Star Wars: Tales of the Bounty Hunters Read Online Free Page B

chronometer—manufactured on Mechis III, of course—and knew that the high point of the afternoon had arrived. Exactly on time, his silver-plated administrative droid Threedee-Fourex bustled in, carrying a tray in one hand and a datapad in theother. “Your afternoon tea, sir,” Threedee-Fourex said.
    “Ah, thank you,” Hekis answered, rubbing his spidery hands together and taking the delicate shell-resin cup filled with the steaming liquid. He sipped it, closing his muddy brown eyes in delight.
    “Your afternoon reports, sir,” Fourex said, extending the flat datapad that listed the familiar charts of figures and production numbers.
    “Ah, thank you,” he said again and took the pad.
    Then Threedee-Fourex reached into a small containment chamber in the back of his silvery torso and removed a blaster pistol. “Your death, sir,” the droid said.
    “Excuse me?” Startled, Hekis looked up at this deviation from routine. “What is the meaning of this?”
    “I believe that’s quite plain, sir,” Threedee-Fourex said and fired two shots rapidly. The pinpoint beams struck home precisely. Hekis slumped to his desk, spilling his tea all over the gathered records.
    Threedee-Fourex spun about and marched smartly out the door, transmitting his report to the IG-88s who had digitally reprogrammed him from orbit. Then he summoned custodial droids to clean up the mess.
    The insurrection on Mechis III was quick and bloody and very efficient. Within the space of a few minutes the newly coordinated planetary computer mind supervised a simultaneous uprising of droids, killing all seventy-three human inhabitants before any of them could sound an alarm—not that the unified communication network would have allowed transmission of such messages anyway.
    With slowed time, IG-88 watched from the hidden courier ship in orbit, observing the full details through sensor eyes and piped-in dataflow. Mere moments later,when everything had been finished he brought the ship down gently through the atmosphere.
    There was no need to hurry now. Everything was in place.
    At the central manufacturing complex, the sleek ship landed and the four identical IG-88s stepped out onto the platform. They looked across the smoky skies to the hastily gathered, newly liberated droids milling around.
    IG-88 set foot on Mechis III as a messiah.
    From that point on, it was important for the assassin droids to keep up the charade. To all outward appearances, nothing had changed on Mechis III—and IG-88 made sure everyone in the galaxy continued to think so. Threedee-Fourex took care of external details, answering messages beamed in over the galactic HoloNet, signing release orders and other documents with the full flourish of Hekis’s digitized signature.
    Two days later, the four assassin droids met for an interlinked strategy session in the plush offices of the former administrator. To conform more to their conception of sterile efficiency, IG-88 had ordered custodial droids to strip down all of the artwork and scenic images from the walls, and to remove all of the furniture. Droids never needed to sit down, after all.
    In the administrative offices the four IG-88s stood silently communing, exchanging and updating each other’s datafiles.
    “If we are to use Mechis III as our base of operations for galactic dominance, we must maintain all outward appearance that nothing has changed.”
    “Droid orders must continue to be fulfilled without delay, exactly as ordered. None of the humans must suspect.”
    “We will alter existing video records, forge transmissions, keep the routine chains of communications so that all appearances remain normal.”
    “According to records and the personal journals of the humans stationed here, few visitors came to Mechis III. In all likelihood, we will remain undisturbed.”
    With his rear optical sensors, IG-88 scanned through the transparisteel observation windows high in the administrative tower. He saw plumes of released