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Wedge looked as if that was indeed what he wanted to do. “No, it’s all right,” he said bravely. “I can protect you. Don’t worry.”

They landed on the pad indicated, and Wedge extended the passenger ramp. He climbed down the gangway first and reached up to take Qwi by the hand, leading her gently down. She could easily have disembarked by herself, but she enjoyed the attention he showered on her.

Surrounding the space yacht were wide-boled gray-barked trees with low branches that spread out to form a long, flat platform. Brilliant white and blue flowers spangled the leaves. Staring around her, Qwi took a deep breath of the moist air. Everything smelled fresh and alive, filled with a symphony of scents that startled her imagination.

“Greetings.” Qwi turned to see an exceedingly strange-looking alien hulking toward them, flanked by two ten-year-old human boys. The hunchbacked alien wore a white cape trimmed with braid. Its head looked like a long ladle, as if someone had taken a face made of soft clay and stretched it into an S-curve, looping the front up and yanking out two eye stalks. The mouth was hidden far under the sloping canopy of its head. As Qwi watched, the cumbersome-looking creature took steps forward with a gentle, careful grace.

The two human boys beside the creature wore similar white capes, over bright-green jumpsuits. Pale-haired and blue-eyed, both wore beatific expressions, but neither of them spoke.

Wedge must have seen how startled Qwi was by the alien’s appearance. “I guess I should have warned you. The Ithorians are commonly called Hammerheads.”

Qwi nodded slowly, thinking about other strange creatures she had seen, from the fish-faced Admiral Ackbar to the tentacle-headed Tol Sivron who had run Maw Installation. Perhaps not all intelligent creatures in the galaxy could be as attractive as some humans … such as Wedge.

“Actually,” the alien said, stepping closer, “we dislike the name Hammerheads. It seems deprecating to us.”

“My apologies, sir,” Wedge said, bowing slightly.

“I am Momaw Nadon, and I am honored to be of service to you, Wedge Antilles and Qwi Xux.”

Wedge took one step back in panic. “How do you know our names?” he said.

Momaw Nadon made a hollow bubbling sound that came from both sides of his mouth in a stereophonic echo. “Mon Mothma asked me to give you special accommodations.”

“Why would Mon Mothma tell you we were coming here?” Wedge said. “We’re supposed to be keeping a low profile.” As Nadon gave a slight bow, his ladle-shaped head see-sawed up and down. “I have sympathized with the Rebel Alliance since my days of exile on Tatooine, more than a decade ago. My people banished me to the desert planet, where I could tend the sands rather than our beautiful forests. The Empire had demanded certain agricultural information, and I gave it to them to save our forests from being obliterated—but still my people exiled me. I returned here after the Emperor’s death, and I have continued to make amends ever since.”

Nadon gestured to the two human boys. “Take their luggage. We will show them their staterooms.”

The youths moved in unison—without the pell-mell franticness of young boys—entering the space yacht and returning with the slick silvery containers of vacation clothes.

Nadon led them away from the landing bay, ducking his head under the low-hanging branches that surrounded the landing pad. The passage seemed like a living green tunnel.

“I was also in the cantina in Mos Eisley when Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi first met Captain Solo. I did not know my brush with history at that time, but I remember it clearly, though I was preoccupied with … other concerns at the time.”

“I’m amazed you could recall a meeting like that after so many years,” Wedge said.

Nadon indicated a disguised turbolift that opened like a great leafy pod in the wall. They all stepped inside and began to descend deeper within the Tafanda Bay.

After a long pause Nadon finally said, “Ithorians have