Ok, this story was an experiment following a conversation with a friend about whether of not the story of John Wick could exist in the Star Wars universe. It is set shortly before A New Hope. Let me know if its working with a review. Setting it for teen because of violence.
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Coruscant-Level 4225 Coco Town- Two months before the Battle of Scarif
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He opened the door, retrieved the HoloNews flimsi, closed, and locked the door behind him, without giving the outside as much as a glance. He walked deep into the luxury apartment, to the kitchen where he unceremoniously tossed the flimsi onto the table, opened a cupboard, and measured out a couple of tablespoons of caf into an old percolator. As it began to bubble, he opened the fridge, studied its contents for a moment or two, and then closed it, abandoning the thought of breakfast.
He poured himself a cup of caf and sat at the table. The news flimsi was ignored. He drank in silence for a long, dark, brooding moment, the loneliness was almost unsettling.
Suddenly, the comlink on the wall rang. He lowered his cup and starred at the device.
A beat... and he stood and walked slowly to answer it.
"This is him." As he listened to the voice on the other end, he remained still... stoic.
"Alright." He hung up the comlink and returned to the table, sinking slowly down into his chair. A long beat... ...and he began to weep, his hands trembled as he lowered his face in excruciating, utter, and complete sorrow.
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Coruscant-Apartment's Landing Pad
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He had shaved and showered, and was wearing an old -but well-fitted Alderaan-cut, gray suit. She had always liked him in it.
He pushed open the garage blast door . . . to reveal a legend in dire need of a total overhaul: a gift from his father, a green and red, modified Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft.
A smile played at his lips as he walked into the garage, running a hand along the chassis. It was desperately in need of a wash and wax. Behind him, the wall was lined with tools: a mechanic's dream enclave.
He entered and closed the ramp behind him. He took a moment to breathe it in: he loved this ship... although he hadn't taken very good care of it as of late.
He took a moment to remember happier times and then he typed the key code into the ignition, twisted the starter switch, and the engine coughed to life as the exhausts belched black smoke.
The ship pulled out of the garage, stalled briefly, but came back to life, and then puttered towards the nearest airway.
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Coruscant- Galactic Empire Medical Facility
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A soft rain had begun to fall outside. He carried a humble bouquet of blueblossoms. He slowly made his way down the eerily empty corridor. He paused before a picture on the wall, glancing at his reflection upon the glass. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and entered a room.
He slowly approached the figure lying in bed. She was surrounded by machinery, accompanied by the soft sounds of technology. He removed the old, wilted blueblossoms from the vase, tossed them in the trash, and replaced them with the fresh bouquet.
He pulled over a chair, reached out, and took Sinta's hand. She was comatose, her breathing synthetic . . . so many machines... so many wires, tubes, and monitors. He held her hand for a long moment in heavy silence.
Behind him a surgicall droid entered the room and placed a robotic hand on his shoulder. He lowered his head, and nodded.
With a bit of effort, he stood and stared down at her for a long moment, never once releasing his grip. He leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. "It had to be you . . . be seein' ya."
He stared at her for one last moment and then nodded giving finality to the situation. The medical droid turned off the machine; the lights dimmed, the room settled into silence.
Sinta's body grew still. The droid left him to be alone with his wife. When the droid was gone he whispered to her. "Be seein' you."
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Imperial City Funeral Pyres-North West Hemisphere Annex
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He watched as her body was slowly consumed by the flames. The fire took a long time fighting against the cold rain that marked the day. Under dozens of black umbrellas were gathered other mourners. They were mostly Sinta's family and friends. A few wore armor despite being in the heart of the Empire.
Some of them tried to talk with him before the service about Sinta or to remember his father. He politely excused himself from conversation to grieve in his own way.
When the services finished those gathered there made their way to their individual landspeeders. He hadn't wanted a wake so they would not be going to his home afterwards.
A familiar figure waited for him besides his landspeeder. Rain dripped down off the edges of the Duro's over-sized brim on his hat. He recognized him and made straight for him.
"It's been a while." The Duro greeted him. "My condolences."
He didn't say anything so the Duro continued. "How you holding up?"
"I keep asking 'why her'?"
"There's no rhyme or reason to this life. Its days like today, scattered among the rest."
"Are you sure?"
The Duro stared at him sternly. "Don't blame yourself."
"What are you really doing here, Cad?" He asked.
Cad sighed, "Just checking up on an old friend." Cad Bane saw he wasn't going to get much more out of him. He extended his hand. "Good bye, Boba."
As Cad Bane walked away Boba Fett turned and took one last look at the smoking remains of his wife's pyre. What was he going to do without her?
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The Fett's apartment
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Boba pulled into the building . . . and sat behind the controls for a long moment, his eyes unblinking . . . so very alone.
