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The Fett Dynasty II: Siege of Orri Prime	By : WLTDNFADED Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 3810 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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OK, so Chapter three ain�t comin� together all that quick in my puny little brain, so once again, I�m posting what I have so far. Again, this is not all of it�sigh. Hope y�all enjoy!

Ivy

Grimacing, Jober tried to distract himself by watching airspeeders race by the huge windows as he waited in the great room of Czethros�s lush apartment. He didn�t need to check his timepiece to tell him that this was the time of day Czethros had his eye sockets washed and treated--- the screams that permeated through the bedchamber doors had already alerted the Bothan of his boss�s painful daily regimen.

�Fuck! GODDAMMIT! I told you to be careful, you stupid bitch! AAHHH! GET AWAY FROM ME! GET OUT! GET OUT!�

The doors slid open just as Czethros�s Twi�leki concubine was hurled through them. She tried to regain her balance, only to lose her footing completely on the edge of the plush red rug adorning the floor. She cried out as she landed hard on her knees and hands, and then curled herself into a tight ball on the rug, covering her face and weeping.

Jober casually walked over to her and regarded her crumpled form for a moment before grasping one of her cranial tentacles and forcing her head up. Crying out again, she gaped at Jober with reddened tear-stained eyes. A trickle of blood ran fher her nose, and the underside of her right eye was already deepening into a dark purple. He grasped her elbow and helped her to her feet. �Go clean yourself up,� he muttered as he escorted her to the door. �And watch yourself, all right? He�s got a lot on his mind right now.�

As the Twi�kei girl stumbled through the exit, Jober slowly paced toward the bedchamber door. Taking a deep breath, he rapped his furred knuckles against the jamb a couple times. �Boss?�

Czethros�s voice was low and raspy as it came through the door com. �Jober. Get your ass in here.� The doors slid opened once again. Jober stepped in and respectfully remained still in the entrance.

Czethros sat shirtless at his huge vanity table, his long green hair mussed and disheveled. With one hand he feverishly reached around the vanity counter for his bionic visor while shielding his naked sockets with the other. Finally finding it to his right, he placed it back over his face and snapped it to the implants on his temples with an anguished growl. The right blip of the optical scanner resumed its side-to-side track, allowing Czethros to easily find the syringe placed directly in front of him. He picked it up and, without hesitation or ceremony, shoved the syringe straight up his right nostril. He let out one more tortured roar and beat his fist against the tabletop. After a few seconds, his entire body melted and relaxeto tto the fur linedir, ir, and Jober saw his boss transform from a crazed, wounded animal back into the controlled, frigid Supreme Vigo of Black Sun.

Keeping his steps slow as he came to Czethros�s side, Jober asked, �You all right, boss?�

Czethros lazily lifted his head toward the Bothan, a limp smirk donning his lips. �You have to appreciate the Twi�leki homeworld for two things, Jober. The skin trade for one�� He lifted the syringe in front of his face, �And ryll for another.� He tossed the syringe back to the table and straightened in his chair, running a hand through the tangled mess of his hair. �Talk to me. What did we find on our �guest�?�

�Nothing.�

�What do you mean, �nothing�?�

�I mean nothing,� Jober replied with a shrug. �The guy has no background whatsoever. Only thing that showed up was his name on a planetary census conducted on Orri Prime about six months ago. Seems his story checks out�he�s just some hick miner.�

Czethros sat quietly for a time, rapping his fingers against the vanity top and mulling this information over in his mind. �Hmmm. Well, that does simplify things. Certainly won�t bruise anyone�s scales when I kill him, will it?� Rising from the chair, he strode to the ornate silver valet against the wall and picked off a sumptuous scarlet robe, draping it across his broad shoulders. �We�ll keep him around a little longer. He amuses me, and he is quite the wellspring of information after a few shots of Corellian whiskey.� He turned back. �Has Splitter spoken to our friends at Gen Corp?�

�Yes sir.� The Bothan pulled his lips back into a toothy sneer. �The shipping manager is more than pleased by your �contribution� to his retirement fund. He�ll be holding Orri Prime�s plasma gen parts for as long as you wish.�

�Excellent.� He planted himself directly in front of Jober, folding his arms over his chest. �And what about the Imperials?�

�I spokth mth my contacts, and they inform me that the Imps are hurting, boss. Bad. Much worse than they�ll let on.� Jober pulled a datapad from his vest and handed it to Czethros, his fur fervently rippling. �It took a few bribes, but I got the coordinates needed, as well as the clearance codes. My contacts believe the commanding officer may be quite interested in meeting with you.�

