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Mako! Han groaned inwardly. His old friend from his Academy days would be having a wonderful time spreading this all over Nar Shaddaa. Jarik, why didn’t you warn me? he wondered, then he realized that the kid was so head-over-heels for that cute little thing he’d been seeing that he probably hadn’t even really listened to Salla.

“Salla,” he said, “this isn’t like you. We’ve never made any promises, any commitments. I mean, someday, maybe … but …”

She was smiling at him again—that smile that made him feel like a traladon on its way into the slaughterhouse. An all-knowing smile that said she wasn’t really listening. Desperate to communicate without really hurting her with the truth, Han reached out and took her hand across the table. “Salla, honey … we’ve never even said the word ‘love’ before. Are you tellin’ me that you love me enough to spend the rest of your life with me?”

Her amber eyes shifted, just slightly, then she nodded. “I know what I want, Han. You and me together, and an end to risking our lives hauling spice. We’ll be like Roa and Lwyll, and go off together to make a new life. An honest life. Maybe we’ll have kids someday.”

“But do you love me?” he asked, holding her eyes with his own.

“Sure,” she said. “Of course I do, Han. You know that.”

No, I don’t think I do, he thought, cynically. He hadn’t missed that slight shift of her eyes. He knew Salla was fond of him, cared for him, and had passion for him. But love?

“Anyway, you’ll see, this is the right decision, Han. We’re going to be really happy, and this will be the best wedding ever. We’ll have a great party afterward.”

Han didn’t miss the fact that she hadn’t asked him whether he loved her. She doesn’t want to know the answer, he realized.

For a moment it was on the tip of his tongue to say, “Salla, I don’t love you, and I don’t want to marry you.” But somehow he couldn’t quite get the words out. He didn’t want to break up with her, and that would certainly do it.

Han silently resolved to talk to Chewie, and maybe Lando about this, since Salla had already shot her mouth off. Maybe one of them would have some idea how to tell her “no” about the marriage, without losing her.

Han didn’t want to lose Salla, but he sure wasn’t getting married. Especially now, when he was on top of the smuggling heap, with the speedy Falcon as his very own! He had places to go, business to do, cargoes to haul, and there was fun to be had—fun that would be totally ruined if he was married. As far as the Corellian was concerned, getting married was tantamount to some unending Imp work detail. Han would hardly have been less dismayed to find himself sentenced to the spice mines of Kessel.

The next day he cornered Chewie in their apartment, and, while ZeeZee trundled back and forth, picking up things and putting them down again in the exact same spot, told him the whole story. His friend growled and moaned, shaking his head. “Whaddaya mean the way Salla’s actin’ reminds you of Wynni?” Han demanded. “Wynni can’t keep her paws off you, tries to seduce you every time we run into her. Salla ain’t like that. She just wants to get married.”

Chewbacca amplified on his previous statement.

Salla reminded him of Wynni because she wasn’t asking whether Han wanted her, she was just assuming that he did, and doing what she wanted. Marriage, the Wookiee pointed out, had to be something where both partners had an equal voice. Sometimes one partner might accede to the wishes of the other, but nobody should just assume they knew what was best and start making decisions for a couple.

Han’s brow furrowed. “Yeah, I see what you mean,” he muttered. “Salla ain’t askin’, she’s just takin’ it for granted that we’re gettin’ married.” He shook his head sadly. “Today she’s out shoppin’ for an outfit. She says ’cause I’m Corellian, she wants a traditional Corellian wedding. That means a green dress.”

Chewie shook his head and launched into a long peroration on females of any species who regarded males as prizes to be won. He cautioned Han that his sister, Kallabow, had decided in much