Chapter Text
Boba didn't actually see the statue at first.
He moved into Jaba's old palace. That was step one. Step two was throwing out or shooting anyone who wasn't willing to deal with him among the staff. That took longer than he'd predicted. Half of them were slaves. They either didn't care who owned them or hated any master on general principal, sometimes both. Often both. Others swore to him, then disappeared in the night or tried to kill him in his bacta tank. So far none of them had succeeded, but that didn't stop the rest of them from trying.
The housecleaning and internal reorganizing took four days, so it wasn't until the fifth day, when he and Fennec ventured out in the morning to start surveying the rest of his new holdings that he saw the monument.
The statue stood on an overturned cart that had been there long enough to sink into the hard packed dirt of the square. At a glance, the figure was human, female, larger than life and shapely. The statue had been made out of scrap metal and spare bits of fabric. Shards of bright blue pottery took the place of eyes. A braid of fabric and batha hair formed a long braid down the woman's back. Wires had been carefully twisted to form a raised fist, from which a length of broken chain hung in a declaration of defiance.
Boba mostly recognized the figure because of the brass bikini it was wearing.
Boba stopped, letting the metrics in his helmet pan over the statue. Beside him Fennec stepped to one side so she could watch their back. Her own helmet was under one arm so Boba was able to catch the raised eyebrow and quiet smile she let slip.
"What? Bikinis not to your taste?"
Boba hummed. 8D8 the palace droid who had been showing them the way, stopped and dipped into a small bow.
"Ah, yes. That is a tribute to Leia the huttslayer. It was erected by the local rabble. Bib Fortuna ordered it removed several times, but it was replaced. You need not worry. I will have a group of slaves sent to cart it away and smelt it down as soon as we return to the palace."
Boba spent a moment to look at the droid before returning his gaze to the statue. "No need." In his opinion sending slaves to destroy something that symbolized freedom from one of their greatest oppressors' was a torture in itself. Besides... "I was there. It was an impressive act." He hadn't really seen it. He'd already been falling by that point, but he'd seen enough of Leia Organa-Solo to respect her.
8B8 seemed confused, or maybe it was trying to compute an answer that wouldn't get it scrapped. "Sir?" It ended up asking."
By then they were being watched. Not in a bad way. Boba's instincts weren't screaming at him yet. Most of the locals still didn't recognize him on sight. That would change. Still, there was no one else standing in the middle of the crossroad, openly looking at a work of art that was formerly forbidden.
He casually scanned the area, taking note of the people nearby. An old man was buffing rust off a bit of scrap metal. A Weakway woman was looking after two small children, with another looking over her shoulder from a pack. An R2 unit hooked up to a hover cart was being led by a pair of jawas. A trandosian was counting out boxes and comparing the contents to a tablet. Others watched him as they made their way into or out of town. Moisture farmers on Eopies. Slaves running errands. They had enough of a crowd that news of anything he did or said would travel.
Boba raised his voice, not enough to shout, but enough so that he could easily be heard. "Let it stand. And let it be known that anyone who tries to dismantle it will answer to me."
The droid shifted, gears whirring in the heat.
"Problem?" Fennec asked.
"Ah, no ma'am," The droid processed things for a moment longer, then dipped again. "Would you like to continue?"
"Yes, lead on," Boba said. He waved a hand, his mind already on the next issue, and the problems he would face trying to pull together this unruly population.
He would remember that day in the years to come and marvel at the oddity of the galaxy.
<><><>
Boba removed his helmet as they entered the cantina. It was the end of the day and the end of their circuit. His armor's internal cooling was starting to fail and his injuries' were starting to ache. He needed another bacta treatment, but not yet. First a drink.
"No we're not here for drinks. We have business with Garsa Fwip," Fennec said, when a droid greeted them. It was true, but there was also a steel in her tone that drew his attention. Had she seen something he hadn't?
"It looks like business is good," Boba commented, using that as an excuse to scan the area. The crowd at the nearest gaming table was cheering over a win. Service slaves and working girls, leaned in to praise the winner. A group of off world investors in red robes leaned over a table. The band lifted their instruments in the climax of a modern jizz adaptation to a classic song, something Boba could almost place.
