Seething, Durga undulated off in search of another staff member to interrogate.

Jabba the Hutt and his aunt Jiliac were lounging to-gether in their palatial receiving room in Jiliacg palace on Nal Hutta, watching Jiliacg baby inch its way around the room. The infant Hutt was now old enough to spend almost an hour outside Jiliacg pouch. At this stage of its life, the little creature resembled a huge, chubby grub or insect larva more than a Hurt. Its arms were nothing more than vestigial stubs, and would not develop or grow digits until the baby Hutt had left the maternal pouch for good. The only way in which the baby Hutt resembled the adult members of its species was its pop-eyed, vertical-pupiled stare.

Hutt babies were born almost mindless, and Hutt youngsters did not reach the age of accountability until they were about a century old. Before that, they were looked upon as creatures who needed good care and feeding, and not much else.

As he watched the baby wriggle along the polished stone floor, Jabba wished they were back on Nar Shad-daa, where he could get more done. It was difficult to oversee the Desilijic smuggling empire f?om Nal Hutta. Jabba had suggested more than once that he and his aunt go back to Nar Shaddaa, but Jiliac adamantly re-fused, insisting that the polluted atmosphere of Nar Shaddaa would be unhealthy for her baby.

Jabba thus spent much of his time shuttling back and forth between Nal Hutta and Nar Shaddaa. His hold-ings on Tatooine were suffering by his absence. Ephant Mon, the non-humanoid Chevin, was looking after Jabba~ interests, and doing it well, but it just wasn't the same as being there himself.

Jabba had shared many adventures in the past with Mon, and the ugly sentient from Vinsoth was the only being in the universe that Jabba really trusted. For some reason (even Jabba wasn't sure why), Ephant Mon was completely loyal to Jabba, and always had been. Jabba knew that the Cheviu had turned down multiple offers to betray him for fabulous profit. Yet... Ephant Mon had never turned, no matter how much he was offered.

Jabba appreciated his friendg loyalty and repaid it by keeping only minor tabs on Ephant Mong actions. He didn't expect Mon to betray him, not after all these years... but it was well to be prepared for anything.

"Aunt," Jabba said, "I have read the newest report from our source in the Besadii accounting office, and their profits are impressive. Even the dissension over Durga's leadership has not slowed them. Ylesia contin-ues to produce more processed spice with every month that pa.s.ses. Shiploads of Pilgrims are arriving nearly every week. It is depressing."

Jiliac turned her ma.s.sive head to regard her nephew. "Durga has done better than I ever gave him credit for, Jabba. I did not think he could hold onto the leader-ship. By now I envisioned that Besadii would be ripe for our takeover-but, even though there is muttering and discontent with Durga~ leadership, his outspoken op-ponents are dead, and no one has surfaced to replace them within the clan."

Jabba blinked at his aunt, and a spark of hope awak-ened. That speech sounded ahnost like the old, pre-motherhood Jiliac! "Do you know why they are dead, Aunt?"

"Because Durga was foolish enough to deal with Black Sun," Jiliac said. "The deaths of his opponents were too blatant to be Hutt doing. Only Black Sun has that many resources. Only Prince Xizor would be so coldly daring as to a.s.sa.s.sinate them 'all within days of each other."

Jabba was getting excited, now. Is she coming out of her maternal mental haze? he wondered.

"Prince Xizor is indeed someone to be reckoned with," he said. "That is why I have done him favors from time to time. I would prefer to stay on his good side... just in case I ever need a favor in return. As I did that one time on Tatooine. He helped me then, and asked nothing in return, because I have done him favors in the past."

Jiliac was shaking her head slowly back and forth, a mannerism she'd picked up from humans. "Jabba, you know my thinking on this, I have told you many times. Prince Xizor is not one to be trifled with. Best to stay far away from him, and to have nothing to do with Black Sun. Open the door to them just once, and you risk be-coming his va.s.sal."

"I am cautious, Aunt, I a.s.sure you. I would never do as Durga has done."