Boba finally entered the home. He stood before the wall of holopics, statuesque as he studied them... unmoving . . . and then, he snapped; his hands gnarled into fists, he roared with rage as he punched the pictures, ripping them from the wall, tossing them aside, eventually collapsing into a heap, out of breath, his knuckles bled.
A long beat . . . and he chuckled softly, pulling himself to his feet.
Unlike the rest of the house, this space was pristine and organized: one half designated as an impressive wood shop, the other an office space with a recliner and teleview screener. Boba sat at his desk with a stylus in hand, a pad of paper before him, thinking.
He sighed with a smile, placing the stylus upon the pad before he slid them both aside. Boba unscrewed the cap off the bottle of Corellian brandy and poured himself a healthy dose. He opened his desk drawer, reached into the back, and found an old pack of cigarras, half-empty. He tapped one from the pack, placed it between his lips, and lit it, taking a deep pull. He held it, and exhaled, his body relaxing.
He finished his drink along with the cigarra, poured himself another . . .and then opened a bottle of pills (The label reading SINTA FETT and HYPNOCAINE SPICE), poured them into a small mound upon the desk.
He stared at them for a long moment . . . before he selected one, studied it, and sighed and . . . there was a loud knock on the door.
Boba froze, not sure as to how best to proceed.
Someone knocked a second time. Boba sighed, dropped the pill back onto the mound, and walked upstairs.
At the door a delivery woman waited for him. Boba opened the door.
"Boba Fett?" She asked.
"Yes?"
She handed him a clipboard and a stylus. "Sign here, please."
In a daze, Boba signed the clipboard and handed it back to her.
"And the stylus?" She asked.
"Oh. Sorry." Boba handed her the stylus.
"Here you go!" The delivery woman handed him a card and a plastoid case by the handle which he took without looking. "Have a good day."
Boba nodded, and, as she took off, headed back inside.
Boba closing the door behind him . . . and was startled by a small bark. He paused and he looked down to find that he was actually holding a small pet carrier. He lifted it to look inside: the face of a young, orange akk dog puppy looked out at him, her tail wagged fiercely. She barked again, and Boba lowered it, confused.
He sat down on the couch and set the carrier on the table in front of him. He held the envelope in his hands. Inside, the akk pup laid down with paws crossed, studying him, tilting her head from side to side.
Boba opened the letter. The card inside was simple; white with a single blueblossom drawn upon it. Boba smiled, instantly knowing who it is from. He ran a thumb along the face of the flower. He hesitated, but opened the card.
"Dear, Boba. If you have received this, then I have not survived the surgery." Boba paused for a second to let the pain pass, "I am so, so sorry." Tears begin to well in Boba's eyes. "But you've still got a life ahead of you, and I intend for you to live it. You may think you've hidden things from me, but you haven't. I know you. And should this reach you in time -which I pray it has- I beg you, I implore you, to stop. To think. To live. I love you, Boba. With all my heart. Our years were good. The best, in fact. But I'd rather see you later . . . than sooner . . . your best friend . . . Sinta."
Boba lowered the letter, wiped the tears from his cheeks, and stared at the puppy . . . chuckling.
"Well played, Sinta." Boba reached across, and flicked open the pet carrier. "Well played."
The akk puppy scrambled out of the cage and studied him; sniffing, licking, and barking.
"So... you gotta' name?" Boba checked the collar to find a Blueblossom medallion which reads, "Blossom." Boba grimaced, "Seriously?"
As if in reply, Blossom barked. '
"All right, then," Boba smiled. "Blossom, it is."
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The Fett's apartment- Next morning
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The alarm chime sounded, followed by silence when a heavy hand droped down upon the snooze control. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Silence. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Silence. THUMP. THUMP. THUMP. Boba sighed and pulled back the covers. Suddenly a wet nose was pressed against his face followed by a slobbery tongue.
"I'm up. I'm up." Boba sat up and kicked out his legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Boba glanced over at Blossom who laid on the bed, her paws crossed, head tilted, and tail excitedly wagging in notes of three.
They went down to the kitchen where Boba fried up a couple of pieces of bantha bacon and added them to his plate of scrambled eggs and toast. He found a bowl and poured some cereal inside for the puppy. "We'll grab you some kibble later."
As Boba took his seat at the table to enjoy his caf, breakfast, and HoloNews, Blossom devoured her meal.
After Boba had taken a sonic shower in the fresher he grabbed the Slave 1's starter key and headed out the door. Blossom followed at his heels and ran up the ramp of the ship before Boba could even board. Blossom took a spot next to Boba as he guided the ship out of the garage. The little akk dog eagerly took everything in as they headed into morning traffic.
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Fuel Depot 5-24, CoCoTown
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Boba leaned against the side of the Slave 1 as he pumped sublight fuel into her tanks. Blossom sat up at the cockpit and barked at a pair of swoop bikes the raced past the station.
