[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 01(35)

THEN



He couldn’t believe his good luck.



“I’ve got him this time,” said Bossk. He had upgraded both the firepower and the tracking abilities of the Hound’s Tooth since his last unfortunate encounter with Boba

Fett. The other bounty hunter snatching

the accountant Nil Posondum away from him had been the final irritant underneath his scales; he had sworn to himself that if he ever got the chance, he would put his rival out of commission for good. And nothing will do that, thought Bossk, savoring the words, like blowing Fett to atoms. “When I get done, there won’t be enough of him left to find without an electron microscope.”



Beside him, Zuckuss leaned the hoses of his face mask toward the cockpit’s target-acquisition screen. “I don’t know. …”



“What,

you can’t tell that it’s Boba Fett

ap proaching? Are you blind?” Bossk rapped a claw against the screen, hard enough to leave a permanent mark amid the glowing vector lines. “Of course it’s him! There’s all the identification data on the Slave I.” A tiny column of numbers scrolled down from the triangular icon swiftly moving across the screen. “That’s his ship, so he’s aboard it.”



“Oh, it’s Boba Fett, all right.” Zuckuss nodded slowly. “There’s no doubt about that. I’m just not sure if you should-what’s the phrase you always use?-‘blow him away’ right now.”



Bossk angrily glared at the shorter bounty hunter. “When’s there going to be a better time?”



“Well,

maybe when he’s not traveling under

an assurance of safe passage from your father.” Zuckuss sounded even more doubtful and nervous. The breath in his air tubes rasped quicker and louder. “Boba Fett already contacted the Guild council-you know that-and Cradossk and the others gave him their word that he could dock at the perimeter station without anyone taking a shot at him.”



“They gave him their word.” The slits in Bossk’s eyes narrowed. “They didn’t give him mine.”



“Still …”



You little insect, thought Bossk. When he inherited the leadership of the Bounty Hunters Guild-he had already killed, as was Trandoshan custom, all of his father Cradossk’s younger spawn-he intended to review

the requirements for membership. A certain amount of guts, he figured, should be a prerequisite. Which meant that this sniveling partner that had been foisted on him would be out the air lock like the gnawed bones of yesterday’s lunch.



“Maybe,” whined Zuckuss, “you should think about-this a little more… .”



“Thinking takes too long.” Bossk’s claws moved across the control of the Hound’s weapons systems. “Action gets things done.”



“Your father isn’t going to like this.”



“That remains to be seen.” The same blood ran in his and the old reptilian’s veins; he had the comfort of knowing that his spawn-father was just as mean and vicious as himself. “For all you know, this is exactly what he and the rest of the Guild council are expecting me to do.”



“Destroy

another bounty hunter without warning?” Incredulity pitched Zuckuss’s voice higher.

“That’s hardly in line with the Hunter’s Creed!”



Bossk always felt a simmering impatience when someone mentioned the Creed to him. “Boba Fett has violated the Creed enough times,” he growled, “that he deserves no protection from it.”



“But he’s never been bound by the Creed! He’s never been a member of the Guild!”



“Spare me your tedious legal analysis.” Bossk had locked the concentric rings of the tracker sight onto the distant craft. “If Boba Fett wants to lodge a complaint against me, he’ll have to do it from the other side of the grave. If enough of him can be scraped up to put into one.”



He ignored the rest of Zuckuss’s tiresome fretting. His index claw hit the main fire button, and a quick rumble rolled through the Hound’s frame. On the screen, a brilliant white tracer shot toward the icon representing Boba Fett’s ship.



“Got him!” The shot must have caught Fett completely by surprise; he’d taken no evasive action at all. What a fool, thought Bossk with contempt. That’s what you get for trusting other bounty hunters. The advantage of being considered

lowlife scum by most of

the

galaxy’s inhabitants was that maintaining one’s reputation was never an issue. “You know,” said Bossk, “I’m almost disappointed… .”