“Yesssss …” the High Priest of Ylesia said, his breath puffing out in a long hiss as he struggled up out of his sling to stand upon all four pillarlike feet. Anticipation pounded like a drumroll in his two hearts and three stomachs.
The sentient who entered the room wore battered, greenish Mandalorian battle armor. Two braided Wookiee scalps, one black and one white, hung from his right shoulder. His features were completely masked by his helmet. Behind the eye slit, Teroenza thought he could make out the glint of his eyes.
“Greetings, Master Fett!” Teroenza boomed, wondering whether to offer his hand. He had a feeling that if he did, Fett would ignore it, so he didn’t.
“I would like to thank you for coming so promptly! I trust you had no problems with our treacherous Ylesian air currents and storms on your way through our atmosphere.”
“Let’s not waste time,” Fett said, his voice flat and inhuman as it came through the helmet’s speaker. “You mentioned Mandalorian wristdarts in your collection as my fee for coming here for a personal interview. Take me to see them. Now.”
“Oh, certainly, certainly, Master Fett, sir,” Teroenza cried. He had a sudden cold certainty that if Fett were to decide for some reason to kill him, there would be little he could do to prevent it. Despite Teroenza’s massive bulk, easily five times that of the human, he felt naked and vulnerable in the presence of the notorious bounty hunter.
Quickly he ushered Fett through the door in his private apartment that led into his treasure room. “They’re right here,” he said, having to forcibly stop himself from talking too quickly, almost babbling. Fett moved beside him, his progress as silent and deadly as a poison dart.
Opening a case, the Ylesian High Priest seized the wristlets. Each contained a spring mechanism that would shoot a profusion of tiny, deadly darts when the wearer moved his fingers in a certain way. “A matched set,” Teroenza gabbled. “I was assured they’re in perfect working order.”
“I’ll determine that for myself,” Fett said, his voice, as always, flat and emotionless. Sealing the wristlets on, he turned in one smooth, lithe motion, and fired both of them into a thick tapestry that adorned the wall. Teroenza squeaked in protest, but dared not say more.
Only after Fett had collected the darts from the tapestry did he turn to face the High Priest. “Very well. I am paid for my time, Priest.
What is it you wish?”
Teroenza pulled himself together. Fett was about to become his employee, after all … in a manner of speaking. He summoned as much dignity as he could, despite the racing of his pulses. “There is a smuggler, Han Solo by name. You may have seen wanted posters for him.”
Fett nodded once.
“Solo travels with a Wookiee, they say, these days. He’s been reported seen on Nar Shaddaa. They say that nine or ten bounty hunters have tried for him, but he’s been too quick for all of them.”
Fett nodded again. Teroenza found his silence unnerving, but he continued doggedly, “I want him. Alive, and relatively unharmed. No disintegrations.”
“That makes it harder,” Fett said. “For seventy-five hundred credits, it’s not worth my time.”
Teroenza had been afraid of this. Inwardly, he quailed at the thought of what Aruk would have to say about this. Aruk liked to call himself “frugal.” Teroenza thought of him as a cheap old miser. But … he had to have Solo. Should he try raising the bounty credits himself?
He didn’t want to sell part of his collection …
“Ylesia will increase the bounty on Solo to twenty thousand credits,” Teroenza said firmly. He resolved to talk Kibbick and Aruk into approving the increase. He’d manage … somehow. After all, it was Aruk’s responsibility, as head of Besadii.
Fett remained motionless, then, finally, just when Teroenza thought he’d say no, he nodded again. “All right.”
The High Priest had to resist the urge to babble thanks at the bounty hunter. “When do you think you can have him?” Teroenza asked eagerly “That’s not enough of a bounty to make me put aside my other commitments,” Fett said. “You’ll have him when I get to him, Priest.”
Teroenza fought his disappointment. “But …”
“Make it a hundred thousand, and I’ll put Solo as my first priority,” Fett offered.
A hundred thousand credits! Teroenza’s mind reeled. His entire collection wasn’t worth much more than that! Aruk would have him drowned in Ylesia’s oceans if he promised such a bounty. He shook his head. “No. Just put him on your list. We’ll wait.”