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She’d turned over her blaster to Rion when she’d taken on this assignment. It wasn’t improbable that Admiral Trefaren would have her apartment searched as part of the background check he’d get his minions to perform, to ensure that she was “safe” for him to be seen with. Bria always kept the vibroblade with her, so she wasn’t worried about searchers finding it.

At least she knew her IDs would stand up to most security checks. Six years ago she’d learned all about establishing new identities from an expert. Han Solo had taught her much more than just how to fire a blaster effectively.

Her lips curved in a soft smile as she indulged herself in a moment of nostalgia for those days. She and Han had been on the run together, living on the edge, never knowing what would happen next.

Those had been the happiest days of her life, she realized now. It had been worth every tense moment, every jolt of fear, every mad chase, every terrified escape, every blaster bolt she’d had to duck to be with him … to be free to love him.

And she loved him still.

Seeing him on Devaron a year ago had brought it all back to her so vividly. After years of denial, Bria had had to admit the truth to herself. Han Solo was the man she loved, would always love.

But they couldn’t be together. She’d had to accept that. Han was a con man, a rogue, an outlaw who was out for himself. Bria knew he’d loved her deeply—he’d even asked her to marry him—but Han wasn’t the kind of man to forsake everything for a philosophical ideal.

During the months they’d spent together, Bria had sensed that someday he might have the potential to embrace a cause, give himself to a goal. But it would have to be a cause that he’d chosen for himself, in his own time. Bria knew she couldn’t expect him to adopt her cause.

She wondered what he was doing right now. Was he happy? Was he with somebody? Did he have friends? When she’d seen him on Devaron, he’d been wearing typically scruffy spacefarer’s garb—not an Imperial uniform.

But she’d heard he’d graduated from the Academy with honors. What could have happened to end his career?

On one hand, Bria was sorry that the dream he’d pursued so single-mindedly had obviously come to a crashing end, but on the other, she was glad to discover that Han was no longer an Imperial officer. It had tortured her to think that someday they might come face-to-face in battle, or, even worse, that she might give the order to fire on an Imperial ship and cause his death, all unknowing. At least she didn’t have to worry about that possibility anymore.

I wonder if I’ll ever see him again … she thought. Maybe … maybe when this is all over, when the Empire is no more …

Bria gave herself a mental shake, and told herself to get back to business. The Empire was firmly entrenched. Rooting it out would require many years, and the sacrifice of countless lives. She couldn’t let herself think about what might happen in the dim, distant future. She had to concentrate on the here and now.

Resolutely, she activated her datapad again, and went back to work.

At the same moment as Bria Tharen was wondering about him, Han Solo was not thinking about her. He was, however, feeling more wounded by a woman than he had at any time since Bria Tharen had left him.

He sat on the edge of the bed in a hotel room on Velga, a luxury moon where the wealthy came to be entertained and play games of chance, scowling and reading Xaverri’s message on his datapad. It said:

Dear Solo,

I can’t stand good-byes, so I’m not going to put either of us through one. The tour is over, and I’m off for a short rest before taking to the road again. I thought about asking you to go with me, but I think it’s better that I make a clean break now.

The last six months have been wonderful, among the best I can recall. During that time I’ve grown very fond of you, dear. Too fond. You know me by now … I can’t afford to get too fond of anyone. That would be dangerous for both of us. Caring too much about another person makes you soft,