The corner of Czethros�s mouth curved up in a satisfied smirk as he took the datapad from Jober. �Jober, do you believe in destiny?�

�Not really, boss.�

�Well, if things keep going as smoothly as this, you will.� His sneer faded as he scanned the screen. �I don�t recognize these coordinates. Where the hell are they holed up?�

�The Outer Rim. Somewhere called the Maw Installation.�

�Never heard of it.�

Jober�s lip curled, revealing his fangs. �No one has. Until now.�

------------------------------

The blaster shot impacted the deflector target in a perfect b eye eye, sending ripples of plasma fanning out to the edges. Fett lowered the rifle, adjusted the actuating module on the side, and aimed again. The blast shot forth in a kaleidoscope array, hitting the outer perimeters of the target perfectly in a brilliant flare.

The arms salesman blew an impressed whistle. �Nice shootin�, friend. Not many can handle a Blastech EE-3 like that. Most people find it clumsy.�

�Most people are clumsy, period,� Fett muttered, firing again. And again, his shot was immaculate. He lowered the rifle and turned to the salesman. �You got a cutter?�

�For what?�

�For this barrel.�

The salesman scowled. �You cut it, you bought it.�

�No shit.�

The salesman shrugged. �You got it, friend.� He then reached under the counter and pulled out an energy cutter, handing it to Fett.

Fett took it, switched it on and sliced the meter-long barrel off the bulk of the gun. As the barrel noisily clanked against the steel floor, he tossed the cutter back to the salesman, raised the rifle one more time, and fired. The blast scattered across the shooting range, hitting the target�s center again�as well as scorching most of the gun shop�s back wall. �That�s better.�

�What the�� The salesman ccarecareening around the counter, his hands on his head. �Look what you did to my wall!�

�This should cover everything, including the paint job.� With that, Fett threw a fistful of credits across the counter. He slung the rifle across his shoulder to hang with the satchels of his purchases that day.

Once he had scanned the amount of credits, the salesman relaxed. �Oh�uh, yeah, that�ll be fine.� Fett started toward the door, only to stop when he heard the salesman ask, �Hey buddy, what�s with the headgear? You maimed or something?�

Turning just slightly over his shoulder, the bounty hunter sarcastically muttered, �No. Just shy,� and strode out the door.

The air of the Smuggler�s Moon was as thick and putrid as the its general populace. Fett stood momentarily on the mesh street platform outside the gun shop, ignoring the manic array of speeders, ships, and beings that glutted every square centimeter of surface and sky Nar Shaddaa had left to offer. It had been a good day purchase-wise: He had found every component, transistor, and piece of ammo he needed for his new armor with relative ease, and this final purchase of a rare Blastech EE-3 proved satisfying. Plasteel for the plating had been bought the day before, and Watto had already begun the smelting process. Tonight he would begin building the macro-systems in between plate moldings and fittings.

At each end of the mesh street were elevator lifts so massive, they could transport up to two hundred beings at a time to any of Nar Shaddaa�s vertical streets, catwalks, and spacedocks. Boba Fett, however, was never one for public transportation. As scores of bodies alien and human crammed themselves into the next available lifts, Fett drew a blaster-like device from his belt. Aiming it toward a huge steel girder thirty meters over his head, he pulled the trigger. A small barbed projectile hook burst out of the barrel, trailing a thin whipcord behind it. It hit the girder with resounding force, sinking its barbs securely into the metal. Hooking the device back into his belt, Fett flicked the winch switch and ascended off the platform, rising gracefully as speeder drivers frantically veered to keep from hitting him in mid-air.

He was fully intent on getting back to where he had docked Watto�s shuttle. But after only ascending a couple dozen meters to a street called Libation Row, a flash of brilliant colors to his left caught his eye. He turned to see two enormous dead-gray fueling towers flanked on either side by a row of run-down taverns, but nestled between them was a tiny shop. Bright, colorful swags of fabric were draped in the shop�s windows, and the outside of the shop was clean and freshly painted. The shop�s sign simply read, �Gifts.� It stuck out like a flower growing out of a scrap pile.

Fett considered the shop for a moment. He found it odd that he had never noticed it before during his numerous prior visits to the Smuggler�s Moon, but now he found himself intrigued�

He swung himself in mid-air, gaining enough momentum to plant him onto the street platform. Once his feet had hit the mesh, he released the hook from the girder and recoiled the whipcord. In spite of his disguise, Fett looked to either side to see if anyone was watching him. This particular walkway, however, was empty�any beings residing on the street were in the saloons. He walked forward and opened the shop door.