"Good. Durga will soon discover that he has opened a door that cannot easily be closed. If he steps through it... he will no longer be his own master."

"So should we hope he does that, Aunt?"

Jiliac's eyes narrowed slightly. "Hardly, Nephew. Xi-zor is not aloe I wish to contend with. He has evidently set his sights on Besadii, but he would willingly take Desilijic, too, of that I have no doubt."

Jabba silently agreed. Xizor would move in on the whole of Nal Hutta if given the opportunity. "Speaking of Besadii, Aunt," he said, "what of these Ylesian profits I was reporting on? What can we do to stop Besadii? They now have nine colonies on Ylesia. They are pre-paring to start another colony on Nyrvona, the other habitable world in the system."

Jiliac thought for a moment. "Perhaps it is time to utilize Teroenza again," she said. "Durga apparently has no suspicion that he was responsible for Arukg death." "Utilize him how?"

"I don't know yet ...."Jiliac said. "Perhaps we can encourage Teroenza to declare his independence from Durga. If they fought, Besadii profits would be bound to plummet. And then... we could pick up the pieces." 'Very good, Aunt!" Jabba was happy to hear the old, scheming Jiliac acting like herself again. "Now, if I can just report on these figures here, and get your input on reducing our costs in-" "Ahhhhhhhh!"

Jabba broke off, interrupted by Jiliac% deep, mater-nal coo of affection, and saw the baby Hutt wriggling up to its mother, tiny vestigial arms held up, its bulbous eyes fixed on Jiliacg Face intently. The babyg mouth opened, and it chirrnped inquiringly.

"Look, Nephew!" Jiliacg voice was warm, indulgent.

"My little one knows mama, yes, doesn't he, precious?" Jabba rolled his eyes until they nearly emerged from their sockets and splatted onto the floor. Witness the demise of one of the greatest criminal mind~ of this mil-lennium, he thought, bleakly.

Then, as Jiliac scooped up the baby Hutt and guided it back into her pouch, Jabba glared at the little creature with an expression very close to outright hatred ....

Han spent the next couple of days with the members of the Woollee underground, finalizing their deal. The time came when he opened up the Falcon, and he and Jarik unloaded the explosive quarrels from the secret compartments. Katarra, Kichiir and Motamba clus-tered around the boxes, exclaiming excitedly over their new toys.

Meanwhile, other Woollees from the underground movement made a steady stream inside the ship, load-ing it with stormtrooper armor. Han was able to pack nearly forty complete suits and ten helmets into the Falcon. If the armor fetched the market price, he'd doubled his investment on the trip. Not a bad bit of bargaining!

By the time all the armor was stowed away enough so that the Falcon~ crew could move about, night was falling. Han decided that he wanted to wait for dawn for his tricky exit of the cave and straight-up flight through the trees. He and Jarik said farewell to their hosts and stretched out on the pilot~ seats to sleep.

Han was awakened before sunrise the next morning by a loud-and familiar! Woollee roar. The Corellian. opened his eyes and jumped up, nearly tripping over the sleepy Jarik. Activating the ramp, he raced down it. "Chewie!"

Han was so glad to see the big furball that he didn't even complain when the Wooldee grabbed him, swnng him around, and ruffled his hair until it stood on end. All the while, Chewbacca was whining out a steady stream of complaints. What had Han been thinking of, preparing to leave him behind? Didn't he know any better? What could you expect from a human!

When the Wookiee finally released him, Han looked up at Chewie, completely confused. "Huh? Whaddaya mean, I was gonna leave you behind? I'm goin' back to Nar Shaddaa, pal, and, in case it's slipped your atten-tion, Chewie, you're a married guy now. Your place is here, on Kashyyyk, with Malla."

Chewie shook his head, uttering protesting hoots and remonstrations. "Life debt? Pal, I know you've sworn a life debt, but let~ be realistic here! You belong with your wife, on your own planet, now! Not dodgin' Imp cruisers with me."

