Tales of the Bounty Hunters by Kevin J. Anderson Page B

crack stormtroopers, simpering cowled advisors, and shrouded in an aura of respect and fear that he most certainly did not deserve. No biological did.
    From his hiding place in the Death Star’s brain, IG-88 took particular pleasure in spying on this despicable, shriveled human who seemed to think he had invincible power. Everyone treated the Emperor as if he was supremely important, much to IG-88’s amusement.
    As the entire Imperial fleet arrived, waiting in ambush for an expected Rebel attack, IG-88 watched the Emperor plotting and scheming, trying to outthink the Rebels, outmaneuver them. Palpatine believed he was so smart, so superior, that IG-88 had no choice but to briefly demonstrate the man’s impotence in the grand scheme.
    In his darkened observation chamber with its wall of transparisteel windows, the Emperor sat back in a rotating throne, staring out into the darkness of space. He remained that way for hours at a time, but occasionally he got up and moved about, going to check on troop movements, to discuss preparations with Darth Vader.
    IG-88 silently watched the Emperor scuttle toward the turbolift that would take him elsewhere in the Death Star. Red Imperial guards stood at attention with quiet efficiency, so silent they might have been droids as well.
    As the Emperor approached the sliding doorway,however—just for fun—IG-88 triggered the hydraulic systems to slam the doors in front of Palpatine’s face, sealing them shut. The Emperor blinked his yellow eyes in surprise and reared back. In consternation, Palpatine tried to open the turbolift doors, punching a useless override button. Then, to IG-88’s surprise, he applied some indefinable, intangible force to push the metal plates apart, requiring IG-88 to increase the hold on the hydraulic pistons.
    The red Imperial guards snapped into motion, sensing a great anomaly. IG-88 found it most entertaining to watch the powerful Emperor and his bodyguards unable to perform a task as simple as opening a door.
    Finally, IG-88 let the doors pop open. The Emperor and the Imperial guard looked around in confusion. Palpatine stared up at the ceiling as if trying to sense something, but he did not understand what had happened.
    None of them would understand, until it was too late.
    When the much-vaunted Rebel attack finally arrived, when the secret commando mission knocked out the energy shield projected from the sanctuary moon below, IG-88 sat back—metaphorically—and observed the unfolding battle.
    The Rebel fleet was pitifully insignificant against the arrayed force of Imperial Star Destroyers and the impressive Super Star Destroyer Executor . IG-88 still admired the precision and sleek lines of the Executor , but even the great battleship was a pale shadow to the might he now possessed in his incarnation as the Death Star.
    The fleet maneuverings were so obvious, and the strike forces commanded by biological fighters seemed so clumsy as they cruised in to attack the Death Star. The Rebels couldn’t hope to win.
    The Emperor himself thought it would be a devastating surprise that the Death Star’s superlaser actuallyfunctioned, and IG-88 wanted to fire it with great glee. But IG-88 viewed the entire attack as a bothersome annoyance, little gnats pestering him when he had so much else to do, so many plans to set in motion. He resented it mostly for the delay it would bring to the Imperial construction crews. Once the Death Star was complete, he could take over the galaxy for droids everywhere.
    The Emperor busied himself with a minor personal conflict between Darth Vader and another biological in his private observation chamber while the space battle raged around them.
    IG-88 took control of the Death Star’s superlaser, playing along and firing when the Death Star gunners sent their signals. Many times their aiming points were slightly off, their coordinates skewed—and IG-88 modified the targeting mechanism, guaranteeing that the superlaser struck its