Slave Ship (star wars)

by K. W. Jeter

  What would've happened, Neelah wondered idly, if ]abba had gotten around to throwing me to the rancor? A good question, even if it had been rendered moot by Jabba's death. The answer depended, she supposed, upon the exact nature of her importance to the bounty hunter. Was it great enough that Boba Fett would have interfered with Jabba's pleasures? Enough that, if the need had arisen, Fett would have swung his blaster rifle up and pointed it at Jabba's massive, jowly face, and the deep sepulchral voice from inside the helmet would have ordered the Hutt to let her go?

  She wasn't sure, even now; Boba Fett played a complicated game, with the value of the pieces on the board shifting as rapidly as his stratagems. Whatever concern he'd shown for her welfare in Jabba's palace hadn't been based on any great love for her. Fett had already assured her-and I believe it, she thought grimly-that concern for other creatures' lives was a notion foreign to his mind. Even when he was ferrying a piece of hard merchandise, as hostages with prices on their heads were called in the bounty hunter trade, the only consideration that kept breath in their lungs was that live prey was usually worth more than dead ones to those who forked over the credits for their capture.

  And what am I worth? That question still haunted her thoughts. As any kind of merchandise. Her worth, her value to Boba Fett; the reasons why he had been so intent upon her surviving her time in Jabba's palace-those were things that she still hadn't been able to figure out. If he had an interest in keeping her alive, then he undoubtedly had his reasons for it-and those reasons might not be any that were to her advantage.

  There was one more question that was even more disturbing. What happens, wondered Neelah, when those reasons come to an end? When her life had no more value for Boba Fett, she could hardly expect a creature like him to keep her around out of mere sentiment. She had been no more than a dancing girl to Jabba; she was sure of that, having seen the slit pupils of the Hutt's eyes narrow upon sight of her, with the same malignant, destructive lusts that all things of beauty had evoked in his blubber-swaddled heart. Boba Fett wouldn't dispose of her just for the sake of whatever sick pleasure could be found in another creature's suffering, but for cold, hard credits. Neelah didn't find that to be any better arrangement. I wind up dead, she mused bitterly, either way.

  Though there was another outcome possible. A long shot, but better than no chance at all. And much more to her liking. Somebody winds up dead, all right. She nodded slowly to herself. But it won't be me. . .

  All she would have to do-if and when that final confrontation came-would be to take on the galaxy's number-one bounty hunter, a killing machine that other killers dreaded encountering. Take him on, thought Neelah, and take him out.

  It wouldn't be easy.

  But oddly, as slim as her chances might be-she found herself almost looking forward to that final encounter.

  The course of Neelah's thoughts was interrupted by the clang of boot soles upon the treads of the ladder that stretched up from the cargo area to the cockpit of the appropriated Hound's Tooth. Neelah quickly started to close the access panel to the comm circuits, then relaxed when she saw that it was only Dengar climbing down the ladder.

  "Nice job," said Neelah. She folded her arms across her chest and regarded him." You pretty much let him wrap you up into a neat little package, didn't you?"

  Dengar stepped off the bottom of the ladder." What're you talking about?"

  "Come on." She didn't care if Dengar knew that she had been listening in on the cockpit conversations. With her thumb, she pointed to the exposed wiring and the small listening device she had found in the ship's spare-parts locker and had spliced in." I heard everything you said. And everything Boba Fett said back to you." Neelah slowly shook her head." I can't say I was very impressed. At least, not with you."

  With a sigh of pent-up breath, Dengar lowered himself onto a bare metal bench at the side of the cargo area." He's a tough customer." The bounty hunter's shoulders slumped forward, in a full kinetic display of defeat." That hunter might as well be made out of durasteel, from his skin into his heart. If he's got one."

  "What were you expecting?"

  Dengar shrugged." Pretty much what I got from him."

  "You idiot," said Neelah." I mean, what were you trying to achieve? What were your plans when you started talking to Fett?"

  "'Plans'?" A blank look crossed Dengar's face." Right now, I couldn't tell you."