The Woollee had just started in again when a loud, angry roar from behind Han made him jump and dodge. A large, hairy hand grabbed his shoulder, and Han was swung around as though he weighed no more than a sc.r.a.p of flimsy. He looked up to see Mallatobuck towering over him. Chewie's wife was furious, teeth bared, blue eyes narrowed. Han put up both hands, and shrank back against his friend's hairy chest. "Hey, Mallal Take it easy, now!"

Mallatobuck roared again, then launched into an an-gry tirade. Humans! How could they be so ignorant of Woollee customs and Woollee honor? How dare Hah imply that Chewbacca would abandon a life debt? There was no greater insult he could offer a Woollee! Her husband was possessed of great honor! He was a courageous warrior, a skilled hunter, and when he gave his word, he kept it! Especially about a life debt!

Faced with Malla~ ire, Hah turned both hands up and shrugged, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. He looked up imploringly at his friend. Chewie, taking pity on his Corellian buddy, intervened. He stepped be-tween Malla and Hah, and spoke quickly, telling her that of course Han had meant no insult, no offense. His comment had been made out of ignorance, not malice.

Finally, Malla relaxed, and her roars turned to grum-bles. Hah gave her an apologetic smile. "Hey, no of-fense, Malla. I know Chewie here better'n almost anyone, and I know he's a terrific guy, brave, smart, all that stuff. I just didn't know that to a Wookiee, a life debt outweighs everything else."

He turned back to his friend. "So, okay, you're comin' with us, and we're gettin' ready to grab some s.p.a.ce, pal. So say goodbye to your bride."

Chewbacca and Mallatobuck walked away together, while Hah and Jarik conducted the prefiight checks. A few minutes later, Hah heard the clang of the Falcon% ramp closing. Moments later, Chewbacca slipped into the copilot's seat. Han looked at him, "Don't worry, pal, I swear to you we'll come back again . . . soon. I did some good dealing with Katarra and her underground. Your people are going to need lots of ammo before they can even hope to take on the Imps and free your world. And I'm gonna help 'era get it."

Jarik's voice came over the intercom from the star-board gunner% turret. "Yeah, at a tidy profit, of course."

Hah laughed. "Yeah... of course! Chewie... stand by! Here...we... go!"

With great dignity, the Millennium Falcon rose up-ward on her repulsors, then drifted forward until she was out of the tree-branch "cave." Then, with a sudden-ness that sent everyone sinking back into their seats, Han sent his ship whooshing straight up, through the tunnel of trees. They soared up into the skies, now flushed with the red-gold dawn. As the Falcon went higher, sunrise seemed to burst over the world in a shower of gold.

Quarrr-teUerrra; Hah thought. The sun-haired war-flor, the woman he had known as Bria .... What was she doing now? he wondered. Does she ever think about me?

Moments later, Kashyyyk was only a rapidly dwin-dling green ball behind them, as they tore through the star-flecked blackness ....

Boba Fett sat in a sleazy rented fiat on the Outer Rim world of Teth, listening to Bria Tharen meeting with the Tethan Rebel leaders. The most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy had many resources, in-cluding a spy network that most planets would have en-vied. Since he accepted Imperial a.s.signments from time to time, he was often privy to communiqu6s and other information most Rebel Commands would have loved to see.

Even though she was a Rebel officer, the bounty on Bria Tharen had not been posted by the Empire. No, this was a far larger bounty, the sum of fifty thousand credits for a live, unharmed capture, no disintegrations permitted. Aruk the Hutt, the old leader of Besadii clan, had originally posted the bounty, but his heir, Durga, had continued it after his death, and had prom-ised a bonus for delivery within three months.

Boba Fett had been searching on and off for Bria Tharen for over a year now. The woman kept being sent out on "deep cover" a.s.signments that made her ex-tremely hard to trace. She had severed all ties with her family, probably to lessen the danger to them should she be captured by the Imperials. When she was on her home planet of CoreIlia, she lived inside a series of se-cret Rebel command bases, with extensive security and guard mounts.

