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Nandreeson swiveled one eye and used it to stare at Iisner. “I prefer credits and glittering treasure. The equipment is a limited market. As soon as the buyer finds what he is searching for, or gets his own factories up and running, this sudden wealth will cease. And a whole group of overextended smugglers will need money again.” He smiled. “Perhaps we are jumping too soon at the vagaries of the market. Patience, my boy. Patience is the watchword of the wise.”

Iisner slipped deeper in the water and swam to the far side of the pond. The hump of his spine rose above the surface, and scales flaked off into the algae. “You’ve never struck me as particularly patient,” he said from the safety of his new position.

Nandreeson’s tongue shot out and scooped a mouthful of gnats. He roasted them with his breath and swallowed, a small, appetizing bite. He would need a large dinner.

“I’m patient,” he said. “I’m very patient. And the patience often pays off. Witness Calrissian.”

“Calrissian hasn’t been near the Run in seventeen years.”

Nandreeson swallowed the last gnat. His stomach rumbled. “But he will be here soon.”

“You don’t know that,” Iisner said.

Nandreeson swiveled his other eye. Iisner slipped into the water until only his eyes and the top of his head showed. “I do know that, and although I appreciate your counsel, I do not appreciate your doubts. Calrissian will be here because Solo is here.”

Iisner blew water through his nostrils. The piece of algae soared through the air and landed on the moss-covered rocks beside the pond. Then he rose enough to speak. “Solo and Calrissian are not partners. They have never traveled together. Before he married, Solo only traveled with the Wookiee.”

“You do not pay attention.” Nandreeson sank deeper into the warm water. The back of the poorly conditioned couch gave him a chill. “Since Calrissian lost Cloud City, he and Solo have joined forces during each Imperial threat.”

“So?”

“So?” Nandreeson popped a sulfur bubble under the water. It formed several other smaller bubbles that rose to the surface. “So, my dear Iisner, what has changed on the Run?”

Iisner’s mouth opened wide enough to swallow a whole shore of lily pads. “The Imperial equipment.”

“Precisely,” Nandreeson said. “And who in the New Republic knows how to find the Run, besides Solo and his Wookiee?”

“Calrissian.” Iisner breathed the word as if it were sacred. “You have a plan, don’t you?”

“Of course,” Nandreeson said. He smiled, and tongues of flame licked out of the corner of his mouth. “Although, in this case, I may not need one.”

Eighteen

Lando slowed the Lady Luck at the edge of the asteroid belt that housed Smuggler’s Run. If he went any farther, he would be within scanning range. They would know he was nearby. His burst of heroism suddenly seemed like an exercise in stupidity. He had avoided the Run for more than a decade. What made him think he could stroll in there now?

Alone.

All the good intentions in the galaxy wouldn’t save him from Nandreeson. And neither would an apology, or a promise to pay the Glottalphib back. What had seemed a point of pride years ago now seemed like pointless posturing. So he had managed to steal a cache from Nandreeson’s private storeroom. So he had braved the humid, stinky air, the slimy water, the treacherous lily pads. So he had held his breath for nearly four minutes, and pulled out, in the pocket of his wet suit, enough riches to fill his own stash for years.

The last of the money had disappeared when Vader forced him from Cloud City. Lando’s own definition of derring-do had changed since then, as well. It had meant more to him to succeed at the Battle of Endor than it had to best Nandreeson.

Since Lando had made a home among the Rebels, he had learned that his acts of pirate courage meant nothing when compared with Leia, for example, who had lost her home and her family and still managed to go on, without taking a breath. Or when compared with Luke facing evil in himself over and over again.

Or Han, thrusting himself into situations greater than he was, and