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“Rokko’s going to set us up with a couple of his bullyboys to provide protection while we look for Bug-Eyes,” Laranth said as she buckled her blaster belt around her hips. The tone in which she said this indicated just how superfluous she thought such protection would be. “He’s also got his people working on locating it.”

“Good. The sooner we get moving on this, the better.” Jax didn’t mention his concerns about recruiting the Hutt’s help, because they were undoubtedly being monitored. Also, it wasn’t necessary; Laranth knew as well as he did that Rokko would try to find some way to double-cross them on this. It was a foregone conclusion that the Emperor’s agents would pay more for the droid and a couple of rogue Jedi than the droid alone. The trick lay in finding the right moment to turn the double cross into a triple cross.

“Let’s finish up here and get back on the streets,” he said.

“Not yet,” Laranth replied. “Rokko wants to see us before we leave. And right now he’s busy haggling over a new droid.”

Jax raised an eyebrow. “A new droid?”

“Don’t worry. From what I’ve heard, it’s not our droid. It’s a protocol unit—supposed to be a whiz at sabacc, or something.”

Jax gestured impatiently. “Whatever. We don’t have time for this.”

“Apparently his priorities are different,” Laranth said. “I wouldn’t rush him, Jax. Right now he’s the best—possibly the only—chance we have of finding the Four-Tee-Oh.”

The cards looked ridiculously oversized in the Hutt’s stubby hands. He studied them for a moment, then announced, “Bet two.” He put two credit chips into the hand pot.

I-Five seemed completely unperturbed, even to Den, who knew how to read the droid’s expressions. “Raise two.” Two more credits went in.

Den resisted the urge to dance about on his toes. Much more was riding on this game than just their reputations.

“Raise five.” The Hutt was a stolid player, master of the sabacc mask—the unreadable face that gave no hint or indication of what kind of array the player was holding. No one, however, could be more expressionless than a droid, and no player Den had ever met was more adept at reading the subtlest body language, no matter the species, than I-Five. Even the Lorrdians, for all their vaunted talents, weren’t as good.

Rokko rolled the six-sided die for the shift. It was a two; no shift.

“Call,” the droid said calmly.

Rokko blinked, then put his cards down. I-Five did the same. Den nearly gasped, and he could hear excited and astonished conversation ripple through the employees, many of whom had stopped to watch the game. The hushed comments were justified: the droid had a perfect hand, the cards totaling twenty-three. It was an automatic win, and it had taken the droid less than ten minutes.

For just a moment, the silence in the chamber was the loudest thing Den had ever heard. Then Rokko laughed. His boneless bulk quaked as he rumbled out his humor, his dewflaps, each the size of a summoning gong, shaking with mirth.

“I like this droid! I can make much money with this droid! No one will believe a droid can play sabacc like that. And even after they do believe it, they’ll keep coming back to watch it play again.” He turned ponderously toward Den. “I will give you five hundred credits for it,” he said in a magnanimous tone.

Den could see I-Five drawing himself up indignantly, and shot him a look. The droid, remembering that he was playing the part of a passive protocol unit, subsided, although Den could tell he was still simmering. Five hundred credits would be a bargain for a droid in much worse condition. I-Five might be an outmoded model, but his parts were all in good working order.

But this was by no means a take-it-or-leave-it deal. Den knew that Hutts loved to haggle nearly as much as Toydarians. “This is a unique unit. Fifteen hundred would not be too much to ask … however, in acknowledgment of your lofty position as a businessman in the Yaam Sector, I’ll make it twelve hundred.”

The Hutt’s enormous watery eyes narrowed. “Pfah! It’s just a protocol droid with some kind of enhancement in odds calculating.