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“Yessss …” the Togorian said, nodding. “Pilot means ‘packmate.’ ”

“Right.”

“Good,” the bodyguard said. “Muuurgh misses his packmates.”

Han recalled Teroenza saying that his people came from Nal Hutta, the Hutt homeworld, but Han hadn’t realized that that meant there were Hutts living on Ylesia. When questioned, Muuurgh confirmed that he had seen several of the “slug masters who ride on air” as he called them.

There’s only one reason Hutts are here, Han thought. They’re the real masters of Ylesia. After all, they dominate the contraband spice trade …

Lunch was good, if unimaginative and (to Han’s taste) lacking in seasoning. Still, the cook was no slouch. His or her bread was very good, Han thought as he chewed on a bite of Alderaanian flatbread. He realized suddenly, with a pang, that it had been nearly a day since he’d thought of Dewlanna. The thought made him feel vaguely disloyal, but then he took himself in hand. Dewlanna wouldn’t want him to mope and grieve over her. She’d always enjoyed life, and she wouldn’t expect Han not to, just because she was gone …

He came back out of his reverie to find Muuurgh watching him curiously. “Pilot is thinking of someone far away,” the Togorian observed, waving the bone he had just finished gnawing. Tiny fragments of raw meat still clung to it, but Muuurgh had cleaned it impressively, Han thought. He had to get every little bit. It required a lot of raw meat to keep that massive body going.

“Yeah,” Han agreed with a sigh. “Someone about as far away as anyone can be.”

“Pilot have sweetheart?”

Han shook his head. “Well, there’ve been a few girls here and there,” he admitted, “but nobody special. No, I was thinking of the person who more or less raised me.”

Muuurgh took a huge gulp of some foamy stuff from a tankard. “Humans raise young much differently than my people do,” he said.

“Really? Tell me about your world.”

Muuurgh obediently launched into a description of Togoria, a world where males and females, though equal, did not mix their societies. Males lived a nomadic hunting existence, flying over the plains on their huge, domesticated flying reptiles, called “mosgoths.” They hunted in packs.

The females, on the other hand, had domesticated animals for meat, so they did not need to hunt. They lived in cities and villages, and it was the female Togorians who had developed all of the planet’s technology.

“Well, if your people don’t live together, how do you”—Han searched for a polite term—“uh … get together, you know, to … uh … reproduce?”

“We travel to city to stay with our mates once each year,” Muuurgh said. “Betweentimes, we think often of each other. Togorians very emotional people, capable of great love,” he added earnestly. “Especially males. Great love is why Muuurgh is here. Males of my species rarely leave our world, does Pilot know that?”

“I do now,” Han said. “So … Muuurgh … when you say great love made you come to Ylesia, what do you mean? Do you have a mate?”

The Togorian nodded. “Promised mate. Someday be mated for life, if Muuurgh can but find her.” The huge alien sighed, looking so woeful that Han felt sorry for him.

“What’s her name?”

“Mrrov. Beautiful, beautiful Mrrov. As Togorian females do, she decided to take look at big galaxy. Muuurgh begged her not to go, but females very stubborn.”

The alien looked at Han, who nodded. “Yeah, I’ve run into that myself.”

“Mrrov gone long time, years. When she not come home to be mated, Muuurgh so sad that he cannot stay on Togoria. Must discover what happened to her.”

“So … did you?” Han took a sip of his Polanis ale.

“Muuurgh traced her, from world to world to world.”

“And?” Han prompted when the Togorian paused.

“And Muuurgh lost her. Someone on Ord Mantell said he saw her board ship at spaceport. Muuurgh check schedules, find out ship had many pilgrims on board. Several ports of call for ship. Muuurgh take chance, come here, because so many pilgrims come here.” The big felinoid sighed heavily and nibbled on a meat-dripping bone. “Gamble no good.