As I was getting close to the end of the Star Wars Friends, it was requested that I include Jabba the Hutt as part of the project. Since I couldn’t say no to such a request, I made a Friends interpretation of Jabba, who is now pink with blue sparkles.
“Don’t dream it, be it.” I was flipping through an old notepad and saw that I had jotted down “Jabba with a sexy leg” in my notes. So of course I had to make it a reality!
Pairings: PreSarlacc!Boba Fett x Fem!Reader, HanxBoba (enemies)
Summary: After losing your family in an Empire attack, you fled to the Outer Rim seeking refuge and anonymity. But one bad turn after another led you to Tatooine and being sold into slavery at Jabba’s palace instead. It seemed like all would end there as well, until you found an unlikely connection with one of the fiercest bounty hunters alive. (Story includes cameos from Han Solo and Chewbacca as well.)
Warnings: Reader being treated like a piece of property within the palace. Reader having PTSD from dealings with the Empire before. *Contains smut*, but not until near the end. Full consent, but unprotected vaginal sex. Also oral sex with female receiving.
Notes: Set before the original trilogy. Apologies if I screwed anything up. It’s been a while since I’ve watched the films. I tried to stay reasonably within the lines. Also I don’t know if the Sanctuary cantina was in Mos Espa yet at this time, but I’m saying it was because I adore Garza Fwip.
In some ways, you felt as if none of this were real. Because how many times could this kind of violence really happen to the same person without them finally giving up? Maybe you did have the worst luck in the galaxy.
But why were you still alive? Why did you even want to still be alive?
Even with the taste of blood in your mouth, and the sting of the chains now cutting into your wrists, you kept your head up as you were introduced to your newest potential masters.
Jabba the Hutt had had a sensitive disagreement with your former place of employment. But all you remembered was the blaster fire in the middle of the night. And then being dragged from your shared sleeping quarters with the other workers before your reflexive resistance had meant the butt of a gun cracked against the side of your face in return.
You knew the ones you’d worked for must already be dead, while the ones you’d worked with were being appraised and sold to not even the highest, but rather just the quickest bidders. It was a firesale of sorts, but on sentient beings.
“She is a droid maker and rebuilder, my Lord Jabba.” A pasty looking Twi'lek commented from near the grotesque crimeboss’ side. You were being judged, so quickly torn down to just the meager worth of your few skills alone.
“200 credits,” A Trandoshan from within the group of nearby buyers spoke abruptly. They were evidently all representatives from the local families and tribes which fell under Jabba’s jurisdiction.
You wanted to stare at the floor as such a low monetary value was assigned to your body and mind. But you couldn’t look away as you felt that overgrown slug’s eyes cutting through you in return. To you, Jabba’s true ugliness didn’t have to do with his size or shape. It was that air of intense cruelty, of gluttony, and of greed which exuded out all around him.
That is what made such a visceral reaction inside of you when your eyes met. You instantly hated all that he was.
And when he laughed in return, actually laughed then, it was a wet almost rattling sound.
You didn’t speak Huttese. So you couldn’t understand him as he spoke about you afterward, or know why his white Twi’lek and some of his other lackeys had then turned their heads towards him as if surprised.
“Of course, my Lord Jabba,” The Trandoshan responded, lowering their head submissively. “I rescind my bid at once.”
“Then it is done.” The Twi’lek made a gesture as he spoke next, and the guards at either side of you were then walking quickly again. The small slack in your chains was gone immediately as you were pulled forward to follow them.
But still no one explained anything to you. You could be walking to your own execution for all you knew.
The impatient guards now yanked you so roughly that you half stumbled. And just at the edge of a doorway that exited from the throne room, another hired gun lingered there. When he did not move, your shoulder almost grazed his weathered armor before you corrected your footing.
That hateful gaze you’d shown to Jabba couldn’t help but remain on your face as you looked fleetingly to the stranger though. But it was only an emotionless full face helmet staring back at you, through you, before their head turned back away. Their attention just shifting to the next poor creature that came onto the auction block in your place.
Truly the dregs of the galaxy resided here, heartless and unbothered by those they considered beneath them.
———————————
And that first night in the palace hadn’t gotten any better for you after. You did get to keep your life, for now at least. But they only removed the chains attached to your wrists in favor of a longer one then attached to your ankle.
You had been brought down to a lower level. It was greasy and dirty in a way that said it’d seen no deep cleaning ever just as it would never see any natural light here, even from Tatooine’s twin suns.
But you recognized the work space for what it was. There were parts and tools scattered all around haphazardly. Your chain was just long enough for you to move around the room, and to reach a closet like adjoining space which housed a sleeping cot, sink, and a vac tube/toilet. Lovely enough, you also found that the door to this ‘bedroom/bathroom’ had already been locked in the open position only.
Not to say you had any expectations of privacy anymore either. But once left alone and without further instructions given, you used the sink to wash your bruised face as best you could. The odd smelling water was no doubt recycled from some larger, unseen storage tank. But it was all you had energy left for before laying down on the hard cot to close your eyes and pretend to be literally anywhere else until you were called upon again.
———————————
The weeks that followed all ran together of course. You stopped trying to keep track of how many days had passed since your capture, because what did it even matter anymore?
It became obvious that Jabba had decided to keep you for whatever reason rather than sell you. It was also abundantly clear that the droids of the palace had not at all been properly maintained. And at first, those droids with complicated enough processors to be cognizant and cautious of you, were very much on guard and tight lipped so to speak.
But droid work and understanding them really was the one thing you were good at. And after a while of always tending to them and speaking to them respectfully, they did start to open up to you.
You learned that they had mostly been dependent on servicing one another. Either that or Jabba would just discard them and buy all new if they malfunctioned in a way which another droid couldn’t conceal for them.
This little workshop of yours had been unused for years apparently. The last slave to call it home had died a long time prior and just never been replaced as Jabba didn’t see any financial benefit to droid husbandry when he thought them all just as replaceable as any other machines.
But when you finally tried to ask the droids what had changed, why abruptly Jabba would pick you to reopen this workshop again, they sincerely didn’t seem to know.
So you stopped asking. And you tried to put all your effort into at least making things as good as you could for the droids that came to you. Even the snobbier and ridiculously Hutt loyal ones, you didn’t blame them for your own circumstances. They were just cogs in the same class system that you were now at the bottom of.
