of you will be the victor. And I do not greatly care, either." The Emperor appeared to savor the possibilities.
"In the meantime the Empire enjoys the benefits of your little war."
One that I will win, thought Xizor. And after that, it would be time for other plans and schemes. For all his respectful words, the Force and the Emperor's mastery of it meant nothing to him. Of what use was the greatest power in the universe-if it even existed at all, and wasn't just some figment of Vader and Palpatine's imaginations-when it was in the hands of a fool? An aging one, at that, so obsessed with the Rebellion that he would allow a greater danger to him walk the corridors of his palace. He doesn't know, thought Xizor, keeping his own face a mask as he gazed at the Emperor. Despite having given himself over to the dark side of the Force, Emperor Palpatine didn't suspect what was still hidden in the shadows surrounding him.
"Go about your self-appointed business, Xizor." The Emperor's hand made a dismissive gesture. "You plot and work to bring about other creatures' destruction; this pleases me. Knowing what I do about Boba Fett and the members of the unfortunate Bounty Hunters Guild, it is a process that I do not anticipate will take long to achieve the desired results. Come and report to me again when these sharper tools are ready to be delive red into my grasp."
"As you wish, my lord." Xizor bowed, then turned. The edge of his caped robes flared with that motion, the thick rope of his bound hair swinging across the exposed ridges of his vertebrae.
"I also will want to hear of your success." Lord Vader's holo image spoke as Xizor strode from the Emperor's throne room. "Or the lack thereof."
Xizor couldn't help smiling to himself as he left the presence of the Emperor and his chief servant. There would be successes, of that he was confident. But not the kind they expected.
Emperor slowly shook his head. "He is a sharp-edged tool in himself, Vader. He cuts through difficulties with ease. This scheme he has initiated against the bounty hunters-it is a stroke of genius. Even Boba Fett, as smart as he is, will have little conception of what forces have been brought against him." The thin smile showed on the withered face again. "There is a great satisfaction that comes from turning a sentient creature's own strengths against him. Fett and the others like him will soon find out just how that works."
Lord Vader's image was silent for a moment before speaking, words softer than his rasping breath. "And Prince Xizor?"
"His time will come as well," said the Emperor. "When he will learn the same." He gave the same gesture of dismissal with one hand, "Now go." The Emperor turned his throne toward the stars, the vast reaches that extended before him. "I have other things to contemplate." bottom of the door to swing it shut. "That's all I need from you right now."
He could hear the majordomo's steps running down the corridor, the sounds fading away until the space was silent except for a slow drip of water in one corner. A
native insect, bristling with antennae and eyestalks-a miniature version of the council member that spoke in nothing but questions-had been aroused by the presence of humanoid body heat. It tried to escape as Boba Fett reached over with his armor-gloved hand, but his forefinger cracked the bug's chitinous shell and left the tiny carcass smeared on the damp rock. Fett watched as a swarm of smaller creatures scurried away. Vermin and cold didn't bother him. He'd been in worse places.
This one had the advantage as well of being easily scoured for other bugs, the kind that would report one's words to Cradossk and his advisers. Fett hadn't even found it necessary to do a scan on the first room to which the Twi'lek had taken him, to know that the wall hangings had been studded with microscopic listening and observation devices. The old Trandoshan's welcoming party, complete with drunk act, hadn't fooled him. They know something's up, thought Fett. The Bounty Hunters Guild had been a tougher organization in the past; Cradossk hadn't become its leader by being a complete idiot.
Fett hadn't survived on his own by being one, either.
Cradossk would doubtlessly have expected him to reject the luxury quarters, and have an alternative already prepared. An alternative that would meet Cradossk's requirements. Boba Fett snapped on the scanning sweeps mounted in his helmet; a precisely calibrated grid snapped into view in the narrow visor.
What do we have here? Just as he'd expected turning slowly on his boot heel, Fett saw the pulsing red spark in the grid that indicated a miniaturized spy module. He completed his scan, finding two more at varying heights on the opposite stone wall. It would have been easy to have extracted them from their niches and crushed them between his fingertips, the way he had the living bug.
Instead, he took from one of his belt pouches a trio of audio drones, already set by him to reproduce the nearly subliminal traces of his breath and other homeostatic functions. He tapped the drones into place, directly on top of the bugs. No other sound would get past them; a signal in his gear would switch them off when he left the space, producing perfect silence.
He didn't anticipate spending much time here; he'd really only wanted to give Cradossk a chance to display his hospitality. And subterfuge. Any sleep or meals that Boba Fett required, he would take aboard the Slave I, safely docked and secured at the edge of the Guild's main compound. I've got enough enemies here, he'd decided.