  "Great." Neelah's voice soured with disgust." We're both possibly riding to our deaths-right at this moment-and the only ally I might have is completely brain-dead."

  "Hey-" The bounty hunter straightened up from his slump." That's not fair. You think it's so easy getting something out of Boba Fett, then you try it. I'll wait right here for you to come crawling back down that ladder."

  "Take it easy. I'm sorry, okay?" As if her problems weren't bad enough, now she had to be concerned about this stressed-out creature's tender feelings. She'd just been reminding herself that Boba Fett didn't have any fragile sensibilities like that; why couldn't Dengar be the same?" Look," said Neelah," you and I are going to have to stick together-"

  "Why?" Dengar peered suspiciously at her." What's in it for me? Hooking up with you, that is. I've already got a partnership going with Boba Fett. That's worth a lot more than being partner with someone like you."

  "Really?" She couldn't keep an expression of wry amusement from showing on her face." And that's why you were up there in the cockpit right now, talking things over with Fett-just like partners." Neelah gave another shake of her head." I guess it just goes to show: there are partners, and then there are partners. And you're definitely one of the latter sort."

  "Yeah? And what sort's that?"

  "The disposable sort," said Neelah." Just as disposable as I am, except I don't have any illusions about it." With one hand, she gestured at the various pieces of equipment festooning the bulkheads of the ship's cargo area." See all this stuff? It used to belong to somebody else. That other bounty hunter-"

  "Bossk. That's his name." Dengar nodded." And you're right; this was his ship."

  All of the equipment's controls and handles were sized for a creature with claws rather than humanoid digits; Neelah could have wrapped both her hands around some of the pieces that would probably have been swallowed up by a single one of Bossk's fists.

  "And look what happened to him." Neelah indicated the cockpit above with a tilt of her head." What Boba Fett did to him. It was easy, too; at least for Fett. And this Bossk, from all I've heard about him, was one tough customer as well." The Trandoshan bounty hunter had made a few appearances in Jabba the Hutt's palace during her stint as a dancing girl there, and she had listened in on some of the stories whispered about him. The tales might have indicated that Bossk was no genius, but his sheer viciousness and tenacity made up for any failings in the brain department." And Fett still managed to turn him around and inside out, and send him on his way, minus this ship."

  "That took some doing, all right." Dengar rested the palm of his hand against the cold durasteel of the bulkhead behind him." The Hound's Tooth was Bossk's pride and joy. More than that: his weapons, his way of making a living. You couldn't have bought this ship from him, for any amount of money."

  "Obviously, Boba Fett has another way of doing business." One corner of Neelah's mouth lifted in a humorless smile." Too bad for the creature on the other end of the deal. And too bad for you."

  "What do you mean by that?"

  "Come on," said Neelah." Don't be any more of a fool than you absolutely have to be. Isn't it plain to see? Your little conference just now in the cockpit should have made it clear to you just what your relationship is with Boba Fett. If you've fallen for that partners nonsense, you're even more of an idiot than you appear to be."

  A scowl darkened Dengar's face." That's hard talk, coming from somebody without a friend in the whole galaxy."

  That remains to be seen, thought Neelah. For all she knew, with the ravaged state her memory was in, she might have f
riends-powerful ones, that would do anything for her-numbering in the legions. They could be looking for her right now. If they think I'm still alive. It all depended on just what circumstances had led to her being stuck in an out-of-the-way hole like the planet Tatooine.

  It was a notion that continually resurfaced in her thoughts. But not one that she could spend any time dwelling on, right now. She had other, more pressing business to take care of.

  "You're not an idiot; my apologies." Saying even that much grated against some deeply imbedded fiber in Neelah's character, a personality trait that had survived the memory wipe that had been performed on her. Other creatures were supposed to apologize to her, whether they were in the wrong or not; she felt certain that was the proper state of affairs. But for now, in this situation in which she'd found herself, she'd have to act otherwise." But there's something you've got to understand." Neelah sat down next to Dengar on the narrow ledge of the cargo area's bench. There was barely room for the two of them on the shelflike space; her shoulder and thigh were pressed close to his, with an exchange of body warmth passing through their coarse, functional garb." It's important," said Neelah as she brought her gaze down to meet his." You and I-we have to stick together. If we're going to survive."

