Reaching Lady Lawal's table, Lando bowed to her, flashing his best, most charming smile. "May I?" he asked, holding out his arm.

She hesitated for a long second, glanced at each of the men sitting with her, then shrugged fractionally. "Thank you," she said, and stood up. Lando escorted her out to the dance floor. She looked around her and frowned slightly in consternation. "Oh, dear. I'm afraid I don't know how to do this one."

Lando was surprised. The margengai-glide had been popular for at least five years. "It's easy," he said, putting his hand on her shoulder, and interlacing his fingers with hers. "I'll show you."

She missed several steps right off, and brought her heeled evening slipper down on his toes once, but after a couple of minutes, and Lando's experienced coaching, Bria began to catch on. Her sense of timing was good, and so were her reflexes. Once she'd memorized the in-tricate pattern of the steps, she began to enjoy herself, Lando could tell. She was nearly as tall as he was, and as they moved around the dance floor, they began to re-ceive tile admiring glances of the onlookers still seated at the tables.

"Good, you've got it," Lando said. "You're a natural." "I haven't danced in years," she confessed, a little breathless, as the music changed to a fast number. Lando whirled her into a boxnov three-step. She was a little rusty, but it was obvious that the older dance was one she'd done before.

"You're wonderful," he a.s.sured her. "I'm the luckiest man on this ship, finding a partner like you."

She gave him a brilliant smile, her cheeks flushed with the exercise and praise. "Flatterer."

Lando put on a mock-hurt expression. "Me? I am under a vow of truth, Lady Bria . . . Bria . . . what a lovely name. You're Corellian, aren't you?"

"Yes," she said, stiffening slightly in his arms, her glance suddenly wary. "Why?"

"I was just thinking that I';ee only heard that name once before. Is it common on your homeworld?"

"No," she said. "My father made it up from the first syllables of my grandmothers' names. Brusela and Iaphagena. He didn't want to saddle me with either of them, but he wanted to honor both of them."

"Clever," Lando said. "Obviously a man of great diplomacy and tact."

She laughed a little, but there was a sad note under-lying her merriment. "That's my father," she agreed. "Lando, I'm surprised to hear you say you've met an-other Bria. I thought I was the only one."

"You probably are," Lando said. "The other Bria I knew was a ship. My friend Han named his Sorosuub Starmite he leased from me the Bria."

She missed a step, recovered quickly. "Han?" she said. "I used to know a Corellian named Han. Is your friend Corellian?"

Lando nodded, and twirled her in a spin. When she was back in his arms again, he said, "Han Solo and I go back a ways. Don't tell me you know him?"

She laughed a little. "I do. It has to be the same guy. Brown hair, brownish eyes with a hint of green, a hair taller than you, has a very charming, lopsided smile?"

"Whoa," Lando said, raising an eyebrow. "You do know him well, don't you? That guy gets around, doesn't he?"

Her face reddened at his knowing look, and she glanced away and concentrated on the intricate steps for a moment. When she looked back up, her eyes were cool, and a little amused. "He's just part of my past, like a lot of other guys," she said. "There must be a few skeletons in your cargo locker, right?"

Lando, realizing he'd touched a nerve, was happy to let the subject go. "You bet," he said.

They danced several more dances, and Lando en-joyed her company tremendously. He looked over at her table, and realized that her companions had left the lounge. "Who are those fellows who were sitting at your table?"

She shrugged. "just business a.s.sociates," she said. "Feldron is my agent, and Renkov is my business manager."

"I see," Lando said, secretly delighted. It was obvi-ous that she was serious that neither of them was any kind of romantic interest. "So... do you want to have a drink, perhaps? Somewhere a bit more... private?"

She gave him an a.s.sessing glance, then nodded and stepped back, out of his arms. "All right. I'd like that. We can talk about... mutual acquaintances."

Lando reached for her hand, then raised it to his lips.

"Mutual acquaintances it is," he said.

"My stateroom, number 112, in, say, thirty minutes?" she said.

"Thirty minutes," Lando said. "I will be counting them, every one."

She smiled at him, a smile that held rueful amuse-ment as well as pleasure, and turned and left Lando standing on the edge of the dance floor. He watched her walk away, a pleasant occupation. She reached the portal of the lounge, brushed past an Anomid who was loitering there, watching the dancing and listening to the music, then disappeared from sight.

