“Wouldn’t it have been simpler to have just offered you credits for the fabricated evidence? After all”-Neelah showed a thin smile-“aren’t you willing to do anything, as long as you get paid?”
“That would have worked for me,” replied Fett, “but not for these particular creatures. The problem with paying me for the goods was that it would leave a trail that could be followed. Anytime credits change hands, there’s a link that can be traced. And the usurper faction didn’t want this matter being traced back to them. Killing me-or threatening to do so-is much simpler. If I got hold of the fabricated evidence and turned it over to them, there would be no exchange of credits to link us. And if I failed to do so, then I’d be dead, and there would be no way I could divulge the usurpers’ scheming to the Xizor loyalists. All very neat and tidy. Especially since Black Sun-even just a small faction of the organization-is the only thing that could make a threat against me … and pull it off. Anybody else I’d have a chance against. But not Black Sun. Killing is one of its specialities.”
“I’m impressed,” said Neelah. “I didn’t think you were afraid of anything.”
“This isn’t fear. It’s reality.”
She nodded; it had all started to make sense, the last pieces of the puzzle fitting together. “So when you told us, when we were aboard Balancesheet’s freighter, that getting hold of the fabricated evidence was just a matter of potential profits-you were lying to us.” Neelah peered closer at the bounty hunter. “It wasn’t credits you were after. It was survival.”
“Credits are useless when you’re dead.”
“Then I take it that this is part of the deal as well.” Neelah pulled the shoulder bag in front of herself and extracted the flat black parcel inside. She held the fabricated evidence, the other item that Boba Fett had told her to bring, in both hands. “The deal between you and me.”
“This part isn’t negotiable,” said Fett. “I’m taking the fabricated evidence with me whether you hand it over or not.”
“Since I don’t have any use for it-” Neelah shrugged and held the parcel out. “Go ahead.”
Boba Fett took the parcel with no word of thanks. She hadn’t expected any, either.
“Wait a minute.” Neelah spoke up as Fett turned away. The dark gaze of his visored helmet looked back at her. “You realize,” she said quietly, “that you’re being a complete fool about this. Don’t you?”
A moment passed before Fett spoke. “How so?”
“Come on. Use your brains.” Neelah pointed to the parcel in Boba Fett’s gloved hands. “You’re going to be carrying that stuff into a pretty dangerous place. Sure, this Black Sun usurper faction is going to be happy to get it, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to keep their end of the deal. They want to keep things quiet, about what they’re up to? Then they’re more likely to take the fabricated evidence from you, say thanks very much, and then drill a blaster bolt through your skull. There wouldn’t be any trail linking them to you, after that.”
“Of course not,” replied Fett. “But I’ve already thought about that. And I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve, in case they try anything.”
“Tricks which might not work. Not on some Black Sun faction. As you said, killing is one of their specialities.”
“True.” Boba Fett gave a single nod. “But as it is, if I don’t deliver the fabricated evidence to the usurpers, I have very little chance of surviving. If I do deliver it to them-then my chances will be up to me.”
“Do it, then.” Neelah stepped back and gestured toward the bridge’s exit hatchway. “Good luck.”
“It’s not a matter of luck. Not for me.” Fett turned and walked toward the hatchway. He stopped and looked back at her. “You can trust in your luck, if you care to. When you came here, did you stop to think what your chances would be if I had decided to tie up a few loose ends by eliminating you?”
“Sure.” Neelah reached into the shoulder bag and pulled out a blaster pistol. She held it with both hands, aimed straight toward Fett. “That’s why I came prepared.”
Fett gazed at her and the weapon for a moment, then slowly nodded. “Good,” he said. “I’m glad you learned a few things from me.”
“Oh, I learned lots.” Neelah kept the weapon pointed at him. “More than I wanted to.”
She lowered the weapon only when she could hear the echo of his boot steps fading away in the corridor beyond the hatchway.