  Dengar drew back, regarding her with suspicion." I'll survive," he said after a moment's silence." I can take care of myself-I have so far, at least."

  "It's different now," said Neelah, her voice quiet and urgent." Different from anything you've been involved with before."

  "Maybe." The bounty hunter shrugged." But if you've got doubts about what's going to happen to you-that's your problem. I've got enough of my own."

  The urge to hit the thick-headed brute, to land her fist or some heavy piece of scrap metal against the side of his head, welled up in Neelah's breast. Muscles tensed, she fought the impulse back down.

  "Look," she said. Leaning closer, she laid a hand on Dengar's knee." It's not just your survival that's at stake. Right? If all you were concerned about was keeping your hide intact, you'd find a way to get yourself out of here, and as far away from Boba Fett-and me-as possible. That'd be the smart thing to do."

  The suspicion in Dengar's gaze hadn't ebbed. But he hadn't pulled away from her touch, either; progress of some kind was being made. Or so Neelah hoped.

  "Smart enough," conceded Dengar.

  "But there's things you're trying to accomplish. All that you want to make possible for yourself and Manaroo." There had been time enough-back on Tatooine, while she and Dengar had been keeping their vigil over the unconscious Boba Fett, slowly healing from the near-fatal wounds he had received from the Sarlacc beast's gut-for Neelah to have heard all about Dengar's hopes and dreams for the future. A future that would include marriage to his beloved Manaroo, and the abandonment of this dangerous bounty hunter trade-but only if he could pull off the kind of financial score that would wipe out his debt burden and set him and Manaroo up in a new life. The only way to do that was to set himself right in the path of the greatest danger, to remain not only a bounty hunter but one allied with the most fearsome-and treacherous-bounty hunter in the galaxy. Neelah had seen at once the quandary in which Dengar was trapped: Boba Fett might indeed be his way out of the bounty hunter trade and into that bright, shining future that he wished to put together for himself and Manaroo. But Fett could also be the trap with no exit, a web of plotting and intrigue that could only be escaped through death. Dengar's death; he might not return to his beloved except as a corpse." You can't trust Boba Fett," said Neelah, bringing her face even closer to Dengar's." He's not concerned with yours and Manaroo's happiness."

  "I don't expect him to be." Dengar spoke stiffly and guardedly." He's a businessman."

  "If that's all he were, we'd be safe. But he's a little bit more than that." Neelah tapped a forefinger against Dengar's knee." With real businessmen, on any planet, partnerships are formed all the time; that's how business is done-"

  "Oh?" Dengar seemed amused by her words." You seem to know an awful lot about these things. For someone who has no memory other than that of being a dancing girl in Jabba the Hurt's palace."

  "You don't need a memory," said Neelah," to be able to figure out how things work." In Dengar's case, it seemed like an unimpaired memory was just so much excess baggage." You just need to be smart enough to watch and listen. Come on, let's face it: if Boba Fett was interested in having a partner, he would have hooked himself up with some bounty hunter other than you."

  "Such as?"

  "Practically anybody." Neelah shrugged." He could've made an offer to Bossk. They could've worked out their differences, if it meant good business for them. You've said yourself that's all Boba Fett is interested in. And Bossk is supposedly the toughest and

  hardest bounty hunter in the galaxy, after Boba Fett himself. Those two would have made an unstoppable partnership." Neelah's eyes narrowed to slits as she saw Dengar's reaction to her words." What are you laughing about?"

  "Sorry-" A derisive smile remained on Dengar's face." But I find your ignorance amusing. You might not find your nonexistent memory a handicap, but others might. There are plenty of sentient creaturesespecially in the bounty hunter trade-who are just a little more knowledgeable about Boba Fett's personal history than you seem to be."

