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Sair Yonka let himself into the cottage and nearly dropped the magnum of Mandalorean Narcolethe he’d brought to share with Aellyn. The door clicked shut behind him, muffling the sound of the repulsor limo’s departure—not that he could have heard it past the thunder of his heartbeat in his ears. He had enough presence of mind to prevent his jaw from dropping open and instead crafted a smile that flashed white teeth at her.

Though neither as tall or slender as he was, Aellyn shared with him black hair. She wore hers long, so it descended well past her shoulders and lay gently along the swelling of her breasts. The gown she wore had been woven of a wispy fiber that had been dyed a midnight blue. It covered her from thin shoulder straps down to her ankles and glowed electrically where the light hit it, yet proved sheer enough to tantalize him with visions of what it sheathed. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief, promising much and summoning most pleasurable memories to his consciousness.

The slight breeze from the garden brought the scent of flowers to his nose and teased playfully with the skirts of her gown. Her glance darted toward the open doors and the darkness beyond. Yonka fondly recalled having made love with her in the garden, beneath the canopy of stars and the trio of Elshandruu Pica’s moons. His smile broadening, he set the Narcolethe on the side table next to the door and extended his hand toward her.

For a half second, primarily because the dark blue of the armor matched perfectly the color of Aellyn’s gown, the two blaster-toting figures entering through the garden doorway seemed appropriate. Only when Aellyn opened her mouth to scream and the second figure shot her did he realize they were not part of any surprise Aellyn had cooked up for him. Even so, the blue hue of the stun shot that hit her still seemed somehow in keeping with the theme of the evening.

Yonka raised his hands. He heard the comlink clipped to the leader’s faceplate buzz, but he could make out none of the words. The man nodded, then reached up and removed his helmet. Despite the sweat pasting brown locks to the intruder’s forehead and the edges of his face, Yonka immediately recognized the man. It can’t be …

Yonka felt his chest tighten, yet fought to keep his voice even. “You needn’t have had her shot, Antilles.”

“Wouldn’t do to have witnesses, would it?” Wedge nodded toward her without letting his blaster waver from Yonka’s direction. “We could have killed her, but unnecessary bloodshed is not something we revel in. In fact, we don’t like it at all.”

Eliminate me, and you assume my ship won’t function at all well. Yonka found himself flattered, but he was too much of a realist to allow vanity to lift his spirits. “One man does not mean much on a starship.”

Wedge smiled. “You underestimate your worth, Captain Yonka. Like it or not, as you go, so goes the Avarice.”

“Killing me will only have a minor effect on the Avarice.”

“I agree, Captain Yonka.”

“Yet you have come to kill me.”

“Kill you?” Wedge shook his head. “I’ve come to offer you a deal.”

Yonka blinked in amazement. “Deal? What kind of deal?”

Antilles positively beamed. “A deal that starts with making you a very rich man.”

30

Fliry Vorru strode slowly down the ramp from the belly of his Lambda-class shuttle then stopped midway as he saw Erisi Dlarit waiting for him at the edge of the landing pad. She wore a smile that seemed inviting, though her blue eyes seemed focused distantly, well beyond him. He found both her smile and presence pleasing, but his natural wariness prevented him from drawing any true enjoyment from either.

He nodded in her direction and began walking again, this time not fighting gravity but allowing it to make his step more brisk and lively. “Commander Dlarit, so nice of you to greet me.”

Erisi easily returned his nod. “My pleasure, Minister Vorru.”

Vorru matched her smile. “Did I detect a hint of wistfulness in your