All you could do was help them, even when you could not help yourself. And so you did. Over and over, more of the same. Nothing was ever different.
At least not until that same hired gun came to you alone late one night.
Having completed all the work you’d been given for the day, you’d already been on your cot. Not asleep, but daydreaming. Somehow you were still able to. They could never chain your mind the same as your body you supposed.
“Droid builder,” The male voice had interrupted you so suddenly then.
You hadn’t even heard him coming down the stairs to your little dungeon as you startled up into a sitting position.
But it was him. The one you’d seen in the throne room the night you lost the last of your freedom. The man with the dark green metal armor and full face helmet.
You didn’t fail to notice the rifle slung across his back or the pistol on his belt either.
“Yes?” You asked warily. Your first assumptions then turning dark. Were you no longer needed? Was he here to dispose of you already in his master’s name?
But his voice betrayed nothing, just cold and to the point. “Are you knowledgeable on audio circuitry?”
You stared. Of course you were. But he had no droid with him, unless they were smaller and concealed somewhere on his person. “Yes.” You answered, returning his lack of elaboration with directness of your own.
“Then I need a repair completed tonight.” He responded immediately.
This wasn’t normal protocol. Even you knew that. But you had no power to deny him such a direct request. He was in Jabba’s higher ranks. If they came down here and asked something of you, you’d likely be punished severely for any pushback.
You had stood from the bed now, your ankle chain dragging audibly along the floor as you went to the metal work table.
You looked at him expectantly, but still unsure of what the job really was.
But he didn’t hesitate in giving the obviously required information once you’d agreed to assist. “My helmet. It’s synced with a receiver on my ship. I can call for the ship with my voice. But my last bounty, they used an EMP while trying to evade me. I have everything back online except that function. I need it working before my next job.”
So he was a bounty hunter. Someone most would find despicable. They killed for money almost as often as assassins did. And again, his voice was so matter of fact. But even without knowing him you somehow felt that this was the most words he’d spoken to anyone in a while.
“And I assume that next job is tomorrow then?” You asked before you could help yourself. It was likely foolish for you to say anymore than necessary either. Who knew what could possibly set this dangerous sort of man off.
“In four hours.” He replied just as short.
Yet it was only then that you thought you noticed just the slightest hesitation in him. Because you saw his arms raise to remove his helmet for you to work on it, but his gloved hands stopped just before touching the metal. It was only for an instant maybe, but it was there.
In the next moment though he’d grabbed the helmet, sliding it off.
He could have been multiple species under there, you weren’t sure what you’d expected. But again, there was an odd moment where you felt he was anticipating some sort of reaction from you.
But his face was not one you recognized. He was just another man. Albeit with black hair, brown skin, and some bruising that told of him maybe having had to deal with more than just an EMP on that last bounty after all.
You took the helmet carefully as he handed it to you. Whatever weight you were expecting it to have, it seemed off, odd as you turned it over to look inside around where the microphone he spoke of should be imbedded.
“What alloy is this?” You asked. As it would matter for you to know how conductive and heat sensitive it was before you got to work.
“Beskar.” He said. The first time you’d heard his real voice from outside the slight digital modulation of the helmet.
But you tried not to show your surprise at the answer. You’d never touched beskar in your life. No wonder you hadn’t recognized it. It was so rare and very expensive.
And then, you felt rather dumb as the dots connected belatedly. You remembered some of the stories you’d heard as a child, of the Mandalorians, and their warrior legends of old. They were synonymous with that metal and the specialized armor made from it. But he couldn’t be one of them, could he? They were almost extinct you thought. At least no one talked about them anymore.
What if he’d killed one of them and just stolen their beskar though?
No, none of this concerned you now as your hands were already moving automatically with your tools. Even if this was a bit outside of your normal job description, technology was technology. There was nothing more advanced in this helmet than you’d find in any old astromech droid for instance that were also paired with the ships they served on.
You could tell he was watching your every move so closely though as you unhooked the tiny wires one at a time, testing each one’s connectivity.
Was he waiting for you to screw up? Or was he so untrusting that he thought even a no one like you could still be a threat to purposefully sabotage his equipment?
The discomfort of his stare made you feel as if you had to narrate your actions after another moment. “You see this wire? It looks intact but it must have been pinched.” You said as you shifted the little screen attached to your probe tool to show him the reading. “The resistance is too high compared to the other wires. The current can’t properly get through. That’s why it isn’t working.” But you added the obvious too. “You tried to fix it yourself didn’t you?”
He gave you an odd look. But he didn’t seem too insulted. “Being self sufficient is a requirement in my line of work.”
That sounded true enough. If he’d really been keeping up the systems in his own armor this long though, he’d done a fairly good job all things considered. By the inner wear alone where the helmet had been slid on and off against his face you could tell this armor was many years old.
“These tiny guys just take more specialized equipment to connect and disconnect is all.” You added, removing the pinched wire with one of your smallest tools. Though a very steady hand really helped as well.
While you cut a new piece of wire to size from one of the wire rolls out of a drawer, you felt his eyes following you again.
He spoke once more though, still watching. “You make these tasks sound simple. But the improvements in the droids haven’t gone unnoticed since you arrived.”
It was very odd to be complimented. Especially by someone like this. And you weren’t sure how you were expected to react as a bit of a nervous laugh left you. “Well my work is all I have.” That was more honest than you intended to be. But it was literally all there was left for you. Everything else had been taken away now.
As far as showing your talents though, the place you’d been before here hadn’t had but three droids in all. So you’d spent more time working on their moisture farming equipment than anything. And that didn’t garner as much attention for quality of skill you were sure.
Perhaps it had something to do with this bounty hunter being the only organic being you’d had any semblance of a conversation with in who knew how many weeks too. But you looked back at him then, adding, “Though it’s odd you know. No matter what happens, I just keep wanting to press on. And I want to help others where I can. So I do.”
He seemed to be considering that for a long moment, before answering you again unexpectedly, “Then you have a will stronger than most that I’ve seen wither and disappear in this place.”
Yet you shook your head without thinking. “No, if I was really strong, I…” But you stopped yourself abruptly there as your senses finally came back to you. This man was not a sympathetic ear. You had to remember that. He was a member of Jabba’s inner circle.
But the hunter was smarter than you’d wanted to believe as he still finished that sentence for you. “If you were really strong, you wouldn’t be here at all?”
