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Crime Lord of the Empire	By : Semangelof Category: Star Wars (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 50098 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. Neither do I profit from these writings.

Chapter List
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/* I've been busy with work, family. et cetera. I've returned surprised at the support. Mostly surprised at how Luke Skywalker, whom I like with no doubt, has maintained such attention despite not being the center of the story. Rereading the chapters and the typos I regret not being able to edit it to make it more readable. Again, thank you for reading what had stemmed from a practice amidst writer's block while struggling to write articles fit for publishing. While I have no doubt that this story will NEVER bear my name amongst my other published work, I want to tell all the fans of Slave Leia out there to know that you are not alone. Yay. - Semangelof */

Boba Fett paced restlessly before the crippled Jedi who was strung on a metal frame apparatus. Intravenous lines drained the human while replenishing him with Bacta solvents that successfully supplied oxygen but rendered him nearly comatose. It was a technique devised by himself in the early years when he hunted Jedi under the orders of the Dark Lord. Theoretically it would deplete the captive Jedi of the Midichlorians, and he had personally seen much success for captives whom he had no significant obligation to preserve for purposes other than simple interrogation. While the Dark Lord had expressed his succinct desire to see Skywalker unharmed, the power emanating from the boy was so powerful he had to relapse to his debilitating technique. What worried him was not so much that the boy was being rendered inert of the Force, but that despite serum readings that he was lacking in Midichlorians as a Storm Trooper, he still managed to perform bouts of surge with the Force that only a Jedi could muster. What troubled Fett more was that after hours of draining Skywalker, Midichlorian counts seemed to replenish themselves as well.
Early Jedi scholars had been mired in famous discussions surrounding the nature of the Midichlorians. Whether it was a question of the “hen and the egg”, or whether Midichlorians were simply proxy of confounding results in extremis; Fett now considered the latter. Somehow Skywalker was almost Force essence entirely.
However, his apparatus did succeed in subjugating the Jedi to bare struggles and random acts of telekinesis.
“Can’t wait to get this Jedi off the premises.” Bib Fortuna muttered as he finished transferring the remaining balance to Fett’s account. “You seem more jumpier than your usual verbose and cheerful self.”
Fett ignored Bib, instead placing commands to the ground crew to run a final check up on the Slave-1.
“Your ship is fine.” Bib grunted. “It’s the palace I’m worried about. Scavengers have reported a significant lack in activity surrounding the palace. The imperials are making ready for an operation. We may be seeing some double crossing, and this concerns you as well!”
Fett nodded. “It’s a short trip.”
“I know it’s not my concern, but it is!” Bib hissed, hastily adding. “My master’s safety is of the utmost importance.”
Fett let out a guttural gurgle that Bib could not discern whether he was laughing or shrugging him off. Whatever the interpretation, the bounty hunter was not letting him any insight. Fett was not concerned for the Hutt. The Hutt had proved time and again that he was resourceful. Fett’s primary concern was his own delicate plans. Both the sending and receiving end of the package, Hutt and Vader, were both prone to betray him without a moment’s notice. The only scenario in which he found optimal mission achievement was leaving Tatooine and arriving on board the Executor by whatever means. This plan distilled itself down to the functionaries at each end point: Jabba’s ground crew at the hangar, and Admiral Piett. Piett and Fett never got along well, but he had ensured enough overhead to flow to Piett’s personal funds to prevent the Admiral from remitting from his agreement; such transactions were impossible with Vader directly. The possible foils in his plan were many, and he knew them better than anyone else. First was the imperial garrison of Tatooine headed by Commander Kiels. Fett knew that the garrison commander had gone through extensive personal funds to call attention to Moff Jerrjerod. Second was the Huttlet Rotta, who would probably propound the Hutt’s agenda more bluntly than his sly father. Third was the gambler Calrissian whom Fett had ensured to disconnect from the Rebellion Command. His activities served as a litmus to allow Fett insight into the most active elements to liberate the Jedi and the Princess.
“The local garrison plans to strike tomorrow, Master.” Saryah entered through the shadows. “Calrissian’s attempts to garner support in the local insurgents has failed, and he has been effectively incapacitated.”
Fett turned to his Twi’lek agent. “Thank you.”
Saryah savored Fett’s sincere gratitude.
Fett walked over and pulled up her wrist, wrapping around a small bracelet. “This device will aid you in your travels, Miss Saryah. I wish you success in your endeavors.”
Saryah looked down at her bracelet, noticing the nobs and dials attached. Fett was leaving, and payment meant only one thing, which she spoke out loud as if to ask confirmation, “I will not see you again.”
Fett nodded and brusquely turned away.

