Author's Note:
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Hello everyone! So far so good. I hope you enjoy this one. It's still too early to be awake and posting, I nearly gave you guys chapter 5! I've got the right chapter now though, so everyone enjoy!
They tore through the atmosphere and into space ignoring the furious blinking of the communications system. As he prepared to calculate their jump to hyperspace Syntas noticed the blood dripping from the back of the chair. She came up behind him.
"You're bleeding. Let me help."
He shook his head, pointing at the blips that identified their pursuers. She studied him for a moment trying to discover why he didn't speak, when she knew he could. The image of him falling and disappearing under the clouds of blue gas came back to her.
"Your helmet doesn't have filters does it?" Her tone was quiet and almost hesitant. He shook his head again, not bothering to face her. The Slave 1 spun off to one side veering away from the ships pursuing them. Syntas did not recognize them, but then as a Padawan she had never had much to do with the bounty hunters.
She studied the back of his head while she clung to the ship while they spun and turned to escape the planet's gravity well. He looked young under the armor despite the age of both his armor and his ship. She recognized that it was Mandelorian. That seemed to suit him. She could feel his hatred of Jedi through the Force.
Finally the instruments cleared them with a high-pitched squeal. The bounty hunter slammed the hyperspeed accelerator and the stars streaked out beside them as their pursuers were left behind.
Cradossk swore in his harsh guttural tongue. A moment later the two remaining bounty hunters that he had brought with him appeared on his viewscreen.
The first was a Bothan whose name he had not bothered to learn, "What now, sir?" Both the Bothan and the droid were apprentices in the Guild he was forming. It was pleasant to be referred to as 'sir.'
Cradossk grinned, enjoying how the Bothan paled, "He's going to go to ground. He's injured pretty bad. We should be able to catch him."
"But how do you know, sir?" This time the tones were the mechanical precise ones belonging to the droid.
"His blood was everywhere! I could smell it!" He roared, watching them cower. "If I know him, he will head to the Rim. To the Hutt's moon." The other two nodded and the Bothan smiled evilly. Cradossk laughed and entered the coordinates into the nav-computer.
Fett finished his check of the systems. He could feel the blood running down his back where the heat from his armor absorbing the blaster bolt had burned him. He could also feel the Jedi girl behind him. If he had had time she would have been locked in one of the cages long since, but it hadn't been an option.
Fett got to his feet slowly. The nausea caught him, filling his mind. He needed to get a med kit. He had lost too much blood already. The room spun making him lurch forward. He caught himself on one side against the chair as the Jedi girl caught his other side.
Syntas gave him a small smile, "At least now you'll have to let me help you." He stared at her dumbly for a moment, in surprise.
They made their way back to his bunk. She dropped him onto it. He leaned carefully against the wall, reaching back stiffly to undo the armor on his back. She stopped him by pushing his hand aware.
"Wait. Let me get the med kit first. Where is it?" She touched his arm again to hold his attention. Fett pointed at the locker across from them. She pulled it out and sat down next to him before reaching up and undoing the clasps for the armor plate.
"Just don't get any ideas while I'm sitting here." She said with a grin. Fett only shook his head, willing her to get it over with quickly. He had considered doing it himself, but just keeping himself upright was difficult enough without the added burden of arguing with her.
She pulled off the armor and cut away what remained of the back of his shirt, "Narissa hired you to help me with my task as well?" She asked to distract him as she peeled away the rags. Fett nodded almost imperceptibly. She sprayed the burn with an antibiotic sealant.
"You're going to have to take the rest your shirt off so I can bandage this." She waited while he complied, admiring him as he did so. He was human and not more than twenty years old. He turned his head toward her, still encased in his helmet, but she could tell he was glaring at her. Syntas glared back at him.
"This isn't my choice of activity either. Trapped in a ship with a masked bounty hunter is not much of a place for a Jedi to be." She pulled the bandages tight, making him grunt. "You might as well remove your helmet too. Unless of course you can take care of the damage that breathing the gas did to you on your own."
Fett didn't move as she pulled back and stood waiting in front of him. Eventually either his silence or the difficulties of the day got to her. They glared at each other a moment more before she thrust the med kit at him and stormed out. Fett took it without comment and waited until he could hear her slamming things in the hold. He slipped his helmet off carefully, setting the Slave 1's internal systems to alert him should his current merchandise decide to reappear.
