“Ancient history,” said Boba Fett. He could almost feel sorry for the Shell Hutt, locked inside an account that he could never settle to his profit. Almost, but not quite; sympathy was something else that he’d stripped from his nervous system, using the scalpel of his own transforming will. “We came here to talk about other merchandise. We’re here for Oph Nar Dinnid.”
“Ah, yes!” Gheeta’s eyes grew wider and more maniacal as the IV tube pulsed like an artificial vein at the wattles of his neck. “And the merchandise should always be on the table, shouldn’t it, before we can start dealing-that’s how you want things, isn’t it? Then by all means-“
The dangling mechanical hands suddenly shot forward from beneath Gheeta’s encasing shell and seized hold of the edge of the dais’s central platform. The remaining florals, oozing sap from their broken petals, slid from the top surface and landed wetly across the steps as the thin
metal arms tensed, lifting one side of
the rectangular shape. From the floating cylinder came a high-pitched whine as the repulsor-beam engines strained against the additional load. That was followed by the grinding, tearing noise of decorative masonry being ripped apart as the rectangular platform came loose from the dais and tilted toward one side. Gheeta gave a final, convulsive push, and the platform tore free and toppled down the dais’s encircling steps.
For
a moment the panicked motion in the great reception hall ebbed; the crash of the platform at the feet of Boba Fett and the other bounty hunters had been loud enough to distract the fleeing Shell Hutts from their attempts at escape. At the exits, still blocked by the insignialess mercenaries, the floating cylinders turned, their wide-faced occupants looking back toward the figures at the center of the vaulted space.
Plaster dust floated up from the wreckage of the platform; it now looked like a coffin that had been shattered open in a clumsy attempt at excavation, the thin plastoid sides forced apart from each other by the repeated impact of the steps. In the midst of the debris, draped shroudlike by the embroidered cloth, with a single broken-stemmed floral lying on its chest like a bad joke, was a humanoid form, empty eye sockets gazing up at the reception hall’s distant ceiling. Without even looking at the man’s face, Boba Fett knew who it was.
“There’s your Oph Nar Dinnid.” Gheeta’s voice came from the top of the dais, gloating at the rubble strewn across the floor. “Not such valuable merchandise now, is he?”
From behind Boba Fett, the elder Shell Hutt Nullada pushed forward, hard enough to shove Bossk and IG-88 to one side; the riveted cylinder scraped sparks from the unmoving armor of D’harhan. Fett looked over at the massive figure hovering next to him and saw
that Nullada’s face was quivering with rage. The silken lines holding up the rolls of fat above the eyes and mouth were shimmering like the bowstrings of an ancient projectile weapon.
“This is madness!” As Nullada shouted at Gheeta he shook one of his mechanical hands, clenched into a compact fist. “Vengeance is one thing-we all desire that-but now …” The old Shell Hutt sputtered with incoherent anger. “Now you’re interfering with business! That creature was valuable to us. He was credits … and now he’s dead meat.”
“Calm yourself.” Gheeta sneered at the other Shell Hutt. ” ‘Business’ has been taken care of. Perhaps not to your satisfaction, but to mine. And to the satisfaction of the Narrant-system clan whose trade secrets our late guest had stolen and was busily selling to us. I have been in direct communication with the unfortunate victims of Oph Nar Dinnid’s larceny, and I encouraged them to set a price on those trade secrets-not on what it would cost to get those secrets back, but on what it would cost to make sure that no one else would be privy to them. In other words, the price of Oph Nar Dinnid’s immediate death. The clan made their calculations, named their price, and I accepted on behalf of the Shell Hutts.”
“You … you had no right to do that… .”
“That
shows how old and senile you’ve become.” Gheeta’s sneer turned even more withering.
“You’ve forgotten that there are no rights, except those that you take unto yourself.” The mechanical hands rose, claws curling into sharp-edged fists. “Our treasury is richer now
for the dealing that I have done on my own initiative.”
“Idiot!” Thick drops of spittle flew from Nullada’s mouth. “There’s no way that you could have gotten a price from the Narrant system anywhere close to what the information inside Dinnid’s head was worth.”