… a full-grown ysalamiri, the Mon Calamari was saying, and suddenly Leia felt an enormous, murky presence in the Force pressing her away from the Prime. She looked up and found him staring in her direction, his blue eyes shining like a pair of oncoming blaster bolts. Leia raised her chin and held his gaze. Her vision grew dark around the edges, and soon she could see nothing but his eyes.
He winked and looked away, and Leia felt herself falling.
“Whoa!” Han caught her under her arms. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Leia allowed Han to hold her as her vision returned to normal. “The king is Force-sensitive.”
“Yeah?” Han replied. “I’ve never seen you react that way before.”
“Okay, he’s very Force-sensitive.” Leia gathered her legs beneath her. “We might know him.”
“You’re kidding.” Han studied the Prime for a moment, then shook his head. “Who is it?”
“I don’t know yet,” Leia said.
A pair of insects emerged from the XR808g carrying the Yoggoy guide that Juun had been assigned. The chitin of its thorax was pitted and charred, three of its limbs hung beside its body loose and swinging, and both of its antennae had been broken off. The Prime pressed his melted brow to the insect’s, then raised the remains of a three-fingered hand and began to stroke the stumps of its antennae.
“An Ewok did that?” Han asked Juun.
The Sullustan nodded. “Tarfang is not the gentle soul he seems.”
A contented boom reverberated from the chest of the wounded guide, and the Prime stood and started toward the Falcon. It was impossible to read the expression behind his grotesque mask of a face, but the briskness of his pace suggested how he felt about what he had just seen.
“The king doesn’t look very happy,” Leia said. “Maybe you should wait aboard the Falcon, Captain Juun.”
“That won’t be necessary,” Juun said. “The guide assured me there would be no-“
The Prime raised two fingers and pointed at the Falcon’s laser cannons. There was a thunk as the turrets broke their collar locks, then the muffled scream of grating servomotors.
“Hey!” Han protested.
The turrets continued to rotate-tearing up their internal maneuvering mechanisms-until the cannons faced aft.
“Hostile action under way,” BD-8 reported. “Permission to-“
The Prime raised a finger toward him, and the request ended in a garbled blast of static. The harsh smell of melting circuits filled the air, then the droid crashed to the ground. Han glanced over his shoulder.
“Bloah!” he gasped. “Can Luke do that?”
“Maybe I’ll wait aboard the Falcon after all,” Juun said.
The Sullustan turned and raced up the boarding ramp-and the Prime surprised Leia by letting him. The ghastly figure crossed the last few steps and stopped in front of the Solos, towering over Han by a good third of a meter. For a moment, he stood glaring down, his breath coming in audible wheezes that suggested badly damaged lungs, his blue eyes sliding back and forth between their faces.
Then Cakhmaim and Meewalh appeared at the top of the boarding ramp with power blasters in hand. Leia started to order the Noghri to stand down, but she was no match for their reflexes. They shouldered their weapons and yelled for the Solos to drop to their bellies.
The Prime flicked his wrist, and both Noghri went tumbling back into the Falcon’s main corridor. He stared in their direction for a moment, no doubt checking to make sure they would not surprise him later, then turned back to Leia and Han.
“Captain Solo.” His voice was a deep, gravelly rasp that made Leia’s throat close with empathic pain. “Princess Leia. We weren’t expecting you.” He glanced skyward, where Luke and Mara were still circling onstation in the Shadow. “Nor the Masters Skywalker.”
“Sorry about that,” Han retorted. “We tried to comm, but it turns out there’s no HoloNet in the Unknown Regions.”
“No HoloNet.” The Prime’s upper lip quivered, straining to smile, but not quite able to break free of its scar-tissue cast. “We hadn’t considered that.”
He turned away and walked under the Falcon, craning his inflexible neck around awkwardly to inspect the ship’s belly. He made a complete circuit like this, pausing beneath the cargo lift, rising on his toes to peer at the seals around the missile tube doors, kicking the landing struts. Finally, he reached up and touched the carbon-scored hull.
“We never liked the black,” the Prime said. “White is better. White is your color.”
Leia’s mind flashed back to the Yavin 4 visit, to a handsome blond-haired boy lying unconscious on the floor after being bitten by Jacen’s crystal snake-a handsome boy dressed in the haughty scarlet, gold, and purple of the Bornaryn shipping empire.