"Bet's on you, mercenary."
The hardened killer was sitting across from a highly intoxicated Trandoshan, watching as he rocked back and forth on his chair, slurring in an unrecognisable intergalactic tongue while he laid his cards on the table. In this low-level club on Tatooine, there were no rules. Bounty hunters, professional gamblers, slavers, weapons manufacturers and gangsters largely populated the den, all with similar interests. Credits.
For Boba Fett, pazaak was a simple yet effective way of making money, but on this night, he wasn't interested in the credits. He was here on business. Having collected several helmets, masks and sets of armour from numerous targets over the years, which were then painted and modified, it wasn't difficult for Fett to maintain his anonymity on the dry planet. The authorities, and more importantly, the Hutts, weren't looking for someone they didn't know.
One of Fett's most prized helmets was from a clone commander, who he once considered an ally. Commander Rhys betrayed Fett by revealing critical information about Jango's involvement with Count Dooku and the Trade Federation to the Jedi Council. The killer followed Rhys for days, watching his movements and planning the attack. Following him to Felucia, Fett shot Rhys with a slow-acting degradable poison dart, making it appear that the wildlife had got the better of him. Although young in age, the advanced tactical training Fett received on Kamino meant he was one of the most proficient and deadly assassins in the galaxy.
"The Jedi you seek is on Manaan, on assignment for his master." Said TI-675, the droid sitting to Fett's left. Perfect, he thought, that's less than two parsecs away.
"Manaan's a big place, clanker." Replied Fett.
"I have the coordinates. You win the game, you can have them."
BANG!
With little patience, Fett pulled his blaster from his belt and shot the droid in the neck, a precisely calculated, swift move intended to disable the droid. The killer replaced his gun, stood up and twisted the droid's head out of its socket, leaving the body slumped over the card table.
"I would've won anyway."
Fett threw his pazaak cards on the table and left the den in complete silence, dancers eyeing him with keen admiration, fellow hunters scared and potential employers muttering amongst themselves.
Fett was never the type for negotiation. Always moving from job to job, he liked the mystery and intimidation that came with his line of work. The bounty hunter returned to his father's ship Slave I in a private docking bay and connected the droid's head to the onboard computer. The massive engines onboard ensured a short travel time and that he evaded any prying eyes.
From a distance, the water planet was quite beautiful. A blue marble in the vast blackness of space.
As soon as Fett docked in Manaan, it was evident that a Jedi's hand had been at work. People were… peaceful. There was little conflict, the bars and clubs seemed to be filled with jolly racegoers and shopkeepers were smiling.
Disgusting, thought Fett. Where's the fun in peace?
As far as he could tell, the Sith presence was virtually non-existent. Perhaps the Jedi had finished his assignment. Fett knew a little about Morsti Rassoon, enough to locate him. He was a negotiator, very wise and knowledgeable, using Jedi mind tricks and senses to aide his cause. However, he wasn't much of a fighter. He very rarely resorted to combat, believing it to be an ineffectual motivator. Although he had little to do with the death of his father, Rassoon was partly responsible for the Republic alliance with Kamino, earning Fett's desire for his blood as he always wished for his home planet to remain independent.
Keeping to the shadows, Fett quickly located his Jedi target. He was on a neighbouring platform; lower in height compared to the one Fett was on, leaving the courtrooms after suspected negotiations.
For the challenge, the killer decided to eliminate his target up close. Fett chose his favourite weapon for the job, a sabre he acquired off a recent Jedi, modified to a black colour and completely silenced, perfect for stealth. His jetpack, similar to that of his father, would provide a quick escape from the scene.
Rassoon stopped at the edge of the platform, overlooking the massive body of water below as he spoke on his comm-link.
This is too easy.
Fett knew that he could throw the body into the water, leaving no trace. With the assistance of his jetpack, the killer jumped over to the platform, crouching in the shadows several metres from the Jedi.
With Rassoon still on his comm-link, the hunter could see the Jedi's hand slowly moving towards his sabre.
This will have to be quick.
