Bobba Fett's view of his own Stories
By Churnok
Disclaimer
Boba Fett is the copyright of lucasfilms and is used here for non-profit entertainment purposes only. Blithogs are a race I made up and may be used by anyone as long as I get a copy of the story (I don't care what you do with them I just want to see if they develop). Permission is given to anyone who wants to archive this story as long as they let me know first and give me a link to their site. I welcome any comments, questions, and/or constructive criticisms.
End Disclaimer
Fett ordered his drink and settled back in a dark corner of the bar to wait for his target to show up. To pass the time, he accessed the local infonet. Collecting the local stories and rumors about himself had become a hobby. One of the few amusements he allowed himself. Every world that had heard of the notorious bounty hunter Bobba Fett had its own versions of his life. Speculating as to what he looked like under his helmet, how old he was, gender, species, etc. Some of those tales talked about his origins, ranging from him being some nobody until he took the armor off a corpse to him being the last of his race. Others questioned his very existence saying he was just a myth spread by this or that group to either make themselves look good or keep people in line. There had even been a few Bobba Fett conspiracy theories for a while. What really made him laugh were the three unofficial autobiographies. He still remembered the looks on the faces of each author when he tracked them done just to get his copy of their version of his life's story autographed.
"One of these days I have to find someone to write an official autobiography of my life," he thought to himself. "The problem is, how much of the truth do I give the author and which delightful tales do I incorporate into my life just to make some backwater storyteller's day?"
He had his favorites of course, but most of them conflicted with each other, some were more enjoyable if they remained rumor then if they were made official, and a couple of them, though enjoyable, were not something he wanted made official.
Oh well, his latest quarry, a solidly built blithog named Sanhedrin, had just walked in, time to put his hobby on hold and go cause another heart attack. He walked over to Sanhedrin, with a silence so practiced that it had become habit years ago, and placed a gloved hand on the blithog's leathery green shoulder.
"My employer wishes to talk with you," he said calmly but in a gravely voice that gave nightmares to several of his, surviving, targets.
To his credit, Sanhedrin didn't panic or try to run. He just did the third stupidest thing when dealing with Bobba Fett. He tried to take the bounty hunter down. Blithogs were very strong. The blow would have shattered Fett's skull had it still been where Sanhedrin's fist was going. As it was, Fett just moved his head to the side and activated the tazer in the glove that was still on Sanhedrin's shoulder. The burst could've dropped a bantha, but blithog skin was annoyingly insulated. Sanhedrin was merely stunned by the blast. A quick blow to the jugular finished the job. Sanhedrin fell to the floor with a loud thump. Fett looked at the patrons of the bar, all of whom were determined to not have seen anything. He pointed to two muscles that probably served as bouncers and said, "I'll give you twenty creds each to help me haul this baggage to my ship. Another twenty if you do it quickly with no questions asked."
The bouncers earned their credits, and Fett would earn enough to make what he gave them look like pocket change once he delivered this cowardly groom to a certain crime-lord/bride. Not one of his more interesting hunts and certainly not one of his most challenging, but the bounty would pay the bills and the bar patrons who "didn't see a thing," would be detailing and embellishing what they "didn't see," to their friends. Another case closed and another interesting story started.
