The sublight alarm woke Boba Fett from his sleep. Boba shook off the dream of the Sarlacc pit, one of the many dreams that haunted him these last thirty years. He rubbed the back of his head and counted his blessings that at least that dream was one that he liked; that is compared to the others. Sleep was hardly restful for him anymore.

His Kom'rk class fighter, the Blade-4, exited hyperspace into orbit around the orange-hued and ringed planet of Geonosis. The light from its sun, Ea, shown into through the cockpit window, causing Boba to squint his eyes as they adjusted from waking up.

Boba straightened himself in his seat and looked with ambivalence on the planet where his father, Jango Fett had been killed about sixty years before. Jango Fett had not been a traditional father to Boba. Jango had been a clone template for the Kaminoans during the Clone Wars, and as part of his payment for offering his genetic data to the cloners, he had requested an unaltered clone for himself; that was Boba Fett.

Boba picked up his father's Mandalorian helmet, still displaying a dent from when his father wore it. Boba could have fixed that scar, but to him that was pointless. He rubbed his finger over the indentation, a physical reminder of another nightmare he was plagued with, the death of his father and a revenge he could never attain. The man and the helmet were one, and his own scars he could not hammer away. This helmet he had lost, and then by a series of fortunate events he had recovered a year prior. He slid it on, checked the ship's system, and was pleased to see no problems from the long hyperspace journey.

He opened a HoloNet transmission and sent an encrypted call to the surface.

"PZ-85," a monotone droid voice answered over the HoloNet.

"PZ, it's me. I'm coming in," Boba replied.

"Yes, Master Boba," PZ-85 replied. "We are ready for your arrival."

"Good," Boba stated and switched off the HoloNet.

The Blade-4's sharp wing stabilizers spiraled around the cockpit as the ship dove into the atmosphere of planet Boba Fett now called home.

...

The Blade-4 descended through the arid sky toward the tawny landscape of the desert planet. Geonosis was largely devoid of life, the Empire having sterilized the planet during the First Galactic Civil War. Boba lowered the ship into a deep valley between two titanic mountain ranges and followed the path for a few kilometers. As the valley curved, a flat dirt landing pad appeared. He slowed to a hover and descend onto a landing pad next to an HH-87 Starhopper, a small one-man starfighter he had confiscated from a Hutt clan years ago. Beyond the pad was a medium-sized shelter set flush against the steep valley wall and multiple moisture vaporators scattered around on any flat surface.

The ship's ramp lowered; and Boba, dressed in his full armor exited. He kicked up orange dust as his armored boots tread across the flat landing pad. Beyond the pad, large rock spurs jutted out of the side of the steep valley wall, and a path twisted its way up to the shelter. The valley was eerily silent except for the sudden gusts of wind that blew up intermittent clouds of dust around him. Boba looked to his left and right and lowered his hand to his side-arm disruptor pistol, his fingers stretching in pregnant anticipation.

Another gust of wind hid his view of the shelter in a nebulous cloud of sand. The slight and quiet sound of a charging blaster could be heard in front of him. Without a thought, Boba dove to the side as a red streak of a blaster shot streaked through the hazy atmosphere. He rolled behind a rock spur, his pistol grasped firmly in his right hand and his finger on the trigger. The air cleared as the wind abated. He rose to look over the edge of the boulder to see, but there was no one, the assailant having hidden behind one of the many rock projections after the dust cloud had passed.

Boba made his way cautiously from one rock to another, but no one fired. Another gust of wind came with its expected, dusty blanket. Again from within the cover, the sound of a blaster charging whined and a red blast lit the thick cloud. Boba ducked again, the blast missing its mark. However, this time, Boba rose and fired a series of quick shots into the cloud and ran forward, twisting up the path as his right finger rolled out rapid pistol blasts. The cloud passed and the air cleared. As he neared the top of the path, Boba stopped behind large rock spire, holstered his pistol, and held up his hands.

A one-and-a-half-meter tall figure stood fifteen paces behind Boba and held a blaster aimed at him. The assailant wore a wide-eyed silver helmet with toxin-filter and lean chest armor marked with a red starburst.

"Gotcha," a young girl's voice rang out.

"Really?" Boba questioned.

A small beep emitted from at the girl's feet. She looked down to see the split second red light of a sonic charge at her feet just as it exploded. Her body fell limp to the ground, the helmet clanging on the boulder next to her as she fell.

Boba dusted off his gauntlets with a confident aura, and called to the shelter, "PZ, get the girl inside!" He turned and walked the few meters left to the shelter, as a dark gray humanoid droid stepped out.

"She is getting better," PZ-85 stated with flatness.

"No," Boba replied. "Just get her in."

According to the Disney-sanctioned Star Wars Aftermath, Jawas had possession of a set of Mandalorian Armor shortly after the Pit of Carkoon fight. If you are interested in finding out what the "series of fortunate events" are that led to Boba's recovery of this armor please read my other fanfiction Episode VIII Rise of the Dark Jedi.