Admiral Ackbar unreachable.

General Antilles unreachable.

Mon Mothma unreachable.

Something serious was happening.

The last time he had ignored R2, he had nearly gotten them all killed.

Not to mention all the good people still out in unrepaired X-wings that might explode on them at any moment.

R2 wailed.

"He says that we can't wait any longer," 3PO said. "He reminds you that you promised to help. Personally, Master Far-dreamer, I wouldn't hold you to that promise. After all, you've done what you can. R2 is a bit eccentric-"

"And he's been right each time he's pointed something out," Cole said. He put a hand on R2's cylindrical head. "I've tried to be official. I guess it's time to be unofficial." R2 squealed with joy. He hurried toward the stock light freighter.

"3PO," Cole said, "do you know the President's codes?"

"Sir, those are private and subject to change every day. Why-"

"Do you know the President's codes?"

"Of course," C-3PO said. "And the codes for her husband and children."

"I just need hers. Without them, we won't be able to leave Coruscant."

"Oh, I can't go along, sir. I'm in enough trouble already. Mistress Leia expects me to stay here."

"The President resigned, 3PO, without telling you. I think she'd appreciate it if you helped prevent another bombing. The first one nearly killed her." C-3PO tilted his golden head as if he were trying to see inside Cole's. "You do have a point, Master Fardreamer."

"I thought so," Cole said.

R2 squealed at them from inside the freighter.

"Let's go," Cole said.

C-3PO climbed onto the boarding ramp, and walked into the freighter.

"I think I'm going to regret this," he said.

THIRTY-SIX.

Chewbacca rode as copilot with Blue. After their experiences on Skip 6, Han wasn't about to take any more chances. He'd known Blue as long as he'd known Kid, and not nearly as well.

The betrayals hurt, no matter how he could justify them. He sat in the air-breather's section of Nandreeson's Skipper. This Skipper was larger and slimmer than Blue's, and had a pond on the lower deck. Neither Han nor Lando wanted to get near slimy water again. They sat in the tiny compartment near the top, filled with old, moldy couches (which Han suspected came from drained ponds) and mildew-covered tables.

Lando was resting beside him. His old friend had his eyes closed. His normally pristine clothing was water-stained and he had lost weight.

Han sighed and went over the events in his mind. There had been nothing he could do. Kid and Zeen had gone with the intent of betraying him. They hadn't been his friends. They had made that clear from the moment he had arrived. Perhaps then they had been trying to warn him away.

That explained how Nandreeson's men had known to find him on Skip 5.

Chewbacca had said that he thought Wynni would have helped them if Chewie hadn't fought her intentions. Han wasn't so certain. She probably knew about Chewie's loyalty to his wife, or she might have felt rebuffed by Chewie all those years ago. With Wynni, the situation was always complex.

She never did what was expected of a Wookiee.

Not even at the end.

He wondered how she was faring, alone in Nandreeson's lair.

He was glad that she, at least, was alive. Zeen and the Kid, no matter what they had done, would always ride on his conscience.

"You couldn't have done anything," Lando said. His voice grated against his throat, his exhaustion evident. He had eaten all the human stores in Nandreeson's Skipper and had drunk water as if he hadn't been trapped in it at all.

"About what?" Han asked.

"About whatl" Lando opened his eyes and pushed himself up on his elbows.

His face wasn't as gray as it had been before. "About Kid and Zeen. They never were your friends."

"Stop trying to make me feel better," Han said.

"I'm not. I'm just trying to make you see the truth." Lando leaned his head against the steel wall. "You never belonged here, Han. We all knew it. Kid and Zeen, they tried to corrupt you from the beginning. They thought they could make you into one of them. But there were some lines you'd never cross. I think that made them mad."

"I did everything they wanted," Han said.

"No, you didn't. Profit was never the most important thing to you. You had this layer you kept trying to hide. It's what made you go on that wild-goose chase with Skywalker right from the beginning. He's told me about it. You could have bailed out at any time. You never did."

"It was an exception."

"It was the rule. Remember the case of the Wookiee slave you found?"

"Chewbacca doesn't count. That circ.u.mstance was unusual."

"Yeah," Lando said. "As unusual as all the others. They hated it, Han.

With every breath you took, you showed them that the life they led was dirty, ugly, and hate-filled." There was pa.s.sion in Lando's words. Han turned. Lando was staring at him.

"Did you hate me too?"

"No," Lando said. "But you sure as h.e.l.l made me ashamed of myself." He pushed off the cot and paced around the room. Then he yelped, bent over, and grabbed his calves. His face had gone gray again. Han got up and helped Lando back to the cot.

"Who'd've thought you'd get leg cramps from treading water?"

"Anyone who's exercised," Han said. "You should have asked Nandreeson to let you warm up before he tossed you in that pool."

"Very funny." Han slowly stretched Lando's leg, ma.s.saging the muscle. "No pushing, buddy. You almost didn't survive that one."

