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Tinian slipped off her bunk. “About time,” she exclaimed. “That must be one nasty computer.”

“Not nasty.” Flirt sounded prim. “Just standoffish. I like a challenge.”

“As long as you don’t get us killed while we wait for you, sweet thing.” Tinian smoothed her shipsuit. “Is it safe to explore the aft bays?”

“If you take me along. Bossk thinks you’re trying to take sheet metal off the bulkheads.”

“That’s creative.” Tinian settled her belt over her hips. Besides a blaster, it held several tools that she’d need for exploring. “This is a short jump. We’d better move fast. Open the hatch.”

It slid upward. “I’ve put a loop into his surveillance program,” Flirt explained. “He’ll see you try several bulkheads with your fingernails.”

Tinian kept her nails short, but that image would make sense to a clawed alien. “How are you progressing with the Hound?”

“Oh,” Flirt said evasively, “not as well as I’d like. He’s one of those true-blue incorruptible types. He was more vulnerable from the bridge. I had to concentrate on this cabin while I was there, or maybe I could’ve accomplished something.”

Chen had left Flirt with Tinian to protect her. Tinian had better make this trip aft worthwhile. “Thanks,” she said. “Just don’t let him see what I’m up to.”

“Not me!”

Tinian grasped the small cube and twisted slightly. Flirt popped off the bulkhead onto her palm. Tinian waited a few seconds in case an alarm rang.

“Don’t you trust me?” Flirt asked.

“I don’t trust anybody.” Tinian stuck Flirt into a belt pouch, then slipped into the corridor.

It was totally dark. Obviously the infrared-competent Bossk wanted to keep his passengers as blind as possible. Tinian pulled a tiny luma out of one belt pocket and held it overhead. Riveted bulkheads curved in both directions, with inverted pyramidal fixtures along the ceiling. They looked like heat lamps.

“Stop me if we approach anything dangerous,” she whispered.

She had barely reached the first side hatch when Flirt beeped. Tinian froze. Cautiously she pulled Flirt out of the pouch. She held the little droid up to her mouth. “What is it?” she whispered.

Flirt’s voice was almost imperceptible. “Motion sensor,” the droid answered. “One more step and you’ll walk into its range.”

“Can I go backward?”

“I think so.”

Tinian slid one foot backward, then the other.

“Stop,” said Flirt.

Tinian froze again. “Now what?”

“I think there’s a pressure trap in the deck just behind you. Don’t move either foot.”

Tinian held her position and swept Flirt in all directions. She sniffed the air cautiously. Her uncanny nose for explosives would be no help if the Hound’s security features were electronic.

“Okay,” murmured Flirt. “The sensor’s looking away.”

As Tinian scooted forward, she spotted a tiny swiveling eye high on one bulkhead, momentarily pointed in the other direction. She slid beneath as it made a back-swing up the corridor. Then she slunk aft, staying as close as possible to the port bulkhead. At last she reached two large hatches side by side. “These are secured,” she told Flirt. “How are you going to get me in?”

“There’s got to be a power point close by.”

Tinian held up her luma. The opposite bulkhead looked smooth, except for seams and rivets. “Where?”

“Take me across.”

She sprang over. The power point would have to be obvious, since Trandoshan fingers were clumsy.

Tinian spotted an access well hidden in shadow. She shoved Flirt into it. “Hurry,” she whispered. “I feel naked out here.”

Flirt didn’t answer. She beeped and tinkled like a miniature music box.

Behind Tinian, a hatch slid open.

She spun around, drawing her blaster out of habit. Nothing happened. Of course, nothing also would’ve happened if she’d tried to fire the drained weapon. Disgusted, she holstered it again.

“You’re in,” announced Flirt.

Tinian plucked Flirt off the bulkhead. “Next time, give me a little warning,” she grumbled.

She sneaked into the cargo bay, leaving the hatch open.

This wasn’t the bay where they’d stored their precious lockers. Stowed along one wall, locked down by straps and hold-mes but in