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“Caluula, you say.”

“Distant from Yuuzhan’tar, Great Lord, but vital to our ultimate designs.”

Shimrra looked to Jakan, then the seers, who nodded.

“Let it be done.”

TWELVE

“The damage looks much worse from out here,” C-3PO said, staring up at the belly of Millennium Falcon from the foot of the landing ramp.

Han glared at him from under the ship, where he, Leia, and a Caluula Station mechanic were compiling a list of needed repairs. “Who asked you, Threepio?”

The protocol droid adopted a posture of inquisitiveness. “No one, Captain Solo. I was only remarking—”

“Threepio,” Leia cut him off. “That’s enough for now.”

“Of course, Princess Leia. I know when I’m not wanted.”

“That’ll be the day,” Han said.

Cracken, Page, and the rest of the rescued officers were standing off to one side, fielding questions from several other Caluula mechanics, who had dropped what they were doing to surround the Falcon the moment she had settled on her landing disks.

The ship was blistered, dented, and punctured.

“She’s a storyboard for the whole war,” the mechanic said.

Han nodded. “You got that right.”

The mechanic wedged his forefinger into a hole in the underside of the outrigger cockpit. “I’ll bet this one’s not half a meter from the pilot’s chair.”

Han swallowed audibly. “I’ve had closer calls.”

Leia glanced at the mechanic. “You might have heard, he’s a regular moving target.”

The mechanic grinned and clapped grit from his hands. “Well, she’s taken a bruising, but I figure she’ll live. It’s just a matter of pulling together replacement parts.”

Han looked relieved. He had his mouth open to thank the mechanic when a tall, purple-complected humanoid wearing military utilities approached him.

“Welcome aboard Caluula Station, Captain Solo.”

Before Han could reply, a silver-haired human officer stepped in and saluted him.

“Captain Solo, sir. I was with you at Endor.”

Han thought for a moment. “Uh, Denev, right?”

The man beamed. “I’m proud that you remember me, sir.”

“Likewise, Captain.”

Leia folded her arms across her chest and stared at Han. “That’s the tenth person who’s recognized you. What is this, a gathering of your fan club?”

Han frowned at her. “Very funny.”

“No, really, Han. Maybe you should have become an actor instead of a war hero. Just think of the following you’d have.”

Han grabbed hold of his own chin. “You’d pay good credits to see this face blown up a hundred times normal size?”

Leia pretended to think about it. “When you put it that way …”

“Captain Solo,” someone said.

Walking briskly toward the Falcon was a portly but energetic human major general.

“Base Commander Garray,” the man said, extending his hand to Han.

Han shook hands and gestured to C-3PO and Leia. “Our droid, and my wife, Leia Organa Solo.”

Leia elbowed him gently in the ribs. “Thanks for second billing, darling,” she said through a clench-jawed smile.

Han caressed his ribs and eyed Leia. “The droid’s generally well behaved.” He indicated Page, Cracken, and some of the others, introducing them by name.

Garray nodded his head several times. “Glad to meet all of you.” His gray eyes returned to Han. “Captain Solo, please tell me Mon Cal command sent you.”

Han compressed his lips. “Wish I could, Commander. The truth is, we got hit hard during a rescue mission at Selvaris, and Caluula was the only place the Falcon could go.”

Garray’s obvious disappointment was fleeting. “We’re proud to have you on board, regardless—all of you.” He turned to his even more portly adjutant. “Chief, see that Captain Solo’s passengers are treated for injuries and well fed.”

The adjutant saluted. “If you’ll follow me, sirs,” he said to Cracken and the others.

Han kept silent until everyone had moved off. “What’s the situation here, Commander?”

Garray tilted his head to one side. “Take a walk with me, and I’ll explain.”

He led Han, Leia, and C-3PO on a slow tour of the docking bay, in the strobing light of arc welders, past technicians and soldiers who looked every bit as scarred and patched up as the ships they