Disclaimer: Go back to the first chapter. :)
Chapter something or other
Boba's helmet immediately compensated for the sudden bright light that assaulted it. It blacked out for a few moments before providing Boba with the best picture it could conjure up. Boba saw the dragon-looking creature stagger back a few steps, its chest blackened. Pain blossomed in his stomach with each breath he took. Typical. I probably just re-cracked my ribs… Struggling to regain his breath, Boba was vaguely aware of someone (Masdon, Boba thought with an amused grin) shrieking wildly. Boba slowly began to sit up, knowing that Masdon would take any chance he could to escape from him. Grasping his blaster, Boba slowly came to his feet and glanced around warily. The dragon-thing was nowhere to be seen. It had most likely crawled into the jungle to die. An involuntary shudder ran up his spine. He never wanted to do that again.
Fidel felt like someone was squeezing his chest. He had never known fear like this before. It clouded his thoughts, restricted his breathing, and made him just plain uncomfortable. The tension had been relieved somewhat when he saw that Fett was more or less in one piece. But knowing that a mere creature could take Boba Fett by surprise made Fidel feel just a little distressed.
Sighing, he put his hands on his head, since that was probably what Fett would tell him to do when he came over.
"I see that you are getting smarter, Masdon. Get up. We're getting out of here."
"How?"
Fett turned slowly around to face him.
"We walk. Unless you have a swoop hidden in that vest of yours, which is… Highly unlikely."
Fidel looked at Fett in annoyance.
"You know, Fett, walking in the jungle at night is really over-rated. I mean, you see all these advertisements saying 'go on a night safari with us' and that sort of stuff, but now that I'm actually in the jungle at night, I don't think…" Boba ground his teeth in annoyance. Masdon had been going on like this for the past forty-five minutes. And it was starting to grate on his already-grated nerves. Boba glanced at his chrono and sighed. The night wasn't even half-way over yet. It's going to be a long one too… Boba suddenly stopped and put his hands to his head, which had unexpectedly started to, er, fuzz. It was the oddest sensation he had ever experienced. It was as if someone was, for lack of a better term, messing with his head. He felt foggy, like he wanted to do this, but someone else wanted him to do that, and they were forcing their will upon him. He had felt this same sensation right before the dra—
The dragon slunk quietly around the outskirts of the clearing, its tongue flicking in and out as it tested the air, even more perplexed than before. When it had tried to eat one of the creatures, it had been protected by something. The dragon snorted silently in frustration. The creatures had meat on them. It could smell it. The dragon stopped suddenly as it remembered something. There were two creatures. Maybe the other creature didn't have scales on it. Where was it… There. The dragon crouched, its blackened chest-scales brushing the ground. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance. Smoke exited the dragon's nostrils as it waited patiently for the right moment…
Fidel felt the air go out of him in a loud whoosh when something big and heavy crashed into him. Paralyzed with surprise (you gotta give him a break. After all, his face was shoved into the jungle floor, which is filled with… Er, dirt among other things.), Fidel just laid there for a second before his survival instincts kicked in. Rolling over, Fidel got an up-close-and-personal look at the creature, which was leaning over him, teeth bared. Bringing his feet up to his chest, Fidel kicked out, trying to dislodge himself from under the dragon. But the dragon seemed to anticipate his movements. With eye-blurring speed, it wrapped its tail around him and began to move in for the kill. At this moment, Fidel knew that it was a hopeless fight—he knew that he couldn't beat the monster. "FETT! GET OVER HERE!"
