Slave Ship (star wars) Page 2

  Just my luck. Neelah kept her own face expressionless as she watched Fett maneuvering the ship.

  Her own fate had become bound up with one of the hardest creatures in the universe, the least likely to be swayed by threats or violence . . . or seduction. In some ways, she had been better off when she had still been in Jabba's palace, as one of the late Hutt's troupe of dancing girls. At least then she had known that her youth and beauty, and Jabba's taste for those enticing and precious qualities, would keep her alive. For a while, or until Jabba had grown either jaded with her dark-eyed looks or stimulated by the thought of tossing her to his pet rancor, the way he had done with that poor little Twi'lek Oola. She closed her eyes, barely able to suppress the shudder evoked by the memory of the girl's screams, the rancor's grunting snarl, and Jabba's slobbering delight at what had happened in the bone-littered pit in front of his throne. Whoever the ones that had finally bested Jabba the Hutt were-Dengar had told her names, Luke Skywalker and a Princess Leia Organa, that meant nothing to her-they had done a good job in ridding the universe of that massive, loathsome slug. Neelah supposed it would be asking a lot to have expected them or anyone else to have also restored her past to her, the darkly shadowed memories of who she had been and all that had happened to her before she had found herself in Jabba's palace.

  It would be a lot to expect from Boba Fett as well. The bounty hunter trade was concerned with only one thing, delivering their precious bits of hard merchandise to the highest bidder. If that merchandise had thoughts and fears and hopes, or whether all that went to make up the merchandise's spirit had been scoured away by a deep-level memory wipe-that didn't matter. If Boba Fett was keeping her alive-he had in fact pulled Neelah out of their attackers' line of fire and aboard Slave I just seconds before it had taken off-then she had to assume it was being done on a bounty hunter's agenda, and not out of any concern for her welfare. That's what I've got to figure out, Neelah reminded herself. What's in it for him. Before anything else; more than her own survival depended upon the answer to that question. She knew that it was undoubtedly the key to unlocking all the other mysteries, all the way back to her own true name.

  Another voice broke into her brooding thoughts.

  "You still didn't tell us," said Dengar," why you let that Bossk creature get away."

  Boba Fett glanced over his shoulder at the bounty hunter standing in the cockpit's hatchway." You know his name?"

  "Of course." Dengar pointed to one of the data-screens beneath Slave I's forward viewport." I recognized the ID profile that came up when we were approaching his ship. Last I heard, the Hound's Tooth is still Bossk's ship."

  "Correction," said Fett." It was his ship."

  "You're going to blow it up?" Dengar grimaced and slowly shook his head." I don't know if that's such a good idea. I've had a few run-ins with Bossk before, and he can be a pretty ugly customer."

  "That goes without saying." Neelah had stayed aboard Slave I, watching as Dengar had operated the transfer-port controls between the two ships. From the port's remote view-cam, she had caught a glimpse of Bossk as he had sprinted away from the apparition of his supposedly dead enemy, suddenly materialized aboard the Hound. She had even gotten a measure of grim amusement from witnessing the Trandoshan's panic. But she had also recognized his scaly, fang-mouthed image from her time at Jabba's palace. Bossk had been one of the many lowlifes and dealers in profitable violence that had drifted in and out of the late Hurt's employ. Every time Neelah had spotted him, a sick chill had set into her gut; the reptilian gaze that he directed toward her and the other dancing girls spoke silently of appetites that would leave welters of blood and splintered bones as signs of their fulfillment.

  "I've had much more experience with Bossk than you have." Boba Fett's voice remained level and unperturbed." He and I go back a long way. And believe me, I'm not concerned about any retribution at his hands."

  "Fine for you," grumbled Dengar." Maybe you can take care of him. I'm just worried about what happens when he comes after me. That guy isn't exactly known for being able to forgive and forget. He wakes up ready to bite other creatures' heads off."

  "I can take care of him; I've done so in the past." A note of amusement sounded in Boba Fett's voice." So as long as you stick with me-as long as we keep going with this partnership that we've agreed uponthen you don't really have anything to worry about at all, do you?"

