by K. W. Jeter
imaginations-when it was in the hands of a fool? An aging
one, at that, so obsessed with the Rebellion that he
would allow a greater danger to him walk the corridors of
his palace. He doesn't know, thought Xizor, keeping his
own face a mask as he gazed at the Emperor. Despite
having given himself over to the dark side of the Force,
Emperor Palpatine didn't suspect what was still hidden in
the shadows surrounding him.
"Go about your self-appointed business, Xizor." The
Emperor's hand made a dismissive gesture. "You plot and
work to bring about other creatures' destruction; this
pleases me. Knowing what I do about Boba Fett and the
members of the unfortunate Bounty Hunters Guild, it is a
process that I do not anticipate will take long to
achieve the desired results. Come and report to me again
when these sharper tools are ready to be delive red into
my grasp."
"As you wish, my lord." Xizor bowed, then turned. The
edge of his caped robes flared with that motion, the
thick rope of his bound hair swinging across the exposed
ridges of his vertebrae.
"I also will want to hear of your success." Lord
Vader's holo image spoke as Xizor strode from the
Emperor's throne room. "Or the lack thereof."
Xizor couldn't help smiling to himself as he left the
presence of the Emperor and his chief servant. There
would be successes, of that he was confident. But not the
kind they expected.
"I must warn you, my lord." The great doors to the
throne room had sealed shut once again, leaving Va-der in
private consultation with the Emperor. "Better you should
surround yourself with fools than one with such
ambitions."
"Your warning is acknowledged, Lord Vader." Emperor
Palpatine gave a knowing smile. "But it is hardly
necessary. Prince Xizor likes to keep secrets from me.
But I see more deeply into his heart than he realizes."
"Then let me eliminate him for you. And remove the
possibility of his treachery."
"And eliminate as well the value he has for me?" The
Emperor slowly shook his head. "He is a sharp-edged tool
in himself, Vader. He cuts through difficulties with
ease. This scheme he has initiated against the bounty
hunters-it is a stroke of genius. Even Boba Fett, as
smart as he is, will have little conception of what
forces have been brought against him." The thin smile
showed on the withered face again. "There is a great
satisfaction that comes from turning a sentient
creature's own strengths against him. Fett and the others
like him will soon find out just how that works."
Lord Vader's image was silent for a moment before
speaking, words softer than his rasping breath. "And
Prince Xizor?"
"His time will come as well," said the Emperor. "When
he will learn the same." He gave the same gesture of
dismissal with one hand, "Now go." The Emperor turned his
throne toward the stars, the vast reaches that extended
before him. "I have other things to contemplate."
11
The first quarters they gave him were hung with
silken brocades, the richly worked tapestries mirrored in
the floors inlaid with precious metals. "I don't think
so," said Boba Fett.
He prevailed upon Cradossk's majordomo, an obsequious
Twi'lek like the ones so often encountered in high-level
service positions, to move him to a more spartan
residence in the Guild compound. It didn't take much to
convince the nervously smiling and bowing creature to
accede to his wishes; merely stating them and turning the
threatening visage of his helmet toward the other was
enough.
"I hope you'll find this more to your liking." The
Twi'lek majordomo's name was Ob Fortuna; his head tails,
the bifurcated appendages that curved from his skull and
rested on his shoulders like overfed snakes, glistened
with a sheen of perspiration. He resembled a distant clan
member that Fett had seen in Jabba the Hutt's entourage.
The little space, an empty cubicle carved from the
planetoid's underlying rock strata, and the corridor
through which he'd led Boba Fett, was chill enough to
make his breath visible. The sweat was provoked by the
bounty hunter's presence. "If there's anything else you
require . . ."
"This will do fine." Boba Fett looked away from the
Twi'lek and scanned the bare stone walls. "Leave me."
"But of course." Bowing, the majordomo backed away
toward the rough-hewn door. "I await Your Fearsomeness's
commands."
"Fine. Do it at a distance." Boba Fett kicked the
bottom of the door to swing it shut. "That's all I need
from you right now."
He could hear the majordomo's steps running down the
corridor, the sounds fading away until the space was
silent except for a slow drip of water in one corner. A
native insect, bristling with antennae and eyestalks-a
miniature version of the council member that spoke in
nothing but questions-had been aroused by the presence of
humanoid body heat. It tried to escape as Boba Fett
reached over with his armor-gloved hand, but his
forefinger cracked the bug's chitinous shell and left the
tiny carcass smeared on the damp rock. Fett watched as a
swarm of smaller creatures scurried away. Vermin and cold
didn't bother him. He'd been in worse places.
