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“Oh, he knows,” Kueller said. “You sent him to me, didn’t you?”

“I warned him away from you.” Brakiss’s eyes widened even as the words left his mouth. He apparently hadn’t planned on telling Kueller that.

“Good,” Kueller said. “Skywalker is more apt to come to me now. You did well, Brakiss.”

“Well?” Brakiss sounded stunned.

“Yes,” Kueller said. “You did my work even better than I had hoped you would.”

“Th—then I can stay here?” Brakiss stammered like a small child. He loved the factory. It gave him a peace that Kueller found very useful.

“Is that what you want?” Kueller asked.

Brakiss nodded, slowly, as if he was afraid to reveal himself to Kueller.

“Then of course you can stay, Brakiss. You have served me well.”

“And you won’t send anyone else here?”

Kueller smiled. “No one else needs to come. Telti is yours, Brakiss. I will continue to subsidize it for you. And you will continue to work for me, as you always have. And we will never again discuss Skywalker, the academy, or Yavin 4. Is that what you want?”

“I want Skywalker to stay away.”

“You’ll always be alone there. Your Force talents will go to waste, but that will be your loss, Brakiss, not mine. Your usefulness is done.”

“And Skywalker?” Brakiss couldn’t seem to let it alone. Skywalker must have made an impression. More of an impression than Kueller was comfortable with.

“Skywalker is mine now,” Kueller said. “Soon he will bother no one ever again.”

Twenty-four

The Glottalphib smiled at Han. Smoke seeped between his long yellow teeth, narrowly missing the walls of the Falcon. “Well, General Solo,” he said. “We meet again.”

Han had to struggle to recall his name. “You’re outnumbered, Iisner.”

Chewie was still growling. His fur had stopped smoking, but there were missing patches where the flame the Glottalphib had used had burned through. His paws were up, just as Davis’s hands were. Seluss had scooted as close to the metal walls as he could get.

“I don’t think I’m outnumbered,” Iisner said. “One deep burst of flame and your friends here will be of no use to you. And while I fry them, I can turn my blaster on you. Imagine, a hero of the Rebellion forgetting his blaster.”

Han cursed. His blaster was in the cockpit.

“Such language, General Solo,” Iisner said. “And when I am here on a courtesy visit.”

Han kept his gaze on Iisner. He had to buy time. The Falcon was his ship; he would be able to get them all out of this if he only had a moment to think up a plan.

“It seems I’m always explaining manners to you,” Han said. “Threatening to kill my friends is not polite.”

“I merely do this to protect myself,” Iisner said. “My boss would not understand if you refused his invitation.”

Chewbacca slowly unsheathed his claws. Their tips touched the low ceiling. Han kept his features impassive, so that Iisner wouldn’t notice Chewie.

“What does Nandreeson want with me?”

Iisner breathed out slightly. Licks of flame caressed the gray scales near his nostrils. “He doesn’t want you, precisely. He is most interested in your position. He believes that he can help the New Republic.”

“Oh, he does, does he?”

Iisner nodded. “He has information that your people might find of value.”

Chewie inserted one claw between the wall and the door to a secret cargo hatch.

“What kind of information?” Han asked.

“Now, General Solo, if I knew that, I would tell you. But I am merely an assistant, an underling with no real power. I have been instructed to bring you to Skip 6—”

“And I told you before that I’ll meet Nandreeson on Skip 1.”

Chewie had inserted another claw. The process was painstakingly slow. Seluss had moved even closer to Chewie’s legs. Davis was watching Iisner’s blaster intently. If Chewie didn’t act quickly, Davis probably would. And then they would have a disaster.

“I must tell you the truth, General Solo.” Steam came out of Iisner’s mouth when he said, “Solo.” “Nandreeson does not like to travel to the other Skips. The accommodations are, shall we say, lacking?”

“I’m not asking him to sleep over,