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She studied him for a long moment, her anger fading. In the back, Jump’s whimpers faded as the thug was led out the back way by his friends. “Maybe,” she said. Sticking out a gauntleted hand, she said, “Salla Zend.”

“Han Solo.” They shook, then Han threw a leg over the nearest bar stool. “What are you drinking?”

Salla sat down, too. “Mad Mrelf, straight up.”

“Right,” said Han, carefully not showing any reaction to the strong liquor. He wouldn’t have drunk Mad Mrelf on a bet—tales abounded of spacers who had gone on a Mad Mrelf spree, and wound up in Imp labor camps—or worse.

They talked, and Han discovered that Salla was also a smuggler, newly come to Nar Shaddaa. “I’ve got a ship,” she said. “The Rimrunner. But it needs some work. I’ve got some modifications I’d like to make.”

“Hey,” Han said, “do I know a place for you. My ship’s getting some work done, too. The guy’s a real wizard. Name of Shug Ninx.”

“I’m a pretty good mechanic myself,” Salla said. “I’d like to meet your friend.”

“I’m going back to work on the Bria tomorrow morning,” Han said. “If you like, why not meet me tomorrow, and we can go over to Shug’s spacebarn together?”

She gave him a measuring glance, then smiled, a slow, amused smile. “I’ve got a better idea,” she said. “You come home with me tonight. Can you cook?”

Han’s eyes widened. Well! Talk about being direct!

He smiled back at her, his slow, lopsided grin. He could tell that even Salla wasn’t immune to its effects—or maybe it was the drink. “Sure,” he said. “One of my best friends was a cook.”

Salla laughed. “Hey, Solo, give a girl a break and turn off the charm. Want to break my heart?”

“No,” Han said, reaching out to touch the back of her hand with one finger, “I want to fix you dinner. Sounds like a great plan to me. You like traladon steaks?”

“Sure,” she said lightly. “Rare.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Han promised.

When they finished their drinks, they went out into the squalid Nar Shaddaa street. Salla hooked her arm through Han’s. “I’m glad I found you. I burn water, so I don’t even try cooking anymore. I love the prospect of a home-cooked dinner.”

Han smiled at her again, putting every bit of charm he possessed into it. “Dinner it is. Then maybe … breakfast?”

She laughed and shook her head. “You are a rogue, aren’t you!”

“I try,” Han said modestly.

“Well, don’t push your luck, honey,” she warned, smiling to let him know she wasn’t offended. “I can take care of myself.”

Remembering how Salla had handled Jump, Han had to agree. He nodded, and resolved to back off … for the moment.

Over the next few weeks, Han and Salla continued to see each other, and their relationship developed and grew closer. By the time they’d been dating for a month, Han was fixing her breakfast, and everyone recognized them as a couple.

They had a lot in common, and Han enjoyed the time they spent together. She was an exciting, vibrant woman, smart, sensual, and direct. As Han got to know her better, he discovered she did have a tender side, though it didn’t surface often.

Han introduced Salla to Shug, and the two of them hit it off immediately, too, though not romantically. It turned out that Salla was an expert technician, more at home with a lasertorch than most smugglers. She told them she’d been a tech on a corporate transport before she’d managed to acquire Rimrunner. Salla occasionally ran spice, but her cargo of choice was weapons. She was an expert gunrunner, fearless and efficient.

Soon Salla was a regular at Shug’s spacebarn, where all the smugglers hung out, fixing their ships, swapping stories, and vying with each other to set new performance records. Han found that, sooner or later, most of the human smugglers, and many of the non-humans, wound up at Shug’s spacebarn. Many of his pals from Smuggler’s Run appeared, even, on one notable occasion, Wynni.

Zeen and Kid, a smuggler and thief named Rik Duel, Sinewy Ana Blue, Roa and Mako … all of them had good times at Shug’s spacebarn. Shug had only three rules: no intoxicants of any kind, pay