Disclaimer: Well, I'm back, and look not much has changed… I still don't own Star Wars, but hey, I'm working on it.
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Fett's grip tightened on the blaster, finger tensed on the trigger. It would be easy, so easy just to pull it and damn the consequences. He shook his head, pulling back, that was the precise reason why he stopped himself. He spun on his heal; leaving the sneak thief sprawled on the ground behind him.
The few people who had been unable to hide cowered away from him, peeking from behind fruit stands or decaying machines whose purpose was so far gone in the past it could no longer be identified. Fett simply ignored them, walking slowly, silently back towards the Slave 1.
What those watching eyes could not see was the inner turmoil within Fett. He took a breath, trying to shake the feeling that rose up within him, threatening to choke him. The rage that was so often just below the surface, carefully concealed had poured over the edges.
His mind flashed back, he had felt that slight touch, spinning around, his armored wrists coming up, smashing away the hands. He had spun, following with a kick, knocking his attacker away, leaving him facing the sprawled form with blaster in hand. He had come up, aiming the blaster slowly, things seemed almost to be floating through the air, they moved so slowly.
The child's terrified eyes burned into his own, reminding himself of another child desperately fighting off all comers. He pulled himself back from the brink. That cliff was always there, and it wouldn't take much to send himself over the edge, he had seen other hunters go that path, it wouldn't be hard.
But then that was the key, the easy course, just to let himself slip… Again he caught himself, giving an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and that was a thought which belonged to a Jedi, not to Boba Fett. That was too close to the edge. He was so tired, but then there was not rest in this galaxy. Problems of the past and present weighed him down, but Fett just squared his shoulders and kept walking.
The few who had dared to watch his exit saw him pause and saw the slight movement of the helmeted head. Many questions rose in their minds, questions which would have signed their death warrants had Fett known of them. They waited until Fett disappeared in the swirling sand that choked the air before moving.
Slowly the spaceport market place began moving again. People stepped out from behind whatever they had used as cover and went about their business. This was Tatooine after all; such things were to be expected. If it was weather or a fight between their planets more volatile patrons, business had to go on.
Even the would be pickpocket pulled himself to his feet, warily looking around before fading into the shadows. Next time he would be a little more careful about choosing his targets, much more careful actually, but what a story it would make! Attempting to rob the galaxy's most feared bounty hunter!
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Syntas glanced up, peering through shifting curtains of sand outside the door of the shop; pausing in her haggling with the shop owner. She put down some credits, and grabbed the power cell, slipping outside.
There was something out there. She wasn't sure where, but she knew it was there. Of course this wasn't her Jedi senses, but rather the instincts she had been slowly gathering over the time she had spent with Fett. Something wasn't right with the marketplace.
But nothing presented itself as she made her way back to the docking bay and the waiting Slave 1. Syntas dreaded what Fett would return with. Jobs were easy to come by in the chaotic Empire, yet the best jobs were hunting down the Jedi, and she did not know what she would do if she came up against one of her former comrades.
Once they had been everything to her, family, friends, and life, but now with her connection to the Force all but severed how could she ever return to her previous existence?
But what held more of her thoughts was the image of a young man, his face twisted with hate as he spat out the name of the order which he had taken it upon himself to bring to its knees. That more than any of the other injustices she had seen in the universe made her doubt and question her conviction to Jedi principles.
She remembered the stories of the Sith, fallen Jedi, but this was not the dark side that she found herself turning to. She still fought for some semblance of order in the galaxy but the line between dark and light had grown vague and shadowed, nothing remained certain now.
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Theron slouched in the chair, waiting for his highness, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith. There were times when he regretted his alliance with the Sith Lord, but then did he really have a choice? Perhaps alliance wasn't the right word. Vader was more his master than his ally. And it was not often the master asked the slave's opinion.
He had talents though that Vader needed. In the forming empire it was very easy for even those at the top to fall. Theron laughed quietly, it would take much though to get that one to admit that he needed anyone, much less someone who was a virtual slave.
At this point the doors slid open. He could hear Lord Vader's harsh breathing as the armored figure stepped into the room. Despite his confidence Theron could not help but cower in his chair.
"I have a job for you Theron," Vader took his seat across the wide desk, leaning back in the chair, his hands folded before him.
"Some how I guessed Lord Vader," Theron could not help but test the limits of the Sith Lord. After all it was unlikely Vader would kill such a valuable servant, at least for now.
Vader's head turned in his direction, "I want you to bring me a certain bounty hunter."
The thin man sat up at this, "A bounty hunter, sir? What do you want with one of them?"
Vader's hands clenched into fists, "It is not just a bounty hunter, and why is my business. Bring him to me."
"Should be easy, I thought you had a challenge, sir." Theron got to his feet, turning towards the door.
"I do. This bounty hunter will not come easily. Boba Fett will provide you all the challenge you desire."
Theron simply shrugged, picking up his jacket and swaggering out the door.
Vader leaned back again in his chair. Fett had accepted the assignment; the Jedi would provide an excellent distraction as Theron did his work. Soon he would have the hunter in his grasp, and then Fett would learn to respect the Dark side.
Vader's burned face twisted into what may have once been a smile as he thought of what an excellent servant Fett would make for him.
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Syntas stepped onto the Slave 1 uneasily. The ship's silence worried her. Fett should have been back by now. The calm blinking of the ship's lights did nothing to reassure her.
Of course there was little she could do. Fett often kept his business to himself. He was still unsure of her allegiance, something she could not hold against him. She was not sure herself. All she could do was hope what they had come to share would win out over it all.
Syntas set down her holster and her purchases, sitting in the pilot's seat of the Slave 1, watching the sand wash over the view port. She wrapped her arms around her knees, there was nothing she could do but wait.
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Not too far away, Fett sat hunched over the bar of a cantina, one of the many which lined the streets of the city. A part of his mind remained conscious of the activity of the other patrons around him, but his mind was filled with memories and feelings he was not sure how to interpret or even how to deal with.
Author's Note:
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See! I'm back after a rather long hiatus, but I am back. Finishing high school in 3 years instead of 4 isn't easy, and it's been taking up more time than I'd like. Thanks for being patient; I'm going to get going on this again!