Lando smiled. Now to find the best bottle of wine in this ship, and some flowers, he thought, and headed briskly for the bar. Twenty-nine minutes and counting...

Bria told herself to settle down as she hurried down the corridor toward her stateroom. But she was ex-cited, realizing that she was finally going to get news of Hah! Lando Calrissian was obviously more than just a casual friend. Bria was so eager to reach her stateroom that she was almost jogging as she approached the door of 112. At last! Someone who knows him well, who can tell me how he~ doing, what he~ been cb~ing . . . where he is!

Just as Bria reached the door to her cabin, she had the sudden thought that perhaps Han was on Nar Shad-daa, her ultimate destination. Was it possible that in forty-eight hours or so, she'd actually get to see him? The thought excited her, even as it filled her with trepi-dation. After more than nine years, what would it be like to be close to him?

As she unlocked her stateroom door, her hands were shaking. She was so absorbed in memories of Han that she had no warning, no warning at all. One moment the door was opening before her, and the next a powerful thrust propelled her through the portal and into the liv-ing room of the suite with such force that she didn't even have breath to cry out.

Her high-heeled slippers skidded on the polished floor, and she tripped, trying to catch herself. Just as she started to fall, Bria felt something sharp sting her back.

She had only an instant to realize that she'd been shot with some kind of knockout drug. As she fell, she man-aged with the last of her strength to turn slightly, and saw a strange Anomid standing behind her in the door-way. Bria managed a soft, choked cry of warning to her friends before everything around her faded, faded... Faded...

And went black.

Boba Fett watched the Tharen woman sag to the floor, then lie there, motionless. Quickly he shut the door to the corridor behind him, and started forward- just as the older men Tharen had been traveling with rushed out of the sleeping cabin on the right.

Boba Fett extended his arm, flexed his hand, and a deadly da~ (unlike the soporific one that had felled the woman) shot toward the older of the two Resistance of-ricers and embedded itself in his throat. The man had time for one strangled gasp, and was dead before he hit the floor.

The other man did not hesitate, but came straight in. Boba Fett swept aside the Anomid cape and stood poised as the man, with a wordless yell, attacked.

The Rebel leader might have been a decent officer in plafining strategy and attacks, but he was no expert at unarmed combat. Boba Fett blocked his blow with one forearm, then came in with a hard, lethal blow that crushed the Corellian~ larynx.

Fett watched dispa.s.sionately as the Rebel officer died. It took no more than a minute.

He bent over the dead man, planning to drag him and his fellow off to the corner of the room and throw some sheets over them-more to m.u.f.fle the stench of voiding from the suddenly deceased bodies than from any sense of decorum.

Boba Fett~ peripheral vision was compromised by the mask he was wearing. Without his Mandalorian hel-met with its special sensors, the bounty hunter had only an instant~ warning of danger. He dodged just as the Rebel bodyguard struck, silent and with the expertise the two older men had lacked.

The bounty hunter whirled away from the younger man, and as he did so, Fett whipped off the Anomid~ heavy cloak and flung it into the bdyguard~ face. With one smooth movement, his opponent disentangled him-self and came in again. He was perhaps in his early thir-ties, and was bare-chested, barefoot, and wearing only shorts. The man had evidently been asleep in the other room when his officers had made their ill-fated attack.

This fellow, Fett knew instantly, was a combat sol-dier, trained to use his hands and feet as weapons-and trained also in using the vibroblade he held in one hand. Behind his two masks, Boba Fett smiled slightly, pleased to be challenged, and by someone who plainly knew what he was doing. He had another lethal dart he could have used, but he decided against it. A little exer-cise would be welcome. It had been a long time since he'd indulged' himself in unarmed combat; few foes were worthy of his time.

The man was already dancing in, balanced, his eyes level, vibroblade ready for a disemboweling slash. Boba Fett let him come, then dodged at the last possible sec-ond, pulling himself into an arc like a null-gee dancer, and then spinning around, out of the way. As he moved, his hand moved out and dealt the soldier a stunning clip behind his right ear.

The soldier managed to dodge at the last moment, though, and the blow that had been meant to render him unconscious only dazed him. He staggered a little, shook his head, then came back for more.

Boba Fett was pleased to oblige. They sidestepped around each other in a grim parody of the way Lando Calrissian and Bria Tharen had danced in the Star Winds Lounge only minutes before.