Before the twin suns of Tatooine appeared above the desert, a horde of walkers and anti-gravity vehicles lined themselves above the slope leading down to Jabba’s palace. Kiels reached for his binoculars as he scouted the deployment of his men. One legion strong, but only one thousand were mobilized in this assault, due to the weathered machinery and equipment. He hoped that it was more than enough. His sights soon found the Scout Trooper Deacon scaling the walls of the palace cliff, long rifle slung to his armored suit. Deacon will be taking strategic point, also tracking the main quarry.
A signal chimed in from his Sergeant.
“Moff Jerrjerrod’s fleet will have finished deployment in one hour, Commander.”
“They can’t lend us ground forces?” sneered Kiels.
Grinfort shrugged. “They say our only purpose is to send the quarry to them.”
“And what if the Hutt lashes out on us?”
Grinfort shrugged and cut communications.

Moff Jerjerrod rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The capture of the last Jedi was no small feat. If successful it could promote him to a position left vacant since Tarkin’s demise. After the brief stint capturing Fett and Skywalker, he planned to proceed directly to Endor to present his prize to the Emperor, ground forces be damned. While it would have taken little exertion for his fleet to decimate a local criminal enterprise, he was not taking chances.
“Ground forces have commenced attack, Lord Jerjerrod.”
The Moff smiled. “Spread out the fleet planet wide. I don’t want anyone breaking through.”

Mara Jade finished her climb to the top of the cliff. Despite her undernourishment, she felt full of energy, almost jumping from ledge to ledge during her ascent. Now hidden behinds barrels of supply and fuel, she espied the ground crew of the Hutt preparing for Slave-1’s departure. There was only a handful of men servicing the bounty hunter’s unseemly vehicle, and Mara easily crept in to garrote one, slipping into his uniform and helmet.
Her plan was to take Fett in surprise, free Skywalker and run off in Fett’s ship. The problem was that she was still in indecision whether to have Fett complete his loading of Skywalker or take him as soon as he appeared. While the former would allow her to avoid the other ground crew, it also risked Fett’s easier escape. She would have to soldier up and take him in advance.
She began to discreetly disembowel the surplus fuel cells around the platform, ensuring that the posse would be limited in following her once she commandeered the Slave-1. After she was satisfied, she went about silently dispatching one ground crew after another. By the time the platform was vacant, she crept into the Slave-1, ready to spring her trap.

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By mid day the forces had finished lining up on their select positions. Deacon watched through his Scout trooper visor as Boba Fett entered the platform, aided by a few stock guard droids pushing the Rebel hanging from a rack.
"Commander," Deacon alerted Kiels as he snuggled his rifle, sights aligning perfectly with Fett's helmet. "Fett is in the open. I repeat: Fett is in the open."
Deacon was a superb sniper. His skills in combat were primarily achieved snuggled in an eagle's nest high above the fray. Though he was deft in piloting a speeder, firing from a moving vehicle towards a moving target seemed like a waste of ammunition, especially when he could always easily achieve the objective with a carefully placed shot. Two things had always mired Deacon's successful service record: first, his back water upbringing, and second, an unlucky succession of inept commanders. Again life came around to bite him in the back. Deacon cursed as an over eager cannon fire shook his focus, making him fire a wild shot at a cannister on the platform.
What he had expected to blow in a spectacular display of pyrotechnics simply broke and cracked.
Under the commotion, Deacon processed what had followed: there was sabotage at play. And somehow, the Plan will probably not go well.

The details of the subsequent attack on the platform was not lost on Fett as well. Fett quickly aimed to fire at Skywalker's legs. Vader would not punish Fett for a limbless boy, and Fett would have decreased the chances of losing his prey. What followed still haunted the bounty hunter to later days. Fett's shot entirely missed the strung and incapacitated Jedi. Removing his vision from the sights, Fett was awestruck as he found the Jedi simply was not there. Immediately his senses tingled danger, as he rolled out of the way, barely avoiding the scapped remains of one of the guard droids. Through the blur of sand rising like a tornado about the platform, Fett graced the power of the being that Vader must have aspired to become.
The the sandstorm, Luke Skywalker, who was nearly depleted of blood, who could barely lift his head, who failed even to elicit pain reactions when his arm was severed, now floated about in crackling halo of energy.
Before his awe could subside, a cannon blast erupted about his ship. Fett immediately scrambled into the safety of his hull, his armor interface rapidly quick starting the ship's systems. He began unleashing the fury of the Slave-1 on the Jedi. Salvo after salvo of raw energy ripped the landing platform, as Fett watched in amazement at the Jedi who darted about.
Fett hurriedly entered his cockpit to turn to full power of his ship against the Jedi. It was only the sense honed by years hunting Jedi that Fett was able to anticipate what followed. WIthout thinking, in reflex, Fett jabbed a disruptor pulse to his would-be assailant. Mara Jade crumpled to the floor, disruptor energy pulsating throughout her. Normally what would have been a savoring moment, Fett hurriedly collected the body of the red haired Sith agent and dragged her to the entrance of his ship.
With the inert woman in his arms, Fett calmly stood his ground, firing a single rocket to catch Skywalker's attention. The one limbed Jedi slowed down, barely able to collect himself from his exertion, again returning to his mortal visage he seemed to shrink in stature, spent. The two combatants eyed each other, almost in mutual respect. Fett could see now the small farmboy again, anemic from his administrations and breathing heavily.
Fett nodded in sincere admiration, before nonchalantly firing a disruptor flare into the Jedi's heart.

