[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 01(103)

Fett

said nothing. He waited for the rest

of D’harhan’s silent words.



i can stop now … but you… The black-gloved fingertip moved from letter to letter on the voice box’s keypad. you still must go on. …



The hand fell away from the box. D’harhan’s forearm struck the ground beside his body. There was no more breath or pulse lifting his chest; after a moment Boba Fett reached over and switched off the last of the laser cannon’s red-lit controls.



He stood up and turned toward the other bounty hunters. “We’re done here,” said Fett. “Now we can go.”





17


Zuckuss looked up into the old Trandoshan’s eyes, into the black slits of that hard reptilian gaze. And said, “Everything happened the way you wanted it to.”



“Good.” Cradossk slowly nodded as he turned away. “I expected that.”



I bet you did, thought Zuckuss. Being back here in the private quarters of the Bounty Hunters Guild’s leader gave him the creeps. This was where Cradossk had sucked him into the distasteful little conspiracy that would result in Bossk’s death. It struck Zuckuss, not for the first time, that these Trandoshans were indeed coldblooded, right down to the marrow of their fenestrated bones. The only thing that could account for their hot tempers was the strength of their carnivorous appetites.



That cold blood had never been more in evidence than just now, when he had told Cradossk the details of what had happened on Circumtore.



“You saw it?” Cradossk had demanded an eyewitness verification of his son’s death. “You saw him take the shot?”



“Right in the chest,” Zuckuss had answered. “He didn’t get up after that.” His own blood had chilled when he spotted the little smile on Cradossk’s face.



“You came straight here?” Cradossk didn’t turn around to look at him again, but continued idly fiddling with a couple of pieces from the bone chamber at the far end of the spacious suite. “As soon as you landed?” The pieces were yellowy white, slender and curved; Zuckuss’s own ribs twinged in painful sympathy as he recognized what they were. “You didn’t talk to anyone else?”



The tubes of his face mask’s breathing apparatus swung back and forth as he shook his head. “No one. Those were your orders. When … you know … when you gave me the job.”



He was still sorry he’d agreed to it. Even though he’d

come back from Circumtore with his own skin relatively intact, if somewhat bruised and battered from the action in the Shell Hutts’ great reception hall. Going along with someone who’d been making arrangements to get his own son killed-which was what the whole futile journey to acquire an already dead piece of merchandise had been about-still turned him somewhat queasy. Maybe Boba Fett’s right, he mused bleakly. Maybe I’m not really cut out for the bounty-hunter trade.



“I’m

glad to see that you can follow orders.” Cradossk held the rib bone up close to his aging eyes. The name of the vanquished foe to which it had once belonged

was incised along its length, the

marks scratched there by one of his own foreclaws. “I’m impressed with your … loyalty. And your intelligence. Both of those attributes will stand you in good stead in the difficult times before us.” He sighed, lowering the memento of past glories, his gaze focusing on some far-off horizon. “How I wish that my son had possessed similar qualities. Or to put it another way-” He turned his head just enough to cast a sidelong glance at the younger bounty hunter. “If only someone such as yourself had been my offspring.”



Sure, thought Zuckuss. He kept himself from showing any other reaction. And wind up dead, the first time you started feeling paranoid? No thanks.



“Mark my words.” Cradossk’s gnarled claws gripped the bone as though it were a club suitable for thrashing miscreants. His voice rumbled lower, matching the heavy scowl on his scaly face. “If the other bounty hunters of your generation were as smart as you-and respectful of their elders’ wisdom-then a great deal of trouble could be avoided. But they have … ideas of their own.” He spoke the word with loathing. “Just as my son did. That’s why it was so important that he be eliminated, and in a way that would not appear to have been from my conniving at that result. This way … to have it happen on a world far from here, and among clever, greedy creatures such as the

Shell Hutts … it makes his death seem the inevitable

consequence of his

own

stupidity

and incompetence. So much for his new ideas.” Cradossk sneered. “The old ways are the best ways. Especially when it comes to killing other creatures.”