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Mara had ignored Lando for most of the journey to Coruscant. She had rebuffed his attempts to prepare dinner, find musical selections for her, and engage her in conversation. Now as she watched them playing cards to settle a dispute over the ownership of the Falcon, she scowled as if they were no more than two little boys scuffling in a child’s amusement pen.

Lando took the pack of glittering metallic cards so that the crystalline faces showed and held them toward Mara. “My lady, would you care to cut the cards?”

“No,” she said, “I would not.”

“I’m getting tired of this, Lando,” Han said. “First I won the Falcon from you in a sabacc game on Bespin, then you won her back from me in the diplomatic lounge on Coruscant, and I won her back from you en route to Calamari. Enough is enough. This is our last hand.”

“Fine with me, old buddy,” Lando said, and started dealing the cards.

“No rematches,” Han said.

“No rematches,” Lando agreed.

“Whoever wins this time keeps the Falcon from now on.”

“You got it,” Lando said. “The Millennium Falcon belongs to the winner to do with as he pleases. No more borrowing, no more arguing.”

Han nodded. “Loser gets a lifetime of Coruscant public transport.” He picked up his cards. “Shut up and play.”

Han tossed down the cards that had betrayed him and stood up to hide the devastating sense of loss coursing through him. He felt as if his heart had been crumpled like a piece of discarded paper and then stuffed back into his chest. “Go ahead and gloat, Lando.”

Cool-faced, Mara Jade had watched the entire game with less indifference than she pretended to show. Now she scowled as if she expected Lando to stand up and cheer in triumph. Han anticipated the same reaction.

Halfway to his feet, Lando stopped and calmed himself, straightening in a dignified fashion. “That’s it,” he said in a slow, rich voice. “End of game. We’ll never play for the Falcon again.”

“Yeah,” Han said in a barely audible voice, “that’s what we agreed.”

“And the Falcon is mine, to do with as I please,” Lando said.

“Go ahead and gloat,” Han said, again, using sarcasm to mask his own despair. He kicked himself for being lured into another stupid game. He had been an idiot, with nothing to gain, and now he had lost everything. “I should have known better than to play with you.”

“Just like vornskyrs hissing at each other in a territorial dispute,” Mara said, shaking her head. Her exotic spice-colored hair hung to one side. She did nothing to make herself look attractive, yet somehow it worked to her advantage.

Lando glanced at Mara, then turned partly aside as if ignoring her. With a grand flourish he spread his hands wide and gestured to Han.

“But since you’re my friend, Han Solo, and since I know that the Falcon means even more to you than she does to me”—Lando paused for effect and stole another glance at Mara Jade before continuing—“I choose to give the Millennium Falcon back to you. A gift from me to you. A testimony to our years of friendship, and all that we’ve been through together.”

Han collapsed back into his chair, feeling his knees turn weak and watery. His throat shriveled, and he opened and closed his mouth several times, completely at a loss for what to say.

“I’m going to the food-prep units,” Lando said gallantly. “If Han will let me adjust the programming, I’ll see if I can prepare the finest repast your units can manufacture, and we’ll all have a nice meal together.”

Han felt too stunned to argue, and Lando didn’t wait for an answer. He cast a second look back at Mara Jade as he went toward the galley.

Still in shock, Han saw her raise her eyebrows and look after him with a surprised and mystified smile, as if completely reassessing her opinion of Lando Calrissian—which, Han concluded, must have been Lando’s plan all along.

31

The Hammerhead Momaw Nadon arranged for Wedge Antilles and Qwi Xux to go sight-seeing across the pristine Ithorian landscape in an open-air skimmer. On the transit landing platform, the dazzling morning sky was a pale whitish purple with high