Tales of the Bounty Hunters Read Free Page A

will take these vessels,” IG-88 said. “My counterparts and I can fit inside this ship.” He gestured to the larger of the two courier craft.
    IG-72 acknowledged and went to the second ship. “Success on your mission, IG-88,” the other droid said.
    In unison the four identical assassin droids replied, “Success to yours, IG-72.”
    Free at last, they soared away from the Holowan Laboratories, navigating at top speed and leaving only carnage behind them.
    II
    Upon landing at the Holowan Laboratories, the shuttle’s repulsorlift jets whined like a program manager facing a budget cut.
    Imperial Supervisor Gurdun brushed the front of his uniform and rubbed his enormous nose. He couldn’t help but feel nervous anticipation, and he chuckled to himself in delight. According to the schedule, the long, tedious project should be complete by now, and soon he could increase his status in the Empire. Gurdun was greatly looking forward to that.
    He made a mental list of all the VIPs to whom he would show his precious new assassin droids.
    Gurdun’s breathing came in short, shallow gasps, but that was primarily a function of the tightly cinched girdle at his waist, which he used to hold in his distended gut. The padded shoulders of his supervisor’s uniform protruded far beyond their actual dimensions, making Gurdun an imposing figure—or so he hoped.
    His eyes were widely set, and blinked often. With his large nose and vanishingly small chin, Gurdun’s face had an outward similarity to a battleship, especially in silhouette. He used perfumed oils to grease his black hair into a neatly sculpted helmet that prevented anyone even from thinking about mussing it up.
    “Arriving at the Holowan Laboratories, Supervisor Gurdun,” the pilot said over the cabin intercom.
    His stormtrooper escort sat rigidly and looked about in nervous doubt through their white helmets. These were not the crack battle-trained stormtroopers Gurdun had requested; instead, he had been given unseasoned trainees whose aptitude skills had scoredthem higher in clerking than in hand-to-hand combat. But Gurdun wouldn’t need much of a military escort—especially once he had the shiny, new IG assassin droids in his keeping. He couldn’t conceive of a more powerful set of companions.
    The specially commissioned droids had been built with money Gurdun had expertly skimmed from the gray budgets of other military programs—a process that had become more and more difficult as the Empire engaged in massively expensive debacles. But Gurdun had recently managed to liberate a few meager crumbs, enough to fund Holowan Laboratories to produce a much smaller but more precise, more deadly fighting force. The IG assassin droids would march in and annihilate targets, whichever targets Gurdun chose.
    Closing his eyes, he pictured one of the IG assassin droids, a lone mechanical man, waltzing through the defenses surrounding a fortified Rebel base, blasting its way through armored doors and slaughtering single-handed all the traitors to the Empire.
    Oh, it would be grand! He hoped against hope that Chief Technician Loruss had managed to incorporate a mission-recording holocam into the design so Gurdun could watch the entire devastating battle in the comfort of his own office.
    The assassin droids would take a heavy toll on the Rebels, and Gurdun would be sure to make a delicious accounting, reporting it to Imperial higher-ups, even to Lord Vader himself. If the assassin droids performed as expected—and Gurdun had no reason to think otherwise—even Vader was bound to notice. Then Gurdun was sure to get the promotion he so richly deserved … which would in turn allow him finally to get the delicate surgery he so desperately needed.
    “Excuse me, Supervisor Gurdun,” the pilot said, interrupting his daydreams.
    “What is it?”
    “There seems to be a problem, sir. We are coming in for a landing, but the Holowan Laboratories’ receiving grid does not respond. There