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“I see I was prepared to give you too much credit on your reputation,” said A’baht.

“What are you talking about?”

“Among the Dornean, a male is expected to know when it is time to put down his babies and take up his weapon. But to be shamed into that duty by his female—”

“Yeah, well, tell it to someone who cares,” Han said, annoyed. “I’ve done my turn, and then some—and if it’s not enough to satisfy you, ask me if it’s gonna cost me any sleep. You’re not exactly diving on the Death Star in a snub fighter yourself, you know.”

A’baht laughed. “At least you have enough teeth left to bite back,” he said. “Can I see your orders?”

“There wasn’t enough time for formalities,” Han said, pushing the tail of his shirt down into his waistband. “Look, I’m no diplomat—ask anyone. Let’s try talking plainly and see where that gets us. I’m not here to replace you. I wouldn’t begin to know how to fight this task force, and I wasn’t planning on taking a crash course.”

“Very well. Why are you here, if not to replace me?”

“Now I’m giving you too much credit. I thought you could figure that one out on your own.”

“I do not enjoy the princess’s full confidence.”

“Right. But I do. So if I tell her everything’s fine, she’ll believe it.”

“No, there must be more,” said A’baht. “I don’t enjoy the princess’s full confidence—but she couldn’t find a reason to justify replacing me. If you’re not here to replace me, are you here to find her that reason?”

“I’m here to help you not do anything stupid,” said Han. “If it turns out you don’t need any help with that, that’s fine with me. I’ll sharpen up my barlaz game in your rec hall, find where your quartermaster keeps the medicinal dragon juice, and catch up on my sleep.”

“She still fears an incident with the Yevetha.”

“You could say that.”

“Perhaps she should fear the Yevetha instead,” said A’baht. “I’d like to hear your opinions concerning the Black Fleet.”

“Outside my jurisdiction,” said Han.

“And you said you were no diplomat.”

Han grinned crookedly. “I guess Leia’s been more of a bad influence on me than I thought.”

“Is there enough of the soldier left in you—”

“I was never, ever a soldier, General, even when I was wearing one of these,” Han said, tugging at the front of his shirt. “Too independent-minded—taking orders was never my strength. I was a Rebel.”

“And now?”

“I’m—a patriot, I guess. If that’s what you call someone who thinks the New Republic has the old Empire beat all hollow.”

“Very well,” said A’baht. “Then I ask the patriot in Han Solo to let me share with him a soldier’s view of why we are taking this ship to Hatawa and Farlax.”

“All right,” Han said. “If it can wait until all of us are a little more awake.”

“It can wait, but not too long,” said A’baht. “Have you eaten?”

“Nothing since my feet left the ground.”

“Then I suggest you come with me to the captain’s mess, and we’ll catch a meal while Captain Morano jumps us into the first grid. Unless your stomach takes exception to the combination of food and hyperspace?”

“Not at all,” said Han. “That’s kind of you. Let me find my shoes.”

“Oh—not entirely kind,” said A’baht.

“Oh? Is the captain’s cook still struggling to master his galley?”

A’baht smiled. “Since you’re senior to me—and especially since you’re Han Solo—your presence is a problem for me where the crew is concerned,” he said. “If you will allow it, I’d like to use your presence to underline the seriousness of this mission, and turn a negative into a positive. And having you seen as my guest aboard will kill the rumors your arrival spawned faster than any announcement I could make.”

Han nodded. “Let’s do it, then. I’m not here to make your job harder.”

At 2440 hours exactly, between the para rolls and the Dornean brandy, the Fifth Fleet jumped into Hatawa Sector. The search for Ayddar Nylykerka’s Black Fleet had begun.

Chapter 11

By the time Colonel Pakkpekatt reached a comm station, Lady Luck had moved within two kilometers