You sure he didn’t happen to mention what he was doing all the way out here?” Han asked, slogging through the muddy streets. If it was mud. It smelled more like raw sewage.

Leia shook her head. “Just said it was important that we come.”

Han didn’t have anything against the idea of coming to the rescue. Obviously the kid had gotten himself into some kind of trouble, as usual. Han just wished he’d found trouble a little closer to home.

Back at the hotel, they had autovalets, a greenputt course, fresh-squeezed juma juice, and bloody nerf steak — all paid in full by the Delayan government. Whereas here, on the outer edge of the city, all they had were abandoned construction sites, mounds of festering garbage, and sewage. Scrawny rodents with patches of greenish-yellow fur scampered in the gutters, and bludflies swarmed overhead. Han was sure he’d caught a glimpse of a borrat burrowing under a nearby building, at least two meters from tusk to tail. Not that Han had anything against life on the shady side of town — but a little luxury every once in a while never hurt.

The pubtrans flitter didn’t even extend to this neighborhood, and the driver they’d hired had refused to drive them more than halfway. “You won’t find anyone willing to take you to that part of town,” he’d warned them. “You’d have to be crazy.”

More like stubborn, Han thought, glancing at the princess. She’d just shrugged and insisted they walk. He didn’t even know why he was still on this planet. One more day, he told himself. Then I’m out.

Chewbacca issued a low, gutteral growl. The Wookiee was crankier than usual.

“You know why you couldn’t be the one to stay behind,” Han said. “If that deputy minister or his cronies try to track down the princess, someone needs to be there and talk ’em out of it. And something tells me Elad will do the job better than two droids and a Wookiee.”

They hadn’t been forbidden from leaving the hotel — not exactly. But that was because they hadn’t asked. They’d snuck out the window, leaving Elad and the droids behind to explain things if it was discovered they were gone.

Chewbacca growled again.

“Because I don’t want them here, bugging me!” Han said. “The little one’s okay, but that protocol droid …” He shook his head. “Let’s just say the less time I spend with him, the less chance he has of getting turned into a scrap-pile.”

The Wookiee let out a mournful groan.

“Not so bad?” Han exclaimed. “Easy for you to say. The rustbucket’s terrified of you. Has some crazy idea you’re going to rip off his arms.”

Chewbacca barked out a reply.

“Well, okay, so I am the one who gave him that idea. I just wanted him to shut his mouth for five seconds. Can you blame me?” Han swore under his breath as his boot squished into something soft and pungent. It looked like it had once been alive — but he didn’t look too close.

“Han,” Leia said quietly.

“I know, I know.” Han scowled down at his boot, trying to scrape off the worst of it. “The bag of bolts comes in handy sometimes. Sometimes.”

“No, Han. Look!”

Three men — No, he realized, not men. Boys — stood before them, blocking the narrow road. They stood mutely with their hands raised, palms up.

“What do you think they want?” Leia murmured. “Money?”

Han shot her a sharp look. Every once in a while, she said something that reminded him of the distance between them. It wasn’t the kind you could cross in a ship. “Well, I doubt they’re begging for the fun of it, Your Highness.”

Without hesitating, Leia pulled out a pouch of credits, hurrying toward the boys. Something familiar about the setup clicked in Han’s brain. “Leia, wait —”

Too late.

As she dropped a handful of credits into the tallest boy’s outstretched hands, he snatched her wrist and twisted it behind her back. A rusted vibroblade appeared in his other hand. He held it to her throat.

“You kids crazy?” Han shouted. “You really want to face off against a Wookiee?”

To help get the point across, Chewbacca shook his furry fists in the air, roaring.

The other two kids looked nervous, but the one in charge didn’t flinch. “Just give us all your credits and we’ll leave you alone.”

“And what makes you so sure we’ll leave you alone?” Han shot back, his fingers twitching toward his blaster. Not that he’d shoot at a bunch of kids. But if he could scare them, or cause some kind of distraction …

He shook his head, tempted to laugh. Served him right, falling for such a worn-out stunt. He’d pulled it on more than a few clueless oldies himself back when he was a kid.

Not that he’d ever been dumb enough to attack a Wookiee.

“Do you know who I am?” Leia asked in an icy voice. “I’m —”

“Not the kind of gal who scares easy,” Han said quickly. Talk about not having a clue. Did she really think it would help to tell them she was a princess? A rich princess? “And neither is my friend here.”

Chewbacca roared again, louder this time.

“So how ’bout you put down the knife —”

“How ’bout you stop wasting my time, old man,” the kid snarled, “and hand over the credits.”

“Old man?” Han took a step forward. He didn’t need a blaster. Not to handle this punk. Chewbacca growled. “No thanks, buddy,” Han said. “This one’s all mine.”

