Kud’ar Mub’at’s voice wavered with fear. “What… what are you going… to do?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Nobody’s finding out anything,” said Boba Fett. He had listened to the exchange between the Falleen prince and the arachnoid assembler with mounting impatience. The blaster pistol rose in his hand once more, reasserting its hold on the others’ attention. “That is,” he continued, “until my business is taken care of.”
“Of course.” Xizor gave a nod of acknowledgment. “But you see, bounty hunter-this is your business. My new associate Balancesheet was the one who convinced me that you should be allowed to go on living. And that was after I had already decided that you should be killed.” An indulgent though still cruel smile showed on Xizor’s face. “You’re a fortunate creature. Many in Black Sun will testify that it’s a rare occasion when I change my mind.”
“Then why did you?”
From its perch on the chamber wall, Balancesheet answered. “My analysis was that you’re worth more to me alive than dead, Boba Fett. With the old Bounty Hunters Guild now dismantled, there’s no one in your chosen profession with your resources and skills. Black Sun-as well as the other clients whose accounts I’ve inherited-will still have need of an effective bounty hunter such as yourself. The consideration that had prompted Prince Xizor’s previous decision to kill you was based upon seeing the need to reduce the number of creatures who were aware-or who might become aware-that he and Black Sun had been behind the anti-Guild operation from the beginning.” The former subnode spoke as matter-of-factly as if it had been adding up a long column of numbers in its head. “But as I pointed out to Xizor-we were having our discussion via comm unit the whole time you were talking here-getting rid of Kud’ar Mub’at accomplishes the same thing, and more. Not only do we eliminate the weakest link in the chain-after all, an assembler buys and sells information all the time-but we also leave a more valuable business associate alive. One that would owe us a favor as well.”
Boba Fett shook his head. “If you’re expecting gratitude, then I’m in short supply. And you’re the ones who owe me, remember? For him.” He pointed with the blaster toward Voss’on’t. “Nobody leaves here, dead or alive, until the bounty gets paid out.”
“That’s right!” Kud’ar Mub’at unfolded his forelimbs, stretching their sticklike lengths out toward Fett. “Don’t… trust them,” the assembler cried in agitation. “They’re … they’re trying to cheat you.” A pleading tone filtered into the high-pitched voice. “I’m … the only one… who’s on your side …”
“Shut up.” Boba Fett knocked the assembler’s claws away with a swipe of the blaster pistol. “If there’s anybody on my side, I haven’t found them yet.” He turned his visor-shielded gaze, and the blaster, toward Prince Xizor. “So how about it?”
“The bounty? Very well.” Xizor gave a slight nod, then turned and gestured with one hand toward Balancesheet. “Transfer the funds being held in escrow on Coruscant to the main operating and receipt account of the bounty hunter Boba Fett.” He glanced back at Boba Fett and smiled. “You didn’t really think all those credits were being kept here, did you?”
“Doesn’t matter where they were.” Boba Fett kept the blaster pistol raised. “As long as they wind up in the right place.”
“The credits are already there,” said Balancesheet. “I signaled for the transfer to be made before I had my own discussion with Prince Xizor.” This time a trace of self-satisfaction sounded in the former subnode’s voice. Its small compound eyes looked toward the Falleen. “I was confident that we would wind up in agreement on this matter.”
Xizor’s eyes narrowed to slits. His courtly manner of just a few seconds before seemed to have evaporated. “Assumptions such as that might cause difficulties between us in the future.”
“Perhaps.” The tiny creature didn’t appear intimidated. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes.”
Through his own comlink mounted inside his helmet, Boba Fett accessed the remote communications functions aboard Slave I. It took only a few seconds to verify the sum that had been in the now-empty escrow account, and that a transfer had gone through into his own account. The bounty for Trhin Voss’on’t was his now.
“Fine,” said Boba Fett. The blaster pistol stayed raised in his hand. “You two can sort out your business affairs any way you want. They don’t concern me. The only other item on my agenda is making sure that I get out of here alive. All those credits don’t mean much if I’m too dead to spend them.”