Slave Ship (star wars)

by K. W. Jeter

Vader's holo image stood with its arms folded across its chest. Mindful of the short leash-even shorter now-that the Emperor kept him on, Vader made no reply to the taunt.

  "And just what are those means, Xizor?"

  He looked back toward the Emperor." They are simple enough, my lord. The Bounty Hunters Guild is not what it was; with one blow, we have cleaved it into two opposed segments, factions filled with murderous hatred for each other. Whatever pretense to brotherhood the bounty hunters may have once maintained, that sham at least has been ripped away. Now we must complete the process of fragmentation. Each individual bounty hunter must be turned against all others, in whichever faction they currently reside. They must have no interests in common, but only enmity for each other."

  "That may be the goal," said the Emperor," but it is not the method. You have not answered my question, and I grow impatient. Tell me now just how you propose to shatter these two factions into their constituent atoms."

  Unflinching, Xizor returned the Emperor's hard, cold gaze." By the very element that motivates these creatures, that made them decide to become bounty hunters in the first place. A powerful, galaxy-spanning force in its own right." Xizor hesitated a moment, in an intentional dramatic effect." Greed," he said." That will do it."

  The Emperor's smile grew even less pleasant than before." There is a wisdom-even a certain justice-in turning a creature's own nature against itself. Much of my own rule depends upon exactly that tactic." Palpatine nodded slowly." Let me hear the precise details you have envisioned, Xizor."

  That was when he knew he had won another round in this game. Even before Xizor had finished relating the plan to the Emperor, he was sure that it would be approved. He would be empowered to carry out the next step in his plans.

  And as long as the Emperor thought that those plans were entirely to his benefit, and to the benefit of the Empire. . . so much the better. Soon enough, thought Xizor, he'll find out the truth. But by then, it would be too late.

  "And what say you, Lord Vader?" The Emperor turned his gaze toward the holo image at the other side of the throne room." I expect that your silence does not indicate a wild enthusiasm for Prince Xizor's suggested plan."

  "You know my thoughts, my lord." Vader's image stood stiff and inflexible." I see no point in repeating my words. But if you wish to hear them, so be it. This scheme of Prince Xizor's, just like his previous failure, is a waste of time and energy. Your attention would be better placed elsewhere, on the true concerns of the Empire."

  "Just as I expected," said Palpatine wearily." You confirm my estimate of the jealousy you bear toward any other servant of mine." The Emperor raised his hand, in a gesture directed toward Xizor." Proceed with your plans against the remnants of the Bounty Hunters Guild. But bear in mind, Xizor: failure is no longer an option for you. There is only success-or death."

  Xizor bowed his head." That is as I prefer it, my lord."

  The hem of his heavy robes swirled against his boots as he turned from the gaunt, ancient figure on the throne. He strode toward the high doors that led out of the room in which the galaxy's ruler sat.

  All the way, and even to the vaulted corridors beyond, he was aware of Vader's gaze at his back, like the sharp point of a vibroblade, waiting for the chance of a fatal thrust.

  9

  NOW

  "You make it sound as if you had been there." In the narrow space aboard the Hound's Tooth, Neelah folded her arms across her breast. She gazed skeptically at the other figure with her." How would you know so much about what went on in Emperor Palpatine's throne room?"

  "There's ways," said Dengar. He sat on the floor's metal grate, his back against the bulkhead." How do you know I wasn't there with the Emperor, and Darth Vader and Prince Xizor?"

  "They wouldn't have let you in." Neelah leaned against the structural beam behind her." I know that much, at least." There had been plenty of other things she hadn't known, which Dengar had had to explain to her; the story he had been relating to her, about all the bad blood in the past between the Trandoshan bounty hunter Bossk and Boba Fett, wouldn't have made sense otherwise. Who Emperor Palpatine was, and even Darth Vader, the entity known as the Dark Lord of the Sith-those things she'd had a rough idea of before Dengar had started with the story. Neelah had kept her ears open while she had been one of the dancing girls in Jabba the Hurt's palace; in a place like that, with its unrelenting atmosphere of ennui and malice, gossip about the galaxy's politics and dominant personalities had been just as endless. Most of the sentient creatures in the palace, from the lowliest scullery hands to the top-level mercenaries, had been constantly on the lookout for some way to scrabble up the chains of credits and power that seemed to link the stars together like an invisible web. Loyalty to any one employer was strictly a mercantile commodity, to be bought and sold like all the other temporary services.

