Star Wars - [Boba Fett 04] - Hunted (by Elizabeth Hand)
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2024-12-19
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Star Wars
Boba Fett
Book 4
Hunted
by Elizabeth Hand
source: IRC
uploaded: 09.I.2006
CHAPTER ONE
Some people believe that space is empty. Boba Fett's father, Jango
Fett, had been one of those people.
"Space is emptiness," Jango had told his son. "And emptiness is
useless, until it is filled with work, or energy, or people, or starships.
A good bounty hunter may seem invisible at times. But he knows how to use
the space around him. And if he is using that space, it is not empty."
Boba did not think space was empty. Gazing out at the space that
surrounded his ship, Slave he thought that space was full, and brilliant,
and beautiful. There were planets everywhere, and stars. He saw distant
flares of green, or gold, or red that were nebulas, or galaxies, or even
vast starships.
Still, he did agree with his father on one thing. No matter what
intergalactic space was, Boba knew he had to make the most of it.
"Approaching destination," a cool, computerized voice from Slave I's
controls informed him. "Approaching Tatooine."
Boba leaned forward. He ran his hand across Slave /'s piloting
console. His fingers touched buttons, switches, and skin-sensitive
navigational aids. He smiled.
He was part of the complex space inside this starship. His starship,
since his father's death. Just days ago, on the planet Aargau, Boba had
seized Slave I back from Aurra Sing, the notorious bounty hunter who had
stolen it from him.
Aargau was the galaxy's banking planet. There, Boba had also regained
what remained of his father's fortune - just enough credits to spend on
outfitting Slave I for this journey.
"Estimated time of landing, 01200 mesarcs," the computer said.
"Breaching Tatooine airspace." Tatooine.
Boba Fett stared out at the planet before him. It was a vast bone-
colored sphere, streaked here and there with darker brown and white. In the
distance, Tatooine's twin suns blazed dull orange. They were like demonic
eyes staring back at Boba.
No, space was not empty.
He leaned forward and punched a command into the control console. With
a dull roar, Slave I pierced the desert planet's atmosphere. The ship began
to hurtle toward Tatooine's surface. The twin suns grew smaller, less
bright. But they remained ominous. Boba gazed out at the desert world,
grimacing.
This sure isn't a place where you'd want to spend much time, he
thought.
Sandstorms, oceans of sand dunes, drought-stricken canyons, moisture
farms, and unrelenting heat. From what Boba had heard, Tatooine filled its
own space with some pretty awful stuff.
So remind me why I'm going here?
Boba smiled grimly. He knew the answer to that question.
His father, Jango, had been killed by a Jedi Knight named Mace Windu.
But as one of the galaxy's greatest bounty hunters (the greatest, in Boba's
opinion), Jango had lived every day knowing that he might die.
And he had loved his son. To prepare Boba in case the worst ever
happened, Jango had left him a book. In this book were screens of
information, advice, and encouragement. All were written in his father's
own words. Sometimes the book showed his father's own image, too.
"Hold onto this book," Jango Fett's face and voice told him when Boba
looked inside the book. "Keep it close to you. Open it when you need it. It
will guide you when you need guidance. It is not a story but a Way. Follow
this Way and someday you will be a great bounty hunter, Boba."
That was what Boba wanted more than anything. To be a great bounty
hunter, like his father had been. To know that his father would have been
proud of him.
Sometimes, late at night when he was alone and scrolling through the
book, Boba pretended that his father was still alive, somewhere.
But he could never pretend that for very long.
Now the book was in his pocket. Boba did not need to look at it. He
knew the advice it held for him regarding Tatooine.
"For knowledge you must find Jabba," the book said. "He will not give
it; you must take it."
Jabba the Hutt! One of the galaxy's most notorious gangsters and crime
lords! And Tatooine's most famous, if disgusting, resident.
Jabba was why Boba was about to make landfall on this forsaken,
desolate planet.
Boba had already found Tyranus. That was how Boba had ended up on
Aargau. Tyranus was the agent who had selected Jango Fett to be the source
for the Republic's clone army.
But Tyranus was also Count Dooku, who was leading the Republic's
enemies, the Separatists.
And only Boba had the knowledge that these two people were the same.
Knowledge is power, his father had always told him. But even the power
of knowledge could be limited.
For knowledge you must find Jabba. He will not give it; you must take
it.
Boba had escaped from Aurra Sing and Aargau, but he needed more
credits to survive. He needed more power. He needed more knowledge. He took
a deep breath, then reached for the console and entered the coordinates for
Mos Espa, Tatooine's bustling spaceport.
"Prepare for landing," he said to his ship, and to himself.