Such high security was understandable . . . after all, the Rebels lived in fear of a full-scale attack by imperial stormtroopers. So they kept the locations of their bases top-secret, and moved them continually. One bounty hunter-no matter how deadly and effective-stood little chance of getting close enough to manage a live capture.

If only Besadii would have been satisfied with having Bria dead, Boba Fett was fairly sure he could have managed to kill her, even within the protection of a Rebel base. But live, unharmed capture was much more difficult ....

However, a few days ago, Boba Fett had learned through his spy network that there was a meeting scheduled for the underground Rebel movement on Teth. Taking a calculated risk that Bria would be there, he had flown Slave I to Teth two days ago. The risk had paid off; she had shown up yesterday evening.

Two days ago, when he'd first arrived on Teth, Boba Fett had located the current Rebel enclave, which was situated beneath the port city in a series of old storm drains and sub-bas.e.m.e.nts. He'd infiltrated the outskirts of the base, via the ancient storm drains and ventilation shafts, enough to locate the base janitorial supplies. There he'd placed minuscule audio pickups on a num-ber of small robot floor cleaners that roved freely from room to room, sucking up anything their tiny scanners identified as "dirt."

Since that time, he'd been monitoring the pickups, and today his preparations had paid off. Bria Tharen was in a meeting with two top-ranked Tethan Rebels. The tiny floor-cleaner, per its programmed instructions, had scuttled out of their way when they'd entered the room, and was now biding its time in an inconspicuous corner.

Boba Fett had no use for the whole concept of the various rebellions. He considered the idea of rebellion against any established government criminal. The Em-pire maintained order, and Boba Fett valued order. The Tethan resistance was no exception... a bunch of mis-guided idealists who were out to create anarchy....

Within the confines of his helmet, Boba Fett~ eyes narrowed with disdain as he listened. The Tethan lead-ers were Commander Winfrid Dagore and her aide, Lieutenant Palob G.o.dalhi. At the moment the Tharen woman was arguing with them about the necessity for the various resistance groups to unite into a Rebel Al-liance. There were indications, she said, that the idea of an Alliance was gaining support in high places.

A prestigious Imperial Senator, Mon Mothma of Chandrila, had recently met secretly with Bria's superi-ors in the Corellian Rebel underground, and talked. The senator agreed that in the wake of the Empire's ma.s.sacres on planets such as Ghorman, Devaron, Rampa i and 2, that the Emperor was either pathologi-cally insane or totally evil, and must be overthrown by sentients of good conscience.

The Tharen woman spoke with misguided pa.s.sion, her clear alto voice quivering slightly with controlled emotion. It was obvious she really cared about her cause.

When she was finished, Winfrid Dagore cleared her throat. Her voice was rough with age and strain. "Com-mander Tharen, we sympathize with our brothers and sisters on CoreIlia, Alderaan and the other worlds. But here on the Outer Rim, we are so far away from the Core Worlds that we could be of little help to you, even if we did ally with your groups. We do things our way out here. The Emperor pays little attention to us. We raid the Imperial shipping, and oppose the Empire in many ways-but we value our independence. We are not likely to join a larger group."

"Commander Dagore, that isolationist policy is an in-vitation to an Imperial ma.s.sacre," Tharen said, her tone bleak. "Mark my words, it will happen. Palpatine~ forces will not overlook your groups forever."

"Perhaps , . . or perhaps not. Still, I doubt that we could do more than what we are currently doing, Com-mander Thareu."

Boba Fett heard a chair creak and the rustle of fabric as someone moved. Then Tharen spoke again. "Com-mander Dagore, you have ships. You have troops. You have weapons. You are one of the closest worlds to the Corporate Sector, though we realize that% a long way off. But still, you could help. You could help with pur-chasing weapons in the Corporate Sector and funneling them back here to be shipped to other undergrounds. Don't think because you're out here, that your help isn't needed."