  The expression on Dengar's face indicated to Neelah that the end of the bounty hunter's worries was still far away.

  She had to admit, though, that Boba Fett's claims seemed factual and not just boasting. He had been way ahead of Bossk, even as soon as they had all climbed aboard Slave I and sealed the entry hatch." This ship is going to blow," Fett had announced." Somebody's shoved a load of explosives aboard it."

  "What?" Standing in the cargo hold, Dengar had gaped at the other bounty hunter." How do you know that?"

  Boba Fett had tapped the side of his helmet as he explained." I've got an alarm relay, straight from the security systems I wired into the ship's perimeter web. Nobody gets in and out of Slave I, even when it's on autonomic standby, without my getting the details. The ship's computer has already done a spectrum read on the trade molecules in the air; there's some sloppy-but effective-high-thermal explosives somewhere around us, with a remote trigger charge attached."

  It hadn't taken long to find the explosives: Slave I's detector circuits had already done a preliminary search through the entire ship, narrowing the possible site of an unauthorized mass to somewhere behind the main holding cage. Boba Fett had quickly located the explosives, extracted them, and stuffed them aboard a cargo module. Neelah held a worklight up above her head, directing its beam into the space between the bulkhead's durasteel ribs, as Boba Fett and Dengar had unwedged the bulky object and dragged it out to the center of the compartment's floor.

  Before jettisoning the module, Boba Fett had wired into its power circuits a small device that he had brought down from the cockpit area.

  "What's that?" Neelah had pointed to the device.

  "An ID overlay transmitter," Fett had replied as he'd closed the cargo module's hatch and stood up." Programmed with Slave I's identification codes. Strictly short range, and without the hard-encryption levels that would get it past a real ID inquiry. But it should be enough to fool-for just long enough-the uninvited guest who left this little package here."

  The rest had been easy. Once the cargo module had shot out from Slave I, its navigation circuits had sent it homing toward the other ship lying in wait. Boba Fett had cut his own ship's thruster engines, holding back and keeping directly behind the cargo module,

  still traveling forward. The explosion, when Bossk had pushed the button, had given enough cover for Boba Fett to hit the thrusters with full power and come swooping up alongside the Hound's Tooth. He had been inside the other bounty hunter's ship, with his own surprises ready to go, before Bossk knew what was happening.

  All of that fast strategizing had been easy enough for Neelah to follow. That was then, though; this was now." I still don't understand," she said aloud," why you didn't kill that Bossk or whatever his name is, instead of just throwing a scare into him like that."

  "It's simple." Boba Fett didn't look over at her, but continued making adjustments to Slave I's navigation coordinates." Right now, the whole universe believes I'm dead. Or at least those parts of it that concern themselves with the fate of bounty hunters."

  "That's true," said Dengar." When I went into Mos Eisley, the story about you falling down the Sarlacc's throat was all over the spaceport."

  "I anticipated that would be the case." Fett punched in a few more numbers." Sometimes it can be a productive situation to be dead. Or at least to have creatures think you are."

  "So you let Bossk get away? After he saw that you're still alive?" Neelah couldn't fathom what she was hearing." Doesn't that defeat the whole purpose of this little charade? Once he makes his way into Mos Eisley, he'll blab the t
ruth to everyone who'll listen to him."

  "No, he won't." Boba Fett gave a single shake of his helmeted head." You are not experienced with basic Trandoshan psychology. They are an egotistical species; the only creature worse in that regard is a Hutt. But then Hutts have more reason to be; they're considerably smarter than Trandoshans. Bossk is at least intelligent enough to realize that he benefits from a universe-wide belief in my death. With my absence from the scene, many will regard him as being the number-one bounty hunter still working the trade. Merchandise to be located and secured will come his way, and there are the benefits to the ego as well; those have always been a bigger motivation to him. If it's not credits in my pocket, I'm not interested in it."