The pain in his throat and chest eased after he had administered to them using the supplies from the med kit. He was well aware a visit to a medical droid would probably be a good idea, but it was also far more dangerous than he wanted to risk. Cradossk would not take being outsmarted by Fett lightly, and even the bumbling government police could get lucky sometimes. He did not want to take that chance.
After he had finished he pulled his helmet back on. Few people remembered the face of the small boy on Geonosis, yet there was no need for any to realize just how much like his father that boy now looked.
Fett rolled onto his stomach, ignoring the sting of the burns on his back. He was forced to admit Syntas had bandaged them more effectively than he could have. He thought of her eyes blazing at him when he refused to comply. The idea of finding another sentient beautiful was strange. Even Zam, who he had thought of as a mother hadn't inspired this much emotion in him.
Fett shook off the strange thoughts that were invading his mind. She was a Jedi, something he could not forget. He had promised himself that he would avenge his father, yet he had accepted a job to help a Jedi. He hoped Jango would have understood that he had no choice.
He struggled to remain awake, but the same things that were healing his throat were also pulling him toward sleep. Fett fought it as hard as he could, but eventually the exhaustion of the past several days and the pain of his injuries pushed him into a deep sleep.
Syntas however had spent the last several months sleeping, most of them recovering from the explosion caused by the incompetent Rodian that had nearly taken her life. She crept quietly up from the hold. It hadn't taken long for her anger to cool. It seldom did. Narissa had always told her that her hair should have been a fiery red like her mother's as they shared the same temper.
She looked carefully over to where she had left the young bounty hunter. She felt a sense of righteous indignation at his bad manners. Of course she had to admit it was not his fault the gas had spread through the room, burning those who breathed it.
Syntas still did not remember much of the fight aside from the billowing clouds of blue glass highlighted by the flash of lasers in the standard reds and greens of most blasters. All she had known was that she had to get away from there. If one armored figure instead of another was willing to help her do that, who was she to complain?
What bothered her now as she made her way silently to the cockpit were the reasons why Narissa would have hired a bounty hunter rather than come herself. Bounty hunters were the scum of the galaxy with no more morals than a hungry Kryat dragon, she reminded herself, quoting Master Windu's description of them.
It didn't come as easily as it once had. The hard look Narissa had given Master Windu also came to mind. She glanced at the bounty hunter's sleeping form as she made her way past. Contrary to popular opinion he didn't look peaceful, even as he slept. He was of course, still wearing his helmet.
For one brief moment she was tempted to remove it, but a glance at the discarded weaponry that lay just within arms reach ended that idea almost as it formed. And his hand was curled tightly, whether against the pain of his injuries or some other fear that assaulted him in his dreams she did not know, but there was certainly nothing peaceful about him.
It didn't take her long to find the access to the ship's computer. As she touched it, a prompt appeared on the screen asking her for two separate passwords. Syntas examined the system carefully before proceeding, deciding as she did so that he was more paranoid than a Hutt. Syntas let her mind free into the Force, searching it for the correct numbers. Without thinking her fingers moved, entering the first code, and beginning on the second, but a sound in the ships engines distracted her and her hand slipped half way through.
An alarm went off immediately, beeping frantically and shutting down the screen. She slammed down the program she had been investigating the outer edges of the system with and cut the power to that section of the computer. The alarm cut off mid beep and a tense silence held her paralyzed at the controls.
The next moment a slight scrape of a boot on the floor broke the spell and she flew out of the pilot's seat trying hard not to look like a guilty child. The bounty hunter stood in the doorway. She searched his body, looking for signs of anger. It didn't help that the helmet hid his face. He was leaning against the wall, one arm cradled against his chest, which was covered only by bandages. Syntas forced her eyes up to look into the helmet's T-shaped visor.
"You were in the computer." His voice was hoarse and very quiet. If the ship hadn't been so quiet and there hadn't been so much adrenaline coursing through her system Syntas doubted she would have heard him.
"You can speak." She countered accusingly in an attempt to deflect him. "Maybe then you wouldn't mind explaining a few things."
"Barely." He corrected her, sitting in the pilot's seat, his movements betraying his exhaustion. "What were you doing in there?"
"Looking for answers. I don't even know your name. One minute I was unconscious, next I was in the middle of a light-fight with you. If you had cared to explain, I wouldn't have bothered messing with your computer. Also, you do realize it's a bit paranoid to have two passwords?" The words came out in a rush as she coaxed her anger into flame. It helped to hide her embarrassment and confusion.