He could hear the approaching air speeder before he could see it. A racing model of an Incom UT-60 landed at the fueling pad next to the Slave 1. Heavy Isotope music blared from the vehicle.
Two Nikto emerged from the U-wing. One of them ran inside the Fuel Depot's shop. The other one opened the rear hatch to the ship and let out the U-wing's other passenger. Boba noticed it was a young Hutt, probably only a century or two old. The Hutt yelled at the Nikto to buy him Ebla from the shop.
After a few moments the Hutt lit a long cigarra and slithered over to Boba. "Nice ride. Firespray. She a 33?"
"31." Boba responded curtly.
"Beautiful ship."
"Thanks." Boba said replacing the fuel cap.
"How much?" The Hutt asked as he slapped a beat with his slimy hands on the side of Slave 1.
"Excuse me?"
The Hutt removed his cigarra and pointed it in Boba's face. "How much for the ship?"
"She's not for sale." Boba said as he climbed up the ramp.
The Hutt smirked as he slid to the bottom of the ramp. Evidently the conversation wasn't over, Boba thought. The Hutt saw Blossom at Boba's feet. "Ah, I love dogs." With a shake of his head, the Hutt spoke in Huttese. "Everything's got a kriffing price, schutta."
Boba spoke back in perfect Huttese, "Not this schutta."
Taken aback by Boba's fluency, he watched as Boba closed the ramp, gunned the engine, and drove off.
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Boba headed to a nearby warehouse district where he was allowed entry by a bored air traffic guard. He wanted to show Blossom just what the Slave 1 was capable of.
He revved the engines and shot towards the gap between warehouses like a rocket. The Slave 1 took corners no air speeder should have any business taking. The inertia dampers strained to keep up with his maneuvers.
He raced towards one building and fishtailed the Slave 1 in a perfect 180 drift blowing the tiles off of a nearby roof. Blossom barked with glee which caused Boba to laugh for the very first time in a long time.
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The Fett's apartment-that night
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Boba settled into bed for the night. Blossom looked up at him with her big black eyes. She didn't whine. She didn't have to. "Come on, then."
Blossom jumped up. The leap to the top of the sleeper was almost the limit her little legs could carry her. She curled up in Sinta's empty spot and closed her eyes. Boba rubbed her head for a minute then reached over and turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness.
In the middle of the night Blossom barked suddenly and jumped from the bed. Boba stirred as he heard her run to the bedroom door.
"Do you need to go out?" Boba groaned as he rolled out of bed. Boba opened the door. Blossom barked, and sprinted off into the darkness.
Boba walked down the darkened stairs to the living room. He wasn't going to bother with the lamps at this time of night if the akk dog just needed to be let out onto the patio.
He suddenly froze at the bottom of the stairs at the sight of two masked men standing in living room. A half-second before someone else came up behind him and drove the butt of a blaster against the side of Boba's head.
He dropped to the floor, hard. Someone kicked him in the stomach. The blaster swung down again hitting him in the arm. A boot smashed into his face. Through the pain he tasted the blood filling his mouth.
Across the room, the silhouette of Blossom's body faced him, her breathing was labored.
A voice spoke in Huttese. "You find the ignition switch?"
One of the masked men walks past, "Yeah. He kept 'em in a bowl like my old man."
Someone was smashing the pics on the wall behind Boba. He could hear Blossom's whine.
"Someone shut the kriffing dog up."
One of the men walked over to Blossom and hit her hard with a club. She went silent and limp. Boba could only focus on her. He wanted to protect her but could barely move. He could feel his consciousness slipping away.
Boba looked up. The man who had been behind him slithered into view. It was the Hutt from the Fuel Depot. Somehow they had followed Boba home and waited for him to fall asleep.
The Hutt leaned down to where its slimy breath coated Boba's face. "Sleep tight, schutta."
He cocked his arm back and then punched Boba square in the face, knocking him out cold.
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Sometime later Boba stirred.
Before his eyes open he could sense something lying next to him. A small tail rose slowly, and landed with a soft "thump".
Boba stirred with a groan, and opened his eyes . . . and found Blossom's nose touching his cheek. He suddenly sat up, remembering. He touched Blossom's side, and she whimpered.
Boba recoiled . . . and saw the trail of blood from where she was first injured. She had pulled her broken body over to his side. Boba laid down beside Blossom, and softly . . . tenderly . . . cradled her head in his hand, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Blossom relaxed, licked his thumb, and sighed one last time . . . and grew still.
Boba pulled himself up into a sitting position, cradled Blossom's still body . . . and began to cry . . . rocking back and forth.
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He searched a shelf in the garage and found a large box which he unfolded. He placed Blossom's body within. Boba reached down to retrieve Blossom's stuffed animal from the floor. He had bought it for her yesterday. He placed it down beside her.
With a tender -careful- touch, Boba removed Blossom's collar, placed it, almost with reverence, upon a nail in the wall. Boba stared down at his dog for a long moment . . . before he closed the box.
