The corners of Aruk the Hutt’s wide, lipless mouth turned down as he squinted his protuberant eyes at the shipping report displayed on his datapad. He used to relish going over all the facts and figures … the quarterly, semi-annual, and annual reports, the Ylesian profit statements, the prospectuses for new companies, his net worth statement, and all the other reports on the vast and varied financial enterprises of Besadii kajidic … but lately, it was becoming more and more of a chore to concentrate on them.

Abstractedly, Aruk reached for another of the nala-tree frogs that Teroenza shipped him from Ylesia. The t’landa Til had been faithful to his promise to provide only the biggest, tastiest, freshest frogs to his Hutt overlord.

Aruk’s hand closed around the nala-tree frog. The terrified creature squirmed wildly in the Hutt Lord’s grip. Opening his mouth, Aruk tossed the wriggling morsel in, then rolled it around on his tongue, savoring its frenzied struggles for a long minute or two before finally swallowing the thing whole.

Delicious … Aruk thought with a contented sigh.

He frowned again at the datapad. These reports could wait. Perhaps he’d take a nap, though he knew he really shouldn’t. His physician and the med droids had both insisted that he get more exercise. Every day that he didn’t get off his sled and wriggle around under his own power, they complained and lectured. Every time he ate rich food, or smoked his hookah, they fussed, insisting that he was endangering his cardiovascular system. Aruk knew they were right, that his circulation was sluggish, he could tell because the greenish patches on his leather hide had darkened.

But he was old, blast it, and at his age, he should be allowed to do just as he liked—which included smoking, eating what he wanted, and not exercising. And … not reading incomprehensible financial reports.

Aruk resolved to turn the financial report over to Durga. Time the youngster began taking some of the load off his parent’s shoulders.

The aging Hutt Lord took another nala-tree frog to savor, then, with a sigh, he closed his bulbous eyes for a delightful afternoon nap …

“All right, you sentients, settle down!” roared Mako Spince. His amplified voice resounded off the walls of the large auditorium at The Chance Castle where Han had first seen Xaverri perform. The hotel-casino had generously donated the space, when Mako had called a meeting of representatives from every enclave, both humanoid and nonhumanoid, on Nar Shaddaa. “I said, settle down!”

Slowly the crowd quieted. Mako waited until he had their full attention, then he said, “Okay, guys. I’m no politician, so I don’t know how to make a speech. The best I can do is just tell you the facts as we know ’em. Okay?”

The crowd indicated their approval of Mako’s words with a muted buzz of applause. In the front of the crowd, a Gotal yelled, “Go on, Mako!”

“Okay.” Mako held up his right hand, and used his left to tick off points on his fingers as he spoke. “Fact number one. Fellow sentients and inhabitants of Nar Shaddaa … we are in a world of trouble. Within a week, a squadron of Imperial vessels is going to be dispatched from Teth, sent by our own beloved Moff, Sarn Shild. This squadron has orders to wipe us out. Not give us a bloody nose, or destroy some of our ships. I mean they’re going to do their best to see that no more smuggling happens out of Nar Shaddaa—ever. The place will be a smoking ruin.”

A murmur of fear ran through the auditorium as the assembled smugglers tried to assimilate Mako’s words.

“Fact number two,” Mako went on, “we’re on our own for this one, folks. The Hutts have just spent a bundle of credits installing brand-new planetary defense shields so they can hide behind ’em on Nal Hutta, while the Imp fleet uses up their ammo on us. The Hutts have, by report, hired a small fleet of mercs to come in and help defend them, but their primary strategy is just to let the Imps have Nar Shaddaa, and hope that’ll satisfy ’em.”

Boos, hisses, and catcalls of all kinds filled the space, drowning Mako out. The smugglers howled their rage, their threats, their anger at the Hutts. It was nearly five minutes before Mako could make himself heard again.

“Yeah, yeah! It makes me mad, too, friends, but what can you do? They’re Hutts, so whaddaya expect, folks? But anyway that’s the point. Whatever we do about this, it’s our call. The slugs ain’t gonna help us out.”

Grumbling, the crowd subsided.

“Okay, fact three. We ain’t exactly helpless, fellow sentients. We have it on good authority that the Imp squadron doesn’t include anything with super-heavy firepower. No Star Destroyers. That’s good news for us. That means we can fight back!”

Mutters of consternation swelled, mingled with yells of determination: “Yeah! We’ll fight! We’ll kick their butts! We wanna fight! Those Imps can’t shoot for sour trig-berries! We ain’t running from a bunch of Imps! We’ll make ’em sorry they attacked us!”