"Commander Tharen, weapons cost credits," Lieu-tenant G.o.dalhi said. "Where will those credits come from?"

"Well, we'd certainly appreciate it if you Tethans man-aged to come up with a few million to help us out," Bria said dryly, and a sad chuckle ran around the room. "But we're working on it. Financing the resistance is very hard, but there are enough citizens who are being squeezed until they can't see straight that, even if they don't have the ability or the courage to join a Rebel group outright, they're smuggling us spare credits. Some of the Hutt lords have 'also seen fit to contribute... elan-destinely, of course."

Interesting .... thought Fett. This was news to him, though, now that he thought about it, Hutts were noto-rious for playing both sides plus their own side in any conflict. If they could look forward to an increase in credits or power, Hutts were usually right there ....

"We are not far from Hutt s.p.a.ce," Dagore said, a thoughtful note in her voice. "Perhaps we could make contacts with other Hutt lords... see if they'd be will-ing to help."

"Help?" Bria Tharen% voice sputtered with laughter. "Hutts? They may contribute, and some have, but they do it for their own reasons, trust me, and those reasons have nothing to do with our aims. Hurts are devious... but sometimes their go'ds and ours coincide. That's when they hand out their credits. Half the time we can't even guess what benefit they may be getting as a result of their 'donation.'"

"Probably better not to guess," Lieutenant G.o.dalhi said. "Still, Commander Tharen, there may be some merit in our increasing our commitment at this time. Our new Imperial Moff is far less... vigilant than Sam Shild was. We have been getting away with far more lately than we could under Shild's rule."

"That's another thing," Bria Tharen said. "We've been studying this new Moff, Yref Orgege. Most of the new procedures he~ put in place here in the Outer Rim are so ill-advised that we're beginning to wonder if he has Gamorrean blood."

Laughter rippled throughout the room.

Bria continued, "Orgege is both arrogant and stupid. He's insisting that he won't make Shild's mistake, and he~ going to keep close personal control over his mili-tary force. This policy has cut down tremendously on the Imperial threat here in the Outer Rim. The Imp Commanders have to check with Orgege about the smallest things. He is managing them into paralysis, Commander Dagore."

"We're aware of that, Commander," Dagore agreed.

"What do you want us to do about it?"

"Increase your raids on Imperial supply vessels and munitions dumps here in the Outer Rim, Commander. We need those weapons. And by the time Orgege can be contacted and give his orders, you and your people will be long gone."

Dagore considered for a moment. "I think we can promise you that much, Commander Tharen. For the rest... we'll take it under advis.e.m.e.nt."

"Talk to your people today," Bria said. "I'll be leaving tomorrow."

Boba Fett strained his ears, silently urging her to re-veal her plans. But there was no other sound except the sc.r.a.pings of chairs as the Rebels got up and left the room.

Fett kept a close survey on all the nearby s.p.a.ceports, but he was unable to catch even a glimpse of Bria Tharen the next day. She must have been smuggled aboard a Rebel ship by some clandestine means.

The bounty hunter was slightly disappointed at his failure, but the most important trait of any hunter-and Boba Fett lived for the hunt-was patience. He re-solved to find some way of tipping off the Imperials about Mon Mothma's treachery, and the Rebels' plans, without letting them know who their informant was. Many Imperial officers were openly scornful of bounty hunters, referring to them as "sc.u.m"-and worse. Fett wished he had more specific information to offer as a tip. If only the Rebels had revealed plans for an actual operation!

In the meantime, Fett's trip to Teth would not be wasted. He'd checked with the Guild, and there was an open bounty here on their books, a rich, reclusive businessman who had a high-guarded and "secure" es-tate in the mountains of Teth.

"Secure" that is, insofar as ordinary bounty hunters went, but Boba Fett was in a cla.s.s by himself. The businessmank activities had been so predictable that planning was laughably easy. The man was a creature of habit. Boba Fett wouldn't even have to go up against his bodyguards, since this was a bounty permitting disinte-grations. Only the kill was required.