Below on the planes, the Imperial forces were storming the palace. Jabba's swoop gang was easily decimated under superior firepower. Deacon could see several small skiff carrying the more important staff of Jabba's palace speed away with spoils, like rats fleeing a sinking ship. He had managed to snipe the drivers of a couple of skiffs, which rammed into the dunes with satisfactory blossoms of red fire. But there was little satisfaction in what little insurgency he had quelled. Fett had subjugated the Jedi. And the combat that had preceded it had dwarfed Deacon into uncertainty about the scale of galactic warfare. There were beings out there in the stars that could easily take his life. His assessment was rewarded when he jumped from his position to barely avoid a well placed warning shot. His scope found Fett, dragging the female and the Jedi on board his ship, while with one hand deftly targeting Deacon in what he had considered a camouflaged position. Certain that Fett would not let him live if he pursued his aggression, he had waved his rifle to the bounty hunter in a show of surrender.
After that, Deacon had spiraled into a resignation, taking potshots at escaping criminals. He watched the Slave-1 lift off for space, as he seriously contemplated a life outside the military.

"Deacon stopped reporting in." Grinfort growled. "I think Fett got him."
Kiels watched the Slave-1 become a speckle in the fading constellation of the early morning sky.
"We've done our job. Start looting the Palace. I want every criminal with even a traffic violation executed on spot. Inform the Commandos to exert extreme prejudice. I'd be surprised to find anyone who's innocent of the Imperial law in that den of filth."
"As you command."

Saryah quickly picked her way down to Malaki's cavern. The bracelet she had toyed around with seemed to be a cloaking device. Knowing how much energy those things would consume, she had quickly switched it off after uncovering its function. It took extreme effort of will to activate it as she made her final descent to freedom. Calrissian's jewelry and Fett's payment would come in handy for her enterprise she planned to set up in Mos Eisley. But the slew of rewards the two men had awarded her for her agency in their conflicting endeavors, only the bracelet now protected her from the rampage about. Storm Troopers had begun entering the palace. Rhee Yees, Tessek and Bib Fortuna had all scrambled about, trying to collect their hidden stash of spice, money and women into their escape vehicles they had sequestered up during their career in the Hutt's criminal empire. Many non-human slave girls had opted to be liberated by the major courtiers than face the uncertain fate of being distributed amongst the Imperial forces. Some human slave girls had surrendered themselves to the Storm Troopers, hoping their racial status would find them sympathy amongst the anti-alien military gungho. Fleetingly Saryah wondered what had happened to Leia, as she did not see the Alderani during the commotion. Saryah assumed she was still chained to Jabba, and did not dare venture back towards the main court room.
She closed her mind, focusing only on escape. It was succinctly her survival against everyone else. She finally turned on the cloaking device and entered Malaki's room. The beast master was busy collecting his own loot from hidden orifice about his room. Jewelry that had been cleaned off the feces of the Rancor had always found their way into his pockets. WIthout the least show of remorse, Saryah plunged her vibroblade deep into his bowels before decloaking.
"Thank you." Saryah curtsied as she gathered Malaki's well packed stash. Malaki gurgled in surprise as Saryah fished about his pocket for the keys to his ride. With one last look around the cavern, she entered the tunnel, never to set foot in the Palace again.

"The ground forces report the scouring of the Palace complete." the Aide intoned. "The Thunder reports Fett's signature is coursing below the atmosphere, heading to the poles. "
Moff Jerjerrod nodded. "He won't be able to escape us. I want interdiction cruisers covering the polar areas immediately. Send Captain Harron to cover-"
Before he could finish a comm officer screamed an alert as alarms rang throughout the bridge. "Incoming signature. Forty capital ships outside firing range, approaching rapidly!"
Alarms blared as confusion clouded Jerjerrod's mind. Forty! Capital ships! That was overkill for any operation. Who were they? Jerjerrod's mind was dizzying.
"It's the Executor!"
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Crime Lord of the Empire