"I'm tough," Lando said.

"Stupid is more like it. What were you thinking, coming back to the Run?"

"I had to find you, Han." Lando stretched out his other leg. "You can let go now."

"Why? What's so important that you'd risk your life?"

"Someone's setting you up, old friend," Lando said softly. "They're trying to make it look like you're behind the bombing of the Senate Hall."

"With Leia inside? Anyone who knows me knows I'd never do that." Lando smiled. "I think Kid and Zeen would probably agree with that. But most of the Imperials in the Senate don't know you. That sort of behavior was business as usual in the Empire."

"It would take pretty strong proof to make it look like I've done something." Lando shook his head. "Strong isn't as important as the right kind of proof. You're lucky I brought this to Leia first." Then he told Han about finding the Spicy Lady, and the message inside.

Han sighed. "Jarril's dead, huh?" Lando nodded. "It wasn't pretty."

"I think he was afraid that would happen when he came to me. I think he felt he didn't have much time left."

"Maybe he was part of the setup." Han shook his head. "He was too scared for that. He tried to ask for help a smuggler's way, by offering me money, but I wasn't buying. And then, he asked for it directly. "

"Maybe he had to."

"And maybe he needed it. Maybe he knew they were coming for him.

Obviously, they found him and killed him on Coruscant. He never would have sent those messages." Lando shook his head. "Jarril's dead. His motives don't really matter. What does is that someone wanted you involved."

"Do you think the Imperials in the Senate did this so that they could get rid of Leia? "

"And bomb their own? It doesn't seem too likely, does it, Han?" said.

"All these sales of old Imperial equipment tie in too," Han Lando closed his eyes. "You ever hear of Almania?"

"Not until you mentioned it," Han said.

"Me, either," Lando said. "That's odd, don't you think?"

"Odd?"

"Someone worked hard to keep a place we never heard of out of the visible spectrum. When someone works hard to keep something hidden, it's usually something we need to find out about."

"Exactly," Han said. "Maybe it should be our next stop."

"Provided we both have ships left," Lando said.

"We will," Han said. "I can promise you that."

Luke slipped between the creature's teeth, pulling his legs inside just as it bit down. Its mouth was large and had a flat, ridged top. Even with the teeth clamped, there was still room inside.

Except near the tongue. It kept slamming Luke against the roof of the mouth, as if it were trying to lick him. Each time he slid toward the throat, the tongue slammed him against the roof again. He had the sense that this creature usually swallowed its food whole.

Everything inside was slimy. There was nothing to grab on to. So the next time the tongue slammed him against the roof, he dug his fingers into the soft palate.

The creature yelped and pushed at him with its tongue. Luke let go, the jaws opened, and he was sailing through the air. He hit the metal walls and slid to the ground, the wind knocked from him.

The creature stood over him, a hurt expression on its gigantic face. It pawed at him, claws extended, and he couldn't roll away. It pulled him onto his back and sniffed him again, as if it couldn't believe something so small would cause it so much pain.

Luke held his hands up, and put them on the nose, trying to push it away.

The creature snuffled at him, then licked him once as if tasting him.

Luke's entire body smelled like the interior of the creature's mouth, a combination of raw meat, dirty teeth, and saliva. He couldn't get away.

The creature backed up, contemplated him for a moment, then batted him so hard he slid across the wood floor and slammed into the wall on the other side. Splinters the size of knives stuck out of his arms and back. He hadn't gotten his breath back from the last time, and this second hit made him feel just as bad. He was stunned, unable to move, and soaking wet.

But he had to move. This thing couldn't beat him. It would be a horrible way for a Jedi Knight to die. He'd fought rancors and Tus-ken Raiders all by himself. He could survive anything.

Anything.

The creature came toward him again. Luke eased himself to his feet, and pulled one of the splinters out of his arm. When the creature raised its paw to him, Luke shoved the splinter into the pad.

The creature yelped again, and shook its paw. Hair fell around him like snow. The creature stood on three legs and bit the base of the fourth one.

Luke wasn't going to wait to see what happened next.

He ran as fast as his ankle would allow him around the creature's back and toward the pallet. There was nowhere to hide. The grates were too high to reach because of his ankle, and the pallet provided the only thing for him to lie beneath, something the creature would look at first.

Luke limped into the next room to find the emptiness there just as overwhelming. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Once they did, he saw that the rooms went on, deeper and deeper. The creature must have come from that direction. There might be more of its kind farther on.

One was difficult enough. Several would be a nightmare.

The creature was whimpering in the far room. Luke understood how it felt.

He took the momentary respite to pull the remaining splinters from his own flesh. He set them beside him like long knives, the only weapons he had against this creature.

Except his mind.

The creature didn't seem intent on harming him. In fact, the most harm had occurred when Luke had attacked it. The creature seemed to be trying to figure out what he was.

If Luke could figure out a way to convince it that he wasn't food, then he might stand a chance.

The question was how.