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“Sir … that’s my objective,” she said, her heart beginning to thud.

“I know that. I just … thought you should know. We’re dispatching several intelligence teams to Ralltiir to try and find out more. They’ll need credits for bribes, surveillance equipment … you know the drill.”

“Of course,” Bria said. “Sir, I won’t fail you.”

“I know you won’t,” Torbul said. “I shouldn’t have contacted you, perhaps … you’re under enough pressure. But I thought you should know.”

“I appreciate your telling me, sir. Thank you.”

Torbul gave her a quick salute and broke the connection. Bria sat there in her office, wondering if she should go back to bed, or just start the day early.

She heard Han’s voice, a little rough with sleep, from the other room. “Bria? Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Han,” she called. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Rising, she paced slowly back and forth, remembering what he’d said to her earlier. They’d be together … always. Yes, we will, she thought. We’ll be together. We’ll guard each other’s backs, and together we’ll fight and we’ll prevail against the Empire. And if we have to sacrifice to achieve that … we will.

She knew that Han would understand about the treasure and the credits. He pretended to be such a mercenary, but at heart, he wasn’t, she knew that.…

Her mind once more at rest, her resolve firm, Bria went back to bed.…

Sunset at Ylesian Colony Five. The ruddy rays of the low sun, breaking through a hundred gaps in the massed clouds, were projected as pastel spikes across the sky. By the choppy waters of the Sea of Hope, the robe-clad Pilgrims assembled on the beach cast long shadows across the sand.

Pohtarza, Head Sacredot of the colony, raised his ugly t’landa Til head and surveyed the crowd, his horn sweeping slowly back and forth as he did so. His bulbous eyes shone like blood as they bulged from his grayish, wrinkled flesh. After a moment, he brought up his diminutive arms, and the ceremony began.

“The One is All,” he intoned in the rumbling, nasal-heavy language of the t’landa Til.

Five hundred voices echoed the phrase back.… The One is All.

At that very moment, at Colony Four on the other side of the planet, it was just after midnight. Dark clouds drifted across the moonless night sky, extinguishing stars, making the night even blacker. On the wall of the Priests’ Quarters, there was a soft, chitinous scratching. Ylesian vermin frantically darted away in all directions.

Noy Waglla, small and bug-like herself, scuttled up the smooth permacrete and, barely pausing to chew a hole in the grating, through the window. She crouched, poised, on the sill.

Below her, in the darkness, she could hear the sleeping noises of the Priests she had come to kill. Jabba would pay well for this, enough that she might someday be able to return to her own species. The great creatures in their sleeping harnesses filled the small room, made it stink of musk. The Hyallp crawled up the nearest rough-textured harness, and paused below the enormous head. The t’landa Til shifted slightly, and she backed away, alarmed, but, after a moment, the Priest’s snoring resumed. Waglla advanced even closer.

This is going to be easy.… Waglla seized the large vial strapped to her back in her formidable mandibles, pulled out the stopper with her palps. Jabba had tested the substance himself. A drop of the poison called srejptan, placed on the Sacredot’s lower lip, would kill even the largest t’landa Til in seconds, silently and without struggle. Retracting several of her legs, Waglla climbed toward the Priest’s mouth.

“The All is One,” intoned Pohtarza.

The All is One.

Aiaks Fwa, Whiphid assassin and bounty hunter, waited in the corridor leading to the underground mud baths of Colony Seven. It had been a tedious few weeks, living as Pilgrim, trying to blend in, when all his instincts called for getting it over with, hunting the ugly muphrida down and escaping. But the Bloated One had specified tonight