Boba lay on the ground, stunned: it felt like his brain had been turned to jelly, he hit the ground so hard. But, knowing that the creature now had his merchandise, he jumped to his feet, trying to get a visual on it. I thought I killed the stang thing… Ah, there they were. Masdon flailing uselessly under the dragon's immense weight, and the dragon about to take a chunk out of Masdon. I've got to get its attention. Suddenly, an idea popped into his head, and not giving it a moment's thought Boba leaped into action. Igniting his jet-pack while simultaneously getting out his vibro-knife, he slammed into the dragon's head making a long, jagged cut along the creature's face. That got its attention. Screaming in pain, the dragon turned around to face him, its cruel yellow eyes meeting Boba's. Boba swallowed hard. Those eyes weren't the eyes of a mere creature: they were the eyes of a semi-intelligent creature, which was now bent on revenge. Boba felt his eyes starting to cloud over, and it was only through sheer will that he was able to keep conscious. Evidently sensing (or knowing) that its tactic didn't work, the dragon then drew in a deep breath.
"Oh, shizzle," Boba spat out, right before he dove to the ground.
Fidel's mouth fell open in shock as fire spewed from the dragon's mouth, saturating the area where Fett had been standing. Oh, not-good-not-good-not-good-not-good. There went his last hope of survival. And his father always said that he'd turn in to rancor meat. Hah! At least he'd die proving him wrong… Easing up on his side, Fidel slowly stood up. However, he wasn't not going to at least try to escape this doom-machine. On one. Three, two, o... Fidel's mental count-down was interrupted by another spurt of flame—but this one came from the ground, opposite of the dragon. Fidel's mouth dropped down in shock for the second time that night. How in the stang…? No one could have survived that… His thoughts were interrupted when the dragon started howling, a high-pitched ululating keen that went up into the highest octaves imaginable and then went down into lowest. Fett, taking advantage of the dragon's inattentiveness, threw a small thermal detonator at it. This tiny little detail finally registered in Fidel's head as Fett got up and started charging over to him: Thermal. Detonator. Oooohh. Turning tail, Fidel sprinted towards the edge of the clearing for shelter. With a loud BOOM the detonator exploded, the shock-wave knocking him to the ground. Gasping for breath, Fidel shakily put his hands to his ringing ears, his whole head pounding as if it were a drum being played by an angry Weequay. Gradually he became aware of something grabbing him by the arms and dragging him. I hope it's not the stang dragon….
Boba dragged Masdon through the thick jungle underbrush, trying to do it quickly as well as quietly. Breathing was an agony now, each breath accentuated by a sharp stab of pain. He knew that he couldn't go on much farther, his taxed body was now traveling well over the limits of any ordinary man. What he really needed to find was shelter, a cave of some sort, or maybe a burrow. Dark clouds covered the night sky, throwing forth an occasional flash of lightning, or rumble of thunder. In the condition that he and Masdon were in now, he couldn't afford for either of them to get caught out in a downpour, and risk getting chilled.
In the shock-wave that had followed the explosion, Boba had been thrown forward, but his helmet had muted any damaging effect it might have had on his ears. Masdon on the other hand… Boba winced, not wanting to think about someone else's pain at the moment—he had enough of his own to deal with. Overhead, thunder crashed again, this time letting loose sprinkle of rain with it. Lightning began flickering every few seconds as the rain came down harder. Just… Great… Boba groaned as water started running down his back. Setting Masdon on the ground, Boba turned around and tried to see through the deluge. Lightning flashed again, outlining a dark, yawning hole. Gripping Masdon again, Boba started dragging him towards the cave, hoping that it was unoccupied. Glancing inside he saw nothing that seemed out of the ordinary—such as discarded bones or such. Sighing in relief, he drug Masdon into the cave and sank down to the floor, briefly closing his eyes. Come on Fett, pull yourself together, your better than this. He knew that he needed to keep watch.But he really didn't want to. Boba reached into one of his pouches and removed his med pac, and a thermal blanket. Tossing the blanket over Masdon, he then opened the med pac and got out some stims—he couldn't take any chances of falling asleep.
"Masdon, sit down."
Boba bit back an annoyed snarl. He was certainly not in the mood for this kind of behavior.
"Masdon, sit DOWN. Or, so help me, I'll stun you."
