Soon after Peli's new lease had been signed, two things happened: Kopecz Baaa-cap vanished one day while she was busy elsewhere, and a letter came from Boba Fett's palace. It was signed by Fennec Shand, and that was enough to tear her away from daydreaming about the pretty Marshall.

Peli read the first sentence aloud, for the benefit of the curious pit droids; it comprised the information of Baaa-cap having moved to the daimyo's before going off-world on some secret affair.

"When he left us yesterday, he imagined that the business which took him off-world might be concluded in three or four days; but as we are now certain it cannot be so, he gave me the mission to break off his lease from you. I sincerely hope you'll find another to sublet your room, and that your business will be so booming that you won't miss his rent."

Peli sat down with a groan. Her budget had just taken a bad hit. One of the droids put its flat hat-like head against her shoulder; she absent-mindedly petted it. The podracer had left her hangar, but she had had bad luck with what flight control had sent her. Fueling up ships could only get her so far; she needed a big repair job, and soon, or she'd have to grovel to her landlord to get an extension. Not that she'd have to go far for that: Lortha Peel had taken to visiting frequently, and his grating presence did nothing to improve Peli's mood. Notwithstanding his less than stellar qualities, he also had a shrewd eye and seemed to delight in Peli's financial plight.

A single event, however, lifted Peli Motto's mood: the Mandalorian's silver starfighter docked in her hangar. Forgotten were her hardships when she saw his silhouette of shining beskar, and forgotten were her landlord's nuisance of an existence when that little green goblin tottered to her.

"Look at you," she cried, lifting him high in her arms, "you haven't grown an inch, how precious is your ugly little head!"

The child cooed and gave her a clumsy hug; she cradled him and made faces to make him laugh. The Mandalorian's unforgiving presence, however, called for her attention.

"You better have taken good care of my ship," said Peli, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "No more shootouts."

"No more shootouts," he agreed in an even voice.

Turning once again to the child, she gave a wide smile and told him that, for once, his father had been responsible, would you believe that. The child babbled in apparent agreement. The Mandalorian cocked his head. Peli would have sworn his eyes rolled all the way to the back of his head.

"Anyway. What brings you back to the ol' sandpit?"

"I have business with Boba Fett. Can you take care of the child for me while I'm gone?"

Peli bit her lip in feigned indecision before waving her free hand. "I don't know, it'll set you back a lot," she said. "The little devil's a handful."

"Tell me about it," chuckled the Mandalorian, putting a small bag of credits on a nearby crate. He left, his cape billowing after his great strides until Peli called him back, saying that now she parked the speedbikes on the other side. The Mandalorian backtracked, keeping the same martial pace. He reminded Peli of a cat she had once owned; Princess Carolyn had been the best at appearing unfazed when she had to abruptly change course mid-jump.

It appeared that the child's abilities had much developed while he had been away. Peli soon found out, when he took to lifting the droids into thin air for fun — but he stopped when she scolded him, telling him the poor things were afraid and it wasn't nice to make them panic like that. Not without pouting, he resorted to keep to the odd bolt and screw, chattering softly to himself as he explored the hangar under Peli's attentive surveillance.

To her annoyance, her landlord once again dropped by during the afternoon.

"May I hope, mistress Motto, for a private audience?" he asked, pompous as ever.

"Ah, sorry but I'm busy," replied Peli, pointing to the docked ship as proof. "That's a beauty that can't wait to be serviced, and the owner doesn't want no droids to touch her, so my hands are full. Come back later, maybe next week."

But the man protested hotly, saying that he required very little of her time, and that she may find great advantage to his proposition. Peli groaned.

"If it's about replastering the outer walls," she complained, "I'm not paying another credit for them. They're fine as they are, they give character to the whole place."

"Believe me, my dear mistress Motto, you are way too modest! My interest lies not in plastering today, but rather in your person. Let me assure you, that I have the utmost respect for your business acumen, and would rather wish to earn you credits with my proposition. You can hardly doubt the purport of my discourse, however your natural humility may lead you to dissemble; my attentions have been too marked to be mistaken. Almost as soon as I came into ownership of this hangar, I singled you out as a rare mind. But before I am run away with by my feelings on this subject, perhaps it will be advisable for me to state my reasons for marrying."

