Bossk's eyes squinted even narrower, signaling deep distrust. The scales of his brow tightened as the brain behind them scrabbled at the problem." So what was it, then?"
"Merely the waste disposal function here aboard my web." The Balancesheet-steered carapace slowly shook its head." How embarrassing to talk of such things, rude plumbing and all! But I have the same housekeeping dilemmas as any other vessel that moves through such empty space as that surrounding us. Some certain waste products must be jettisoned, and for hygiene's sake, it's best to expel them with sufficient velocity to leave the navigational zone around oneself free of-shall we say?-distasteful impediments." The carapace's triangular face, a replica of Kud'ar Mub'at's own, displayed a slight smile." Really, my dear Bossk, even the ships of Palpatine's Imperial Navy do very much the same thing."
"Oh. Yeah. . ." Bossk slowly nodded." I guess you're right."
Not really, thought Kud'ar Mub'at to itself. Though the assembler admired the fabrication it had just heard the accountant subnode deliver, the truth was that the web completely recycled its constituent
matter. Kud'ar Mub'at had an instinctive aversion to letting go of any particle, no matter how small or insignificant, that had ever entered the web's living construct. To do so would have been like losing a piece of the assembler's own body. But, it admitted, as long as this Trandoshan is fooled, the truth hardly matters. . .
When Bossk had finally departed the web, the Hound's Tooth released from the docking subnodes a safe interval of time after the other ship's disembarking, Kud'ar Mub'at complimented its creation on the quick and sure handling of the bounty hunter's suspicions.
"Well done," said Kud'ar Mub'at. Secure in the embrace of its pneumatic nest, the assembler let the accountant subnode perch on the claw tip of one raised foreleg. In the distant and smaller chamber, the shed exoskeleton was once again a hollow likeness of the assembler's physical form." You handled the Trandoshan in a way to inspire pride amid the internal organs of your creator."
"Merely a matter of business." Balancesheet displayed no embarrassment at receiving such praise." If I show a facility in that regard, it is because all interactions between sentient creatures can be reduced to a matter of credits, expenditures, and debits." One of the accountant subnode's limbs traced the outline of a zero in the air." Sum and divide."
"And divide and conquer." Though, of course," conquest" was rhetoric a little grander than absolutely necessary. Kud'ar Mub'at was perfectly satisfied with a higher than average rate of profit." That's always the best advice."
Kud'ar Mub'at let the accountant subnode scuttle back into its usual resting place, deep in the internal corridors of the web. If the assembler wasn't careful, its rudimentary heart might soften once again toward the smaller replica of itself. Much had been accomplished with the subnode's assistance: the Trandoshan bounty hunter Bossk had gone away, convinced of the same thing that his opponent Gleed Otondon was, that Kud'ar Mub'at and all its devious scheming was allied to the interests of his fragment of the old Bounty Hunters Guild. Let them go on believing that, thought Kud'ar Mub'at. When they found out otherwise, it would be too late for them to do anything about it. Whether the True Guild or the Guild Reform Committee won their battle with each other, that mattered little. As long as Kud'ar Mub'at won. . .
The assembler folded its legs around itself, and meditated over what the next steps in its scheming should be.
6
"Here is the report, Your Excellency."
Slouched in the form-chair in his private quarters, Prince Xizor extended his hand and took the single sheet of flimsiplast that the bowing lackey offered to him. The lackey tucked the silver tray under his arm and withdrew, still bowing. The creature's existence was already banished from the Falleen prince's mind, even before the tall, ornately worked doors closed once more.
Xizor preferred solitude in moments such as this. Not so much to maintain secrecy-the throne room was surrounded by minions who were, out of fear or loyalty, as dedicated to the Black Sun organization as he was-but to have the course of his thoughts undisturbed by the clatter of other creatures' words. Those from different planets and genetics-they were for amusement or profit. Xizor had had ample reason to congratulate himself in the past, for having found ways of combining those goals. Falleen pheromones had a powerful effect on the female members of most of the galaxy's sentient species-and enough of those were sufficiently satisfying to Xizor's tastes that he could pleasure himself with these easy conquests. If at the same time, he could advance his own and Black Sun's agenda by overpowering a high-ranking female diplomat or envoy, either from the old Republic or this new upstart Rebel Alliance, then so much the better. But when everything he wished had been accomplished, the same cold smile would cross the sharp-edged angles of his face, the deep violet of his reptilian eyes vanishing behind mocking slits, as with a simple gesture of farewell he would make it clear that the female's desperate obsessions were no longer any concern of his. For a Falleen, sexual conquest was best savored in memory, like a trophy installed in the labyrinthian corridors fortressed inside his green-hued skull.
As cold-blooded as the reptilian Falleen physiology was, there actually was a hot-blooded element to their psyche. In this, the species was similar to the Trandoshans, however grossly ugly those creatures'
scaly and large-fanged appearance. By contrast to a Trandoshan, a Falleen such as Xizor exhibited a haughty, fine-boned elegance that was as much a factor in their legendary sexual prowess as the powerful pheromones exuded from their silk-grained skin. What the two species shared, though, was the speed with which their satiated appetites returned, as hungry as ever. For Trandoshans, hunger was centered in their gut; their brains, what there were of them, were servants to a basically primitive carnivore nature. To best an enemy was to eat him. We Falleens, thought Xizor, are a little more subtle than that. . .
The anticipation of his next pleasures would have to wait, there was more immediate business at hand. Words were already forming on the surface of the flimsiplast, darkening into legibility.
While a species characteristic, the exuded pheromones differed enough from one individual Falleen to the next that they could function as a coded trigger for security devices. The chemical reaction taking place in the fibers of the flimsi could only have been initiated by physical contact with Prince Xizor's fingertips. He raised the sheet in his hand, holding it at a comfortable distance from his gaze.
It was a report from one of his chief lieutenants in the Black Sun organization, the Kian'thar named Kreet'ah. Vigo Kreet'ah, to use the title of honor he had earned through his faithful service; always loyal, occasionally cunning, and often violent. Kreet'ah had some excellent sources of information planted throughout the galaxy; Kian'tharan family and liege relationships were so intricate-their reproductive processes required fertilized ova to be handed down through three generations of nonconsanguine affiliate clans before birth-that outsiders had little chance of sorting through all the levels of cousin and sibling status on the Kian'tharan home planet. At the same time, the entire species had deceptively honest faces, which made it easy for them to work their way into other sentient creatures' trust. As had more than one of Kreet'ah's sub-a kin, inside the various widespread financial institutions that serviced the galaxy's less-than-savory business enterprises. Those businesses included the arachnoid assembler Kud'ar Mub'at's activities as a go-between for bounty hunters and their clients. Kreet'ah's agents reported to him on a regular basis, about every significant piece of information that came past their multilensed eyes.