“I know what I’m doing,” Zuckuss replied testily. With just one hand, it took a few moments longer to get the circuits aligned properly. “You’ll be up and running in a minute.”
4-LOM’s immobilized state had been a necessary part of the plan; otherwise, the droid could have taken a more active part in rounding up Drawmas Sma’Da. The most essential item, though, had been making sure that Zuckuss had had an operative blaster pistol to work with. That had meant getting a power source past the establishment’s security-impossible-or creating one on the spot. Which was exactly what 4-LOM had figured out how to do in its preparations for this job, even before he had taken Zuckuss on as a partner. With the help of a few highly paid technical consultants, 4-LOM had designed and installed within himself a device capable of stripping out the internal circuit of a standard motivator, the primary mechanism that enabled droid locomotion, and high-grading the resulting simple power source into one both powerful and small enough to be used in a blaster pistol. Like the alchemical wizards on certain remote worlds, who claimed to be able to convert base materials into infinitely more valuable substances, 4-LOM had given himself the ability to change a dull but useful internal component to something very valuable indeed-a blaster power-source, in a locale where none was expected to be.
There were only two drawbacks to the motivator-into-power-source procedure. The first was that the resulting power source would only have enough charge for a few bolts. The second was that without a motivator, 4-LOM would be incapable of any motion, either walking toward the target’s table or even lifting an arm with a weapon clutched in its hand. That second problem was the main reason that 4-LOM had decided to take on a partner; pulling this off was obviously a two-creature job. And as far as the first problem was concerned, that new partner was well versed enough in ordinary, nonbounty hunter psychology to know that a few shots would be all that was needed.
“Got it.” Zuckuss slammed the access panel cover into place. “Time to get out of here.”
“Agreed.” 4-LOM pushed its chair back and stood up from the table. The droid reached over and grabbed Sma’Da’s elbow. “I would prefer it,” 4-LOM told the gambler, “if you did not show any resistance. I have ways of enforcing my preferences.”
Sma’Da stared back at the droid bounty hunter with blubbering terror.
“Good,” said 4-LOM. “I’m pleased you understand.” 4-LOM glanced over at Zuckuss. “You see? I told you this would be an easy job.”
Zuckuss nodded. “I’ve had worse.” Lots worse, he thought. So far he hadn’t actually risked being killed on this one. Though that might change, if he and his partner didn’t hurry.
“Both of you-” The proprietor Salla C’airam had recovered enough of his composure that he was able to screech and flap several of his appendages simultaneously. “You’re barred from this establishment! Permanently! Don’t ever show your faces around here again!”
“Don’t worry about that.” Zuckuss shoved Sma’Da toward the exit tunnel. He kept everyone in the bar covered with the blaster-there were one or two shots left in its charge, at the most-as he and 4-LOM hustled Sma’Da out. “The drinks were terrible, anyway.”
Not until later, when he and 4-LOM were aboard the droid bounty hunter’s ship, with Sma’Da safely stowed in a cage belowdecks, did Zuckuss realize that they had stiffed C’airam. Neither he nor 4-LOM had settled their drinks tab before leaving.
Serves him right, thought Zuckuss.
“So where are we taking this merchandise?” Standing in the hatchway of the cockpit, Zuckuss gave a nod to indicate Drawmas Sma’Da below them.
“I’ve already notified the nearest Imperial outpost.” 4-LOM reached across the controls and made slow minor navigational adjustments.”They know we’ll be bringing him in. And they’ll have the bounty ready to be paid out.”
“This was a job for the Empire?”Zuckuss hadn’t even bothered to ask before he had agreed to hook up with the other bounty hunter. “Why would Palpatine want him?”
“Let’s just say that our merchandise, in his previous role as gambling entrepreneur, was a little too accurate about setting odds for various military encounters between Imperial forces and the Rebel Alliance.” 4-LOM didn’t glance back as he tweaked the ship’s controls. “There’s a limit to how many times one creature can predict things like that, using nothing but intelligence and luck. At the rate that Sma’Da was calling the shots, it began to look like he might have had access to some sources of inside information. From inside the Imperial forces, that is.”