The bit of fear that rose in you with this shift in tone made you work quicker then, finishing the attachment of the new wire. What if he thought you had plans to escape? “I didn’t mean it that way. You don’t need to punish me.”
“I’m not a guard.” He answered in a flat tone though, almost as if you had finally insulted him. “What you do or think of doing down here doesn’t concern me. But if you ran and they assigned me to bring you back, then that would be another matter.” He warned.
“Understood.” You answered reflexively, the room somehow feeling a little colder to you then. But you were already done with the wiring repair, handing his helmet back to him as you looked away towards the floor.
And it was quiet as he pulled the helmet back on over his face. He didn’t linger either, turning then to walk back up the stairwell.
But his voice still reached you thereafter, with a purposeful “Thank you.” through the helmet.
Those two words surprised you so much too, leaving you only looking up again to watch his back and the flow of his tattered cape as he walked up and out of sight.
————————————
For a while things went back to normal after that. Or at least what you were forced to endure as your normal within these walls. But you did notice that more expensive types of droids had started to filter in over time, though still mixed in with the usual palace droid inventory.
You spoke to them all, genuinely interested in their roles and their problems as always so you could better help repair or upgrade them. But it was also more than that of course. You knew too well that regardless of programming they all still had their own little quirks and ways about them. To you they were each just as alive and unique as anything organic.
And it was through those conversations that you found many of these newer high end droids belonged to the few wealthy families on Tatooine. Word had indeed spread of your attentions to detail in this workshop and they now wanted their droids serviced at Jabba’s palace as well.
With a sad type of humor you could only wonder what kind of exorbitant fees Jabba may be charging those elites for your services while you still didn’t even have the privacy of a closing lavatory door.
“Oh dear,” The female voiced protocol droid you’d been repairing leg hydraulics on startled as you glanced up from your kneeling position on the floor in front of her. She wasn’t reacting to anything you’d done to her leg however, but rather your abrupt company entering the room.
That pasty white Twi’lek you now knew as Bib Fortuna was descending the staircase towards you, accompanied by a fearsome looking entourage.
Your eyes darted warily from Fortuna to that armored bounty hunter you hadn’t seen since the night you’d repaired his helmet.
You were standing now, seeing that they had two Gamorrean guards alongside them as well.
For the briefest moment you thought of what little blunt force trauma you could inflict on any of them with the wrench still in your hand. But you knew it’d be a futile effort.
Though honestly, if you had to die, blaster fire from the bounty hunter would be far preferable in comparison to the rancor pit. You could sometimes hear the echoes of its victims’ screams even through the walls and ground. And those times made for the worst sleepless nights.
“(Y/N), loyal droid artisan to our excellency Lord Jabba,” Bib Fortuna began in his usual formal tone.
Your eyebrows raised at the string of superlatives, which seemed an odd way to announce an execution.
Yet he continued with even more, “Our merciful and gracious Lord Jabba, has approved your immediate change in living quarters as well as monetary investments to improve your workspace in order to further properly provide for our new clientele.”
You were only able to stare at Fortuna though as your brain struggled to comprehend this seemingly…positive announcement? But it had to be a trick somehow. There had to be a catch. There always was.
But Fortuna waved one arm, just signaling the Gamorreans to come forward. As they did so, one had a ring of keys in his thick fingered, green hand as he snorted at you to raise your leg and ankle chain towards him.
You did so awkwardly. You were still in disbelief as the loud sound of the rusty tumblers moving once the guard had inserted and turned the key came just before the much louder sound of your opened shackle falling to the floor.
You were still so amazed at this development then that you almost didn’t hear Bib Fortuna’s next words as he actually addressed the droid next.
“Droid, are you RQ-X7, formerly owned by magistrate Dennhar?”
“Yes! I mean…no!” She fretted. “My designation is RQ-X7 protocol droid, translation specialist. But Master Dennhar is my owner. Your use of the word formerly indicates your lack of understanding of the term. I will happily define it for you. Formerly. Adverb, definition: in the past, previously. So you see this does not apply in your sentence as used, I-”
Fortuna was clearly done here as he cut her off then and there. “You are formerly the droid of magistrate Dennhar. You have officially been removed from his ownership as a correction towards his debts still owed to our Lord Jabba. You are here and now reassigned as droid assistant to (Y/N). She is now your mistress until Jabba deems otherwise.”
Droids weren’t often silenced, but she and yourself sure were in that moment as the guards and Fortuna turned to leave back up the stairs once more.
But the bounty hunter did not move.
Fortuna kept talking as he passed him. “Boba Fett will escort you to your new quarters. Upgrades to your workshop will begin in the morning.”
Boba Fett? So that was his name. But why was he even a part of this?
The hunter clearly waited for the others to be fully out of the stairwell. Only then did he finally speak. No expression visible of course through that dark beskar helmet. “I told you that others were starting to take notice of your work. But consider this my payment for before.”
“Your…I don’t even understand. Did you do all this?” You asked incredulously. Surely a simple bounty hunter wouldn’t have that kind of pull around here. No matter how good he was at collecting that overgrown slug’s targets.
With one gloved finger he tapped the side of his helmet in response. “It actually responds even faster now. You did the work, so here is your payment.”
“That…that was a five minute job! Are you serious?” Was this guy mental? You’d gotten your chain removed, a new hopefully more private room yet to be seen, and an actual droid partner of your very own just for changing out a single wire in some killer’s dinged up headgear?
And he actually chuckled in response. It wasn’t loud or too emotional, but it was a bit of a laugh you’d never heard and that brought you to silence all over again.
“We don’t get paid just for what we do. We get paid for knowing the right way to do it. Now come on. Both of you.” He said decisively.
——————————
Though there had been some sort of bizarre thaw between you here, Boba Fett still wasn’t the most talkative person, that was clear. But he at least tolerated a few more of your additional questions born out of emotion.
You found out that he sometimes visited the cantinas in the nearby towns. Looking for leads on new bounties mostly. But it also gave him opportunity to hear of other chatter. He’d been the one to inform Jabba that word of the palace suddenly having the best local droid service had spread, gaining the interest of those with even more credits to spend.
But the richest snobs still wouldn’t associate good service with just an unkempt slave working on their droids. You had to now seem higher end as well to be worth their money, thus these changes in your environment.
