Star Wars_ Tales of the Bounty Hunters - Kevin J. Anderson [12]
The probe scow was a barely functional conglomeration of obsolete parts and scavenged engines. Due to budget limitations, the Imperials’ spies were often the cheapest, such as this Ranat—not the most intelligent of creatures. As she approached Mechis III in her sputtering ship, the Ranat beamed a recorded set of questions down to the last known supervisor on the planet, Hekis Durumm Perdo Kolokk Baldikarr Thun.
Threedee-Fourex, with the superior foresight allotted him by his new sentience programming, had played appropriate snatches of doctored video images showing Administrator Hekis brusquely answering all questions. No, they had not seen any assassin droids. No, they had no knowledge of any IG-88 series machines. No, they had heard nothing of rampaging renegades in this portion of the system—and, by the way, they were too busy on Mechis III to continue answering stupid questions. Unsuspecting, the Ranat had continued on her way to the next system, where she would no doubt play the same set of prerecorded questions.
IG-88C assimilated this report and commended Threedee-Fourex’s ingenuity in the unexpected situation, but the encounter raised serious questions. The trail had accidentally led an Imperial investigator here. What if the next one were a more suspicious or more tenacious intelligence operative?
IG-88C initiated a spontaneous uplink with his three counterparts, and they engaged in a lightspeed interlinked conference. “We cannot allow ourselves to be detected. Our plans are at too crucial a stage right now.”
“Perhaps this was only a fluke. Perhaps we need not worry. The Imperials will listen to the report from the spy and not investigate further.”
“On the contrary, once they’ve started nosing around in this sector, they may tighten their scrutiny.”
“How can we deal with this situation?”
“Perhaps a diversionary tactic is called for.”
“How can we apply this diversionary tactic?”
“We will make ourselves visible. One of us will go out and leave a plain trail, far from Mechis III. We will give them a different scent to follow. They will never come here again.”
“And the nature of this diversionary tactic?” one asked, but all the IG-88s began to have the same idea at once.
“We shall follow our true programming.”
“We are assassin droids.”
“We shall seek out work as a bounty hunter. This is what we were made for—and it can also further our grander purposes.”
“We will find this most enjoyable, and no doubt our employers will be immensely pleased with our service and will recommend us highly, should we choose to continue this line of occupation.”
All four IG-88s mulled over this change in plans and agreed.
“Bounty hunters it is.”
V
IG-88B was chosen for the first mission. He was pleased and elated, and his duplicates would share his experience files when he came back. It would be as if all four of them had gone out on the hunt themselves.
The industrial facilities of Mechis III took two days to design and produce a sleek bounty hunter’s craft for IG-88B. Seeing through various portions of the spectrum, he admired the IG-2000’s perfect lines: powerful engines, thick armor, and every appropriate weapons system. IG-88B cruised away through the atmosphere, leaving the other three assassin droids to continue their plans for overthrowing the galaxy.
Though IG-88 carried the ominous-sounding “dismantle on sight” Imperial order next to his name, he doubted anyone would attempt to follow it. He focused on places unlikely to be overly respectful to Imperial laws—or any other kind of laws, for that matter. He knew his capabilities were obvious, and he clomped his several-metric-ton body frame into cantinas and announced, “I am a bounty hunter. I wish to find work for a reasonable fee. I am incapable of failing in my mission.”
Most people were afraid to talk