“Come on, Figh; nobody gives anybody anything, not in this galaxy. But now that we’ve established that you’ve got something to sell, we can talk about price.”
” ‘Sell’?” Figh drew back, eyeing Bossk warily. “What would be?”
“Information, obviously. You don’t have to play around with me. You must have something on Boba Fett, something that you think I’d be interested in. Okay, you’re right about that; I am interested.” Bossk jabbed a finger toward the creature on the other side of the table. “I was interested even before you came around, trying to get the price jacked by getting me all worked up about Fett. So let’s deal.”
“Deal… price … sell…” Figh shook his head. “All need something else, if happen.”
“What’s that?”
“Credits,” Figh said bluntly. “Your credits. Got?”
“I’ve got enough.” Bossk shrugged. “For the time being.”
“Said before. Doesn’t look like it.”
It was Bossk’s turn to grow irritated. “Appearances can be deceiving.”
“Very.” Figh had recovered enough of his composure to show his unpleasant smile again.”But have to be credits up-front. Pay as you go. Not running a tab; not with me.” Figh nodded toward the bartender at the other side of the cantina. “Stiff that fool, you want. Here, business.”
Business was all that mattered. Bossk had already made some decisions along that line. It wasn’t just a matter of his own personal priorities, his thirst for revenge against Boba Fett, that had led him to put off going after Gleed Otondon and the pilfered treasury of the old Bounty Hunters Guild. He was caught in a double-bind situation: as useful as all those credits would be-there was more than enough to buy a new ship and completely outfit it with all the necessary weaponry for hunting down and eliminating Fett-his chances of successfully tracking down Otondon were virtually nil as long as his own reputation was so badly impaired, with every other bounty hunter with a grievance against him in the way. It was a better idea, with the limited resources at his disposal, to reestablish his reputation by settling his own grudge against Boba Fett; that would make him a feared individual once more in the galaxy-wide community of bounty hunters, and he would have a free hand in going after the stolen property that should rightfully have been his all along.
“All right,” said Bossk. “Business it is. Pay as we go.” He leaned across the table, bringing his hard, unsmiling gaze close to Figh. “What’ve you got for me?”
“Very valuable.” Figh didn’t flinch. “Location of Boba Fett. Where at. Now.”
Bossk was impressed. “You got that?”
“No. But can get.”
Unimpressed now, Bossk sat back, his spine against the booth’s padding. “Let me know when you do. Then you get paid.”
“Don’t worry.” Figh slid out of the booth. “You see me again.”
Bossk watched the Mhingxin work his way through the crowd that had started to fill up the cantina. Then Figh was gone, up the stairs to the surface and the streets of Mos Eisley. Where presumably such marketable information could be found.
He hoped that Figh did come back with the info. That was something he wouldn’t mind paying for, no matter how slim his finances were at the moment. You can’t hit a target, he told himself, if you don’t know where it is. All the time he had been traveling toward Tatooine, he had made attempts to discern Boba Fett’s whereabouts. That had been a big part of Bossk’s reasons for coming to the planet on which Boba Fett had last been spotted, taking off from the Dune Sea with another bounty hunter named Dengar and some dancing girl who had managed to escape from Jabba the Hutt’s palace; Bossk didn’t even know her name, or
why Fett would have had enough interest in her welfare to have kept her around. But those two had been with Fett when another low point in the continuing litany of Bossk’s humiliations at his hands had occurred. With another one of his underhanded psychological ploys, Boba Fett had managed to chase Bossk out of his own ship, the Hound’s Tooth, and once more into an emergency escape pod, hurtling away from what Bossk had thought was certain destruction but which had turned out to be only a dud autonomic bomb.
It was a good bet that Boba Fett was still in possession of the Hound’s Tooth. Fett’s own ship, Slave I, had been found abandoned by a Rebel Alliance patrol squad. Along with Dengar and the female, Boba Fett must have transferred over to the Hound and piloted it toward
some
unknown destination. Which makes, Bossk thought grimly, one more thing he’s stolen from me. Bossk’s reputation and his ship; Boba Fett had a lot to answer for.