Dark Bounty--A STAR WARS STORY Part 1

Terrah Otlell

Boba ran down a long grey corridor, followed close behind by a dark-haired woman with lean chest armor and a small pack. A red starburst was painted on her armor.

"Red! Did you get the artifact?" he called out to Terrah.

She did not stop her stride but called out, "Got it. No one's following us. You must have taken care of the prison guards."

"Yeah," Boba replied as if it was too obvious.

Boba had not worn Mandalorian armor since the Sarlacc pit twenty-five years previous. The galaxy had assumed that Boba Fett was dead after the Pit of Carkoon; and though he had another set of armor (other than the set that Terrah had pawned), it was advantageous for him to maintain the ruse. Therefore, he only wore the gauntlets and some of the weaponry.

This was not the first time Boba Fett had worked on a bounty with Terrah since she had left him on the sands of Tatooine. It had become a regular occurrence as the Keeper had often employed them together, and this time they were sent to Megalox Beta to steal a Clone Wars artifact from Grakkus the Hutt. It seemed that even though Grakkus was in a high-security prison-city, he still was able to amass a collection of Jedi-artifacts; and the head of General Grievous interested the Keeper enough to enlist two of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy.

Boba and Terrah ran to the end of the hall where a door to the landing platform stood resolutely closed.

"I'll get it," Terrah said, and started removing the control panel. Her fingers worked quickly with the small tools and electrical cords, as she snapped a few sparks between frayed wires.

Boba stood sentinel, guarding the corridor with his carbine rifle; the grenade launcher attached ventrally on the rifle barrel was armed with physical charges.

The door opened with a hiss, and a gush of foul air rushed in blowing Terrah's black hair back. Before them was the landing pad, and on it rested Slave-1. Boba's old ship faced them, cockpit forward--another inheritance he had received from his father.

The grey wind blew across its hull as the low fog was swept over it with the gusts.

"This seems a little too easy," Boba noted.

Before he could say another word, Terrah's lips were on his. Here was another possibility he had not anticipated; Terrah had a way of doing that to Boba. She kissed him passionately and wrapped her arms around him. Boba returned the kiss willingly, but still gripped his rifle.

She withdrew and stared with her memorable green eyes into his, as her hands found their way seductively to his chest plate.

"I'm sorry, Honey," she said and suddenly pushed him. He took a step back as she swiftly hopped outside the door and pushed the outside control panel.

The door flashed shut in front of him. He stood for a second looking at the empty grey-black surface. Then laughed out loud and shook his head.

"How I hate that woman," he said with a smile.

Boba leapt to the open control panel and aptly opened the door after a few twists of wires.

The door opened again with the familiar hiss, and Boba saw his Slave-1 ascending before him, just having taken off. He sprinted as fast as he could and held up his gauntlet, still fitted with a fibrocord. He fired it with precision as the barbed dart made contact with the port stabilizer and stuck fast.

His body lifted off the ground as Slave-1 rose to about ten meters. Boba started to retract the cord, but the port stabilizer burst into flames. The resulting blast threw Boba to the ground on his back. He hit hard and lost his breath.

Slave-1 spun with only the one stabilizer before the starboard engine stabilizer exploded as well. To Boba, the ship then seemed to float in the air for an eternity before it was swallowed up in flames, a red and orange flower of heat blooming from the shell of Slave-1.

He watched in horror as his ship seemed to float to the landing platform and wilted in grey smoke, the foul breeze of Megalox-Beta sweeping the black smoke to the west.

....

Boba jolted up from his dream sweating, still trying to shake the explosion from his mind. He shook his head and wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his shirt, wishing he could wipe the memories away as easily. So much of the last five years had been trying to wipe it all away; everything except for Patch. After a few deep breaths, he got up from the cockpit chair of the Falcon where he had fallen asleep from the exhaustion of working on the motivator all day.

He walked back to the ramp and stepped out into the lit cavern, rubbing the back of his neck. He strode to the tool crate and started to sift through it.

PZ-85 gracelessly shuffled up to him. "Master, may I interrupt your-"

"What?" Boba said, the dream putting him in an exceptionally unpleasant temperament.

"While you were sleeping we received an open transmission for you," PZ-85 informed.

Boba picked up the wrench he wanted. "Fine, play it."

PZ-85 held out a small holoprojector, and a blue-grey image appeared.

A fat, male humanoid face filled the holograph. He had black, pupil-less eyes and no nose. His wide mouth grinned showing only smooth green gums, as his gaping mouth took up half his face.

"The Keeper, not going to give up, I imagine," Boba said to PZ-85.

The holograph transmission went on. "Boba Fett, I hope my men did not inconvenience you too much. I know they can be a little impulsive."

Boba laughed to himself, but his anger was rising.

The Keeper continued. "I'm sorry to say, my offer of three million credits for the Falcon is no longer on the table--" He hiccoughed then said, "I was hoping you would be more reasonable as that was a very generous offer. But let me change the offer--hic." He hiccoughed again and then removed himself from the holograph.

With the exiting of his image, a girl was pushed into view, her mouth gagged and her hands bound behind her.

"Patch!" Boba exclaimed. Patch's green eyes looked at the Keeper with disdain as she resisted the Aqualish that pushed her into the viewscreen.

"I believe you know this girl," the Keeper stated. "And so my new offer is the Falcon for the girl. To me, it is no matter, either I get a clone prime, or I get the Falcon. This is the kind of deal I love--hic. You have two weeks to decide."

The transmission ended, abruptly.

Boba gripped the wrench, his knuckles turning white.

PZ-85 tilted his head, waiting for Boba's reply. "Shall I play it again for you?"

Boba growled and threw the wrench. It errantly hit the control panel on the wall. The lights died out and they were left in the darkness. In the thick black, the droid could hear Boba flip the tool cart over with a crash, metallic clangs and clashes reverberating through the vast aerie.

"Would you like me to turn the lights back on, Master?"