"The Good, the Bad, and the Sleemo"
Chapter the First
The cold of night had long faded with the rising twin suns.
Red and white painted the large dunes and rocky hills of the Jundland Wastes, tattooing streaks of light as the dawn turned to day.
It was a ghost town, sitting in the pit of a lost valley. Whatever residents there had been were lost long ago to the merciless sandstorms and the heat. And they probably deserved it, too.
At first, there appeared to be two of them. But through the growing mirage, which was rising quickly, a third was cleverly hidden. They waved long metal spears, each unique to his own carrier. There was not the taste of sand in their mouths, nor the blinding white of the twin suns in their eyes. And when their warrior cries echoed across that lost valley, whatever life would have been within a three-mile radius would have, under the blistering heat, froze with horror and dread.
They were Tusken Raiders and the only thing on their minds, currently, was killing.
Ahead of them by about fifty yards, a number which dropped with each second, a fourth figure eyed the approaching group with caution. For this fourth figure, as luck would have it, happened to be pinned between the bottom of a large cliff that constructed half of the valley and the group of Tusken Raiders hellbent on the smell of fresh kill. He had no form of transportation that was between him and either opposition. Anyone else would have decided he was trapped, and accepted his horrible fate. Not to be said of this one.
Since, you see, bounty hunters don't take kindly to backing out of any situation until they are either the last one standing or they are no longer breathing. Especially any bounty hunter who had survived the three-year game of bloodshed and Blackjack that was the Galactic Clone Wars.
The Tusken Raiders were drawing closer, but the bounty hunter did not drop eye contact with them. Then they split their group so that they did not reveal their real numbers. One, leading in the middle with the largest spear and the tallest, was the first to make a move of attack against the adversary.
Suddenly the Tusken let out a scream and he was lying on the ground and he was not moving. Several seconds passed and he dragged himself back up, stabbing the ground with the end of his spear, only to let out another scream and fall flat on his face. The second Tusken was a bit more of a challenge, as he was approaching from the side. The bounty hunter had seconds to switch weapons and use a few deflectors from his wrist gauntlet to throw off the attacker's balance. Had he ducked a centimeter higher when the spear flew for him, he would have been a dead man. Then the Tusken grabbed him, trying to throw him off guard as well, and he drew the blaster pistol at his side. Three shots later, the second Tusken was on his knees with two holes in his lower stomach, using every vulgarity in his native language as quickly as he could before a fourth shot aimed between his eyes silenced him for good.
For a long time, the fourth figure and the remaining Tusken glared at each other through the bright sun and the hot sand. Neither could have shown any more emotion if he were a boulder. As one's eyes were hidden behind metal goggles that blocked out the sun, the other's was partially covered by the front dip of his wide-brimmed hat. The Tusken Raider shifted weight from one foot to the other. The bounty hunter stood his ground, keeping a hand on either holster. His blue skin was charred and blistered to the point where it had lost almost all color; one leg leaned out at a slightly awkward angle.
Then, shouting an ear-piercing cry as the voice of his dead comrades, the last Tusken charged with his spear aimed for the assailant. The bounty hunter drew his blaster and fired it one last time, seconds before his heart would have been pierced by the spear. The Tusken cried out, collapsed, and choked out his last.
With that, the bounty hunter was soon aboard the transportation which the band of three had separated him from, determined to leave this scumhole of a valley. Soon he was gone. And the little ghost town left no trace that anyone had set foot in it, save for three Tusken corpses that would be eroded and dried out by the sand within the week.
The bounty hunter's name was Cad Bane and he had survived the Clone Wars.
Cad Bane had been well aware of the three Tuskens trailing him across the desert. For the past couple days, they had seen his lack of company as an opportunity to take him by surprise, steal the clothes off his back, and then decide whether to kill him, leave him for dead, or bring him back to camp for further entertainment. The merry little chase put a small delay in Bane's trip to Mos Eisley, but it was nothing he wasn't already used to. The Jundland Wastes were scattered with such characters, not all of which were necessarily Tuskens. A necessary annoyance, Bane supposed, for these sorts of trips. At least it acted as a small compensation for the boring stretches.