A pair of Twi'leks, male and female, green and yellow, wearing nothing but loin wraps and a metal chest piece for the female approached.
"Would you like your helmets serviced and cleaned while you wait for Madam Garsa?" The male Twi'lek asked. His voice what to the point but the way he dropped his eyes made it clear that wasn't the only thing they were offering.
"No," Fennec answered almost before he got the question out. She was still scanning the room for threats. Boba didn't see anything and in this instance he was inclined to trust his instincts. They had been to far more dangerous places today. If they were going to be attacked, the middle of a crowded cantina wasn't the place for it.
"Sure. Here, take both of ours." What state he got the helmet back in would tell him what kind of business arrangement Madam Garsa wanted. The two Twi'leks nodded and offered up willing smiles as they slipped away.
Then the Madam approached with open arms. "Welcome to the Sanctuary," She said, guesting to the whole of the cantina as if to a work of art or a fine performance. "Would you care to partake of our sundry offerings?" She glanced between them, and her tone shifted from hostess to a woman who was sizing up a customer. Her Leku curled over her shoulders, distracting the eye down to her modest but finely decorated cleavage.
"Another time. I'm here to talk business."
Her Leku slid to her back at his words and she nodded, her posture changing to something less overtly enticing, more straightforward, at least at a glance. "Ah, then business it is. And who might I have the honor of doing business with?"
"I am Boba Fett, and this is Master assassin Fennec Shand. I have replaced Bib Fortuna."
Garsa leaned back, her hands coming up in front of her, fingertips just touching. "Apologies I didn't see your litter."
"I wasn't carried on a litter. I walk on my own two feet." He looked her in the eye. Start off as you mean to go on.
The madam nodded, "Of course. Well I expect you'd like to see the books. Our little paradise may not be much compared to other worlds but I assure you we do good business for Tattooine." Her flirtations' attitude was back. She leaned in, resting a hand on his arm. "There is also the matter of policy. I understand that things can be strained when power changes hands and I wouldn't want to serve someone you had cast out for instance." This time her gesture was smaller but just as graceful.
Boba hesitated. He hadn't planned to strongarm her but she had a point. many of Bib Fortuna's policies were going to be thrown out on the heap and as a local business leader the Madam could enforce those changes faster and more effectively than he could from the castle.
Fennec was waiting for his choice, eyes still scanning the room at intervals.
"Very well. Lead on."
Madam Garsa led them to a back room, whispering to her two Twi'lek companions along the way. The room had several chairs built for the comforts of several different species. and a central desk made of wood - a rarity on a desert planet. Garsa let them choose their seats and a moment latter her companions briefly joined them. One of them brought in a jug of water cold enough that condensation was rolling down the sides, the other offered a tray of glasses, and a sealed bottle of something stronger.
"Guard the door," Boba instructed the Gamorians. Then the door was closed and the battlefield stretched before him.
Boba had discussed and negotiated his own contracts since he was younger than most children knew what contracts were. He was not going to underestimate the woman across from him. She was a professional and this was her field.
He sat straight and laid out an offer of friendship with his opening gambit. "I want to assure you that your business will continue to thrive under my watchful eye."
Garsa leaned forward over the table, her leku curling, "That is a relief to hear. I'm sure we can work together to our mutual benefit. Of course there are just a few details that I'd like to sort out here at the start to make sure that relationship goes as smoothly as possible."
And there was the opening salvo. Fennec grabbed the sealed bottle and leaned back in her chair, clearly yielding the floor to him.
Boba studied Madam Garsa, the elegance with witch she held herself, even here at the ass end of the galaxy. She had a strength in her. The strength of a willow tree, able to bend without breaking at the core.
"Ask, I will answer as I may." No promises, not while there were cards left to be played.
Garsa pursed her lips, choosing her words with care. "Over the past few days word has come out of the palace that paints an... interesting picture." She leaned in and put a hand on his arm again, speaking in a low confiding tone. "Is it true you fed Bib Fortuna to his own rancor?"
