“You’re the biggest one here,” Zuckuss pointed out helpfully. “Except, of course-” He pointed to D’harhan’s massive
bulk, the laser cannon’s barrel protruding slightly above the drawn-up knees and encircled metal tail. “For him.”
The three bounty hunters looked over at D’harhan.
“I
don’t know,” said Bossk. Even he seemed in timidated by the presence of a fully charged laser cannon in their midst. “Maybe it’s not a good idea to wake him up.”
too late. One of D’harhan’s hands tapped out another message on the silenced voice box and turned its glowing screen toward them, I hear … EVERYTHING YOU SAY.
Zuckuss and the other two bounty hunters stepped back, spines against the bulkhead, as the roused D’harhan slowly stood up, the segmented metal tail drawing around behind him. The housing of the laser cannon mounted onto D’harhan’s chest and shoulders reached above even Bossk’s head. The massive weapon’s tracking systems regarded the bounty hunters in silence for a moment.
“Watch out!” Zuckuss’s cry was involuntary, triggered by the sight of the indicator lights on the laser cannon suddenly surging to red. He dived to the floor as Bossk and IG-88 scattered to either side of the cramped holding area.
On the gridded floor, with his arms pulled over his head, Zuckuss heard the quick, sharp sizzle of a laser bolt, then another; their glare lit up the space, stinging his eyes. In the quiet that followed, he could smell ozone and scorched metal.
Lifting his head, Zuckuss saw the lights on the side of the animate laser cannon dwindling back down to yellow and safety. Flanking the holding area, Bossk and IG-88 looked first toward D’harhan, then toward the target of his
ramped-down laser bolts. The impacts had been precisely calculated and aimed, shattering the hinges of the main merchandise cage; fragments of molten durasteel, scattered across the floor, glowed a dull red. Wisps of acrid smoke rose from the edge of the cage door as it fell with a resounding clang.
“there,” spoke D’harhan’s voice box aloud.
“NOW YOU SHOULD HAVE … NO OBJECTIONS.”
“Your point is valid.” IG-88’s circuitry had re covered completely from the sudden burst of laser fire. The droid stepped over the bars of the fallen door and into what was left of the cage, then turned around.
Bossk regarded D’harhan for a moment longer, his slitted eyes looking up at the cooling laser cannon with something like envy, then followed the other bounty hunter into the area’s adjoining space, now incapable of being shut and locked.
That’ll
take some fixing, thought Zuckuss.
Con sidering the proprietary attitude that Boba Fett natu rally took toward the Slave I and its fittings, he was more than relieved that D’harhan had blown the holding cage hinges and not him.
At that moment Boba Fett appeared on the ladder coming down from the cockpit. The bounty hunters watched as Fett’s visored gaze turned toward the cage in which he transported his merchandise, then down to the barred door lying in front of it.
“That’s
coming out of your share,”
Fett
told D’harhan.
The black-gloved hand moved across the voice box’s keyboard. “no, it’s not.”
For a moment longer they stood facing each other-one masked behind the visored helmet, the other faceless except for the muzzle of the laser cannon-before Boba Fett finally gave a slow nod. “We’ll talk.”
“There’s a ship approaching.” Zuckuss pointed to the viewport. “It must be the Shell Hutts’ negotiator.”
In the viewport, a spherical craft moved closer to the Slave I; a simple off-planet shuttle, it displayed tortoise insignia of the Shell Hutts and a diplomatic emblazon
showing its unarmed status. The shuttle’s forward hatch had already deployed its docking arms, ready to hook up with the Slave I’s transfer hatch.
A few moments later, as Zuckuss manned the hatch’s controls, a broad face with a slit gash of a mouth appeared
floating before the bounty
hunters.
The elongated, tapering cylinder of the Shell Hutt negotiator moved with ponderous grace into the holding area, its underside repulsor beams pushing invisibly against the floor grids. As the end of the tanklike casing made it through the transfer hatch, Zuckuss hit the button and irised the hatch closed again.
“Ah, Boba Fett!” The casing, studded with rivets and various maintenance ports, swung about in the holding area, past the other bounty hunters and toward the figure standing near the metal ladder. A leering smile formed on the Shell Hutt’s face. Tiny mechanical hands dangled beneath a gleaming chromium collar, sealed tight around the wattled gray flesh of its neck; the claws, delicate as a scuttling sea crab’s, clicked happily against each other. “How pleasant to see you again.”