The diverse number of beings patronising the spa surprised Luke. There were very few students and he guessed this was due to most of them having their own private facilities. But the place was literally crawling with spacers. Local shuttle crews, traders, Imperials and thinly disguised smugglers.

Not wanting to appear conspicuous, Luke and Solo had donned some of the local garb. Lightweight, loose-fitting pants and sleeveless shirts more suited to the sticky climate, while their own clothes were relegated to their packs and their blasters to Chewie's bag. The Wookiee's bowcaster was a little more difficult to conceal, so they didn't bother, doubting that anyone would dare to question him about it, and he kept it slung over his shoulder.

As they walked out of the facility feeling wonderfully refreshed, Luke noticed with some surprise that Solo had been marked by the Kivvidan Shaman just as he and the princess had. The sleeveless nature of Solo's shirt was revealing the edge of the design. But instead of drawing on the Corellian's chest, the Shaman had put his intricate design on Solo's shoulder blade, over the scar left by the Imperials.

Luke drew attention to it and, from his response, Solo was anything but impressed. He growled irritably as Chewbacca forced him to move his shirt aside so they could get a good look at it. Solo had apparently discovered it while in the spa, had wasted half his shower time trying to scrub it off, and the fact that he didn't translate the Wookiee's amused observations for Luke suggested he was totally pissed about it. Luke glanced down at the blue lines on his own chest and wondered how the princess was getting on.

Luke spied a public computer terminal nearby and growled, waving his hand disconsolately at it, "Where are the 'droids when we need them? They'd've probably been able to locate Lowmon."

"Lowmon's probably dead, kid."

"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, they'd save us some time..."

Both lapsed into momentary silence, considering their options, then Solo frowned.

"Wait a minute..." he headed for the terminal and Luke and Chewie followed.

"What?"

"I just thought of something..." Solo reached the terminal expecting the usual minimal technology for direct human access and was pleasantly surprised to find a keypad. He smiled at Luke, "No 'droids on Galadan; they're making this easy for us."

"Han, this is for tourists; you're hardly going to get into the central computer with it."

"On the contrary," Solo muttered, happily keying in instructions. "One of the big drawbacks of a planet-wide network is that they are easily sliced into."

"Are you saying you can get in? Surely we'd need some kind of code?"

"Well, we have one small advantage."

"What?"

Chewie rumbled and Solo's confidence dimmed slightly. "So what if I haven't done it for a while?" The terminal changed tone slightly and Solo stiffened, "Ah, here we go..."

An emotionless voice issued from the terminal requesting voice identification for Professor Perron Solo.

Solo cleared his throat and said, in an uncanny imitation of his father's voice and intonation, "Professor Perron Solo."

There was a tense moment while the computer considered, then, "Voiceprint and Ident confirmed," it announced. "Access granted."

Solo shot Chewie an 'I-told-you-so' look and grinned at Luke who seemed suitably impressed.

"What'd I tell you?" he crowed.

"Where'd you learn to do that?" Luke wanted to know.

"Dad was pretty high up as far as Imperial boffins go. Wasn't a planet we went to where he didn't have some sort of exec level access." Solo grinned, "Some of my most valuable information I got in Dad's name."

Luke was totally scandalised. "Did your father ever find out?"

"Nope." Solo turned back to the computer and said, once again in his father's voice, "Requesting access to student file: Treis Lowmon."

The response was immediate. "File closed. Student, Treis Lowmon missing, presumed dead."

"Elaborate," Solo ordered and a stream of information flowed across the small screen. "Says he went off on a solo field study," he told Chewie and Luke.

"What?" Luke echoed Solo's disbelief.

"Mmn," Solo agreed, "sounds somewhat suicidal. Still, you never know; I've seen uni-students do some pretty stupid things."

"Lowmon wasn't a uni-student," Luke reminded him. "Not really." He thought for a moment then said, "Maybe he found something?" Solo rolled his eyes and Luke floundered, "No, I mean..." He struggled to find the right words, trying to figure out just what he did mean. He moved in closer to the screen, hoping the text would help. "Let me look at it."

Solo stepped aside, but warned, "Just don't ask it any questions or you'll lock us out."

Luke tried not to feel exasperated with the Corellian and concentrated on the information in front of him, collating it with what they knew. The answer was there, he just couldn't grasp it.

Then he found what he was looking for and pointed to one word: 'solo'.

"What if he was looking for your father?"

Solo frowned and shook his head, "That's taking it out of context entirely."