"He was already dead when I threw him in that pit, and the rancor was gone. Sold off I assume. So no." Boba settled back in his seat, taking his arm out of her reach. "Is that all you are interested in? The fate of the dead?"
Garsa straightened her Leku in a gesture that might have been offence. "Lord Fett. How you go about dispatching your enemies can deliver all kinds of messages to the right people, and I as the local Matron will be expected to tell the story in as much or as little detail as is known to anyone. How am I supposed to spread word of your might conquest if all I have is hearsay and rumor."
Boba shook his head, "Fortuna was no conquest. He was just a parasite who crawled out of Jaba's shadow. And everyone knows who killed the Hutt."
"Yes. They call her Leia the hutt slayer. Though who knows the truth really. Why would a rebellion General come all the way out here, take out a major player on a back water planet and then not stake her claim. But people will believe what they want. You've seen the statue I'm sure. You know half the people, half the people in the lower districts, serfs and slaves and such are still spreading stories about how she's going to come out of the desert and free them all. Give water to the masses and all that."
She was watching him again, or rather she had never stopped but now there was a point to it. Fennec shifted in her seat, making her presence known and letting her hand drift closer to the blade she had strapped to her thigh. No. They didn't need threats here. They needed to win Garsa over and clearly she was fishing for some kind of information.
"It was Leia Organa. I was there. In fact she stayed with me while she was on planet."
"Ah, I had no idea you were so close."
"Intimately close." True it had only been one night and he hadn't actually known who she was at the time but Garsa didn't know that. "If she does decide to return, I'm the one she will find here. I'm the one who will show her a prosperous world, grateful for the freedom she provided."
Madam Garsa nodded slowly. "I see. Well... I'm will gladly confirm that story to my patrons, assuming you don't want it kept secret?" She was still slightly tense, but her Leku were curling again, showing some emotion he couldn't read.
"No. Tell anyone you like." She seemed pleased with that. Good. Hopefully they cold move on to the real business of the night. "Now, how much tribute were you sending to Jaba?"
She retrieved a small datapad and listed a number that was likely far below what she had paid to the others. He wasn't offended, that was just good business. Still, it did take the rest of the night to haggle for a proper tribute, and for the knowledge of her spy network - which she absolutely denied having.
Boba's bones were aching when he finally stepped into the night. He stopped to take a breath of the clear night air. That was the only reason he happed to spot movement on the rooftop.
"Fennec?"
She paused, then slid her helmet over her head. "Could be nothing."
"There was plenty of time for our location to spread." With one hand Boba drew a bag from his belt and started tipping the coins Madam Garsa's aid had filled his helmet with, into it. He never took his eyes off the buildings. "Can you tell how many?"
"Two groups. Maybe three per group. Maybe more in the buildings." Fennec wasn't using her external speakers. No one more that a few feet away would be able to hear her.
Boba didn't like it but... He wasn't in any condition for this fight. He already needed to get back to his bacta tank. Outnumbered as they were... "This is not a smart fight."
Fennec tipped her head in his direction. "Go. I'll see what I can learn."
"You'll be alright on your own?"
"Better than with you slowing me down, old man." He could hear the tease in her voice.
Boba scanned the rooftops again. "Alright. I'll see you back at the fortress." A flick of his wrist activated his jet pack and soon he was in the cold, air of a desert night. As much as his body complained, it was still a beautiful sight to end his day.
<><><>
Boba turned the Melurun over in his hands, slicing off bits as he watched the second sun lift off the horizon from one of the sniper's nests on the upper floors. For all that Jaba had terrible taste in nearly everything he had at least be practical when it came to his defenses.
He'd dreamt of the desert again. Of the sand people. The first people to take him in and treat him as one of their own in... He couldn't count the years. Bounty hunters generally had a code, guild hunters especially. Non-guild hunters didn't lest all that long. But the comradery he'd felt there was always edged. The Mandalorian weren't any different. When he'd been young, he hadn't been one of them because of how he'd been born, and now... Now there weren't enough Mandalorians left to form a real community.
Tattooine wasn't what he might have chosen, but these deserts were his now, and he would do right by these people.
"So this is where you were," Fennec climbed the last of the steps, coming to lean against a balustrade just out of arms reach.
