"Hey," Ton said.

"What?" Mish spun the pilot's chair around so it was facing Phanan, who leaned back slightly as though affronted.

"What're you two lovely ladies arguing about?"

"Ton." Kat turned in her chair. "It's a pilot argument."

"Hey." Ton shrugged. "I can do all that pilot stuff.

Mish and Kat exchanged dubious looks. Kat was the first to speak. "Sure you can," she said. Mish looked slightly more worried than before.

"So budge over and let me land this baby."

Mish looked towards the ceiling. "I think not."

"Hey, I'm amazing! Especially at piloting!"

"Which is why you're more than 20 percent mechanical, right?" Mish asked.

Ton shrugged slightly, and looked sheepish.

"Ton, please don't," Kat said. "Wool really doesn't suit you."

"What, and fur does?" Ton's mind lingered on the prospect of him going undercover as 'Earnest the Wonder Ewok' since he hadn't come up with a better plan. Or at least a zanier plan. He had to hand it to the two girls, they had outweirded him once again.

Kat and Mish said nothing, and Mish turned back to the instruments. Kat noticed this, and leaned over. "What? I thought I said not to lay in that course until we ha-"

"Kat, if we don't lay in another course before we get there, it'll look suspicious," Mish interjected.

"You really don't get it, do you?"

"Of course I do. Are you questioning my piloting skills, Kat?"

"No, just your navigational and common sense skills."

"What? Let me get this straight - you're questioning my navigation skills and my common sense?"

"Hell yeah!"

"What?!"

"Yeah, I am."

"WHAT?! Do you want to take this outside?"

"It's a vacuum outside. We're in space."

"I know. That's what I meant. Or else would you prefer a quick bl-"

"Ladies, ladies," Ton smoothed the almost erupted argument down with smooth tones. "How about you just put a fake course in?"

Kat and Mish glared at Ton. Together, they said, "GET BACK IN THE CARGO AREA!"

Phanan put his hands up in a submissive gesture. "Okay, okay. I know when I'm not wanted." He backed away. "Anyone for some Lomin Ale?"

Mish and Kat sighed. Mish shook her head. "Okay, okay," she said. "Let's do it Ton's way."

"Yeah," Kat said. "Just to save argument, though."

"Of course. 'Cause my way was better."

"No, mine was."

"Whatever you say."

"Don't give me sarcasm."

"Sarcasm's my middle name!"

"Yeah? I thought it was-"

"Sure, why not. Did Ton say 'Lomin Ale'?" Mish got up from the pilot's chair and headed off into the cargo area.

Kat, after putting her plan into action, joined them.

Mish's Kat-Has-Tampered-With-My-Plan mechanism reset itself, and the course continued as Phanan had suggested.

“Smuggler’s Run,” Mish said grandly, coming down the hatch. “You’ll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.”

“What about Mos Eisley?” Kat piped up from the bottom of the hatch.

Mish gave her a Look. “Shut up.”

“What? I was just asking! You-“

“Ladies, ladies,” Ton interjected. “It’s not a nice place. I get it.”

Kat gave Phanan a once-over. “I don’t know about that disguise,” she said for the sixth time. She was catching up to Mish, who had said it nine times so far. “We still have Janson’s Ewok suit-“

“No! I told you, impersonating an Ewok is a felony on some worlds.” It was Ton’s fifteenth repetition of the phrase.

“But come on, who’s going to buy you as the infamous Necromancer of Rudrig?” Mish asked dubiously.

“Yeah, we don’t even know what he looks like,” Kat added.

Ton sighed. He had to tell them. “Ladies… I’ve been keeping a secret from you.”

Kat and Mish exchanged a glance. Ton hated it when they did that; he could never tell what they were communicating to each other. He decided to go on.

“You may not know what the Necromancer of Rudrig looks like, but I do. I have it on very good authority that he looks… like me.”

Mish and Kat both stared at him with the question “Are you nuts?” plain on their faces. “Whose authority?” Mish finally asked.

“My grandmother. The Necromancer…” Phanan paused dramatically, “is my cousin.”

Kat and Mish exchanged another of their famous glances, then burst out laughing.

“What?” Ton asked, irritated.

It took a moment, but finally Kat was able to say, “Sorry, doctor, but… we know,” between her fits of giggles.

“Ton, you don’t have a cousin,” Mish added.

Ton sighed. “Fine. Do you want me to admit it? I admit it. But… well, I was just out of med school, and… I’d like to see you find a doctor who hasn’t tried to raise the dead!”

“Not the way you did it,” Mish suggested delicately. She and Kat were both, at this point, doubled over and wheezing.

“No respect,” Ton grumbled. “I get no respect!”

“Sorry, Mr. Necromancer, sir,” Kat said, trying to keep a straight face and failing miserably.

He mock-glared. “Can we just get on with this? Every second you waste laughing is another second that the Glass Prowler can get sicker.”

They immediately sobered. “Sorry Ton,” they mumbled.

It sometimes comes in handy to be a Superior Intellect, Phanan reflected.

"Hey, give me the strongest stuff you've got," Mish ordered at the bar. Well, she figured keeping up appearances and all . . . A tall smoking blue drink was put in front of her. "Cheers," Mish said, and handed over some credits - just under what was necessary for the drink - and then walked away to one of the tables, where four smugglers were playing sabacc.

"Whaddya want?" one of the players asked her. He was a tall man, muscular, with blue eyes and brown hair. He smelled almost as bad as the rest of Smuggler's Run, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in three days. This was because he hadn't. He hadn't had a bath in three days either, hence the smell. His name, incidentally, was Kale.