The guard lunged again, and again Boba Fett waited, then evaded the movement at the last possible second. Another blow made the Corellian gasp-this time Fett's instep impacted with the back of his knee. The guard~ leg buckled, and, for the first time, Fett saw fear in his eyes. He now knew he was totally outcla.s.sed, and yet he conquered his pain and weakness and moved in again. A man who knows his duty and does not shrink from it, Fett thought. Admirable. His reward for his courage shall be a quick and easy death ....

For the first time, Fett went on the attack. His foot lashed out in a precise blow, and impacted with the man~ wrist with stunning force. The vibroblade went flying. Fett spun in for the finish. Another sweep be-hind the other knee, and the man sagged, his legs un-able to hold him. But that did not matter. Fett already had him around the neck in a grip as hard and relentless its durasteel. One quick, sideways jerk, and the guard sagged in his arms, dead.

Boba Fett dragged the man over to the corner, and laid him down, then brought the others over, too. He tossed the covers from one of the beds over the bodies. As he was finishing the task, he saw that the Tharen woman was beginning to stir.

When Bria regained consciousness, she found her-self bound so efficiently that she didn't even bother struggling past the first moment. She was alone in the living room, sitting on the lush carpet, propped up against one of the armchairs. Her head was muzzy, and she was terribly thirsty, but she was otherwise unharmed.

Except for the fear. Bria had been in tight situations before, in battle, but she'd never been captured like this. It was the most helpless feeling in the world, to sit there alone, and wonder who had done this to her... and why?

It had to have been that Anomid, but Bria had never had any dealings with the aliens before, and she couldn't imagine why any of them would wish her harm. Perhaps the Anomid was a bounty hunter. That was the only explanation that made sense ....

She wet her lips, took a deep breath, and prepared to scream a scream that would be heard even outside the closed door of the stateroom. It was then that she no-ticed two things: the bodies of her companions, covered with bedclothes and stacked efficiently out of sight of anyone at the door-and the sound sponge. The little device was set up on the floor near her and the blinking light showed that it was on. It would effectively m.u.f.fle any outcry she could make. Bria shut her mouth and her eyes and leaned her head back against the chair. Great. Whoever that Anomid is, he thought of everything.

Who could he be? The alien had evidently dealt with Darnov, Feltran and even Treeska (and Bria knew his reputation at unarmed combat) in a matter of minutes.. She could see the wall-chrono, and realized she'd only been out about ten minutes.

As she sat there, struggling to think of something she could do, the Anomid opened the door to the stateroom and entered, carrying a huge, heavy case that he placed on the floor with a thud. Seeing that Bria was awake, he went into the 'fresher and soon returned, carrying a gla.s.s of water. He knelt beside her, turned down the sound sponge so she could hear his voice. "That sleep-ing drug causes great thirst. This is plain water. I have no intention of harming you. The bounty on you is for unharmed delivery."

He held out the water, and Bria leaned toward it, then hesitated. She didn't dare drink it. What if this was an Imperial bounty hunter or agent? What if the water was laced with truth drug? Even though her thirst was now a raging h.e.l.l in her mouth and throat, she shook her head. "Thank you anyway," she managed. "I'm not thirsty."

"Of course you are," the Anomid said. "I care noth-ing for your pitiful Resistance secrets." He shoved his vocalizer-mask aside and took a long drink. "The water is safe," he said, holding it back out.

Bria blinked at him, then her thirst won out. She drank deeply as the Anomid helped her. He pushed his vocalizer-mask back into place. As Bria leaned back against the armchair, she said, "You're not an Anomid. They can't speak without their vocalizer-masks. You're obviously a bounty hunter in disguise. Who are you?"

The Anomid regarded her from featureless silver-blue eyes. "Observant, Bria Tharen. I am pleased by your reaction. Hysteria is wearing and useless. As to my ident.i.ty... you would know me perhaps by my adopted name. Boba Fett."

Boba Fett? Bria sagged back against the armchair, eyes wide, fighting the fear that even the casual men-tion of that name brought. She found herself praying to childhood G.o.ds for the first time in years.

After a moment, she wet her lips. "Boba Fett . . ." she managed. "I do know that name. I didn't think you bothered with d.i.n.ky Imperial bounties. The one the Imps have on me isn't worth your time."

The bounty hunter nodded. "True. Besadii clan~ bounty is a hundred times that."

"Teroenza..." Bria whispered. "It has to be. Last I heard, it was fifty thousand, not a hundred."

