Star Wars_ Tales of the Bounty Hunters - Kevin J. Anderson [83]
Finally, he wired the small obah gas dispenser into the Pup’s ventilation system. Unlike the benign serum he had tranquilized Chenlambec and Tinian with, obah gas caused permanent nerve disability in creatures smaller than Wookiees or Trandoshans. It would render Chenlambec helpless, with his prize pelt intact … but it would cripple Tinian.
She traveled with a Wookiee. She knew she risked exposure to Wookiee-disabling agents. At any rate, the small bounty offered on her didn’t specify “alive” or “undamaged.”
He ran a swift check of the scout ship. He had told them to disable the colony’s defenses. Immediately after they launched the flame carpet and realized what they had done, he would gas them. The Hound would then remotely guide the Pup into high orbit, where it would be easy to pick up after Bossk laid the Falcon crew low.
That would be tricky, putting down a crew that included both humans and a Wookiee but leaving all unharmed. He didn’t dare risk Lord Darth Vader’s wrath. “ExTen-Dee,” he ordered, “charge six injector missiles with mekebve spores. I want them loaded in tube number three of the Hound.”
Most mammalian species suffered severe allergic reactions to mekebve pollen, but reptiles did not. That would incapacitate Solo and his shipmates long enough for Bossk to board and capture.
But the pollen was fifty years old, according to the Nalrithian dealer who’d sold it to him. If the Nalrithian lied, it could be much older. Was it still potent?
He could easily perform an entertaining test. “Once you’ve packed the injector missiles, put two grams of pollen into the Hound’s ventilation system.”
X10-D swiveled and rolled away.
As 1435 Standard hours approached, Tinian stared at the display board. It wasn’t too late to implement Plan Two. Come on, Flirt. Finish the job. The little droid still nestled under the navicomputer, running permutations into the Hound’s failsafes. Maybe he had too many lockouts to juggle. Maybe he just kept outsmarting her. While they stayed locked in their game, the burden fell on Chen and Tinian.
On schedule, a message appeared. GOVERNOR 10 DESNAND’S OFFICE TO INFORMANT, it read. UNAUTHORIZED PELT BAITING AT LOMABU III IS SUBJECT TO SEVERE PENALTY. WE WILL PAY FORTY THOUSAND CREDITS FOR IMMEDIATE LIVE DELIVERY OF TRANDOSHAN BOUNTY HUNTER.
Vader offered 800,000 for the Falcon’s crew … but 40,000 was nothing to sneeze at.
Tinian bent low. “Flirt, we’ve got a bounty offer. Are you inside yet?”
After a few seconds, Flirt piped, “I’m still trying—”
Abruptly the bridge lights flickered off. Tinian sprang to her feet.
“Bossk just switched off all lighting in your wavelength range,” Flirt exclaimed.
“You stay put,” Tinian murmured. “And keep trying. Trap him in a meat locker, if you can—” She sneezed delicately, then harder. A third sneeze followed.
What was going on?
She groped out of the pitch-dark command bridge and into the passageway. Each breath grew more difficult. Her eyes stung. She squeezed them shut. Tears streamed out around her eyelids and trickled into her mouth.
Bossk flicked a comlink control. He could see perfectly by his infrared lamps. “Tinian, Chenlambec, are you all right? I’ve had a malfunction in one of my failsafes. Stay where you are. I’ll be with you momentarily.”
Good. The pollen was still allergenic. Eagerly he marched up the corridor.
He found Tinian in the passage, crouched near the door of their cabin. She held both hands pressed over her face and stifled a vehement sneeze. “Are you all right?” he asked. “I’m terribly sorry. This system was designed to disable escaped acquisitions.”
She looked messy. Her nose and eyes poured fluid. “No.” She gulped and swallowed. “I’m not all right.”
Very amusing. “It will