by neetha Napew
" They'd have to get very lucky for that to happen."
" It's a strange universe we live in," said Bossk." All kinds of things can happen. Who would've thought that the Rebel Alliance would have had any chance of taking out the Death Star? But one lucky shot, and that thing was so much molten scrap."
Bossk could see that his words were having an effect on Voss'on't. That last argument had been particularly well aimed; a military mind like Voss'on't's would naturally have had a lot of faith in the invincibility of a pile of weaponry like the Death Star battle station.
" So you need a little more," continued Bossk," than what you've already got set up. If you're going to stay alive and healthy, and out of the Emperor's hands. That's what I figure, at least." Once he had gotten started at this business of lying off the top of his head, it had turned out surprisingly easy. The words were coming faster and easier." You need all the help you can get-and that you can pay for." Bossk leaned back in his chair." That's where I come in."
" You?" Voss'on't gave a derisive snort." What can you do for me?"
" I can tell you just how any of those bounty hunters out there are going to make their moves- before they happen. I didn't spend all that time in the old Bounty Hunters Guild without learning all the tricks of the trade. And I know all those hunters; I know how their minds work." Bossk started to warm to the subject." You see, they all have their individual styles, their ways of working. Now, somebody like IG-88-that one's a droid-he's got sort of a cold, logical, precise way of setting out his strategies for
hunting down merchandise. Whereas the ones who take after my kind of tactics, they're a little more instinctive. You know? They kind of sniff out their prey. Whatever works, that's all. If one kind of bounty hunter can't catch you, then another kind will. Unless. . ." Bossk nodded slowly, with his own personal version of a wise smile." Unless you know what to anticipate from them."
" Ah. I see." Voss'on't looked at him with distaste." And that's what you're planning on selling to me, I take it. Your expertise on bounty hunters."
" You got it." Actually, now that Bossk had had a few more seconds to mull over what he had just said, it didn't seem like such a bad idea. Maybe, he thought, I should look into this. There were a few sentient creatures out in the galaxy who specialized in getting merchandise past whatever bounty hunters were looking for it, but that was basically a matter of running and dodging, making a delivery from one point to another. To actually go into business, though, as a sort of counter-bounty hunter, matching one's capacity for violence and intrigue against bounty hunters-that held a certain appeal for Bossk. For one thing, it struck him, there would undoubtedly be enough bloodshed to suit his tastes; bounty hunters weren't known for taking kindly to any other creature impinging on their operations. Plus the credits that could be made-that had a definite attraction for him." That's what I can deliver, all right." Bossk let his smile widen across his muzzle." For a price."
" A good price, I suppose."
Bossk shrugged." I'm worth it."
" I bet you are," said Voss'on't." But you're a business creature, right? You know how things are when it comes down to business. Everything's negotiable."
" Well. . . to a point."
" Because," continued the former stormtrooper," I have my own notions about what you're worth."
That didn't sound good to Bossk." Like what?"
" Like this." Voss'on't reached inside his jacket and pulled out a blaster pistol. In one quick, fluid motion, he had it pointed directly at Bossk's forehead." I think we have a deal."
All thought ceased, and Bossk went into pure reaction mode. With his hands flattened against the top of the table, and a blaster aimed at his skull, his options were limited.
But not totally-he threw his weight back in the chair, toppling it and himself with it. At the same time, Bossk thrust his legs straight, his clawed feet coming up hard against the table's underside. The table flew up, striking Voss'on't's weapon arm and throwing off his aim. As Bossk's spine struck the watering hole's littered floor, a sizzling bolt lanced through the empty air above him and struck the ceiling. Ashes and dust fell on Bossk as he quickly rolled onto his hands and feet, and dove toward the tables crowding the far side of the space.
That's what I get for being smart-Bossk's thinking processes rose in tandem with his self-disgust. Next time- Chairs flew clattering as his momentum knocked the watering hole's contents in all directions. Next time, I'll just reach over and pull somebody's head off.
