[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(59)
“I ought to kill you,” continued Neelah, from somewhere on the other side of his closed eyes and the sweet, dwindling remnants of his dream. A blow from her small, rock-hard fist, right across the side of Dengar’s jaw, produced a constellation of stars that blotted out the image he was trying to hold, of Manaroo wrapped in his embrace. “As a matter of fact, maybe I will…”
He had been knocked far enough awake that he was able to roll with the next punch Neelah delivered from where she stood above him. Getting onto his hands and knees, Dengar scrambled toward the nearest bulkhead, then grabbed hold of it and pulled himself upright to face her.
Definitely not dreaming, Dengar told himself, not now. He found himself uncomfortably awake and standing in the rank-smelling, close-quartered cargo hold of the Hound’s Tooth. “What are you going on about?” He crouched slightly, taking a stance with his empty hands outstretched to fend off another attack from the anger-crazed female in front of him. “What did I do?”
“What did you do …” Neelah echoed his words as she looked at him in disgust, her own hands planted on her slim hips. “Tried to make a fool out of me, that’s what. All that time I was pressing on you to tell me about what’d happened to Boba Fett in the past, and you were already under orders to fill me in on exactly that.”
“Oh.” Dengar relaxed a bit, lowering his hands. “No big deal.” He immediately raised them again when he saw that her anger hadn’t ebbed any. “Anyway-what’re you complaining about? You didn’t have somebody waving a blaster in your face, wanting a bedtime story!”
The structural damage sustained by the Hound’s Tooth had loosened the durasteel bars of the holding cage, with several of them wrenched free of their upper sockets and splaying out into the cargo hold. Neelah grasped one of the shorter bars from near the cage’s door and pulled it free of the socket below. It made a formidable if simple weapon; with it cocked back over her shoulder, ready to swing, she took a step closer to Dengar.
Fire flashed in her eyes for a second, then just as quickly dimmed. “Let’s face it,” she said. The metal bar clanged on the hold’s floor as she tossed it away. “He ran a number on both of us. Just so he could have as much peace and quiet as he wanted while he navigated the ship.”
“Well, yeah, I’m willing to let him have it, if that’s what he wants.” Dengar slowly straightened from his defensive crouch, ready to drop back into it if this female showed any more signs of her murderous temper. There was a big difference between her and Manaroo, it struck him. His betrothed could be just as tough if necessary, but so far she hadn’t ever given any indications that she wanted to kill him. That might change after they were married-if that ever happened-but he was willing to take the chance. “He’s not just the head bounty hunter around here. He’s also the pilot of the ship. I can wait until he gets us to where he wants to go.”
“Your waiting’s over,” said Neelah. With her thumb, she pointed toward the cockpit above them. “We’ve arrived.”
“Yeah?” Dengar rubbed his chin, warily regarding the female. A hard knot of apprehension coalesced in his stomach. It was one thing to travel toward an unknown destination, but quite another thing to reach that mysterious point. Whatever else Boba Fett might have filled him in on-it didn’t amount to much-there hadn’t been any talk about the events that would go down once they got there. “Now what?”
“That’s the big question. But our intrepid captain has decided to break his silence, at least. So get a move on-Fett wants us both up in the cockpit for a briefing.”
Dengar nodded, then managed a half smile. “That oughta improve your disposition, at least.”
He followed Neelah up the ladder. But even as he mounted the metal treads, his mind slipped back to the last fading vestiges of the dream he had been enjoying before being so violently awoken. It had been all about the same fantasy in which he indulged even when awake, during those relatively quieter times when he wasn’t trying to keep from getting killed. The partnership with Boba Fett had to pay off, figured Dengar. Big time. Fett had to have something major cooking, or he wouldn’t have bothered taking on a partner-gratitude wasn’t a sufficient motivation with a hard character like that. Save a guy’s life, brooded Dengar, and what do you get for it? Not much, except for a chance to get killed in some scheme of his. That was the easy part; the harder one would be turning this partnership gig into cold, hard credits, the kind that would pay off his debt load and set him and Manaroo up in a new life. Something like brokering the galaxy’s high technologies to underdeveloped backwater planets, like that dump of a world Tatooine. That was where the real profits were to be made, and a lot more safely besides. Even with paying out the bribes to keep a commercial operation going, either to the Empire or, if the wildest imaginable possibilities came true, to whatever was put together by the Rebel Alliance, there would still be the chance of him and Manaroo doing well together. All it took were the connections-I’ve got those already, Dengar told himself-and a little bit of operating capital. Actually, a lot of capital; that was why he’d agreed to hook up with Boba Fett in the first place.