momentarily stunned.
"Yes!" crowed Boba.
He could see his own reflection mirrored in viewscreens across the
chamber, tall and powerful. For an instant it seemed that the bodyguards
might be taken aback as well.
"It is indeed Durge," one said in its cold robotic voice.
Grievous turned his horrible eyes upon Wat Tam-bor. "You said it was a
Mandalorian warrior," he said.
Wat Tambor looked at him. "He must have brought reinforcements," he
replied.
"It is no matter," said Grievous.
Boba sent another bolt flying from the ion stunner at the bodyguards.
Then he turned and started racing for the door.
The holoshroud's illusion would last for only two minutes. How much
time was left? Enough to make the bodyguards hesitate before attacking him
again?
Everything around him was a glowing blur as he ran for the arch. If he
could only escape from this chamber, he could hide within the citadel. He
already had a plan for utilizing those tentacles to capture Wat Tambor. If
only he could -
Vvvvvvmmmmmm...
The hum from the holoshroud's power cell suddenly grew silent. Around
Boba, the veil of Durge's image flickered into pixels of color. For a
second he could see himself clearly, as the others had seen him: not Boba
but Durge, his mighty arm raised to fire, Boba's weapon shrouded in the
image of Durge's own blaster.
Then the holoshroud's illusion was gone. The power cell had run out.
And so had Boba's luck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"That is him! The intruder!"
Wat Tambor's voice rang out like a clear bell. Boba watched as
Grievous and his two bodyguards turned to stare at him.
"You are not Durge, as I suspected." Grievous's voice was cold, with
no trace of human emotion. "But you will die all the same!"
He lifted his arm. Before Boba could move, Grievous gave a command. A
bodyguards. It struck Boba in the chest and he fell, another piece of his
father's armor smoking and cracked.
"Get him," commanded Grievous.
The droid bodyguards sprang forward. But Boba's body armor had
absorbed the blow's impact. He rolled to one side, struggling to his feet
and backing against the wall.
"You won't take me!" he yelled.
"Maybe not alive," said Wat Tambor calmly. "But dead will suit us just
as well."
The droids stalked toward Boba. He grasped a blaster in each of his
hands and raised them. He waited until the droids were just meters from
him. Then, ducking, he fired and darted to one side.
KABLOWWW!
The blasts bounced harmlessly from the droids. They swiveled, firing
in staccato bursts. Boba fired back.
KABLAAM!
He inched along the wall, blasters flaming. If I can just reach the
door, he thought desperately.
There was another blast of power from the droids. Right above Boba's
head the wall fragmented. He took advantage of the cloud of splintered
metal and mushroom ooze, and ran.
Beside him fresher, cooler air streamed from the dimness - the tunnel.
Boba made for it, his breath coming in short, deep bursts as he ran. He
could hear the clack of the droids' measured footsteps behind him. He could
imagine their arms raised, and that terrible, cloaked figure watching
Don't think! Move!
He dove for the entrance. Cool air embraced him, and blessed darkness.
His feet touched the now-familiar, slimy surface. Before him stretched the
passage. Just up ahead it divided.
If I can make that fork, I can lose them, Boba thought. His heart
strained as he raced toward it. If I can just
Searing pain tore through him.
Boba cried out in agony.
He struggled a few steps more.
He fell.
"So," an icy voice echoed through the tunnel "Now I see you as you
truly are."
On the ground, Boba writhed, trying to reach his blaster and turning
to look behind him. Above him the cloaked figure of General Grievous loomed
into view - and in one hand it now gripped a lightsaber glowing in the
haze.
How could this be? Was the general a Jedi?!
Grievous's eyes were yellow orbs within a skeletal, silvery mask.
Behind him stood Wat Tambor, flanked by the droid bodyguards.
"Not that it matters," the icy voice continued. Grievous's other hand
slid from the folds of his cape and then emerged with a second lightsaber
ignited. "Because you are going to die now."
Boba struggled vainly to reach his weaponsbelt. Pain lanced through
him, as though flames ran through his veins. He fell back.
"It looks as though he is in death convulsions already," said Wat
Tambor.
And suddenly Boba had an idea. Without turning his head, he let his
gaze flicker across the floor of the tunnel. There, not a millimeter away,
a pale clump of the paralyzing Xabar fungus sprouted.
Can't - be - seen - moving! Boba thought. His hand crept toward the
fungus. Must - reach it!
Grievous drew back both lightsabers to strike. Boba tensed. He let his
hand rest upon the ground. He moved his wrist, fractionally, so that his
glove slipped upward.
A tiny patch of his skin was now exposed. "He's dead," Wat Tambor
repeated. "Our troops await us outside, General."
The young bounty hunter held his breath. From the corner of his eye,
he could see fingers of faintly glowing fungus. They were so close that he
could almost feel them - almost touch them
Now!
Something cool and damp licked the patch of exposed skin upon his
wrist. His hand, and then his wrist, grew numb. A freezing breath seemed to
exhale into his lungs.
The icy numbness spread through Boba's body. He tried to breathe but
could not. He felt his heart pump feebly. His vision began to dim. His
mission to capture Wat Tambor had failed.
What would his father have thought?
Xeran said the paralysis was only temporary, Boba recalled as he
drifted off. He better be right....
Around him the chamber began to grow even more dim. A flicker of
consciousness raced through Boba's brain. He recalled how Jabba would
sometimes have his prisoners brought to him, frozen in carbonite.
Wonder if it feels like this...
It was the last thing Boba thought.
"General, please!" said Wat Tambor. "Look at him - he's dead. No one
could have survived those blows!"
Wat Tambor came up to him and nudged at Boba's senseless form. The
bounty hunter's body moved, but did not respond. Grievous swept past the
Techno Union Foreman, in turn. Disengaging the lightsabers, he kicked Boba.
"Dead," echoed one of the droid bodyguards. "Dead," the other
repeated.
"Leave him," said Wat Tambor. "There will be plenty of time to dispose
of the body when we return. And plenty of others to join him, too," he
added with a malicious mecha
nical laugh.
"Come!" commanded Grievous. "He is no Jedi. I will not waste my skill
any longer on such a lackey." He turned, then stalked down the passage, Wat
Tambor at his heels. The bodyguards followed, the citadel echoing as they
passed. In the tunnel, a dark form remained, motionless, senseless, upon
the ground.
Outside, the siege of Mazariyan raged on. Inside, Boba Fett's battle
for life was just beginning.