"What seems to be the problem, citizen?" Xizor asked.
"You murdering scum! You bog slime!" The man lunged in closer, swung a roundhouse punch at Xizor's head. Had it connected it would have shattered bone. Xizor ducked and sidestepped, kicked the attacker in the belly with the toe of his right boot and knocked the man's wind out.
The attacker tottered back a few steps to catch his breath.
"Have we met? I have an excellent memory for faces, and I don't recall yours." Xizor noticed a bit of lint on the shoulder of his tunic. He reached up and brushed it off.
"You killed my father. Have you forgotten Colby Hoff?" The man charged again, fists swinging wildly.
Xizor stepped aside and almost nonchalantly slammed a hammerfist into the man's head, knocking him down.
"You are mistaken, Hoff. Your father committed suicide, as I recall. Stuck a blaster in his mouth and blew the back of his head off, didn't he? Very messy." Hoff came up from the floor, and his rage drove him at Xizor again.
Xizor V-stepped to his right and drove his left boot heel at Hoff's left knee, hard. He heard the joint go with a wet snap as he connected.
Hoff fell, his left leg no longer able to support him.
"You ruined him!" He struggled up to his good knee.
"We were business competitors," Xizor said matter- of-factly. "He gambled that he was smarter than I. A foolish mistake. If you cannot afford to lose, you should not play the game." "I'm going to kill you!" "I think not," Xizor said. He stepped in behind the wounded man, moving fast for one his size, and grabbed Hoff's head with both hands. "You see, to contend with Xizor is to lose. As far as any reasonable person is concerned, attacking me will also be judged a suicide." With that, Xizor gave a sharp, hard twist.
The crack of vertebrae was quite loud in the corridor.
"Clean up this mess," he said to his guards. "And inform the proper authorities of this poor young man's fate." He looked down at the body. He felt no remorse. It was like stepping on a roach. It meant nothing to him at all.
In his most private chamber, the Emperor sat staring at a life-size holographic recording: Prince Xizor break- ing the neck of someone who'd attacked him in a pro- tected corridor.
The Emperor smiled and turned in his floating repul- sor chair to look at Darth Vader.
"Well," the Emperor said, "it seems that Prince Xizor has kept up his martial arts practice, does it not?" Unseen under his armored mask, Vader frowned.
"He is a dangerous man, my master. Not to be trusted." The Emperor favored him with one of his unattrac- tive, toothy smiles. "Do not trouble yourself with Xizor, Lord Vader. He is my concern." "As you wish." Vader bowed.
"One wonders how that hotheaded young man managed to get into a protected corridor," the Emperor said. But there was no wonder in the Emperor's voice, none at all.
Vader's face froze. He knew. It was not possible, for the guard who had admitted the would-be assassin into the corridor was no longer among the living, and none but that single man had known who ordered him to allow the young man access-but somehow, the Em- peror knew.
The Emperor's mastery of the dark side was great indeed.
"I will look into it, my master," Vader said.
The Emperor waved an age-spotted hand in dis- missal. "Don't bother. There was no harm done. Prince Xizor was hardly at risk, after all, was he? He seems quite capable of taking care of himself-though I would hate to see anything happen to him as long as he is useful to us." Vader bowed again. As usual, the Emperor made his point in a subtle manner, but in such a way that it could not be ignored. There would be no further at- tempts to test Xizor's ability to defend himself against deadly attack.
Not yet, anyway.
Meanwhile, Vader would keep a close watch on the Dark Prince. The Falleen was all too devious, and whatever his twisted mind was up to would serve the Empire only if it served Xizor himself.
Xizor was, after all, a criminal. His morals were per- verse, his ethics situational, his loyalties nonexistent.
He would stop at nothing to get his way, and Vader was fairly certain in his own mind that what Xizor wanted did not include a galaxy in which there was room for Vader or the Emperor.
To contend with Xizor is to lose?
We shall see.
4 The landspeeder carrying them neared their destina- tion, Leia saw Luke standing next to the house, watch- ing. Odd, that he would somehow know of their approach.
Of course, out here in the middle of nowhere, noth- ing but sand and rocks and scrub, he could have seen them coming for a long way. It might not be the Force at work here but simple observation.
Chewie brought the speeder to a stop. Dust kicked up by the repulsors floated around them for a moment before the nearly constant wind swirled it away. This climate would leach you dry if you stayed out in it un- protected for too long. The dunes shifted and revealed more than a few crisp white bones of those who had thought they could move around the desert with impu- nity.
Luke smiled at her, and once again Leia felt that sense of confusion. She loved Han, but here was Luke, and she certainly felt a connection to him, too. Was it possible for a woman to love two men at the same time? She returned his smile. It was not the same with Luke as with Han, but there was something there.
"Hey, Luke," Lando said.
Chewie added what had to be a greeting.
"Master Luke, it's so good to see you again," Threepio said. His normally bright golden color was somewhat dimmed by a coat of dust. It seemed as if the protocol droid somehow attracted more dirt to himself than the rest of them did, though Leia felt a little gritty herself after the long ride from town.
