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Chenlambec growl-barked.

“Some of this is delicate equipment,” said Tinian. “Do you have lashing cables?”

“My draft droid will anchor your gear.”

Chenlambec hooted.

“We want to watch,” said Tinian.

“Watch if you want.”

It took an hour to secure the pair’s belongings. “Remember our bargain,” Tinian said as X10-D returned to his position along the rear bulkhead. “We don’t search your ship, you don’t touch our equipment.”

“And you stay out of everything.” Bossk pointed a long claw at her.

Chenlambec shook a hairy paw and roared.

She glowered up at the Wookiee. “Of course not, Ng’rhr. Not this time.”

Bossk crossed his forearms and smiled. Evidently this pair was not perfectly cohesive.

He could easily promise not to touch their gear. The Hound’s Tooth’s security scanners and its onboard computer were matchless.

Other than the X10-D unit, he required no crew. The ship’s intelligence also helped overcome a Trandoshan’s one real handicap: other races’ technology was not made for Trandoshan hands, and even the ship’s special fittings were sometimes clumsy.

He led them back to the Hound’s airlock. As it hissed shut and he sealed the pair on board, he murmured worshipful thanks to the Scorekeeper. He would use these passengers until he no longer needed them.

Then he would start skinning.

“We’ll cut cables as soon as you’re ready,” he informed them. “I have acceleration chairs in the larger cargo hold.”

“I don’t think I trust your acceleration chairs,” answered Tinian.

Bossk laughed deeply. “If I want your scalp and his pelt, I’ll take them … but not before Lomabu III. We all want Chewbacca and Solo. We’ll capture them together.”

• • •

Tinian peered up the narrow passageway. She couldn’t make out much detail. She knew Trandoshans saw in the infrared, but she didn’t have IR goggles. She’d never owned a pair.

“Where is this waypost?” Bossk clomped up behind her. “I need coordinates now.”

Chen hooted a series of numbers. Tinian repeated them. She added, “It’s programmed to destroy any non-Wookiee that approaches. From the time we drop out of hyperspace, the Hound’s Tooth must maintain scanner and sensor silence and total shielding, unless Chen is the only one outside your shielded area.”

“I understand.” Bossk flicked his tongue. “Shall I show you to the acceleration chairs now?”

“We’ll ride in our bunks.” She adjusted her duffel.

Bossk shrugged. “Suit yourself. Don’t blame me if you get thrown around.”

Tinian ducked back into the sleeping cabin. Roughly three meters by four, it was so dark that everything inside looked gray. Chen squeezed in after her, looking like a massive black shadow. Bossk’s scaly back retreated up the main passage.

She pulled out a luma and shone it around. Bunks, storage compartments … also a small washcabin, comfortably sized for her but cramped for a Trandoshan or a Wookiee.

Tinian swept her luma up and down a bulkhead, looking for a power point. “Here,” she said. It was at her shoulder level, an easy height for Bossk or Chenlambec to access. Chenlambec stowed his duffel inside a compartment.

“Goody,” Flirt chirped from her bandolier perch. “Did you get a look at that big droid? What a specimen!”

A smooth, low thrum began. Tinian looked up at Chen and added ruefully, “Nicely tuned engines.”

Chen answered shortly. She knew he loved his little saucer-shaped Wroshyr, even though it was growing seedy. He must hate leaving it in the Executor’s storage bay, paying Imperials by the day while they remained on board Bossk’s ship.

“If this goes well, we’ll be able to pay parking for fifty years. If not, we won’t care. Don’t worry, Ng’rhr.” She gathered a handful of fur in one hand and tugged hard. Wookiee fur felt softer than it looked.

Chen pulled Flirt off his bandolier. He held her in one massive hand while he ordered her to concentrate on securing their cabin.

“Right,” added Tinian. “Bossk wants to get to that waypost, but he’s not going to leave us up and around.”

“So plug me in,” Flirt exclaimed. She emitted a happy squeak as Chen pushed her connector into the power