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Han leaned back against the wall nonchalantly. Without showing himself, he answered, “Send him down, Uul-Rha-Shan. What the hell, come on down yourself, old snake! Happy to oblige.”

Then came Hirken’s strong-sales-experience voice. “We’ll talk from here, thanks. I know now just what it was you did.”

Han wished to himself he’d known, too, beforehand. “I want to strike a bargain,” Hirken went on. “However you’re planning on getting away, I want you to take me with you. And the others with me, of course.”

Of course. Han didn’t even hesitate. “You got it. Throw your guns down here and come down one at a time, hands on your—”

“Be serious, Solo!” Hirken interrupted, depriving Han of the chance to tell him where to put his hands. “We can keep you occupied here so that you won’t be able to get out yourself! And Stars’ End is at the top of its arc; we’ve seen that much through the dome. It’ll be too late soon for any of us. What do you say to that?”

“No way, Hirken!” Han wasn’t sure whether Hirken was bluffing about the tower’s having reached apogee, but there was no way to check it short of leaning out one of the locks—a poor idea in view of the scarcity of spacesuits. “Hirken’s dead center about one thing,” he whispered. “They could pin us here if we let them make the rules.”

The others followed him quickly down to the next landing, the last one before the tier-block level. They slipped around the corner and took up positions, waiting. Now it’d be the Viceprex’s turn to sweat. From what Han could hear, it sounded like the majority of the prisoners were still in the tier blocks, unsure of what they should do. Han just hoped they wouldn’t panic and come his way.

He had his blaster raised, knowing a questing head must come around the corner they’d abandoned, but it was impossible to anticipate exactly when it would come.

A head did flick around the corner, Uul-Rha-Shan’s, high up; he’d stood on someone else’s back or shoulders. He flashed out, saw the disposition of the defenders, and pulled back with astounding speed. Han’s tardy shot merely chipped a little more wall away; the pilot marveled at how quickly the reptilian gunman had moved.

“Is that how it is to be, Solo,” came Uul-Rha-Shan’s hypnotic voice. “Must I hunt you from level to level? Strike a bargain with us; we only desire to live.”

Han laughed. “Sure, it’s just everybody else that you don’t want to live.”

There was a noise from below, boots on the stairs. Doc reappeared, puffing. He threw himself down next to Han, his face composed in alarm. Han hand-signaled him to speak quietly so that those above wouldn’t hear.

“Han, the Espos have come! Their assault craft is at the lower lock, unloading a strike force. They’ve linked up with the Authority people who were hiding from us down there. They drove us off the engineering levels; many were shot, and we were forced back. More died on the stairs before a rear guard was organized, but the Espos are pushing a heavy blaster up, step by step. We’re in it where it’s deep, this time!”

A stream of prisoners was already pouring frantically up the stairwell, bound for the only shelter left, the tier blocks. “The Espos down there have spacesuits on,” Doc said. “What if they bleed off our air?”

Han abruptly saw that the men around him were looking to him for an answer, and thought, Who, me? I’m just the getaway driver, remember?

He shook his head. “I’m tapped out, Doc. Get yourself some machinery; we’ll play them one last chorus.”

Hirken’s voice boomed down triumphantly. “Solo! My men just contacted me by com-link! Surrender now, or I’ll leave you here!” As if to emphasize that, they heard the oscillation of a heavy blaster somewhere in Stars’ End.

“Well, they’ll still have to come through to us,” Han muttered. He grabbed Doc’s shirt, but recalling Hirken, spoke in a low, hard tone. “Don’t sweat the air; the Espos can’t bleed it off or they’ll kill their Viceprex. That’s why they hit the lower lock instead of the one at prisoner level; they knew they’d