Even Artoo whistled a happy greeting.
They all liked Luke. There was something about him that seemed so natural and so attractive. Maybe it was the Force flowing through him. Maybe it was because he seemed like such a nice person.
"We would have called," Lando said, "but we didn't want to risk having our com overheard. Chewie saw a couple of those new Imperial codecracker slicer droids in town; he thinks they might be monitoring local calls.
No point in taking any unnecessary risks." Luke nodded. "Good thought. Come on inside." There was a faint smell of something cooking in what had been Obi-Wan's simple home. The aroma re- minded Leia of a time she'd gone camping as a girl and had sat around an open fire. She saw a small blast fur- nace set up on a table. Was Luke making some kind of jewelry?
They told Luke why they'd come.
He was immediately excited. He was ready to hop into his X-wing and leave right now.
"Hold on a second," Lando said. "First we have to make sure Fett's there. Then there's the little matter of the Imperial Navy." Luke shrugged. "Hey, we can fly circles around those guys." Lando and Leia exchanged glances. Whatever else Luke was, he was not lacking in self-confidence when it came to his piloting.
Chewie spoke up.
Threepio translated: "Ah, Chewbacca wonders if perhaps the Rebel Alliance might not be willing to help, given Master Han's services to them." Luke grinned like a child seeing a new toy. "Sure they would. Wedge is in command of Rogue Squadron now, and he told me if I ever needed them they'd come running." "They can drop whatever they are doing, just like that?" Lando asked.
Leia nodded. "I don't see why not. The Alliance's chain of command is a lot looser than the Empire's. We have to be more flexible, given the numbers. The Rogues don't have any permanent assignment, and I'm sure I can convince the Alliance that Captain Solo is worth rescuing. He was instrumental in the destruction of the Death Star; plus we need all the good pilots we can get." Leia glanced at the others quickly, to see if her somewhat shaky reasoning covered her true feelings.
Luke didn't seem to see past what she said, eager to fly as he was; Lando's small grin could mean anything; the droids and Chewie were unreadable.
"Great," Luke said. "Let's do it!" "Not so fast," Lando said. "First what say we wait for the confirmation that Fett is actually on Gall before we
take off? That's a long trip to make for nothing." Leia could see that Luke didn't want to wait-pa- tience didn't seem to be his strongest virtue-but he could see the wisdom of what Lando said. "Okay. But in the meantime, let's contact Wedge and have the Rogues standing by." "I'll speak to the leadership," Leia said.
She hoped that Lando's informant-what was his name? Dash somebody?-would get the information to them quickly. And she hoped that the rumor was true.
Nobody wanted Han back more than she did.
izor sat at the head of the long table in his private meeting room, watching the nervous faces of his lieu- tenants. Guri stood behind him at a modified parade rest, her hands out of sight at the small of her back.
They had reason to be nervous, his lieutenants. By ascending to this level in Black Sun, they had each earned the honorific "Vigo," from the old Tionese for "nephew." It fostered the illusion that the top manag- ers of the organization were family and thus made them appear stronger to outsiders.
Unfortunately, the appearance was not always the truth.
One of them at the table was a spy.
Xizor did not know for whom the spy worked- could be the Empire, the Rebel Alliance, even a rival criminal organization-and he did not particularly care. Everybody spied on everybody in this business, it was a given, but the fact that it was normal did not mean that you let it pass when you found it.
Now, at the beginning of this meeting, he had nine lieutenants at this table, each of whom was responsible for several stellar systems.
At the end of this meeting, he would have eight lieu- tenants.
But first, the normal business of Black Sun must be attended to and properly settled.
"I will have your reports," Xizor said. "Vigo Lonay?" Lonay was a Twi'lek, sly, clever, and cowardly. He wore his prehensile head-tails wrapped and draped over one shoulder, his usual garish jewelry and decora- tive coloration toned down for this meeting. "My prince, the spice trade is up twenty-one percent in our sector, the gambling casino ships have increased their business by eight percent, and the arms dealers are do- ing a brisk business; current estimates indicate a thirty- one percent increase. Unfortunately, slave revenues are down fifty-three percent. Several planets have fallen un- der the sway of the Rebel Alliance and passed local laws forbidding slavery. Until the Empire chooses to intercede, I am afraid revenues in this area will remain depressed." Xizor nodded. Lonay would always be too much a coward to risk death by betraying his "uncle." His whole species was that way.
The Dark Prince said, "Vigo Sprax?" Sprax, a Nalroni whose dark fur had begun to gray, though he dyed it to try to appear younger, began to rattle off his statistics. Xizor watched him, listened with half his attention-he already knew all of what was being officially delivered.
Sprax was too smart to try to cross Xizor.
The Nalroni finished his report.
"Vigo Vekker?" Vekker, a Quarren, flashed a nervous smile and started his recitation.