  Obviously, thought Neelah. She decided to keep her mouth shut, at least this time.

  "For Bossk, it is a matter of pride," continued Fett." He enjoys being fawned on and flattered; much of the animosity he bears me is due to his conviction that I somehow cheated him out of inheriting the leadership of the old Bounty Hunters Guild. That's a hard thing for him to forgive. He may hate my guts, but he's not going to relate any stories about my still being alive that make him look like a fool. When he gets to Mos Eisley, he's going to have a hard enough time telling the cantina habitues why he no longer has the Hound's Tooth; it's been his ship for a long time. He's not about to tell anyone that he got frightened out of it like a Biituian fen-hare."

  "Okay. . ." Dengar nodded slowly as he mulled it over, leaning his shoulder against the side of the cockpit hatchway." So you don't lose anything by letting Bossk go. But what do you gain out of it? That's worth having an enemy like that still aiming for you?"

  "Simple-I gain an effective mouthpiece for the story of my death. There may be isolated sectors of the universe that haven't yet heard of that unfortunate event; some creatures may be very interested to find out about it. At the same time, some of the things in my immediate plans might inadvertently give rise to speculation that I am still alive. Better that we should have Bossk in a gossip den such as Mos Eisley, with every scoundrel on the inhabited worlds passing through and listening in as he does his best to convince everyone of just how dead I am."

  Neelah was impressed, in spite of herself. He thinks of everything, she grudgingly admitted. It was no wonder that he had clawed his way to the top of the bounty hunter trade. The amount of bloodied corpses he had left behind himself must be equally impressive.

  "You forgot about one thing." A smug expression showed on Dengar's face." We're sitting, right now, aboard something that gives the whole game away. Slave I is known throughout the galaxy as being Boba Fett's ship; soon as other creatures spot it cruising into their systems, they're going to suspect-or they'll know-that you're alive. And up to your old trade again."

  "I'm glad to see that I don't have a fool for a partner." Any trace of sarcasm was filtered out of Boba Fett's voice.

  "So what are you going to do about it?" Neelah felt sure that the bounty hunter had already figured out the answer.

  "That is a simple matter as well." Boba Fett raised one of his gloved hands from the cockpit controls and gestured at the bulkheads surrounding them." Dengar is correct in his assessment that this ship reveals me to be still alive-but only if I'm actually in it. An abandoned Slave I reads out a considerably different message. If it's found drifting and empty, then most sentient creatures will make the logical assumption that I am in fact dead; the ship will confirm the stories they've already heard. For something as valuable to me as Slave I, the only way that it would fall from my grasp would be if I were no longer among the living. Or so most creatures will believe."

  Neelah gave a nod; it made sense to her." But you'll still need a ship," she pointed out." You can hardly walk from here to where you'll want to go."

  "How fortunate then that we have another ship available to us." With a simple gesture, Boba Fett indicated the cockpit's forward viewport. In the distance outside, framed by stars and the blackness of space, the Hound's Tooth floated." Granted, it does not have the capabilities of this one-no ship doesbut it'll suffice. Bossk was not such a failure at the bounty hunter trade that he didn't have the funds available to him to put together a decent enough system." Fett gave a slight shrug." With a few minor modifications, it should serve our own purposes well enough. Once its ID profile is broken out and overridden, with a new ID programmed in, the ship won't even be recognizable as Bossk's-so no one will catch the discrepancy that the Hound's original owner is somewhere back on Tatooine, while his ship is light-years away from there. That should provide us all the anonymity we require."

  "I suppose that explains why you didn't just blow up Bossk's ship, with him still aboard." One thing still puzzled Neelah, in addition to all the other mysteries that still existed." But why such a big need for secrecy?"

  "Yeah," chimed in Dengar." Your reputation is the biggest thing you've got going for you. There's a lot of creatures who'll just roll over and give up if they hear you're involved in something close to them. If you give all that up-if you give up your identity, your name-then you're starting from zero. Everything will have to be done the hard way, every time."