"Can't I just want the company of three handsome smugglers?" Mish asked suggestively.

The female smuggler on the table smiled, and looked up from her cards. "No, because they're mine."

"Blue!" Mish recognised the smuggler. "How you doing?"

"Lia?" Blue asked. Lia Amber was the smuggler alias Mish was using, and Ria Amber was the one Kat was using.

Mish did her patented Flourishy Bow Thing. "At your service."

The three male smugglers looked amused, which was better than looking at their blasters, or noticing that in completing the Flourishy Bow Thing Mish had picked Kale's pocket.

"I haven't seen you in AGES!" Blue said. "Thought you might be dead or retired—" at this she let out a small 'pfft' of amusement— "or something. What're you really doing here? And where's Ria?"

Mish waved Kat and Ton over. "You remember Sinewy Ana Blue?" Mish asked Kat.

"Yeah. Hey, how's the sabacc doing?" Kat asked conversationally.

"Not too bad, not too bad. Of course, I keep beating this lot." Blue motioned at the three smugglers.

"Not a hard thing to do," Kat replied, throwing a winning smile at the three. The youngest one, Uric, sitting between Kale and the other smuggler, grinned back stupidly. Mish fought the urge to roll her eyes. Men were all the same, universe over.

"And who's your friend?" Blue asked, a glint in her eye.

"The Necromancer of Rudrig," Ton announced, pleased to be able to get a word-in-edgeways, usually reserved for the word 'fishslice' for no particular reason. Ton's hastily dyed black doctor's coat billowed out behind him dramatically.

The three male smugglers looked suitably impressed.

Blue did another 'pfft' and gave him an evaluating look. Ton's thoughts went back to the Ewok suit. Finally, she cracked a smile, and Ton let out an inaudible sigh of relief when she announced, "He'll do."

"We're looking for information," Mish said, sliding into the seat next to the as-of-now-un-thought-about smuggler, who was an average looking blond-haired brown-eyed chap called 'Conrad' who used the smuggler name of 'Slick', because he thought it made him sound cooler.

Kat slid next to Kale, and wrinkled her nose slightly at the whiff coming off him. Ton stood and looked impressive. Most impressive.

"On what?" Blue asked.

"A missing person," Kat explained.

"Which one?"

"A certain one . . . Perhaps we could continue this somewhere private?" Mish enquired, letting her arm lay on the table next to Slick's. He didn't know about any missing person, but he decided somewhere private with this 'Lia Amber' woman might be a good idea. What he didn't know, however, was that Mish was completely uninterested in him, but was using a small James Bond-like device to read what score he had on his sabacc cards. It was minus five, which was the worst out of all the players. Mish's other hand was skillfully picking his pocket. She wasn't a petty criminal, but when in Rome, or indeed, Smuggler's Run . . .

"I think that can be arranged," Blue said, with a winning smile in Ton's direction. "End game, boys."

The sabacc cards were laid on the table: Slick's minus five, Kale's positive one, Uric's positive twelve and Blue's positive nineteen. She collected her winnings and got up, motioning for Mish, Kat and Ton to follow her.

"Want to go someplace after?" Slick asked Mish as she got up.

"After-life? You can go to hell," Mish replied levelly, punching him in the gut. Kale, who was going to make a move on Kat, noticed that his not-so-cool friend was doubled over in pain, and decided against asking Kat out.
 

"So, what was it you wanted information on?" Blue asked, having removed all the listening devices out of one of the guest-rooms.

Ton stood by the door, still looking moody. Mish and Kat perched on one of the beds, which, amazingly, didn't have a thick layer of slime over it. "Lievel," Mish said.

"Lievel? He ain't visited Smuggler's Run since you were last here, Lia."

Kat grinned. "Not surprising after what happened last time he tried to double-cross us." She knew that Mish's plan was to find Lievel and get him to tell her where Dr. Cimex was.

"But do you know where he is, or how to reach him?" Mish pressed on.

Blue leaned on the opposite bedpost. "I could. For the right cost."

"Name it," Mish said, bringing out two wallets.

Ton wondered where they had got the sort of money Blue was speaking about from. His practice, although overpriced, didn't exactly afford to pay smugglers for information. He also wondered where Mish had acquired two rather shabby looking wallets filled with that many credits.

Blue took the two wallets. "Yeah, about that much. I didn't catch you swiping them either," she said, vague admiration in her voice. "You're most likely to find him on Dathomir. Word in the skips is he crashed there about five months ago and got captured by some Jedi woman as a pet. Or something. His co-pilot made it out, though."

"Yeah?" Ton asked.

"Yeah." Blue smiled prettily in Ton's direction. "Esra Parc."

Mish and Kat exchanged a look again.

"And he'll be where?" Mish asked.

"I have no idea."

"You don't?" Kat asked.

"No, I don't. Last time anyone heard from him he was trying to pull his life back together after escaping Dathomir. He'd stolen a Y-wing and was hiding out here before going to Nal Hutta. Had some sort of debt to pay off to the Hutts. Hah!" Blue laughed. "The debt's paid, I guess. You staying long?"

"Nah, we'll be leaving soon," Kat said. "We've got the info we need."

"Alright." Blue stalked out of the room, brushing her hand against Ton's chest as she left. Ton thought he heard her mutter something about necromancers as she walked out. Mish and Kat thought they heard her mutter something about fake necromancers as she walked out.

"I told you it'd work," Ton said. "I told you it'd work."