"Think about it, Han," Luke insisted. "We know why the Empire's here, thanks to your father. If Lowmon figured out your father was the original source, he may have tried to contact him." He watched Solo's face as he followed that line of thought to its obvious conclusion. "And if they traced Lowmon to your father..."

Solo hastily quit the terminal and looked around with an urgency he always felt when he thought he was being hunted. If the Empire was seriously looking for his father, this terminal would be swarming with Imperials in minutes.

"Let's go," he said, and stalked away.

…..

The minute they stepped out of the medcentre, Perron started hurrying.

"What is it?" Leia asked, looking for the cause of his sudden urgency.

"We have to get out of here."

"Why? Do you think he recognised me?"

"Not directly. Not yet. But right now he'll be doing a DNA scan and trace and-"

"That won't tell him anything," she said stiffly.

A slight smile touched Perron's lips as he regarded her, dropping his guard for the first time since their argument and voicing his long held suspicion, "You're not an Organa, are you?"

Leia avoided the question, seemingly engrossed in the path he had them on, "Is this the way to the spa?"

Perron nodded and continued, "Nevertheless, he knows you've been through Imperial Interrogation. That alone will make it imperative for him to find out who you are."

Leia knew as well as Perron that, just on visual data, Tevorac would have that information in no time.

"I've compromised your position here, haven't I?" she stated flatly.

"Oh, probably," he muttered, "but I'm used to that wherever Han is concerned. What I am interested to know is what you did to warrant Imperial Interrogation?"

Leia gave him a haunted look and shuddered, trying not to let the memories surface. Tried to focus on the feel of sunshine on her body and the pleasant walk towards the spa.

"I was a prisoner on the Death Star," she murmured finally.

Perron was impressed. "Finally guessed you were working for the Rebellion, did they?"

Leia replied grimly, "No, they already knew that. I stole the schematic information for the Death Star."

Perron grinned and wagged a finger at her. An action so like his son's that Leia had to fight an instinctively hostile reaction.

"And wouldn't tell them where you put the plans?" he scolded.

"Why do you think they chose Alderaan?" she snapped bitterly.

Perron sobered, looking at her intently, and she met his gaze. He could see pain and guilt in her eyes, but, more than anything, determination. Determination that, for as long as she lived, for as long as she could fight, something like that would never happen again.

…

Luke, Solo and Chewbacca walked into the open-air section of the student dining facility looking particularly innocuous. Except for Chewie; he still got wide-eyed looks and a wide berth.

The facility was large and rambling, catering for all tastes and account balances. From basic main hall dining to private candle-lit elegance. They chose the open-air section because it was coolest and smelled the least.

A holographic band was playing loud music in the crowded main hall, and carried clearly out to the equally crowded garden area.

They found a suitable table and sat, and Luke stated the obvious, "They're not here yet."

Solo, who was feeling particularly worried about the turn things seemed to be taking and chagrined at their lack of success at finding anything useful about Lowmon, rolled his eyes and mumbled sourly, "You don't say?"

Luke glanced at him and pointedly shut up.

…..

At the other end of the garden area, in a slightly more opulent and therefore less crowded section, sat two men. One was of average size and build with closely cropped white-blonde hair and piercing, steel-blue eyes. He wore the comfortable clothing of a seasoned spacer, but the weaponry he openly wore left no doubt as to his real profession.

The other man was a visual nightmare. Overweight and filthy, he looked like he hadn't cared for his appearance in years, and he ate with the same disdain, much to the disgust of the wealthier patrons at nearby tables. Personally, he took great delight at the sensation he caused. Relishing in the discomfort of others, their reactions only encouraged him to new and greater heights of depravity and at present he was flaunting his not entirely human heritage by licking the inside of his nose with his very blue tongue.

They noticed the Wookiee and, subsequently the men with him, and both smiled dangerously.

The neater of the two leaned back into his seat, absently tapping his fingers on the back of his chair. "Well, well, well," he muttered to no one in particular. "This is interesting." His voice was well modulated with the touch of a Chandrilese accent.

Blue-Tongue redirected his tongue to his lips and hissed wickedly, "Sssolo..."

"Whatever could have brought him to this little backwater?"

"Cargo? Who cares? We'll be rich!"

"We are already rich, my friend." Steel-blue eyes never left the Corellian and the Wookiee. "And it's not like Solo to ship poisons."

Blue-Tongue sniffed nervously. "Why isn't he armed?"

"Oh, this is too intriguing!" The neater man leaned forward. "Who are they waiting for?"

"Or what?" Blue-Tongue interposed.

The other man smiled, "My guess is who..."