And when conversations in the throne room had turned to needing to send the magistrate a bit of a message by having something with monetary value taken from him, it was also Fett who had suggested a droid be confiscated. Because by using it as a helper for you, your production output would also be increased.
Yes, somehow from the last time you’d seen Boba until now, he’d been weaving webs that not only benefited you, but benefited Jabba’s profits as well. Which is the only reason any of it actually succeeded.
It really was so unbelievable.
And the hunter watched now as you’d gawked at your new living quarters. Still those befitting only a servant of course. But with an actual bed. And a separate little lavatory with a sonic shower. No more sink and washcloth only bathing. All with working doors this time too.
“Thank you,” You were sure you’d already said so several times now. But no matter his own motivations, this was the most you’d ever had in so very long.
Boba was leaning in your doorway by then. He never said you’re welcome, but his voice was smooth as he spoke of something else on his mind. “Do you remember that first night, when Jabba interrupted the auction to cancel the bid on your head? Do you know what he said then?”
You paused, looking at him. No, you did not know. In fact you had almost buried that moment under a multitude of other past traumas before the hunter had yanked it back to the surface with that question.
Yet Fett continued. “He said ‘that girl looks like she wants to burn me alive with her eyes’.” And before you could fathom a response to that revelation, Boba finished with, “You looked at me that way as well as they pulled you from the throne room. You’ve surprised Jabba thus far. But you haven’t surprised me. Keep that fire. You’re going to need it.”
There was no goodbye, no goodnight said as he then stepped back out into the corridor. The automatic door slid shut behind him after, leaving you standing alone in your room.
Alone except for RQ-X7 who shuffled immediately to your side then, no doubt unsure of the look on your face. “My…my mistress. Are you alright?”
———————————
It took a little time to adjust to your newer surroundings in the coming days. Even your clothes were better now though as new laundered ones were left for you each day.
The improvements to the workshop had really increased your output as well. And it wasn’t lost on you that you were very much still only lining the pockets of your captors with the work that you did. But as far as imprisonments went, things could be far worse. You enjoyed meeting all the newest droids, and the work passed the time. It was cathartic in a way.
But in the back of your mind you still did have plenty of time to think about other issues as well. Like the things that still didn’t add up about that bounty hunter and why your thoughts kept going back to him at all. Was he really an enemy or the closest you had to anyone becoming an ally?
He chose to help in getting you a new room and getting the droid as your companion. But why would he stick his neck out for you at all in a place like this?
It just didn’t make any sense. You didn’t perceive an altruistic nature within him at all. Quite the opposite really. But there was no logic in repeatedly stressing over things you had no power in either.
And as time went on each new day came and went with little further excitement. That was until the night you closed up the workshop and walked up to your quarters to find an actual dress laid out on your bed.
“What is that?” You’d asked in astonishment. Even if your provided clothing had gotten better, it’d still stayed practical so you could do your work. Just different combinations of shirts, vests, pants, and boots.
RQ-X7 seemed curious as well, but answered immediately. “By all appearances, Mistress, it is a full length column silhouette dress in a lovely color. I do believe this is a design by House of Muhket actually.”
“You…what?” You stared at her. “How do you know any of that?”
“Oh,” She went on cheerfully, “Before I was confiscated by our Lord Jabba from Master Dennhar, and before I was sold to Master Dennhar, I worked in a dress shop for Mistress Ambilore. And before that as a restaurant hostess with Master Klee-shawn, and before that as a school teacher at-”
“Okay, okay,” You interrupted her gently. You’d already seen all the transaction numbers left behind in her data drives to speak for the myriad of times she’d been traded off through the years. That list could last all night. “RQ, I understand all that. But I don’t understand why anyone would leave this here.”
And a designer dress no less if RQ was to be believed, which she always was.
You sat on the bed, but hesitated still to reach out and feel the rich colored fabric of the dress. Faded memories flared back up at the sight of it. It was so like the kinds of things your mother would have worn, or your older sisters. Something maybe even you would have worn on a fluke some days, if you hadn’t been the weird one wanting to work with your hands all the time and get dirty.
You hadn’t been born a servant or a slave like this. You’d only become one after everything else was torn away.
A sudden knock at the door then startled you and RQ both.
But it was only another droid’s voice bidding entrance.
“Of course, come in.” You answered.
It was one of the maids. She was a bit chiding actually too as she chittered on, “You aren’t dressed yet? How slow you are in anything outside of mending us! Now come on, you will be late! No one can be late!”
“Late to what?” You retorted as she tried to shoo you off the bed.
“Lord Jabba’s annual tribute feast and reverence celebration! The Khetanna sail barge and caravan leave for town in thirty minutes! You aren’t even showered! I can still see the grease on you!”
“It’s lubricant actually,” You’d had to deal with a seized up rat catcher droid earlier. But this all sounded ridiculous. You were supposed to get dressed up now to go play sycophant with the others?
The maid buzzed in annoyance as realization hit her. “That good for nothing sweeper unit. He was supposed to clean all the stairwells down to the basement and give you a note with your instructions earlier. Clearly he did not!”
“Oh, RC-945?” You answered. “I found him upside down and deactivated in the stairway this afternoon. He won’t listen to me on needing a new battery port. But he keeps losing charge. I plugged him into the battery tender, but it will be awhile until he reboots.”
“Nevermind him!” She fumed. “Just get up! Get presentable! I’ll not be dismantled for not rounding everyone up properly! Attendance is mandatory!”
————————————
Yet you were still so resistant of course. Even being trapped behind the palace walls for so long, the idea of being equally trapped and forced to keep quiet and play along in some kind of farce like this was not really any better.
RQ noted that it was possibly Jabba’s clients who may have expressed interest in meeting you. But you were fairly sure that it was more about Jabba’s ego needing to be stroked, having need of everyone’s presence tonight to worship him this publicly.
You had properly bathed and the maid and RQ had helped you get into the dress and some matching shoes. The maid had still been dissatisfied with the end result though, hurrying away briefly to return with lip and eye makeup, as well as accentuating jewelry she thought suitable.
You’d held your tongue through the process, letting her paint you up and refusing to look at your own reflection. Tonight was only about playing along just enough so that none of you would be punished.