Masdon didn't listen. Instead he slowly looked around as if trying to find something. Growling dangerously, Boba stood up and grabbed Masdon by the back of the shirt and yanked him down. Masdon, obviously surprised, made an inarticulate sound of surprise. It was almost as if he hadn't heard him… Fett, you di'kut of course he can't hear you. Of all the fraggin' idiots… Grabbing Masdon roughly by the shoulders, Boba looked at him.
"Can you hear me."
Masdon stared at him blankly. Boba pointed to his ear and shook his head. Masdon, looking slightly confused, nodded, then shook, then nodded his head again. The detonator had obviously addled his head, besides damaging his hearing. Getting out his med pac again, Boba injected bacta into Masdon's ears, and tried to ignore the profuse swearing.
A storm raged outside, flashes of lightning briefly illuminating the inside of the cave. Sitting near the cave's mouth, Boba stood guard, trying to stay awake. Even though he'd taken a stim, his body was still feeling the after-effects of being shot, and was loudly telling him of that fact. Being cold didn't help matters either—he was officially soaked to the bone. When I get out of this mess I'm putting a temperature regulator in my armor, he thought humorlessly. Rain pattered loudly outside, making a soothing, hypnotic sound. Boba felt his eyes grow heavy, but tried to fight it. He needed to stay awake. Masdon might try to escape (he highly doubted that—he had effectively hog-tied Fidel with some spare rope.), or some of Randia's other nightlife might come and inspect them. Boba tightened his grip on his blaster. If they did, he would be ready.
The storm howled on, as did the night. Boba glanced at his chrono sleepily. He'd almost dozed off twice now. Stifling a yawn, he tried to see past the torrential rain that seemed to curtain the cave's entrance, to no avail. The stim had long since worn off, leaving Boba even more drained than before. In an effort to stay awake, Boba got painfully to his feet and peered out of the cave. Rain splattered on his helmet, sounding like miniature blaster bolts. Boba was about to pull his head back in, when a flash of lightning lit up the area outside of the cave. Boba jerked back, a cold sweat starting to form on his forehead. I didn't just see that, he thought frantically. Getting his blaster clear of its holster, he brought it around and pointed the muzzle towards the cave mouth. Cautiously moving forward, he eased out into the deluge of rain, keeping his blaster in front of him. The rain came down harder, limiting visibility to only a few yards. Boba stood tensely, eyes searching vainly for the shape he'd thought he'd seen. It was just a trick of the eyes, Boba finally concluded, albeit uneasily. Just as he was about to turn around, a fork of lightning split the sky again, seeming to make night into day. And standing no more than ten feet away was the dragon.
Boba couldn't control the shaking in his limbs. He wasn't sure if it was from the after-effects of the stim, from the cold, or both. Or from fear. Boba began to walk backwards, his eyes never leaving the place where the dragon was. He couldn't believe this was happening. It was dead, I killed it. No one could have survived such a blast. Reaching the relative safety of the cave, Boba stumbled over to Masdon. "What's up?"
"Shut up and listen. The dragon's outside, and I—" Boba severed the ropes quickly with his vibroblade, "am going to let you loose." Masdon looked up at Boba while rubbing his wrists. "And why would you do a stang thing like that?" He asked in a whisper. Boba met his gaze and rasped, "Because you are no good to me dead."
Boba hauled Masdon up roughly by the arm, and dragged him deeper into the cave. There's got to be another way out of here. Adrenaline surged through his system, giving him strength equal to that of any stim. Behind him he heard the labored panting of Masdon. Thank the stars, Boba thought as he came to a fork in the cave. "Which one do we take?" It was a good question. Both of the tunnels looked the same, neither of them having any distinguishing features that could help them in deciding. Masdon's panting was joined by something else—a crunching sound, like feet walking on gravel. Like clawed feet. Picking randomly, Boba shot up the left tunnel, Masdon right on his heels. There was a sudden roar behind them, followed by a sound resembling that of a galloping rancor. Oh SSith… Calling on a reserve that even he didn't know was there, Boba began sprinting faster, hoping that the tunnel didn't lead them to a dead end. It didn't. Boba was several feet in front of Fidel when it happened: rounding a sharp corner, a yawning chasm seemed to appear in front of him. Boba felt dread build up in him even before he started to slide to a stop. There's no way out—Boba staggered forward a step as Fidel rounded the corner and slammed into him, screaming, "Sons of the Sith!" in surprise. "What the… Oh." Masdon left the last part of his sentence unsaid when he saw the chasm.
