Xarran gently supported his brother, helping him walk the long landing
platform toward the garrison complex. The stormtroopers executed a crisp about
face and fell into line behind them. "You'll have nothing to fear anymore,
brother. I doubt anyone could have tracked you here."
Rivo gazed up at his brother and for the first time, there was a glimmer
of recognition in his eyes.
Heartened by the small gesture, Xarran continued. "And in the highly
unlikely event that you were followed, one would have to be certifiably insane
to even consider attacking an entire Imperial garrison."
In the distance, well concealed high in the cover afforded by the dense
foliage, a silent figure lurked in the shadows.
He watched, though he held no macrobinoculars- - for a pair was
conveniently built into his battle-scarred helmet.
He listened as easily if he were one of the storm troopers, his broadband
antenna descrambling the signal of their comlinks and effectively turning the
silent soldiers into eavesdropping devices.
Once again, nothing escaped his notice.
Just as no one escaped him.
He climbed down from his perch among the trees with surprising grace
considering the bulkiness of his battered gray and green armor.
By the time he finished his descent, darkness had begun to fall like a
velvet blanket, and the twin moons of Vryssa were steadily rising in the
northern sky.
He paused only once to stare at the towering silhouette of the Imperial
garrison base. The massive structure remained in shadow for a few moments
longer, then its powerful spot-lumas ignited. The harsh light was coldly
reflected in the figure's mask.
General Xarran had unwittingly issued an arrogant challenge.
A challenge Boba Fett was more than ready to accept....
The speeder bike patrol caught him unaware. He had just climbed down from
his overlook and was checking his equipment. His motion sensors didn't go off
until they were right on top of him. The bikes were so fast they didn't
register with enough warning time.
As he dove for cover in the thick tangle of bush, Fett saw one of the
scout troopers gesture in his general direction. His two partners immediately
circled around, moving into standard Imperial flanking position. Their
vehicles were newer models, pure scout bikes by the look of them-very fast,
but without any armaments or protection.
Fett needed to know how much they knew. He activated his antenna.... his.
.. Saw something through those trees. Hard to tell, though. Could have just
been a buldobeast."
"Keep your positions. I'll check it out."
"Acknowledged."
"Should we contact the other patrol?"
"You want to listen to their jokes about getting spooked by a little
buldo?"
"Negative."
"That's what I thought. Now, stand by."
Fett watched as the lead biker approached, giving his vehicle minimal
throttle. The repulsorlift craft drifted a few meters above the ground as the
scout trooper conducted a grid search of the area.
Ever so slowly, Fett rolled onto his back and snaked his right arm up
through the thicket. He took a single deep breath and then his body froze. The
hunter was so still it seemed as if he were made offerrocrete.
The scout biker moved overhead, directly above Fett's hiding place. The
hunter could feel the backwash from the repulsorlift engines pressing against
him. The scout was leaning over his vehicle, examining the area closely. The
trooper's head jerked back suddenly as if he had spotted something.
Fett flexed his wrist and the rocket-propelled dart housed in his forearm
compartment streaked silently through the air. The hunter's aim was perfect.
The dart jammed into the soft black bodysuit between the scout's helmet and
chestpiece. The poison worked fast, starting with the victim's vocal cords.
The man silently jerked forward and then tumbled from his seat, leaving the
speeder bike hovering in place.
Moving quickly, Fett hopped up onto the bike and jammed the comlinks of
the other two bikers. He opened up the throttle and veered off toward one of
them. Without even a glance at the other, the hunter activated his armor's
grenade launcher.
The trooper was shocked to see Fett streak past on the speeder bike going
after his partner. Figuring he had the drop on the hunter, he gunned his bike
forward- - just as Fett's grenade finished its arc and fell into his lap.
The bounty hunter felt the shock wave of the blast but didn't bother to
look back. He was too busy concentrating on his final target. This trooper was
taking no chances. The scout was hightailing it out of the vicinity in order
to escape the jamming and get some help. He already had a sizable lead on the
hunter and was rapidly increasing the gap. Fett knew he couldn't catch up-the
trooper was more familiar with the terrain.
Steering the vehicle with one hand, the bounty hunter drew his modified
blaster rifle. Scomp-linked to the macrobinoculars in his helmet, the weapon
finally locked on target at three hundred meters. The scout trooper didn't
even see the two angry crimson blaster bolts that slammed into his back and
took him clean off his vehicle.