Boba Fett had found a vantage point in a laakwal tree that would 'allow him to erect a temporary blind, make the kill, then slip away before the bodyguards or security forces could even pinpoint his location. One shot would be all that he needed ...."

Over the next five months, Han Solo and his Wookiee First Mate rose to the top of the smuggler heap. For a miracle, Han managed to actually hang on to some of the money he'd won long enough to do most of the modifications on the Millennium Falcon that he'd envisioned.

His half-alien master technician and starship me-chanic, Shug Ninx, let him berth the Falcon in his s.p.a.cebarn. Shug's s.p.a.cebarn was almost a legend in the Corellian section of Nar Shaddaa. Within its cavernous interior, traders, pirates and smugglers tinkered with their ships, modifying them, determined to squeeze the last bit of speed and firepower out of them. After all, the faster a smuggler delivered a cargo, the quicker he, she or it could take off again with another shipment. Time was credits, in the life of a smuggler.

Han, Jarik and Chewbacca did most of the work themselves, with an occasional hand from Salla, who was 'also an expert technician, and Shug, the acknowl-edged master.

Once he had the ship~ armor-plating the way he wanted it-no lucky Imperial shot was going to take out the Falcon the way Han~ previous ship, the Bria, had been destroyed!--he started on the engines and the ar-mament. He added a light laser cannon under the nose, then moved the quad lasers so the Falcon had gun tur-rets both dorsally and ventrally-top and bottom. Then Han and Salla installed two concussion missile launch-ing tubes between the forward mandibles.

All the while that he was installing weapons and armor, Han, Shug and Chewie worked on the Falcon's engines and other systems. The Falcon already boasted a military-grade hyperdrive. Together Hah and Shug tinkered with both the hyperdrive and sub-light engines until they were even more powerful, and the Falcon was making faster and faster times on Han's smuggling runs.

They also installed new sensor and jamming systems. The new jamming system had a less than auspicious first trial, however. When Han triggered it, the pulse was so powerful that it also jammed the Falcon's own internal communications, disrupting the signals from the c.o.c.kpit to the ship's systems! The incident hap-pened at the worst possible time while the Falcon was ducking into a planet's gravity well in an attempt to shake off an Imperial frigate. As their ship hurtled down, grazing upper atmosphere, totally out of control, Han and Chewbacca stared at their instruments in dis-may. Only the fact that the new jammer was so power-ful that it burned out almost immediately saved them from being incinerated in the planet's atmosphere.

The day came when Han looked at the Falcon with satisfaction, and threw an arm around Shug Ninx's shoulders. "Shug old pal, you are one master mechanic. I don't think there's anyone better with a hyperdrive in the whole galaxy. She's purring like a Togorian kit-cub, and we've increased her speed another two percent."

The half-alien master mechanic smiled at his friend, but shook his head. "Thanks, Han, but I can't claim that t.i.tle. I've heard that there's a guy in the Corporate Sec-tor name of 'Doc' who can make a hyperdrive dance a jlzz-j~g with one hand tied behind his back. If you want her to go even faster, you'll have to hunt him up."

Han listened with some surprise, but filed the infor-mation away in his mind as potentially useful. He'd .al-ways had a yen to see the Corporate Sector, and now he had a reason to go there.

"Thanks, Shug," he said. 'Tll have to consider con-tacting this guy if I ever get there."

"From what I've heard about Doc, you don't contact him. He'll contact you, if he decides it's a good idea. Ask Arly Bron about him. He'S spent time in the Corporate Sector, he might know how you'd go about contacting Doc."

"Thanks for the word," Han said. He knew Arly Bron, as he did most of the smugglers who hung out in the Corellian Sector of Nar Shaddaa. Bron was a stocky, aging smuggler with a genial air and a sharp tongue. He enjoyed needling fools, but he was fast enough on the draw to still be among the living, which said something for his speed and accuracy. He flew a beat up old freighter named Double Echo.

