The next morning Fett's breathing was slightly easier when he woke. He hadn't slept much, not trusting Syntas, but he couldn't avoid sleep entirely. He pulled the few pieces of armor he had removed last night back on. He would need to see if there were any rumors floating around about the Jedi Record, or any about himself.
The streets were as crowded now as they had been last night. The thick cloud of smog and pollution cast the world in a sort of twilight. The crush of people would thin around noon as the moon's surface lightened, but it would be as thick as ever when darkness fell.
Fett approached the tiny weapon repair shop owned by a Quarren by the name of Quatar. Quatar had been exiled from Mon Calamari long before Fett had even been born. Now he made most of his living trading information, weapons repair was only a hobby.
The lights in his shop blazed brightly, almost imitating the sunny world he had come from. Fett's visor darkened so he could see despite the change in light. Blinding his visitors was one of Quatar's more irritating security measures.
"Fett! Need a blaster repaired?" The Quarren's voice had a strange almost liquid sound to it. With his heavy accent Basic was almost unrecognizable when he spoke it.
Fett dropped some credits on the table, "I need to know about Cradossk."
Quatar swept up the credits, slightly affronted that Fett would not play his game, "He's busy looking for someone who stole his merchandise." His eyes sharpened as he watched Fett intently, "You wouldn't happen to know who that might be would you?"
Fett ignored the question, to ask another of his own, "Has he been after Jedi artifacts?"
"Jedi artifacts? New hobby of yours, Fett? I haven't heard anything about them in weeks, except a few of the top hunters all seem to be going for the same merchandise. They're combing the Rim for something." Quatar waited expectantly after providing his answer. Fett dropped a few more credits on the counter to pay for his silence about Fett's whereabouts before leaving the shop. Though he was only too aware that Quatar would sell the information to anyone who paid him more than Fett had, but it was an acceptable risk. There wasn't much the Quarren could tell anyone.
He stepped out of the shop into the thick air of the Hutt's moon. For a moment the world spun and Fett clutched the dirt-coated wall to keep from falling. Two aliens on the far side of the street straightened as they noticed his stumble, making their way toward him like sharks sensing blood in the water.
Fett coughed, the metallic taste of blood filling his mouth as he straightened painfully. He reached down, taking the blaster from its holster. These two may think they had found an easy target, but Fett was well prepared to show them the error in their ways. The first one came up behind him in what it probably thought was a stealthy manner.
I could hear you three kilometers off. He thought to himself. One thing Fett hated was over confidence. It did nothing but get you killed.
"Do you need some help, mister?" It leaned close, grinning as its companion circled Fett.
Fett paused a moment, as if catching his breath then spoke, his voice gravelly and harsh, "No."
He jammed his elbow back into the alien leaning over him who doubled over, it's breath knocked out. He whipped his blaster away from his side where he had kept it from view, shots streaking towards the would-be thief's partner.
The smaller alien ducked down behind some abandoned speeders yelling to his partner in a dialect Fett was not familiar with. The other alien straightened painfully, reaching for Fett. By this time he had pulled back out of range, a shot from the blaster, taking his attacker in the leg. The claws stretched farther than Fett had thought possible, knocking him back and off balance.
The other used this distraction to leap onto Fett, knocking him to the ground. Fett grunted as his back slammed into the filthy pavement and the alien's eyes lit up with a victorious light as he reached behind him for a knife.
Fett struggled to free himself from the alien's heavy weight, managing to bring up the blaster. It's barrel now pointing directly into the sentient's midsection. The smaller alien was distracted from it's gloating by the blaster's whine. Its eyes widened in fear for the second it had before the explosion threw it off Fett, now almost broken into two pieces.
The larger thief stepped toward its friend, but one look at Fett and it retreated into the darkened shadows, cradling its injured arm. Its eyes glowed in the dark as it watched Fett until it was sure the bounty hunter was not going to peruse it. Normally, Fett would have ensured revenge, but his back burned from slamming into the pavement and if things were unsettled enough here in Nar Shaddaa's port that two thieves were desperate enough to attack someone as well armed as Fett, he had no desire to leave Syntas on her own for any longer than necessary. The Jedi girl had a talent for getting into unpleasant situations.
Fett didn't see the second set of eyes watching as he rose stiffly and continued slowly down the street. Quatar knew what others wished to have in the way of information and he knew Boba Fett. He smiled; Cradossk would be interested to know of the younger hunter's inquiries and of his apparent injuries. It would be worth far more credits than Fett had paid him. The Quarren laughed, a low, liquid sound before stepping back into his shop.
Syntas raised her eyebrows at him as he unlocked the door and entered. Fett winced as he realized how he must look. The fight had knocked over a container of refuse and a good part of it now coated his armor, not to mention the filth already on the streets and that on the two thieves. He glanced down at his formerly green and red armor that was now a wonderful sludge color, highlighted with bits of refuse he had no desire to identify.
