Right now, though, he had business to wrap up. The sooner he had dropped off the hard merchandise he was carrying, and collected the bounty for it, the more at ease he would feel. Bossk had been right about one thing: the longer he stayed out here, the more attention he would attract from other bounty hunters. He could undoubtedly fight them all off, but why go to the effort if it wasn't necessary? Leaning over the cockpit's controls, reading out the damage-assessment gauges, Boba Fett started figuring out what kind of navigable condition Slave I was in.
Less than a Standard Time Part later, he had his answer. It'll make the trip, Boba Fett decided, but it'll be in bad shape when it gets there. He had returned to the cockpit after a thorough check of the damaged hull sections, scoping them with a structural diagnostics kit from the cargo area. The ship's main computer had crunched the numbers he had factored in, and the results were not good. Slave I was in no imminent danger of disintegration, and could even travel for an indeterminate distance-as long as he kept it at sub-light speeds. But the explosion had severely weakened the ship's tight-angle thruster ports and maneuvering capabilities; the stresses of a jump into hyperspace would rip some of the control surfaces completely loose from the hull. Slave I could make it to Kud'ar Mub'at's web, but the ship would be a limping cripple when it arrived.
He had no choice. Staying here in this sector, while making repairs, would make him a sitting target for everyone with an eye out for the hard merchandise he was carrying. The safety that would come with unloading his precious living cargo lay at the other side of the galaxy.
Safety. . . and an extremely large pile of credits.
No choice at all.
Carefully and precisely, he started punching the coordinates into the navicomputer, getting ready for the jump into hyperspace.
"The away scout just reported, sir." With a slight bow of the head, the Black Sun comm specialist reported the information." His message states that Boba Fett's ship has left the sector in which it was last seen."
"Very well." Prince Xizor turned away from the main viewport of his quarters aboard the Virago. At the moment, nothing but stars and emptiness showed beyond." Alert all personnel. It shouldn't be long before he arrives here."
"As you direct, sir."
"Be sure everyone understands." Xizor's gaze stayed for a moment on the underling before he resumed his contemplation of the galaxy's bright pieces." We must be ready to welcome him. In the manner" Xizor smiled to himself-" that he deserves. . ."
The comm specialist gave a quick nod of acknowledgment, then hurried away.
Prince Xizor folded his arms across his chest, letting his eyelids draw half-shut with the pleasure of his meditations.
A quick death, he thought, but a sure one. What could be more appropriate than that, for one such as Boba Fett?
16
"Did you find out everything?" Boba Fett glanced over his shoulder at the female standing in the cockpit's hatchway." Everything you wanted to know?"
Neelah shook her head." I decided to give Dengar a break," she said." We left it right at a good part." She smiled maliciously." You were about to get killed."
"Which time?"
"Does it matter?" The look on Neelah's face was almost one of admiration." Telling your history seems to be a long process."
"I've been around a bit." There was little present need for him to mind the Hound's Tooth's controls. The ship's course had already been set." If other creatures think that's so remarkable, it's not my fault. I'm just going about my business."
"Murderous business, from the sound of it."
Fett shrugged." It's a living."
"For you."
"That's all that matters."
Neelah gave him a disgusted look." I'm beginning
to wonder if hanging out with you is such a good idea."
"It all depends," said Fett calmly." You might be safer with me than anywhere else right now."
"What do you mean?"
"There's a lot going on in this galaxy." Boba Fett pointed toward the viewport." I've been going through the data traffic from the major comm bands. There's a major confrontation shaping up between the Empire and the Rebel Alliance, somewhere near En-dor. There's a lot of Imperial resources going into that sector. From the sound of it, could be something big. And decisive."
"So?" Neelah didn't seem impressed." What's that got to do with us? The way I heard it from Dengar just now, you've always managed to survive no matter who was in charge."
"That's possible," said Boba Fett," when there's more than one power dominating the galaxy. Much can be accomplished right under the nose of even a despot such as Emperor Palpatine when his attention is focused on enemies strong enough to challenge him. The Rebel Alliance has given him a great deal of trouble so far-but the Rebels' luck may be finally running out. Palpatine has had enough chances to figure out their weaknesses, and now he means to crush them once and for all."
"And you think that's what will happen?"
"I wouldn't bet against it." Boba Fett swiveled the pilot's chair back toward the cockpit controls." And it will be a lot colder, harder, and more murderous galaxy when it happens. Whatever you might think about me, I am at least an independent operator. Profit is all that motivates me. With Emperor Palpatine, it's something different."
He glanced over his shoulder and saw Neelah slowly nod, deep in her own thoughts. Fett knew she was assessing her own chances in a galaxy such as he had just described. She wasn't enough of a fool to think very much of them. But he also knew that that wasn't going to stop her.
Just as it wasn't going to stop him.
Without looking around, Boba Fett knew that he was alone once more. Neelah had returned to the ship's cargo area. He leaned back in the pilot's chair, hands laid flat on its arms. Soon enough, the Hound would arrive at its destination. In the meantime, there was just waiting and readiness; that was all. That, and the certainty of death-his own or another creature's.
As there had been before, when his own ship Slave I had brought him to the trap where he had been meant to die.
Behind the visor of his helmet, he closed his eyes, letting himself fall into the truer darkness of his past.
How many times, wondered Boba Fett, could he die-and yet not die? Someday it would all be over for him. . .
But not yet, he whispered to himself. Not yet.