The Crystal Star
here.
    Crseih was the kind of place he had known inside out, before he became General Han Solo. The kind of
    place where he could land the Falcon, walk into any establishment, and blend in or stand out, as he
    chose. He wondered if he still had that ability.
    You've gotten too soft, he said to himself.
    Too complacent, too secure. It's time to make some changes.
    And time to repair our finances.
    He knew Luke would disapprove of his plan.
    As Han grabbed his jacket and left, Luke knocked on the connecting door between their rooms.
    Instead of answering, Han left by the front door, closed it softly, and hurried away down the corridor.
    The letter of resources was a worthless piece of trash in Han's pocket. His immediate impulse was to rip
    it to shreds and throw it into the nearest crater.
    But that would be stupid as well as impossible. It was printed not on paper, but on a practically
    indestructible sheet of archival plastic. The edges would cut his skin before they would tear.
    As far as he could make out, no one in Crseih Station was the least bit interested in honoring a letter of
    resources drawn on the assets of the New Republic. One entrepreneur had negotiated to buy it. Han
    would have had to be a lot more desperate to consummate the deal; the offering price had been
    ridiculous.
    It would have been a fine bargain for the entrepreneur, for it was negotiable by the bearer. Negotiable
    almost anywhere but here.
    "Hell with it," he muttered.
    "Have you a spare--" "No!" he said without looking around. "No spare change!" his--minute, sir?" The
    ghostling placed herself in front of him, as delicate as a reed in a spring pond. "I want nothing from you
    but a moment of your time." "Sure," he said, "I have a minute." Ghostlings had always mesmerized him.
    They looked like humans, but were not. Their ethereal beauty tantalized humans and they in their turn
    were fascinated by human beings. They were as seductive as incubuses and succubuses, but as fragile as
    spiderwebs. For a human and a ghostling to enter into a physical relationship meant certain death for a
    ghostling.
    But there's no harm in looking, Han said to himself.
    The ghostling smiled. Her long fine green-gold hair spread around her head like a halo, and her wide
    black eyes searched his gaze. She touched his hand with her delicate fingertips. Her gilt-tan skin glowed
    and her golden fingernails dimpled his skin. Han shivered.
    "What do you want?" he asked, his tone harsh.
    The ghostling smiled. "Nothing. I want to give you something. The route to happiness--" "To your death!"
    Han exclaimed.
    "No," she said. "No, I'm not like that, not one of them. I used to--" She broke their gaze and looked at
    the street, at bits of trash that skittered past her bare feet.
    She stood on tiptoe. Her feet had never evolved to stand flat. Her feet and legs were more like those of a
    faun than a human being.
    "I used to plague humans," the ghostling said.
    "I was fascinated with your kind. I followed, I teased--y are so exciting!--and I thought, It might be
    worth it just to partake of a human, even as the last experience of my life." She smiled again, her
    expression beatific. "But I saw the error of my ways, of my thoughts, and I've dedicated myself to helping
    others see the truth! The truth that we are all the same, that we may commune in joy if we give ourselves
    to Waru!" Han laughed out loud. The ghostling sprang back, at first startled and frightened, then
    distressed.
    "Sir? I've said something to amuse you?" "Something to surprise me," Han said. He gestured around him,
    at the dome, the taverns and lights, the establishments at which one could get anything one wished, if one
    had the price. "I didn't expect to be proselytized--not here." The ghostling smiled again, and moved
    close. "But where better? Come with me, I'll show you. We're the same. Waru will give us joy."
    "Thanks," Han said. "But, no. Thanks." "Perhaps some other time," the ghostling said, her voice a

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