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One of the attackers was so intent on hitting Evazan, he was not aware of something creeping up—not until a liquid sound made him whip about just as Rover lunged.

The intruder had no chance for defense as the Meduza’s stalks all shot forward, touching their pod ends to the other’s face and chest. Each pod flared brightly, and the victim’s form stiffened, shuddering as if an electric shock coursed through it, then collapsed.

Evazan’s twisted mouth lifted in a grotesque smile. “Good boy, Rover,” he muttered. But the smile vanished as he looked toward the room’s door, adding in an irked tone, “But where in hell are you, Ponda?”

He moved out from his cover, crawling about the dark room, angling for a shot at the last foe. As Evazan lifted up to take aim at the last place he had seen the other, that final invader drew a bead on the doctor’s shadowy form.

The door of the room burst inward and a new figure plunged through. A quick, well-aimed blaster bolt skewered Evazan’s attacker, barely saving the doctor from a fatal shot.

The last body thudded to the floor. Evazan climbed to his feet, brushing himself off. “About time, Ponda,” he told the new arrival, stepping to the table to switch the lights back on.

The returning illumination revealed another Aqualish male clutching a freshly fired blaster. But Ponda Baba’s left hand was the hairy, talon-fingered hand of one of the lesser Aqualish race. The right hand and the forearm to which it was fixed were artificial, and of a rather crude mechanical type, their skeletal metal frame uncovered by bioflesh.

“You’re lucky,” Ponda replied in a growl, shoving his blaster back into a holster. “I almost left you to take them all yourself.”

With that he turned and clomped out of the room.

The Andoan senator was just rising from beneath the dining table. Evazan holstered his own weapon and looked to his guest apologetically.

“Sorry. In the old days, Ponda Baba would have been in here like a shot. A real team we were then.”

“He … ah … works for you?” the senator said, still recovering from shock.

“We were partners,” the doctor tersely explained.

The senator seemed dismayed by that. “You know, he is of the lowest caste here on Ando. Its people have dubious morals and most violent habits. They are treated with so much contempt that few of them stay on our planet. They go off and often become galactic criminals.”

“Well, Ponda couldn’t have been a better pal to me,” Evazan said, pouring out stiff drinks for them both. “That is, until one day on Tatooine. Had a run-in at the Mos Eisley Cantina there. An old man with a Jedi lightsaber took off Ponda’s right arm for helping me. After that we had a kind of falling-out.”

“He’s here now,” the senator pointed out. “And it does seem he just saved your life.”

“Well, I still owe him an arm,” the doctor explained. “He’s had trouble raising enough credits for a good bionic replacement. So we’ve set up an uneasy alliance until I can help him out. I supply an arm, he works as my bodyguard … supposedly.” He took a deep draft of his ale.

“What about them?” asked the senator, looking toward the downed attackers.

“Them?” said Evazan, shrugging carelessly. “Just more bounty hunters. Must have climbed all the way up here.”

He set down his glass and walked toward one of the bodies. It was clad in a gray jumpsuit and helmet, like the other two, with an equipment belt around the waist. He rolled it over with a foot, revealing the staring, slack-jawed face of a human male, swarthy of complexion, lean and sharp of feature.

Evazan eyed a small device attached at the man’s waist.

“They used individual field disrupters to get through the screens,” he said thoughtfully. “Looks like a new type. I’ll have to boost shield power.” He looked around to the Aqualish, adding testily, “Senator, I shouldn’t have to worry about this kind of thing at all. You’re supposed to be protecting me, making sure no one can even get near here with equipment like that.”

“We can’t screen and search everyone who comes to the planet,” the senator said defensively.