  Boba Fett swiveled the pilot's chair around from the controls; his helmeted gaze, hidden behind the

  dark, narrow visor, took in each of them in turn." You should consider yourselves unusually privileged," he said slowly," that I've explained as much as I have already. I'm not in the habit of justifying my methods to anyone. But now I have a partner, so that requires a certain forbearance on my part. And as for you" -he pointed to Neelah, then nodded, as though in deep contemplation-" I have no objection to your listening in to what passes between Dengar and myself. But harbor no illusions: I saved you, and brought you along with us, for a reason."

  Neelah glared back at him, feeling the anger inside her going up another notch." Which is?"

  "You'll find out soon enough. But for right now, you have value to me. Take comfort in that."

  Sure, she thought to herself. Right up until I don't have any value for you. Then what?

  That time might come at any moment. Neelah had already decided she would be ready for it, when it did arrive. Boba Fett might be the most dangerous bounty hunter in the galaxy-whether creatures believed he was dead or knew he was still alive-but if he thought she was just going to wait around for him to dispose of her in whatever way suited his plans. . .

  Then he had made a fatal mistake. Neelah kept her face a mask as expressionless as the one into which she gazed. She didn't know how she was going to bring about that little surprise for Boba Feet, but the hidden workings of her brain were already in motion.

  "And as for the need for secrecy. . ."

  For a moment she thought he had somehow peered into her mind and read out some part of what he had found in there. Then Neelah realized that he was still answering the question that Dengar had raised.

  "Some things are best accomplished in the dark." Boba Fett's voice had gone low and brooding as he turned back toward the cockpit's controls. In the forward viewport, the silent image of the Hound's Tooth loomed closer." There are many who wished me dead, and who tried their best to bring that about."

  That was true. The memory was still fresh in Neelah's mind, of how the Dune Sea on Tatooine had been pounded by the bombing raid, the fury of unknown forces-unknown to her-who sought to destroy Boba Fett, no matter what it took. Those forces were still out there, somewhere amid the stars.

  "Let's see how they like it. . ." Boba Fett's voice was a dark whisper now." When the dead return. . ."

  3

  The news had come a long way. From one side of the galaxy to the other; from the cold vacuum of space, just above one of the remotest backwater planets known to any sentient creature, to one of the Empire's brightest centers of power and wealth. And where power and wealth existed, there was also the irreducible, unavoidable elements of intrigue, conspiracy, and deceit.

  "We live in a universe of lies," said Kuat of Kuat. One of his hand
s stroked the silken fur of the felinx cradled against his chest. The animal closed its eyes, content in its ignorance. Its master's words held no meaning for it. Lucky thing, thought Kuat." We breathe in lies and exhale treachery, as though they were an essential part of the atmosphere."

  "Sir?" Fenald, Kuat's head of security, stood next to him, close to the private reception area's great segmented viewscreens. From here, the construction docks and engineering facilities of Kuat Drive Yards could be seen, stretching out toward the range of stars spiraling in the limitless distance. Generations of the Kuat bloodline had first created, then transformed the corporation into the apotheosis of industrial production; at the fringes of Kuat Drive Yards, immense freighters disgorged the raw materials stripped from other star systems, all to be forged into the ships and weaponry of the Imperial Navy. Even as the multi-leveled disc of the corporation's physical plant slowly revolved on its axis, battle cruisers and destroyers bristled with yet-unfired armaments, the reinforced plates of the hulls welded onto the structural frames by articulated laser torches, the glare brighter than the depleted sun at the center of the former planet's orbit.

  He was aware of the security head's puzzlement; the remark had come after a long brooding silence. All of Kuat Drive Yards' high-level employees, the innermost circle of trusted-and well-paid-associates, knew better than to interrupt these deep meditations. But sometimes, it helped to speak one's thoughts aloud. To a trusted listener; the head of security's instinctive loyalty was reinforced with a munificent salary. Nothing spoken would go beyond this sanctum's walls, carefully screened and swept as they were for hidden listening devices.