Mako grinned. “Hey, fellow sentients, my thoughts exactly. I intend to fight this fleet, and if it’s just me out there in my one ship, so be it. Nobody is wiping me out without a fight! Nobody!”

This time, the cheers from the crowd were deafening. “Yeah! Mako! You lead us, Mako! Yeah, we’ll fight!”

Mako motioned for quiet. “All right, those who want to fight, raise their hands, or paws or tentacles or whatever you got. Those who don’t wanna fight—I suggest you take your belongings and your families and head out right now. It’s gonna get dicey around here, real soon.”

Han, who was watching from the wings of the stage, was surprised to see that the vast majority of the assembled beings stayed. Only a couple of dozen sentients got up and left.

Mako waited until they were out of the way before he started in again. “Okay, folks. First thing we need is for everyone with some battle experience to come on down here to the front. I’m not talkin’ about winging a pirate who got too close, I’m talkin’ real combat experience in space, specially against the Imperials. C’mon down here.”

Over the next several minutes about forty sentients, most of them humanoid, made their way down front. “Okay, guys,” Mako said. “The first thing we need here in planning a counteroffensive is a leader. Anyone wanna volunteer?”

One of the humanoids, a Bothan, pointed up at the senior smuggler. “You, Mako! You be our leader!” he shouted.

The crowd reacted enthusiastically to this suggestion, and soon a swelling chant was heard. “Ma-ko! Ma-ko! Ma-ko!! MA-KO!”

The chanting went on, gaining in volume, until Han wanted to put his hands over his ears. Mako waved his arms, and silence descended. “Okay! Okay!” he said, his teeth flashing in a wide grin. “I’m real flattered, folks. And I swear to you that I’ll do my best for you. I swear it!”

Thunderous cheers erupted again.

“Okay, one more thing, then I’m gonna dismiss you for now,” Mako said. “I want you to meet my right-hand man, folks. A lot of you know him as a smuggler with a cranky ship and a big, furry sidekick. Han Solo, c’mon out here!”

Han walked out. He and Mako had basically figured that the senior smuggler would get tapped to lead the Nar Shaddaa forces. Things were going just as the two of them had figured they would.

More thunderous cheers, and a chant of “Ma-ko! Han! Mako! Han!” sprang up.

Han waved at the crowd, feeling his cheeks grow warm. He’d never before had thousands of people cheering just for him before. When he’d been Xaverri’s assistant, he’d shared the spotlight, but it wasn’t the same as this. Hearing all these people applauding him was a weird—but pleasant—experience.

“Okay, folks,” Mako said, waving again for quiet. “I’m gonna ask my combat veterans down there”—he indicated the little crowd—“to stay in close touch and check in here at The Chance Castle each morning. We’ll post notice of meetings or drills outside the auditorium, okay? Now let’s have a round of applause for our brave volunteers here!”

Cheers resounded. It was obvious that the crowd of sentients felt tremendously better, just knowing they were going to do something, instead of tamely waiting to be slaughtered.

Once the main crowd had left, Mako addressed the combat veterans. “Okay, Han and me are gonna put together a plan for our defense over the next day or so, and then we’ll brief you on it, and begin battle drills. By the time those Imps get here, everyone is going to know just what to do, and that’s a promise. If you folks know any other sentients with combat experience, bring ’em along to the briefing. Got that?”

The veterans all indicated that they did. “Good,” Mako said. “Over the next couple of days, get your ships in prime fighting condition. Shields fully charged, armor reinforced, all lasers charged … you know the drill. We need all our ships working at full capacity. So let’s get started, right?”

“Right!” they shouted.

After Mako dismissed the combat veterans, he and Han headed for one of the meeting rooms in the back of the casino, where they were joined by the rest of the smuggler “High Command”—as Mako and Han had jokingly dubbed their group. Chewbacca, Roa, Shug Ninx, Salla Zend, Lando Calrissian, Rik Duel, and Sinewy Ana Blue made up Mako’s elite group of experienced smugglers.

Mako and Han didn’t plan to tell anyone but the High Command that they were in possession of the Imperial battle plan. They figured that might make the smugglers overconfident, and that would be disastrous for their side. Also, some smugglers would sell their grandmothers for enough credits, and they couldn’t afford a security leak.

As Han sat beside him, Mako called up a holographic schematic on his datapad, and projected it above the table-top. All those present leaned forward to study the plan.

“Look here.” Mako used a laser pointer to indicate the small, holographic representations of the ships in question. “We’ve got the Imp capital ships coming out of hyperspace here, and advancing on Nar Shaddaa. And sixteen skirmish line ships, Guardian-class Customs light cruisers, they’ll be coming out of hyperspace in a shell formation to surround Nar Shaddaa. Then we’ve got two recon line vessels, that’ll be these Carrack-class cruisers, one on each side … here and here. Everyone got that?”