By the time you did follow the others out of the palace, the sands of Tatooine were dark and cold. Your dress was long sleeved thankfully, but with the shoulders cut out regardless. You could feel the tiniest bits of sand caught in the wind as you kept close to RQ while you moved with the crowd being loaded onto the sail barge from the palace.
You could already hear music. A band playing as you’d moved quickly out to one of the railings at first opportunity. A mixture of cleaned up palace staff and high spending gangsters mingled about on deck as you did your best not to engage in any of the conversations. You could see multiple colors of drinks already in their hands long before the barge actually started to move.
After a while it did start to lurch towards town though. But then another palace worker that you recognized, one who was normally part of the kitchen staff, came up to you in a flustered mess.
“(Y/N), can I borrow RQ-X7 please?” He about begged. “There was just a skirmish down below and two of my waiters are overboard through the windows somewhere in the sands. I’ve got plates of hot hors d'oeuvres still to get out, not to mention these drinks everyone keeps asking for. Please! I need another droid before Fortuna notices that the catering is already backed up!”
“I…well it’s really up to her,” You stammered a little, logically knowing you had to help him, but also somewhat terrified of being left alone yourself in this situation.
“At Master Klee-shawn’s restaurant, besides hostessing, I was also very well known for being able to carry four trays of the bantha tartare when needed.” RQ-X7 spoke proudly.
“Go on then,” You motioned with one hand, knowing that was the end of that. It was the moral thing to do though.
“Thank you! Thank you!” The kitchen worker bowed his head a little. “Enjoy the rest of the night! You look nice by the way!” He added before rushing away with RQ.
“Uh…thanks?” You mumbled. Then quite alone even with the party ramping up all around you.
———————————
Some time later you recognized the low lights and small domed buildings of Mos Espa in the distance as the barge came to rest near the city’s edge in the darkness.
And you’d just been thinking to yourself if you should go check on RQ after all, or at least head somewhere below deck to stay out of this cold when you saw movement out the corner of your eye.
“First time you’ve seen the sky in a while isn’t it?” That cool voice came from the familiar battle scarred helmet as the bounty hunter stepped up to the railing beside you.
Your chest tensed as you looked into that black eye shielding now staring right back at you. You would have said something about the silence in which he moved, but sneaking up on others was a lot of his everyday life wasn’t it?
“I’m surprised you even knew who I was with what they’ve done to me here.” You frowned, though glancing at him fully as well with him now so close. He was always in that same long sleeved white flightsuit, or survival suit maybe, that covered his body from his neck to his boots. With the banged up chest plate on top, his shoulder plates, gun belt, gloves, and gauntlets. And the little half cape with the tattered edges. And was that a jet pack he was sporting too tonight?
“Bounty hunters don’t have formal attire, huh? Just formal jet packs?” You added when he didn’t immediately respond.
But he answered your initial question first. “I recognized you because you stand and walk the same way no matter what you wear. Everyone does. Masks don’t faze me.” He said, looking right at your face still with those last words.
This took you aback a little more. Was your makeup the mask that he was referring to? Or was it something else he thought you were hiding? You weren’t sure what he meant, but again you couldn’t ignore why he kept taking the time to interact with you alone like this.
“And no. No other attire for me.” He responded to your jet pack quip then. “This armor only leaves my possession on the day that I die. It was my father’s before me. It’s part of our legacy.”
You were surprised there too as he’d never given a personal detail like that before. You weren’t even too sure if it was safe to acknowledge the comment before you finally asked though. “Is it Mandalorian made?” You wouldn’t ask if he really was one, or if they’d stolen it. But who else would craft with beskar alloy like that?
“It is.” He said just as plainly.
You stood there, letting that knowledge hang over you a moment. But you weren’t daring enough to probe his lineage any further tonight. “This planet collects a bit of everything doesn’t it?” You instead said quietly.
And maybe the two of you just would have stood there in mutual silence a while longer. This odd pull towards one another keeping you here, but neither of you open enough to go any further.
But a growing whine of engines erupted from somewhere high above, but distinct and closer by the second as you recognized and reacted immediately.
It was TIE fighters incoming.
They streaked across the sky as you stumbled back as if to run.
But you couldn’t take more than a single step before a vice like grip locked onto one of your wrists, and Fett moved just as instantaneously so your stomach was then pressed up to the railing and your back was against his chest.
“Stop it.” He hissed in your ear, his grip almost painful then as he grabbed your other arm as well to ensure control over you. “You show you’re that afraid and they’ll all assume where your allegiance really lies.”
Your heart was pounding, the shock of both the Empire’s fighters suddenly strafing the sky, as well as your realization of just how fast and strong the hunter really was now overwhelming you in this moment.
You were trembling to your own horror. But you couldn’t stop yourself, you didn’t know that the pain of your memories associated with those damned ships could still be this raw.
But Boba’s voice remained a growl in your ear as he kept you up against him. “Listen to me. I already know who you are. I know that your father was governor of New Mernoir on your homeworld. That your family was executed and your city destroyed because of the choices he made. I know all of it. But these people do not. Do you understand? Those ships aren’t here for you.”
You were blinking back tears as the TIE fighters made another pass overhead. But this time their flyover was accompanied by fireworks and cheering from all around.
They were celebrating. It was all for show. Of course the Empire was allied with Jabba. You knew that objectively. So they must be here to pay tribute to him as well. But you didn’t expect it, you weren’t ready.
“I won’t run again. Let me go, Boba.” You breathed after another long moment, trying to force yourself to relax even though you were still trembling.
Yet he did let go of your arms as soon as you’d asked him to, but he didn’t move out from behind you, your back still supported against him. “The imperial cruiser wasn’t supposed to arrive in orbit until at least tomorrow.” He spoke lowly then, enough so that only you could hear him in the continued noise of the party. “I didn’t know the Empire would be here tonight either.”
But that was all insignificant now wasn’t it? So why was he even talking about their schedule? The real damage was in everything he’d just admitted to you moments before. He knew who you were. Was this the end then? Was your running over at last?
“Why…” You had to ask after another long hesitation. That wetness was still threatening your eyes even as more fireworks continued, the bright colors popping and casting shadows on you both. “Why, if you knew who I was this whole time, why haven’t you turned me in yet? You’re with the Empire too aren’t you?”
