Overhead cranes threw grappling claws at them; towering derricks toppled in their path; binary loadlifters dogged them like mechanical nightmares; and oxygen levels plummeted. Even worker droids joined the fray, brandishing fusioncutters and power calibrators as if they were flame projectors and vibroblades.

"Central control's turned the entire ship against us," Cohl yelled.

Rella squeezed off bolts at a posse of hydrospanner-wielding PK droids.

"What did you expect, Cohl-the royal welcome?" Cohl gestured Boiny, Rella, and the rest of his team toward the final bulkhead that stood between them and the centersphere turbolifts. Sirens shrieked and howled in the thin air. Crisscrossing and ricocheting blaster bolts created a pyrotechnic display worthy of a Republic Day parade on Coruscant.

Cohl fired on the run, losing count of how many droids he had dropped and how many blaster gas cartridges his weapon had expended. Two of his band were pinned down by droid fire, but there was little he or anyone else could do to help them. With luck they would get to the rendezvous point, even if they had to drag themselves there.

Pursued by three binary loadlifters, the team raced through the final bulkhead door and fought their way to the closest bank of turbolifts.

The hatch that accessed the transfer tubes was locked down.

"Boiny!" Cohl shouted.

The Rodian holstered his blaster and hurried forward, eyeing the hatch up and down, then moved to the control panel set into the wall. Preparing to slice the code, he rubbed his palms together and cracked his long, suction- tip-equipped fingers. Before he could lay a hand on the panel keys, Cohl slapped him in the back of the head.