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Before Muftak could stop her, Kabe swung herself over and down into the darkness. The Talz heard her chittering quietly as she climbed, and knew she was listening for echoes. “Nothing unusual so far,” she reported. “I’m almost dow—” Hearing her break off, Muftak flung himself down, head through the hole, straining his night-eyes. Below him, Kabe dangled, spinning slowly, a paw’s length from the floor.

“Kabe, what’s happening? Why’d you stop?” Muftak demanded.

“Shhh.” As he watched, Kabe changed position, turning upside down, then lowering her head until her ear was just above the carpet. She chittered again. “Oh, bantha dung …” he heard her mutter.

“What is it?”

“A noise, below the floor … something down there. The air has to go around it, and it hums … metal, probably.” Suddenly she let out a terrified little squeak. “Don’t come down yet! It’s some kind of trap! There’s a spring actuator …”

Muftak watched as she clicked, trying to gauge the structures below the floor. “Standard joists over here …” she muttered, a few seconds later. With a couple of vigorous wiggles, she swung back and forth, then dropped her pry bar as a test.

“No change!” she cried, then leaped off herself. “Just land right here …”

When Muftak was down, they left the dome room, and crept down the dark stairway. At the bottom, Kabe heard the distinctive electronic hum of an alarm.

Quickly, the little Chadra-Fan located and deactivated it.

To their right, an archway led into a large room, a lounge of some sort, outfitted with luxurious, plush furniture. One wall held an open curio cabinet filled with small golden statues and bejeweled antique weapons. Muftak gasped softly … the plunder of a hundred worlds—theirs for the taking!

Cautiously, they entered. Working with feverish haste, they began stuffing valuables into the sacks they’d brought.

“We’ll be out of here before you know it,” Kabe whispered, sliding a particularly ornate pipestand into her bag. “Now aren’t you sorry you didn’t—”

Two lights winked on in the lounge’s anteroom. A droid, turning itself on. Kabe froze in terror. Muftak drew his blaster.

“Oh, forgive me for interrupting you,” said the droid in a melodious tone. “I’ve been waiting for … by the way”—its tone changed—“what are you doing here at this time of night? I know that Master Jabba’s friends are a little … unusual, but …”

Muftak took a step toward the machine. “We belong here. Your illustrious master asked us to fetch some of his possessions to transport to his palace.”

The droid took a few mincing steps into the room. “That explains it then. Bzavazh-ne pentirs o ple-urith feez?”

Muftak did a double take. His language. “Where did you learn that?”

The droid tilted its head, and its illuminated eyes seemed full of satisfaction. “Oh, friend Talz, I am conversant in the languages and customs of your planet, Alzoc Three, and four thousand nine hundred and eighty-eight other worlds. I am Master Jabba’s protocol droid, Kay-eight Ellarr. Master Jabba couldn’t do without me. Admittedly, I’ve never had a chance to use my Talz module before. I’ll just check with Master Fortuna to see if you are telling the truth.”

Kabe, under control now, was moving slowly toward the droid, trying to look pleasant. She uncoiled her climbing rope. “We’re telling the truth, droid. You don’t have to check.”

“Oh, but I do, friend Chadra-Fan, k’sweksni-nyiptsik. You have no idea what trouble I’d get into if I didn’t—” Suddenly Kabe sprang and wrapped the rope around its limbs. “The restraining bolt, Muftak!”

“My friends, please don’t—” K8LR was moaning like a Jawa street beggar. “Oh! Master Jabba will punish you—” It began to fight, but the Talz loped forward, and with a single motion collared it and grabbed the bolt affixed to its chest. K8LR was struggling, trying to free itself of the ropes around its body, but Muftak was desperate. With a quick wrench, he ripped the bolt free.

When the bolt came off, the droid stopped struggling.

“Oh, thank you,” it said. “You have