Star Wars_ Tales of the Bounty Hunters - Kevin J. Anderson [20]
“Bounty hunters,” the human known as Admiral Piett muttered in low tones, presuming he was out of earshot of the gathered bounty hunters. “We don’t need that scum!”
“Yes, sir,” his companion said.
IG-88 knew that the Imperials were doubly uneasy because of the well-known “dismantle on sight” order for the assassin droid. But Vader had blatantly ignored that, in hopes of securing his precious captives.
“Those Rebels won’t escape us.”
Bossk, a reptilian Trandoshan with claws on his scaled feet and hands, spoke down at Admiral Piett in a mixture of growl, gargle, and hiss. He too had heard the human’s snide comment. Piett flinched and turned away.
“Sir, we have a priority signal from the Star Destroyer Avenger,” another of the uniformed biologicals said.
“Right,” Piett said, marching away.
The other bounty hunters stood nearby, each posturing in his own way. Closest was Dengar, a slouching, surly-faced humanoid with his head wrapped in bandages, holding a heavy weapon. Side by side were Zuckuss and 4-LOM. Zuckuss was a Gand, some kind of organic creature who did not breathe the same atmosphere these humans did, and thus wore a rebreather mask with tubes and gas jets directed into his lungs. His protective suit made him look bulky and unwieldy.
In contrast, his droid companion 4-LOM seemed sleek and insectile, independent and efficient. IG-88 studied the black droid, considering whether to recruit him for the coming revolution … but decided against it. He didn’t dare take the risk that a loose cannon like 4-LOM might give away IG-88’s carefully laid plans.
Last stood Boba Fett, wearing battered Mandalorian armor and an impenetrable helmet. He looked like a droid, but moved like a human—to his disadvantage.
Demanding IG-88’s entire attention, though, was the black-caped form of Darth Vader who strode along the upper deck, inspecting the bounty hunters.
“There will be a substantial reward for the one who finds the Millennium Falcon,” Vader said. “You are free to use any methods necessary—but I want them alive.” He pointed to Boba Fett as if the armored human were the biggest threat. “No disintegrations.”
“As you wish,” Boba Fett said in a grating voice.
IG-88 heard the information, but devoted his attention to analyzing the way Darth Vader moved, studying his tonal inflections in between hisses of his respirator. Vader was far more interesting than any bounty hunter—but IG-88 had to maintain the charade.
“Lord Vader!” Admiral Piett exclaimed. “My lord, we have them!”
The Executor lurched into pursuit, and the gathered bounty hunters exhibited a visible slump of disappointment … but the Imperials were overconfident organic fools, and they would no doubt lose their quarry again in moments.
IG-88 had other concerns. He did not care about Han Solo, or the Millennium Falcon, or the Rebellion, or the Empire. All would be … deleted soon. But he did have his burgeoning reputation as a bounty hunter, and he had accepted this assignment, even if it was just a ploy. Once agreeing to take an assignment, IG-88 had no choice but to finish it, according to his core programming as an assassin droid—even if he didn’t give it his full priority.
As the other bounty hunters rushed to where they could receive supplemental information on the quarry, IG-88 dropped back into one of the corridors of the Executor. He stopped a small courier droid wheeling past on its urgent business. IG-88 sent a tiny binary pulse and discovered—as he had suspected—that this courier droid had been manufactured at Mechis III after the droid takeover. Its special programming allowed IG-88 to preempt its human-given commands and to follow the wishes of its master.
IG-88 withdrew a set of ultra-small microtracers, tiny smart trackers that could be placed invisibly on any ship. With a burst