squawk sounded from deep within the feather-wrapped body as he thrust it back toward Dengar.
“What’s the matter?” Dengar let his own smile turn cruel,
savoring the other creature’s
discomfiture. “Something frighten you?”
“Are you mad?” The Q’nithian gaped at him without benefit of the magnifying lens. “Do you know what this is?”
“Sure,” answered Dengar easily. “It’s an atmospheric phase-change detonator for an Imperial-class M-12 sweep bomb. If it’s the same as the others I’ve come across, it’d be set to ignite an attached charge at a perceived twenty-millibar differential.” His smile widened. “Good thing it’s not hooked up to one, huh?”
“You
idiot!”
The
sphere
trembled
in
the Q’nithian’s talons. “There’s still enough explosive in this fuse to take out half of Mos Eisley!”
“Relax.”
Dengar took the sphere back from
the Q’nithian. “It’s cold. Safely inert. Look-” He turned the object so a thumbnail-sized data readout showed. “Do you see those three illuminated red LEDs?”
The Q’nithian shook his head. “No.” He raised the magnifying lens and peered closer. “I don’t see any lights at all.”
“Exactly.” Dengar set the sphere down between them. “This one’s a dud. These particular detonation devices have a failure rate in the field approaching almost ten percent. That’s why the Imperial Navy doesn’t use them anymore; they’ve upgraded to a more reliable gravity-wave system
that’s integrated into the main explosive’s casing.
It’s not removable like this thing.
That should’ve been your first clue that it wasn’t the Empire doing a practice bombing run out there in the desert.”
“Hmm.” The Q’nithian’s ruffled feathers smoothed back down. “You seem to possess … an unusual degree of expertise in these matters.”
“I’ve worked at other things besides bounty hunting.”
“I admire your versatility,” said the Q’nithian. “That’s a useful trait in a sentient creature.” He gin gerly prodded the sphere with the tip of the magnifying lens. “I’ll grant you … for the sake of your exposition … that this is not an Imperial device. But I fail to see the connection between it and Kuat of Kuat.”
“Check it out.” Dengar held the sphere up to the lens. “Serial numbers. All these devices were manu factured at one armory subcontractor, which has ties to the Kuat Drive Yards engineering facilities on the planet Kuat.
The
devices were numbered sequentially,
in production runs of a quarter million. All the ones numbered below the twelve-million mark were reserved for KDY’s own use, for designing and testing the munitions storage chambers aboard the heavy cruisers and destroyers that were being built for the Imperial fleet.” Dengar tapped the tiny incised number with his fingertip. “This is one of those devices. Obviously, KDY decided there would be a use someday for some major bombing action-the company didn’t get to be the leading shipbuilder for the Empire by just underbidding its competition, you know. So it held some bombs and fuses back, after f all the testing on the Imperial ships was finished. If this one had gone off like the others, nobody would have known who had made that bombing run out on the Dune Sea.”
“Interesting.” The Q’nithian’s beady gaze flicked from the sphere to Dengar’s face. “Perhaps there is reason to believe that Kuat of Kuat wishes Boba Fett dead-if Fett is alive at all. But that leaves many other questions unanswered.”
“They’ll have to remain unasked, too. For the time being.” Dengar leaned back on his side of the booth, tucking the metal sphere back inside his jacket. “I don’t have time to give you a full rundown on everything that’s happened out there. Some things you’re just going to have to take on trust,”
“Trust?” The gray feathers rose again in a shrug. “That … is a variable commodity, my friend. Like so many other things. And it has its price.”
“Which I’ve already paid,” said Dengar. “With more to come into your pocket. If everything goes as planned. You can puzzle over the answers to your unasked questions later, if you’d rather do that than count your credits.”
“Counting my credits,” said the Q’nithian, “is a favorite avocation of mine. But there’s one question that I still must ask now. You wish to inform the rich and powerful Kuat of Kuat that, despite all his efforts to the contrary, Boba Fett yet lives. When Kuat comes and finds you, as he undoubtedly will … and as I presume is your intention that he should … then what?”