  So Topic A of conversation, in all the barracks and corridors and slop pits, had always been about who was up and who was down, who had managed to wangle a way closer to the center of the Imperial court, who had gone over to the Rebel Alliance, who was for sale to the highest bidder-and who was dead, all the scheming and maneuvering having reached an end with a blaster bolt to the head. Disloyalty might be more profitable in this universe, but it also had its price.

  "All right," said Dengar." I wasn't there. But other creatures were; the Imperial court is full of eavesdroppers and snoops. Just like Jabba's palace." Neelah had told him about how much she had learned in that viewless fortress back on Tatooine." If you're not listening, you're not surviving-that's how those places are set up. It's not a matter of spies, so much-though there are always plenty of those, some of 'em talking to the Rebels, some reporting to Black Sun-as it is just sentient creature nature. And I know how to keep my ear to the ground as well, you know." Dengar pointed with his thumb toward the ship's cockpit deck above them." I may not be quite the bounty hunter that Boba Fett is, but I got at least a few of the necessary skills. You can't get anywhere in this business without being able to work your info sources. I got some lines into the Imperial court and Black Sun-some of them official, the stuff they want you to know, and some of them out the back door." Neelah raised an eyebrow." And you trust them?" " No more than I have to." Dengar gave a shrug." Some information I paid for-hey, it's a business expense-and that's usually got at least a little reliability factor to it. If you get killed because you trusted something they told you, you're not going to be coming back to buy any more from them. And some things you can get confirmed from more than one source-even when it's something to do with somebody dead, like Prince Xizor. The problem with running a criminal organization is that you've always got a lot of less-than-honorable creatures working for you, and knowing all about your business dealings. So when you're gone, they'll always talk for a credit or two." A half smile showed on Dengar's face." Why do you think creatures like me spend so much time in dumps like that cantina back in Mos Eisley? It ain't the food, and it sure isn't the gnardly music they got going there. No, what creatures go to a place like that to hear is information, pure and simple. Keep your ears open and you can find out all sorts of things."

  "If you say so." Neelah was less than impressed. As far as she could tell, Dengar was entirely too trusting. Probably just as well, she thought, that he's getting out of the business. Still, she had the odd conviction that the story-or at least as much of it as he'd told her so far-was true. A sudden, disturbing notion came to her: Maybe I already knew some of these things. From before, from that life that had been stolen from her, that had been hers before her memory had been wiped clean and she had been enslaved in Jabba the Hutt's palace. If that was true, it meant that she had been something quite different from a simple dancing girl and potential rancor-fodder.

  But I knew that, too-deep inside her spirit, in some place where an unquenchable spark of fire had remained glowing in the surrounding darkness, she had been absolutely sure that her true identity was something higher and greater than the lies
in which she had been trapped. Even before she had discerned that Boba Fett had been watching out for her in the palace, making sure that nothing too horrible-or at least fatal-happened to her. Some strange twisting fate had brought her to that place, and some other destiny lay beyond it-if she could find it and hold it tight to herself. Everything that had been taken from her, the very self that had been erased, like a name written on a scrap of flimsiplast and set on fire, reduced to crumbling ash; she would either find it or die in the attempt. In some ways, it didn't matter which; that was what left her unafraid of the helmeted figure up in the Hound's Tooth's cockpit. The worst Boba Fett could do was kill her; the other death, in which her identity had been destroyed, had already happened to her, long ago.

  "You can believe it or not," said Dengar." Doesn't matter to me. But you could get the same story from plenty of other creatures in this galaxy; now that all that stuff is over, the whole war among the bounty hunters, most of it's not exactly a secret." With an upward tilt of his head, Dengar again indicated the cockpit above them." Boba Fett made sure of that."