Fett slowed his bike to a stop and scanned the area for anyone else. The
hunter was not happy-he had expended unnec time and energy. And now they would
know for sure he was on the planet.
Perhaps that might be to his advantage....
Rivo's voice cut the silence, though it was but a whisper. "He's here.
Now."
"Impossible," Xarran said, barely keeping the disgust from his voice. The
General did not like to see his brother cower. Especially in front of his men.
"You give this bounty hunter too much credit, brother. Our sensors would have
detected his ship's approach."
Rivo shook his head. "This bounty hunter is not the simpleminded scum you
are used to dealing with. Boba Fett is different. He has never failed. They
say he is the best that ever was...."
Commander Tyrix checked his console. "The patrol should have reported in
by now, sir."
"This confirms it!" Rivo said.
Xarran would have none of it. "There is no reason to make any connection
with your situation and this incident. For all we know-was
"Sir," Tyrix said. "Another patrol has found the remains of the missing
unit...." The Commander listened for a moment, pressing his headset against
his ear. He paled considerably. "They're all dead."
The General was on his feet. "How?"
"Blaster, a grenade, and some sort of poisoned dart. The troopers'
weapons were fully charged... none of the men even got off a shot."
Rivo let out a nervous giggle. "I told you... he's coming for me."
Xarran ignored him. "Commander, send out two detachments. If this bounty
hunter is indeed here, then I want him found and brought before me. Preferably
alive... although a body will do just fine."
"Two detachments, sir?" Tyrix swiveled his chair around to face the
General. "For just one man?"
Xarran's face did not so much as t
witch. "I'm sorry, Commander, did you
say something?"
"No, sir," Tyrix said, hurriedly swiveling back to his console to
activate the comlink.
Fett sat in the hunter's blind among a thick tangle of coilwood branches.
He watched as the first wave of speeder bikes roared below him, buzzing along
like bloodgnats. He felt the impact tremors as a pair of Imperial walkers
lumbered by flanked by a half dozen of their comical AT-STILL counterparts. He
shook his head in amazement as squad after squad of stormtroopers marched into
the underbrush. Their bright white armor was not exactly the best forest
camouflage.
This massive show of force told the bounty hunter all he needed to know
about his opponents....
Two detachments meant they certainly knew he was here. And they were
nervous.
Behind the tinted faceplate of his battered helmet, Boba Fett actually
smiled.
Xarran leaned over the tactical screen watching proudly as his forces
deployed into the forest. He listened to the excited comm chatter as his men
moved into position and began an expertly coordinated, utterly systematic
search. There would be no escape. Not from the might of the Empire. The
General snorted and crossed his arms over his barrel chest. "He's as good as
ours." As he spoke, all communications went dead.
Boba Fett double-checked the comm jamming unit. It was an advanced
prototype and very powerful. Unfortunately, its duration was also extremely
short: 58 minutes. And then it would explode.
He set his chronometer to countdown mode. Seconds began to vanish. He had
just under an hour to eliminate two Imperial detachments.
The hunter turned and hefted his blaster rifle. Fett only foresaw one
problem: what to do with the three minutes he would have to spare....
Perched on the edge of his seat in the walker's cockpit, Lieutenant Byrga
smacked his lips in nervous anticipation. The AT-AT drivers exchanged a quick
glance, but wouldn't dare to comment on the habit of a superior officer. Even
if it was extremely irritating.
Byrga was staring so hard at the sensor readouts that his eyeballs were
on the verge of jettisoning themselves free of his head. The Lieutenant didn't
like the fact that they had lost communications. Despite all efforts, they
could not make contact with the rest of their detachment or the garrison base.
That made Byrga anxious. His lips were smacking on overdrive.
"Don't worry," he said trying to reassure the rest of the command crew,
who had learned to ignore his rant ings and still do their jobs effectively.
"We are the best the Empire has to offer. No one escapes us. We will find this
fool who dares oppose the will of Palpatine and crush him in the iron grip of
the-
The magnetic grappler connected with the armored underbelly of the AT-AT
and locked into place. The twenty-meter lanyard trailing behind it pulled taut
and a small armored figure emerged from out of the dense underbrush. Fett
calmly waited for the winch in his armored suit to elevate him up to the
walker's stomach.
The hunter used the time to power up his wrist lasers.