Boba hated to admit it, but he needed Jabba the Hutt.
CHAPTER TWO
"Planets are like people," Boba's father always used to say. "They all
have individual personalities."
At the time, this hadn't made sense to Boba.
Since then, Boba had learned that it was true.
Kamino, his home world, was gray and grim and cloud-covered, plagued
by rains that could last for months on end. The native Kaminoans were like
their planet. They were cool and seemingly unchanging, well-mannered but
obsessed with control. They were the ideal supervisors for the creation of
the clone army.
Aargau, run by the InterGalactic Banking Clan, was strictly ordered on
its surface. But underneath that orderly surface was the chaos of the
Under-city. In the Undercity, anything could happen.
And Tatooine?
As Slave I banked, Boba stared at the spaceport below him. It was a
jumble of domes, pleasure spires, and gambling minarets. He saw long, low
warehouses, and the rusted spines of outdated space-traffic control towers.
He saw racing arenas, coliseums, and junkshops. Biggest of all was the
enormous Arena Citadel. That was where the Pod-racers began their
competition, before hurtling off into the desert.
Everything was coated with a thick layer of dust. Mos Espa's ragtag
buildings looked as though they had crawled in from the desert like giant
sand-worms, and then collapsed, too exhausted to go on. Beyond the borders
of the spaceport stretched the vast expanse of the Dune Sea, wastelands of
sand and dust and wind-carved rocks.
If Tatooine has a personality, Boba thought with bleak amusement, it's
a mixed-up one.
Slave I cruised slowly above the network of docking bays. From here
they looked like craters, bristling with surveillance and repair equipment.
Droids scurried around them like ants. Boba stared down, trying to
determine which docking bay would be safest. He had barely enough credits
left to pay for docking, and none for refueling. He'd have no more credits
at all until he met with Jabba the Hutt.
What would my father do? he thought.
And suddenly he knew.
He put on his father's Mandalorian helmet, which, he noticed proudly,
fit better than it had just a few months ago. He felt a slight warmth as
the helmet's eye sensors scanned his retinas, and then the reassuring hum
as the interactive system recognized him.
He searched Slave I's memory banks for the location of the docking
facility last used by Jango Fett.
The nav computer informed him that the docks belonged to Mentis Qinx.
Boba punched in the coordinates. He leaned back in the control seat.
Smooth as flowing water, the ship banked. It began its descent into a
warren of dilapidated towers surrounding a large and very battered docking
bay.
Boba smiled. He adjusted the Mandalorian helmet. He checked to make
sure his book was in his pocket. Minutes later, Slave I landed safely at
Mos Espa.
He had made it. But that was only the beginning.
He had to find Jabba.
Boba decided to wear the helmet, at least at _first. That way no one
would know how young he was. He was dressed in standard-issue Mandalorian
uniform - gray-blue tunic and trousers, darker shirt, high black boots.
With the helmet covering his face, he might be anyone of small stature. He
might be a Mrlssi physicist, or a Bimm merchant, or a Sullustan pilot.
Nobody had to know he was just a kid.
He cleared his throat, then clambered out of Slave I and into the
docking bay.
The air of Tatooine struck him like a fist. Hot, dry air, so saturated
with grit and dust that he could taste it on his tongue, despite the
protective helmet. A few meters away, small service droids scurried and
rolled beneath another ship. There were fuel lines and repair equipment
scattered everywhere. Boba looked around for someone in charge, standing as
straight as he could to project confidence.
"Sir!" a smooth voice greeted him, recognizing the ship. "Jango Fett,
is it?"
A gleaming figure was approaching him - a silver-plated 3D-4X
administrative droid. Its blunt, tube-shaped head whirled as it looked from
Boba to Slave I.
"Fett, that's right," Boba said. He felt a small surge of relief. A
droid would be easier to fool than a human or an alien. "I need to leave my
ship here for a while."
"Very good, very good," said the droid. It halted. Boba could hear a
garbled stream of syllables coming through its communications transmitter.
After a moment it turned back to him. "Master Qinx wishes you to be
reminded that there is a small matter of an outstanding debit on your
account."
Boba swallowed. Inside the helmet his face felt as though it were
melting. He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and said, "I am aware
of that. Here - "
Boba held out a credit chip, all that remained of his father's
fortune. The droid scanned it, then rotated its head.
"That is not enough."
"I'm aware of that, too," Boba said quickly. He was glad the droid
couldn't see his face. "Please inform your master that I have a private
audience with Jabba the Hutt regarding some old business of my own. Once
I've met with Jabba, I'll make payment in full."
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时间：2024-12-19
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