"True. . ." Kud'ar Mub'at's beadlike eyes glittered as their gaze darted around the area. Here, just as throughout the web, the structure's fibers were intertwined with various bits and pieces of machinery and high-level comm gear, all of it filched and salvaged from various spacecraft that had been unfortunate enough to have fallen into the assembler's control-usually to pay off the owner's debts, the invariable cost of doing business with such a clever and avaricious creature." I have so many pretty things. . . pretty and rare, and expensive as well. . ."
Idiot. Xizor didn't bother to conceal the sneer that showed on his face. Some of the scavenged gear in Kud'ar Mub'at's web worked-that was how the assembler managed to keep track of his many far-flung schemes on different worlds-but the rest were inert and useless. Useless, except to one of its solitary species; the assembler seemed to value the process of acquisition as much as the results. Constantly absorbing things, both dead and alive, into its network of self-generated neural fibers, making them as much a part of itself as the subnodes that it designed and extruded for its service-that was the sum of Kud'ar Mub'at's existence. Its complex schemes were woven for the same reason as the physical web that it squatted in, drifting past the stars and their circling worlds: because it had no other way of existing separate from the strands of that web and those schemes. It exuded both, the way other creatures breathed. Xizor glanced at the thickly matted strands near his shoulders; it struck him again that he was standing, almost literally, inside another creature's head, its thoughts having taken on an animated, tangible form. That realization filled him, as it always had before, with a subtle nausea.
"But," said Xizor aloud," there are so many more things you'd like to have. And that is why we're in business together."
"Exactly so, my dear Xizor." Kud'ar Mub'at's face split into a jagged grin." Forgive me for ever having doubted your so deeply held distrust and low opinion of me. Be assured: it's mutual."
"Then let's get down to it. Now that you've heard what I already know. There's hard merchandise on its way here. Boba Fett has captured Trhin Voss'on't."
"Did we anticipate anything else?" Kud'ar Mub'at imitated a humanoid shrug with the rising of a pair of forelimbs." Boba Fett never fails. That was why we made him an integral part of our plans. If Fett goes out after a bounty, he always collects. And a bounty such as the one that the Emperor offered for Voss'on't. . . well. . ." Another shrug, slightly less exaggerated." It was a certainty that he would go after it."
"As would every other bounty hunter in the galaxy," Xizor pointed out." That was the other part-the other predictable part-of the scheme. Even as we speak, the other bounty hunters-the few that are left of them-are still at each other's throats, back-stabbing and conspiring against one another. The news has not reached them yet that the inspiration for all their unbridled greed is already in the hands of Boba Fett. By the time the other bounty hunters learn that Trhin Voss'on't has been captured, it will be too late for them to escape the consequences of their actions. There are no longer two factions of bounty hunters-the True Guild and the Guild Reform Committee are finished. Avarice has the power to accomplish such things, to turn one creature against another, who a moment before had been calling themselves family." The savoring of that accomplished fact was like a rich, intoxicating liquor on Xizor's tongue. He had always despised the tendency of lesser creatures to form themselves into would-be protective groups, whether it was the old, vanished Bounty Hunters Guild or this new Rebel Alliance that was enjoying its brief moment in the sun." There was a time," continued Xizor," when these bounty hunters had considered themselves bound by their so-called 'Hunters' Creed, ' as if that little pact would have been enough to keep their enmity for each other in check. Well, that precious fiction is gone at last-and good riddance. There may be a few left who give it lip service, but the rest have discovered the truth about themselves and each other."
"Indeed they have." Kud'ar Mub'at nodded his triangular head in agreement." So excellent and fore-sighted was your scheme, my dear Xizor! I congratulate you on its success-not that it was ever in doubt, of course. Between you and Boba Fett, how could it have turned out otherwise?"
Xizor ignored the assembler's flattery. It was superfluous, at any rate; he had set out to destroy the old Bounty Hunters Guild, and had done so. Boba Fett had been no more than the tool in his hand, as sharply efficient as a sculptor's honed chisel. The first blow had been enough to divide the Guild into two rival factions; this final one had smashed those into their constituent atoms. There wouldn't be very many of those left alive, by the time the process had reached its end; bounty hunting was a ruthlessly competitive trade, one in which the best way to assure one's survival was to eliminate as many of the others in it before they had a chance to eliminate you. However stodgy and inefficient the old Guild had been, it had at least managed to hold down the level of mayhem among the individual bounty hunters. Now, without even the two remnant splinter organizations around, it was open season in the trade. The corpses were already starting to pile up. Of course, that was also to Prince Xizor's liking: only the toughest and most capable bounty hunters would survive such a winnowing-out of their numbers, and the skills of those would be even sharper and more enhanced by it. Perhaps there would never be another bounty hunter the equal of Boba Fett; so be it. But now there would be others, harder and more murderous in their quick, bright, lethal grace. They would be perfect, not just for the uses of Palpatine's Empire, but also for that of the darker empire that lay in its shadows, which was so fittingly known as the Black Sun.
"Yes," said Xizor, nodding slowly." It could have been no other way. Even if we had not made sure of the outcome ourselves."
The assembler emitted a harsh, cackling laugh that was taken up and echoed by the piping voices of the subnodes clustered around it." Poor Boba Fett!" Overcome by its hideous glee, Kud'ar Mub'at waved its forelimbs." Think of how much trouble he might
have saved for himself, if he had known that Trhin Voss'on't, the supposedly renegade stormtrooper, was acting on Palpatine's direct orders the whole time!"
As much as he admired Boba Fett, Xizor couldn't help feeling a certain pleasure at having hoodwinked the famous bounty hunter. And it had been accomplished just as Kud'ar Mub'at had said.
The whole thing had been a setup, and all the bounty hunters had fallen for it. Xizor knew that that had been a major part of the attraction for Emperor Palpatine-and why he had agreed to the subterfuge, as long as Xizor had put up the bounty stake from his own personal fortune. Far from being a renegade and a traitor, Trhin Voss'on't was actually one of the Emperor's most loyal soldiers; loyal enough-and obedient enough-that he had been willing to follow orders that resulted at least temporarily in the blackening of his reputation among the ranks of his fellow Imperial stormtroopers. And more than that: to fully establish his cover story of being a renegade, ruthlessly following his own personal agenda, the others involved in the hijacking of the Imperial ship had to be killed, and by Voss'on't's own hand. Those orders he had carried out with no hesitation as well. The stolen codes had been a minor issue compared to that; before the plan had even gotten under way, measures to eliminate the damage caused by the sale of the obsolete data had already been in place. Just as Xizor had anticipated, the final result of his preparations was a perfect enticement to the greed of the individual bounty hunters, and more than enough to dissolve the two remaining factions into which the old Guild had splintered.
That final collapse into every-creature-for-itself anarchy, the remnants of the old Bounty Hunters Guild disintegrating into nothing but memories, had been a result that Emperor Palpatine had been glad to hear of. Before coming here to Kud'ar Mub'at's drifting web, Xizor had had another meeting with the Emperor in his throne room on the planet Coruscant, and had received the Emperor's congratulations on a job well done. All the while, the holographic image of Lord Darth Vader had fumed in silence, unable to make any protest without risking either the Emperor's mockery or his wrath-or both. Xizor had savored the moment of triumph, even while aware that whatever enmity Vader had previously borne him, it was now multiplied many times over. The only thing worse than failing in a contest of wills between oneself and the Dark Lord of the Sith was to win out over him. Vader did not take the humiliation of defeat lightly.