Han removes Alfreda’s helmet – he wants to see the bounty hunter whom he has chased across the galaxy. He finds a Togorian female, as dainty and petite as any of her race. Her slit pupils are set in emerald eyes, now still and lifeless – though Han cannot picture the eyes as anything but cold and cruel in life. A dozen carefully clipped whiskers grow beneath a small fine-featured nose. Her mouth hangs open to reveal a predatory set of snow-white fangs. An immense head of flame-red hair frames her prominent cheekbones.
Leia stands beside Han. “Doesn’t look like a killer, does she?”
Han drops the helmet. “I’m beginning to distrust appearances altogether,” he says.
“Why’s that?” Leia asks.
Han studies her carefully. He does not want to tell her the full story – not yet anyway. “I don’t know. Just a feeling, I guess.” He steps behind her and unbinds her hands.
“I know what you mean,” Leia answers. “I wasn’t sure you’d come after me. Thanks – for all you did.”
“I couldn’t leave you in Alfreda’s hands. It was my fault.” Han pauses. “I must have known that all along.”
She turns to face him. “You had a doubt?”
Han knows better than to admit the truth. “I came, but I’m not sure why. Sometimes I think I have a special feeling for you, Leia.”
Leia’s eyes betray her surprise. They also hint at something else; something she may be afraid to admit. “That’s a very nice thing to say. Even if I don’t always say it, Han. I think you’re a -” She struggles to finish the sentence.
“A what?” Han asks eagerly.
“Captain Solo? Are you -” The Imperial commander questions, and the magic of the moment is lost. Han glares at Sodarra for interrupting, but when he turns back, Leia is all business, and all Princess, once more. What had she been about to say?
“It is finished, then,” the Imperial says. He leads the way back into the cantina, where Chewie and the stormtroopers are warily eyeing each other. “The chronometer?”
Han looks toward Sodarra’s men. They are not prepared for this flight – even if the enemy consists of only a man, a woman, and a Wookiee. Nevertheless, he knows it will be safer if they are not near.
“Why don’t we go back to the Falcon?” Han says cautiously. “Just you and us?”
Sodarra smiles. “Yes, why not? But I insist on equal numbers.” He motions to two men, then leads the way into the dry heat of Mos Eisley’s dusty streets. Leia and Chewbacca follow Han.
Halfway to the spaceport, Han fingers the chronometer. “Now your weapons.”
“You first,” Sodarra says.
“I keep my pistol,” Han says. “Deactivate your bowcaster, Chewbacca.”
“Very well,” Sodarra reluctantly agrees. “And I will keep my sidearm. They will do us no good holstered.”
Sodarra’s men toss their blaster rifles away. “We are now evenly matched,” he says. “None of us is in condition to wrestle. The agreement?”
“When we get to the berth.”
Sodarra scowls, but he nods. They resume walking.
“Agreement?” Leia demands.
“I am sorry, Princess,” Sodarr says. “The terms of the agreement prohibit disclosure of its terms. As Captain Solo and I are both men of honor -“
Leia snorts.
“This must remain between us.”
“Thanks,” Han whispers. If Leia ever finds out, she’ll never admit – whatever it was she’d been about to say in that lull after Alfreda’s defeat.
“It will go as hard on me if anyone discovers our arrangement,” Sodarra admits.
Outside the berth, Han deactivates the lock-explosive, then turns the chronometer over to Sodarra. Leia watches with interest.