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[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(50)

By:Hard Merchandise


“I’ll guarantee you safe passage.” Prince Xizor pointed down the web’s central corridor, back toward Slave I mired in the fibrous structure. “You’ve got your bounty now. I’d suggest you return to your ship. You’ve delivered your hard merchandise, and we don’t have anything more to discuss. And frankly”- Xizor glanced around the chamber with distaste-“I’ve spent enough time here already.”

“That’s one thing we agree on, then.” Boba Fett regarded the Falleen over the barrel of the blaster pistol. “But for the rest-I have my doubts. How much do you think I trust you, Xizor? You could be lying to me now, the same way Kud’ar Mub’at was when I got involved in this whole business.” Fett slowly shook his head. “You know that my ship is barely capable of traveling; I can nurse it along to the nearest planet with an operating repair yard if I take it slow. But I’m not going to sit out there and be a sitting duck for you to fire off your laser cannons at again.”

“You should weigh your words a little more carefully, bounty hunter.” The cruel smile had long vanished from Xizor’s harshly chiseled features. His violet-tinged eyes narrowed into slits that might have been cut with the point of a vibroblade. One hand shot out and grabbed the barrel of the blaster pistol being held on him. His fist squeezed tighter on the weapon, but made no move to push it away; it remained aimed directly at his chest. “I gave you the word of a Falleen noble; that should be enough to remove any doubts concerning your fate. If not, think on what my associate Balancesheet has told you: we have determined that you are worth more to us as a living bounty hunter than a dead one. Don’t tempt me to change my mind once more on that point.”

“There’s something I haven’t decided, though.” The blaster remained locked between Boba Fett and Xizor, with the bounty hunter’s finger tight against the trigger. “I don’t know,” continued Fett, “if you’re worth more to me alive or dead.”

“Don’t be a fool,” said Xizor coldly. “I’ve humored you long enough, allowing you to keep this thing pointed at me. If it pleased you to talk business while waving a blaster around, then so be it. But if you’re planning on firing it, you’d better try doing it soon. I’ve just about run out of patience.”

“So have I.”

“Believe me, bounty hunter-you’ll run out of luck just as quickly. You kill me, and what do you think would happen next? Even if my guards didn’t find out within minutes, where do you think you’d run to in your crippled ship? I can assure you, Black Sun would not take well to the loss of its leader-and the life of that assassin would be a very brief proposition.” Xizor’s hard gaze drilled through the visor of the Mandalorian battle-armor helmet and into Boba Fett’s own. “It’s not a matter of sentiment, bounty hunter; just business, pure and simple.” He took his hand away from the barrel of the blaster pistol. “Now you have to decide.”

Boba Fett weighed the other creature’s words. A few seconds of silence ticked away, then Fett nodded. “I appear to have no choice,” he said. “Except to trust your word.” He lowered the blaster and slipped it back into its holster. “Whether I want to or not.”

“That’s smart enough.” The chill half smile reappeared on Xizor’s face. “You don’t have to figure out everything in this galaxy; just enough to survive will do.” He turned his gaze around to the former subnode Balancesheet, still perched on the chamber’s wall near him. “Send for my guards,” he ordered. “And have them bring the others-the cleanup crew-with them. It’s time to bring this show to an end.”

The renegade stormtrooper had silently watched the tense exchange between the bounty hunter and the Falleen noble. Now, as Boba Fett turned away, Voss’on’t called after him, “Take care of yourself.” The words were filled with mocking venom. “I want you all in one piece, Boba Fett. For the next time we meet up.”

Boba Fett glanced over his shoulder at the other man. “I don’t think there’s going to be a next time. It doesn’t matter who wanted you returned to them, or who put up the bounty for you.” He slowly shook his head. “It doesn’t even matter if you were part of the scheme to break up the old Bounty Hunters Guild.” Boba Fett turned and walked back toward Voss’on’t, then grabbed the rags of his jacket front and pulled him partway up from the chamber’s matted floor. “Did you really think I hadn’t figured that part out?” A rare tinge of anger sounded in Boba Fett’s carefully emotionless voice. “The bounty for your return was far too much for a stormtrooper’s life, no matter what he might have stolen. Emperor Palpatine doesn’t buy his vengeance at that high a price. There’s always something else he wants, some other grand scheme involved. But I’m happy to take the credits, no matter the ultimate reason they were paid out.”