.
Mako Spince was ten years older than Han, and they couldn’t have had more opposite childhoods. Han had been a child of the streets until the cruel, sadistic Garris Shrike had taken him in and introduced him to a life of crime. Mako was the son of an important Imperial Senator.
He’d been brought up with every advantage—but he’d lacked Han’s determination.
Mako’s main interest while at the Imperial Academy had been in having fun.
Mako had been an upperclassman, two years ahead of Han. Despite their disparate backgrounds, the two had become good friends, racing swoops, hosting clandestine wild parties, playing practical jokes on stodgy instructors. Mako was always the instigator in their mischief. Han had been the cautious one, never forgetting how hard he’d had to work to get into the Academy. The younger cadet was careful never to get caught—but Mako, confident that his father’s connections would protect him from consequences, had dared anything and everything in his pursuit of the perfect joke, the most daring escapade.
Destroying the Academy’s mascot moon had been his biggest—and last—prank as an Imperial cadet.
Han had known at the time that something was up, something big. Mako had tried to induce him to come along when he’d planned the breakin to the physics lab. But Han had had a test to study for, so he’d refused.
If he’d known what Mako was planning, he’d have tried to talk his friend out of it.
That night, while Han plotted orbits and worked on his “Economics of Hyperspace Troop Movement” presentation, Mako broke into Professor Cai-Meg’s physics lab. He stole a gram of antimatter, then a small, one-man shuttle and a spacesuit from the Academy shuttle hangar, and took off.
Landing on the small planetoid that was Carida’s nearest of three satellites, Mako planted the antimatter capsule in the middle of the huge Academy Seal that had been laser-carved into the satellite decades ago, back when Carida was still a training planet for the troops of the now-vanished Republic. Mako triggered the antimatter explosion from a safe distance in space, intending to blast the seal right off the face of the little moon.
But Mako had underestimated the power of the antimatter he’d stolen.
The entire satellite blew up in a cataclysmic display that Han and the other cadets witnessed from the planet’s surface.
Mako was immediately one of the prime suspects. He’d pulled so many pranks in his time, caused so much mayhem, that the officers began checking on him almost before the debris from the shattered satellite had either plunged planetward or drifted into alignment, forming a disjointed ring around Carida.
Han was also a suspect, but fortunately for him, a friend had come over to see him for some astrophysics coaching right at the time of the breakin. Han’s alibi was airtight.
But Mako’s wasn’t.
At the hearing, the prosecution had alleged that Mako was a terrorist who’d infiltrated the Academy. Han himself had volunteered to give testimony under truth drugs in order to clear his friend of that charge—and they’d had to accept his word that Mako had acted alone, intending only to play a prank. So Mako was spared the charge of terrorism. In the end, they’d just expelled the senior cadet.
Mako’s father had come through one last time, and given Mako the credits to set himself up in business. Little did the Senator suspect that his only son would spend the money on a ship, and contraband to stock it with.
Then Mako had disappeared, but Han knew that Mako Spince wasn’t the sort to just quietly fade into the background. Not Mako. Where there was excitement to be had, and credits to be accrued, that’s where you’d find Mako Spince.
Han was betting that someone on Nar Shaddaa would know where his friend was.
Han watched as the Princess drifted closer and closer to the large moon.
Nar Shaddaa was actually the size of a small planet, almost a third the size of Nal Hutta. It was hard to make out details through the shield, but he could see lights flashing.
As the Princess neared the Smuggler’s Moon, a section of the haze that marked the shield suddenly disappeared, and Han knew they’d dropped a shield to admit their ship. The transport went past the shield, and moments later they entered atmosphere.
Now Han could see the source of the flashing lights–huge holosigns that advertised goods and services. As they came closer, he was able to read one. “Sentients–Get It Here! Anything goes! If you have the credits, we have who—or what—you want!”
Just a real classy place, Han thought sarcastically. He’d seen signs for pleasure-houses before, but never anything this blatant.
As the Princess dropped “down” toward a large clear space atop a massive pile of permacrete, Han realized this must be their intended landing site.