“I’m not with anyone.” He corrected you with a little harshness, as if the placement of his own loyalties was a personal sticking point. “But I work for those who can afford me. And there’s no bounty on rebels thought already dead.” He just continued, cold but truthful. But what he asked next, you could tell by the even more serious shift in his tone that he was warning you to not even think about lying to him.
For the first time, you imagined this was the real voice that all those bounties heard. Maybe the last voice they ever heard as he asked you in that new tone. “But are you still one of them?”
The contrast was so stark. The people mulling all around you, drinking and laughing, oblivious to your heartbeat pounding in your ears as your cold hands now gripped the railing in front of you even as your back still rest against the hunter’s chest.
“I never was,” Your words left you in a hushed tone, tears finally starting down your face with these cowardly things you’d never gotten to admit to anyone. You were never one of the rebels. “And I hated him for so long for choosing that life for us.” You kept on, unable to stop then. “My father convinced everyone else that it was the right thing to do. He put our own money into that base. The base that our city got destroyed because of. Children and everyone else burned to the ground because of him.”
You were born into a noble family, daughter of an influential governor living on a sprawling estate with your mother and all your older sisters. Publicly, your family and the wealthy city they governed all pledged yourselves to the Empire. You remembered imperial officers, Moffs, and sometimes even admirals strolling through your home during their visits.
But beneath that proud surface, your father kept saying that the Empire had taken too much, that they were harming too many. Only then had you started to know fear. Not understanding why he would endanger all of you for principles alone and to supposedly protect others you would never even meet on other worlds.
The rebel base he’d been at the forefront of the creation of, was a den of spies and a staging place for their equipment and the ships they had started to build. All hidden within your city.
“But…” Even with all that anger you’d had towards him, when the nightmare finally came true you would have done anything to have saved any of them. “I wasn’t there when they needed me.” You were already an apprentice by then, under a brilliant woman that your father was a patron to.
She’d taught you your trade, everything you knew about droids. You’d pestered her from childhood until she’d taken you on. Everyone thought you so odd for that too. On your name alone you could have just kicked up your feet, been some other politician’s wife when you were ready and never had to work a day.
But by chance, that hobby of yours was the only way you’d lived. “I wasn’t home when the soldiers came.” You chuckled to Boba in kind of a mixed sound of disgust and regret. “I was out buying parts for the droid maker that I apprenticed for. I was out goofing off while they were lining my family up and shooting them.” The Empire had been sure to release news of the traitors and their swift executions to all media afterward. The subsequent bombing of the city was then blamed on the Rebel Alliance as well.
But you’d been there on the ground. There was no resistance, only slaughter. The x-wings the rebels had been making weren’t even operational yet. The only thing in the air that day had been the TIE fighters and bombers.
And you’d seen up close and personal what their laser fire did to buildings and bodies. You’d run, badly injured yourself, but far enough on the edge of the city to escape to the wetlands unlike so many others. You’d laid for hours concealed in the cold mud, pretending to be dead as you heard the ships pass again and again striking anything that still moved.
“They died for something they believed in. All I ever did was run away and never look back.” You confessed with that self loathing evident in your tone. “That’s all there is to tell.”
But Boba Fett still wasn’t someone you could fully predict. When you’d said all your peace and the silence loomed between you again, he shifted once more. No longer behind you then, but beside you as his helmet tilted to look you in the face once more.
“My father was killed right in front of me when I was a boy.” He said in a solemn tone. “And it still made no difference for me to be there. Because all I could do was watch his body fall. So believe this from someone who knows, no amount of guilt will do anything to help them now. You’re better off to let go before it eats what’s left of you.”
Your eyes widened at his own confession. Maybe not even at the cruelty of the image though, to imagine a boy having to experience that. Because what violence could really surprise you anymore? It was all anyone seemed capable of. The Empire, the rebels, the syndicates, pirates, smugglers….it was just pure survival in this galaxy. Predators and prey in a vicious cycle.
Would it really be so wrong to not even care anymore? To just live for the sake of living? You could ask him later how he’d found out about you. It was unimportant really, trivial compared to all else you were now feeling.
“I guess we have more in common than we should then,” You said, trying to wipe what was left of your tears away. “I’m sorry, Boba.”
“It was a long time ago.” He answered plainly, in a way that also seemed to close that subject again for now.
After another bit of silence where you continued to gather yourself, you finally sighed, asking him softly. “So do you want to get a drink with me then? Something really strong preferably?” You weren’t afraid of him anymore after this. He already knew what you were and he could do with that what he wished. You had nothing else to hide.
You were also choosing to not care right now and there was something so freeing about that thought.
“It’d be less crowded in one of the cantinas.” He answered though, still watching you carefully.
You smirked at him. “Then are you giving me permission for some shore leave?”
“If you’re with me, it’ll be fine.” He said calmly, only giving a good glance around, assessing the surroundings, before moving away from the railing to have you follow him.
——————————
Of course he knew all the entrances and exits to the sail barge by heart. In only a few minutes you were standing on the sands of Tatooine again. Albeit this time with the bounty hunter Boba Fett striding at your side.
Your shoes weren’t as practical as his boots, your feet sinking into the sand at times.
“I’d go barefoot if I didn’t have a pretty good idea of the kinds of waste they dumped out here.” You mumbled.
But after he had to slow yet again as softer sand tried to twist your shoes right off your feet, he offered you his hand.
When you looked ahead to see Boba’s outstretched glove, this armored hired gun silhouetted in the starlight as he waited for you, something unexpected happened.
You actually smiled. This was crazy, but it was exactly what you needed right now. “You know what…on second thought, you were right when you said this was the first time I’d seen the sky since they brought me to the palace. But it’s also the first time I’ve really gotten to use my legs since then too. What’s a little dirty sand in the scheme of things?”
Your dress had a slit up either side. It allowed you this movement as you did take off your shoes then, holding them both by their straps in one hand before breaking into a run across the small dunes. “Come on, hunter!”
“What are you-” Boba’s surprise was obvious.
It would have been hilarious really if you weren’t so focused on still not busting your ass as you ran for the buildings in the distance.
You used to race your sisters through the courtyards at home all the time. It’d been a whole other world then, a whole other life.
You wanted to feel that rush again, if even for just a moment as you ran as hard and fast as your out of practice body would allow. You never looked back for Boba, there was no question to you that he’d come.
But by the time you reached the beginnings of the real streets of Mos Espa and all those little beige colored buildings, you were panting and trying to catch your breath as a cramp threatened to overtake your side.