“Got it,” Rik Duel said.

“And then, back here in a wedge formation, are the three Dreadnaughts and the four bulk cruisers … the heavy stuff. Remember that these Dreadnaughts each carry twelve TIE fighters, and the Carrack-class light cruisers each carry four recon TIEs. That’s at least forty-four TIEs we’re going to have to deal with.”

The members of Mako’s “High Command” looked at each other with worried expressions. “Smuggler’s Run is beginning to look better and better,” Sinewy Ana Blue said. “The Imps would never be crazy enough to send a fleet into an asteroid field.”

Han was quick to reassure them. “Hey, we can handle these TIEs,” he insisted. “No shielding, don’t forget. They’re fast little suckers, true, but even a brush with a quad or turbolaser beam and …” He opened both hands and mouthed “boom.”

Mako nodded. “Han used to fly TIE fighters in combat situations, and while I was in the Academy I trained in them. The only reason we’re still here is that we’re not still doing it. TIE fighter pilots are really, really good … but that doesn’t keep most of ’em from winding up really, really dead.”

“Okay,” Lando spoke up, “so we know what the Imperial force is, and how they’re going to approach us. How do we fight back against them, using freighters and a few one-man fighters like the one Roa’s been building?”

Everyone turned to look at the senior smuggler. “Yeah, I’ve almost finished work on her,” Roa said. “She’s gonna be a sweet little ship to handle.”

“What are you naming her?” Blue asked, with an impish grin.

Roa grinned back at her. “The Lwyll, of course,” he replied.

Roa and his lady love, Lwyll, had been an on-again, off-again item on Nar Shaddaa for over ten years. Everyone knew Lwyll. The lovely blond woman was one of the few people on the Smuggler’s Moon who lived a completely legitimate life, earning an honest credit for an honest day’s work. Roa had been after her for years to come and live with him, but Lwyll would never do it. She saw him, but she saw other men, too, and Roa was wounded whenever she did it.

Still, he’d never been able to bring himself to take the ultimate plunge and ask her to marry him. Han and the other smugglers had teased Roa about his indecision. All his friends could tell that Lwyll was the best thing that had ever happened to Roa.

“You’re planning to fly Lwyll against the TIEs?” Mako asked. “What does the real Lwyll have to say about that?”

Roa sighed, and then gave his friends a rueful grin. “Believe me, she had plenty to say. You guys aren’t going to believe this … but last night I up and asked Lwyll to marry me.”

General murmurs of surprise ran around the table. “Don’t keep us in suspense,” Blue cried, “what did she say?”

“She said ‘no,’ ” Roa said. The senior smuggler’s broad, open features sagged. “She said she didn’t want to wind up a widow.”

“Can’t blame her for that,” Lando said. None of the smugglers in the room was married, and it was no accident. Living on the edge as they did, it was impossible for them to maintain anything approaching a normal family life.

Chewbacca turned to Han and spoke earnestly. The Corellian translated for those who didn’t understand Wookiee. “Roa, Chewie says that if you were a Wookiee, it’d be time for you to settle down. He thinks Lwyll is too good to lose. He likes her.”

Roa grinned. “He’s right. She’s too good to lose. That’s why this battle is my last stand as a smuggler, guys. If I live through it, I’m gonna quit this life and go straight.”

Everyone was amazed to hear this from the senior smuggler, knowing how much Roa loved the life he’d chosen. “Yep, I’m gonna do it,” Roa insisted. “And Lwyll says if I do, she’ll be my wife.”

“Well … congratulations!” Lando said. “That’s great news. You’re getting one wonderful woman, Roa.”

All the smugglers echoed the young gambler’s sentiments.

“I know it,” Roa agreed. “So … all I gotta do is make it through this battle …”

“Speaking of which, we ought to get back to it,” Mako said. “And figure out a way to beat these Imps.”

“We have one big advantage,” Roa said. “The element of surprise.”

Mako stared at him. “We know when they’re coming, so there’s no element of surprise there. But … they’re invading us. How are we supposed to surprise them?”

Roa smiled genially and waved a hand at the ceiling. “Think, my friends, think! What’s up there?”

“A shield that needs fixing a lot,” Mako said grimly.

“Past that,” Roa said.

“Traffic buoys,” Han said.

“Farther,” Roa said.

Han thought for a moment, then a slow smile crept over his face. Salla laughed. “I get it! Space junk! Dozens … hundreds … of junked spaceships and parts of spaceships.”