  An anger that had become all too familiar burst into flame around Neelah's heart. As smart as she might be-definitely smarter than this Dengar, possibly so in regard to Boba Fett-she still found herself at a disadvantage. I have to figure out things that they already know. It was a big galaxy surrounding them, in this little bubble of a stolen ship; Neelah had a lot of blanks to fill in before she would be on an equal footing with even the most ignorant back-worlder.

  They didn't just steal my memory, Neelah mused bitterly. They stole my ability-my chances-to survive.

  That was all the more reason for her to get Dengar on her side, at least for the time being. She could use him, both as an ally and as a source of information, until she had been able to find and fit enough missing pieces together, like assembling a primitive two-dimensional jigsaw puzzle inside her skull.

  It would have been easier, she knew-something else you didn't need to be a genius to figure out-if Dengar hadn't already been involved with his intended bride Manaroo. That complicated things, especially any strategy Neelah might otherwise have had for getting him on her side. Must be a real love match, Neelah had decided; the more she had heard of Dengar's plans for his and Manaroo's future life together, when he had somehow found his way out of both debt and the bounty hunter trade, had convinced her of it. Dengar's obvious devotion to the woman-he had purposely sent her away, to keep her out of danger-aroused sparks of both envy and frustration inside Neelah.

  But at Jabba's palace, she had found ways-she'd been forced to-of making life more endurable, ways that had depended upon her physical attributes. Not every male creature in that cesspit of depravity had responded to feminine beauty with the urge to destroy it in as bloody a manner as possible. Some of Jabba's underlings had been almost pathetic in their eagerness to be rewarded with a mere smile from her or any of the other dancing girls, evoked by the gift of some edible morsels filched from the palace's underground kitchens. An even better gift had been protection from the attentions of the more predatory sorts of scum that had found employment with the late Jabba. As much as Neelah had come to realize that she was under the watchful gaze of Boba Fett while she had been in the palace, she had still been grateful for any extra security that she and the other dancing girls had been able to wile out of the multispecies household staff.

  None of that was possible now, when she needed it more than ever. That was the frustrating part. Neelah had already realized that there was no hope of her replacing the absent Manaroo in Dengar's affections. If anything, he was more in love with his betrothed now than when Boba Fett's Slave I ship had ascended from the surface of Tatooine's Dune Sea. And more dedicated to his mission of putting together a future life for the
two of them, in some peaceful corner of the galaxy, far from the criminal dens and watering holes to which he'd previously been accustomed. Manaroo had already changed his life, one way or another; Neelah could see that. Without even being here aboard the Hound's Tooth, Manaroo was a critical element in all of Neelah's calculations. Worst of all, despite Dengar's vow to quit the bounty hunter trade, he still had just enough of a bounty hunter's mercenary toughness to complicate matters. He'd get rid of me in a second, thought Neelah, if he figured that was best for him and Manaroo.

  The trick would be to convince Dengar that the road to that future life he envisioned with his bride was the one that led through Neelah's plans. She already had her notions of now to plant that idea in his head. The anger that had risen inside her, like a spark thrown on dry kindling, was carefully held in check for the time being.

  "You've got me there," said Neelah, her voice carefully modulated." Of course, there's things you know about that I don't. Even before-before they did this to me-" She laid her fingertips against the side of her head." There were probably all sorts of things you knew about Boba Fett that I would never have heard of. That's the universe you've lived in. His universe."

  "That's right." Dengar nodded in agreement." It's his more than anyone else's. Boba Fett made it that way, bit by bit. If he'd wanted to-if it had suited his personal agenda-he could have taken over the entire bounty hunter trade instead of just the most profitable parts of it, the jobs that put the most credits in his pockets. There's still a remnant or two of the old Bounty Hunters Guild out there, but it's nothing compared to what it once was. Before he all but destroyed it, took it apart like a cheap astrogator device. Boba Fett could have set himself up at the top of the Guild, if he'd wanted to bother with it."