'Cohl must have piloted the customs agents' ship to the surface,' Qui-Gon surmised.
Tiin nodded as he came to a halt in front of Qui-Gon. 'The customs ship has been located at the spaceport.' 'We should see for ourselves,' Obi-Wan said in a rush. Then he stopped himself and regarded Tiin.
'What prompted anyone to conduct a search of the freighter?' Tiin appeared to have anticipated the question, along with Qui-Gon's look of wary concern.
'The authorities received an anonymous lead.' c ohl's eyelids fluttered, then snapped open.
Boiny's blood — smeared face swam unfocused in his gaze. He felt nauseated and wired. He knew that he should be in great pain, but he was only vaguely aware of his body. Boiny had obviously dosed him with pain blockers.
Cohl tasted blood in his mouth, and something else-the syrupy astringency of bacta.
Boiny's features began to sharpen and come into focus.
A blaster bolt had burned a deep furrow in the left side of the Rodian's greenish skull. The wound glistened with freshly applied bacta, but Cohl doubted that the miracle substance would prevail.
His memory made a hurried return. He gave a start and tried to sit up.
'Wait, Captain,' Boiny said. His voice was weak and raspy. 'Rest for a moment.' Cohl paid him no mind. He pushed himself upright, and immediately fell face first to the hard floor. He heard the tip of his nose crack and felt a trickle of blood course down over his mustache and drip onto his lower lip.
He began to drag himself across the floor, to where Rella's body lay unmoving-unmoving and cold when he stretched out his hand and grazed her face with his fingertips.
Boiny was suddenly beside him again.
'She's dead, Captain,' he said, anguished.
'By the time I came to, there was nothing I could do.' Cohl crawled the final meter to Rella. He threw his right arm over her shoulders, tugging her to him and weeping quietly for a long moment.
'You had to come back,' he said quietly, between sobs.
Then he rolled over and glared at Boiny.
'You should have let me die.' Boiny had clearly anticipated his rage.
'If you were close to dying, I might have been able to do that.' He tugged Cohl's ragged shirt aside to expose the thick armorply garment beneath.
'The vest absorbed most of the charge, but you have internal injuries.' He glanced at Cohl's tattered left thigh, then leaned over to examine his forehead.
'I did the best I could with your other wounds.' Cohl raised his hand to his head. The bolt from Rella's blaster had burned away all the hair on the right side of his head and left a wound every bit as deep and ragged as the one that trenched Boiny's skull.
'Where'd you find-was 'An emergency medkit in a cabinet by the door.
The bacta patches are a couple of months expired, but they probably have enough potency to sustain us for a while.' Cohl passed the back of his hand under his nose, then took a stuttering breath. 'Your head…' 'Fractured, as well as burned. But I gave myself a healthy measure of the pain blockers I fed you. I came close to overdosing myself. But at least I'm seeing only one of you now.' Cohl managed to sit up. Glancing around the room, he spied the man he had killed lying faceup on the floor, exactly where the blaster had dropped him. Otherwise, the room was empty. He looked back at Boiny.
'Why didn't they finish us?' 'This wasn't supposed to happen. I figure that Havac panicked.' Cohl thought about it for a moment. 'No. The Jedi are on to us. He wants us to be found.' He paused briefly, then added, 'But he isn't fool enough to believe I'd keep quiet about this mission, out of some misguided sense of honor.' 'I'll wager that he's counting on the fact that you won't betray Lope and the others.' Cohl nodded slowly. 'Havac read me right.
But he's going to regret not killing me when he had the chance.' With visible effort, he raised himself up on his uninjured right knee. 'Are any of them still in the warehouse?' 'Only the customs agents secured in the corridor. The cargo bay is deserted.' Cohl extended his arm to the Rodian. 'Help me up.' He winced as Boiny tugged him to his feet.
Gingerly, he planted his left foot on the floor and nearly collapsed.
'I'm going to need a crutch.' 'I'll fix you up with something,' Boiny said.
Cohl balanced on his good leg. He thought his heart might burst if he looked at Rella again, but he forced his gaze downward nevertheless.
'Some of us were born to be betrayed,' he whispered.
'I can't make
up to you, Rella. But I can try with everything I've got left to avenge you.' Supported on the crutch the Rodian had fashioned from a length of pipe and a cloth-padded brace of plasteel, Cohl followed Boiny out into the corridor. The bound and blindfolded customs agents were scarcely aware of them as they moved stealthily toward the warehouse's spaceport entrance. The female agent whose uniform Rella had taken remained unconscious from the shot Boiny had given her aboard the ship.
The front room was loud with the noise of launches and landings, despite the roll-away doors being closed. The repulsorsleds were still hovering a meter off the sawdust-strewn floor, and everything else was much as Cohl remembered it.
Boiny studied the room for a moment, then walked to the center of the floor, two meters from the lead sled.
'There was a cargo crate here.' Cohl eyed the telltale marks in the sawdust.
