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As he stopped before her, Chewbacca, in one fluid motion, knelt and removed the quillarat from its bag. Careful of the quills, he balanced the animal across his palms and held it up to Mallatobuck. His heart was pounding as though he’d climbed all the way from ground level.

[Mallatobuck…] Chewie tried to get the rest of it out, but his voice failed him. He was overcome with fear, as he had never been in battle. What if she refused him? What if she took his traditional proposal-offering and tossed it off the trail, sending the dead quillarat, and his hope of happiness, plummeting into the depths?

Malla stared at him for a long moment. [Chewbacca … you have been long away from your people. Do you remember our customs? Do you know what you are offering?]

Relief flooded Chewie, for her tone was bantering, flirtatious.

[I know,] he replied. [My memory is good. In all the years I was gone, I never for a moment forgot your face, your strength, your eyes, Mallatobuck. I dreamed of the day that we could be married. Will you? Will you take me for your husband?]

She replied in the traditional manner by cautiously picking up the stiffening quillarat and taking a big bite out of its soft underbelly.

Chewie’s heart was flooded with joy. She accepts me! We are betrothed! Getting up off his knees, he followed Malla to a sheltered niche behind a screen of leaves. There they sat down close together and shared the quillarat, nibbling delicately on its tasty entrails, savoring its liver, feeding each other choice bits of this greatest of Wookiee delicacies.

[I had proposals, you know,] Mallatobuck said. [People told me I was foolish for waiting so long. They said you were dead, that you would never return to Kashyyyk. But I knew, somehow … I knew that was not so. I waited, and now my joy fills the world.]

Tenderly, Chewbacca licked blood and tissue off her face, washing her, as she returned the favor. Her fur was silky on his tongue.

[Malla … you know about the life debt I have pledged to Han Solo?] Chewie asked, as, sated, they sat back, arms around each other.

Mallas voice quivered just a tiny bit. [I know. I cherish your honor as my own, my husband-to-be. But let us be married quickly, so we may have as much time together as possible before you and Captain Solo must depart.]

[Nothing would please me more,] Chewie said. [How quickly can you be ready? How long will it take to prepare your wedding veil?]

She chuckled, a rich, throaty sound in the darkness. [It has been ready for fifty years, Chewbacca. Ready and waiting.]

Chewbacca’s heart was full of love and pride. [Tomorrow, then, Malla.]

[Tomorrow, Chewbacca.…]

Teroenza, High Priest of Ylesia, lounged back in his resting sling, watching Kibbick, Ylesia’s figurehead Hutt overlord, trying to go over last month’s accounts and make sense of them. The huge, four-legged t’landa Til groaned inwardly. He’d long since ceased to be amused by Kibbick’s troubles comprehending even the most rudimentary record-keeping. Kibbick was an idiot, and it was Teroenza’s unfortunate task to bring him up to speed on the running of Ylesia.

As though Besadii doesn’t realize that if Kibbick actually managed to master the skills necessary to keep the spice factories running smoothly, I would he out of a job, the High Priest thought disgustedly. But the chances of that are vanishingly small.…

When Teroenza, with the help of the Desilijic leader, Jiliac, had plotted Aruk the Hutt’s murder, he’d hoped that the aging Hutt Lord’s only offspring, Durga, would never be declared the head of Besadii clan. After all, Durga had that hideous birthmark, and that should, by rights, have disqualified him from any leadership position.

But Durga had proven stronger and more able than Teroenza had realized. He’d managed (some said with the help of Black Sun) to eliminate his most vocal detractors in a most summary fashion. There was still talk against him, but it was more of a cautious murmur these days than a protesting shout.

Teroenza had pinned his hopes