But the female had already darted back to the cockpit's hatchway. Neelah raised the blaster pistol that she had managed to lift from its holster at Boba Fett's waist. Holding the weapon in both hands, she aimed it directly at the center of Fett's dark-visored helmet.
"I wasn't joking," said Neelah. The thin smile at the corner of her mouth was a grim indicator of her intent." When I said I'd like to crack your head open. I wonder. . . just how many bolts from this thing do you think it'll take?"
Boba Fett leaned back in the pilot's chair." Congratulations," he said. He had stowed most of his weaponry for safekeeping, to avoid the various pieces of his portable arsenal from interfering with his activities in the cockpit. The small blaster pistol had been the only weapon he had kept with him. He gestured toward it, as it stayed unwavering in Neelah's grasp." Not many creatures have pulled off a trick like that. Getting the drop on me is a pretty rare occurrence."
A sneer twisted the corner of Neelah's mouth." It was easy."
He had to admit that she had gotten the weapon away from him with a surprising show of deftness. Or perhaps not so surprising; with what he knew of her background, her identity before she had wound up as a memory-wiped dancing girl in Jabba the Hutt's palace, skills like this were more common than not. She was far more than a mere child of aristocracy; if he failed to remember that, it was at his own peril.
"Perhaps so," said Boba Fett." That doesn't mean it was a good idea. You may have some pretty fast moves, but trust me-they're nothing compared to mine. Before you could press the firing stud on that piece, I'd be out of this chair, and my forearm would be against your throat. And after that, things would get even more unpleasant for you."
"I'm willing to risk it." Neelah shrugged." What have I got to lose? You're not telling me what I want to know. What I need to know. At least this way, if I get off one good shot, I'll have the satisfaction of getting a good reason for you clamming up on me. Think of it this way: being dead is the perfect excuse."
Boba Fett had already calculated the precise distance between himself and the female, the exact angle, speed, and direction of the moves necessary to get the weapon away from her. He could do it without even getting winged by the one blaster bolt she would be able to fire in that microsecond interval. Better, he told himself, if I don't have to do that. For one simple reason: a wild shot inside the confines of the ship's cockpit could have some serious consequences. Even now, the Hound's Tooth wasn't in the operational shape he would have preferred; its previous owner's sloppiness had seen to that. He would be able to repair any structural damage the bolt would cause-the weapon didn't have enough power to pierce the hull-but if it took out any of the control panel, tracing and patching the unfamiliar circuits would take time. And time was a commodity that was in short supply at the moment. There was business to take care of, a long way from here.
"I've been close enough to dead," said Boba Fett," that I'm not eager to repeat the experience."
Neelah raised the blaster a little higher, sighting
over its barrel at her target." Then you better start talking."
"No-" Boba Fett gave a single shake of his head." I don't think so."
"What?" The female's brow creased." What do you mean?"
"It's simple." Boba Fett gestured toward her." You've got as much to lose as I have. Kill me, and you'll never find out what you want to know."
Tilting her head to one side, she peered closer at him." Maybe with you out of the way, I'll be able to find out the truth from someone else."
"Maybe." Boba Fett gave another shrug." But if you guess wrong about that-if I'm the only one that knows the score about who you really are-then you'll have knocked off the only person with the answers. Sure that's a risk you want to take?"
For a few seconds more, Neelah seemed to be considering her options. Then she lowered the blaster." I suppose not." Her angry expression hadn't faded." Looks like you talked your way out of this one."
"You'll thank me for it later." He held out his hand." I'll take the piece back, if you don't mind."
Neelah shook her head." I've still got a use for it."
He watched her as she turned in the hatchway. With the weapon at her side, she started back down the ladder to the ship's main hold.
At least, thought Fett, she knows what she wants. Getting it was the only problem.
He swung the pilot's chair back toward the controls. He had his own concerns to take care of.
A boot in his ribs woke Dengar up. He blinked, then came swiftly to full, startled consciousness as he
found himself looking into the business end of a blaster pistol.
"Time to start talking," said Neelah. She had the weapon aimed straight at his forehead." I want to hear the rest of the story."
10
"You gotta admit," said Bossk," it's a nice place for a meeting."
He enjoyed his own grim humor. Keeping the claws of one hand resting on the grip of his holstered blaster, Bossk watched as Boba Fett looked around the moldering crevices and dry cliff faces of the ancient sea trench. The oceans of Gholondreine-B had been sucked down to the last molecule of saline liquid, then transported by a fleet of massive Imperial freighters to an orbital catalysis plant near Coruscant. Economy hadn't been the motivating factor-it was more expensive to ship that amount of water than to synthesize it-but punishment had been. The coastal and inland democracies on the planet's land masses had been irritatingly slow, in the eyes of Emperor Palpatine, to divest themselves of the last vestiges of allegiance to the old Republic. Now, beneath the flat glare of cloud-purged skies, dust wound through the cracked and empty streets of the deserted cities. Neighboring worlds in this sector had received a valuable object lesson in how to respond to the Emperor's commands.
The shell of some long-dead marine animal crunched beneath Boba Fett's boot sole. His ship, Slave I, stood several meters away, the rounded dome of its cockpit transparisteel glinting in the angle of light that managed to penetrate the sea trench. The cleft in the planet's desiccated surface was deep enough that in less than a Standard Time Unit, it would be cast into near-total darkness. That was all right with Bossk; the business that he had to transact with his rival Boba Fett wouldn't take long.
"It's all right." Boba Fett had completed his visual survey of the site, in tandem with the various data readouts on one forearm of his Mandalorian battle armor. The indicator lights had gradually shifted from red to yellow, then finally to green as Slave I's multi-sensor threat-alert systems had finished scanning the area for hidden traps and ambush devices. Bossk had left his own ship in a lowered standby condition at the other end of the trench, so its onboard weaponry wouldn't trigger the other bounty hunter's suspicions." Though it's not quite as private as you might think," said Fett. One gloved hand pointed toward the surrounding cliffs, their crumbling faces towering above the humanoid figures below." I'm picking up signs of quite a few organic life-forms up there."
Bossk emitted a short, harsh laugh." I don't think we have to worry about them." He slung his blaster rifle from behind his back; bracing the weapon against his hip, he fired a maximum-power bolt into the cliff directly above where he and Boba Fett stood. The bolt shattered the dry stone, sending a rain of powdery white dust and shards down to the trench floor." Check it out," said Bossk. Using the toe of his own boot, he poked through the rubble. A hissing noise came from the needle-fanged mouth of a centipedelike creature, writhing and uncoiling to nearly a meter in length; its yellow eyes blazed with a ferocious malice