He went to the patio where he had a small tree in a large pot. He dug a small grave, placed the box, stared at it for a long moment . . . and then filled the hole.
On his hands and knees, Boba scrubbed the blood from the floor. Memories of the night before interplayed with Sinta's disease. Blossom was the last piece of Sinta he had and they took it from him.
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Dengar's Chop Shop, The Works, Coruscant
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Slave 1 raced into the driveway of the hidden garage. And stopped before a concealed entrance. The Hutt was driving and flashed an obscene gesture at the security cams, challenging anyone to deny him entry. The secret blast door opened and the Slave 1 drifted inside.
The facility was populated by dozens of hardened criminals, but had become the only family anyone there knew. This was a tight knit, loyal, and talented crew. A number of land and air speeders were being repaired, dismantled, painted, and the like: a non-stop flurry of activity.
Walking the floor, Dengar, the father figure of this little family, bantered with his crew before he paused to help lower a new engine into a landspeeder. An old Firespray, a memory from years ago, entered the chop shop.
The Hutt pulled into an empty space in the middle of the garage's floor. A pair of older mechanics noticed the ship. They shared an emotionless, yet knowing, look, set down their tools, and calmly left the building.
The Hutt and his two Nikto thugs poured out of the vehicle, laughing.
The Hutt spoke in Huttese as he yelled to the nearest mechanic "Echuta, dude! I'm gonna' keep this fierfeker!" he switched back to basic "Hey, where's Dengar at?"
Dengar walked towards the Hutt who spotted him approaching, his gaze locked onto the Slave 1. He recognized it.
"Yo, Dengar. I want some new BOSS numbers and some new papers." The Hutt laughed and pointed at his new ship.
"Where'd you get that ship?" Dengar placed his hands on his hips. The Hutt was taken aback by Dengar questioning him. "I asked you where the hell did you get it?"
"Who gives a shavit?" The Hutt shrugged.
Dengar waved a dismissive hand to the Hutt. "Alright get it out of my shop. Get it out right now." He then walked away turning his back to a ship he had never wanted to see again.
The Hutt slid forward. "Did you lose your poodoo, Dengar? Cause we own you."
Dengar stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the punk Hutt. "What did you say? What did you say to me?"
"We own you."
Dengar glared. "You don't own me, punk. I work for your father. All right?" The Hutt didn't know what to say so Dengar continued. "The owner of that ship. Did you kill him or what?"
"No. But I sure as hell fierfeked up his dog." The Hutt laughed.
Dengar smiled. "You fierfeked up his dog? That's what you did? All of you?" Dengar shook his head and chuckled. "That's crazy shavit, man."
Dengar's eyes grow wide . . . knowing. Surprising even himself, Dengar reared back and delivered a powerful blow to the center of the Hutt's face, shattering the small bone in his nose.
Stunned, the Hutt reeled and dropped backwards, cradling his face, blood seeped between his fingers. In a knee jerk reaction, one of the Nikto pulled his blaster and held in in Dengar's face.
The atmosphere immediately went tense, the air still, as, throughout the building, Dengar's mechanics each reached for a hidden weapon: vibroknives, machetes, blasters, and the like. Dengar glared, unblinking, at the Nikto as he walked towards him.
"Oh, look at you, that's wizard." Dengar said, "You pull a blaster? On me? In my house?"
Dengar pressed his forehead against the Nikto's outstretched blaster pistol. "Now, either you kill me right now . . . or you get the fierfek out of my shop."
Silence . . . as the other Nikto lowered his comrade's arm. The second Nikto faced Dengar. "Sutha ain't gonna' like this."
"How you know what Sutha likes and doesn't like?" Dengar replied. "I'll tell you something. He's going to understand."
The two Nikto helped to upright the young Hutt. The Hutt brushed them off. "You got a pair on you, scum!" But Dengar had already turned and was walking away. The Hutt called after him. "I guess we will be taking our business somewhere else."
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Outside Dengar's shop- several hours later
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The hover bus pulled away from the curb. Boba waited for it to pass and then crossed the street, making a b-line for Dengar's automotive.
He entered the building which was silent: everyone was gone. Boba carefully made his way through the floor, rounding a shelving array to find Dengar, a cigarra dangling from between his lips. His old friend was sitting on a folding chair at the front of a sports landspeeder. Dengar had his hands folded in front of him, a bottle of Old Janx Spirit and two glasses rested on the hood of the landspeeder.
"Hello, Boba."
"Is it here?" Silence. Dengar flipped over the glasses and poured two drinks.
Dengar took one of the drinks and looked down into the liquor. "It was." He said and then downed his drink in a single swallow. "Voras the Hutt nicked it."
"Sutha's son?"
