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“Judder Page,” Han said, grinning as he approached. He scanned other faces in the crowd. “And Pash.”

Cracken nodded his head in greeting. “Rescued by celebrities. I’m positively humbled.”

Leia glanced at the blorash jelly and folded her arms across her chest. “We’re not out of this yet.”

Han squatted down in front of Captain Page. “If we’d known you were on Selvaris, we wouldn’t have left without you.”

Page shook his head in bafflement. “You were at Selvaris?”

“We picked up one of your escapees,” Han explained. “A Jenet.”

“Garban—Thorsh,” Cracken said in obvious relief.

“How else do you think we knew about the convoy?”

“Thank the Force,” Page mumbled.

“Wedge sends his regards,” Han said. “He says he’s sorry about Bilbringi, and even sorrier that rescuing you took as long as it did.”

Page mustered a smile. “I’m gonna kiss him when I see him.”

“I’d be careful about that,” Han said. “He might just send you back.”

Leia studied the blorash jelly. “We need to get you out of this.”

Hobyo dragged the stout Peace Brigader forward. “He knows how the stuff works.”

The man’s spice-clouded eyes darted to the captured Yuuzhan Vong officers and widened in fear. “You’ll have to kill me, ’cause if you don’t, they will.”

Leia went to him. “We’ll make you a better offer. We’ll take you with us. You’ll stand trial, serve time for your war crimes, be rehabilitated, and released in twenty years. Otherwise we leave you here and we give the Yuuzhan Vong every reason to believe that you were the one who tipped us off about the convoy. Maybe they won’t kill you right away. Maybe they’ll even take you with them. But you’re going to find it a lot harder to get glitterstim on Coruscant than in a Galactic Alliance prison. And you know how excruciating withdrawal can be.”

The human gulped and found his voice. “All right.” He nodded to the blorash pool. “Arsensalts.”

Han stepped close to Leia. “Your mind tricks are a lot more subtle than your brother’s.”

Leia smiled. “I win by guile.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

The strike troops searched their utility belts, broke open capsules of arsensalts, and began to sprinkle them over the pool. When Han and Leia had yanked Captain Page free of the liquefying mass, he walked directly to the netted Yuuzhan Vong and went down on his haunches in front of the one with the longest hair.

“Something you want to say to this one?” Han asked in interest. “ ’cause our droid speaks fluent enemy.”

C-3PO protested. “Captain Solo, I—”

“Not necessary, Han,” Page interrupted. “Malik Carr speaks fluent Basic. He was commander of the Selvaris camp. Has a particular fondness for subjecting prisoners and droids to immolation pits.”

Han proffered his blaster to Page. “No one here’ll think any the less of you.”

Page shook his head. “I know how important we were to Shimrra, and Malik Carr’s going to show up on Coruscant empty-handed.” He grinned. “He’ll get his due from his own kind—unless, of course, he kills himself in dishonor beforehand.”

A strike troop officer hurried into the hold. “Enemy reinforcements coming out of hyperspace. We need to move!”

The colonel looked baffled. “So soon?”

“The Vong must have gotten off a distress call, sir.”

“Have the transports docked?”

“One or two.”

Han stepped forward. “We can cram eighty or so aboard the Falcon.” He looked at the colonel. “Can you take the rest?”

“We’ll have to.”

“Captain Page,” Malik Carr called out. “I’ll live to see you on a sacrificial pyre before Yuuzhan’tar completes a quarter orbit round its star.”

Page approached him once more. “On the off chance we do meet again, keep this thought tucked into that warped brain of yours: fifty of my people died because of you, and the next time I won’t be nearly as charitable with you as I was here.”

In a mad dance, Jaina circled the stricken Yuuzhan Vong carrier, dueling coralskippers with each dive and traverse. The battle roles had been reversed. Now starfighter squadrons were the defenders and skips the aggressors, surging forward to harry and engage at every opportunity. Harona