There was no sense in making it any easier for them to get at him.
Though if they wanted to talk with him, face-toface- this dank little room was sufficient for that.
Just as he'd anticipated, he didn't have long to wait. A knock sounded on the splintered planks of the door, then the rusting hinges bolted into the stone creaked as a hand with claws and scales pushed it open.
"So we are to be brothers." Bossk stood in the doorway, his slit-pupiled eyes showing both resentment and a primitive guile. "How pleasant that shall be for both of us."
Boba Fett looked over his shoulder at the younger Trandoshan. "That matters little to me. I take my pleasure in my work. And in getting paid for it."
"You're famous for that." Bossk entered the space, his wavering shadow cast ahead by the torches mounted along the corridor. He sat down heavily on the bench carved out of one wall. "I'd find my pleasures the same way-if it weren't for you."
"You speak of the past." Fett stood in the center of the damp stone floor, his arms folded across his chest.
"Have you forgotten already what your father said?" The banquet had still been in progress as the Twi'lek majordomo had led Boba Fett to his quarters. "A new time has begun for us. For all bounty hunters."
"Ah, yes; my father." Shaking his head in disgust, Bossk leaned back against the wall. "My father speaks of great and noble things; he always has. It's one of the reasons I despise him. The day will come when I sharpen my teeth on the shards of his bones."
"Family matters don't interest me." Boba Fett shrugged. It had been obvious to him for a long time before this why Trandoshans were not a numerous species.
"Deal with the old creature as you feel best. If you think you're capable of it."
A low growl sounded from deep within Bossk's throat.
He leaned forward, eyes narrowing into slits as he focused on some personal vision. "Someday..." He nodded slowly. "When the Guild is mine ..."
Fool, thought Boba Fett. The Trandoshan had no idea of the machinery in which he was already caught, the gears grinding out a different future than the one of which he dreamed.
"But that's why you're here, isn't it?" Bossk looked up at him. "Why you've come all this way to join the Bounty Hunters Guild." One clawed hand pulled a small box that had been dangling from one of his chest straps; he flicked open the hinged lid and dug out a wriggling morsel. "Want one?" Bossk held the container out on his scaly palm.
Boba Fett shook his head. The little box's contents were identical to the insect he'd crushed against the stone wall. "What are you talking about?"
"You don't fool me." Bossk grinned as he refastened the box to the strap. "As I said before-you might fool a senile old lizard like my father, but you can't do the same with me. I know exactly why you came here."
"And why would that be?"
"It's simple." Bossk cracked the insect between his f ront fangs, then swallowed the two oozing pieces.
"You're aware of how old Cradossk is. You'd have to know; you had enough encounters with him in the past, before I was even spawned. His time has to come to an end, eventually. And then the leadership of the Guild will pass to me. That's already been decided. There's no one on the council that's any younger than my father; some of them are old enough to have cobwebs growing between their claws. They'll be glad to have me take over."
"You might be right about that." Fett had heard of other possibilities. There were other bounty hunters in the Guild who were as young and hungry as Bossk. The leadership of the Guild wouldn't be handed down without some kind of a struggle.
"Of course I'm right." With the point of one claw, Bossk extracted a fragment of bug shell from between his fangs. "And you're the proof of it."
"How do you figure that?"
"Come on; let's face it. We've both been around the galaxy a few times. Maybe I don't have the same amount of experience that you do, but I'm a fast learner." Seated on the stone bench, Bossk smiled with cozy familiarity at Boba Fett. "You'll be glad you've met up with me like this, rather than both of us scrabbling over some minor bounty. There's big credits to be made here; bigger than my father and his dried-up old cronies ever dreamed of.
You know that, don't you?"
Fett didn't bother to indicate yes or no. "I'm always on the lookout for a profitable arrangement."
"That's what makes you the kind of mean barve I really like." Bossk's carnivorous grin widened. "My father was right about one thing You and I, we really are like brothers. We should get along just fine, given the changes that are going to happen around here." He leaned back against the stone wall. "Like you said-we have to change with the times. We just have to make sure the changes go our way, huh?"
The assembler knew what it was talking about, thought Boba Fett. He had to give Kud'ar Mub'at credit for the accurate assessment of how things would go here at the Bounty Hunters Guild. Fett had been here for less than a standard time part, and already the pieces were falling into place. Better than that leaping into place. The son of the Guild's leader was volunteering to take his place in the scheme that would tear apart the organization.
"You're a clever creature." Boba Fett gave a slow nod of acknowledgment. "Very clever."
"Smart enough to figure out what you're up to, pal."
The slit-pupiled eyes regarded Fett with satisfaction.