'Defying a direct order from the High Council, you'll be.' Qui-Gon didn't argue the point. 'My duty is to the Force, Master.' Yaddle studied him for a long moment. 'To what end, Qui — Gon? To what end?' The holobanner glowing through the t'bac smoke in the cantina read: the tipsy mynock welcomes the karfeddion skull CRACKERS. A smashball team, the Skull Crackers were known throughout the Senex for their blatant disregard for the rules of play and for the lives of their opponents. A boisterous dozen of the local heroes were gathered in a corner of the Tipsy Mynock, raising flagons of fermented drink to one another and whomever happened by, growing more inebriated by the minute, and fairly itching to cause trouble of a major sort.
A few booths away, Cohl and Boiny sat with a hulking human who might have been a member of the Skull Crackers- had he been a few centimeters shorter and a lot less dangerous looking.
A pleasant-looking humanoid female bred on one of the Karfeddion slave farms placed a tall shot of bright- yellow liquid in front of Cohl's guest, who downed the notoriously strong drink in one swallow.
'Thanks, Captain,' the human said genuinely, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 'It's not often I get a taste of the real article.' Cohl appraised Lope, as the man called himself, from across the table that separated them. The fact that Lope could handle himself in a brawl was beyond dispute.
But the Eriadu operation would not turn on brute strength, but on a combination of skill and intelligence.
Of course, situations could arise in the most carefully designed scenarios when it came down to muscle. But Cohl still wasn't convinced that Lope was suited to handle even that eventuality.
'What's your specialty?' he asked after a moment.
Lope planted his elbows on the table.
'Vibroblade, stun baton, nerve pick. But I can also handle a blaster- BlasTechs, Merr-Sonns, Czerkas…' 'But you prefer in-close work.' Lope shrugged. 'When it comes right down to it, yeah, I guess I do. Why, what's the job, Captain?' Cohl shook his head. 'I can't tell you that unless I decide to bring you aboard.' Lope nodded. 'I understand. But I'd sure like to hire on with you, Captain. They don't come any better than you.' Cohl ignored the flattery. 'Where have you worked?' 'Up and down the Corellian Trade Spine, mostly. I did a stint in the Stark Conflict.
I'd still be in the Core, if I didn't have a price on my head for a bit of wet work I did on Sacorria.' 'Are you wanted anywhere else?' 'Only there, Captain.' Cohl was mildly encouraged. Lope was typical of the outlaws that fled to the outlying systems, but he wasn't a professional.
'You have any problem working with aliens, Lope?' Lope glanced briefly at Boiny. 'Not Rodians. Why, you've got others on your crew?' 'A Gotal.' Lope stroked his stubbled jaw. 'Gotal, huh?
I can work with those.' A sudden commotion erupted at the entrance to the cantina, and four large and mean-looking humans shouldered their way to the bar. Cohl thought they might be members of the Skull Crackers or some rival team, until the largest among them climbed up onto the bar and fired a blaster bolt into the ceiling.
'Lope, I know you're in here somewhere,' he shouted while plaster dust drifted down around him and he scanned the tables and booths. 'Where are you, you double-dealing slime?' Cohl glanced from the man at the bar to Lope.
'Friend of yours?' 'Not for long,' Lope said, getting to his feet and waving his arm. 'Right here, Pezzle.' Pezzle squinted in Lope's direction, then jumped down from the bar and began to shove and barrel his way through the crowd, his cohorts following in his wake.
'You're a no-good cheat,' he said as soon as he reached the booth. 'You figured you could walk out without paying us, is that it?' Cohl watched Lope take in everything at a glance: Pezzle's raised weapon, the position of the other three men, how far their hands were from their blasters.
'You weren't worth paying,' Lope said flatly.
'You only took care of one of them, and you left me to clean up after you.' Cohl and Boiny started to slide out of the booth, but Lope put his hand on Cohl's shoulder. 'Don't leave, Captain. This won't take a minute.
Maybe you could consider it an audition.' 'All right,' Cohl told him, settling back down.
Customers in the adjacent booths weren't as confident as Cohl. Climbing over seats and whatever else stood in their way, they began to scramble out of the line of fire.
Sweating profusely, Pezzle gulped and found his voice. 'You'll pay now,'
he said, flinging spittle from his thick lips.
Cohl never saw Lope's blaster leave its holster.
He saw the blur of Lope's right hand, he heard several weapons discharge, and the next thing he knew, Pezzle and his trio were piled in a heap on the floor.
His smoking blaster still in hand, Lope regarded Cohl expectantly.
'You'll do,' Cohl said, nodding his head.
Karfeddion Spaceport was a sprawl of docking bays, repair shops, and cantinas even seedier than the Tipsy Mynock. Nodding to the several members of Docking Bay 331 's maintenance crew, Cohl, Boiny, and Lope closed on the battered freighter the Nebula Front had provided.
'What happened to the Hawk-Bat, Captain?' Lope asked as he gazed uncertainly at the ship.
'Too well known for where we're headed,' Cohl said.
Cohl introduced Lope to the pair of humans who were standing at the foot of the freighter's boarding ramp.
'Captain,' one of them said in a scratchy voice, 'some dame is waiting for you in the forward compartment.' 'Who? 'Cohl said.
'She wouldn't say.' Cohl and Boiny traded looks. 'Maybe it's that bounty hunter you were searching for,' the Rodian suggested.