  "He helped spread these stories-is that what you mean? Why would he do that?"

  "Anything that adds to his reputation, he figures is a good idea. He won big out of that whole bounty hunters war, and against some pretty fierce opponents. Hey" -Dengar laid a hand on his own chest-" I'm pretty impressed. It's the kind of thing that when a lot of other creatures, bounty hunters or not, meet up with Boba Fett, they just roll over and play dead from the start. No sense in actually winding up dead. So it saves him a lot of time and effort, being preceded by that kind of well-known history."

  Neelah supposed that made sense. Though it raised some other questions as well. If Boba Fett saw some advantage to grooming his reputation, using the myths and legends about him as a weapon against other creatures, then where did the process stop? A convenient lie or exaggeration would serve his purposes just as well as the truth. And once that possibility was admitted, then nothing about him could be trusted. Nothing that he couldn't back up with his own actions. There's the problem, admitted Neelah. You guess wrong, and it would cost you your life.

  "So then what happened?" Neelah sat back down at the base of the ship's structural beam, across the small space from Dengar." Come on-the story doesn't end there." All the while that the Hound's Tooth had been traveling through space, toward its unrevealed destination, she had been listening to him. She had lost track of time, of how many Standard hours had gone by." What went on next with Boba Fett and all the other bounty hunters?"

  "I don't know if I should bother telling you." Dengar had rooted around in the Hound's storage area and had found an empty cargo duffel. He wadded it up into a makeshift pillow." Not if you're going to be so skeptical about everything. What's the point?"

  Spare me, thought Neelah. She rolled her eyes upward in exasperation. Someday, if he lived that long, this supposedly sentient creature would be on the hands of some other female, his bride-to-be Manaroo. Neelah didn't envy her.

  "All right." She barely managed to control her anger." You have my apologies." Neelah would have liked to have given him more than that, and hard enough to hurt." I don't doubt a single thing you tell me." For the time being, she promised herself. But before the Hound's Tooth reached wherever Boba Fett was taking them, she needed to have more hard information. She wasn't sure she'd find out what she needed from this complicated history of the war among the bounty hunters, but right now it was her only lead." So why don't you go ahead and tell me the rest of what happened?"

  "Maybe later." Dengar stretched out on the floor, tucking the wadded-up duffel behind his head." I'm exhausted." His eyes closed." Besides-I don't feel like wearing my throat out, telling old stories to unappreciative brats. Especially sarcastic ones."

  The urge to violence nearly overwhelmed her. Her eyes narrowed as she gazed at Dengar, either already asleep or pretending to be. A swift kick to the head would either wake him up or put him out for good. It's tempting, thought Neelah.

  With the last vestige of self-control, she decided on another course of action. With a final withering glance at the recumbent figure of Dengar, Neelah turned and started up the ladder to the ship's cockpit.

  He heard someone coming up, from the ship's main hold below. There was no need for Boba Fett to turn away from the navigation controls of the Hound's Tooth; the mere sound of the steps upon the ladder's treads, lighter than they would have been for the other bounty hunter Dengar, indicated which of the ship's passengers it was.

  "So where are we?" Just as he had figured: the female Neelah's voice spoke from behind him." Still out in the middle of nowhere? Or are we getting close to this mysterious destination we're supposed to be heading toward?"

  There was an obvious level of irritation in her voice. Boba Fett turned his visored gaze away from the cockpit's viewport and glanced over his shoulder at her." It's a good thing," he said with deliberate mildness," that you're not planning on going into the bounty hunter trade anytime soon. For us, patience isn't just a virtue-it's a necessity. If you rush your shot, you can wind up in a galaxy of trouble."

  "I'll try to remember that." Neelah stood in the cockpit's hatchway; a simmering anger, barely controlled, showed in her dark eyes." I'll tuck it away with all the other free advice everyone's been giving me. Since that seems to be all that I get around here." Her expression darkened." Or anywhere else, for that matter."

