She gave another tinkling laugh that made his heart jump. “We don’t want our visitors eaten. There are birds, though, high in the canopy, and a few Izizian monkeys, but nothing that can kill you where you stand, although if it’s wildlife you’re after I hear there is a hragscythe in the city zoo.”

“Perhaps we can go see it after our ski trip.”

Samera’s lips drew back. “Maybe we can.” She looked up at the array of repulsor platforms. “I still can’t believe we pulled it off. Forty-two islands, all ready to open on time. They said it couldn’t be done.”

“They hadn’t met you.” He leaned in close. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Oh, I certainly will,” she replied. “It’s the Valon way.”

Their eyes locked for a moment and all of a sudden there wasn’t anyone else on the street. Another vision flashed across Elzar’s mind, one infinitely preferable to the darkness he’d experienced on Starlight. He saw himself, years from now, the dark hair he’d been growing out now shot with gray, the marshal of a successful outpost, dining with a respected local official with emerald eyes and a graceful neck.

“Look out.” A voice broke the spell. Samera gasped as Elzar grabbed her arm, pulling her back from the hoverpod that had almost mowed them down, its trailer stacked high with containers.

“Thank you,” Samera said, putting a hand over her beating heart. “I didn’t even see that coming.”

“Neither did I,” he admitted, feeling both a sense of relief that she was okay and a pang of guilt. What had he been thinking? This was why he never stayed on one planet for too long. The temptation to linger was too great. That and other things. Soon Jedi would be arriving from all over the galaxy—not to mention Starlight. What would Avar say if she even got an inkling of what he’d just been thinking? Would she be surprised? Probably not, but she’d be disappointed. He needed to concentrate on the job at hand. He was here because this was where the Force wanted him to be. Everything else was a distraction.