HUNTERS Part I
Boba Fett sat alone in the cockpit of his ship, staring into the cold emptiness of space.
He had just been the recipient of a very interesting message. Reaching out he replayed the message. A five-inch tall Twi'lek sprung out of thin air on the control board and started once again to replay the message, like some form of technological ghost reciting its unearthly mantra.
"Congratulations, hunter Fett. You have been chosen for the honor of participating in Master Orba's latest contest. The winner of this contest, which has been desinged to tax both the mind and the body, will receive the hansom bounty of 1 million credits. The contest will be held in stages. Complete each stage to move on to the next. This is stage 1. Let the contest begin!" The Twi'lek threw up his hands and was replaced by the image of a stylized 0 which started slowly rotating on its axis.
A stylized number that Fett recognized all to well. After his father had, while only doing his job, been slaughtered by that Jedi, Fett had decided to research the Order quite thoroughly should he ever run into one again. The symbol that he was looking at was definitely the Jedi's zero. Unknown to most of the galaxy was the fact that the Jedi had there own numbers and letters, as well as their own mythology.
Probably in order that they could communicate to each other in written form without others knowing what they were saying. Just another example of the treachery and underhanded dealings of the vaunted Jedi Knights.
Still, he could never be too careful, sloppiness was one of the stupidest mistakes a sentient being could make.
Fett was neither sloppy nor stupid. Keying up his ship's databank he ran the symbol through it, looking for other possible meanings that he was not aware of.
It soon became apparent that he needn't have worried. He actually had to key a specific search through the Jedi databanks before any match was found. Once the data appeared Fett studied it carefully, refreshing his memory of what he knew. There was really very little content of any importance, in fact, after looking over the entry he decided there was only one piece of information of any significance. Apparently, in the Jedi mythology, the number zero symbolized both the beginning and the end, constantly and eternally intertwined. Sitting back, Fett started to think about this clue and wondering what precisely he would do with one million Credits.
With the usual burst of light the tunnel of hyperspace formed into starlines, then with one final shudder formed back into the comforting visage of real space. Zuckuss once again promised himself to have the hyperdrive overhauled as soon as he got his hands on the Credits to do so.
Credits. They had been his main problem recently, or rather, a lack of them. However, this tournament of Orba's promised to change that for quite a while and, if their progress so far was anything to go by, wining it would be a cinch.
The first clue of this contest had been insultingly easy and, with his inherent intuition and 4-LOM's logic, they had arrived in the Geonosis system within the hour. Considering what Zuckuss thought a glaringly obvious clue he was somewhat surprised to find that the system wasn't crawling with hunters.
After all, the stylized zero, used by the Jedi order only, indicated specifically the beginning of the end and the history books all agreed that the Jedi purge began, as the Clone Wars began, on Geonosis.
Even before he completed that thought there was a flicker of pseudomotion and *Slave I* dropped into the system.
Reaching out, Zuckuss hurriedly engaged the *Mist Hunter*'s limited sensor-stealthing equipment. Although it would never stand up to a thorough scan, the *Mist Hunter* would remain effectively invisible to any passive scans of the area.
And passive scans, Zuckuss quickly saw, were all that Fett was going to have time for. With another flicker of light a second ship appeared, dropping right into *Slave I*'s drive trail with droid-like precision. Locking a tractor beam on to Fett's ship, *IG-2000* started to pour blaster fire into its shields. *Slave I* squirmed franticly under the tractor beam lock but was unable to gain even a few inches from the invisible grip.
Zuckuss was enthralled by the battle between titans; either Fett or IG-88 was almost irrefutably the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy, although Zuckuss felt that very soon there would be only one left to take that particular title.
The question was which one? Beside him, Zuckuss felt 4-LOM shift in his seat, attempting to "achieve a more effective position to optimize his visual sensor array input scanners."
Personally, Zuckuss felt that he was simply picking up on the more organic trait of "Shifting in his seat."
"Hunter Fett will attempt an unexpected maneuver in approximately 12.45 seconds." 4-LOM informed him.
"How will it be an unexpected maneuver if you've already predicted it?" Zuckuss was probing him more out of an attempt at humor that any genuine desire to know. Still, 4-LOM was punctual and efficient in delivering his reply.
"I mean, as I suspect that you already know, that while I expect the maneuver what precisely it shall entail is unknown."
Zuckuss felt that he couldn't simply stop now.
"When did you turn into a predictive model?"
"As Hunter Fett has managed to successfully outwit 99.999% of all the hunters he has faced in the duration of his career, I decided that it would be a wise precaution to study his use of tactics in case we should ever encounter him. He will attempt an unorthodox maneuver in 2.5-"
4-LOM was cut off as three proton torpedoes from *IG-2000*'s launch tubes penetrated *Slave I*'s shields and burrowed into its main drive engine, detonating on impact.
*Slave I* exploded into a massive fireball that engulfed *IG-2000* and sprayed debris out in all directions before vanishing into thin vacuum, leaving behind only the heat-warped pieces of durasteel that once formed the hulls of *Slave I* and *IG-2000*.
Perhaps, thought Zuckuss, there might still be a chance to claim that title for himself after all.
Gunning the engines he started to close the distance between him and the planet, dreaming about all the possible ways of spending one million Credits.
