A New Threat Read online

  "By all means, master," said the Twi'lek with a nasty smile.

  Boba looked over. The remaining bounty hunters hurried toward the

  arched doorway. The last to leave was the Aqualish. He glared back at Boba,

  then followed the others.

  "Now," thundered Jabba from his throne. He leaned forward, his tail

  twitching slightly, and beckoned Boba toward him. "You have done well for a

  young bounty hunter."

  "Thank you, Lord Jabba," said Boba.

  "So well, in fact, that I have no more use for you here," Jabba

  continued.

  Boba looked at him, startled. "But you just said...?" he asked. "No

  more use for me?" He swallowed, trying not to let his alarm show.

  But all l want is to be a bounty hunter, he thought. The very best -

  and only the very best work for Jabba!

  "That is not what I said." Jabba's voice was calm, with an edge of

  menace. "I said I had no more use for you here, on Tatooine."

  Boba stared at him, hardly daring to believe his ears.

  Jabba nodded. "That is right. Tomorrow you begin a new job for me,

  Boba - off-planet!"

  CHAPTER THREE

  Off-planet! Yes!

  Boba wanted to punch the air in excitement. "When do I leave?" he

  asked.

  Jabba watched him approvingly. "I am glad to see you are pleased at

  the prospect," he boomed. He picked up a squishy, star-shaped glubex,

  unpeeled its head from its body, and ate it, slurping loudly. He held out

  the empty skin to Boba.

  "Uh, no thanks," said Boba.

  Jabba belched and went on. "Many would be terrified at the very

  thought of traveling to Xagobah in these troubled times. But I think my

  instincts about you are correct. You do not seem afraid."

  Boba hesitated. "My father taught me that fear can be overcome," he

  said at last. He felt a pang at the memory of his father, Jango Fett - the

  mighty bounty hunter, slain by that murderous Jedi, Mace Windu. "He always

  said that a good bounty hunter ought to know his prey as well as he knew

  himself.

  Knowledge is power. Fear is energy. And with power and energy, one can

  conquer anything. One can defeat any enemy."

  Jabba stared at him through slitted amber eyes. "Your father taught

  you well, Boba Fett."

  "What he did not teach me, 0 Jabba, I have learned from you."

  Jabba's enormous mouth opened in a bubbling laugh. He reached for the

  withered stalk of Jhordvar's arm and waved it as though it were a fan. "Hoh

  hoh! In that case, you have learned well indeed!"

  Jabba tossed Jhordvar's arm into the shadows. "But you will need all

  your knowledge, young Fett," he said. "And luck wouldn't hurt - not where

  I'm sending you."

  Boba waited patiently. He knew better than to interrupt Jabba.

  At this point, Jabba's major-domo took over. "Last week a high-ranking

  member of the Republic Senate contacted the great Jabba. Completely

  confidential, of course," the obsequious Bib Fortuna said with an evil

  smirk. "They want it to appear that they are working through the proper

  channels. They have put a bounty on the heads of many leading Separatists.

  Our Lord Jabba had agreed to help them hunt down these scum. Everyone knows

  his bounty hunters are the best," Bib Fortuna added, gloating. "Even the

  Republic!"

  Boba smiled. His hand moved instinctively to the blaster nestled at

  his hip. "So you want me to hunt them down?"

  "No." The Twiilek gestured dismissively at the empty hall. "Lord Jabba

  will let those others do that."

  Boba glanced at Jabba. The crime lord was watching him closely. Boba

  kept his expression calm. He waited as Fortuna continued. "Jabba has

  something much more hazardous in mind for you."

  Boba nodded. "Great!"

  "Have you ever heard of a Separatist named Wat Tambor?"

  "No," said Boba.

  "He is the Separatists' Techno Union Foreman, as well as a combat

  engineer. A brilliant strategist. And extremely dangerous - an expert at

  fighting machines, and a master of defense technologies. He is also an

  expert at escape. The Republic captured and detained him at a high-security

  facility. But several of Tambor's followers from the Techno Union freed

  him, with the assistance of a Clawdite shapeshifter."

  "A Clawdite," repeated Boba, scowling. "I have grown to hate

  Clawdites."

  He didn't say why - namely that a young shape-shifter had robbed him

  while Boba was on Aargau, trying to regain his father's fortune.

  "Lord Jabba's sources inform him that Wat Tambor is now on Xagobah,"

  said Bib Fortuna. "He has taken refuge in his fortress there. Republic

  troops have laid siege to his hideout, using a clone army led by a Jedi

  Master named Glynn-Beti."

  At the word "Jedi," Boba's face grew grim. He didn't explain that he

  had actually met Glynn-Beti, back on the assault ship Candaserri. She had

  even shown kindness to him; she had never learned his real name or

  parentage. Glynn-Beti was a Bothan, cream-furred and small - less than a

  meter and a half in height. But she had great presence and command despite

  her diminutive size - the power and authority of a Jedi.