Yet you were still smiling, panting and smiling as you straightened back up at the sound of small jets overhead before Boba landed in front of you.
“Jetpack is cheating,” You half laughed, half coughed, taking another deep breath.
“Was all that really necessary?” He sort of deadpanned.
“It could be months again before I get to see the outside. Have a heart, hunter.” You smirked, still breathing a bit hard as you brushed the sand off your feet before sliding your shoes back on.
He shook his head, clearly unamused. But he still waited for you before walking on. “If you’re done, I’ll show you where you can get that drink you wanted.”
——————————
This bar was called the Sanctuary. He mentioned it was newer, somewhat more high end, relatively at least in comparison to some of the others.
Which maybe would have been flattering that he tried to take you somewhere a little safer, a little cleaner before you realized every single patron was still staring up at you as the the two of you entered together.
Well, more accurately they were all staring at Boba as you just followed him to an open table in a corner. You also noticed how he clearly chose to sit with his back to the wall, facing the rest of the cantina for a good vantage point as you slid onto the curved seat beside him.
After a few moments everyone else seemed to go back to their own eating, drinking, and gambling at some game tables in the center of the room. But the chatter was noticeably still a bit lower, down from the rowdier volume it’d been right at your arrival.
But Boba didn’t seem to care, and you looked back to him as he spoke to you. “Are you hungry?”
You were actually. But was that okay? Was this okay? How long before he had to take you back to the palace? “I am.” You admitted. “But do we have time to eat?”
“The barge won’t move again until dawn. And maybe not even then depending on how drunk they all get. Order whatever you want.” Boba responded.
Yet you saw his helmet turn at the approach of a rather elegant looking female Twi’lek.
You caught yourself staring at her, her expensive dress and jewelry such a contrast to the slave girls and their revealing little outfits Jabba forced them to parade around in at the palace.
“Boba, my dear bounty hunting friend,” She spoke so cleanly as she came up to your table. Her hands were clasped together as she smiled warmly. “As happy as I always am to have the patronage of Jabba’s inner circle, you know we don’t normally see you here at the Sanctuary. So I have to ask you one thing. Are you here for anyone in particular tonight?”
Even if the room hadn’t gone fully silent again, you could tell all eyes were on your table once more.
“I’m not working tonight, Fwip.” Boba’s voice was a little deeper, a little more guarded with her you noticed in comparison to how he’d been speaking to you moments before. “My friend wants something to eat. Any problem with that?”
The Twi’lek didn’t miss a beat though, her smile really growing then as she announced immediately for the room, “He isn’t working tonight! Everyone carry on!”
There was almost an audible cheer through the cantina, everyone going back to their festivities then.
But she still gave him a look afterward, putting a hand on her hip as she spoke lower. “Thank you, Boba. You know how much less money they spend once they get rattled. Enjoy your night. Happy to see you relaxing for once too. It’s a good look. After all, we are the most romantic cantina on Tatooine you know.” She grinned to herself at that. “Self proclaimed of course. But who’s going to go on a date at the Mos Eisley one right? They don’t even wash their glasses you know.”
She clapped her hands to get the attention of the wait staff then. “Some drinks and a menu for the best bounty hunter in the Outer Rim and his lovely lady friend please!”
You waited until she’d fully walked away before you dared laugh a little. “So I can’t tell if you’re pissed or not behind that helmet, but I’m having a great time.”
“You’re too easily amused,” He grumbled after a moment.
“It’s a coping mechanism that’s carried me far.” You happily agreed.
———————————
From as low as you’d felt earlier with the shock of those TIE fighters screaming overhead, was about as relaxed as you felt now. Obviously the alcohol helped, but you really hadn’t had too much.
Boba was still scanning the room periodically, keeping watch as you enjoyed the last of your bantha steak.
He didn’t eat or drink much, sitting with his legs spread and only occasionally lifting his helmet just enough to take a swig from his glass or have a taste of your steak after you’d absolutely insisted because the marinade on it was just that good.
“Do any of them know what you really look like under there?” The alcohol did finally embolden you enough to ask before you took another drink.
“Not in this town, no.” He answered simply. “But it’s a little more complicated than would probably make sense right now.”
“But you showed me your face.” You responded, just looking at him with a soft interest. “How was that different?”
“You’re too young to remember the clone wars very well aren’t you?” You noticed his voice had gotten a little quieter again.
“I can’t be that much younger than you.” You defended.
“Maybe. But I know you still don’t remember them well, or else you’d know why it mattered. Let’s just say many now working for the Empire remember those times very well. And that’s why it’s better for business that I keep my helmet on when in public. At least until all those old ranks are finally dead.”
It’d be too hypocritical for you of all people not to understand the benefits of anonymity. And you decided this wasn’t worth asking any further about right now as you focused on finishing your drink instead. But an abrupt curse had you immediately back at attention.
“Dank farrik, it’s that idiot.” Boba growled while staring towards the door.
Of course, sheer instinct had you turning your head to look as well. But you weren’t sure which ‘idiot’ he was talking about as you saw a tall man stride in with an even taller Wookie beside him.
The strangers seemed to be heading straight for the gambling tables, but you saw the man stop dead in his tracks the moment he happened to glance towards your table.
Boba’s hand moved slightly under the table as well in reaction. No one would have noticed except for you, being right beside him as he unholstered his pistol to hold it against his thigh.
Well shit. You were stressed all over again now. You didn’t know what was about to happen, but you were sure you wanted no part of it.
Both the man and the Wookie were walking towards you though, once the man had thumped the Wookie on the arm and pointed your way.
“Boba,” You whispered, wanting some kind of instruction here.
“You’ll be fine.” He said before they were in earshot. But you could tell he was indeed back in ‘working’ mode now.
“Boba! Buddy old pal!” The man shocked you, being obnoxiously loud really as he opened his arms in greeting. But you thought he was also very much trying to broadcast the lack of weapons in his own hands at that moment. Yet you easily saw the large pistol on his gunbelt as well. “Didn’t expect to see you here!” He continued with a grin that seemed wholly fake to you. “In fact it’s most of the reason we hit up Mos Espa instead of Mos Eisley tonight!”
