Solo switched places with Chewbacca, the Wookie grateful for the opportunity to

relinquish the controls. As the Corellian moved aft to check the extent of the

damage, a determined-looking Leia passed him in the corridor.

"What do you think, sweetheart?" Solo inquired, well pleased with himself.

"Not a bad bit of rescuing. You know, sometimes I amaze even myself."

"That doesn't sound too hard," she admitted readily. "The important thing is

not my safety, but the fact that the information in the R-2 'droid is still intact."

"What's that 'droid carrying that's so important, anyway?"

Leia considered the blazing starfield forward. "Complete technical schematics

of the battle station. I only hope that when the data is analyzed, a weakness can be

found. Until then, until the station itself is destroyed, we must go on. This war

isn't over yet."

"It is for me," objected the pilot. "I'm not on this mission for your revolution.

Economics interest me, not politics. There's business to be done under any

government. And I'm not doing it for you, Princess. I expect to be well paid for

risking my ship and my hide."

"You needn't worry about your reward," she assured him sadly, turning to leave.

"If money is what you love...that's what you will receive."

On leaving the cockpit she saw Luke coming forward, and she spoke softly to

him in passing. "Your friend is indeed a mercenary. I wonder if he really cares

about anything-or anybody."

Luke stared after her until she disappeared into the main hold area, then

whispered, "I do...I care." Then he moved into the cockpit and sat in the seat

Chewbacca had just vacated.

"What do you think of her, Han?"

Solo didn't hesitate. "I try not to."

Luke probably hadn't intended his response to be audible, but Solo overheard his

murmur of "Good" none the less.

"Still," Solo ventured thoughtfully, "she's got a lot of spirit to go with her sass.

I don't know, do you think it's possible for a Princess and a guy like me...?"

"No," Luke cut him off sharply. He turned and looked away.

Solo smiled at the younger man's jealousy, uncertain in his own mind whether he

had added the comment to bait his na?ve friend-or because it was the truth.

Yavin was not a habitable world. The huge gas giant was patterned with pastel

high-altitude cloud formations. Here and there the softly lambent atmosphere was

molded by cyclonic storms composed of six-hundred-kilometer-per-hour winds which

boiled rolling gases up form the Yavinesque troposphere. It was a world of lingering

beauty and quick death for any who might try to penetrate to its comparatively small

core of frozen liquids.

Several of the giant planet's numerous moons, however, were planet-sized

themselves, and of these, three could support humanoid life. Particularly inviting

was the satellite designated by the system's discoverers as number four. It shone like

an emerald in Yavin's necklace of moons, rich with plant and animal life. But it was

not listed among those worlds supporting human settlement. Yavin was located too

far from settled regions of the galaxy.
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