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contents, picking and choosing which gems were worth taking and which would be too easy for the governor’s soon-to-be-outraged chief accountant to track down. But with Tavia’s startled exclamation ringing through her mind, Bink decided she would just grab what she could inside of a twenty-count and then call it a night. Snapping open the gem boxes at random, mindful that such boxes were usually tagged and couldn’t be taken as is, she started shoveling their contents into her hip pouch. One of the more interesting-looking boxes had a lock of its own, which the fingersnips attached to the undersides of her fingernails made quick work of.
    Her twenty-count ran to zero. Closing the safe, she hurried back to the window and made her exit.
    The plan had been for her to return to the roof and exit as she’d arrived, via the building’s stairway. But the rooftop anchors were expendable, her syntherope dispenser had more than enough line to reach the street, and suddenly she wasn’t feeling like hanging around this neighborhood any longer than she had to. Closing the window behind her, she released the lock on the dispenser and rappelled her way down the side of the building.
    Halfway to the ground, she drew her blaster. Just in case.
    Tavia, as expected, had spotted the unplanned descent and was waiting when Bink came to a smooth halt on the walkway. “What happened?” she asked anxiously. “I thought you were going back to the roof.”
    “You and your startled yelp happened,” Bink said. “I thought I’d better expedite matters.”
    “I said crankapacky.”
    “I heard you say crankapacky,” Bink agreed, looking around. A figure had appeared from the doorway where Tavia had been handling her groundliner sentry duty and was striding toward them. He was human and male, and even with the streetlight throwing his face into shadow he seemed familiar. He continued his approach, his swinging hand brushing past a holstered blaster with each step. Bink tightened her grip on her own weapon …
    And then, as the man passed through the light of a home security lamp, she got a clear look at his face. She exhaled in a puff, feeling the tension drain into limp relief. No wonder Tavia had been startled. And no wonder she’d said crankapacky . “Hey, Solo,” she greeted the newcomer. “What are you doing on Kailor?”
    “Looking for you, Bink,” Solo said calmly. “Nice to see you’re keeping busy.”
    “We are,” Bink said. “Only I’m Tavia, not Bink. We decided I finally needed to learn the dirty part of the job.”
    For a long second he looked like he was going to buy it. His eyes flicked between the women’s faces, searching for a clue as to which face belonged to which twin.
    He wouldn’t find one, of course. Not even if they’d been standing in a brightly lit room instead of a nighttime city street. Bink and Tavia had pulled this same trick countless times over the years, and their past was strewn with the red faces of those who’d fallen for it.
    But Solo was smarter than most. And if he couldn’t find any visible proof that Bink was lying, he knew her well enough to make an educated guess. “Good idea,” he said, looking her straight in the eye. “I need you and Tavia for a job on Wukkar. Interested?”
    “Could be,” Bink said. “Decent payoff?”
    “Very decent,” Solo confirmed. “Come on back to the Falcon and we’ll talk about it.”
    “Let’s meet at our ship instead,” Bink suggested. “Docking bay twenty-two. Go on in and make yourselves comfortable. We’ll be there soon—got a stop to make first.”
    “Make it quick,” Solo warned. “We’re on a tight schedule.”
    He turned and strode off into the night. As he approached the end of the block, another figure, this one taller and shaggier, stepped into view. Chewbacca, playing his usual backup.
    Smuggling partnerships didn’t always last, Bink knew, and when they ended they usually ended violently. It was nice to see that this