Episode VIII Rise of the Dark Jedi

It's Always a Trap

The Ghost slept in a crowded docking bay of the Alderan asteroid space station. The station was not equipped to house more than a few hundred occupants, so anyone who had a ship fitted with its own living quarters was required to dwell in their own ship. Each docked ship was then hard-lined into the base communication system for immediate contact from command.

Boba, Sabine, and Zeb, bored and careless waited in the common area of the Ghost.  Zeb leaned back half-asleep on the couch, while Sabine cleaned her hand blaster.  Boba simply sat still, his chin resting on his clasped hands as he stared at the open rear door of the Ghost.   A broken black and gold astromech droid head laid at his feet.  

"Excuse me, eh--Boba Fett," a cautious droid called timidly from outside the open loading bay door. "I have a message from the General Organa."

"Come in," he replied. "We've been expecting you."

A gold protocol droid followed by a small blue and white astromech droid entered and approached Boba Fett who leaned back in his chair and kicked up his booted feet to rest on the dismembered astromech head.

Boba Fett did not stand to receive the report. Sabine, however,  rose to meet the droids, leaving her blaster on the Dejarik table

C-3PO started. "Well, yes.   My name is See-Threepio, and this is my counterpart, Artoo--"

"Yeah," Boba interrupted.  "I know who you are."  He said nothing else and waited for C-3PO to continue.

 "Oh yes.  Well, the General Organa says that as the original request you had made has been carried out--"

"Excellent." Boba interrupted. "And the other?"

"Yes, she also would like to inform you that the transmission has been verified; and the amount you agreed upon has been transferred."

"Check that, Sabine," he ordered. Boba cleaned his teeth with a metal pick.

"Already on it," she replied and rushed to cockpit to check the visual readout.

A moment later she called out, "It's good."

"Then I believe we owe you something." he said to C-3PO as he rose from his seat.

He produced the data chip and offered it to the protocol droid.

"Please, if you would. Please, insert it into my droid counterpart." He gestured to R2-D2.

Boba inserted the chip into R2-D2's data port.

"The General Organa thanks you for your cooperation. She also requests that you attend the briefing session at thirteen hundred standard. Something about making good on your original request. Though I do not know what she was talking about in that regard."

Boba agreed cautiously. He squinted his eyes and rubbed the back of his neck, analyzing Leia's request. He smiled to himself at an amusing idea but did not say it aloud.  

The two droids then turned to leave and as they exited the door R2-D2 could be heard emitting a few loud sharp beeps.  C-3PO hit him on the head.

"Well that is very impolite Artoo. Of course he looks older. It has been thirty years." The argument continued well beyond the ability of the crew of the Ghost to hear it.

"Looks like that's it," Zeb said as he rested his hands on the top of his head.

"What do you think that's about: her asking us to the briefing?" Sabine asked Boba.

"She may credit us with finding the transmission, but I would suspect she'll more likely try to get us to join the fight," Boba replied.

"Like that's going to happen," Zeb interjected. "I barely wanted to get involved with this affair. Now that it's over, it's time to go home."

Sabine's spider droid crawled in through the open bay door. She looked up and held out her arm for the spider droid to return.

"Before you make any decisions on that, Zeb, let's see if my spider has found whether the Resistance has any new First Order codes. We just might find out you've got another big payout on your hands," she said.

She sent the data from the spider droid to the Ghost's central computer and pulled up the visual on a Holo display. The readout ran through a series of glyphs.

"Wow," Sabine said. "They have hundreds of codes. I thought we had a lot. They must have a slicer on the inside--that or at least ten groups of bounty hunters working for them."

"Never mind that," Boba said. "Is there a match?"

She studied it for a just a few seconds longer.

"Here's a match!" She exclaimed. "Looks like--oh, my great gutkurr."

"What?" Zeb inquired.

"It's a transmission from General Hux to the admiral ordering to station seven star destroyers just one parsec outside of the Lybeya system."

"That could only mean one thing," Zeb added.

"I figured as much," Boba said.

"You figured as much?" Sabine blurted. "You knew it was a trap!"

"Honey, it's always a trap."

She huffed. "Well, we need to give them this transmission!"

"No, we don't," Boba dissented.

"Yes, we do! We are not going to let them walk into a death trap!" Sabine shouted.

"And how do you think they will take that?" Boba said calmly. "We just made a deal for information that cost them three million credits, and we had knowledge that it was a trap the whole time. Do you think they are going to be happy with us?  Walk us down the aisle and give us nice shiny medals.  No, we'll be criminals again."

"But we didn't know it was a trap until now," Zeb said.

"And how do you suppose we tell them that?" Boba countered. "We didn't know what the transmission said until of course, we stole your codes. Go ahead, try telling them."

"Well, we've got to do something!" Sabine huffed.

"I don't see why you think that," Boba said.

"I can't believe you!" she shouted. "Maybe there is nothing in it for you, but there is more than just a payout to think about. The Resistance may be sending their entire fleet to accomplish this."

"Oh, I doubt the general would be as foolish as that," Boba stated.

"At least half the fleet! This could be the end of any reasonable opposition to the First Order. Thousands of people may die because of this!"

"So," Boba said offhandedly.

"You make me sick," Sabine said, imitating his flat tone. "Zeb and I know what it is like to fight for a worthy cause. You always want a payout, but doing something heroic has its rewards. It may not be three million credits, but it is more valuable. For once in your life, do something for someone else other than yourself! But what am I saying? I'm wasting my breath."

She got up and moved for the door, her boots sounding louder than usual.

"Come on, Zeb. I need some fresh air. It stinks in here."

Zeb smiled and followed her out.

"I'm just glad you weren't referring to me for a change," he commented.