Han didn’t hear the footsteps behind him, and he didn’t hear the blaster fire. He just saw the laser bolt slam into the kid’s blade, centimeters from Leia’s neck. It was a clean hit — the blade went flying. The kid backed away, examining his hand like he couldn’t believe it was still in one piece.

Han couldn’t believe it either. It was one of the cleanest shots he’d ever seen. He whirled around. A plump old man stood behind him, his jaunty grin mostly covered by a thick, graying beard. Han scoured the streets, convinced this couldn’t be the guy who’d fired the shot. But there was no one else around.

And the old guy was holding a smoking blaster. “Thought we agreed you kids weren’t going to do this anymore!” he called out.

The lead kid reddened and retrieved his blade, shoving it into his back pocket. “Wasn’t planning to,” the kid said sullenly. “Not my fault they showed up in this neighborhood. They were asking for it.”

“Come on, Mazi,” the man said sternly. “Try it again and the deal’s off.”

“Yeah. Fine.” He glared at Han. “But I could’ve taken you, old man. No question.” He nodded to his friends and, without a word, they slipped away into the darkness.”

Han grinned. The kid had spunk, you had to give him that. “Friends of yours?” he asked the old man.

“I pay them to run errands for me, do odd jobs, and the like, as long as they promise to stay out of trouble. That’s the deal.” He was talking to Han — but all the while, he was staring at Leia.

She glared back. “You’re alive,” she said flatly.

The man looked down at himself, as if examining the evidence. “So it would seem.”

Leia had never expected to see him again.

“Princess.” He took a step toward her, his arms outstretched, then hesitated and dropped them to his sides. “I’d heard you were here.”

“And I —” Leia stopped, overwhelmed by a swirl of conflicting emotions. “I thought you were still on Alderaan.”

He smiled gently. “I had some business on Delaya. I arrived here the day before the attack.”

“I’m glad,” she said flatly.

“This guy a friend of yours, Highness?” Han said.

“No.” The word came automatically.

“Fess Ilee,” he said, shaking hands with Han and nodding toward Chewbacca. “I am a friend of Bail Organa’s.”

“He was a friend to my father,” Leia clarified. “But my father is dead.”

“I am and always will be his friend,” Fess said steadily.

He was a man of soft, rounded edges, with a belly bulging over his belt and the makings of a double chin. His fingers were stubby, his nose bulbous, and his mind seemed to be as fuzzy as the back of his neck. Leia had never been sure of his age — most of the time, he looked far older than her father, weathered and weak. But there had been moments when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught him moving with a surprising grace, the years falling away from his suddenly youthful face.

He lacked every quality her father had possessed: nobility, courage, wisdom. Though he called himself a botanist, his main skill seemed to be currying favor. He grinned and nodded with greasy ease, laughing heartily at the weakest joke, complimenting the gaudiest gown. And yet Bail Organa had spoken of him privately with respect.

“How are you?” Fess asked.

“How do you think?” Leia snapped. Then she steadied herself. As a princess and a Senator she’d grown adept at dealing gracefully with her enemies. And Fess wasn’t an enemy, he was just a harmless parasite. “I’m fine,” she said, more politely. “Thank you for helping us with those boys.”

Fess shook his head. “I can’t stand to see children forced to make a life for themselves on the streets.”

He didn’t sound like the Fess she remembered — but then, they were all different now.

“We should be going,” Leia said.

“I’ll come along,” Fess suggested. “It’s dangerous out here alone.”

“I’m hardly alone,” she said, glancing at Chewbacca, who towered over the humans by several feet. The Wookiee rumbled in agreement.

“I know this city,” Fess argued. “I can be of assistance. Perhaps more than you know.”

Han snorted. “What is it with you old men and your delusions of grandeur?” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“You just reminded me of someone else who thought we could use his help,” Han said. “Didn’t end so well for him.”

“Perhaps he lacked my skill set,” Fess said mildly. “But — as you wish.”

As they said their good-byes, Leia wondered if she would ever see him again, and if she cared.

She needn’t have bothered. They were only a few blocks away when Han snuck a glance over his shoulder. “That’s one stubborn old man.”

Leia stopped short. “He’s following us?” She whirled around, but the streets were empty.

“Ducks into an alley every time I look back,” Han said. “Sneaky fellow, but not sneaky enough. Guess he doesn’t know who he’s dealing with, does he, Chewie?”

The Wookiee barked a yes.

“You want me to run him off?” Han asked.

Leia shook her head, and began walking again. “If he wants to follow us so badly, let him.”

From everything she knew about Fess, she suspected his offers of assistance were as empty as his head. Still, there was a strange reassurance in knowing he was following her. As if some childish, irrational part of her believed what her father had once told her: that no harm would come to her as long as Fess Ilee was alive.