Byrga's ramblings continued. The one good thing about that, at least for
the rest of the command crew, was when his mouth was running there was a
cessation of lip - smacking. "Make me proud, men. I want to be the one who
finds this bounty hunter."
The Lieutenant abruptly cocked his head to one side. "Did anyone else
hear that?"
The drivers shook their heads.
Byrga turned toward the dark tunnel leading back into the walker's
passenger compartment. "That's strange. We're not carrying any troops." He
activated the blast door and peered inside. After a moment's decision he
placed one hand on his bolstered blaster and slowly walked into the AT-AT'S
neck. "I'll be right back, men. Carry on without me for a moment."
The drivers happily complied.
"I want all communications back on-line!" Frustrated, Xarran screamed
into the internal comlink, "Immediately!"
Commander Tyrix sighed and gritted his teeth. "Uh, sir... the blackout is
affecting the comm as well." His voice lowered to almost a whisper. "The
engineering teams can't hear you."
The General was at Tyrix's console in three strides.
Xarran's face was so close the Commander could count the veins bulging in
the man's forehead.
Xarran spoke through gritted teeth, the words slow and precise. "Then get
down there and tell them."
"Yes, sir!" Tyrix said as he dove into the nearest turbolift.
The AT-AT drivers were so entranced by the wonderful silence in the
cockpit they didn't even notice the unusually long absence of their commanding
officer. That was their first mistake. When the blast door finally slid open
again they didn't even bother to look up from their consoles. As it turned
out, that oversight was their last.
Boba Fett lowered his smoking blaster rifle and took a moment to admire
his new mode of transportation.
Lieutenant Grejj sat back in his command chair, finger rips steepled in
front of his face. The walker's command crew was doing a fine job considering
the circumstances. He only hoped they could get communications back online as
quickly as possible. Then they could eliminate the bounty hunter and resume
normal duties. Grejj liked his routine. He did not like surprises.
"Sir! We're picking something up on sensors." The Lieutenant leaned
forward. "What is it?" The driver shook his head. "Just another walker... must
be Lieutenant Byrga."
"Let's go see if his hunting has been more successful." "He must have
already seen us," the driver said. "Here they come now."
Grejj nodded, reaching for the cockpit release lever. "With any luck this
will be over soon."
As a matter of fact, it was.
The remains of Lieutenant Grejj's AT-AT and a pair of AT-STILL'S that had
stumbled onto the fight were scattered along the ground. The two smaller
walkers were so confused by the duel between their larger siblings that they
had actually opened fire on Grejj.
Fett guided his AT-AT through the smoking debris as his sensors picked up
a large grouping of storm troopers nearby. The hunter checked his chronometer
and noted that he was right on schedule.
"Communications have been restored, sir."
"Finally! Patch me through directly to our forces." Tyrix's fingers flew
over his console and he quickly signaled his success with a nod to the
General.
Xarran reached for his comlink. "Xarran to Alpha and Delta Groups. All
units are to report status immediately."
There was silence.
Rivo gave his brother a meaningful glance, but Xarran ignored him and
tried again. "I repeat, this is General Xarran ordering all units to account
current status. Alpha Group... report."
Nothing.
A bead of sweat trickled down the General's forehead. He leaned closer to
the mike. "Delta Group... report."
Again, there was not a sound.
Xarran stared accusingly at Tyrix. "You must have been in error
.
Commander. The comm system is still down."
"I regret to inform you, sir. It is functioning within normal parameters.
Our forces should be responding."
"Yet that is not the case." Xarran's voice had lost a bit of its hard
edge. "Why?"
Rivo answered with a plaintive wail. "Because they're all dead!"
Xarran spun around, viciously backhanding his brother across the face.
"Will you shut up!"
The unexpected blow sent Rivo crumpling to the deck, where he cringed,
holding up his hands in supplication. Xarran's face softened with regret
immediately. He helped Rivo up and said in a low whisper, "Forgive me,
brother..."
"Wait a minute!" Tyrix nearly jumped from his console. "General, sensors
are picking up one of our walkers at the outer perimeter."
Xarran beamed. "Put it on the viewscreen."
Tyrix complied and the image of a battle-scarred AT-AT filled the viewer.
"Returning in victory?" the Commander said.
"Let's find out." Xarran tried the comlink again. "Base to walker.
Report."
A gout of fire suddenly bloomed on the underbelly of the AT-AT followed
Tales From the New Republic Page 31