Boba Fett sat alone in the cockpit of his ship, staring into the cold emptiness of space.
He had just been the recipient of a very interesting message. Reaching out he replayed the message. A five-inch tall Twi'lek sprung out of thin air on the control board and started once again to replay the message, like some form of technological ghost reciting its unearthly mantra.
"Congratulations, hunter Fett. You have been chosen for the honor of participating in Master Orba's latest contest. The winner of this contest, which has been desinged to tax both the mind and the body, will receive the hansom bounty of 1 million credits. The contest will be held in stages. Complete each stage to move on to the next. This is stage 1. Let the contest begin!" The Twi'lek threw up his hands and was replaced by the image of a stylized 0 which started slowly rotating on its axis.
A stylized number that Fett recognized all to well. After his father had, while only doing his job, been slaughtered by that Jedi, Fett had decided to research the Order quite thoroughly should he ever run into one again. The symbol that he was looking at was definitely the Jedi's zero. Unknown to most of the galaxy was the fact that the Jedi had there own numbers and letters, as well as their own mythology.
Probably in order that they could communicate to each other in written form without others knowing what they were saying. Just another example of the treachery and underhanded dealings of the vaunted Jedi Knights.
Still, he could never be too careful, sloppiness was one of the stupidest mistakes a sentient being could make.
Fett was neither sloppy nor stupid. Keying up his ship's databank he ran the symbol through it, looking for other possible meanings that he was not aware of.
It soon became apparent that he needn't have worried. He actually had to key a specific search through the Jedi databanks before any match was found. Once the data appeared Fett studied it carefully, refreshing his memory of what he knew. There was really very little content of any importance, in fact, after looking over the entry he decided there was only one piece of information of any significance. Apparently, in the Jedi mythology, the number zero symbolized both the beginning and the end, constantly and eternally intertwined. Sitting back, Fett started to think about this clue and wondering what precisely he would do with one million Credits.
With the usual burst of light the tunnel of hyperspace formed into starlines, then with one final shudder formed back into the comforting visage of real space. Zuckuss once again promised himself to have the hyperdrive overhauled as soon as he got his hands on the Credits to do so.
Credits. They had been his main problem recently, or rather, a lack of them. However, this tournament of Orba's promised to change that for quite a while and, if their progress so far was anything to go by, wining it would be a cinch.
The first clue of this contest had been insultingly easy and, with his inherent intuition and 4-LOM's logic, they had arrived in the Geonosis system within the hour. Considering what Zuckuss thought a glaringly obvious clue he was somewhat surprised to find that the system wasn't crawling with hunters.
After all, the stylized zero, used by the Jedi order only, indicated specifically the beginning of the end and the history books all agreed that the Jedi purge began, as the Clone Wars began, on Geonosis.
Even before he completed that thought there was a flicker of pseudomotion and *Slave I* dropped into the system.
Reaching out, Zuckuss hurriedly engaged the *Mist Hunter*'s limited sensor-stealthing equipment. Although it would never stand up to a thorough scan, the *Mist Hunter* would remain effectively invisible to any passive scans of the area.
And passive scans, Zuckuss quickly saw, were all that Fett was going to have time for. With another flicker of light a second ship appeared, dropping right into *Slave I*'s drive trail with droid-like precision. Locking a tractor beam on to Fett's ship, *IG-2000* started to pour blaster fire into its shields. *Slave I* squirmed franticly under the tractor beam lock but was unable to gain even a few inches from the invisible grip.
Zuckuss was enthralled by the battle between titans; either Fett or IG-88 was almost irrefutably the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy, although Zuckuss felt that very soon there would be only one left to take that particular title.
The question was which one? Beside him, Zuckuss felt 4-LOM shift in his seat, attempting to "achieve a more effective position to optimize his visual sensor array input scanners."
Personally, Zuckuss felt that he was simply picking up on the more organic trait of "Shifting in his seat."
"Hunter Fett will attempt an unexpected maneuver in approximately 12.45 seconds." 4-LOM informed him.
"How will it be an unexpected maneuver if you've already predicted it?" Zuckuss was probing him more out of an attempt at humor that any genuine desire to know. Still, 4-LOM was punctual and efficient in delivering his reply.
"I mean, as I suspect that you already know, that while I expect the maneuver what precisely it shall entail is unknown."
Zuckuss felt that he couldn't simply stop now.
"When did you turn into a predictive model?"
"As Hunter Fett has managed to successfully outwit 99.999% of all the hunters he has faced in the duration of his career, I decided that it would be a wise precaution to study his use of tactics in case we should ever encounter him. He will attempt an unorthodox maneuver in 2.5-"
4-LOM was cut off as three proton torpedoes from *IG-2000*'s launch tubes penetrated *Slave I*'s shields and burrowed into its main drive engine, detonating on impact.
*Slave I* exploded into a massive fireball that engulfed *IG-2000* and sprayed debris out in all directions before vanishing into thin vacuum, leaving behind only the heat-warped pieces of durasteel that once formed the hulls of *Slave I* and *IG-2000*.
Perhaps, thought Zuckuss, there might still be a chance to claim that title for himself after all.
Gunning the engines he started to close the distance between him and the planet, dreaming about all the possible ways of spending one million Credits.
