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Greelanx stared down at the sparkling fortune in assorted untraceable gems, and his eyes lit up. “The Hutts are true to their word,” he said. “But you won’t mind if I—” He gestured with a magnifier.

“Go right ahead,” Han said.

The admiral spent the next few minutes examining several of the largest, most beautiful gems—Gallinorean rainbow gems, corusca stones, and Krayt dragon pearls of various sizes and hues. “I assume you found your shuttle at the rendezvous point,” the admiral said, “since you are here exactly on time.”

“Yes, sir, everything was just like you said it would be, Admiral.”

Greelanx glanced up, still holding the magnifier up to his face. His right eye was enormous, as seen through the lens. “How are you planning to get off my ship?” he asked, as if only mildly curious.

Han shrugged. “I have a partner who will pick me up.”

“Very well. Young man, these stones are exactly as specified. Please tell your Hutt masters that I am satisfied.”

Han nodded, but said, “They aren’t my masters. I just work for them.”

“Whatever,” Greelanx said. He hesitated, then said, “I didn’t believe you could do it, you know. Even with the battle plan.”

“I know,” Han said. “But it was that or die. We were fighting for our lives. You were fighting for credits. Makes a big difference.”

“That holo-illusion was a brilliant tactical stroke.”

Han smiled and executed a slight bow. “Thank you.”

Greelanx seemed taken aback. “You did it?”

“No, I had an expert do it. But it was my idea.”

“Ah.” The admiral seemed to consider for a moment, then said, with a trace of wistfulness, “You despise me, don’t you, young man?”

Han stared at him in surprise. “Not at all. I do lots of things I’m not tickled about for credits.”

“But there are some things you will not do.”

Han considered. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“Well, I—”

Greelanx broke off as the door suddenly opened, and his aide stood there, eyes wide and frightened. “Admiral! Sir!”

“What is it?” Greelanx was annoyed.

“Sir, I was just advised by the docking-bay crew … he has just landed. An unscheduled inspection, apparently. He is on his way to speak with you at this moment!”

Greelanx took a deep breath, then waved the man out. “I suppose I should have anticipated this, under the circumstances,” he muttered, racing over to the wall. Behind a Certificate of Merit, there was a wall lockup unit. Greelanx stood for a moment, letting the unit scan his retinas. The door swung open. The admiral grabbed a double handful of jewels, raced over, dumped them in, then came back and brushed the last of the gems into his palm, dumped them, too.

While all this was going on, Han was standing there, totally bemused by the admiral’s actions.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“No time,” Greelanx said, shutting the lockup. “Here, you’ll have to wait in here. You can’t let him see you. If he did—” The admiral bit his lip, yanked open the other door, the one leading to his secretary’s office. The room was vacant, dark. “In here. Don’t make a sound. Not a sound, understand?”

“No,” Han said, totally confused. “I don’t.”

Greelanx did not bother to reply. Grabbing Han’s arm, he shoved him into the office, then shut the door.

Han stood there in the dark office, wondering what in blazes was going on. Who was he? It sounded like Greelanx was expecting some kind of monster out of a kid’s adventure tri-dee!

Half-tempted to storm back out and just say “good riddance,” Han tiptoed over to the door. The doorseal, he discovered, hadn’t quite caught. He was able to hear Greelanx moving around, and then came some small thumps and rustles.

Putting his desk back to rights, Han realized.

Then came a squeak, as Greelanx sat back down in his luxurious lizard-hide chair. Han could almost picture him, being elaborately casual.

The doorseal to the outer office hissed. Han heard a heavy, measured tread and the whisper of something that might have been fabric. Was the newcomer wearing long robes? A cloak?

Then came another sound that the Corellian recognized—loud, stentorian breathing,