But he finally lowered his voice a little as he went on more privately. “Of course me and Chewie knew the deeper pockets are always in Mos Espa too. Didn’t want to miss Jabba’s party and clearing the tables a little easier once the alcohol had been flowing awhile am I right?”
“Jabba told you not to return to Tatooine until you’d made his money back, Solo.” Boba warned, and honestly his voice sounded like daggers of ice. It was bone chilling.
Yet that blunt hostility seemed to sail right over the stranger’s head. “See that’s the thing, the Empire’s been setting up new blockades all around the system. I need a little more time to find the backdoors. But the Falcon’s going to get us there, as soon as we get a little money going for a new shield generator anyway. Lost another one scuffling with some pirates outside of Bespin last week. Lando’s really letting the airspace around there go to pot.”
“The Falcon is trash. Maybe you’d be better off moisture farming for the next fifty years to pay off all your other failed promises, smuggler.” Boba cut back.
You didn’t know what kind of ship the Falcon might be. But Boba’s comment was seemingly equivalent to insulting their mother or child as the Wookie immediately growled and moved as if to yank the table away from you both.
But it was the stranger that jumped in between as you saw Boba holding his pistol aimed at the Wookie’s chest then from under the table.
“Chewie! Come on, just a little ribbing between friends! That’s all it is.” The man laughed forcefully. But you heard him berate the Wookie even more in a lower tone, “If Fwip throws us out we aren’t making any money tonight! Think Chewie, think! We already struck out at the last stop. You wanna be the one to tell Jabba we can’t make any kind of payment this month!?”
The Wookie was still obviously not okay with any of this. But somehow he did seem to restrain himself the more the man talked him down.
Solo then looked slightly relieved as he looked back to Boba. “I will get Jabba’s money back. But uh, it might be better if you didn’t tell him I was here just yet. I seriously didn’t think you’d leave guard duty on the barge tonight. Didn’t know you had a social life, Fett.”
With that, this bizarre man offered a flirty smile to you, and an open hand as if to shake yours. “Han Solo by the way. Professional smuggler, best pilot in the galaxy, and captain of the Millennium Falcon. The hairy guy here is my brother from another and co-pilot, Chewbacca.”
You looked at Han’s hand with suspicion and then back up at his face as he transitioned to a little smirk instead while he glanced back to Boba. “She’s actually loyal to you, huh? Nothing wrong with that. That’s rare these days, you know. Well good for you, Fett.” But Han kept rambling as he continued to the Wookie. “And to think he can get a date without even showing his face. Women love mystery and fixer uppers I guess, yeah?”
Boba stood up then. And Solo instantly tensed as you saw the smuggler’s hand drop to his gun belt just as quick. The Wookie was growling again and Boba still had his hand on his own pistol though it was currently aimed at the ground.
“Boys…” You heard the Twi’lek they’d both called Fwip clear her throat and you realized the music had completely stopped. “Why don’t we agree to disagree for the sake of the holiday? Han darling, and Chewbacca, you’re as welcome as anyone for a try at our table games. But Boba was also minding his own business before you arrived. Let him pay his tab so he can be on his way to enjoy the rest of his night.”
Yet she addressed Boba as well, all too aware that all three of them were crucial in either having this be done or blow up entirely. “And Boba, we all appreciate your restraint tonight. There’s a reason you’re one of Jabba’s favorites. Deadly, but not a loose cannon. You kept your word that you weren’t working tonight and for that I thank you greatly.”
There was one more long moment of tension after she had finished speaking. But Han was the first to back away, raising his hands again but never taking his eyes off Boba as Han and Chewbacca then both backed away to the gambling tables at last.
Fwip approached you then as Boba holstered his pistol to reach into his belt pockets with his other hand for some credits that he then handed to her.
She smiled at you both with a nod as you stood. You could tell Boba never took his full attention off Han and Chewbacca though even as one of his arms went lightly behind your waist to guide you out. He still kept his other hand free to reach his gun if needed.
It was a long walk to the door, but you eventually reached it. Boba kept his body between you and the perceived threat the entire time, until you were at last back out on the street.
You were both heading back towards the dunes after, and there was silence for a little while before you were the first one to speak again.
“Hey, I obviously don’t know the backstory on that guy and the Wookie. But forget it.” Things had been oddly nice before they’d shown up. And you had every day after this to go back to your room and your workshop in the palace alone. You didn’t want to end this night on that note.
“Solo’s only skills are lying and running.” Boba muttered though, clearly still agitated. “And he’s not even smart enough to get out of his own way. It’s inevitable that Jabba’s going to decide to cut those losses off, and it’ll be me that has to do it.”
Okay, what part of forget the smuggler and his Wookie for at least right now was not translating here?
“Boba.” You said, stopping on one of the dunes now that you were far enough from the streets, but not yet in good view of the sail barge. “I don’t know when I’ll ever see the outside again. So I want to thank you for all of this, really. I didn’t expect that I’d even know how to have fun anymore.”
“Yeah.” He responded a bit reflexively, but it was like you were finally pulling him back from his anger and distraction over the whole scene in the cantina.
It was as if he just remembered the two of you were out alone here as well as he looked around. “We really shouldn’t stop though. There’s still the wildlife or even the Tuskens. All this activity could draw them in to defend their territory.”
“And then you could just jetpack us away,” You contended quietly. But in all reality he was right that it wasn’t safe out here alone. Yet you wanted a more personal goodbye. Once you got back to the barge, you’d need to go check on RQ-X7 you knew. And then he’d disappear and everything would likely just go back to normal.
You were looking at him rather intently as those thoughts ran through your mind. And you decided to take the risk. You really didn’t have anything to lose. “Can I at least tell you goodnight with your helmet off for a moment?” You’d only ever seen his entire face that one time before. And honestly you hadn’t memorized it very w
Ok @leslieglewis I’m a little nervous here posing for this pic because I’m pretty sure that the gourd behind me might actually give me a wart of some sort or maybe even eat me. I don’t even want to turn around and see it. I’m going to slowly back up towards the hay but you need to tell me if I get too close to the pumpkin version of Jabba The Hut.
Can’t wait for @thebookofbobafett to come out, if it’s as good as @themandalorian it will be amazing. I was obsessed with Boba Fett as a kid I drew him on my high school art folder and I think for my art exam too lol Who else read Tales from Jabbas Palace to learn more about him? I spent the weekend working on this, I might update it once I know who’s going to be in it!