The shop�s interior was a completely different universe from the dirty industrial frenzy of Nar Shaddaa�s outside world. The air inside was clean and fragrant. Delicate mobiles made from wire and glass hung from the ceiling. The shelves were stocked with quaint and fragile figurines, exotic flowering plants, small sculptures, and perfume bottles. There were freestanding glass jewelry cases housing all types of bodily adornments. Racks against the walls sported vibrant clothing, mostly for females or children.

Fett immediately felt uncomfortable. He turned to leave when a warm female voice chimed in Basic, �Yes sir, may I help you?�

He�d been seen. Damn. He turned around to see an elderly, furry, and slightly chubby Bimm female standing behind the counter. She wore the traditional yellow clothing of the Bimm species as well as a wide, toothy, welcoming smile. She spoke again, saying, �Something I can help you find?�

Fett stood quiet for a moment. He awkwardly scratched his neck through the folds of his headwrap. �I�was interested in buying something. For a child.�

�Well, you have come to the right place.� The Bimm came around the counter, still wearing her warm, toothy grin. �A boy or a girl?�

He cleared his throat. �A boy.�

The Bimm�s eyes twinkled as she asked, �Your son?�

Fett paused before replying softly, �Yes.�

The Bimm stepped toward him. Fett stiffened instinctively, but then reminded himself that the alien meant no harm in the action. He even allowed her to gently pat his arm as she laughed, �Oh now, there is no reason to be embarrassed. Big bad smugglend pnd pirates have families and sweethearts too, just like everyone else. That�s why I opened shop here.� She started toward the counter again. �How old is your son?�

The Bimm�s warmth and openness helped Fett to relax a bit. �Five standard months.�

�Oh, a baby! I adore babies.� She bent down behind the counter and pulled a small, purplish sphere from underneath, placing it on the countertop. �This is a wonderful toy for infants. It�s an educational toy, teaching basic astronomy, physics, mathematics, and galactic anthropology. It also teaches twelve different languages, including Huttese and high Corellian�quite useful in these parts. It uses music and colorful holograms, so your child will never get bored!�

Fett perused the device. Yes, this was familiar�he had had a learning machine similar to this when he was a child. A soft, vague memory infiltrated his consciousness along with a lost, familiar voice�

*Boba, I have something for you�

Really, Dad? Oh boy, what is it�?

Come and see�*

He shook the memory from his mind as quickly as it had come. He glanced up to the Bimm shopkeeper. �I�ll take this.� As the Bimm beamed and proceeded to wrap it, Fett glanced about the shop again. A thought suddenly occurred to him. �Do you have anything in the way of weapons?�

The Bimm stopped in mid-wrap, and furrowed her fuzzy brow. �For a five month old child?�

Fett�s head snapped around, and his voice was low. �Is that a problem?�

�I�well, no sir, not at all.� She snapped her digits, and the smile returned. �Ah, yes, I have something. THESE have become quite popular since the Battle of Endor. And I must say, I think they�re adorable!� She turned and reached to a shelf. In her palm she held a small silver hilt. She tapped a tiny button on the side, and a half-meter shaft of blue light shot out. �Isn�t it precious?�

Fett curled his fist. �That�s a lightsaber!� he growled through his teeth.

The Bimm lady�s smile diminished somewhat, and her eyes instantly flickered in confusion and intimidation. �Well, yes�but it�s not REAL, I assure you. See?� she said as she waved the beam through her paw. �It�s only light. It�s completely harmless. Perfect for anyone who wants to play Jedi Knight! My own little nephew loves to pretend he is Luke Skywalker battling the Emperor--�

Fett raised his hand, abruptly stopping her in mid-sentence. He glared at the toy in her hand. The very thought of Kai brandishing a lightsaber�even if it was a toy�caused his gut to knot in disgust. Taking a calming breath, he flexed his hand before placing it on his hip. �No, I don�t want that. A blaster would be better.�

�Oh well, yes, I have that.� Putting the toy lightsaber back, she pulled a miniature replica handblaster off the shelf. �How about this?�

�Yes, I�ll take that.� As the Bimm added the toy to his parcel, Fett asked quietly, �Would you have anything for�for��

�Your wife?� the Bimm asked brightly.

�The boy�s mother,� Fett corrected flatly.

