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Chen had inherited Flirt from a slain hunting companion. The other Wookiee—Chen had never named him to Tinian—had invented the illegal droid and programmed her to seduce an intelligent computer. Flirt could open data streams, shut down security, and substitute her owners’ commands for the operator’s … all without needing to plug into an information outlet. Any power point would do. Inside her titanium shell, the first centimeter was packed with sensor and antenna windings.

But she wasn’t dependable. Some jobs that sounded easy to Tinian took Flirt hours to accomplish. That was why they’d prepared three contingency plans.…

“She sounds happy.” Tinian climbed onto the top bunk and strapped in, using heavy webbing that looked black in the dim light If her eyes hadn’t adjusted by now, they probably wouldn’t. This light was too faint for humans. “I hope she hurries.”

Chen stood beside the two narrow bunks and braced himself against the deck and the upper bulkhead, where he would block Tinian’s fall if she rolled. He wondered aloud if Bossk were operating the Hound’s Tooth alone.

“If he is, the onboard computer’s got to be more powerful than any we’ve ever seen.” Tinian rolled onto her side and eyed Flirt.

Chen muttered.

“And our scaly friend has probably got connections in shipbuilding circles.” He was probably listening, too. She added, “It’s a good-looking ship.”

Chen grinned, showing teeth. He grunted several insults.

Tinian grinned back. “He’s probably got a translation program activated.”

Chen told Bossk what he could do with his translation program. Flirt sat glued like a mynock to her bulkhead, introducing herself to the most powerful onboard computer she had ever encountered. Tinian guessed that the Hound was too intelligent a ship to be easily dazzled.

But Flirt had better succeed before they reached the waypost. All of their plans required being conscious after that jump.

The ship lurched. Tinian’s feet hit the bulkhead. She’d learned to growl-bark a few words in Shyriiwook, which translated literally as “Tongue of Tree People.” It was a wonderful language for expressing disgust. She howled, then added in Basic, “He doesn’t mess around.”

Chen snorted.

Tinian braced one arm against the bunk’s inner bulkhead and the other against Chen’s broad back. He had taken the place of the father she had only known in her imagination, strong and fearless. She’d first saved Chen’s life back at Silver Station, where vengeful—but stupid—Ranats tried to blow out a bulkhead and send everyone aboard on the Final Jump. Tinian had tracked down the Ranats by the smell of their JL-12-F, an explosive manufactured by one of I’att Armaments’ competitors.

She’d saved him again at Kline Colony, where a Rebel “acquisition” had resisted Chen’s unique style of rescue. They’d saved each other in Ookbat’s dank warrens, on a mission that failed.

Acceleration became hard and steady. The aft bulkhead started to look and feel almost like a deck. Tinian rolled toward the bulkhead. It’d been days since she’d slept well. Maybe a nap would—

Something pricked her skin through the thin mattress.

Bossk flicked his tongue: Success! They were both unconscious. “Hound,” he called, “disarm all cabin locks.”

“Confirmed,” answered the Hound’s baritone.

He stalked up the corridor and touched out a code on his own cabin’s hatch, disarming several more security circuits. When he’d modified the Hound for Wookiee hunting, he’d installed features to protect him in case of onboard escapes by enraged Wookiees, including the ability to fly the Hound from inside his starboard cabin.

Still, he preferred the broad sweep of space visible on the bridge monitors. They included near and far infrared.

Next he checked on his passengers. Inside the port cabin, the Wookiee lay on the deck, breathing shallowly. The human did not react when he shook her shoulder.

Pharmaceuticals made excellent equalizers.

He drained the charges from their blasters and then rummaged through their cargo compartments.