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“Not this day,” Han said, lowering his voice even further. “But not just sabacc. We’ll make it random sabacc.”

Lando raised his eyebrows, but met Han’s gaze stare for stare. “Who’s going to keep track of the plays?”

Han jerked his chin to the side. “We’ll use Threepio as our modulator. Goldenrod doesn’t have enough brains to cheat.”

“But, sir, I really don’t have the programming to—” Threepio said.

Han and Lando snapped in unison, “Shut up, Threepio!”

“All right, Han,” Lando said, “let’s do it before you lose your nerve.”

“You’re going to lose more than nerve before this game is over,” Han said.

As Lando set up the cards and the sabacc table, Han Solo ushered the last of the off-duty bureaucrats toward the door of the small lounge. “Out. Come on! We need to use this place for a while.”

They grumbled and objected in a variety of languages, but Han assisted them through the entryway with gentle shoves. “File a complaint with the New Republic.” Then he closed and sealed the door, turning to Lando. “You ready yet?”

This was far different from the stuffy, smoke-filled parlors where he used to play sabacc, such as the underground game where he had once won a planet for Leia in an attempt to buy her affections.

At the sabacc table Lando spread out a handful of rectangular cards with crystalline screens sandwiched between metal layers. “Ready when you are, buddy.” But he looked uneasy. “Han, we don’t really have to do this—”

Han sniffed the air, frowning at the cloying smells of deodorizing mists and ambassadorial perfumes. “Yes, I do. Leia’s been in an accident on one of her diplomatic missions, and I want to escort her back home, not some hospital ship.”

“Leia’s hurt?” Lando said, standing up in surprise. “So that’s what has been bothering you. Forget it, take the ship. I was just kidding anyway. We’ll do this some other time.”

“No! We do it now, or you’ll never be off my case. Threepio, get in here. What’s taking so long?” Han said.

The golden droid scooted in from the back-room computer station, looking flustered, as usual. “I’m here, Master Solo. I was just reviewing the sabacc-rules programming.”

Han punched his selections into the console of the bartender droid, smiling as he selected a fruity, prissy drink for Lando—complete with a blue tropical flower as a garnish—and a spiced ale for himself. He sat down, slid the drink across the surface to Lando, and sipped his ale.

Lando took a swallow of the mixture, winced, and forced a smile. “Thanks, Han. Should I deal?” He held the sabacc cards in his hand, leaning over the table’s projecting field.

“Not yet.” Han held up a hand. “Threepio, double-check to make sure those card surfaces are completely randomized.”

“But, sir, surely—”

“Just do it. We want to make sure nobody gets an unfair advantage—don’t we, old buddy?”

Lando managed to retain his forced smile as he handed the deck to Threepio, who ran the cards through a scrambler at the side of the table. “They are completely mixed, sir.”

Threepio meticulously dealt five of the flat metallic cards each to Lando and to Han. “As you know, this is random sabacc, a combination of variant forms of the game,” Threepio said, as if reciting the programming he had just uploaded. “There are five different sets of rules, shifted by chance, and changed at random time intervals as determined by the computer’s random generator—that’s me!”

“We know the rules!” Han growled, but he wasn’t so certain. “And we also know the stakes.”

Lando’s deep, flinty eyes met his across the table. “Winner takes the Falcon. Loser takes Coruscant public transit from now on.”

“Very well, sirs,” Threepio said, “activate your cards. The first player to reach a score of one hundred points will be declared the winner. Our first round will be played according to …” He paused briefly as his randomizing function made a selection from the scrambled list of rules. “—Cloud City Casino alternate rules.”

Han stared at the images appearing on his cards as his mind raced to remember how Cloud City Casino