"It worked." He pointed out watching her. "I will answer some of your questions, if you agree not to touch my ship or equipment." He had to breath carefully for a minute before continuing. Obviously his newly regained power of speech was fragile, "Otherwise I will put you in the cages."
"You're not going to kill me?" Her words were hesitant. She had been enormously relieved when he hadn't pulled out one of his fearsome looking weapons when the alarm had gone off.
"Not when I was hired to keep you alive." An edge of something that might have been impatience worked it's way into his voice. It reminded her that he wasn't much older than she was.
"That works for me. You have my word that I will not go near any of your implements of death or your ship." Her smile returned as she tested him to see if under his droid-like demeanor he had a sense of humor. Not surprisingly he ignored her joke. Syntas sighed and continued, "And if I don't I'll be in the cages, and that is a place I have no desire to be in. Is that good enough?" She looked to him, waiting for his nod.
"Then what's your name?" She leaned against the control board, settling in to get all the information she could from him, as long as he was going to be cooperative.
"Boba Fett." His sentences were short and clipped. She wasn't sure if this was from his injuries or just his personality.
"Who were you fighting at the medical facility?" She tried to keep the many questions pushing forward to just the important ones.
"Other bounty hunters and security."
Syntas hesitated a moment before asking the question she knew she did not want to hear the answer to. "And Narissa? Where is she? Why did she hire you to help me?"
"I captured her…" he paused for a breath. "And delivered her to Vader. She… knew my father, and… I was the only… one available." He answered both questions together. Fett's sentences were becoming broken, as his breathing grew harsh. Syntas guessed she had pushed his healing injuries too far.
He coughed, pushing his helmet up just above his mouth to wipe away the blood. Syntas did not even take advantage of her opportunity to see his face. All she saw was a strong chin line, with a thin coat of dark stubble and a few scars. She grabbed the med kit and gave him another dose to swallow.
Fett straightened quickly and he took a few breaths before pushing his helmet down again, concealing even that small part of his face from view. He turned as if to speak but Syntas shook her head.
"I don't think we need another medical emergency. We're already reaching the limits of my first aid skills." Syntas' smile was sad as she offered him her hand. "I'm going back down to the hold. Do you need any help?"
Fett hesitated before taking her hand and allowing her to pull him to his feet. He hadn't noticed how strong she was when they had been running through the medical facility's corridors. He shook his head at her offer and made his way back to his bunk himself. Much as he disliked it, he would need to spend some time waiting for the burns and the injuries the gas had given him to heal. He would have liked to ask just what he was supposed to help her do, but he hadn't had the chance. Later, he promised himself as he lay down again, watching the stars streak by in hyperspace.
Syntas slumped down in the seat in the hold. After a moment she laughed out loud, at the picture she and Fett must make, each returning to opposite ends of the cramped interior of the Slave 1 to sulk. The image broke the dark mood that had formed after she had learned of her mentor's death. She felt strangly numb to it. She suspected she should cry or feel grief at it, but it was almost as if she had already known it had occurred, and had accepted it.
Syntas got to her feet and opened one of the lockers. She had promised not to touch the controls, the computer, and the weaponry. Looking into the lockers on the other hand was definitely allowed. It didn't take long for her to collect enough parts to cobble together a means to access the Holonet.
She stuck her head up, glancing over to where Fett was sprawled on his stomach, to all appearances asleep again. Syntas slid back down, shoving her makeshift access into the ship's access port, concealing it from view, still feeling like a naughty child. A moment later the small screen above her hand lit up. After searching for a little while she caught up on the news; most of it propaganda by the fledgling Empire.
After the third story about government troops putting down traitorous protesters she deactivated it and withdrew her pirate access, the dark feeling she had felt earlier returned. Syntas curled up on the bench next to the lockers after hiding her new creation. She wasn't about to sleep in one of the coldly antiseptic cages.
Author's Note:
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Grand Admiral Gin: I'm glad you like it! I hope you liked this update!
Breann: Thank you! I'm really glad you liked my fics. I think "Everyone Dies" is my best as well.
Infamous One: Thanks for being patient. And yes, Crissic will be crushed by the mighty Boba Fett, it will just take a couple chapters to get there. But hey! Waiting makes it worth it.
Roseblade22: Wow! I was shocked! You reviewed one of my Star Wars fics. Not that I'm complaining of course… That is very cool! I would offer you cookies, but I don't think Boba Fett's much of a cook.