�I have all sorts of pretty things. What did you have in mind?�

He paused, frowning under his face wrap. It suddenly occurred to him that he had never given I�Lai a gift before: In fact, he had never bought a gift for a woman, period. What should he ask for? What, in this entire galaxy, could possibly be suitable for I�Lai? �Something�beautiful. Elegant. Like her.� He looked up from the countertop. �The most expensive thing you have.�

The Bimm�s eyes lit up, and her grin became subtle and satisfied. �Looks like I�ll be closing early today.� She bustled toward the back of the shop, and Fett heard the sound of rustling. Upon her return, she held a tiny, intricate crystal sculpture of a poised, long-necked alien bird, its wings spread wide in a graceful display. �I�m not even supposed to have this,� she whispered. �Anything made of ilum crystal is illegal.� She furrowed her brow. �Well, at least it was during the Emperor�s reign. I don�t know about now. Well, anyway�look.� She flicked a miniscule switch on the base of the sculpture. As the crystal bird began to rotate, a sweet, lovely tune emitted from it. Suddenly, an ethereal hologram of a stunning white bird rose up from the sculpture, sweeping through the glass mobiles of the ceiling. �Isn�t it beautiful? It can be programmed with any tune you like, and the bird changes color according to whatever spectrum that particular musical key is in.�

Fett watched the bird morph from dazzling white to a soft blue, then to a vibrant gold, all the while singing its sweet song. The corner of his lip tugged up. �She likes birds,� he murmured, almost inaudibly. He turned to the shopkeeper. �I�ll take it.�

�But�you don�t even know how much it is��

�I don�t care. Wrap it up.�

�Excellent choice, sir.� Shutting it off, the Bimm plache she sculpture in a light yet strong duralloy packing box and bagged it with the toys. Fett placed a purse of credits on the counter, grabbed the satchel and, nodding his thanks to the shopkeeper, started toward the door.

Just as he was about to leave, the Bimm chirped after him, �I�m sure your family will love these gifts.�

He stopped in his tracks. He turned and regarded the Bimm lady, who was still standing behind the counter, smiling brightly. She reminded him of Nikoa, I�Lai�s maid, who was also warm and kind. And for a brief moment, he found himself thinking of someone else. Someone tall, alien, and pale�Taun We. Besides Jango, she had been the closest thing he had ever had to�

Family.

The tender impact of the Bimm�s words suddenly began to sink in. �My family,� he whispered. He lifted his head a bit and, meeting the Bimm�s smiling eyes through his goggles, replied quietly, �Yes, I�m sure they will.�

The shop door slid open, and Boba Fett stepped out into the street�only to be knocked to the ground by what seemed to be brown fur wrapped around a two and a half meter wall of muscle and bone.

The instant Fett�s shoulders had hit the hard mesh walkway, he instinctively flung his legs over his head and snapped them forward into a kip, hurling himself back onto his feet. He dropped the sack of gifts to the ground, swung his rifle into his hand, and took instant aim straight at the roaring Wookiee�s head�

�Whoa, whoa, WHOA!! Hey, stop, both of you�STOP! CHEWIE!�

Fett held his stance and his fire as he watched an intoxicated Han Solo, dressed in civvies and a long dark duster, stumble in front of a drunk Chewbacca.

�Chewie, back off!� Solo ordered, planting a firm hand on the Wookiee�s massive chest. Chewbacca in turn roared at his captain, gesturing in sluggish anger at Fett. �No, he didn�t get in your way. You knocked him down because you�re drunk!� Another series of growls ensued, and Solo replied with inebriated logic, �Yeah, I know I am too�but you don�t see me barreling down the street like a rusty AT-AT now, do you? Now just�relax.� As Chewbacca huffed and backed away in a heavy stumble, Solo turned to Boba Fett, who still held his deadly aim, and waved his hand. �Hey pal, put it away, OK? It was an accident. Are you all right?�

Fett narrowed his eyes behind his goggles. He doesn�t know me, he thought. He lowered his rifle and straightened up. He nodded once.

Solo was trying his best to appear sober�and doing a lousy job of it. Rubbing his nose and pulling himself straight, he blurted, �You have to forgive my friend here, buddy. You know Wookiees can�t hold their liquor like we can, right?� He snorted a laugh through his nose, and took a step forward. �Come on, let me by you a drink, OK?�

Fett stepped back and raised the rifle to his side, shaking his head.

