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“Oh, no,” Jos said softly.

“I hear it too,” Den said. In another moment, the others picked it up as well—the faint drone of faraway medlifters.

“Kark,” Jos said. He finished his drink in one swallow. The others hurried to finish theirs as well.

Just then a comm-tech came running into the cantina, obviously very agitated. He slammed into and nearly knocked over one of the crew members of the troupe, a big and burly Trandoshan. The reptiloid’s drink sloshed all over him. He ripped out a curse in Dosh that Jos was glad he couldn’t understand, grabbed the comm-tech and lifted him off the floor with one hand.

Several people charged over to stop the impending slaughter, but before anything could happen—

“There’s been an explosion on MedStar!” the comm-tech shouted. “Half the flight decks and most of a storage level just got blown to vac!”

Fear stabbed Jos.

Tolk—!

14

There were a few matters that needed to be taken care of before Kaird could begin planning his triumphant return to his homeworld. Foremost among these was making sure that the rogues Thula and Squa Tront were established securely in the linkage that ran from the bota fields ultimately to the cargo holds of the Black Sun freighters. This meant, among other things, that they insinuate themselves into the good graces of Nars Dojah the quartermaster, an old and irascible Twi’lek. Fortunately, Twi’leks were one of the many species that could be easily affected by Falleen pheromones. Unfortunately, Dojah was aware of this, and as a result was enormously suspicious of Thula. During the interview he had gone so far as to insist on wearing a filter-equipped rebreather. All of this Thula related later to Kaird—or, as far as anyone passing by their cantina table could see, to Hunandin the Kubaz—with great amusement.

“You seem to find this funny,” Kaird said in annoyance. “If Dojah does not hire you because of this prejudice, I assure you, my employers will not be smiling, and neither will I.”

“Oh, you’ll be smiling in a minute,” the Falleen assured him. “I haven’t finished my story.”

Kaird leaned back. “Amuse me, then.”

“Dojah’s researches into Falleen body chemistry are incomplete. I also shed protein analogs, which work through skin contact rather than the olfactory organs.”

Kaird smiled, and the mask’s sensors once again translated it into the Kubaz equivalent, rolling the pendulous snout up like a proboscis. “So—even though he could not smell your scent, you nonetheless had an effect.”

“Just so.” The Falleen quaffed the rest of her Dark Side Daiquiri. She leaned back, muscles shifting lithely under her finely scaled skin. Kaird could feel his own libido stirring slightly. Amazing—he was probably about as genetically compatible with the reptiloid as he was with bota DNA, but even so…

He saw her watching him and smiling slightly. Obviously, she didn’t need her partner’s mind-reading abilities to know what he was thinking. Kaird cleared his throat and turned to the Umbaran. “And you?”

“Not to worry,” Tront said in his whispery voice. “I am firmly ensconced as a shipping data processor. The diversion of small amounts of bota looks to be no problem.”

“Glad to hear it. Unfortunately, there will be a problem meeting the quota Black Sun requires for this week. The explosion on the MedStar blew out one of the storage compartments that had been consigned for our purpose, and we lost a sizable shipment of carbon-frozen contraband. In addition, as you are both no doubt aware, the extreme temperature fluctuation has decimated much of the local crop base. We will need another two hundred kilograms of processed material in the next three days. Fortunately, the harvests from Rimsoos Six, Nine, and Fourteen are usually routed through here for shipment.”

Tront’s eyes widened slightly. “This is a considerable amount to be shifted without notice, particularly so early in the game.” He gestured at the window and the steadily falling snow. “This bizarre dome malfunction makes things even more difficult.”

“Agreed,” Kaird said. “Nevertheless, such is our state of affairs.