Another bolt from Voss'on't's blaster pistol seared an inch above Bossk's scales. He rolled onto his shoulder, unholstering his own weapon and firing even before he had a chance to aim. The bottles of off-planet liquors, arranged in rows behind the watering hole's bar, shattered into wet splinters as the humanoid barkeeper dropped to the floor. Most of the other patrons, the molelike former employees of the mining
colony, had already scattered out of the way of the blaster fire, covering their heads with their shovel hands and hurriedly lumbering with an awkward, hunchbacked gait toward the worn steps leading up to the surface level, or crouching down behind overturned tables.
" Move over-" Bossk elbowed aside one of the miners. From across the chaotic, vacated space of the watering hole, Voss'on't's next shot hit the vertical tabletop shielding the pair of kneeling figures." Don't worry-he's not trying to get you." Bossk leaned around the edge of the table and laid down a quick barrage from his blaster, aimed well enough this time to force Voss'on't toward the arched opening of the watering hole's rear exit. Between his fire and the ex-stormtrooper's, most of the establishment's chairs and other contents had been reduced to singed and smoking rubble.
" Bounty hunter!" Voss'on't, hidden in the shadows at the edge of the watering hole, called out." If you think this is how you're going to get out of here alive, you're mistaken."
My mistake, thought Bossk bitterly, was coming here at all. Especially by himself-why he had ever agreed to Boba Fett's notion of splitting up was now beyond him. If they had double-teamed Voss'on't, as the original plan had been, they might have had a chance of taking him. Zuckuss's death now seemed needless; that should have aroused his suspicions right there. The only point to the present arrangement that he could see-and it was a realization not without irony-was that if Fett had been trying to eliminate him, so there would be a clear shot at taking Voss'on't solo and not having to split the bounty, that much at least had been accomplished.
" Tell you what, Voss'on't-" Bossk pressed his spine against the shield of the overturned table, one shoulder jammed against the silent form of the miner next to him. His shouted words bounced off the watering hole's ceiling." We could both walk out of here alive if that's the way you want it. That'd be an easy deal to make." Bossk kept the barrel of his blaster pistol pointed upward, the weapon's warmed metal almost touching the side of his head." But if I'm not leaving in one piece, then neither are you."
" Big talk, bounty hunter." The voice from the hidden Voss'on't drifted back, mockingly." It's easy to see that you never served in the Imperial forces. Bragging without being able to back it up is grounds for disciplinary action. You don't even know what you're facing, pal."
" As far as I can see," Bossk called back," you've got a blaster and I've got a blaster. And there's one of you and one of me here." He turned past the edge of the table and left off a bolt in the direction of the other's voice, then quickly scrambled back before Voss'on't could return fire." Considering how the Imperial stormtroopers usually make up in numbers what they lack in marksmanship-I'd say I've got the advantage."
A quick pair of bolts charred the rim of the table above Bossk's head, sending hot splinters across his shoulders." You're forgetting something, bounty hunter." The same sneering tinge as before sounded in Voss'on't's words." I may not have spent all the credits, but I spent enough of them. Enough to make sure there's plenty of surprises in store for someone like you."
" Yeah?" Bossk glanced at the weapon in his upr
aised hand, to be sure of its charge level. The indicator gauge showed that it held more than enough to disintegrate the entire structure of the watering hole, shot by shot, if necessary." Like what?"
" Like this."
Those words confused Bossk for a moment. They seemed to be from Trhin Voss'on't's mouth, but much closer, as if the ex-stormtrooper had managed to sneak up right next to him. He turned away from the edge of the table and toward the unemployed colonial miner. His glance was just in time to see one of the huge shovellike hands come swinging down toward his skull.
Bossk's blaster went spinning across the floor of the watering hole as his shoulder knocked the table upside-down. Stunned nearly unconscious, Bossk barely felt his arms flop loosely across the wreckage of the shattered chairs, their sharp-ended pieces caught underneath his spine. His vision was just clear enough, even though tinged with swirling red at its limits, to see both Trhin Voss'on't and the anonymous miner looming over him.