The Squid Head had no ambition to rise any higher, was content with his job and the status quo.
One by one Xizor called for the Vigos to speak, and one by one the rest of them did: Durga the Hutt, Kreet'ah the Kian'thar, Clezo the Rodian, Wumdi the Etti, Perit the Mon Calamari, Green the Human.
It was hard to believe any of his Vigos would be so foolish; after all, one could not get to this elevated status without years of loyal effort. Some of them had come up through the ranks-smugglers, thieves, busi- nessmen-and some of them had been trained from birth and had inherited their places from their fathers, or, in the case of Kreet'ah, his biological mother. Sev- eral of these nine had been Vigos before Xizor himself had attained that rank before moving to head Black Sun.
And yet, there it was. Life was full of treachery.
He let them all sit and worry for a few moments.
Then he nodded at Guri. His most trusted bodyguard and employee began to walk behind the seated Vigos.
They all had their own intelligence operations, and they all knew at least what Xizor had allowed them to find out about the traitor-not much save that there was one. And that he did not know who it was.
A calculated bit of prevarication, this last. He did know who it was. And now the matter would be. corrected.
"A final item on our agenda, my Vigos. One of your number has seen fit to use his office to betray us. Not content with the millions of credits he has made by my largesse, the awards, bonuses, dividends, and unre- ported skim that all of you indulge yourselves in, this... person has dishonored the title of Vigo." Guri strolled behind the seated lieutenants slowly.
Xizor watched them. Those who could, sweated or flushed or otherwise showed signs of fear they could not hide.
She passed Durga, Kreet'ah, Clezo, reached the other end of the table and circled around it.
Xizor continued speaking, slowly, evenly, betraying nothing in his tone. "There are sublieutenants among your ranks who would cheerfully wipe out entire plan- ets to be given such an opportunity as you all have been given. To be a Vigo in Black Sun is to enjoy more power than all but a handful of beings in the entire galaxy." Guri passed Lonay, passed Sprax, then Vekker.
Paused a moment behind Durga the Hutt.
Tension thickened in the room, became almost tangi- ble.
Xizor thought that was a nice touch. Durga was no- body's fool and would never risk himself as a spy; no, the Hutt had ambition enough for ten; he would go for a coup. Having Guri pause behind him let him know Xizor was keeping an eye on him. A warning that he should think long and hard before trying to climb from his lofty plateau to the top of the mountain.
Guri moved on, and the sense of relief that came from Durga was, like the tension, something you could very nearly collect from the air and use for a doorstop.
The droid who could pass as a woman sauntered past Wumdi the Etti and Perit the Mon Calamari.
She stopped behind Green the Human.
Xizor smiled.
Green tried to stand, but Guri was incredibly fast.
She whipped her arm around the man's throat and locked it with her other arm into a choke hold.
Green struggled briefly, but he might as well have been wrestling with a durasteel clamp. The blood that fed his brain shut off, and he lost consciousness.
Guri tightened the hold and held it, held it, held it.
A long time passed. None of the other Vigos moved.
When Green was no longer among the living, Guri released him, and he fell forward; his head thumped loudly upon the table.
"I will accept nominations for a new Vigo now," Xizor said.
Nobody spoke for a moment, and Xizor kept his face bland. A pity about Green; he was one of the smartest of all the Vigos. But humans were quick to treachery and could hardly ever be trusted.
He looked at his lieutenants again, waited for them to speak. Here was an object lesson they would cer- tainly remember.
To contend with Xizor is to lose.
Never forget that.
After the Vigos had gone and the body had been re- moved, Guri returned.
"I thought that went well," Xizor said.
Guri nodded once, not speaking.
"You have assembled all the information on Skywalker?" "Yes, my prince." He stared into space. His organization was huge, the people working for him numbering in the tens of thou- sands, but some things he had to deal with personally.
Especially something this... sensitive.
"All of the material has been checked and rechecked?" "As you ordered." "Very well. Let the bounty hunters know the price for Skywalker's head. Black Sun's hand must be invisi- ble. There must be no mistakes." "There will be none, my prince." "Oh, I would like to speak to Jabba the Hutt." "He will be online when you return from midday meal, my prince." "No. Have him come here by the fastest ship; I would speak to him personally." "As you wish." Guri stood silently as Xizor considered his plan.
Vader wanted Skywalker, wanted him alive to give to the Emperor. Xizor's memory of th
at conversation he'd been privileged to overhear some months back was that the Emperor very much wanted the young man alive and in his control.
Black Sun's reach was long and wide, and what in- formation there was on Vader's quarry was now in Xizor's personal computer system. The Dark Lord of the Sith had all but promised to deliver Skywalker not only alive but made pliable to the Emperor's wishes.
If Vader should fail in his promise, if it could be made to appear that he had never really intended to produce this young would-be Jedi for the Emperor, if it could be made to seem that he had killed the boy rather than risk facing him...
Star Wars - Shadows of the Empire Page 4