The B-supervisor had stepped back into the ranks of the others filling the shed. At the front of them was the a-foreman of the Kuat Drive Yards' construction docks, as before. "Are there further instructions," said the a-foreman, "that you wished to give us?"
"No ..." Kuat of Kuat brought himself back from his deep musing. "Proceed with the plans as I've outlined them. Let me know when we've reached operational stage, and then await word from my offices before going any further."
"As you wish." The a-foreman turned back toward the others and made a single gesture with an upraised arm. "Let's get to work."
After the workers had filed out, Kuat remained by himself in the meeting shed for a while longer. He stood at the bank of transparisteel windows, looking out at the ships beneath the immense cranes but not really seeing them at all. In the distance, some of the bright points of light above the construction docks weren't stars, but the small, armed craft of the Rebel Alliance that had been assigned to keep an eye on whatever might happen to the new and valuable fleet waiting here. Those Rebel pi-lots were only doing their own duty; Kuat held no grudge against them. But he couldn't let them stop him from his own.
He was reluctant to return to his private quarters, and to the ongoing confrontation with the various conspira-cies encircling Kuat Drive Yards. This conference with the various supervisors from the construction docks had been a momentary break from all those pressures, and one that had been, he knew, somewhat unnecessary. He could have been sure of his followers' loyalty with-out having to come here in person; some of them had already routed memos to his offices assuring him of that much.
One takes one's pleasures, mused Kuat of Kuat, where one can find them. Given what he knew about the dark forces moving among the stars, and what he would have to do to keep Kuat Drive Yards from falling into their hands, there were not many pleasures left to him.
Or time left to enjoy them...
"We'll soon be out of range," said one of the Kuat Drive Yards' security personnel, "if we wish to contact head-quarters and inquire as to any changes in our orders."
Kodir of Kuhlvult, the head of security for the corpo-ration, stood in the command bridge of the cruiser, with her hands clasped in the small of her back. Past the staff manning the cruiser's flight and weaponry controls, the cruiser's forward viewport was visible. Locked in that center of the star-filled image was a brighter flare, that of the main thruster engines of the ship known as the Hound's Tooth. The distance to that target had re-mained stable for the last several minutes. Stable—and tantalizingly just beyond range of the KDY cruiser's laser cannons.
"There's no need to contact Kuat, if that's what you mean." Kodir was aware that some of the members of Kuat Drive Yards' security division had yet to accept her leadership as a fact, and her decisions as final. "He's au-thorized me to act as I see fit in this matter."
Her words, crisply spoken, had an interesting effect on the underling, drawing his spine up straighter and stiffen "Kuat did more than just 'authorize' your ac-tions," he replied in measured tones. "He gave all of us the same orders, that we were to fire upon and destroy the ship bearing Boba Fett at the earliest opportunity."
"So he did." Kodir didn't turn toward the man, but remained gazing toward the viewport. "Your point?"
"My point is that we had our weapons systems locked on this ship that we are presently following back when it left the sector at which we first intercepted it. We could have eliminated it at that time, if you hadn't directly or-dered our crew to hold their fire."
Kodir glanced toward the man standing beside her. "Are you questioning my decision?"
"I fail to see how that decision corresponds with the orders and the mission that were given to us by Kuat of Kuat. His authority outranks yours, whether he is physi-cally present or not; he is, after all, the head of the Kuat Drive Yards, and we all serve under that command."
"Very well put," replied Kodir. "When I require a lec-ture on the theory and practice of corporate structure, I'll be sure to remember that you seem to be unusually well versed on the subject. In the meantime, my orders as head of the security division remain as before. We will continue pursuing this ship bearing Boba Fett, and we will forgo contacting Kuat of Kuat at the corporation's headquarters. Is that clear?"
"Absolutely clear." The man's eyes narrowed to slits as he regarded her. "It is my duty, when we return to Kuat Drive Yards, to make a full report to Kuat regard-ing your conduct in this regard."
"That's your decision." She smiled thinly at the man. "But I assure you, the head of the corporation places a great deal of trust in me. That's how I became your superior. If there's anything that you think you might be able to say that would alter Kuat's trust, you're more than free to speak up about it. But be pre-pared for the consequences, if Kuat doesn't agree with you."
The underling remained silent, still glaring at her.
"Now that we understand each other," continued Kodir, "you may return to your other duties. As I'll return to mine."
With a curt nod the underling turned and strode away.
Several other faces on the bridge had swiveled in her direction, watching and listening to the brief altercation. Kodir gestured with one hand. "Carry on," she said. "Un-less, that is, any of you wish to question my command?"
A moment passed, then the security staff returned to their various tasks.
Kodir gazed past the heads bent over the gauges and display screens. Soon, she told herself. A mere matter of time...
"You know, I'm beginning to think you're just plain bad luck." N'dru Suhlak glanced over his shoulder at the fig-ure behind him in the Headhunter's cockpit. "Whether I'm going up against you, or whether we're supposed to be on the same side—there's just evil stuff that happens to me when you're around."
"What's the problem?" Boba Fett grasped the back of the pilot's chair Suhlak sat in and pulled himself for-ward, the better to see what was up ahead of the small craft. "I thought we had just about reached Tatooine."
"Sure—dead ahead." Suhlak pointed to the forward viewport. In the distance was the buff-colored orb, with little of its surface obscured by cloud cover beneath the radiance of twin suns. "Plus, I thought we'd already got-ten past the worst we were going to encounter along the way. Without having to get into any running dogfights— I'd much rather sneak past anyone trying to stop me, in-stead of having to shoot my way through." He shook his head. "I don't think we're going to be able to do that with this customer."
"You've spotted someone?"
"Correction—someone's spotted us." A red dot of light was pulsing on the control panel; Suhlak pointed to it. "I can't see him yet, but whoever it is, he's definitely got some kind of multifrequency scanning and lock-on device. It's got real distance capability, too. None of my detect systems can even get a fix on his location; the sig-nal that got bounced off us was less than a nanosecond in duration, and that's way too small to calculate off of."
The cockpit area of the Headhunter had been exten-sively modified, bubbled out to add a larger carrying capacity for Suhlak's paying passengers. But the space was still cramped enough that all Boba Fett would have had to do was turn away from the pilot's chair in order to place his hands against the curved bulkhead, as though he might have been able to sense the approaching preda-tor in that way.
On the cockpit panel, the red light began pulsing faster, at an accelerating clip. "I take it," said Boba Fett, "that we're picking up more of this unknown indi-vidual's scanning signals?"