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But he was old, blast it, and at his age, he should be allowed to do just as he liked—which included smoking, eating what he wanted, and not exercising. And … not reading incomprehensible financial reports.

Aruk resolved to turn the financial report over to Durga. Time the youngster began taking some of the load off his parent’s shoulders.

The aging Hutt Lord took another nala-tree frog to savor, then, with a sigh, he closed his bulbous eyes for a delightful afternoon nap …

“All right, you sentients, settle down!” roared Mako Spince. His amplified voice resounded off the walls of the large auditorium at The Chance Castle where Han had first seen Xaverri perform. The hotel-casino had generously donated the space, when Mako had called a meeting of representatives from every enclave, both humanoid and nonhumanoid, on Nar Shaddaa. “I said, settle down!”

Slowly the crowd quieted. Mako waited until he had their full attention, then he said, “Okay, guys. I’m no politician, so I don’t know how to make a speech. The best I can do is just tell you the facts as we know ’em. Okay?”

The crowd indicated their approval of Mako’s words with a muted buzz of applause. In the front of the crowd, a Gotal yelled, “Go on, Mako!”

“Okay.” Mako held up his right hand, and used his left to tick off points on his fingers as he spoke. “Fact number one. Fellow sentients and inhabitants of Nar Shaddaa … we are in a world of trouble. Within a week, a squadron of Imperial vessels is going to be dispatched from Teth, sent by our own beloved Moff, Sarn Shild. This squadron has orders to wipe us out. Not give us a bloody nose, or destroy some of our ships. I mean they’re going to do their best to see that no more smuggling happens out of Nar Shaddaa—ever. The place will be a smoking ruin.”

A murmur of fear ran through the auditorium as the assembled smugglers tried to assimilate Mako’s words.

“Fact number two,” Mako went on, “we’re on our own for this one, folks. The Hutts have just spent a bundle of credits installing brand-new planetary defense shields so they can hide behind ’em on Nal Hutta, while the Imp fleet uses up their ammo on us. The Hutts have, by report, hired a small fleet of mercs to come in and help defend them, but their primary strategy is just to let the Imps have Nar Shaddaa, and hope that’ll satisfy ’em.”

Boos, hisses, and catcalls of all kinds filled the space, drowning Mako out. The smugglers howled their rage, their threats, their anger at the Hutts. It was nearly five minutes before Mako could make himself heard again.

“Yeah, yeah! It makes me mad, too, friends, but what can you do? They’re Hutts, so whaddaya expect, folks? But anyway that’s the point. Whatever we do about this, it’s our call. The slugs ain’t gonna help us out.”

Grumbling, the crowd subsided.

“Okay, fact three. We ain’t exactly helpless, fellow sentients. We have it on good authority that the Imp squadron doesn’t include anything with super-heavy firepower. No Star Destroyers. That’s good news for us. That means we can fight back!”

Mutters of consternation swelled, mingled with yells of determination: “Yeah! We’ll fight! We’ll kick their butts! We wanna fight! Those Imps can’t shoot for sour trig-berries! We ain’t running from a bunch of Imps! We’ll make ’em sorry they attacked us!”

Mako grinned. “Hey, fellow sentients, my thoughts exactly. I intend to fight this fleet, and if it’s just me out there in my one ship, so be it. Nobody is wiping me out without a fight! Nobody!”

This time, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. “Yeah! Mako! You lead us, Mako! Yeah, we’ll fight!”

Mako motioned for quiet. “All right, those who want to fight, raise their hands, or paws or tentacles or whatever you got. Those who don’t wanna fight—I suggest you take your belongings and your families and head out right now. It’s gonna get dicey around here, real soon.”

Han, who was watching from the wings of the stage, was surprised to see that the vast majority of