Denger nodded that it was so. Sutha the Hutt ran Coruscant for the Hutt Council on Nal Hutta. His brother was none other than Jabba Desilijic Tiure. Dengar sighed, never taking his eyes off of his drink, "Yeah."
After another moment of silence Dengar asked, "So what are you going to do?"
"I need a ride."
Two minutes later the landspeeder roadster charged out of Dengar's chop shop. Boba was at the controls.
Dengar watched him go. He sighed and poured himself another drink. A comlink was ringing from the back of the shop. Dengar took his time getting to it. Not many beings would be calling at this hour unless it was bad. Dengar knew it was going to be bad.
"Dengar speaking."
"I heard you struck my son." The voice of Sutha the Hutt came from the other side of the connection.
"Yes, sir, I did." Dengar answered respectively.
"And may I ask why?"
"Yeah, well, because he stole Boba Fett's ship, sir. And, uh, killed his dog."
. . . . . .
"Oh."
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Sutha the Hutt's residence, Uscru Entertainment District, Coruscant
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Sutha the Hutt slid down the ramp from the upstairs living quarters to his executive office. He was so lost in thought he didn't even notice the meeting taking place at the board table on the far side of the large room. He barely detected the approach of his majordomo, Rako Hardeen.
"Sutha." Rako called for his attention.
"Yeah?"
Rako glanced at the men at the table. "They've agreed to your terms." Sutha merely nodded his approval. "It's not like you gave them much of a choice anyway though, right?"
Sutha didn't answer.
Rako was surprised by his boss's lack of reaction so leaned closer so the men at the table wouldn't overhear. "Congratulations . . . sir?"
"Have you seen my son?"
"I'll call his boys and see where he's at."
"Have them bring him here straight away. No dawdling." Sutha looked at the men at the table. "Get rid of them."
"Yes, sir."
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An hour later Voras entered the room as if he already owned the place. His Nikto guards were stopped by Sutha's security and kept outside the room. Sutha himself stood behind the bar pouring himself an expensive drink.
Rako Hardeen, still not aware of what was happening, leaned against the bar and resigned himself to following whatever Sutha was playing at tonight. "How was your trip, kid?" Rako asked.
"We won't be hearing from the Pikes anytime soon." Voras proclaimed proudly. "Or ever."
Rako chuckled. Sutha made no response. He took two full glasses in his hands and came around the bar to face his son. He came so close Voras had to nervously slide backwards a few feet. Had he done something to anger his father, he wondered.
Sutha said nothing. He handed Voras one of the glasses and then clinked his own with his son's. Sutha turned back to the bar as Voras downed his glass in a single gulp.
Sutha sat his unconsumed glass on the bar and turned back to his son. "That's a nice chain." Sutha said putting one hand on the thick silver chain around Voras's neck.
"Thanks."
"Yeah." Without warning Sutha drove his other fist deep into Voras's belly. Right where he knew his largest kidney would be.
With the wind knocked out of him, Voras dropped to his hands, opened his mouth to say something, but instead vomited, he gagged as he gasps for breath. Sutha casually returned to the bar, grabbed a towel, and tossed it down onto his son.
In Huttese now, Sutha addressed him "Clean that up."
"Should I go?" Rako asked, getting up.
Sutha spouted something else in Huttese to his henchman. Rako doesn't understand. "Sutha, Basic Standard, please."
"Stay! Boonta dammit!" Sutha yelled at him. Shutting up the human who retook his seat at the bar.
"What did I do?" An injured Voras asked from the floor.
"You fraked up." Sutha told him
"We did what you asked. No one saw shavit."
Sutha reached down and grabbed his son by the arms. He jerked him upright again. "I'm not talking about the Pikes on Ryloth."
"What then?" Voras was still confused. "You mean Dengar's? So I stole a kriffing ship."
Sutha wound back and punched his son in the gut again. This time in his second largest kidney. A couple more and the kid would be pissing blood for days.
"Echuta!" Rako shouted and stood up again. This time because Voras crashed into the bar knocking over Sutha's drink.
"You stay." Sutha pointed at the human. Rako held out his empty hands to show that he was keeping his cool.
Sutha took his time and calmly poured himself another drink. "It's not what you did, son, which angers me so. It's who you did it to."
Voras was confused. "Who? That kriffing nobody?"
"That 'kriffing nobody' . . . is Boba Fett."
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The Fett's apartment
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He was wearing only an undershirt and pants and sweating profusely. Boba wielded a sledgehammer which he swung down onto the floor time and time again, until he cracked the duracrete foundation.
As he brushed off chunks and dust from the duracrete Boba revealed an old trap door in the floor. He shined a lamp down a thin corridor stacked high with a variety of boxes, military containers, and briefcases.
Boba selected a black case, unclasped it, and swung it to reveal a number of blasters, silencers, ammunition and strange rows of aurodium-minted coins.
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Sutha's residence
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"He was once an associate of ours." Sutha started to explain to his confused offspring. "We called him Baba Yaga.
