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Dengar got to his feet and scanned across the low hills; tilting his head
back, he searched the cloudless sky, sun glare almost blinding him. There was
no sign of any ships. The bombing raid that had left the desert wasteland
cratered and scorched seemed effectively over, its perpetrators having removed
themselves beyond the atmosphere of Tatooine. Though by this point, if they
had returned, Dengar didn't feel capable of anything other than flopping on
the ground and letting the explosive charges finish him off.
He walked over to the other two. Boba Fett lay on his back, eyes closed; the
only indication of life was the slow rise and fall of his chest. Whatever
strength had been left in him was enough for basic respiratory functions, and
nothing else.
"How are you doing?" Dengar's shadow fell across
Neelah's face.
She nodded slowly. "I'm okay." With the back of a begrimed hand, Neelah pushed
her sweat-damp hair away from her eyes; the motion left a black smear across
her face. She sat up and drew her knees toward her breast so she could examine
the ankle that had been pinned beneath the weight of the Sarlacc segment. A
wince drew her eyes shut for a second as she poked at the bruised flesh.
"Nothing's broken, I don't think." Leaning against Dengar for balance, she
stood upright and gingerly put her weight on the leg. "Yeah, it's all right."
A voice sounded out of the hole from which they had just escaped. "Given the
circumstances I have just observed," called SHSl-B loudly, "I would anticipate
that medical attention is required by all parties in the immediate vicinity.
Plus, the patient we had previously been attending is undoubtedly in need of-"
The hectoring comments were cut short when Neelah picked up a rock and tossed
it down the hole. It clanked against metal and plastoid, rendering the medical
droid silent for a moment.
"I'm not going back down there," announced Neelah.
"I've had enough time on that line already."
Dengar gave a weary sigh. As always, he supposed it was up to him. The medical
droids still had their uses-for one, SHSl-B had been obviously right about
Boba
Fett needing some further attention, especially after what had been drained
out of him underneath the Dune
Sea's surface. And there were the various supplies-bits and pieces; not
much-that he and Neelah had managed to carry with them from the hiding place.
Those would un doubtedly come in handy, given their present exposed situation.
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"All right," said Dengar. He looked around for the nearest boulder to which to
fasten the line. "But when I
get done, you're both going to owe me. Big time."
"Don't worry about that." Neelah smiled up at him.
"You'll get all the rewards that're coming to you."
He wasn't sure what that meant. Even as he was clambering back down the
escape-route hole, the strap of the lantern clenched in his teeth, he was
wondering whether those rewards would be a good or bad thing, when they
finally got to him.
All that noise had upset the felinx; it trembled in
Kuat of Kuat's arms as he stroked its silken fur. "There, there," he soothed
the frightened animal. "It's all over now. You have nothing to worry about."
That was the difference between creatures such as the felinx and the galaxy's
sentient inhabitants. "Go to sleep, and dream whatever you want." He stood at
the great viewport of the
Kuat Drive Yards' flagship, watching the mottled sphere of the planet Tatooine
dwindle in the distance, a clump of dirt among the hard, cold stars. A good
part of that dirt was now in considerably more battered condition than before;
the military squadron that had pounded the surface of the Dune Sea to dust was
already en route, heading back to Kuat by a circuitous route, jumping in and
out of hyperspace to foil any possible attempts at tracking and linking them
to the just-concluded bombing raid on Tatooine. All insignia and
identification beacons had been carefully stripped from the vessels before
they had left on their mission. W hen word of the raid filtered through the
watering holes and back alleys of Mos Eisley, and any corresponding places on
other worlds, the specu lation would most likely be directed toward the Empire
or possibly the Black Sun organization. That notion pleased
Kuat of Kuat as he scratched behind the sighing felinx's ears. We move in
secret ways, mused Kuat. The better to reach our destination . . .
The even more pleasing notion was that Boba Fett had reached his final
destination. That had been the whole point of the bombing raid. Reports of the
bounty hunter's death had already reached Kuat of Kuat; many other sentient
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