"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.
A voice sounded inside his head, from the cochlear implant." Don't try to jump," came Boba Fett's voice." These things will crush you like an insect."
Bossk pulled himself higher on the sloping metal flank, managing to get a better view of the grinding treads beneath him and the whirring cone at the machine's prow, studded with durasteel teeth. Each metal triangle was twice his own height, the total moving with a force capable of grinding his own ship Hound's Tooth to ragged shrapnel.
"What's going on?" Against the machinery's howling noise, Bossk shouted into his throat mike." What is this thing?"
"Autonomic crust-piercer." Fett's voice snapped back the answer." For deep-core mining operations-"
A shudder ran through the metal that Bossk's torso was pressed against. He clung with even more determination to the bolt heads and seam, aware that if he were to be shaken loose, he would slide straight into the massive, gear-driven treads only a few meters below him.
"Voss'on't must have wired it up," continued Boba Fett's voice," for one more defense system. With a doomsday button, in case anybody did manage to get the drop on him."
"Where are you?" Bossk scanned across the landscape far below; the buildings of the abandoned Imperial mining colony looked like mere rounded bumps set into the barren, rocky ground. He could see a few figures of miners running on foot, trying to get out from beneath the shadow of the uprearing machine.
"Don't worry about me-"
"I'm not-" If Boba Fett's voice hadn't been implanted right inside his head, Bossk wouldn't have been able to hear him past the roar and howl of the crust-piercer.
"I managed to hit the ground," came Fett's voice." Voss'on't has to be around here somewhere."