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Seconds ticked by in Han’s head as he waited, forcing himself to remain immobile and silent.

Then Tagta actually chuckled, a deep but unmistakable sound. “Captain Solo, you are a brave sentient indeed! I admire courage!” He fumbled amid the welter of items scattered among the squirming foodstuffs, and tossed Han a pouch. “There, I believe the amount is correct.”

The old villain! Han thought, half admiringly. He had it ready all the time! He WAS just testing me …

With the realization came a surge of confidence. Han bowed. “Please accept our thanks, Lord Tagta. And I wish to ask a favor, Your Excellency …”

“A favor?” the Hutt boomed, blinking his bulbous eyes rapidly. “You are indeed a bold sentient! What is this favor?”

“I understand that you know Lord Jiliac, sir?”

The huge, slit-pupiled eyes blinked again. “Yes, I do business with Jiliac. We belong to the same clan. What of it?”

“Well, I hear that there’s work for good pilots to be had on Nar Shaddaa. And that Lord Jiliac owns or controls a lot of the Smuggler’s Moon. I’m a good pilot, sir, I really am. If you could, I’d appreciate a recommendation to Lord Jiliac. Chewie and I would like to work for him.”

“Ahhhhh …” The deep voice boomed in the massive chest. “I see. What shall I tell my clan lord? Shall I tell him that you are brazen and greedy, Captain Solo?”

Han grinned, suddenly daring. He was learning that Hutts had a sense of humor—twisted, but definitely a sense of humor. “If you think it would help, Lord Tagta.”

“Ho-HO!” the Hutt leader boomed a mighty shout of laughter. “Well, let me tell you, Captain Solo, there are not many humans with the intelligence to claim those qualities as virtues. But among my people—they are, indeed, sterling attributes.”

“As you say, sir,” murmured Han, not quite sure what to reply to this.

The Hutt Lord bellowed, “Scribe!” in Huttese, and a bipedal droid came scuttling from behind the drapes in the cavernous room. “Yes, Your Impressiveness?”

Tagta waved a hand at the droid and gave it an order in Huttese so rapid that Han had trouble following it. Something about “seals” and “messages.”

Moments later the droid reappeared with a small, palm-sized holocube. After handing it to the Hutt, it stood back respectfully. Tagta took the little holocube, perused the message it contained, and grunted with satisfaction. Then, quite deliberately, the Hutt licked one side of it, leaving a green smear.

After holding the cube for a moment, Tagta activated the side of it, and a clear film slid down to cover the greenish smear. “Here, Captain Solo,” the Hutt said, handing Han the holocube. “By this Lord Jiliac will know that I sent you. He is indeed in need of good pilots. Work hard for him, and you will be rewarded. We Hutts are known for our generosity and beneficence to lower life-forms who serve us ably.”

Han took the cube rather gingerly, but it was no longer wet. He looked at the greenish smear, realizing that Jiliac would be able to do a sensor analysis and verify that the holocube had indeed come from his relative. Clever, even if it is disgusting, he thought.

He bowed deeply, and nudged Chewbacca, who also bowed. “Thank you, Your Excellency!”

Then, clutching his holocube, Han left the Hutt overlord behind. As they were walking down the ramp outside the Hutt mansion, Han insisted on divvying up the credits from the voyage. “Just in case one of us gets robbed,” he explained, to quiet Chewbacca’s protests. “That way one of us is sure to have some money.”

Once back out on the street, Han suggested that they get some food before heading to the shuttleport to catch the next ship for Nar Shaddaa. Stopping by a flower-seller’s booth, Han asked the proprietor, a spindly humanoid with long, wiry whiskers and tufted ears, whether there was a good restaurant in the vicinity. The sentient directed him to the Starfarer Diner, a few blocks away.

They were halfway there, strolling casually and chatting, when Han suddenly stopped in midsentence and swung around, alarmed—and not even sure why. Out of the corner