The watchful assassin acted on instincts, firing a cable from his wrist-launcher. It wrapped around the Jedi's body and arms, rendering his hands useless. Like a silent ghost, Fett quickly sprinted across to his target, pierced the silenced sabre through his heart and pushed him over the railing, lost in the raging torrent below.
Clean kill.
Fett looked around and saw no raised suspicions from bystanders. He knew the Jedi would come snooping around, but he would be a long way away before that happened. The killer took a longer, but more concealed route to his ship, satisfied with his work.
Upon arriving in his ship, he found a message from Special Officer Vice, a clone who regularly provided information to Fett. He was one of the few acquaintances the killer maintained, as they spent several years together in training, sharing common interests in weaponry, starfighters and a general distaste for the Jedi.
"Boba, I found Windu for you. He's on Coruscant, about to arrest the Chancellor for 'high treason'."
"Cheers, Vice."
This was the moment he'd been waiting for. To exact revenge upon his father's killer was Boba's ultimate desire. It was the reason he hunted the Jedi. Ever since that fateful day on Geonosis, Windu had been Fett's most important target.
Fett figured Chancellor Palpatine would be in his office, which is where Windu would find him. He entered the coordinates into Slave I and set off, eager to remove that scum from the galaxy.
The bounty hunter landed his ship in a docking bay, the owner of which had made an "agreement" with Fett. It was several hundred metres away from the office, so as not to raise any suspicions or alert any attention to his whereabouts. He knew not to take any chances with this kill. This was important.
A quick scout of the area revealed a skyscraper, one of thousands on the planet, directly opposite the Chancellor's office. Once inside the apartment, a muffled blaster shot to the back of the head removed the obstacle that was the Rodian occupant of the prime position, looking down at the infamous long, curved window.
Lying on his front, the assassin set up his sniper on the balcony of the apartment, a clear view into the office in the crosshairs.
No activity.
The office was empty. Perhaps the Chancellor was out? Or Fett was too late.
A cold bead of sweat ran down Boba's forehead, made more problematic by his modified Mandalorian helmet.
Suddenly, Palpatine came into view, a Sith lightsaber in hand, fending off Master Windu and Kit Fisto as they edged closer to the window.
You have no hope, old man.
Surprising even Fett, Palpatine struck down Kit Fisto, leaving him lifeless on the red carpet. The bounty hunter maintained his sight on the pair, visualising a target on Windu through the scope.
As they came closer to the window, it shattered, exposing them to their watchful assassin. With such a distance to his target, Fett knew he'd have to wait until the Jedi was stationary to shoot. He watched on as Windu disarmed the Chancellor, preparing to make a killing strike.
Perfect.
Suddenly, Anakin Skywalker burst into the room, horrified at the scene in front of him.
Hands off Skywalker, this one's mine.
Getting impatient, the assassin knew he'd have to take a shot, or else he'd miss his only chance.
Fett watched as Windu raised his saber, but Skywalker stepped in, severing his hand to prevent the killing of Palpatine. In an evil, sadistic manner, the cowering
Chancellor unleashed an outburst of lightning from his fingertips upon the Jedi Master. The assassin watched in anger as his target writhed in pain before being forced out of the window and into the bustling city below.
No. All this work for nothing.
Fett's prized target was dead, but not in the way he wanted.
Skywalker, you are dead.
Fury swept over the bounty hunter. His new target was Skywalker. He continued to watch as the disgraced Jedi fell to his knees before Palpatine in, from what he could see, an initiation process.
The assassin wanted to catch Skywalker alone, so he waited for his target to be alone in the room.
Fortunately, the hooded Chancellor soon left his office, leaving Skywalker on his knees, coming to terms with himself.
It's now or never.
With the use of his jetpack, Fett flew into the office, blaster pointed at the Jedi.
"You took my target, Skywalker."
He fired several times at Skywalker. Trained reflexes reflected the shots back towards the bounty hunter, twice hitting him. He continued to fire, determined to finish his target. Fett was struck multiple times, but not fatally.
"Finish it." Said the injured assassin, refusing the shame of a failed kill.
"I have work for you. Join me, and you will have your revenge on the Jedi. Only I will know of your existence." Replied Skywalker, the darkness surrounding him.
"All of the Jedi?"
"Every. Last. One."