"Good morning. I expected you to still be in bed." Boba cared off a piece of fruit and offered it to her on the tip of his blade.
"Haven't made it there yet." She took the fruit, looked it over then started chewing on one end. "I've got news."
Boba turned to mirror her leaning against his own pillar. She wouldn't have come to find him if it wasn't important. HE crosses his arms and waits.
"I was able to get ahold of one of the men from last night. He's in the basement." She swallowed the last bit of fruit, licking a bit of juice off her fingers.
"Dangerous?" She wasn't acting like it had been difficult, but that didn't mean it had been easy. She was a master of her craft after all.
"Marginally. But I actually wanted to talk to you about something I heard on the way back."
Boba waved her on.
"Apparently word has spread that you're here as the hand of the huttslayer." She lifted an eyebrow inviting his reaction.
Boba frowned, giving that some thought. "Madam Garsa?"
"One can only assume. I tried to tell you she'd be trouble."
Boba turned his gaze back to the desert and the city spread out below the rim of the canyon.
"Perhaps," Bob considered things for a minute longer. "The hand of the huttslayer... Those were the exact words?"
"That was the gist of it. There were a couple of versions. Some said you were here to bring Tattooine into the republic. Some said Leia Organa herself had sent you here. Word is, you've been working for the rebellion since you disappeared, and no one knew about it because Leia wanted it kept quiet."
"Well, could be worse I suppose. I'd much rather be an agent of the Republic than someone else..."
Fennec turned to face him. in the morning light he could see the start of circles under her eyes. The exhaustion she was keeping at bay.
"That's it?" She waited until he met her eyes. "I didn't join you to be some unwitting puppet. I may owe you but not enough to tie myself to some--" She showed her teeth, "Burecratic circus."
Boba gave her a minute to breath. "You're not. Like before you are free to go whenever like. Whenever this life does not suit you. But this, ruling a people will not be glorious battles and cheering public. That would be true weather the Republic was involved or not."
It was her turn to think. "Do you really know her? Was that story about the sand people all pudu or what?"
Boba sliced off another piece of fruit, stuck it in the corner of his mouth then started on a slice for her. His voice came out muffled but understandable. "A little of both. I did know her but she was using another name. I also considered hunting her at one time. I did my homework. If it comes down to it I can claim loyalty to her as a warrior, not the republic as a whole."
"I'll admit, that bounty was an attractive one. Only one higher that I can remember is the one on the Skywalker kid." she took the slice of fruit when he offered it.
"For now, I can shape the laws here so that the Republic will not be offended. The lower classes will appreciate that, and a leader must always take the will of the people into account. I was not planning on supporting the slavers in any case. Once you have been a slave you can never forgive that kind of man."
Fennec glanced at him then away. "I didn't know you had been a slave."
Boba nodded and hummed. "In any case. The republic is one front I'd rather not pick a fight with. The Pikes and the Hutts will already be preparing to settle things. That's enough enemies for me."
"At least for the moment," she agreed. "She swallowed the last of her fruit, took a breath and yawned. "Well, I'm off to bed. Do me a favor and don't declare any more alliances before I wake up huh?"
He didn't try to stop the smile, "no promises."
<><><>
"You haven't heard?" Madam Garsa asked less then a week later.
Boba tilted his head. They both knew where all the information circulated in this town and it wasn't the palace. She frowned. That meant it was serious, normally she would have played along.
"The twins are on their way. They have Jaba's son with them."
Boba frowned. That was serious. Not many people knew that Jaba had a son. Boba had heard a rumor once that the little slug had been taken, or possibly traded off, to be a hostage against Jaba's loyalty. He'd heard other rumors that said Jaba's son had failed some test and been sent away in shame. When the youngling failed to appear and the years started to stretch, the rumors had mostly faded away.
"I didn't realize the child was still alive."
Garsa shrugged and flicked her leku. "While Jaba was alive it didn't matter and Fortuna was still paying tribute to the hutts. Since we're part of the republic now, they won't be getting their expected tribute."
