Bossk cut short his mulling over of the situation." Now what happens?"
"It's been nice talking to you." Voss'on't spoke with a distinct lack of emotion." Just like I enjoyed talking to those other bounty hunters that came around here. Your type of scum is close enough to that of my former associates-the kind of work we do-that we had something to talk about. For a while, at least. It made for a little change of pace for me." He tilted his head in the direction of the hunchbacked, molelike miners at the watering hole's far tables, with their shovel hands folded around their drinks." I'm afraid these dirt-grubbers here aren't very stimulating conversationalists. So believe me-it's not without some real regret on my part that I'm going to have to kill you. Just to be on the safe side, you know."
"Yeah, right." Bossk felt seriously annoyed. He knew that things were going to get ugly, real quick-and Boba Fett still hadn't deigned to show up on the scene. Some partnership, groused Bossk to himself. For all he knew, Fett had succumbed to an attack of nerves-it had never happened before, as far as Bossk knew, but it wasn't impossible-and had decided not to tangle with the ex-stormtrooper at all. Fett's ship Slave I, with Fett in the cockpit, might be already hitting hyperspace, heading for remoter and safer planetfalls-and leaving Bossk sitting here, holding the bag. Typical, thought Bossk. Can't depend on anybody-unless they're dead. When he got the Bounty Hunters Guild up and running again, with himself at the top of it, he was going to make sure that he got the respect he had deserved for so long, and had never yet gotten. In the meantime, he was going to have to blow away a prime piece of hard merchandise-the biggest bounty ever posted, as far as Bossk could recall-just to keep from getting killed himself. And even that would take some doing. Unless. . .
An idea had struck him." Before you do that," said Bossk," could you tell me something? Did you spend all the credits?"
"What's it matter to you?"
"Well, the truth is that you've got me wrong." Bossk tapped his chest with a single claw." Sure, I know who you are and what kind of price has been put on your head. Everybody in the galaxy probably knows that by now. But I didn't come here to try and haul you in. Do I look like a complete idiot?"
Voss'on't peered suspiciously at him." Keep talking."
"Come on-" Bossk spread both his clawed hands apart." Let's face it. The bounty hunter trade isn't what it used to be. At least, not since the old Guild broke up. So creatures have got to find new ways of making a living. You're not the only scum who wants to survive. And I'm not such a fool that I'm likely to think I've got a chance of bringing in a former stormtrooper-especially one who's gotten himself set up the way you have." Using words like this was a new thing for Bossk; the process made him feel a little dizzy. Always before, he had solved problems and gotten out of sticky situations in the standard Trandoshan manner: enough violence to leave somebody dead on the floor. He had lied before-as recently as when he had talked Boba Fett into going in as partners with him on this job-but never at a moment's notice like this. Even though it had been part of the plan from the beginning, he still hadn't prepared himself for it. Bossk plugged ahead, regardless; he had no option otherwise." So. . . I figured, why not cut myself in on a good thing, just from a different angle?" The sheer recklessness of his words was having more of an intoxicating effect than the nauseating fluid in the stone mug could ever have had on him." There's more than one way to make some credits in this galaxy." He put his hands back down on the table and leaned closer to Voss'on't." Let's face it-there's going to be a lot of bounty hunters coming after you. The kind of price you've got on your head-it's guaranteed. And all it's going to take is for one of them to get lucky, and then you're not an ex-stormtrooper anymore. You'll be hard merchandise, on its way back to the Emperor."
"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.