"Did you enjoy your cantina brawl or maybe it was playtime in the garbage?" Her voice was deceptively light. Fett watched her out of the corner of his eyes as he began stripping off his weapons to be cleaned, careful not reveal anything that would make part of him that could be identified visible.
"Because if you didn't, I would hope that you aren't going to do it again. We have more important things to do!" She reminded him, her voice as hard as transparisteel. Now that they were off the ship, it appeared she had decided that she was in charge.
Fett rounded on her angrily; about to reply that it hadn't been fun for him either when he caught the surprised look on her face. He glanced around, searching for some sort of threat, jetpack hanging in his hands. Then he noticed that she was staring at him. A quick glance down showed the blood that had soaked through the bandages, which were now as dirty and ragged as the rest of him, from being scraped against his armor in the fight, resulting in a sight that was probably one of the most disturbing things Syntas had seen in her somewhat sheltered life.
The fiery anger drained from him as it visibly did the same from Syntas' face. Fett reflected tiredly for a moment that he would have preferred to find a better way to end arguments with her than him developing some sort of hideous injury to stun her into silence.
"What happened?" Her voice was quiet now as she took the remaining weapons from him, setting them on the ragged brown carpet.
"Thieves. " He considered for a moment, and then explained, "Nar Shaddaa is hot right now. The new Empire is making places like these strongholds for those outside the law." He winced as she unwound the ruined bandage.
"They're cracking down and need extra money to stabilize the new government. It always hits the lowest the hardest. Thieves get desperate." Usually they would have been subtler, even on Nar Shaddaa. This worried him slightly, but he pushed it away. The greater concern would have been if there were witnesses to the fight. The surviving thief wouldn't know any better but if an information dealer had seen it, news of Fett being injured would be spread to any who were interested and thieves weren't the only ones who would go for anyone showing signs of weakness.
Quatar. Fett closed his eyes for a moment, he knew exactly who would hear of it. Cradossk would be here as soon as Quatar contacted him with the information on Fett's whereabouts.
"What's wrong?" Syntas could sense Fett was, well, not worried, Boba Fett didn't worry as far as she could tell, but certainly concerned.
"We're leaving tonight. Cradossk's coming." He moved to get up, but she gripped his shoulder, forcing him to sit back down.
"The Trandoshan?" Syntas couldn't keep the note of fear from her voice, but she pretended it didn't exist. Fett was an excellent teacher at hiding emotion.
He nodded, "That's why we have to go now." He pulled away, to stand stiffly, the pain of the movement caused obvious.
"Not until I fix your back. It's bleeding too heavily to leave now." Syntas' voice was firm as she added a bit of the Force to it, to convince him.
"We don't have time!" Fett's voice was louder than he had intended, Syntas took an involuntary step back, but held her ground.
"We have to. If you collapse, then we will get nowhere. Me dragging you through the streets will attract the attention you're so worried about!" Syntas yelled back.
"Then finish quickly." Fett relaxed slightly under her grip, sitting, but obviously disliking it, "Cradossk doesn't take pity on those who have caused him this much trouble and he punishes in the Trandoshan fashion." He gritted his teeth as Syntas applied fresh bandages.
"I don't care if he hangs them by their toenails and forces them to watch Imperial holo commercials until they go insane!" She shot back. Fett didn't respond, sensing that if he did the argument would become a childish trading of insults. That and with Syntas' help the pain from his back was fading, making movement easier. He had no desire to make her vengeful again.
"I'll need the coordinates." He could at least try and get them from her.
Syntas shook her head, "Not with what's-his-name the lizard after us. If we fail he would find them. That's a risk I'm not willing to take."
She finished with the bandages and stepped back, her eyes held Fett's. They were steady. He found himself looking deeper into her eyes, not to intimidate, but in an attempt to understand this strange Jedi girl who was making his life unbelievably difficult.
It felt almost as if they had reached an agreement. Syntas reached out a hand unconsciously reaching up toward him. As her hand met the edge of his helmet she pulled back, startled, surprised at what she had done. Fett stepped back as well, though the corners of his mouth were tugged up in something that could have been a smile at the blush spreading across Syntas' fierce face. She wasn't a mere Jedi girl, he realized now, far from it.
Author's Note:
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People, I'm up to 2 readers now, which is good, but if you read please, please, please review, it's what makes me want to write, and I really appreciate it.
Imp: Sorry you don't like the romance, but hey, everyone with a Fettish has to write one at least once… Also, I know he's not the normal 'Fett' we all know and love, but he's young yet, and I'm glad you like it anyway.
Sarch: Thanks for letting me know you're out there! Greatly Appreciated! I'm glad you like my ideas, I was a bit nervous, so thanks!