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“Hey, we’re the best there is, and you know it,” BoShek told him. He waved at the bartender, who shot him a surly look and turned away. “So how’s the Falcon holding up? You need another code job yet?”

The Wookiee shook his shaggy head, then hooted in laughter. He howled another phrase that BoShek tentatively translated as: “After what you charged us last time, we’ve been keeping our noses clean. It’s cheaper.”

“Think of it as life insurance,” BoShek said, echoing the abbot’s favorite sales pitch. He was about to shout at the bartender when he felt an unmistakable awareness of someone behind him. It was the strongest presence he’d ever felt.

He turned as casually as he could and saw the old hermit and the boy in the doorway. The hermit’s eyes met his, and just a hint of a smile showed on his grizzled face. Leaving the boy with their droids, he walked straight up to BoShek and said in an astonishingly rich voice, “May the Force be with you, my friend.”

The Force? Had he really felt it just now? “I—uh—thanks,” BoShek stuttered. “How did you know …?”

“Your struggles are as plain as words for someone who is trained to see them. I could teach you much, but I fear my time here is short. I need passage off the planet. However, since I believe you have a ship, perhaps we could further both our quests at once.”

BoShek could hardly believe what he was hearing. This old guy was practically reading his mind. BoShek had never told anyone about his fascination with the Force, yet here came this complete stranger who picked up on it immediately. But he’d gotten part of BoShek’s story wrong. “I wish I did have a ship,” he said. “But I’m just a pilot.”

“Ah, that’s a pity,” said the hermit. “Perhaps when I return we can discuss the Force anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe we can.”

Chewbacca growled softly, and BoShek took the hint. “I do know someone with a ship who might be willing to take on passengers, though,” he said, nodding toward the Wookiee.

“I see. Thank you.” The hermit glanced toward Chewbacca, then looked back at BoShek and said, “I’ll leave you with one piece of advice: Beware the dark side. Your role here on the edge of society has put you in a very ambiguous position, one that you must resolve before you can continue in your journey. Only the pure of heart can ever hope to wield the Force’s power with any success.”

“Thanks, I think,” BoShek said.

“You’re welcome.”

It was clearly a dismissal, so BoShek bowed out with a nod to Chewbacca, letting them discuss business while he went around to the other side of the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

He’d finally managed to get a drink and was casting about to see if he could spot Solo when the old man pulled a lightsaber on a walrus-faced Aqualish and an even worse looking human, and BoShek got knocked over in the rush to give them room. The Aqualish lost an arm in the fight, and the old man gained a wide zone of respect, but BoShek didn’t care about either one of them at the moment, being occupied with wiping a pint of bitter off the front of his flight suit.

Bloody brawls were nothing new in the cantina, and aside from the old man’s lightsaber this one was nothing special, but enough of the other bar patrons had spilled their drinks that it took BoShek another ten minutes to get served again. By then he’d spotted Solo, but the Corellian was already deep in conversation with the old man and the boy, so he sat back down at the bar and waited his turn. Maybe he could learn something more from Solo about the old guy after they were done.

While he waited, he tried asking around to find out what all the stormtroopers were doing in town, but nobody would admit to knowing. The Imperial troops had simply swooped down from their Star Destroyers a couple of days ago and set up roadblocks all over town, and in most of the other towns surrounding the Jundland Wastes as well. They were looking for something, but nobody knew what.

A couple of them came into the cantina, shining conspicuously in their