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Zusatztext A ruthless enemy threatens Boba Fett with a fate worse than death. . . Informationen zum Autor K.W. Jeter Klappentext He's both feared and admired, respected and despised. Boba Fett is the galaxy's most successful bounty hunter. Now he finds himself the hunted in the oldest game of all: survival of the fittest. The once powerful Bounty Hunter's Guild has been shattered into warring factions. Now the posting of an enormous bounty on a renegade Imperial stormtrooper is about to start a frenzy of murderous greed. Hoping to fuel rumors of his death, Boba Fett abandons his ship, Slave I, and sets out to claim the prize. Yet his every move leads him closer to a trap set by the cunning Prince Xizor. Fett will die before becoming Xizor's pawn in the Emperor's war against the Rebels. And he may have to. For in order to gain his freedom he must outwit a sentient weapon that feeds on human spirits. Then he must escape a galaxy of deadly enemies who want to make the rumors of his death a reality. Leseprobe NOW . . . (during the events of Star Wars: Return of the Jedi) Fear is a useful thing. That was one of the best lessons that a bounty hunter could learn. And Bossk was learning it now. Through the cockpit viewport of the Hound's Tooth, he saw the explosion that ripped the other ship, Boba Fett's Slave I, into flame and shards of blackened durasteel. A burst of wide-band comlink static, like an electromagnetic death cry, had simultaneously deafened Bossk. The searing, multi-octave noise had poured through the speakers in the Hound 's cockpit for several minutes, until the last of the circuitry aboard Fett's ship had finally been consumed and silenced in the fiery apocalypse. When he could finally hear himself think again, Bossk looked out at the empty space where Slave I had been. Now, against the cold backdrop of stars, a few scraps of heated metal slowly dwindled from white-hot to dull red as their molten heat ebbed away in vacuum. He's dead, thought Bossk with immense satisfaction. At last. Whatever atoms had constituted the late Boba Fett, they were also drifting disconnected and harmless in space. Before transferring back here to his own ship, Bossk had wired up enough thermal explosives in Slave I to reduce any living thing aboard it to mere ash and bad memories. So if he still felt afraid, if his gut still knotted when Boba Fett's dark-visored image rose in his thoughts, Bossk knew that was an irrational response. He's dead, he's gone . . . The silence of the Hound 's cockpit was broken by a barely audible pinging signal from the control panel. Bossk glanced down and saw that the Hound 's telesponder had picked up the presence of another ship in the immediate vicinity; according to the coordinates that appeared in the readout screen, it was almost on top of the Hound's Tooth . And--it was the ship known as Slave I . The ID profile was an exact match. That's impossible, thought Bossk, bewildered. His heart shuddered to a halt inside his chest, then staggered on. Before the explosion, he had picked up the same ID profile from the other side of his own ship; he had turned the Hound's Tooth around just in time to see the huge, churning ball of flame fill his viewscreen. But, he realized now, he hadn't seen Slave I itself. Which meant . . . Bossk heard another sound, even softer, coming from somewhere else in his own ship. There was someone else aboard it; his keen Trandoshan senses registered the molecules of another creature's spoor in the ship's recycled atmosphere. And Bossk knew who it was. He's here. The cold blood in Bossk's veins chilled to ice. Boba Fett . . . Somehow, Bossk knew, he had been tricked. The expl...