The walls of the cave glowed an eerie green, courtesy of Randian cave moss. There was another bone-chilling roar behind them, much closer this time. Determined to at least die fighting, Boba turned around and faced the dark tunnel, back to the chasm. He hadn't the slightest idea on how to kill it—although his vibro-blade did cut through the scales, Boba was sure that he'd never get close enough to deal a killing blow. "Hey Fett, what should I do?" Boba turned his head slightly and looked at him. "Find somewhere to hide and shut up." A sudden idea sprang into Boba's head. Grabbing Masdon roughly, he ran to the other side of the cave wall. Now, they were on the outside of the cave's turn instead of the inside. "Masdon, here's what you're going to do: when the dragon comes around the corner, I want you to run over there and shove it with all your might, got that?" Masdon stared at him as if he were crazy. "So you want me to push it into the pit, me following after it I might add, while you escape, huh?" Up the tunnel, Boba could hear the sound of claws against stone. "I never leave a bounty behind," he hissed before turning his attention to the tunnel.
The dragon galloped up the tunnel, its elongated body fluctuating with every stride. Its yellow eyes glowed demonically, as if it were possesed. They were here. And not only that—they had come into its home. The dragon bared its teeth in anger before it let loose a resounding roar. This time, they would not escape. This time, they would deal with the full wrath of the dragon's Hylemas.
Boba stood still, adrenaline pumping. He could hear the dragon coming. In a few seconds it would be on them… Now. Boba tensed as the dragon sped up the tunnel, its breath coming in short bursts. But there was also another sound. Boba felt as if a knife had been shoved in his gut. There are more of them. Sure enough, Boba could hear the distinct click-click of multiple dragon claws. At that moment the lead dragon sped around the corner. "Go," Boba hissed to Masdon, before readying his jet-pack for another burn.
Fidel leaped forward, running as hard as he could toward the dangerous predator. Then he heard it—the sound of claws grating against stone. The sound of the dragon trying to slide to a stop. Letting out an animal-like snarl, Fidel slammed into the dragon's flank, feeling it give ever so slightly. This isn't going to work, he thought desperatelyl—right as Fett cannoned into the dragon's abdomen, jet-pack ignited. The next few moments passed in a blur. First there was the feeling of being dragged (he hadn't released his hold on the dragon), then the sensation of falling… and falling… and falling…
The first thing he became aware of was a terrible, burning ache in his chest. Then the coughs. Harsh spasms wracked his lungs as he choked up mouthful after mouthful of foul-tasting water. Wheezing uncontrollably, Boba was suddenly very aware of every rib in abdomen. His vision began to swim from the lack of oxygen. Just relax… Relax your body and you will be able to breathe easier. Gradually, Boba's breathing began to even out, and his vision cleared. Opening his eyes he took notice of his surroundings: He was in a large cavern, apparently lit by natural, unseen skylights high above his head. Grimacing slightly Boba started to sit up, but was immediately stopped by a hot throb in his abdomen. Do not attempt to move around, Young One, for you are not fully healed to be up and about. Fighting back the nausea in his stomach, Boba slowly laid back down and tried to remember what had happened:
The dragon gave a scream before sliding off the edge of the precipice. Boba felt a thrill of victory a second before something wrapped itself around his legs, knocking him off his feet and dragging him into the bottomless darkness. The dragon thrashed and continued its unearthly scream while falling. The dragon's tail still wrapped around his legs, Boba tried to claw and kick his way out of its grasp. A sudden draft of air flipped the dragon around so that it was facing Boba. Hissing out a growl, it strained upwards, partially succeeding in reaching its prey. Boba spat out a quick curse before reaching for his vibro-blade, only to find that it wasn't there. Boba felt fire course through his abdomen as the dragon's teeth bit into his armor with a dull clang. Painfully, he reached for his blaster and aimed it at the dragon's head and squeezed the trigger. The dragon gave a yelp of surprise, releasing Boba from its jaws. But it recovered quickly. Its long, serpentine body tensed with effort as it threw its head towards Boba again.