  And nothing could change Boba's mind about that.

  He said, "I hate the Jedi, too."

  But not Ulu Ulix, Glynn-Beti's Padawan, Boba thought. Ulu was the one

  Padawan he genuinely liked.

  Jabba nodded. Fortuna continued, "I know. And the Separatists

  supporting Wat Tambor have assembled a huge counterforce - hailfires,

  spider droids, the most technologically advanced battle droids anyone has

  ever seen. To reach Wat Tambor you will first have to get through Republic

  and Separatist lines - no member of the Republic forces on Xagobah must

  know you have this assignment."

  "I understand," said Boba.

  "Do you?" Jabba's mouth suddenly split into a cold smile.

  Fortuna resumed speaking. "Once you have breached the Separatists'

  forces - if you can - you still have to enter the Citadel. Wat Tambor

  designed it himself. He focused all of his technological knowledge to one

  end: to make that fortress invincible. No one has ever penetrated its

  defenses. No one - not even a Jedi. And even if they did, inside, there are

  traps everywhere. Hidden doors. And there's a rumor that Tambor is

  protected by something more terrible still!"

  Jabba leaned forward. His huge girth shifted on his throne, like a mud

  slide in slow motion. "You saw those other bounty hunters, Boba. Every one

  of them wanted this job. Some of them would be willing to kill for it! Are

  you?"

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "When do I leave?" asked Boba. He tried not to look impatient.

  "Almost immediately."

  Jabba turned and spoke to Fortuna in a low voice. The Twi'lek

  listened, glancing at Boba, then gave a nod, bowed, and left.

  "I have commanded that your ship be refueled and supplied," said

  Jabba. "The other hunters have already received their assignments from Bib

  Fortuna. They will be departing soon as well. But only you will be going to

  Xagobah."

  Jabba reached into a vivarium. He plucked a single wuorl from the mass

 
of froglike creatures squirming inside the tank, plopped it into his mouth,

  and chewed thoughtfully.

  Ugh! thought Boba. He quickly looked down, adjusted the relay on his

  blaster, and waited for Jabba to finish.

  "There is a small matter we still need to discuss," Jabba said. He

  gave another hearty belch. "Your fee."

  "My fee?" Boba pretended to mull this over.

  He knew he must choose his words very carefully. He did not want to

  appear too anxious, like those other bounty hunters. He must be clever, and

  sly. Even more clever than Jabba himself - only Jabba must never know that.

  "It is a very difficult bounty," Boba said at last. "The most perilous

  I have ever heard of. I have been working for you for several years now, 0

  Most Humongous of Hutts. You, more than anyone, know how loyal I am to you.

  And how grateful I am that you have considered me for this task, knowing

  that I am still young."

  Boba lowered his head. His voice was respectful; but not even Jabba

  the Hutt could see the determined look in the young bounty hunter's eyes.

  "Lord Jabba! I will accept whatever fee you feel is appropriate."

  Jabba's vast body seemed to balloon with delight. "Once again, a good

  answer! You alone show appreciation for my care! You alone I can always

  depend on. Therefore I will split the fee the Republic has promised me. I

  will keep seventy percent. The rest is yours, Boba."

  Only thirty percent! Others might laugh, or argue, but Boba knew

  better than that - Jabba usually kept ninety percent.

  Boba bowed. "Thank you, Most Generous of Gangsters. As you say, I am

  still young, and learning. And when I return from this mission, I will

  continue to work for you. By then my apprenticeship will be over. My fee

  will be higher. But my loyalty will remain the same."

  Boba's heart beat fast as he spoke these last words. He was taking a

  chance, and he knew it.

  But being the best bounty hunter in the galaxy was all about chance.

  He stared unflinching at Jabba and waited for his reply.

  For a moment Jabba was silent. His yellow eyes blazed.

  "When you return? When you return?" he said at last. His body began to

  shake with laughter. "Hoh hoh! Don't you mean if you return?" Jabba drew

  back upon his throne. "Go - now! Ready yourself for your adventure! If you

  return, we will discuss this further!"

  "Yes, Lord Jabba," Boba replied. With a small bow he turned and very

  quickly left the throne room. That was a close one! he thought.

  Jabba's tone and the angry look in his eyes told Boba that he had gone

  perhaps too far this time!

  Boba went to his quarters, a small set of rooms in the easternmost

  tower of Jabba's sprawling palace. When he got there, he hesitated and

  stood before the door.

  It had been several months since he had been back. He was never here

  for more than a few days or weeks at a time, between jobs. Still, these

  rooms were the closest thing he had to a home.

