Delusions of Grandeur

10

In flight, Zekk spent days studying the Bounty Hunter’s Creed, memorizing its rules and practices as he wrestled with conflicting thoughts. He had so many questions, and so much to learn.

It seemed impossible to reconcile the desire to capture Bornan Thul with the fact that he had accepted an assignment from him, regardless of the fact that Thul had been disguised at the time. Zekk also remembered that in the rubble field of Alderaan he had promised to give Jaina any news of the missing man who was Raynar’s father….

Of all the hunters in the galaxy—Dengar and Boba Fett and a thousand others who were scouring the starlanes—he alone knew where Bornan Thul could be found. He had a meeting scheduled with his mysterious employer in less than a week, to tell him of his progress. At that rendezvous, Zekk could easily set a trap, deliver Thul to Nolaa Tarkona, and reap the fame and extravagant reward. How could he pass up such an opportunity?

But betraying his own employer would forever blacklist Zekk among bounty hunters. No one would trust him for the rest of his life. Jaina and Jacen would be angry with him, too. His situation seemed untenable.

He pondered the question while mulling over where to begin searching for Tyko Thul, the other half of the assignment he had accepted. Could he somehow take both bounty hunting assignments— find and bring back both brothers? Or would he have to make a choice? No matter how long he drifted in the Lightning Rod, he wouldn’t resolve his dilemma by himself.

He remembered hearing that Boba Fett had recently turned up on Tatooine in his own relentless search for Bornan Thul, and came to a decision. Since he was in the same sector, Zekk would go to meet the fearsome hunter who had proved an uneasy ally on the plague-ridden colony of Gammalin….

Fighting thermal updrafts, Zekk cruised under the harsh double suns down to the broiling city of Mos Eisley, the hub of civilization (such as it was) on this backwater world. Below him, the spaceport’s towers and low adobe structures shimmered in the afternoon haze.

Zekk requested clearance and transferred credits for a temporary berth in one of the low-rent docking stalls in the busy traders’ district. After he landed, he shut down his ship’s systems and activated the theft-prevention devices old Peckhum had installed … though the best deterrent had always been the Lightning Rod’s own battered appearance, which did not speak well for the fortunes of its owner.

Zekk stepped out of the dock only to slam into a wall of heat rising from the dusty streets. He tied his dark hair back in a sweaty ponytail and kept to the shadows of low buildings, seeking relief from the harsh sunlight as he staggered along. He breathed through his sleeve to filter out the worst dust as he looked for the infamous cantina.

The other creatures stirring in Mos Eisley’s afternoon seemed either stunned and lethargic or hurried and anxious to get into the shaded coolness indoors. Zekk, his green eyes stinging, wanted to do the same.

After making his way down narrow back alleys, he entered the noise and smells and blessed air-conditioning of the spaceport bar. The Mos Eisley cantina had a long history and quite a reputation, but little cleanliness or fresh air. In this dark and seedy bar, Luke Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi had first hired Han Solo and Chewbacca for their legendary run to Alderaan.

Boba Fett himself had come here in search of clues to help him ferret out Bornan Thul.

Behind the bar stood a grizzled old Wookiee named Chalmun, who owned the cantina. Other bartenders often took care of the actual work so that Chalmun would not have to mingle with his own disreputable clientele.

Zekk strode up to the bar, trying to look surly and tough, just like everyone else in the place. The old Wookiee snorted, seeing right through the young man’s act, as if he had witnessed these shows of bravado so many times that they no longer impressed him.

Zekk ordered a cold fizzy drink, then lowered his voice. “I’m looking for Boba Fett.”

The furry bartender chuffed with surly laughter. Zekk didn’t understand the Wookiee language very well, and Chalmun gestured toward a small hairy creature propped up on one of the stools.

The creature blinked its huge black eyes and spoke in a squeaking voice. “He laughs at your request,” the creature said. “Boba Fett always looks for other people. No one looks for him.”

“He and I have met before. I need to speak with him, and in return”—Zekk swallowed hard—“I can provide information that may assist him in his current assignment.”

“Boba Fett will be here,” the furry creature said. “Just drink and wait.” The creature took a long snort from a foaming green beaker, swallowed noisily, and said, “But you’d better keep drinking or Chalmun may throw you out into the streets. Hot out there.”

Eavesdropping, the Wookiee laughed and went off to serve other customers….

Zekk waited. The hours passed at a crawl, and he drank as slowly as he could get away with, ordering another beverage only when he saw the old Wookiee scowling at him.