"So a show of force," Boba said. That wasn't the worst outcome. He could handle a pair of hutts on his own ground it was their hirelings that he was concerned with. He'd need information on who they had working for them, and how loyal they were.
"Perhaps," Madam Garsa refilled his cup. Her eyes were flitting around the cantina, landing lightly on the gaming tables, the serving droids, the band, the girls entertaining a group in the back. It was noisy enough that they probably weren't being eaves dropped upon, but they were also two of the most influential people in the city. People would pay attention.
"The Hutts are not well loved here, that's true, but you are stull untested, at least in this arena. However things fall out, it will certainly be entertaining."
Entertaining. Boba didn't particularly like the sound of that. Around here entertainment meant betting and he was at the end of a stack of long odds.
"When will they arrive?" He asked, looking into his drink.
"Tomorrow, in the morning." Garsa smiled as a human in a wide brimmed hat and a shirt covered in feathers, came to order another drink. She served the stranger.
Boba swirled the last of his spatchca around the bottom of his glass before tossing it back. "If anything changes send word," he said, picking up his helmet and turning towards the door. She offered up her professional smile and waved him off.
Trouble. He'd known something like this was coming. The Hutts wouldn't just let him walk in and take over. He needed some form of leverage on them. The republic wasn't a valid threat since he couldn't actually call them in for backup. And in any case like Garsa had said, he hadn't been tested yet.
Boba stepped out into the sun, letting the filters in his helmet shield him from the glare.
The two Hutts would arrive tomorrow. They would try to surprise him. They would likely make a show of it. Beating down this would be upstart who didn't know his place. He still didn't know how many fighter's they'd have with them.
Boba popped his neck, and rolled his shoulders. He'd need to be prepared for a fight, but that was fine. He was always prepared for a fight.
<><><>
The Hutts arrived in a shuttle that stank both of wealth and of the ooze they secreted. Boba watched it land in front of the palace. It was too large to land in most of the approved shuttle docking pads and if he had to guess the Hutts would scorn any docking fees people tried to charge them.
Boba had instructed the local tower to let them land wherever they wanted. He would still be the one to choose the battlefield.
He wasn't the only one to notice their arrival. Around him, people whispered and gossiped. They watched him, clearly wondering what he was going to do, how he was going to react. Boba let them talk, let a crowd gather as he waited. He had his helmet and armor on, he had his gaderffii in his hand, and his blaster on his hip. Behind him the statue of Leia stood, a pillar against the sky. She end of the chain swung loose from her fist, creaking in the wind.
The Hutts came down the hill on palanquins carried by slaves. They had gold and latinum bracelets and collars. Pleasure slaves waved silk fans in their direction. Between the twins, sitting on a golden cushion was the little huttling. He'd been painted to look his best, but was ruining the effect by eating slugs out of a bucket, the slime dribbling down his front.
With a waved command the procession came to a stop. The bodyguards, at least ten of them, spread out, growling and hissing at the crowd, threatening them until the people retreated.
A kiffar man with a stripe across his nose didn't move fast enough for them and was kicked to the ground. The dark haired Wookie bellowed at him until the man scrambled to his feet and into the protective shelter of a doorway.
"Is this how you would treat my people?" Boba said before anything could start in earnest. He had the volume on his helmet turned up so that everyone in the square could hear, despite the fact that he spoke in his normal tones.
Half the crowd had been moving to clear the area, sensible fear getting the better of curiosity. Now they paused. Slaves, beggars, shopkeepers, and traders, and jack-of-fortunes, turned to watch, huddled in doorways and leaning against walls. A pair of children had climbed up on a stack of crates and were whispering to each other. The fighters he'd hired to stand around and look intimidating put their hands on their weapons, frills coming up, claws unsheathed.
"I have let you land in my town. I have let you come onto my streets. Speak now or I will deny your petition without consideration."
Murmurs went up from the crowd. No one spoke to a Hutt that way and got away with it. For their part the Hutts scoffed and gestured with their fans making a show of scorn and incredulity.
"You let us? You? Let us?! Who do you think you are?" The first twin said.
"Look around you, little human. Do you think you can stop up from doing as we please?" The second twin said a beat later.
