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[Han Solo] - 03(38)



“We are not far from Hutt space,” Dagore said, a thoughtful note in her voice. “Perhaps we could make contacts with other Hutt lords …

see if they’d be willing to help.”

“Help?” Bria Tharen’s voice sputtered with laughter. “Hutts? They may contribute, and some have, but they do it for their own reasons, trust me, and those reasons have nothing to do with our aims. Hutts are devious . .

. but sometimes their goals and ours coincide. That’s when they hand out their credits. Half the time we can’t even guess what benefit they may be getting as a result of their ‘donation.”” “Probably better not to guess,” Lieutenant Godalhi said. “Still, Commander Tharen, there may be some merit in our increasing our commitment at this time. Our new Imperial Moff is far less … vigilant than Sam Shild was.

We have been getting away with far more lately than we could under Shild’s rule.”

“That’s another thing,” Bria Tharen said. “We’ve been studying this new Moff, Yref Orgege. Most of the new procedures he’s put in place here in the Outer Rim are so ill-advised that we’re beginning to wonder if he has Gamorrean blood.”

Laughter rippled throughout the room.

Bria continued, “Orgege is both arrogant and stupid. He’s insisting that he won’t make Shild’s mistake, and he’s going to keep close personal control over his military force. This policy has cut down tremendously on the Imperial threat here in the Outer Rim. The Imp Commanders have to check with Orgege about the smallest things. He is managing them into paralysis, Commander Dagore.”

“We’re aware of that, Commander,” Dagore agreed. “What do you want us to do about it?”

“Increase your raids on Imperial supply vessels and munitions dumps here in the Outer Rim, Commander. We need those weapons. And by the time Orgege can be contacted and give his orders, you and your people will be long gone.”

Dagore considered for a moment. “I think we can promise you that much, Commander Tharen. For the rest … we’ll take it under advisement.”

“Talk to your people today,” Bria said. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Boba Fett strained his ears, silently urging her to reveal her plans.

But there was no other sound except the scrapings of chairs as the Rebels got up and left the room.

Fett kept a close survey on all the nearby spaceports, but he was unable to catch even a glimpse of Bria Tharen the next day. She must have been smuggled aboard a Rebel ship by some clandestine means.

The bounty hunter was slightly disappointed at his failure, but the most important trait of any hunter—and Boba Fett lived for the hunt—was patience. He resolved to find some way of tipping off the Imperials about Mon Mothma’s treachery, and the Rebels’ plans, without letting them know who their informant was. Many Imperial officers were openly scornful of bounty hunters, referring to them as “scum”—and worse. Fett wished he had more specific information to offer as a tip.

If only the Rebels had revealed plans for an actual operation!

In the meantime, Fett’s trip to Teth would not be wasted. He’d checked with the Guild, and there was an open bounty here on their books, a rich, reclusive businessman who had a high-guarded and “secure” estate in the mountains of Teth.

“Secure” that is, insofar as ordinary bounty hunters went, but Boba Fett was in a class by himself. The businessman’s activities had been so predictable that planning was laughably easy. The man was a creature of habit. Boba Fett wouldn’t even have to go up against his bodyguards, since this was a bounty permitting disintegrations. Only the kill was required.

Boba Fett had found a vantage point in a laakwal tree that would allow him to erect a temporary blind, make the kill, then slip away before the bodyguards or security forces could even pinpoint his location.

One shot would be all that he needed ….





5


“From One Side of this Galaxy to the Other” Over the next five months, Han Solo and his Wookiee First Mate rose to the top of the smuggler heap. For a miracle, Han managed to actually hang on to some of the money he’d won long enough to do most of the modifications on the Millennium Falcon that he’d envisioned.

His haft-alien master technician and starship mechanic, Shug Ninx, let him berth the Falcon in his Spacebarn. Shug’s Spacebarn was almost a legend in the Corellian section of Nar Shaddaa. Within its cavernous interior, traders, pirates and smugglers tinkered with their ships, modifying them, determined to squeeze the last bit of speed and firepower out of them.