[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 01(36)

“Why?” Zuckuss turned his large-lensed gaze away from the screen. “Because he didn’t put up more of a fight?”



“No.” Bossk peered at the red numbers that had flashed on. “Because there’s anything left of him.” He clawed in the command for a damage assessment on the laser cannon’s most recent target, then studied the result. “That ship of Fett’s had some serious armor on it. It’s still holding together.” The glowing triangle had stopped in the middle of the screen, but hadn’t disappeared. To have taken that kind of a hit, enough to punch a hole through the main deck of an Imperial battle cruiser, and still be in one piece, however badly damaged, was amazing. It didn’t correspond with the velocities that the Slave I’s engines-high-thrust but low-mass-capable units from Mandal Motors-could attain. Like most bounty hunters, Boba Fett had always prized speed and maneuverability over protection. Right now, though, Bossk didn’t have time to puzzle over the discrepancy. “Let’s go finish him off.”



The distinctive half-rounded shape of the Slave I filled the viewports as Bossk piloted his own craft toward it. He kept his claws on the controls for the emergency reverse thrusters in case Boba Fett, like the devious scoundrel he was known to be, was lying low inside the other ship, waiting for his own chance to take a shot at his attacker.



“Looks like a clean kill to me.” Zuckuss pointed to the cockpit’s forward viewport. “Right through the center and out the other side. There couldn’t be anyone left alive on that ship.”



“I’ll believe that,” said Bossk, “when I see Boba Fett’s .charred corpse.” He started moving the Hound’s Tooth

in toward the drifting wreckage. “I’m going inside.”



“Well, if you need that kind of proof …” Zuckuss gave a shrug. “I suppose you’ll have to.”



He didn’t even glance over at Zuckuss. “You’re going, too.”



“Oh.”



They

managed to establish a transfer connection between the Hound’s Tooth and what was left of the Slave I. No atmosphere support was needed; enough of the Slave I’s systems were still operating to have sealed off the central interior sections.



“Something’s wrong,” said Zuckuss as he looked about the Slave I’s empty hold.



“Something’s always wrong, as far as you’re con cerned.” This time, though, Bossk wondered whether his partner might be right. A sense of unease crawled across his scales; he drew his blaster and slowly scanned across the open hatchways.



Zuckuss reached over and poked a gloved finger at one of the bulkheads. The thin material wobbled back and forth; another poke, and Zuckuss’s finger went right through it.



“It’s a decoy.” Zuckuss gave a few more exploratory proddings to the hold’s confines, with similar results. “That’s why there’s nothing here-it’s just a shell!” He turned toward Bossk. “No wonder your shot went right through. There’s no real mass to have taken the hit. It’s like shooting through flimsiplast.”



Rage boiled up inside Bossk, nearly blinding him. “That slimy …” Words failed him. He stomped toward the dummy ship’s aft section, shoulders smashing apart the sides of the flimsy hatches.



“This is why we got a positive identification.” Zuckuss had followed behind, into what would have been the cockpit if they had been aboard a real ship. He pointed to a beacon transmitter mounted to one of the space’s curved walls. “Look-you can see that it’s been programmed with the Slave I’s ID profile.” Zuckuss nodded in admiration. “Setting up something like this takes a lot of work; you have to force through overrides almost down to the subatomic level. And then to build it back up with the false data …” He stepped back from the unit. “Fett must have had this decoy already prepared, just keeping it for sometime when he’d need it.” Even behind Zuckuss’s face mask, there was a hint of amusement as he glanced over at Bossk. “Like when he might be heading into some territory where creatures might have a grudge against him.”



“I’ll

kill him.” The words seethed out through Bossk’s clenched fangs. “I swear it. I’ll find him and I’ll kill him so hard …”



“Chances are pretty good, I’d say, that Fett’s al ready slipped by us. We’re wasting our time here.” Zuckuss peered at another device, a cylinder of black metal studded with biosensors. “Now, this is interesting. I wouldn’t have expected something like this aboard a simple decoy vessel.”