Familiarity with the inside of the stomach of a Sarlacc was not something most beings would brag about, and certainly not when that familiarity came from firsthand experience. Then again, the man trapped inside the fleshy maw of this Sarlacc was far from most beings. And despite all the times Boba found himself trapped inside of the Great Pit of Carckoon, it was now that Fett was surest he would die. This was not the pit on Tatooine, after all. The bounty hunter had vowed never to return to that cursed planet for so long as he lived. No, this particular Sarlacc bored itself into the ground on Felucia. An acquisition had run to the lush planet, and much like Solo all those years ago, managed a lucky hit on Boba's jetpack. This was again the reason for his fall, but also part of the reason he was certain this would be the end of the Fetts.
An overpowering stench plowed its way through the filters on his Mandalorian helmet, the putrid stench of the Sarlacc threatening once again to make Boba vomit. Not a good plan, if survival was indeed his ultimate goal. Given the choice between drowning in bile and being trapped in the stomach of this plantlike monster, though, was a tough choice.
Through a sub-vocalised command, the helmet sealed itself off, and switched to an infrared visual filter, helping the Mandalorian see. His jetpack had an oxygen tank with enough compressed air for 4 hours. However, the jetpack was obliterated not long ago by a lucky strike, as already established. The frame still rested on Boba's back, but it was simply dead weight now. Fortunately, the helmet itself had a 30 minute backup store of oxygen, which would buy Fett some time to think. This was an older Sarlacc, and its inner tendrils wrapped themselves tightly around Boba's waist and legs. He tried firing off a pair of rocket darts from hidden knee launchers, but the firing mechanism had already been damaged by stomach acids.
Disappointed, but not dissuaded, Boba tried this time using the flame thrower hidden in his wrist gauntlet. After a few seconds where it seemed like he'd get some wiggle room, gastric acids shot forward to extinguish the flames. He tried again, but with identical results. It was in this moment of worry, though that Boba happened to spy something that would haunt him for the rest of his life.
Back when he had steady employment with Jabba the Hutt, Boba often heard him taunted prisoners with the fact that the Sarlacc would take a thousand years to fully digest its meals. He'd never truly believed this, and after four escapes, he came to the conclusion that it simply mustn't be true. But the figure before him now made the bounty reconsider the possibility.
He was probably bipedal, once. Now, though, it was just a skeleton wrapped up by a few of the Sarlacc's tendrils. Not to keep him from stuggling, obviously. There was hardly anything left of the being, which is why when it /looked/ at Boba, he let out a cry of surprise. Worse, too, which set a panic into Boba's mind, was when the jaw of the creature moved!
There was hardly anything left, just a few scraps of skin around the joints. Its face wasn't anything but a skull. And yet, lidless eyes bore into the soul Boba had sold long ago, and it spoke. "Kill me." It wasn't a loud plea, and it was amazing that any semblance of lungs and vocal chords were left inside the man. But he repeated that desperate plea, and set Fett into a fight or flight mindset, causing him to struggle against the tendrils that held him in place, wasting precious oxygen.
"Kill me."
How the hell had this man survived for so long? The stomach acids of the Sarlacc were already boring their way through the weaker parts of Fett's Mandalorian battle armour and yet this man had clearly been down here for quite a long time. Would this be the future Boba had to look forward to for the next millennium?
"Kill me, please."
Only lending to the horror of the picture unfolding in front of Boba was the fact nagging in the back of his mind that this was real. The zombie like creature before him clinging to life by little more than a hair and a scrap of skin could not be an illusion. He was awake, and at no point ever in his life allowed himself the luxury of being careless with food, drink, bodily harm, or even the air he breathed. There was no way Boba could have been forced to see something that was not there. It meant he would either spend a thousand years as a corpse screaming for death, or that his sanity had already left. The prospect of either only further fueled his terror, and a few more futile attempts of escape, earning the bounty hunter even more seemingly endless tendrils to crush his body.
It was another few minutes of pointless struggle, draining all but the last few breaths of good air from his helmet before Boba would have smacked himself in the forehead, if the Sarlacc had permitted him. It was one of the oldest lessons Jango had ever given, and one he'd drilled into Boba's head so heavily that it was criminal that he'd forgotten. "If you give a Rancor a starship's laser battery, the best he will do with it is use it as a club. The best weapon at your disposal is your mind, son. Like every other weapon you'll come to use, you must keep it clean, you must keep it maintained, and you must never let anyone or anything take it from you."
That's what the Sarlacc was doing, Boba suddenly realized. That's why its snail paced digestive system existed in the first place, and why it kept its prey alive. A slightly psychic creature, feeding on panic and hopelessness. The answer suddenly seemed so clear to Fett that he would have cursed if he'd had oxygen to spare. All those other Sarlacc escapes were not of his own volition, but because he knew he'd escape eventually. His own doubt had spelled out his downfall.
All of a sudden, the creature's stomach began rumbling, the walls Boba had been pushed into suddenly not being so hard up against his back.
To say that the Mandalorian got spat out would be only mildly correct. The tendrils holding the Sarlacc's now spoiled meal in place instead threw him out of the gaping maw like a cephalopods of ancient legends tossing aside hunks of a ship in order to get to the tasty crew inside. Fett landed face first onto the damp soil of Felucia, where he rested for a few moments. It was a rare event for him, but one he'd needed, even in spite of the flesh eating bugs and giant Acklay native to the planet. After a minute, the green clad figure pushed himself up out of the thick fog that lay around Felucia's swamplands. Limping badly, Boba ignored the surroundings. Once again he'd survived the impossible. This time, though, he'd have something to sell. Who wouldn't pay through the nose for means of besting one of the Galaxy's most feared life forms, after all.