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“You might be able to accomplish it,” Klo Merit broke in, “by varying the oscillator signal so that the phase harmonics shift into a multipulse instead of a standard pulse configuration.”

Everyone turned and stared at the minder. Merit spread wide, four-fingered hands, the short fur on their backs shading to dark leathery palms. “What? I can’t have more than one skill?”

“It might work,” I-Five said thoughtfully. “The nonlinear feedback pattern established could create a new heuristic response.”

“Your synaptic grid processor would have to be in electron depletion mode,” the Equani pointed out.

“Of course. That goes without saying. Perhaps programming could be devised…”

Den cocked a suspicious eye at Merit. “Where did you pick up all this esoterica? And don’t lie to a reporter—we always know.”

Merit smiled. “I’ve had a number of jobs before I settled into minding. Including six months working as a boson wrangler for Industrial Automaton.”

Den shrugged. “Who knew?” He turned back to I-Five. “What say we give it a try? And just to make sure you’re not flying solo, I’ll be your copilot.” He gestured to the serving droid, who swerved her single wheel and headed in their direction. “Hey, Teedle, bring me a Pan-Galactic Gar—”

“Quiet!” Tolk had her head cocked in a listening pose—a pose they all knew all too well. In the sudden buzzing quiet a sound slowly became audible—a sound they also all knew too well.

“Lifters!” Tolk headed out of the cantina at a fast trot, followed by Barriss. Merit, moving his bulk with surprising ease and speed, left as well.

“Looks like we’ll have to temporarily forgo pushing back the boundaries of science,” I-Five said to Den as he started for the door. “Hold that thought.”

Others at nearby tables were also leaving, heading for their various stations. Only the three sentients in the corner—the Kubaz, the Umbaran, and the Falleen— stayed put.

Den shrugged, and settled back to wait for his drink.

They sat in the cantina, in the middle of the midday meal crowd, hidden, as Kaird liked to think, in plain sight.

Kaird, still in his Kubaz disguise—thank the Egg for a working air cooler, finally—leaned back and looked at his two potential employees. They returned his gaze, both faces noncommittal, as far as he could tell; he’d always had trouble reading those fleshy blobs and gashes that served as faces for most humanoids. There was no question as to whether they would take the job, however—if you were an outlaw and Black Sun made you an offer, it was not in your best interests to refuse.

Whether they could do the job was the question.

They ordered drinks, and then, before Kaird could say a word, the Falleen female said, “Okay. We’ll do it. What would our end be?”

“Just like that?” Kaird said, vaguely disappointed. He’d expected some pretense at haggling, at least.

“You’re Black Sun,” Thula said. “Do we look stupid?”

“How? How will you manage it?”

As Kaird watched the Falleen, her pale green skin began to change color, shading into a warmer, reddish orange tone. And almost immediately, he felt a powerful sense of desire stirring in him. An attraction to her so strong it was all he could do to resist it.

It was the same attraction he’d sensed earlier, but multiplied a hundredfold. He knew what was causing it. Pheromones. Airborne chemicals released solely to cause emotional reactions in others. A number of different species used them, he knew; some for communication, some to mark territory—and some to enhance sexual attraction.

Thula smiled. She knew exactly how her pheromones were affecting him. “That’s how,” she said. “The military hires civilians now and again, especially those with appropriate credentials. It just so happens that Squa and I have excellent documentation—the best that credits can buy—attesting to our expertise in a number of disciplines. Shipping dispatch and systems controls are among them. With a… patron who is attracted to me, I am sure we can get work somewhere in the shipping system.”

“What if the person in charge of hiring