" You see?" Voss'on't smiled down cruelly at him. One hand held a blaster pointed down at Bossk. With the other hand, the ex-stormtrooper reached over and lifted a miniaturized comm device that dangled on a cord beneath the wrinkled, fungoid breathing filter that masked the miner's face. The eyes obscured by the heavy goggles, two round lenses beneath the heavy brow ridge of the helmetlike skull, gazed dully ahead as Voss'on't triggered a matching device in his own free hand." I spent the credits where they would do the most good." This time, Voss'on't's voice was picked up by a throat microphone, almost identical to the one Bossk had on, which then sounded from the tiny speaker of the device tethered to the hulking miner." There isn't a single creature in this colony that isn't on my payroll. They're all looking out for me. I like it that way." He switched off the throat mike, and his voice came unamplified from his own mouth once again." They're smart enough to work for me, but not to operate any kind of sophisticated communications gear, so I had to rig up a system that I could do a live transmit of my own voice; that way I could give them their orders personally. Plus it's great for little jokes like this one."
Upper-level stormtroopers had a reputation for gratuitous sadism; Bossk could see why now. He raised himself onto his elbows and gazed up sullenly at Voss'on't." So what are you going to do with me?"
" Same thing I did with the others that came around here." Voss'on't let the blaster dangle loosely in his hand." And that I'll do with all the others that think they're going to get rich from my hide." He motioned with the blaster to the miner standing across from him." Stand this fool up."
The two big shovellike hands slipped under Bossk's arms and brought him unsteadily to his feet; the effects of the earlier head blow hadn't completely faded away. Bossk managed to remain standing as the miner let go of him and stepped back a pace.
Now Bossk found himself looking directly into the muzzle of Voss'on't's upraised blaster.
" All right, bounty hunter." Voss'on't's ugly smile showed behind the weapon's barrel sight." Don't think I didn't give your little business proposition some serious thought. I did-but I'd already heard it from the last two bounty hunters that came through here." His thumb settled on the weapon's trigger stud." And I'd already decided that I didn't need their services, either."
" Wait a minute-" With his vision still blurred, Bossk spread his hands apart." We could still work something out-"
" We could," said Voss'on't." But since you're leaving us right now-for good-who exactly am I supposed to be dealing with?" His hand tightened on the blaster's grip, thumb beginning its pressure on the trigger.
" How about dealing with me?"
Bossk figured that the blow from the miner must have knocked something loose inside his head. Those last words hadn't come from either himself or from Voss'on't.
And he recognized the voice that had spoken them. It was Boba Fett.
Squinting, Bossk managed to bring his sight into focus, well enough to see Trhin Voss'on't holding up his throat mike unit and looking at its tiny speaker in puzzlement. Fett's voice had come from there." But that can't be," murmured Voss'on't." That would mean-"
" Exactly." One word, cold and emotionless-but not from Voss'on't's throat mike unit. Boba Fett's voice, unamplified and real, came from behind Bossk. He saw Voss'on't look past him in surprise, just as one of the miner's broad shovel hands pushed him aside. Stumbling, almost falling to the watering hole's floor, Bossk saw the miner's other hand separate into its tapering durasteel fingers, like a bouquet of ancient military sabers. The fingers, each of them nearly a half meter in length, seized upon Voss'on't's hand and forearm. A single bolt, from the blaster trapped inside the miner's massive fist, lit up the open seams of the metal. Then Voss'on't's scarred face distorted with pain and rage, as the miner's hand turned, twisting and nearly pulling Voss'on't's arm from its socket. Voss'on't crumpled on top of the broken chair debris that lay scattered across the floor.
" Here." Fett's voice spoke again as the miner's durasteel hand opened flat and held out the ex-stormtrooper's captured blaster." Don't let him move."
