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He didn’t go any closer to their prey, but swallowed uneasily when he saw that human-shaped ribs protruded from the mangled chest. Minions of Xendor, what kind of place is this?

His legs were growing very tired. He wasn’t wearing a chrono, but when he passed beneath an airshaft, Han tilted his head far, far back and stared up at the dizzying height. A faint square of pallid light was visible at the very top. Light’s going. By the time I’ll be able to reach the rendezvous, it’ll be dark … For the first time in hours, Han thought of Bria, and was very glad he hadn’t taken her with him to the bank this morning.

She would be worried, he knew that. With a sigh, Han found another stairway and started the long, long climb upward.

By the time he’d reached a level that had such amenities as parks, and park benches to sit on, Han’s legs were cramped and he was shaky with exhausion. He slumped onto the bench, wondering, for the first time, what he’d do now.

He was so tired and disheartened that his mind spun like a creature trapped inside a barrel, rolling downhill. Gotta think, he told himself. I can’t go back to Bria like this …

But, despite his best efforts, no solution to his present dilemma presented itself. Han got to his feet and shambled off toward the nearest turbolift, feeling like one of the troglodytes he’d seen—only marginally human.

When he checked his locator, he found that it was working again, and he began following it to the coordinates he’d told Bria about.

Level 132, megablock 17, block 5, subblock 12 … he kept repeating to himself. As he ascended the levels to ones that were, to his mind, livable, his stomach growled when he caught whiffs of enticing odors from cafés and restaurants he passed.

Finally, he saw a sign lighting up the night in a sleazy section that bordered the alien enclave. A huge, venom-dripping Devaronian fur-spider, picked out in garish greenish-black lights, dangled from an eye-searing scarlet web. The Glow Spider. At last …

Noise and bustle filled the streets, and many of the passersby were the worse for drink or drugs. Han passed the mouth of an alley and saw someone activate a light, then the blue flash and sizzle as a dose of glitterstim ignited.

Han paused in an alcove across the street from the cantina, wondering whether Bria was waiting outside or inside. He hoped she hadn’t gone inside alone … or had she gone to try and make contact with Nici the Specialist? He sighed, wiped his sweaty face with his hand, and felt his head spin from exhaustion, thirst, and hunger.

As he hesitated, Han felt someone grab his arm. He spun on his heel, hand going to the front of his jacket where the blaster was hidden, and then stopped when he saw Bria. “Honey!” he gasped, grabbing her and holding her so tightly she began to struggle after a second. She felt—and smelled—so good!

“Han!” she gasped. “I can’t breathe!”

He relaxed his grip slightly, stood swaying. She pushed his hair back from his brow, staring anxiously up into his eyes. “Oh, Han! What happened?”

Han felt his throat close up, and for a moment he was afraid he might disgrace himself and start bawling. But he took a deep breath, shook his head, and said, “Not here. Let’s find a place to stay and some food. I’m done in.”

Half an hour later, they were locked inside their room in a dingy flophouse. Han had been in worse, but it hurt him to see Bria’s brave attempt to pretend she wasn’t shocked by the dirt, the smells, and the scuttling insects. But the place was cheap and seemed secure.

The first thing Han did was wash up and drink several glasses of water. He still felt light-headed, but the smell of the carry-in food revived him somewhat. He sat down on the edge of the rickety bed, and he and Bria took turns eating out of the single container.

The food returned some energy to Han’s exhausted body. He swallowed the last bite and sat back, staring hollow-eyed at Bria, wondering where to begin.

“Han, you have to tell me,” she