Roa was nodding at the tall lady smuggler. “Right. So much space junk in that ring around Nar Shaddaa that ships could hide behind it, or beneath it, or in its shadow—and then pop out and catch the Imp fleet by surprise.”

Chewie voiced a loud “Hrrrrnnnnnnn!”

Now it was Mako’s turn to nod excitedly. “I think you got something there, Roa,” he said. “And it might work. Especially if we staged a couple of ships frantically running for cover—freighters, they’ll think they’re civs—and got the Imps to chase ’em until they’re right where we want them, then”—he punched the air—“wham! We pop out of cover and clobber them!”

Excitedly the senior smuggler keyed the operation Roa had described into the datapad. The “High Command” watched as the ring of debris around Nar Shaddaa swam into view. As the Imperial skirmish ships zoomed in in pursuit of two small freighters, converging on the rightmost hemisphere (if one were facing Nal Hutta), suddenly a multitude of assorted freighters and other ships zipped out of concealment in the debris ring and zeroed in on the Imperial ships, lasers flashing.

“Okay, that should enable us to take care of a good percentage of those skirmish ships,” Han said. “But what do we do about the recon vessels, and that wedge of capital-class ships … the Dreadnaughts and bulk cruisers?”

A gloomy silence fell. Finally Mako spoke up. “I know the Hutts are hiring a merc force—probably pirates—to defend Nal Hutta. The slugs don’t give a hoot about Nar Shaddaa, not in comparison to their own precious hides, but if that merc captain has any smarts, he’ll recognize that we could add significantly to his firepower. Maybe we can get him, whoever he is, to take part in the battle. It’s worth a try, at least.”

Lando was staring morosely at the creeping holographic image of the bulk cruisers and Dreadnaughts advancing on Nar Shaddaa. “Those pirates are apt to have superior firepower, right?”

Mako nodded. “Right. They’ll probably have some captured Imp vessels that they’ve modified. Maybe even some heavy weaponry like proton torpedoes. But their ammo would be limited. It’s hard to just buy proton torpedoes to arm pirated Imp vessels. The Imps kinda frown on having their own ships used against ’em.”

He said this last so dryly that a chuckle ran around the table.

Han was studying the wedge of capital-class ships. “All of these ships have forward-firing main guns,” he said. “Too bad we can’t hit them with a flank attack. But we just don’t have the ships to do it, if the main part of our fleet will still be engaging those skirmish ships and the TIEs.”

“Maybe that’s where we can convince the mercs to help us,” Mako said thoughtfully. “If they attacked on the Imp flank, they’d stand a decent chance of crippling one of those big ships, and that would be a ship they could commandeer after the battle. They’d love that!”

“Yeah … provided we could create some kind of diversion so the pirates could flank them,” Han said.

Rik Duel stroked his short, elegant beard while he thought. “What we need is another fleet to come at them in a head-on run,” he said.

“But we don’t have enough ships to divide our forces that much,” Roa said. “If we do, we’re likely to lose everything.”

“If we don’t, we’re likely to lose Nar Shaddaa,” Lando pointed out. “I’m no ex-Imp officer like Han here is, but it seems to me that we’ve got to do whatever it takes to keep these big ships from turning and blasting away at our moon’s shields. They’re old, and it wouldn’t take too many salvos to disable them. Then they’d level the place.”

“Lando’s right,” Shug Ninx said. “We need something to keep those big ships occupied so the mercs—or whoever—can make a flank attack. Maybe we can … I don’t know … divert their attention somehow.”

“Well, a formation of ships coming at them head-on would certainly get their attention,” Salla said. “Question is, where do we get them? We’re going to have our hands full over here”—she pointed into the holographic display—“fighting these skirmish ships and TIEs.”

Han had been staring into the holographic display, thinking how real the minuscule fleet appeared, down to the tiny TIE fighters. Too bad, he thought, we can’t project a hologram at the Imps and make them believe they’re under attack …

The idea suddenly coalesced in his brain. “That’s it!” he shouted. “That could work!”

Conversation around the table ceased, and everyone stared at the Corellian. Han grinned at his friends excitedly. “Hey, I think I may know somebody who can provide us with that head-on attack force. We can use them as a diversion, for long enough to distract those heavy cruisers!”

Chewbacca had obviously followed Han’s thinking. The Wookiee banged his fist on the table and roared his approval.

The remainder of the group, however, stared at Han, confused, apparently completely in the dark. “Huh?” Lando said. “Who? What?”

Han ignored his friend. Leaping to his feet, he gestured at Mako. “I’ve gotta put in a call—does the manager here have a comm unit?”

The manager of The Chance Castle was only too happy to allow Han to use his unit. All of the big casinos knew that a major Imperial raid would be very bad for business …