Voras quickly translated the ancient Huttese term into basic, "The Boogeyman?"
"Well, Boba wasn't exactly the boogeyman. He was the one you sent to kill the kriffing Boogeyman."
"Oh." Voras was beginning to realize where he had screwed up. Much too slowly to do him any good now.
"Boba is a man of focus . . . commitment . . . sheer will." Sutha slithered over to face his son up close. "Something you know very little about."
Sutha took a deep breath remembering something from the past. I once saw him kill three Wookiees in a cantina . . . with a stylus. With a . . . farking . . . stylus."
Sutha turned away from Voras and slowly approached Rako Hardeen, who was looking down at the floor trying to avoid their attention. Sutha came alongside the human and then, with a look towards Voras, suddenly mocked driving a stylus into Rako's head. Rako jumped nervously but didn't say anything to interrupt his boss.
Sutha slowly moved back behind the bar where he prepared himself another gallon-sized drink. "And then suddenly one day he asked to leave. It's over a woman, of course. So I made a deal with him. I gave him an impossible task. A bounty no one could have pulled off." Sutha took a large pull from his beverage. "The bodies he buried that day . . . laid the foundation of what we Hutts are now here in the Core Worlds."
Sutha came around the bar again to face his son. He wanted him to feel the impact of everything he was telling him. He wanted to understand how bad he had fierfeked up. "And then, my son, a few days after his wife died . . . you steal his dead father's starship . . . and kill his kriffing akk dog."
Voras lunged forward to grab Sutha's arm. "Father, I can make this right."
"Oh, how do you plan that?"
"By finishing what I started."
Sutha sneered and turned to Rako. "Didn't he hear a kriffing word I said?
Voras broke into Huttese to plead with him. "Father, I can do this. Please!"
Sutha threw his arms around his boy's shoulders and embraced him. "Voras, Voras, listen." He grabbed the folds of fat on Voras's neck and held him still as he whispered in his ear. "Boba will come for you. And you will do nothing . . . because you can do nothing. So get the fark out of my sight."
Sutha released Voras who quickly retreated from the room. Sutha didn't bother to watch his son run. Instead he went to the far side of the room and opened a large hidden wall safe. Inside were stacks of a familiar aurodium-plated coin, Imperial Credits and several leather bound envelopes. Sutha removed one of the latter and brushed the dust off it.
It was a list of comlink numbers. There was one Sutha had never wanted to lose at the top of the list. Rako handed him a comlink and Sutha entered the numbers himself. He couldn't recall the last time he didn't have a henchman or minion do such a menial task for him.
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The Fett Apartment
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Boba didn't react when the comlink chimed. In fact, he had been expecting this call. After all, it was polite manners on the behalf of the expected caller.
He picked up the comlink and held it to his ear.
"Hello, Boba." The unmistakable voice of Sutha the Hutt came through from the other side.
Boba stayed silent.
"I heard about your wife, and I'm sorry. My condolences."
Boba stayed silent.
"It seems to be fate, or happenstance or just bad kriffing luck that has caused our paths to cross again." Sutha said.
Boba stayed silent.
"Boba?"
Boba stayed silent.
"Let us not resort to our baser instincts and handle this like civilized beings. To move on . . ."
Boba deactivated the comlink.
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Sutha's Executive Suite
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Sutha placed his hands on the table before him and braced himself as he leaned forward. Letting out a long sigh.
"What did he say?" Rako asked.
"Enough."
"Oh, by the Core . . ." Rako sighed in frustration. Sutha felt it too. An impending doom.
Sutha turned to his man. "Task a crew."
"How m, m, many?" Rako stuttered nervously.
"How many do you have?"
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The Fett's apartment
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Boba took a cold water shower in the fresher instead of a sonic. The freezing water ran down his back and over tattoos in Mandalorian that said his father's personal motto, Fortune Favors the Bold.
Fortune had not favored the legendary Jango Fett at Geonosis almost twenty years ago. Boba still recalled the pain of watching Jedi Master Mace Windu decapitate his father at the very moment of the Clone War's birth. He buried that hatred he felt for the long dead Jedi and used it to sharpen his skills and training until he had surpassed even his father as the best bounty hunter the Galaxy had ever known.
It wasn't a goal he set out to achieve. He took no glory from it. It's simply what he was.
He dried off and went upstairs. He opened his closet and retrieved his armor from the back of his closet. It had stayed there throughout the time with Sinta. It was not needed then.
It was needed now.
He slowly donned each piece, checking for functionality and ease of movement. Lastly donning the green, t-visored helmet that marked him as a Mandalorian warrior.
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He'd left the lamps on downstairs and darkened his waiting spot in his bedroom. He knew they would come soon and he wanted them accustomed to the light.
His helmet contained a feed to a security cam on the outside balcony and another one in the hallway leading to his front door.