Now that Han had the fast and (comparatively) reli-able Millennium Falcon, he could take on the most challenging jobs. He still worked mostly for Jabba, who was basically running the Desilijic kajidic these days, but he also took jobs for other employers. The Corellian and his Wookiee sidekick became 'almost a legend on Nar Shaddaa as they broke speed records for the Kessel Run and flew rings around Imperial patrol vessels.

Han had never been happier. He had a fast ship, friends in Chewie, Jarik and Lando, an attractive, savvy lady friend in Salla, and credits in his pocket. True, money had a way of slipping through his fingers, no matter how he tried to hold on to it, but to Han, that was only a minor worry. So what if he liked living high, gambling and expensive flings? He could always make more!

But even though Han's personal life was going splen-didly, dark clouds were gathering on the horizon. The Emperor continued to tighten his grip, and his reach was extending even into the Outer Rim these days. There was a ma.s.sacre on Mantooine in the Atrivis Sec-tor, and the Rebels that had managed to capture an Im-peri.al base there were wiped out practically to the last defender.

There were other ma.s.sacres as object lessons to in-ner Imperial worlds. Gunrunners had to be increasingly wary and fast, in order to deliver their cargoes. When Han had first begun making the Kessel Run, it was un-usual to even pick up an Imp craft on ship's sensors. Now it was unusual to not spot one. To support his fleets and armies, Emperor Palpatine levied taxes that had citizens of the Empire groaning beneath the finan-cial burden. These days, the average citizen of the Em-pire struggled just to put decent food on the table.

(Han and his friends, naturally, did not pay taxes. No tax collectors came to the Smuggler's Moon-collecting taxes from the motley denizens of Nar Shaddaa was such a daunting task that the moon was simply "over-looked" each tax time.) In the past, Han had paid little attention to news-vids about the struggle between the Imperials and the underground Rebel groups. But now, knowing that Bria might be involved in those actions, he found himself lis-tening to the news-vids with undivided attention. Pal-patine must be crazy, Han found himself thinking, on more than one occasion. He~ askin'for a wholesale re-bellion with these tactics... ma.s.sacres, murders, citi-zens hauled out of their homes in the middle of the night, and never seen again ....You ,a.s.ss over people bad enough, long enough, you're askin'for revolt .... Dissent in the Imperial Senate was growing by leaps and bounds. One of the more prominent Senators, Mon Mothma, had been forced to flee not long ago, 'after the Emperor ordered her arrest on charges of treason. Mon Mothma had been a prestigious member of the Senate, and the Emperor's high-handed move caused demonstra-tions on Chandrilla, her home planet-demonstrations that resulted in yet another ruthless ma.s.sacre of Imperial citizens.

The Emperor's attacks on financial well-being and personal freedom had another effect, one that Hah found particularly disturbing. More and more down-trodden, poverty-stricken people were chucking their old lives and heading for Ylesia to become Pilgrims-or, as Han knew, slaves.

Many of the new Pilgrims came from Sull.u.s.t, Bothu-wui, and CoreIlia, worlds that had recently suffered reprisals for civil unrest and anti-taxation demonstra-tions. Han arrived home one day from a smuggling run to discover that, for the first time, the t'landa Til had held a revival on Nar Shaddaa. As a result, a number of Corellians from the Corellian sector of Nar Shaddaa had packed up and were waiting to board a ship bound for, among other places, Ylesia.

When he heard this, Han grabbed a tube over to the disembarkation point, and raced up to the line of hollow-eyed, weary looking Corellians waiting to board the transport. "What do you think you're doing?" he shouted. "Ylesia is a trap! Haven't you heard the stories about it? They lure you there, then turn you into slaves! You'll wind up dyin' in the mines of Kessel! Don't go!"

One old woman looked at him suspiciously. "Shut up, youngster," she said. "We're going to a better place. The Ylesian priests say they'll take care of us, and we'll have a better life... a blessed life. I'm sick of scratchin' here. The cursed Empire is making it too hard these days to earn a dishonest living."