"Following your capture of Helot~ Shackle, Besadii doubled that."

Bria tried to smile. "It~ so nice to be popular," she managed. "Helot~ Shackle was a slave ship. I had to stop them. I have no regrets."

"Good," he said. "That should make our short a.s.so-ciation as pleasant as possible. Would you like more water?"

Bria nodded, and Fett got another gla.s.s. This time she took a drink without being asked. Bria was trying to remember her training in what to do if captured. She wasn't in uniform, and thus had no lullaby available to end her suffering. Besides, she was a long way from Nal Hutta or Ylesia , . . a lot could happen between here and there. She decided to bide her time and keep Fett talking, if she could. All her instructions said that the more captors came to regard a prisoner as a real person, the easier captivity became, and the greater the chance that someone would get careless.

Bria was 'also aware that the chance of Boba Fett slipping up was incredibly unlikely. Still, she had noth-ing else to do at the moment, did she?

She tried not to look at the sheet-covered bodies in the corner.

"You know," she said, "I've heard a lot about you. Makes me wonder if 'all the things they say about you are true."

"Such as?"

"That you have your own moral code. You are the consummate hunter, but no bully. You take no pleasure in inflicting pain."

"True," he said. "I am a moral person."

"What do you think of the Empire?" she asked, as he began checking the heavy case he'd lugged into the room. She caught a glimpse of his famous helmet.

"I believe that the Empire, though morally corrupt in some ways, is the lawful government. I obey its laws."

"Morally corrupt?" she asked, c.o.c.king her head, "how so?"

"Several ways."

"Name one."

He gave her a glance, and she wondered if he'd tell her to shut up, but after a moment, answered, "Slavery. It is a morally corrupt inst.i.tution, degrading to all parties."

"Really!" she exclaimed. "Then we have something in common. I don't like slavery much either." "I know." "I was a slave," she said. "It was horrible."

"I know."

"You know a lot about me, I guess."

"Yes."

Bria wet her lips. "You know that Teroenza and who-ever is running Besadii these days are planning to kill me in some protracted, hideous fashion, right?" "Yes. Unfortunate for you, profitable for me."

Bria nodded, and fixed him with an appealing gaze. "Since you know so much about me, you know that I have a father, right?"

"Yes."

"Then maybe . . . I know this seems unusual, but under the circ.u.mstances . . . perhaps you wouldn't mind . . ." Bria trailed off, fighting for control. It was really sinking in now that she was done for, that she wasn't going to be able to get out of this. "What?"

She took a deep breath. "I haven't seen my dad in years. We were 'always close. My mom and brother aren't worth much, but my dad . . ." Bria shrugged. "You get the idea. When I started in with the Resis-tance, I knew it was too dangerous to see him any more. Too dangerous for both of us. But I've found ways--~ safe ways-to let him know I'm alive. A couple of times a year, he gets a message through very roundabout channels. Just, 'Bria's okay.' Like that."

"Go on." The bounty hunter's voice was absolutely expressionless.

"Anyway... I don't want him to wait and wait for a message from me. Could you . . . let him know I'm dead? He means a lot to me. He'S a good man, a decent man. Pays his Imperial taxes, honorable citizen, all that. So . . . if I gave you his name and location, could you just send a message? 'Bria's dead.' That's all."

To Bria's surprise, Boba Fett nodded. "I will do so.

What is-"

The bounty hunter broke off as the door chime sounded. Bria jumped, and Boba Fett rose to his feet in one seamless motion, like a hunting animal.

The chime sounded again. Dimly, from outside the cabin, m.u.f.fled by the sound sponge, Bria heard, "Bria? Hey, it's me, Lando!"

"Calrissian," Boba Fett said quietly. Quickly the bounty hunter turned the sound sponge all the way back up. Going over to the portal, he keyed it open, standing back behind it.

"Lando, no!" Bria shouted. "Go away!" The sound sponge soaked up the noise, absorbing it. Instead of fill-ing the room, her shout was no louder than a whisper.

Clutching his flowers and the bottle of fine wine, Lando stepped eagerly through the door to Bria Lav- val's stateroom. "Sorry I'm a few minutes late," he was saying. "The florist was closed, and I had to-"

Calrissian broke off in confusion, his eyes widening as he took in Bria, sitting on the floor by the armchair, her arms bound behind her, and the sheet-covered mound in the corner. He backed up, realizing he'd just made a very bad mistake.