Origins
Disclaimer: The characters in this are not mine. Everything Star Wars related belongs to Lucasfilm, Ltd. and everything Gundam Wing related belongs to whoever owns it. I own nothing but this wacky idea… and maybe Wufei's ship, but that really belongs to the Winners, so I own nothing but the idea. Please don't sue. I'm poor.
There was just something he liked about it, something that he couldn't quite place. Maybe it was ridding the galaxy of scum or bringing some fool to the justice he so deserved or the thrill of hunting the ultimate prey. He couldn't say for sure, not that he had anyone to say it to which was fine by him; he liked his solitude, but he knew there was something about his profession that he liked.
You see, he was a bounty hunter. And not just any bounty hunter, either. No he was the infamous Boba Fett. One of the, if not the, most feared bounty hunters in the galaxy. He had been to almost every planet anyone could name on one hunt or another, and everyone knew at least on tale about his travels. But what no one knew is where he came from, except for a few humble people on a back water planet whose inhabitants knew so little of the galaxy around them that they still thought they were the only life forms who inhabited it. The few humble people who knew where Fett had come from didn't even know that they knew.
There have been at least five bounty hunters by the name of Boba Fet. When one would die another would take his place. The longest lived, the most traveled, and the one to bring the name from obscurity into infamy was the fellow who liked the job so much, and his true name, the one he had been born with, was Chang Wufei. The back water planet on which the humble people who knew his origins lived was called Earth, and the humble people who knew him were his friends. The four of them, along with Wufei had made up a grew called the Gundam pilots. They had fought in a war, and when that war was over, they went their separate ways.
Time went by and Wufei grew restless and bored with the things around him. Eventually he souldn't bear it any longer, so he put in a call to his fellow ex-Gundam pilot Quatre Rababa Winner, whose family was rather wealthy and Quatre requisitioned the fastest spacecraft he could for Wufei, and Wufei left, never to return.
He traveled for three years at near light speed, as the ship was incapable of anything faster, before he came upon a slightly less back water planet than his own, one that knew of some of the comings and goings of the galaxy and a had a large, if a bit seedy, spaceport which he landed in with little hassle, as the port authority wasn't prone to asking questions, knowing what kind of dangerous criminals passed through their town, and knew hindering them would only bring worlds of trouble n their heads in the form of angry mob bosses.
Wufei made his way out of his ship quickly, claustrophobic after so long. He wanted to find some where to eat--he had only eaten more-ancient-the-Earth-itself C-rats and drank recycled water for the past three years--and a half way decent hotel to sleep in. Soon he reached the dusty streets of the port town he would come to know to be Mos Eisley on a desert planet called Tattooine. He walked cautiously into a cntina full of rowdy humans and aliens. He had thought he was imagining things when he had seen a creature with bulbous cranium and huge, shiny black eyes walk by on the streets, but now seeing creatures of every imaginable description, he knew he had been wrong. He overcame his shock and casually walked up to the bar and ordered a glass of water and some food another patron suggested when he began to flounder, which he hoped would be edible. He sat in a booth, back pressed against the far wall, taking in the scene, and ate his food quickly, feeling as though he was being watched.
Suddenly, a tussle broke out. A young girl, most likely too young to be allowed in such an establishment, was struggling against a large, brute of a man who was saying he going to take her back where she belonged. Making it known that she didn't want to go, she hit and kicked him, screaming her objections. The brute soon lost patience with her and backhanded, making her fall to the floor. He picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, and turned to leave. Wufei, from his vantage point, saw the girl holding her rapidly bruising cheeck and crying silently, having admitted defeat. No one made to stop the man or defend the girl. Wufei's sense of honor and justice made him stand and give chase, knowing he would probably regret it later.
Wufei caught up with the hulking man as he turned down a dim, narrow alley a block from the cantina, still feeling as if he were being watched. He called out, "Hey!" his voice from three years of disuse.
The brute whipped around, nearly knocking the girl's head against the wall of the building to his right. "What do you want, pipsqueak?" His voice was deep, rough, and dangerous. His arm muscles rippled as he clenched and unclenched his massive fist at his side.
Wufei swallowed hard, but kept up a brave front. "Put the girl down, and we can talk about what I want." He closed some of the distance between them.
The brute looked a little suspicious, but curious as to what a pipsqueak kid wanted with him. He set the girl down, his whole attention so focused in Wufei that he didn't noticed Wufei wink at the girl and her begin to back away as she realized Wufei's intent.
Wufei wasted little time after the girl was down. He gave her a few seconds to get some distance between herself and the brute before crouching down and kick the man's legs out from under him all in one swift motion. The brute's head bounced off the ground hard, knocking him out, and the girl was off like a shot. Wufei took that as his own cue and ran back the way he had come.
He ran until he reached the entrance to Bay 3, where his ship was, and fell back against the wall, breathing heavy. So heavy, in fact, that he almost didn't hear the footfalls behind him, but he did, and turned quickly towards the sound, ready for a fight.
A man stopped short in front of Wufei, clutching his left side, taking hitched breaths, as though in pain. He was dressed from head to toe in scratched and dented body armor of some sort, including a helmet with a strange T-shaped visor and antenna. Wufei opened his mouth to speak, but before he had even uttered a sound, the man swooned and fell to the ground.
Wufei stared at the fallen man for a moment.
He wasn't sure what to do. Should he leave him there? Get him to his ship? Take him to a hospital? Did they even have hospitals?Finally he stepped to the man and crouched down. He saw the man's chest rising and falling rhythmically, yet shallowly, but easier than when he had been conscious. Wufei went to stand and braced himself on the ground as he wavered a little, and perceived that he had laid his hand in something wet and grainy. The fallen man was bleeding badly. Wufei stood quickly, his mind made up, and carefully stood the man up, placing the man's right arm across his shoulders and his own arm around the man's waist, and slowly but surely, dragged the man through the bay doors, through the bay itself, and up the ramp into his ship.
He deposited the injured man on a buck and retrieved a first aid kit from underneath the co-pilot seat in the cickpit. He returned and got to work removing and what appeared to be weaponry from his guest. The man beneath the mask was barely a man at all, he couldn't have been as old as Wufei, and Wufei was nineteen. Wufei didn't linger on the injured man's age, though. He removed all of the armor and weaponry and unzipped the flight suit underneath. He carefully removed it and cleaned and dressed the wound with all the efficiency he had learned during the war. After that, all he could do was wait.