Disclaimer: I don't, like, own any of these characters...
well, the majority anyway. So don't sue me. I'm poor anyway.
Star Wars: The Hunt
Chapter 1: The Escape
By: Darren Pennington
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The twin
suns of Tatooine began rising over the tall, jagged mountains just east of the
vast desert that would eventually lead to Jabbas Palace. It had only a day ago
that a group of Rebels freed the infamous Han Solo, a former freelance
mercenary, along with some friends consisting of a Wookiee and an enslaved
princess. It had also been with that day that Boba Fett, a legendary hunter to
say the least, had fallen victim to the Sarlaac like so many others that
day. But unlike those others, Fett had
an undying will to survive... and it wouldn't be long until somehow Fett would
even figure a way to escape death at such certainty.
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Fett
lay inside the belly of the Sarlaac.
Here trauma was inevitable. The
screams were horrifying gurgles of sudden death as the Sarlaacs acidic entrails
burned through them all... digesting slowly...an agonizing pain to say the very
least. Fett had witnessed more pain and
death inside the Sarlaac for the past day than he had in his career of hunting
all together. Sure he'd seen death,
he'd dealt death, but never was he surrounded with so much confusion and horror.
He'd witnessed a number commit suicide, a well chosen fate compared to that of
the Sarlaacs. Still, Fett refused to
give up. The Sarlaacs belly burned relentlessly with its digestive acid, but
Fett was well protected, having the armor worn by the early Mandalorian
Commando's. But even at that it was
only a matter of time before the armor was rendered useless... He knew that,
and he knew the great pain it'd be, the acid had already torn at Fetts
unarmored arms and feet, undoubtedly scarred.
Among
Fett there was another man, apparently still sane. He narrowed his eyes to Fett, his face was pale as if the hunter
still kept a fearful aura about him...But the man kept his cool and spoke.
''Aye you... try blastin this thing? M'rifles got nothin
left in'er.''
Fett replied as if agitated, ''I've already tried that...
its pointless. The creature only gets angry.''
''Well, how bout'a ....uh.... got some'a them high chargin
explosives?'', the man returned.
''You're meaning a detonation device of some sort?''
''Yeah! Yeah! One'a those.'', the man nodded quickly, even
after he spoke.
''No.''...a subtle reply from Fett.
By this time there was barely anyone alive. This, however, only meant less screaming and
more bodies to walk over... it wasn't helpful for the amount of room
either. The Sarlaac pits stomach was
only about the size of a small room.
Fett turned his head from the man, and proceeded in devising
a way, if any, to free himself... He muttered under his breath, ''A
high....chargin....explosive?'', he shook his head.
''Wait.'', Fett
thought..., ''My jetpack... the fuel...''
Fett grinned with hope.
He unstrapped the jetpack from his back and pondered how he was to do
this. He knew it would be pointless
trying to ''fly'' his way out...too many cons than pros to make such an
attempt. ''Hmm...'', Fett thought
again. He raised his blaster rifle with
a tattered, gloved hand and sent a shot straight at the acidic walls of the
Sarlaacs belly... It screamed and shook, giving a long painful moan. The man Fett had previously spoken to was
alerted, ''I thought you said you already tried that!'', he yelled.
''I did. Just making
sure she was up for the big one...'', he retorted as he holstered his rifle.
''Big...wha?'', the man inquired, confused.
''My suggestion is you take cover... I'll be leaving
now..'', Fett answered in certainty... Only he wasn't totally certain. He only knew that even if he failed, no one
would would live to witness and tell about it.
Besides, if he stayed here he would surely die. If his plan worked, he may survive.
The man, still confused, said nothing more...Fett tossed his
jetpack to the soft, swampy feeling floor of the Sarlaacs belly. Fett unsheathed the bootknifes at his heels
and took one in each hand. With a small
leap he dug the blades into the side of the Sarlaacs stomach...using the knifes
to scale upwards, climbing up the way he came in. Fett knew it would be as useless to try and simply climb out than
to ''fly'' out... But he had somewhat a plan.
He let loose of one of the blades, unholstering his rifle in the free
hand. His balance was barely with him
at this point. He took aim, clinching
his teeth, then fired a bullseye shot at his jetpack which lie on the floor of
the stomach. On impact the jetpack,
containing fuel, exploded sending those below to certain death, as for Fett...
just what he hoped. In that instant of
impact, a surge of energy from the explosion sent Fett flying upwards, the only
direction he could have went... The explosion, of course, caused the Sarlaac a
great deal of pain and in turn it began crying in agony. Fett couldn't come to the realization of
which direction he was going... His head was spinning, his body writhed in
different directions, and eventually his helmet was thrown off. It was only seconds later, but felt like
days that Fett was spit from the dead Sarlaac.
Fett climbed his way to the desert floor...and
collapsed. His body was scarred and
bleeding. He barely summed the energy
to raise his head and look himself over.
His boots were nearly melted away, his armor practically unrecognizable,
his helmet gone... Fett dropped his head to the desert floor... The sun had
just risen and he was tired, nearly dead...Here he would rest, hoping someone
might find him...and in the distance there appeared a ship....