They fell, for what seemed like an eternity, before hitting the cold, black body of water with so much force that it felt like he landed on dura-crete. The battle continued underwater. Boba's strength slowly being leeched out, due to the frigid water, and the impact on it. Boba could tell that the dragon was also weakening, but at a slower rate than he. Boba fought as ferociously as he could, determining that if he was going to die the dragon would too.
The water was an advantage as well as a weakness. The dragon, a land reptile, did not have the edge that it did on land, whereas Boba was as lethal in the water as out of it. But Boba also knew that if he went under, he wouldn't be coming back up.
Slowly, Boba felt a growing clumsiness in his actions, and a fuzziness manifesting itself in his head. His reactions were no longer instantaneous, his mind beginning to not comprehend what was happening. A moment later, icy, black water closed over his head.
Boba put a hand to his head, trying desperately to recall what had happened after that. By all rights he should have drowned. Grimacing at the steady throbbing in his abdomen, Boba again sat up, this time succeeding in tamping down his nausea. He glanced around again, this time spying a dark shape a few meters from him. Peering at it curiously, Boba painfully began crawling towards it. He stopped a few feet from the object, panting heavily, head towards the ground. Black spots began dancing in front of his eyes. Oh no, Fett, you're not going to lose conciousness this time… Grunting with effort Boba lifted his eyes and got a good look at the shape. He felt his eyes widen in horror as a flashback hit him.
Boba broke to the surface, panting and choking. Masdon was nowhere to be seen. Not that that was surprising, seeing as Boba's Mandalorian helmet had lost its night-vision capability when he had hit the water. Boba struggled tiredly to keep his head above the water. The dragon's continuous, high-pitched squeal was suddenly interrupted by a lower, more robust roar. Boba felt his already-cold blood freeze. Another one. There was another one.
Boba jerked back to reality, his breathing uneven and ragged. "Fett? You there?" Boba made an effort to answer but found that he couldn't. All he could manage was a low moan. Patience, human. Not for the first time that night, Boba felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle: That thought had not been his own. He needed to get Masdon and get out of here, A.S.A.P. "M-Masdon? We are l-leaving now." Something wet and sticky spilled out of his mouth, and Boba slowly drew his hand across his face, vaguely realizing that it was blood. Masdon's head came into view. He smiled weakly. "Well, Fett, I don't think your going anywhere, right now…" Boba squinted his eyes as Masdon's face began to waver. Sleep sounded so good right now. Human, you must not sleep. You must fight it if you are to survive. How many times had he heard that on this hunt? He'd lost count.Oh, well. He'd wake up in time.
Young Hunter, you must awaken. Open your eyes. You must not fall asleep again. Young Hunter, you must awaken. Young Hunter… Boba gradually became aware of his surroundings. I wonder how long I was out, he wondered groggily. Slowly, he opened his eyes. Hovering over him was—No, it couldn't be. Boba felt the icy grip of fear as he stared at the creature above him. He suddenly couldn't breathe. Young Hunter, there is no reason to fear me. I am not like my counterparts whom you met before. Boba just stared, in a state of shock. The dragon, who, it seemed, was communicating telepathically with him, cocked its head. You humans are the strangest creatures I have ever encountered. Your friend over there was so startled that he seemed to have a heart seizure: The dragon's tone was one of amusement. Adrenaline was coursing through Boba's system, telling him either to flee or fight. Hunter? Can you understand me? Nothing the dragon was saying was registering. Breathing raggedly, Boba began backing away from the dragon. Young Hunter, you must not do any physical activity, while your wounds are such as they are. Young—
Boba mentally shut out the voice and concentrated on trying to stand. The dragon began to walk over to him, its stride suggesting annoyance. Shaking with effort, Boba got to his feet and began frantically searching for his blaster. The dragon's voice was beginning to sound stern. Young Hunter, if you do not do as I say I will be forced to restrain you myself. Boba wasn't listening: Where the stang is my blaster… He thought groggily. It was the last thing he remembered.
