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She pressed farther back in the booth, narrowing the angle between Anakin and the human-looking attendant so she could see them both without moving her head. Anakin narrowed his blue eyes, leaning forward enough that a strand of hair fell across his forehead. He frowned.

“You look like the champion of the galaxy,” she whispered a warning.

He compressed his lips, irked.

Then he straightened several centimeters.

Mara slid a hand under her vest, getting a grip on her lightsaber. “Nothing?” she murmured.

“Nothing.”

Mara stretched out and double-checked Anakin’s pronouncement. The alleged human did feel like a shadow—a dead spot, an emptiness.

Anakin was already rising from the table.

“No,” Mara said sharply. “Not in the middle of a restaurant full of bystanders.”

“What do we do?” he demanded. “He’s going to get away.”

“Hardly. He’s working a shift. We finish our dinner.” Mara leaned against the mossy tabletop. “And before we move in, we see if he’s got reinforcements in the kitchen.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Randa lumbered into the Solos’ sleeping shelter. Han was out at the reservoir today, tinkering with something at the pumping station. Jacen had come back for a spare comlink.

Randa barely could fit into the open space between cots, but he tried.

“Bad enough,” he fumed, twitching the end of his tail away from the pile of belongings at the foot of Jacen’s cot, “that I cannot rush to my homeworld’s aid. But now, to be told I must subsist on the same ration allotment as one of the Ryn …” He drew up as tall as he could, puffing out his midsection. “Is my body type even remotely similar to those small, furred pests? My metabolism requires—”

“Not the same allotment.” Jacen slipped the comlink into a pocket and sat down on his cot, resting his back gingerly against the wall. Some of these buildings had been collapsed by rambunctious Ryn children. “The same percent of standard nutritional ration. If your metabolism is measured at three times a Ryn’s, you’ll be issued—”

“Not enough. I will waste, shrivel, atrophy. Already I am small for my age.” In the light of the shelter’s open door, Jacen saw Randa’s sunburstlike irises enlarge, narrowing the pupils to slits.

“Was there news from Nal Hutta, Randa? Have you heard, is your parent in danger?”

Bull’s-eye. Randa’s four-fingered hands opened and closed in frustration. “I have heard nothing,” he rumbled, “from my exalted parent.”

“I’m sorry,” Jacen attempted. “We—”

“The New Republic will not defend Nal Hutta,” Randa thundered. “It is sacrificing our world, just as it sacrificed Tynna and Gyndine. We were triaged. They are pulling their forces back toward Coruscant.” The mighty tail twitched again. “And those precious shipyards at Bilbringi.”

“Bothawui’s going to be threatened soon, too,” Jacen said flatly. Randa naturally expressed his concern as fear, which easily led to aggression. “We’re all in danger, Randa. The fleets are spread so thin—”

“Then why aren’t you out fighting, Jedi?” Randa clenched one stubby hand. “I watched a skillful Jedi kill a yammosk. You have talents beyond anything you are able to use here. Your family has done great things.”

“I have my own issues, Randa.” Jacen shook his head, suspicious of Randa’s flattery. He might not know Hutt sincerity if he heard it, but as for his family having done great things … well, Randa surely knew who strangled Jabba.

Randa wriggled closer to the shelter’s single window, on the opposite wall from the door. “If we could get to Coruscant, you and I could strike a blow that would make the Yuuzhan Vong regret ever coming to this galaxy. My clan has resources on a dozen worlds. We could afford to equip our own squadron, but sadly, fighters are not built for my people.”

Jacen tried to imagine a full-grown Hutt in an X-wing. The canopy wouldn’t even close!

He had loved flying an X-wing, though. That ship made him feel nimble, powerful, almost invincible.

“I hear you are an exceedingly good pilot.” Randa narrowed his huge black eyes and cleared his throat.

“My sister’s better.” Jaina! Three days