Bossk grabbed the blaster and kept it aimed at Voss'on't, sprawled out before him. From the corner of his slit-pupiled eye, he watched as the miner disguise was shed in pieces, revealing Boba Fett beneath it. The first to go were the shovellike hand attachments; they fell to the floor with a doubled clang. Boba Fett's own hands, in the gloves of his distinctive Mandalorian battle armor, next unfastened and discarded the large, hunchbacked mass that had covered his shoulders; that allowed him to stand up straight, with his usual traveling arsenal visible at his back. His helmet, with its T-shaped visor mask, became visible as Fett peeled off the wrinkled, mossy breathing filters and oversized protective goggles that had concealed his identity. The bony mass of the miner's overdeveloped cranial shell followed the rest of the disguise, the hollowed-out bits and pieces strewn across each other as the side-mounted antenna on Boba Fett's helmet swiveled back into its usual position.
" So what was all that about?" Bossk's normal Trandoshan disposition had reasserted itself; he felt more irritated than relieved as he looked at his partner in this operation." I thought you were still up above somewhere, out beyond the atmosphere, in Slave I."
" That's what I wanted our merchandise here to believe," said Boba Fett." I knew he'd be monitoring our communications. With the equipment he was able to outfit himself with, there would have been no chance of masking or encrypting our relay. So I recorded and synthesized a few audio signals, static and the like, to patch in with my communications to you; that way, Voss'on't believed the same thing you did, that I was safely out of the area. But in fact, I was here the whole time, disguised as one of the former colonial miners that he had put on his payroll."
" I get you." Bossk nodded in appreciation of the strategy." We needed to have him drop his defenses- and nothing does that like believing you've just bested one of your enemies." He knew the feeling, the glow that came with one of these victories over another sentient creature. The only thing better was the actual moment of a foe's death, when his carcass became a source for another grisly trophy in one's memory chamber." And you already paid off the other miners ?"
" Of course. I don't like bystanders interfering with my plans." Boba Fett's shoulders lifted in a slight shrug." And loyalty that's been purchased once is always the cheapest to buy again."
" Nice plan." A surge of resentment suddenly mounted inside Bossk." Except for one little thing- partner. You just about got me killed."
" Every plan has its risks." No apology was apparent in Boba Fett's voice." You knew that from the beginning."
" Sure-but how come I'm the one that winds up taking them all?"
" You have nothing to complain about," said Fett. He had unholstered his own blaster pistol and now used it to point down toward the former Imperial stormtrooper." We've got what we came here for."
" Think so?"
Another voice had spoken.
Bossk glanced quickly down at Voss'on't. The ex-stormtrooper's face
was streaked with blood, his brow slashed open by the shovellike hand that had knocked him sprawling. Through the trailing red web, his gaze was both furious and somehow triumphant. Before the Trandoshan or Boba Fett could stop him, Voss'on't had torn aside the sleeve of his jacket, revealing a small control pad strapped by two bands to his forearm. There was only a single button on the pad, which Voss'on't jabbed his index finger down upon.
The watering hole-bar, what was left of the tables and chairs, the walls and ceilings-came apart like so much cheap plastoid. Bossk found himself tumbling backward in air, clawed hands scrabbling to catch hold of anything in this suddenly erupting world. The planet's sulphurous daylight poured through the crumbling pieces of the structure whose close spaces had been encircled around him only a fraction of a second ago.
His spine slammed hard into a sheet of durasteel. The vibrations of immense heavy machinery were as tangible as a seismic catastrophe, rumbling through his flesh and setting his bones jangling against each other. Before Bossk could tell where he was, what machinery he had landed upon, the durasteel tilted out from under him. He barely managed to catch hold of a row of bolt heads, his claws digging into a seam in the metal. More debris from what was left of the bar rained across his shoulders as he held on. A glimpse toward the revealed horizon showed more and more of the terrain at the foot of the craggy mountains, and Bossk realized that the machinery to which he clung was surging upward.