Boba turned and looked at the gathering around them. The mercenaries with their arms, the people waiting for a fight to break out, the Hutts on their palanquins, and the sweating, panting slaves who held them up. The rooftop where Fennec was hidden with her sniper rifle.
"Yes," Boba said. He waited until the Hutts started to protest before cranking the volume on his helmet and speaking over them. Jaba the Hutt is gone. I, Boba Fett, am Daimio here."
They sneered. Clearly this was closer to what they had expected. "You are a false king. You have no right to the throne you sit upon. You took it from a pretender. This one is Jaba's true heir." One of the twins gestured at the huttlet between them. The little one had gotten his hand stuck in the bucket that held his slugs and had half rolled over in an effort to get it off.
"A kingly figure," Boba muttered. He had planned for this, and had his counter ready. "If you would claim this place by right of inheritance then my right is older and deeper then any Hutt could lay claim to.
"This land has been claimed and stolen, inch by inch from the vast desert. Every seed that finds root, every mouthful of water, has been fought for. Before there was a palace on the hill, before there was a city carved into this crater, before the first settlers came with their vaperators, there was the desert.
"I was captured by the desert people. I dug in the sand with chains on my wrists. I earned my freedom through sweat and blood. I learned from them, and earned my place. I have tamed the wild bantha. I have eaten the lizard, I proved myself a warrior in combat." He lifted his gaderffii in both hands like the sand people did, before slamming the end into the dirt.
The twins didn't seem to know what to do with this. They looked around. The toughs Boba'd hired were making a show of things. They'd run if it came to a fight, but for now it looked like the Hutts were facing even odds. Worse in their minds, they were in the middle of the battlefield and in potential danger because of it. A child king was no good if he ended up dead.
"no one recognizes the sand people," one of the twins spat out. The other said something low in huttese. The first nodded. smoother out their blubber and continued in a smoother tone. "It was Jaba and Jaba's people who conquered this planet. They dug the water out of the sand and forged this place of power."
"More like his slaves," Boba said, and this time his murmur was echoed by the people watching. Everyone knew a Hutt never got off their ass when a slave could do the work.
"You claim right of conquest?" Boba asked when the mutterings had started to die down but before the twins could say anything.
"This little one was Jaba's only son and heir. He has rightful claim to this territory. We are merely his guardians. We will act as overseers until he comes of age," One of them said.
"The right of conquest is his alone," the other added.
Boba narrowed his eyes behind his helmet. Throwing a youngling under the bus, that was cold, even for a hutt. Still he could work with this.
"Leia Organa of the New Republic, defeated Jaba in combat." He turned and motioned to the statue. "If you recognize the right of conquest then she is ruler here, and I am her hand." He let the words echo slowly around the square, until all eyes were on the trio of Hutts, waiting for the next move.
The huttling had managed to drop the bucket, and pointed imperiously until a slave picked it up and returned it to him. On either side of him, the twins exchanged looks and a few quiet words.
"In the name of Leia the huttslayer, I will take on any challenger in single combat," Boba let his words roll over the crowd. He took up a fighting stance, his gaderffii ready in his hands.
There. That was his last card played. If they decided to fight, he would still be outnumbered and outgunned. He only had to hope that he had set things up to make a fight not worth the cost. Bluff and bravado, but real enough for what he needed.
At the edges of things, the crowd was shifting. Boba saw a battered human pick up a rock. The Kiffar from before had found a metal pole as long as his arm and looked ready to bludgeon someone over the head with it. An overseer who stood behind the Hutts cracked a whip, and a number of slaves whimpered.
Boba waited.
"Enough," One of the twins said at long last. They turned to their retinue and said something in huttese, before turning back to Boba. "The hutt syndicate has recognized the New Republic. We have an accord."
Boba wasn't sure if they were hiding behind that fact or trying to use it as a reason not to get into something here and now. Either way, Boba let out a quiet breath behind his helmet.
One of the twins waved their fan and the palanquins were slowly turned until the Hutts could be carried away.
Someone in the crowd yelled, "Boba and the Huttslayer!" A moment later the crowd had flooded into the square. Boba let himself be swept away by the joy and relief.