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girl. I’m sure they’ll never let me near the engine room.” He returned to the ship himself, then, muttering PLY-3500 specs in a mechanical undertone.“Twin ion/hyperdrive nacelles … programmable transponders … state-of-the-art gyrostabilizers … be still, my recirculation pump …”
    Dash sighed. He’d still rather be piloting the
Outrider
than be a paid passenger on some personal luxury yacht, no matter what the specs. And he somehow suspected that, as bodyguards for the rich and famous, he and Eaden would be more passengers than crew. They would, after all, have to go where the big holostar went, eat where she ate, be quartered close to her. He had no experience in the field to base that on, but he intended to be as professional about this as possible. It might be a nothing job, but he was going to take it seriously.
    He’d arranged with his new boss (damn, but it was hard to even
think
that word—he doubted he could say it aloud) to transfer an advance payment to his account, had dispersed some to Eaden, and used most of the remaining credits to pay several weeks of rent on the docking bay with just a little left for Kerlew as a good-faith gesture. When all was arranged, Dash, Eaden, and Leebo reported to the spaceport, where a shuttle waited to take them up to the orbiting yacht. Dash thought it a little odd that the
Nova’s Heart
didn’t dock dirtside, but he supposed that had something to do with Javul Charn’s celebrity status. Maybe she was afraid of calling too much attention to herself—or giving her “overzealous fan” a heads-up that she was on Tatooine. That made sense. Dash Rendar understood well the need to keep a low profile. Over the years he had, perforce, become a master of disguise, subterfuge, and just plain hiding. He had every confidence that between Eaden’s abilities and his own innate wariness, they’d be as good a set of bodyguards as the lovely fem could wish for.
    The PLY-3500 was everything the SoroSuub press campaign said and more. As they were greeted by the ship’s steward—an E-3PO protocol droid—and shownto their quarters just forward of the observation deck, Dash noticed quite a few “enhancements” that weren’t in the manufacturer’s literature. He made a mental note to get the ship’s schematics and acquaint himself with the vessel, paying close attention to any nook or cranny in which a stowaway might hide. When he’d brought up the idea that someone might sneak aboard her ship unobserved, the celebrity had denied that such a thing was possible—but she had blanched at the suggestion, her skin becoming, if possible, paler than it already was. He’d scared her, but the fact that she hadn’t considered the possibility that Fanboy might be able to get
real
close only showed that she deserved to be scared.
    Dash and Eaden were quartered in a suite of rooms at the head of the aft quarterdeck immediately abaft a set of emergency doors. Kendara Farlion’s suite was next door to theirs, while Javul Charn’s chambers took up the opposite side of the aft quarterdeck, her door cattycorner to Dash and Eaden’s.
    “Rarefied water,” said Eaden philosophically as he surveyed the surface of Tatooine from the expanse of transparisteel that ran the entire outer wall of their quarters. Softly lit by clever indirect lighting, the stunning main chamber featured adjustable coloration and lighting schemes, original work from a dozen well-known artists, and sleek, designer furniture, which included state-of-the-art antigrav form couches upholstered in the finest Corellian leather.
    “Yeah, there’re definite perks to the position of royal bodyguard—having to room near the royal mark being one of them.”
    “You’d be wise not to let her hear you call her that,” observed Eaden.
    “Not to worry, I’ll be a good boy.”
    The Nautolan smiled—a peculiar curling of his widemouth. “Highly unlikely. Perhaps you should practice saying,
Yes, boss.
”
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