  The female's bad mood reminded Boba Fett that there were definite advantages to transporting hard merchandise, the kind of sentient creatures that bounties had been posted on. Those, thought Fett, you can always throw into a holding cage. There was never any question of who was in charge, not just in the big things but right down to the smallest details. The situation was a little more confused with Neelah; at some point, he was likely to need her cooperation. Even when she had been a dancing girl in Jabba the Hurt's palace, she had still retained some of the haughty personality traits that had been part of her former highborn social position. Those ran so deep that not even the most thorough memory wipe could root them out. So now, if she were to develop a grudge against him, getting her back on his side might take some considerable doing. Rules out the cage, decided Fett.

  There were other considerations as well that he had to take into account. Neelah was already starting to piece together the tantalizing, infuriating fragments of memory that had been left to her. Dengar had told him all that she had talked about, back in the cavern hiding place on Tatooine; things that Dengar himself did not know the significance of-but Fett did.

  Nil Posondum, thought Boba Fett. She had remembered that name. Fett wasn't surprised. That former accountant, who had then become hard merchandise in Slave I's holding cage, was the key to all that had happened to Neelah. If she were to connect that memory fragment with the enigmatic message that Posondum had scratched into the metal floor of the holding cage, a great many mysteries would be resolved for her.

  Boba Fett wasn't ready for that to happen; not yet, at least. The scratched message no longer existed, except as an image that had been inside Slave I's onboard databanks, that had now been transferred here on the Hound's Tooth. The image, and the information in the scratched message, was still safely locked up. And that was how it was going to remain.

  In the meantime, though, he had one seriously annoyed female standing in front of him.

  "It's too bad," said Boba Fett," that you've had your fill of good advice. Because I was just about to give you some more."

  "Yeah?" Leaning against the side of the hatchway, Neelah raised a skeptical eyebrow." What is it?"

  "Simple. Take it easy. We've got a long way to go yet, and there's a lot that can happen at the other end. So you should relax while you can."

  "Oh." Neelah gave a slow nod, as though thinking it over." Really? That's what you do? 'Relax'?" The next sound she made was a short, scornful laugh." The only time I ever saw you relax was when you were unconscious, right after you got vomited up b
y that Sarlacc beast. If that's what you mean by relaxing, it doesn't seem like such a good idea."

  If he had been capable of amusement, the female's comment might have done the job." That wasn't relaxing," said Boba Fett." That was dying." And it would have ended with his death, lying there half-digested on the hot sands of Tatooine's Dune Sea, if it hadn't been for both her and Dengar. Owing anything, let alone one's life, to another creature was a new experience for him. How to pay off debts such as those was a problem he was still thinking about. Without that consideration, he would undoubtedly have been harsher toward the other passengers aboard the Hound's Tooth.

  "Maybe," mused Neelah," I just don't know what a creature like you considers 'relaxing. ' I guess killing other creatures is something that suits you."

  "Not as much as getting paid for it."

  Neelah fell silent for a few moments. Turning away from her and back toward the cockpit's control panel, Boba Fett made a few more navigational calculations. As he had anticipated, Bossk's former ship was neither as technologically advanced nor as well maintained as his own ship Slave I. That sloppiness had taken him a while to get used to, and it still irritated him. He found it little wonder that Bossk had never been able to reach the top of the bounty hunter trade; the Trandoshan had tried to substitute sheer ruthlessness and violence for careful planning and investment in equipment. That never works, Boba Fett told himself. Ruthlessness and violence were necessary, all right; they just weren't enough.

  The female's voice broke into his thoughts." Maybe I'd be able to relax, if I could break open your head."

  Boba Fett didn't look around at her." What's that supposed to mean?"

  "You heard me. I wish I could crack that helmet of yours as though it were an egg." Neelah's words turned vehement." I'm sorry I didn't take my chance when you were lying there on your deathbed. Then I could have cracked open your skull as well, and I could've found out what I need to know. About myself."