However, Cad Bane was not aware of an event taking place on the other side of the Jundland Wastes, involving a fellow bounty hunter with far different schemes on his mind other than just making it off of the Outer Rim desert planet with all limbs attached.
"Sloan?" the bounty hunter asked aloud. He leaned against the doorway of the small hut, crossing his arms. A helmet shielded the smirk spreading across his face.
At the other end of the room, a young boy stood defiantly, daring to look the intruder straight in the eye. His dark hair had turned sandy from the dust storm outside. That morning was regularly quiet on the small moisture farm. So quiet, so still and set apart from the happenings of a galaxy in turmoil, that the loudest cry or the longest scream would not be heard for miles around by anyone. This was a fact that did not escape the young boy, nor his father.
"He's not here," the boy stammered.
"I only ask for ten minutes, if he is not occupied at the moment." When there was no reply, the bounty hunter took a step back. "Tell him that...Jango Fett is here."
With that, the boy turned around and vanished around the corner of the house. The bounty hunter sighed, polishing the barrel of his rifle that was nestled comfortably over his arm, and counted forty seconds before the red-skinned six-foot figure with barrels for biceps appeared. Sloan, whose face was tattooed with age and scars alike, widened his eyes when he saw the figure standing ten feet distance from him.
"You're not Jango Fett. Jango died thirteen years ago."
"You're correct. But how else would I have gotten your attention?" he pressed. As the boy ran the winding staircase, the bounty hunter slowly approached Sloan, taking his time to drag each boot against the gravelly sand floor.
Sloan's Adam's apple bounced up and down as he swallowed hard.
"Don't tell me you're that phony kid of his." Sloan had scarcely finished his sentence when a gloved hand coiled around his throat and slammed him against the dining table.
"Let's get down to business. After all, I only have ten minutes. First..." said the son of Jango Fett, "the name Jackson he's going under these days."
"I don't know anything about that. Tell them the cash was hidden years ago and now I don't know where it is."
"Oh?" He threw Sloan to the ground. "Well, I'm not surprised, come to think of it. But it is difficult to find someone if I don't know their name...wouldn't you agree?"
His eyes widened again as he wiped blood and dirt from his mouth. There was no answer, so the son of Jango Fett just crossed his arms and stood over him. He leaned down, digging one bent knee into the man's chest.
"All right...all right! Crevil...Bahr Crevil. That's Jackson's new name."
"Good. Now, about that cash box...it's here, isn't it? You took a job at a place like this so you would be close enough to keep an eye on it."
He could tell Sloan felt he was losing the conversation and quickly.
"You'll never find it. It's impossible. And don't think you can get it out of me."
Boba Fett rose to his full height. A hand gracefully glazed over the rifle at his side. As Sloan tried to get back to his feet, a kick in his side made him freeze. After the second kick, Boba Fett drew the rifle and pointed it between his eyes.
"Thank you for saving me the trouble."
Seconds after the shot rang out, the backdoor burst open and someone rushed out. Boba spun around just in time to see who it was. The kid.
The boy had but one instant to uncover the scene and look up at the bounty hunter with horror and hatred before he, too, received an equal shot between the eyes. From the back of the house, Boba Fett heard a woman's scream, but he did not bother to work overtime. He turned and left the house. When he was at a safe enough distance, he pulled out a disk from his belt. Soon, the hologram image of his employer appeared above it.
"I got the name. Bahr Crevil."
"Very well," the hologram said in a crackled, old voice. "Meet me in the usual place. We'll discuss your payment there."
Boba Fett left the city outskirts in his ship, taking the route himself as the skies faded from the rays of dawn and the coolness of the ground began to evaporate. He was fairly certain that this conversation was going to be quite one-sided, and in his favor of course. For he, too, had survived the Clone Wars.
