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A complicated comcode followed.

Intrigued, Teroenza memorized the code. As promised, in sixty seconds, it blinked off, to be replaced by the words “What do you want most? We’d like to know. Perhaps we can help each other.”

The message, of course, was unsigned, but Teroenza had a good idea of who had sent it. As he sat watching it blink off, to be replaced by his comm unit’s standard greeting and request for ID code, Teroenza realized what this meant.

Would he reply to the message?

Was he a traitor?

What did he want most?

When Han flew Jabba back to Nar Shaddaa following the big Hutt conference (Jiliac had decided to stay on Nal Hutta for the length of her confinement) he immediately sought out Lando Calrissian.

During his trip to Nal Hutta, Chewbacca had been continuing the young gambler’s piloting lessons, and Han was encouraged at his new friend’s progress. “You’re coming right along, old buddy,” he said as Lando, his mouth tight with concentration, executed a perfect landing. The ship settled into the Millennium Falcon’s assigned berth with nary a wobble. “Another week, and you’ll be ready to solo.”

Lando glanced up at Han, his dark eyes very serious. “I think I’m ready now, Han. Fact is, I’ve got to be ready now. I’m leaving tomorrow. I’ve heard there’s some good gambling and pleasure worlds out in the Oseonian system, and I’m heading out to see for myself. Or maybe I’ll hit the Corporate Sector.”

“Lando, that’s clean out of Imperial space!” Han exclaimed. “You’re not ready to navigate this ship that far! Especially flying alone!”

“Want to come with me?” Lando offered.

Han thought about it, and for a moment was tempted. But he’d given his word to Xaverri, and … he shook his head. “Can’t, Lando. I’m signing on with Xaverri to work for her during this next tour. I promised her, and she’s counting on me.”

“Not to mention that she’s a lot prettier than I am,” Lando added dryly.

Han grinned. “Well … there is that.” He sobered. “Just wait a couple more days, Lando. Trust me, pal, you’re not ready yet to go that far, especially with no copilot.” Inwardly he was thinking, I’m losing the Falcon … what if I never see her again?

“Chewbacca here has been giving me good lessons,” the gambler insisted. “He’s barely had to touch the controls the last couple of times I’ve taken us out.”

“But—” Han began.

“No buts,” Lando said. “I’m living on borrowed time here on Nar Shaddaa, Han—and so are you. Boba Fett isn’t one to forgive and forget. I’m making myself scarce for at least six months. When does Xaverri leave?”

“Next week,” Han said. “Her engagement was held over another week. By popular demand.”

“Have you told Jabba that you’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I did. He wasn’t happy about it.”

Chewie interjected a comment.

“Hey, Jabba was born cranky,” Han said defensively. “He’s one of the orneriest Hutts I’ve met—and that’s sayin’ something.”

“Did you tell him why you’ve got to leave?”

“Yeah, I did. That was the only thing that calmed him down. I think even Jabba might be a little nervous if he knew Boba Fett was gunning for him.”

“Well … if I were you, I’d get out of here as soon as you can,” Lando said. “And until you’re off Nar Shaddaa, you’d better watch your back.”

Nothing Han said could change Lando’s decision. It was with a heavy heart that he stood on the landing platform the next morning and watched the Falcon take off. The freighter wobbled slightly as she went soaring into the sky. Han shook his head. “Use your stabilizers!” he said, aloud.

He’s not ready, he thought dejectedly. I’ll probably never see the Falcon—or Lando—again.

Bria Tharen sat at her desk at the largest Imperial military base on Corellia, watching the screen of her datapad as she updated the food requisition lists for all troops stationed in the Corellian system. Her reddish-gold hair, which had grown into a long, curly mane during the past five years, was swept up in a smart, businesslike style, and she wore a crisp civilian support staff uniform—black jacket and skirt, with