[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(100)
“It’s served my purposes,” said Fett. “Well enough.”
Bossk raised one of his scaly eyebrows. “It’s not here with you, is it?” His voice lifted with hope. “I mean, here in the spaceport.”
“Of course not. I had to get here in something of a hurry. I didn’t have time to creep along in that pile of…” Fett paused for a moment. “That valuable relic.”
“Don’t start.” Bossk let his shoulders slump. “I just thought… that maybe I’d gotten it wrong from my information sources. That you’d been detected as being aboard N’dru Suhlak’s Headhunter.” Bossk tried turning his opponent’s verbal tactic around. “You know, that’s kind of a new low, even for you, Fett. Using a hunt saboteur to ferry you around. I never knew anybody in the old Bounty Hunters Guild who would’ve touched one with a gaffi stick, except to beat him to death with it.”
Boba Fett didn’t rise to the bait. “Circumstances, rather than desires, dictate my actions. That’s why I’m still a bounty hunter, and you’re not.”
“Don’t worry about that,” replied Bossk testily. “I’m going to be in the game again-and real soon. Aren’t I?” To be on the safe side, he tilted his head back and scanned the crowd in the cantina, trying to spot any creature with whom Fett might be working. The chances of that were slim-most of the other top-rank bounty hunters would have been out searching for Boba Fett instead, scheming on turning him into the kind of hard merchandise for which Kuat of Kuat had posted such an impressive price. And Fett himself, as Bossk knew from his own past experience, rarely took on partners; Bossk was still amazed at having heard of him being in league with a relative second-rater like Dengar. “That’s why you’re here. You’re going to make that all possible for me, huh? Even if you didn’t bring the Hound back with you, so you could return it to me.”
“You can have your ship back-when I’m done with it.” Boba Fett shrugged. “And if there’s anything left of it then.”
Bossk ignored the comment, as being just another of Fett’s infuriating verbal gambits. “Okay. So you came here to take care of some other business with me, right? Let’s see if we can make this mutually rewarding. Because it’s not going to happen unless it is.” Boss leaned across the table, letting his eyes narrow to slits. “How much you going to pay?”
“You’re mistaken.” The other bounty hunter gazed right back at him. “I wasn’t planning to ‘pay’ anything.”
“Plan again, pal.” Bossk grated out the words. “I’ve got what you want-what I found inside that cargo droid aboard your ship-and I’ve got a real good idea of what it’s worth. Because there are other creatures besides you looking for it, and they’re offering a nice high fee on delivery.”
“So why didn’t you sell it to them? From the looks of it, you could use the credits.”
“Because …” His fangs ground together, as though they had seized upon Boba Fett’s throat. “I figured I could get even more out of you. And even if I couldn’t get
more-even if I couldn’t get the same-I still wanted to get it out of your pockets. I wanted you to pay, Fett. Because I know that’s worse for you than if I killed you.”
“You’re right. I don’t find that prospect at all pleasant.” Boba Fett reached under the table. His hand came back up with a blaster pistol in it, which he pointed between Bossk’s eyes. “So why don’t you just hand the goods over to me, and that way I won’t have to kill you.”
“Are you crazy?” The sight of the weapon, hanging motionless right in his face, had frozen him as well. Glancing out of the corner of his sight, Bossk saw that all the mingled hubbub of conversations in the cantina had suddenly died, with every creature there turning and looking in the direction of the rear booth in which he and Boba Fett sat. “I thought you wanted to do business.”
“That’s what this is.” Boba Fett raised the weapon’s muzzle a fraction of an inch higher. “Consider it my final offer.”
The show was too good to ignore; the cantina’s other patrons had started buzzing and whispering, excitedly pointing out details of the confrontation to one another.
“You are crazy.” The blood in Bossk’s veins, never warmer than the surrounding atmosphere, had suddenly chilled. “Look … let’s think about this.”
“There’s no need to,” said Fett evenly. “It’s a straightforward proposition. Hand over the material that you found inside the cargo droid, when you were rummaging around in Slave I, and I won’t kill you. What could be fairer than that? Mutually rewarding as well: I’d have what I came here for, and you’d still be alive.”