Author's Note:
I'm back with a new Cad Bane fic! I'm finally back!
Yes, this story is going to be a parody of the Sergio Leone film "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", starring Embo, Boba Fett, and Cad Bane in their respective roles. I have been wanting to write a Star Wars version of this classic spaghetti western for a long, long time. Part of what took me so long to finally get it started was to decide 1) which SW era to fit it into, and 2) who would fill each of the three main roles.
You may be wondering, why did I choose to make Embo "the good", and so on? Well, that's why it took me a while to decide, but first things first. I chose Embo to star as "the good" because he seems to be the bounty hunter with the highest moral code, as well as the strongest will to live. Embo was the bounty hunter who took a job protecting innocent farmers from pirates, risking his life in the process; certainly, he was being paid for the job, but I cannot see Bane or Boba doing such work. In addition, I believe his definite heritage as a warrior - some sort of cross between samurai and ninja - has also installed in Embo a sense of honor and something to fight for. Unlike Bane and Boba, Embo has a code to live by.
I chose to make Boba Fett "the bad" as a nod to the cold, heartless bounty hunter that we knew Boba as in The Empire Strikes Back. Boba Fett is the type of bounty hunter who doesn't want the spotlight, doesn't need glamour or honor, but is determined to stay on top. He will do anything for money, and he has fallen so far that he knows redemption is no longer an option for him. At the same time, I see Boba as having to embrace his father's legacy and his old roots, giving him a sense of belonging. All in all, he is mean, ruthless, and he knows what he wants.
I really, really wanted to make Cad Bane "the bad" (after all, Cad Bane's design was inspired by Angel Eyes in the first place). But after a lot of consideration I gave him the role of "the sleemo" instead. This is because, just like Tuco from "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", Bane is completely independent. He is not a member of the Bounty Hunter's Guild nor any other line of heritage or origin. The only person he looks out for is himself. And while Bane certainly has more class and formality than Tuco, they both seem to carry the same mentality that they will betray anyone for money and do not care who gets hurt along the way. Bane has no real moral code, and is as cold as he is ruthless.
Writing this trio in such a story has been an interesting challenge. For Embo, I've had to take a lot of liberty of developing the character further than we saw in "The Clone Wars" show. For Boba Fett, I made him darker than I imagine he would have been at this stage of his life, but I tried to keep the "young Boba" somewhat alive in some parts - so there is more "Boba" than "Angel Eyes." I also knew I would have to change parts of the story so Cad Bane acts more like Cad Bane instead of the idiotic asshole Tuco tends to be. So instead of totally doing away with the character of Tuco, I sort of mixed the two together. Bane will still be his old calculating, cold self, but I wrote Bane as I like to think he would be several years after the Clone Wars. Here, he is older; so he's seen more, he's done more, he has more scars, more experience. He is less hesitant to verbally express his frustration, and in addition, there are a lot less things he gives a shit about. To put it simply, Bane won't be a dumbass like Tuco...instead, he'll just be a smartass. So in a word, expect a ton of badass Embo, dark Boba, and smartass Bane.
There are also two other things I need to clarify. One, this story is not related to any of my other chapter fics or one-shots whatsoever. Two, in spite of that, I am also writing this story as practice for a future chapter fic I am currently outlining. What do I mean by that? Well, this chapter fic is also set in post-Revenge of the Sith...it will have a lot of spaghetti western influences...and three big stars are Cad Bane, Embo, and Boba Fett. And writing them here is helping me plan how I am going to depict them in this chapter fic. Some of the elements I introduce here will be further explained in the chapter fic (for example, how the public viewed bounty hunters who survived the Clone Wars, and the mentality of young vs. older bounty hunters). In a word, I am writing "The Good, the Bad, and the Sleemo" as a teaser of some of the things you can expect for the future chapter fic that is on the horizon. But that is all I can reveal for now.
Hope you enjoy the read!