The idea of Lortha Peel, with all his solemn composure, being run away with by his feelings, nearly made Peli burst out laughing, although she was more grossed out by the man's audacity than anything else.

"My reasons for marrying are, first, that I think it a right thing for every gentleman my age; secondly, that I am convinced it will add very greatly to my happiness; and thirdly — which perhaps I ought to have mentioned earlier, that it is a very good business opportunity. To have a partner to handle the baser aspects of my shop — an active, useful sort of person, not brought up high, and perhaps able to bring a small income of hers, too! My old days would be so much more comfortable, spent this way. And now nothing remains for me but to assure you in the most animated language of the violence of my affection. To fortune I am perfectly indifferent; the sale of your business and hangar license should bring quite enough to make a sufficient dowry. Invested in the four per cents, no ungenerous reproach shall ever pass my lips when we are married."

It was absolutely necessary to interrupt him now.

"Hold your banthas," cried Peli. "I haven't given you an answer yet, and I want to do it right now. Thanks for the compliment — really — but I can't see myself married to, well, you. Or give up the hangar."

"I am not now to learn," replied Lortha Peel, with a formal wave of the hand, "that it is usual with women to reject the addresses of the man whom they secretly mean to accept, when he first applies for their favour; and that sometimes the refusal is repeated a second or even a third time. I am therefore by no means discouraged by what you have just said, and shall hope to share my home with you ere long."

"Dank farrik," cried again Peli, "how thick is your kriffin' head! Women don't work like that! I'm telling you no, and that means no, now and until the suns turn nova! There's no way you could make me happy, and I'm about the last person in the Galaxy that could make you happy. I wish you very happy, and very rich, and also very far away from me."

Catching him by the elbow, she started to shepherd him to the door, and would have succeeded had not Lortha Peel thus addressed her:

"When I do myself the honour of speaking to you next on this subject, I shall hope to receive a more favourable answer than you have now given me; though I am far from accusing you of cruelty at present, because I know it to be the established custom of your sex to reject a man on the first application, and perhaps you have even now said as much to encourage my suit as would be consistent with the true delicacy of the female character."

"Really, master Peel," exclaimed Peli, "I can't make head or tails of what goes on inside that mind of yours. If what I just told you can ever appear to be encouragement, I don't know how to convince you. You don't even seem to be drunk!"

"You must give leave to flatter myself, my dear, that your refusal is merely words. My reasons for believing it are, briefly, these. It does not appear to me that my hand is unworthy your acceptance, or that the establishment I can offer would be any other than highly desirable. My situation in life, my well-known connections, and my being your landlord, are circumstances highly in my favour; and you should take it into farther consideration that, in spite of your manifold attractions, it is by no means certain that another offer of marriage may ever be made to you. Your age, past child-bearing years, and your fortune, so unhappily small, will in all likelihood undo the effects of your amiable temperament."

"My fortune wouldn't be so small if you weren't gouging me with rent," shouted Peli. "Don't think of me as a woman but as a rational creature who speaks the truth when I tell you to go suck a rancor!"

"You are uniformly charming," cried Lortha Peel with an air of awkward gallantry, "and I am persuaded that, when sanctioned by cool reason, my proposal will not fail of being acceptable."

Without further ado, Peli dragged him outside. She then closed the door and engaged the security system. Now she felt better; she gritted her teeth and tried to relax her shoulders. A sudden cough behind her made her jump. The Mandalorian was back; he must have snuck in while she was busy with Lortha Peel. He was leaning against the wall, impenetrable as ever, and asked:

"Want me to kill him?"

Peli gave it serious thought. "Nah," she said, "it'd be too expensive."

"That one would be on me," specified the Mandalorian. "He's a waste of space."

"Don't tempt me, Mando," she spat. "If my lease changes hands once more, rent will increase again, and I'm already down to my savings."

The Mandalorian shrugged.

"Your choice," he said. "Gimme a call if you change your mind."