Boba swung his arm back, ready to hurl the brick. But before he could, Nuri stopped him.
“Stop!” the Bimm said. “Wait—”
The figure drew up beside them and halted, panting. It was a fur-covered Bothan, her pointy ears pressed back against her head in fear. “Nuri!” she exclaimed.
Nuri stared up at her in concern. “What is it, Hev’sin?” he asked.
“I have been searching for you!” She turned and looked at Boba. Her blaster was still pointed at him.
“Who is he?” she asked Nuri in a low, accusing voice.
Boba stared at his feet. Nuri glanced at him, then shook his head. “Only a boy,” he said to the Bothan quietly. “You will not need your weapon with him. Tell me, Hev’sin—what is wrong?”
The Bothan hesitated. Then she slipped her blaster back into her belt. She stepped next to Nuri, and the two of them turned away slightly. It was obvious they were not worried about Boba overhearing them.
After all, Boba thought, I’m only a boy. Not a serious threat.
Or so you think.
Boba knew about Bothans. They were the greatest spies in the galaxy. They left their homeworld, Bothawai, and traveled everywhere. And everywhere they went, they found work—at undercover jobs, as independent operatives, or part of the Bothan Spynet.
And what was it Nuri had just said?
The single most valuable thing is information.
Boba pretended to stare at the alley nearby. But in fact he was listening to what the Bothan was saying.
Boba was spying.
Two can play this game, he thought. And maybe only one can win—but that one will be me.
He could hear Hev’sin talking, in a low, urgent voice. “They say he has come here to raise currency for the Separatists. That is why he is down in the Undercity. He is pretending to make a standard visit to the Banking Clan offices on Level Four, but his real business is down here. He doesn’t want to draw the attention of members of the Republic.”
“Are you sure of this, Hev’sin?” asked Nuri. He looked extremely interested, but not too alarmed.
“Positive,” hissed the Bothan. “I saw him with my own eyes. He is surrounded by clone troopers—he never travels anywhere without a full guard now. Besides, I would know San Hill anywhere.”
San Hill! Boba remembered—he had seen San Hill just a little while ago, up on Level Two—the man who was skinny and ugly as a stick insect. The Head of the InterGalactic Banking Clan.
San Hill was a Separatist. Boba learned this when he was on Geonosis, and he had seen San Hill meeting with Count Dooku. Boba wondered if San Hill knew that Dooku was the same person as Tyranus—Tyranus, who had created the clone troopers that were now attacking San Hill’s allies!
I’ll bet he doesn’t know, thought Boba.
And then he had another thought.
Maybe he’d like to know…for a price.
Information was very valuable here on Aargau.
“Where did you see him?” Nuri was asking Bothan.
“Near the Hutts’ gambling palace. You can be certain San Hill is up to no good, if he is doing business with the Hutts.”
Nuri nodded. “That is so.”
Boba’s eyes widened. The Hutts! He knew who they were—one of the most notorious clans in the galaxy! They ran smuggling and gambling houses all through Hutt Space, and beyond. Now it seemed that they had some sort of operation here on Aargau. An illegal one, too, since it was in the Undercity.
Boba’s father, Jango, had done business with Jabba, the Hutt clan’s ruler.
“The Hutts value a good bounty hunter,” Jango had told his son. “They pay well, too—better than almost anyone.”
For knowledge you must find Jabba, his father’s book had said. Could Jabba the Hutt be here on Aargau?
Boba glanced over at Nuri and the Bothan, then quickly turned his head again.
“I must go now.” The Bothan looked over her shoulder. She stared right past Boba. It was as though he was invisible to her. Another advantage of being young! “I knew you would want to know this, Nuri.”
The Bimm nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
He handed her a coin. The Bothan looked at it, disappointed. For a moment Boba thought she was going to argue—but then Boba remembered.
Bimms were expert hagglers.
And this Bothan didn’t have time to waste on haggling. She gave Nuri a farewell that was more of a snarl, then turned and walked quickly away.
“Interesting,” Nuri said, more to himself than Boba. “Most interesting.”
He looked up, and it was as though he saw Boba for the first time. A small smile crossed the Bimm’s face.
“Well, my young visitor,” said Nuri. He gestured to the alley behind him. “Shall we go and get your money?”
Boba said nothing. He didn’t move. Something about the Bimm seemed different. Maybe it was that smile. Maybe it was just that Boba was tired and hungry. He waited, and finally nodded.
“Okay,” he said.
He followed Nuri into the alley. It was dim, but not too dark. It curved slightly, though, so Boba couldn’t quite see what was ahead of him. A few more space pirates passed them, laughing loudly. Boba tried to stand as tall as he could when they walked by him. He’d give anything to be back on Slave I! He’d give anything to be off this planet, and on his own.…
“Here we are,” said Nuri suddenly. He stopped in front of a metal door. There was a small window in the door, with bars in it. At the bottom was a narrow opening. Behind the barred window stood a very old, worn-out Admin droid.
“Can I help you?” it asked in a grating voice.
Nuri turned to Boba. “May I have your card, please?”
Boba thought for a moment. If the Bimm had meant to rob him, he could have done it before now. After a moment he shrugged. He pulled the card from his pocket and handed it to Nuri. The Bimm would still need Boba’s DNA to get the credits.
Or would he?
“I’d like to have my fee deducted from this young man’s account,” said Nuri. He slid the card through the opening in the barred window. “Six hundred thousand mesarcs should do it.”
The droid picked up the card. “As you wish,” it said. It swiped the card across a shining red screen.
Boba watched the droid suspiciously. It hadn’t bothered to question Boba at all. It hadn’t even looked at him. And suddenly the words of the security attendant on Level One came back to him.
You must also be sure not to exchange your money from anyone who is not a licensed member of the Banking Clan. There are black-market money changers on Aargau.
This was an illegal banking machine.
“Hey!” yelled Boba. “What are you doing? That’s my money!”
He lunged for the banking machine, jamming his hand through the narrow opening, reaching for the card and hitting at buttons to stop the transaction. He managed to halt things—but it was already too late.
“Five hundred thousand mesarcs have been taken from your account,” the droid said in its rusty voice. It dropped the card back into the opening. “Have a nice day.”
Boba grabbed the card. He turned furiously to Nuri.
“You!” Boba began to shout. But then he stopped.
Nuri was morphing. His face went from yellow fur to silver to green. He grew taller, his arms grew longer, until he towered above Boba.
He wasn’t a Bimm at all.
“You’re a shapeshifter!” gasped Boba.