Solo immediately stepped back and raised his hands. �Hey, whoa, no need to be like that, pal. Just trying to be friendly.�

A smile suddenly tugged at Fett�s lip under his face wrap. Lowering his rifle again, Fett said, �Oi�ya cantai mai�tee tunu�cacat, Oriti,� in ancient Mandelore. Translated: �Glad to see you�re still an idiot, Solo.�

Han knit his brows for a second. �Wha�? Oh�don�t speak Basic, huh? Um, ok.� He made a drinking gesture. �Buy�you�a�drink?� He pointed at the nearest tavern with his thumb. Again, Fett shook his head. Han shrugged. �OK�well, how about letting me pick this stuff up for you, OK?� He gestured toward the gifts scattered on the ground.

Holding his humor in his throat, Fett nodded. He watched Solo lumber toward the pile of gifts and bend over to pick up the toy blaster he had bought for Kai.

Turning it over in his hand, Han grinned. �Aw, got a kid, huh?� Solo�s grin grew wider. �Yeah, hope to have a little bugger of my own someday. Of course, gotta get the wife to stop saving the universe for five minutes so I can�woops.� Turning to Chewbacca, he put his hand to his nose as he held back a laugh. �Not supposed to tell anyone, right Chewie? Her Worship would hold me in committee for months over that.� Suddenly, he busted out in drunken giggles. Chewbacca merely rolled his eyes.

Fett raised his eyebrows slightlyind ind his goggles. He stood silent for a moment before replying, �Akai tu�duwai artiat �chi tunat� oka?� Translated: �She actually married your sorry ass? Poor girl.�

Han squinted at the disguised bounty hunter. �What? Oh yeah, no Basic. Well then, the secret�s safe, Chewie!� Still sniggering, he bent again to pick up the remainder of the gifts.

Fett stared at the back of Solo�s head through his goggles, and his finger tightened just slightly around the trigger. It would be so easy at this moment, wouldn�t it? Two shots on an empty street, and these drunken buffoons, these enemies would be dead, with no one the wiser. He could just walk away, and the local authorities would assume it was just another robbery gone bad on the streets of the Smuggler�s Moon �

No.

That was not his way. He had sworn an oath and, no matter what temptation may cross his path, he would uphold it. But moreover, oath or not, he had made a promise to I�Lai that he would never harm her friends. Despite what the rest of the galaxy might thof hof him, he was a man of honor and of his word. When that day would come for him and Solo to settle their score, it would be hand-to-hand, like men. Not like this.

He suddenly had the feeling that he himself was being watched, and he lifted his head meet Chewbacca�s stare head on. The Wookiee�s only movement was the flaring of his wide nostrils as he inhaled Fs scs scent from four meters away. Recognition slowly crept over the Wookiee, and Chewbacca narrowed his eyes and lowered his arms to slowly grasp his crossbow slung on his shoulder. A low growl rose from his throat.

Fett continued to stare Chewbacca down, never flinching once. Slowly, he raised the rifle to his chest, holding it across. Relaxing his stance just slightly, he tipped his head to the Wookiee in his slow, customary manner�just as he had that day in Jabba the Hutt�s palace.

It was at this moment that Han Solo, completely oblivious to the silent exchange, had picked the duralloy packing box off the ground and placed it back into the bag. �All set, friend�here.� He handed the bag to Fett, who took it without breaking his stare on the Wookiee. �You sure you won�t have a drink with us?�

Fett merely shook his head.

�Well, OK then. Again, sorry about that whole thing. Come on, Chewie; Sarro�s sabgamegame is starting soon.� Solo gestured to his first mate as he turned and stumbled slightly down the walkway.

With his crossbow still in paw, Chewbacca stepped toward Fett. Fett, in turn, took a step toward Chewbacca. They stood there for a few moments until Chewbacca finally broke the silence. He gurgled a series of grunts. *You understand Wookiee, don�t you?*

�A little,� Fett replied quietly.

Chewbacca paused, then asked, *Why didn�t you try to kill him?*

Fett smirked under his disguise, but his blaster remained steady and his tone dangerous. �Consider it a wedding present.�

Chewbacca�s lip curled in a snarl, then turned to go. He stopped and, over his shoulder, added, *You saved your own life today, bounty hunter. Just remember that.*

�I�ll keep it in mind, Matey.�

�CHEWIE! COME ON! What�s the hold-up?!� Han yelled from down the street. Chewbacca threw Boba Fett one last warning glance before slinging his crossbow back over his shoulder and lumbering back to join Solo as he made his way down the street.

Fett watched them until they disappeared into a saloon well down the way. As soon as they were gone, he shot the winch-cord into the girder one more time and, with all of his packs in tow, hoisted himself to his shuttle�s dock.
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The Fett Dynasty II: Siege of Orri Prime