He could see them approaching. He didn't bother to count them. What difference did it make in the end? They were Hutt sleemos; Niktos, Rodians, Weequays and even a large Quarren from the looks of it. All of them heavily armed and with their weapons already drawn and held at the ready.
They silently breached the front door and balcony at the same time. They were professionals but Fett was better. He heard the slide of glass doors downstairs and the slight creak on the floorboards near the front entrance. He picked up his modified EE-3 blaster and then killed the power to the apartment. His home instantly plunged into darkness.
They were outside his bedroom. At least three Weequay dressed in black with small lamps attached to the ends of their blasters to provide them light.
Boba Fett burst out of the darkness. He put his first bolt into the face of the nearest thug. The second one swung his blaster towards the advancing bounty hunter but Boba was quicker. With his free hand he grabbed the Weequay's blaster and wrenched it towards the ceiling. He put a round into the hitman's heart and as he fell Boba put another one into his forehead splattering the wall with Weequay blood.
Boba spun and put another bolt into the chest of the last Weequay, killing him and causing him to fall backwards down the stairs.
A Nikto was on the stairwell and avoided the falling body that went past him. He started to point his blaster towards the second floor. But not before Boba Fett dropped him with a single shot to the top of the Nikto's head.
Boba heard movement below. He didn't want to wait for the men down there to get ready for him. He took a single step forward and then leaped down the entire stairwell without touching a single step.
A Rodian in the living room fired off a trio of blaster rounds as he descended but misjudged Boba's leap and missed entirely.
Boba Fett landed on his feet at the bottom of the stairs. He instantly had his blaster aimed and put a bolt through the Rodian's heart. He adjusted slightly and put another round into a nearby Nikto's head who had been taking cover behind Boba's couch. Both bodies collapsed lifelessly, but Boba had already left the room before they hit the floor.
Boba was a force of nature as he cleared out the apartment. Unstoppable.
In the hallway another Rodian emerged from the refresher. His blaster aimed just slightly to the left of Boba. Boba didn't let him correct his aim, instead he put a single bolt through the Rodian's mouth and brain stem.
Boba stepped into an open coat closet and swapped tibanna cartridges out in his blaster. He could hear more of them approaching down the hall.
Suddenly a hand holding a blaster went past the closet door.
Boba Fett didn't hesitate. He grabbed the blaster then smashed down with his elbow on a Nikto hitman's arm. The Nikto grunted in pain but didn't release the blaster.
Boba pushed him forward into the atrium. Both he and the Nikto refused to release their grip on the blaster. Boba slammed the Nikto into a bookcase. Then pounded his knee into the assassin's side. Boba spun and then flipped the Nikto over his head, slamming him into the hard wood floor where he finally dropped his weapon.
Boba had it in his hand. Raised it and blasted a Weequay, who was charging across the room to help his comrade. The Weequay went down with a bolt sized hole where his eye used to be.
Boba pointed down and fired a shot into the fallen Nikto's head, finishing him off.
Boba looked towards the balcony. A Rodian and a Nikto were approaching the door with aimed flechette launchers.
Boba didn't hesitate. He charged across the room and slammed into the Rodian coming through the entrance. He slapped aside the flechette launcher and leapt at the Rodian's chest, wrapping his legs around alien's hips.
The Rodian was already going down from the unconventional tackle as Boba Fett aimed his EE-3 over his head and put a single round into the Nikto's chest, causing him to fall backwards and topple over the balcony wall.
The Rodian had barely hit the ground when he found himself staring at the barrel of Boba Fett's blaster. It was the last thing he ever saw as the Mandalorian pulled the trigger.
Boba Fett rolled off the dead Rodian and as he jumped back to his feet he put two perfect shots into the foreheads of two charging Weequays from across the room.
As they fell Boba saw a third hitman dive for cover behind the wall leading to the kitchen. Boba ran across the room and took cover on the other side of the wall from the hidden Weequay.
Boba had been in a situation like this before. He ducked just as the Weequay squeezed off several bolts that pierced the wall above Boba Fett's head.
Boba blasted back at an upwards angle. His two bolts caught the Weequay in the shoulder and arm causing him to tumble from cover. Boba grabbed his wounded arm and pulled him forward. He slammed the butt of his EE-3 into the Weequay's head and then threw him through the sliding glass door. The Weequay landed in a shower of broken glass out on the balcony. A second later Boba Fett finished him off with a bolt to the back of the head.
Boba entered the kitchen and caught two last hitman by surprise. The first one, a Rodian, came from his side with his blaster raised. But Boba punched him before he could fire.
He grabbed the front of the Rodian's clothes and picked him up. He then slammed him down onto the room's sturdy kitchen top.
The last man, the large Quarren, attacked while Boba was still entangled with the Rodian, Boba kicked the Quarren across the room. A mistake, Boba realized as the second hitman smashed into the counter with the cutting vibroknives.
