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Zusatztext A ruthless enemy threatens Boba Fett with a fate worse than death. . . Informationen zum Autor K.W. Jeter Klappentext Boba Fett fears only one enemy--the one he cannot see.... Feared and admired, respected and despised, Boba Fett enjoys a dubious reputation as the galaxy's most successful bounty hunter. Yet even a man like Boba Fett can have one too many enemies.... When Boba Fett stumbles across evidence implicating Prince Xizor in the murder of Luke Skywalker's aunt and uncle, Fett makes himself an enemy even he fears: the unknown mastermind behind a monstrous deception, who will kill to hide his tracks. Fett also finds himself in possession of an amnesiac young woman named Neelah, who may be the key to the mystery--or a decoy leading Fett into a murderous ambush. Fett's last hope is to run through the list of Xizor's hidden enemies. And since Xizor's hidden enemies are almost as legion as Fett's, the chance of survival is slim--even for someone as skilled and relentless as Boba Fett. © 1999 Lucasfilm Ltd. and TM. All rights reserved. Used under authorization. Leseprobe NOW . . . (during the events of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi ) Two bounty hunters sat in a bar, talking. "Things aren't what they used to be," said Zuckuss morosely. As a member of one of the ammonia-breathing species of his homeworld Gand, he had to be careful in establishments such as this. Intoxicants and stimulants that produced feelings of well-being in other creatures often evoked a profound melancholy in him. Even in a high-class place that supposedly catered to all known physiologies--the soothing, programmed play of lights across the columned walls, the shifting spectra that were supposed to relax weary travelers' central nervous systems, struck Zuckuss as crepuscular and depressing as the faded hopes of his youth. I had ambitions once, he told himself, leaning over the tall, blue-tinged glass in front of him. Big ones. Where had they gone? "I wouldn't know," said Zuckuss's companion. The droid bounty hunter 4-LOM sat across from him, an untouched drink--perhaps only water--in front of him. A mere formality: the drink had been taken away twice already and replaced with exactly the same thing, so the charges could be rung up on 4-LOM's tab. That was the only way that nonimbibing constructs such as droids could make themselves welcome in any kind of watering hole. "Your attitude," continued 4-LOM, "implies a value judgment on your part. That is, that things were better at one time than they are now. I don't make those kinds of judgments. I merely deal with things as they are." You would, thought Zuckuss. This was what he got for hooking up with a cold-blooded--cold-circuited, at least--creature like 4-LOM. There were plenty of excitable droids in the galaxy--Zuckuss had run into a few--but the ones that were attracted to the bounty hunter trade all shared the same vibroblade-edged logic and absolute-zero emotional tone. They hunted, and killed when necessary, without even the tiniest acceleration of electrons along their inner connectors. The bar's soft, dirgelike background music--it was supposed to be soothing as well, with harmonic overtones of almost narcotic languor--made Zuckuss think of his previous partner Bossk. The Trandoshan bounty hunter had been cold-blooded, literally so, but one would never have guessed it from the way he'd carried on. "Now that," said Zuckuss with a slow, emphatic nod, "that was real bounty hunting. That had some passion to it. Real excitement." He extended the retractable pipette from the lower part of his face mask and sucked up another swallow of the drink, though he knew it would only deepen and darken his mood. "We had some good times together, me and Bossk . . ." "That wasn't what you said when you agreed to become partners with me once more." 4-LOM's photo-optical rec...