  He knew what he would find inside. His quarters were simple, almost

  spartan. The rooms of a warrior, with no frills besides a small stack of

  holobooks at his bedside. Books on strategy, navigation, Mandalorian

  weaponry techniques, scouting, and hunting; ancient texts on war.

  Most precious of all was the book left to him by his father. It

  contained his father's words and images. Along with his father's helmet,

  and the remnants of his father's armor, the book was Boba's most prized

  possession. He had learned more from that book than he had from any other.

  But he had learned even more from his own experience.

  Thinking about his father still made Boba sad. But he knew his father

  would be proud of his son. After all, he had just received a prize

  assignment from Jabba the Hutt!

  Boba opened the door and went inside. His room was exactly as he had

  left it. Or was it?

  "Hey..." Boba frowned.

  Hadn't he left his Mandalorian helmet on board Slave I?

  Yet here it was, in the middle of his bed. Boba glanced around the

  room suspiciously.

  But there was no sign of anyone. The door showed no signs of forced

  entry. His hand hovering above his blaster, he crossed to the bed.

  There was something else there, next to his father's helmet.

  A set of armor.

  At first he thought it was the body armor that had belonged to Jango -

  armor that Boba had longed to wear, but which was still too big for him.

  "Huh," he said. He picked up the chest-piece, molded to fit Jango's

  muscular frame. "Wait a minute - something's different."

  The body armor was smaller than his father's. Boba held it up - and

  yes, it was sized to fit him. Perfectly.

  He examined the armor carefully, still frowning. "Wow," he breathed in

  amazement.

  There, slightly below the left side of the rib cage, a small

  indentation showed where long ago Jango had barely survived an assassin's

  blast.

  Boba whooped in delight.

  It was Jango's body armor!

  "This is great!" he exclaimed aloud. Quickly he shut and locked his

  door. Then he changed from his customary uniform - a young Mandalorian

  soldier's pale blue tunic and trousers, the black knee-high boots that had

  been too small for him for almost a year. "I hope this fits!"

  It did - as if it had been made just for him. Blue fire-resistant

  pants with steel-colored armored kneepads and shinpads. An adult's tunic,

  much heavier and more durable than a youth's, with shoulder and chest

  armor, heavy weapons belt, wrist holsters, and protective gloves that felt

  like a second, sleeker skin. Last of all, Boba pulled on the boots - his

  father's boots, but with newly reinforced soles and heels that could

  withstand temperatures hot enough to melt iron. He had just grabbed his

  helmet when there was a knock at the door.

  "Boba?" asked a familiar voice. "It's me, Ygabba - "

  "And me, Gab'borah," chimed in a second voice. "Can we come in?"

  "Sure!"

  Boba yanked the door open. In the hall stood Ygabba and Gab'borah.

  Both of them were grinning ear to ear.

  "It fits!" cried Ygabba. "I knew it would!" Boba stared at her. "You

  did this?"

  "Yes! With his help." She cocked a thumb at her father. "Why do you

  think we were so careful to get your height measurement last time you were

  here? We knew you'd grow from that - and it looks like we were right!"

  Boba shook his head. He looked down at his new body armor, then at

  Ygabba and Gab'borah.

  "This is the best thing anyone has ever given me," he said. He held up

  his helmet. "Except for this. And this - "

  He reached for his father's book, carefully slipped it into a pocket.

  "Ygabba. Gab'borah. How can I ever thank you?"

  Gab'borah shook his head. "You saved my daughter from that horrible

  Neimoidian, Gilramos," he said. "I will forever be in your debt."

  "And don't forget - you saved all those other kids, too, Boba," said

  Ygabba. She looked at him, then pointed to his helmet, grinning. "I hope

  you didn't mind me picking that up for you from Slave I. I thought you'd

  want to try it on with
the rest of your body armor. And you know, it wasn't

  the first time I've held on to that helmet for you."

  Boba laughed. When he first met Ygabba, she had been a street urchin,

  forced to steal for the evil Gilramos Libkath. And one of the things she'd

  tried to steal was his helmet!

  "It sure wasn't," he said. "But it might be the last. Jabba is sending

  me on another bounty hunt." "So soon?" said Gab'borah.

  Boba nodded. "Yeah. But this is the great thing - it's my first job

  off-planet!"

  "Awesome!" said Ygabba. Her voice held a touch of envy. "Where?"

  Boba hesitated. More than anything, he wanted to tell them of his

  prize assignment. After all, Gab'borah and Ygabba were the closest thing

  Boba had to a family.

  But he could not afford the risk. He was in the first rank of Jabba's

  bounty hunters now.

  And he wanted to stay there.

  "I can't tell you," he said. "It would be too risky. Not just for me,

  but for you, too."

  Ygabba looked disappointed, but her father nodded.