopper maneuvers against Fixer and Jaxson. They'd known him longer, but they didn't know him better. Not anymore.

Luke had only known Leia and Han for a short time, but they were more than friends, they were family. And he trusted them both with his life.

He gazed steadily at the man who'd called himself Tobin Elad. "If Han says you're a threat, then you're a threat. All I need is his word."

Han broke into a surprised grin. "Then I guess you won't be wanting this?" he said, and tossed a datacard in Luke's direction. Luke snatched it out of the air and looked at it in confusion.

"Holorecording of the spy getting orders from his boss," Han explained. "Ask most people, and they'd tell you my word isn't worth two credits."

Elad looked disgusted. "You're all fools," he snapped. "And it's going to be my pleasure to kill you."

"Not today," Luke said, amazed by the transformation. In seconds, Elad had become a stranger—his voice, his posture, even his face seemed different.

Harder. Crueler.

"No," Elad said. "But soon." And then, with lightning speed, he slashed an arm out, slamming into Han's windpipe. As Han gasped and lurched forward, Elad sprang to his feet and leapt off the edge of the roof.

Luke rushed forward in time to see Elad's falling body reverse motion in midair and rocket toward the sky. Smoky plumes billowed from his hidden jetpack as he sailed over the roofs of Mos Eisley.

"Can't believe I let him get away," Han muttered angrily as soon as he could breathe.

"Don't worry." Luke watched Elad's figure dwindle to a speck, disappearing on the horizon. "He'll be back."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

"So, why'd you come back?" Leia said coolly, once enough time had passed that it was clear the escaped assassin wasn't returning. "Finally get bored playing your little space games?"

"Games?" Han repeated in disbelief. " Games? I risk my neck to come back here and save your lives—even after you accused me of trying to blow up Luke—and that's the thanks I get? Maybe I should have just stayed away."

"Maybe you should have," Leia snapped. "Then you wouldn't have to explain why you ran away in the first place."

"Listen, sweetheart, no one said anything about running away." Han jabbed his finger in the air