This one had the advantage as well of being easily
scoured for other bugs, the kind that would report one's
words to Cradossk and his advisers. Fett hadn't even
found it necessary to do a scan on the first room to
which the Twi'lek had taken him, to know that the wall
hangings had been studded with microscopic listening and
observation devices. The old Trandoshan's welcoming
party, complete with drunk act, hadn't fooled him. They
know something's up, thought Fett. The Bounty Hunters
Guild had been a tougher organization in the past;
Cradossk hadn't become its leader by being a complete
idiot.
Fett hadn't survived on his own by being one, either.
Cradossk would doubtlessly have expected him to reject
the luxury quarters, and have an alternative already
prepared. An alternative that would meet Cradossk's
requirements. Boba Fett snapped on the scanning sweeps
mounted in his helmet; a precisely calibrated grid
snapped into view in the narrow visor.
What do we have here? Just as he'd expected turning
slowly on his boot heel, Fett saw the pulsing red spark
in the grid that indicated a miniaturized spy module. He
completed his scan, finding two more at varying heights
on the opposite stone wall. It would have been easy to
have extracted them from their niches and crushed them
between his fingertips, the way he had the living bug.
Instead, he took from one of his belt pouches a trio of
audio drones, already set by
him to reproduce the nearly
subliminal traces of his breath and other homeostatic
functions. He tapped the drones into place, directly on
top of the bugs. No other sound would get past them; a
signal in his gear would switch them off when he left the
space, producing perfect silence.
He didn't anticipate spending much time here; he'd
really only wanted to give Cradossk a chance to display
his hospitality. And subterfuge. Any sleep or meals that
Boba Fett required, he would take aboard the Slave I,
safely docked and secured at the edge of the Guild's main
compound. I've got enough enemies here, he'd decided.
There was no sense in making it any easier for them to
get at him.
Though if they wanted to talk with him, face-to-
face-this dank little room was sufficient for that.
Just as he'd anticipated, he didn't have long to
wait. A knock sounded on the splintered planks of the
door, then the rusting hinges bolted into the stone
creaked as a hand with claws and scales pushed it open.
"So we are to be brothers." Bossk stood in the
doorway, his slit-pupiled eyes showing both resentment
and a primitive guile. "How pleasant that shall be for
both of us."
Boba Fett looked over his shoulder at the younger
Trandoshan. "That matters little to me. I take my
pleasure in my work. And in getting paid for it."
"You're famous for that." Bossk entered the space,
his wavering shadow cast ahead by the torches mounted
along the corridor. He sat down heavily on the bench
carved out of one wall. "I'd find my pleasures the same
way-if it weren't for you."
"You speak of the past." Fett stood in the center of
the damp stone floor, his arms folded across his chest.
"Have you forgotten already what your father said?" The
banquet had still been in progress as the Twi'lek
majordomo had led Boba Fett to his quarters. "A new time
has begun for us. For all bounty hunters."
"Ah, yes; my father." Shaking his head in disgust,
Bossk leaned back against the wall. "My father speaks of
great and noble things; he always has. It's one of the
reasons I despise him. The day will come when I sharpen
my teeth on the shards of his bones."
"Family matters don't interest me." Boba Fett
shrugged. It had been obvious to him for a long time
before this why Trandoshans were not a numerous species.
"Deal with the old creature as you feel best. If you
think you're capable of it."
A low growl sounded from deep within Bossk's throat.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing into slits as he
focused on some personal vision. "Someday..." He nodded
slowly. "When the Guild is mine . . ."
Fool, thought Boba Fett. The Trandoshan had no idea
of the machinery in which he was already caught, the
gears grinding out a different future than the one of
which he dreamed.
"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Bossk looked
up at him. "Why you've come all this way to join the
Bounty Hunters Guild." One clawed hand pulled a small box
that had been dangling from one of his chest straps; he
flicked open the hinged lid and dug out a wriggling
morsel. "Want one?" Bossk held the container out on his
scaly palm.
Boba Fett shook his head. The little box's contents
were identical to the insect he'd crushed against the
stone wall. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't fool me." Bossk grinned as he refastened
the box to the strap. "As I said before-you might fool a
senile old lizard like my father, but you can't do the
same with me. I know exactly why you came here."
"And why would that be?"
"It's simple." Bossk cracked the insect between his
f ront fangs, then swallowed the two oozing pieces.