Boba was trying to throttle the Rodian as the Quarren drew a large vibroknife and came back at him swinging the blade at Boba's side. The Quarren made the mistake of slashing downwards and Boba was able to parry his arm with his free hand before the Quarren could land a hit.
He shoved the Quarren away. The few feet of space gave Boba just the time he needed to snap the Rodian's neck and focus all of his attention on his last attacker.
The Quarren attacked with vibroblade again. This time Boba reacted in time to grab hold of the weapon's hilt.
Both men struggled for control of the weapon. Kicking and kneeing the other as the wrestled for dominance. The fight threw both men off their balance and they teetered out of the kitchen and on top of one another in the foyer in front of the front door.
Boba had the dominant position and as the Quarren tried to sit up he spun around to the hitman's backside. The Quarren tried to stab upwards and behind him at Boba but Boba deflected each attempt with hard parries to the Quarren's arms.
He got control of the Quarren's hands and aimed the vibroblade at the man's chest. But the Quarren was strong and Boba Fett couldn't pull the weapon from behind with enough strength. He reached down and grabbed the Quarren by the tentacles and pulled him backwards. As the Quarren struggled onto his back Boba scrambled on top of him using his weight and gravity to assist him in driving the weapon towards the Quarren's heart.
Keeping one hand on the vibroblade, Boba struck down with his other hand like a sledgehammer three times driving it deep into the Quarren's chest.
The fight was over.
Boba Fett was still on top of the Quarren's body trying to regain his breath. He didn't think he had stopped for air since he had burst from his bedroom and killed the first assassin.
Sutha did this, Boba thought. If he wants to stand in Boba's way then so be it.
There was a chime as the front door alarm sounded. Boba was gasping for air as he looked up at the sudden disturbance.
He got to his feet, still in full armor and approached the door. He tucked his EE-3 behind his back as he did so.
Boba lowered the pistol and peered through the peephole to see an officer of the Imperial City Guard standing at his door. A beat . . . and Boba slipped the blaster in the back of his pants, unlocked, and opened the door.
"Evening, Boba." The Imperial officer greeted him. Boba Fett recognized him despite the assault armor the officer wore.
"Evening, Fox." Boba replied. "Noise complaint?"
"Noise complaint." Fox agreed.
Fox leaned to the side and peered past Boba. Boba followed his gaze . . . to see that the dead Quarren was in Fox's direct line of sight. Fox removed his helmet to reveal a much older, yet identical, face to Boba's own. "You, ah, working again?"
"No, just sorting some things out."
"Ah, well . . ." Fox nodded. They went back a long way together. "I'll leave you be then. Goodnight, Boba."
"Goodnight, Fox."
Fox went back down the hallway. Boba watched him for a second and then closed his front door.
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Boba turned on the kitchen lamp and sat down at the kitchen counter. The body of a Rodian hitman still rested on the table next to him. He activated his home comlink and dialed a long memorized number.
As he waited for the call to be answered he played with a small stack of fifteen aurodium coins in his hand. "This is Fett."
. . .
"Yes, Boba Fett, that's right."
. . .
"I'd like to make a dinner reservation for fifteen."
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Twenty minutes later there was a knock on the door. Boba went to answer it.
When he opened the front door he was greeted by the sight of a short Phindian flanked by four rather large Gamorrean brutes.
"Good to see you, Boba." The Phindian took off his hat and greeted Boba Fett.
"Morelo." Boba stepped back and allowed the party to enter his home. Morelo Eval stayed in the foyer as the four Gamorreans went past carrying a wide assortment of industrial cleaning supplies and cutting tools.
"You look good." Morelo replaced his hat. "And here I feared you left all this behind."
The four Gamorreans were thorough. They picked up every blaster and spent tibanna casing spread throughout the home. They ripped out Boba's carpets and wall paper that were covered in hitmen blood and gore. They dropped plastoid sheets down and piled up the bodies on top. Each corpse bound at the feet and hands to prevent rolling away. Their weapons were placed in their holsters and wrapped up along with the bodies. They mopped up blood in the kitchen and balcony and spackled over carbon scoring along the stair case, new carpet and floor boards were brought in and quickly and expertly replaced by the Gamorrean workers. They even replaced Boba's shattered glass door on his balcony with a replacement they had brought along for just such a need.
They wrapped each tarp in tape and disguised them as either garbage or rolls of carpeting and then removed each body from Fett's apartment by way of a garbage air speeder that hovered just outside of Boba's balcony. The whole process took thirty minutes.
When they were done Boba walked Morelo to the door. The Phindian looked to him. "Will I be hearing from you anytime soon?"
Boba placed fifteen aurodium coins in Morelo's palm. "Goodbye, Morelo."
Morelo Eval smiled before he followed his workers down the hall. "Boba."
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So what did everyone think? Should I go on and finish?