Star Wars_ Boba Fett 06_ Pursuit - Elizabeth Hand [2]
"Wat Tambor will be departing shortly," one of the droids stated in its flat voice. "He wished to be informed when the spy was disposed of."
"Disposal is imminent," the other droid replied.
Boba stared through his helmet's visor as the droids carried him the last few steps to their destination. They were in a large, nearly airless room, devoid of any equipment or furnishings. A few meters away shone an incandescent square of light, blinding and seemingly as hot as the sun. Heat radiated from it in shimmering waves. A conveyor belt, the room's sole machinery, moved slowly toward the incinerator's opening.
Talk about too hot to handle, thought Boba. Sweat trickled down his face, stinging his eyes. He couldn't move to wipe it away. Beneath him, the droids stopped. Their servogrips remained in place, holding Boba above their heads. He took a deep breath, then tightened his muscles until his body went taut.
Have to risk it - hope they don't notice!
The droids remained oblivious. In front of them the conveyor belt moved slowly, steadily, toward the incinerator.
And now Boba could see other shapes on it. Mangled knots of metal and plasteel, all that remained of damaged droids, and - shocking Boba -
lifeless bundles of body armor, flesh, and charred weaponry.
Clones, he thought, and felt a stab of mingled pity and horror.
Helmets covered their faces, but Boba knew what he would see if their body armor was removed
His father Jango's face. His own face... for Jango had been the template from which all the clones had been built. Including Boba, the only unaltered clone.
"Shall we retain its armor and helmet?" One of the droids asked as it hoisted Boba. Its servogrip tugged at his weapons belt. "These are not organic. They are of fine quality."
You bet they are! Boba gritted his teeth. It took every bit of willpower to keep from lunging at the droids now; but their hold on him was still too strong. Gotta wait till the last possible moment...
"Our orders were to dispose of it completely," the second droid stated. "It is time we returned and gave our report."
The first droid's servogrip retracted. Boba allowed himself a silent sigh of relief. He felt himself being lifted higher, until he was poised directly above the conveyor belt. The incinerator's mouth was close enough that he could feel its heat through his reinforced boots. He stared down and watched as the conveyor brought one of the lifeless clones to the furnace's opening. For an instant the gray-clad form seemed to hang in the air, silhouetted black against white-gold flames. There was a flare of scarlet, a thread of black smoke - and it was gone.
Nothing can withstand that heat! Boba took a deep breath. The air was so hot it was like inhaling molten lava.
Boba thought of all the things he hadn't done yet. The vows he had made: to become the greatest bounty hunter the galaxy had ever known, and to seek revenge on the Jedi who had killed Jango Fett.
He vowed once more to see these things through. "Ready," one of the droids said.
"Ready," agreed its partner. Without a sound, they flung Boba toward the belt.
For a moment he hung in the air, limp as the dead things beneath him. Then with a wordless shout Boba straightened, launching himself toward the droids. With a satisfying thunk! his boots connected with the droids' heads. They went sprawling, and Boba landed behind them before they could recover.
Good thing these worker droids are unarmed.
"Alert Wat Tambor!"
one
of
them
commanded.
Its
insectoid photoreceptors flashed from green to red as they surveyed Boba. "There has been a breach on Level Three. Organic matter has reanimated. Request backup immedi - "
"That's your last request!" Boba yelled.
He drew his blaster, staggering slightly. Still unsteady from that toxin! He caught himself, leveling a charge that sent the first droid