"Fett. Hey, Fett. Rise and shine! It is a gu-LORIOUS day!" Boba woke up to the sound of Masdon's overly cheerful voice. I am going to kill him, bounty or no, Boba thought angrily before opening his eyes and sitting up. "He lives! He breathes! He's almost human! Fett, I thought you to be more disciplined than this," Masdon said in an admonishing tone. Boba glared at Masdon. "More disciplined than what?" Masdon rolled his eyes, grinning. "You've been asleep for over thirteen hours, Fett. Shaqua and I thought that you were going to be out for at least another three." Boba shook his head lightly, trying to clear the cobwebs that unconsciousness had created. Thirteen hours? He couldn't have… Hello Young Hunter. I see that your friend has awakened you. Boba jerked back as the telepathic dragon came into view. "Whoa, easy there, Fett. Shaqua's a friend," Masdon said, still grinning. Boba glared at him for a second. "Just who is Shaqua?" Masdon motioned to the dragon, who was standing motionless behind him. "This is Shaqua. She's—"
"Why are you speaking of it as if it were a sentient being? And even if it were, why in Vader's name would you call it a friend!" Boba snarled. Masdon glanced at the beast, Shaqua, a second before answering. "You mean she hasn't talked, uh, thought to you?"
"Just because an animal can talk doesn't make it an intelligent being," Boba growled. "Fett, she doesn't just talk, she reasons! For crying out loud, don't tell me you haven't noticed that."
"I have not."
Masdon sighed in frustration before continuing. "Fett, have you even thought about how we survived that fall? Or how you're now on solid ground when that other dragon was about to drown you? Or how you were death warmed over and now your basically fine?" Boba didn't answer. Yes. He had thought about it. And yes, he had considered the possibility that this beast had contributed to his and Masdon's survival. But he had dismissed the idea as soon as it had presented itself. Masdon glanced at the dragon again, who did a very convincing imitation of someone rolling their eyes. "Shaqua says that it's fruitless arguing with you. And she also says that all of her kind are not like the Hylema clan."
"The what?" Boba asked sharply. Masdon glanced at him merrily. "The dragon's have clans. Shaqua's clan was scattered when the Hylema's attacked them in a surprise strike."
Boba sneered at Masdon. "You're trying to convince me that these animals have the ability to plan strategically—" Shaqua glided forward, her long, sinuous body undulating in agitation. Do not make the mistake, Young Hunter, of underestimating my kind. The Rlaxans—those who you refer to as 'dragons'—are more sly than even you can imagine. How do you suppose that Jenrod ambushed you in the first place? Through simple instinct? Shaqua snorted. You believe that we are mere animals? Jenrod was the youngest and stupidest of the Hylema clan, and yet he able to get the best of you on every occasion that you met. How much more damage could an intellectual among us do? Boba felt the beginnings of a shudder work its way up his spine. For the first time since he had seen Shaqua, he realized and appreciated how much larger she was than Jenrod: Jenrod had been maybe ten feet long, from snout to hindquarters, not including the tail. Shaqua on the other hand was almost twice that. Just one of her scales was as big as his hand. "Don't you think that you owe Shaqua an apology? And maybe some thanks?" Masdon asked. Boba stood up slowly. Shaqua looked at him with an unreadable expression as he inclined his head towards her. Masdon smirked. "Shaqua, coming from anyone else, that would be considered a slight. But getting a head nod from Boba Fett? That is an honor."
Alright, I'm sorry to torture you, but that's ALL I've been working on for weeks and weeks. I don't write that slow, its just that 1) I had writer's block 2) SCHOOL yes, excuses, excuses... MERRY CHRISTmas!