"You're aware of how old Cradossk is. You'd have to know;
you had enough encounters with him in the past, before I
was even spawned. His time has to come to an end,
eventually. And then the leadership of the Guild will
pass to me. That's already been decided. There's no one
on the council that's any younger than my father; some of
them are old enough to have cobwebs growing between their
claws. They'll be glad to have me take over."
"You might be right about that." Fett had heard of
other possibilities. There were other bounty hunters in
the Guild who were as young and hungry as Bossk. The
leadership of the Guild wouldn't be handed down without
some kind of a struggle.
"Of course I'm right." With the point of one claw,
Bossk extracted a fragment of bug shell from between his
fangs. "And you're the proof of it."
"How do you figure that?"
"Come on; let's face it. We've both been around the
galaxy a few times. Maybe I don't have the same amount of
experience that you do, but I'm a fast learner." Seated
on the stone bench, Bossk smiled with cozy familiarity at
Boba Fett. "You'll be glad you've met up with me like
this, rather than both of us scrabbling over some minor
bounty. There's big credits to be made here; bigger than
my father and his dried-up old cronies ever dreamed of.
You know that, don't you?"
Fett didn't bother to indicate yes or no. "I'm always
on the lookout for a profitable arrangement."
"That's what makes you the kind of mean barve I
really like." Bossk's carnivorous grin widened. "My
father was right about one thing You and I, we really
are like brothers. We should get along just fine, given
the changes that are going to happen around here." He
leaned back against the stone wall. "Like you said-we
have to change with the times. We just have to make sure
the changes go our way, huh?"
The assembler knew what it was talking about, thought
Boba Fett. He had to give Kud'ar Mub'at credit for the
accurate assessment of how things would go here at the
Bounty Hunters Guild. Fett had been here for less than a
standard time part, and already the pieces were falling
into place. Better than that leaping into place. The son
of the Guild's leader was volunteering to take his place
in the scheme that would tear apart the organization.
"You're a clever creature." Boba Fett gave a slow nod
of acknowledgment. "Very clever."
"Smart enough to figure out what you're up to, pal."
The slit-pupiled eyes regarded Fett with satisfaction.
"You're famous for a lot of things. One of them is that
you've always been a lone operator. You've never worked
with a partner, even in the worst situations."
"I've never had to," replied Fett. "I can take care
of myself."
"Yeah, and you still can. Like I said-you're not
fooling me. All that talk back there in the banquet hall,
about the Empire squeezing us out-what a crock of nerf
waste. The only reason you got my father and the rest of
them to go for that line is because they wante
d to
believe it. They're old and tired, and they're looking
for an excuse to roll over and quit. But I'm not buying
it. Things don't change like that. I've seen enough of
the Empire to know that there's always going to be some
use for bounty hunters. There's stuff we can do that
nobody else can."
"An astute observation."
"One that you've made as well, I bet." Bossk dug at
his fangs again, then inspected the tips of his claws.
"If anything, there's going to be more business for us
with Emperor Palpatine than there ever was under the
Republic. There'll be all sorts of creatures that the
Emperor wants to get his hands on, who don't Want to be
found. That's where bounty hunters come in. Plus the
Rebellion-they got their needs, too. That's the great
thing about being on neither one side nor the other. We
can sell our services to anyone who can pay our price.
And there's going to be a lot of buyers."
This Trandoshan also deserved credit, Boba Fett had
to admit. Bossk might be a fool, and a particularly crass
and bloodthirsty one, but he was sharp enough to discern
at least one important thing about the nature of evil.
Which was that it always bred more of the same. More
business for us, thought Fett. He felt no emotion about
that, one way or the other.
"It's a simple matter, then, isn't it?" Boba Fett
spoke his next thoughts aloud. "Of just making sure we
get paid the price we want."
"You got that right. And that's why you came walking
in here and asked to become a member of the Bounty
Hunters Guild, isn't it? Not because things are changing
out there"-Bossk waved his clawed and scaled hand,
indicating the reaches beyond the mold-encrusted stone
ceiling-"but because the Guild is changing. Or it's just
about to. You've had it pretty easy for a long time,
haven't you? Even when my father still had sharp fangs,
he was never your equal in the bounty-hunter trade. None
of those old creatures were. And as they got older all
they really managed to do was get in the way of me and
the other young hunters-the ones who would've given you a
run for your credits, Fett. So you've really had the
field all to yourself, haven't you? Must've been nice."
Fett gave a small shrug. "It hasn't been exactly
easy."
"Yeah, but it would've been a lot harder if you'd had
to deal with me." Bossk's eyes flashed angry fire as he