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“But you do, Han. That’s all I’m trying to tell you. Let go of your anger and bitterness and you will see Chewie.”

Han opened his mouth and closed it. He spun on his heels and hurried up the ramp only to stop and reverse directions again. “I’m not ready to walk this plank,” he grated as he passed Luke.

“Han!” Leia shouted.

He turned, but looked through her at Jaina. “Take the Falcon back to Coruscant.”

Jaina’s eyes widened. She swallowed hard and stammered, “But what about you?”

“I’ll find my own way back,” he yelled over his shoulder as he marched off.

In the command center of Harrar’s faceted ship, a bio-engineered quadruped the size of an Ewok was meandering about the confines of the inhibition field, employing its long snout as a vacuum to rid the area of the carcasses of the carriers birthed by the assassin’s toxic exhalation. The dead captives—along with the body of their assassin—had yet to be removed.

Harrar and Nom Anor stood at the perimeter of the field, watching the creature at work. Elan and Vergere had left the compartment.

“Much hinges on the success of this plan,” Harrar remarked.

“More than you know,” Nom Anor agreed. “Ever since Prefect Da’Gara’s failure at Helska, I am not held in the esteem I once was.”

“I have faith in you, Executor.”

Nom Anor inclined his head in thanks. “Do you think Elan will elect to die with the Jedi, or take her chances that the New Republic will spare her life?”

“I suspect she will die with the Jedi.”

“And that doesn’t trouble you? After all, her domain is very powerful. Her father has the ear of Supreme Overlord Shimrra, does he not?”

“He is a high priest,” Harrar said, then sighed with purpose. “Only Elan can carry this task to fruition. I will lament her death. But it’s often necessary to sacrifice the bait to ensnare the quarry.”

FIVE

The Millennium Falcon put verdant Kashyyyk behind her. Jaina and Leia sat side by side in the outrigger cockpit, with C-3PO, quieter than usual, behind them in the navigator’s chair. At Streen’s unexpected request, Luke was taking everyone else to Yavin 4. Jaina might have gone along, but Leia had said she didn’t want to pilot the Falcon home alone.

While the navicomputer calculated lightspeed coordinates for the jump to Coruscant, Jaina glanced at her mother, who looked small and fragile in the oversize seat Chewie had occupied for so many years. She had scarcely said a word since lifting off from platform Thiss.

“Not often I get to fly Dad’s ship,” Jaina said casually, hoping to open a conversation.

Leia reacted as if she had been yanked from a trance. “What?”

“I said I was surprised Dad asked me to fly the Falcon home.”

Leia smiled at her. “Record holder at Lando’s Folly … Rogue Squadron pilot … Your father thinks very highly of your skills.”

Jaina was quiet for a moment. “I hope he gets home all right.”

Leia laughed. “Don’t worry, he’ll hop a freighter or a trader’s ship and probably beat us back to Coruscant. He doesn’t need help in that area.”

“Or any other area,” Jaina said, frowning.

Leia made her lips a thin line and took her daughter’s hand. “Don’t confuse refusing help with not needing it.”

“Why is he like that?”

“How much time do we have?” Leia joked. “The short answer is that your father wasn’t raised the way you and I were. He didn’t have the support of a family or the comfort of a stable home.” She shook her head. “He’s been so many things—a swoop racer, a pilot, an officer in the Imperial Navy, a smuggler—but all those occupations have one thing in common: they require extreme self-reliance and a certain amount of aloofness. He didn’t grow up accustomed to getting help, so he’s certainly not about to ask for it.”

“But he’s been acting like he’s the only one who misses Chewie.”

“He knows that isn’t true, and he’s aware of how he’s been acting. When he and I returned to Sernpidal after Chewie died, he told me he suddenly felt that the world had become unsafe—that he’d always thought of our family and close friends