On the bandstand a group of soft-skinned amphibious musicians with multicolored neck frills auditioned for a job. The song sounded like echoing belches made into a sensitive microphone, while “musicians” jangled high-pitched bells at random. On the cramped and dirty dance floor, two aliens that looked like sea urchins with far too many eyes rolled around locked in an embrace—whether dancing or brawling, Zekk couldn’t decide.

He continued waiting. Another hour dragged by.

Boba Fett did not enter the cantina until the light had begun to fade during the first of Tatooine’s twin sunsets.

The band stopped playing, and most of the background noise in the bar dwindled to murmurs. The masked bounty hunter paused in the dimness, swiveling his head back and forth, exuding confidence. Zekk could feel Fett’s gaze burning through the black slit in his Mandalorian helmet.

The bounty hunter saw Zekk and froze, suspicious.

The moment of silence ended, and the band began playing again. Through his peripheral vision Zekk noticed several patrons wince at the resumption of the noise. The two sea-urchin aliens on the dance floor continued tumbling about; they had not stopped even during the brief silence.

The bounty hunter strode up to the bar beside Zekk. Zekk momentarily wondered if the Wookiee bartender would require Fett to buy a drink as well, but Chalmun pointedly remained at the other side of the bar, serving customers who watched the masked hunter with unconcealed anxiety.

Zekk could feel the power, the spring-tight rage and dark energy in this man. Fett had killed an uncounted number of enemies, served no cause, and had at one time worn Wookiee scalps at his belt. Zekk could imagine no glimmer of friendship from this vicious man—but Boba Fett was one of the best bounty hunters in existence. And Zekk needed to learn from him.

Zekk turned, but the bounty hunter spoke first. “What do you want from me? And what do you offer in exchange?”

The young man gathered his courage. “I need advice. If I’m going to be the best bounty hunter, I had better ask questions of the best.”

“Advice?” Fett said dubiously, scornfully. “Nothing is free.”

Zekk sat up straighter. “I have information that may help you find Bornan Thul.” He certainly wouldn’t give away the knowledge of his scheduled rendezvous on Borgo Prime … but he had less-important details to offer. He let the words hang in the air, then added, “I know where another bounty hunter was searching for him. It may give you a clue.”

Boba Fett said, “Many are searching for Thul. Most of them are fools. The value of your information depends on how much I can trust this lead.”

“It’s Dengar,” Zekk said, then squared his shoulders. “I know where Dengar went looking for Bornan Thul.”

Fett paused, as silent as a statue. “Dengar is … not a fool.” The bandage-wrapped hunter had rescued a grievously injured Boba Fett after he blasted his way free from the sarlacc in the Pit of Carkoon. “What do you need?”

“Listen to this problem,” Zekk said. “I’m new to being a bounty hunter, and this is a hypothetical situation that any of us might run into.”

Fett waited. The alien musicians croaked an announcement that they were taking a break but would be back with more music before long. Only a few inebriated patrons clapped.

“Suppose I accept an assignment—say, to find a lost treasure or a missing document—and in the course of my hunt I stumble upon completely unrelated information that reveals the location of a much larger bounty.”

Fett said, “Then secure both. Keep your honor and make a greater profit.”

Zekk arched his eyebrows. “But what if chasing after the second bounty puts my first employer at risk? In fact, if I find the larger bounty, my original employer will certainly come to great harm.” He paused, hoping he wasn’t giving too much away.

The bounty hunter pondered in silence. “You must not betray your employer. That is one of the worst crimes a bounty hunter can commit.”

“So I just have to give up the second bounty?” Zekk said, somewhat disheartened, though a bit relieved.

“No,” Fett said. “Deliver the first bounty, take payment, and terminate your service with that employer. Then pursue the second bounty with a clear conscience, since you no longer work for the employer who might be harmed.”

Zekk mulled over this answer. He had already discharged half of his assignment by sending the coded message to the Bornaryn merchant fleet. Now, if he could just find Tyko Thul, he would be under no further obligation. From that point on, Zekk would be free to do as he pleased.

Zekk had no idea what Thul had done to warrant such a manhunt or why Nolaa Tarkona wanted him so desperately—but it was clear she primarily wanted his cargo, some mysterious navicomputer module.

Zekk smiled. He could do it. He could do both.

“Now,” Boba Fett said, “tell me where you saw Dengar.”

Zekk told him about Ziost, but gave few other details. Then the two of them hurried away from the Mos Eisley cantina, parting without any word of farewell to return to their respective ships.