The rust coloured dirt swirled in small cyclones that twisted at the ankles of the shoppers. The weekly markets brought a variety of characters from every niche imaginable. Stalls sat on the footpath beside the decaying stone buildings of gunmetal grey.
On the roof of one stone building ruin a figure sat in wait. He lay on his belly, his rifle pointed at the markets below. He had sat there all day. The hot sun had created streams of sweat that trickled down his face but this did not distract him from the job at hand.
He was a bounty hunter, a familiar face amongst the trade. He was regarded as the best or perhaps equal best with Cradossk, the lethal Trandoshan with a wicked temper that was a characteristic to all his species.
This hunter was human, his face brown and lined from exposure to the harsh suns of too many worlds to be remembered. His name was exotically long and so he had come to be known by the alias of âThe Widowmakerâ.
The markets below were trashy and populated by the lower classes of society. Stalls were beginning to close up for the day and the Widowmaker was growing restless. He shifted his knee that ached terribly from an old wound that recently returned to haunt him. As he changed positions his mark entered the cross hairs of the rifleâs scope.
The mark was an adult male Twiâlek. His pale headtails were wrapped around his shoulders. His red eyes were locked on the dirt his feet walked on and a deep air of shame was evident around him.
The Widowmaker confirmed the identity with the picture he had burnt into his memory and pulled the trigger. A clean shot passed through the merchandiseâs head, his headtails flew into the air as he fell. The Twiâlek was dead, the huntâs objective was achieved.
The hunter stood for the first time in hours, his joints stiff from lack of use. The scattered civilians below stared up at the man in black combat armour. He wore an open-faced helmet that was co-ordinated with his full body armour. Under his armour he was clad in a grey bodyglove that was barely visible from the height at which he stood.
The Widowmaker did not even bother looking at the civilians. His focus remained on the corpse. From his utility belt he pulled a device the size of his hand, from the base of his thumb to his fingertips in length. At both ends of the devise were arrowheads, barbed and heavy. The Widowmaker pointed one of the arrowheads at the building opposite the one he stood on. He aimed at the base of the lowest window and pressed a small button that sent the arrowhead plunging downward with a thick cable attached to its base.
The arrowhead embedded itself in the rugged brickwork, the Widowmaker gave it a hard yank and was satisfied when the arrowhead didnât budge. He then released the second arrowhead into the parapet that had concealed him all day from the view of the civilians below.
The Widowmaker adjusted the tension, making the cable a straight line. He placed his rifle in the holster at his back. Then he took the small devise in two hands and slid down the cable to the street below. As he reached the end of the line he dropped from the devise and recalled the arrowheads back to the handgrip. Once this was done he walked to the dead Twiâlek.
The Twiâlekâs limbs were sprawled in all directions, his left arm was bent in an unnatural position but the Widowmaker took no notice. His ebony gloved hand buried its way through the sagging flesh on the side of the Twiâlekâs neck and searched for a pulse. He wasnât surprised when he didnât find one. He then threw the Twiâlek over his shoulder and carried him in the general direction of his ship.
A female Twiâlek darted through the crowd, grabbed the dead Twiâlekâs wrist and tried to pull him away from the Widowmaker. The Widowmaker slapped her aside with his hand, plummeting her to the dusty ground. "Be gone female, this creature belongs to me now.â
The blue Twiâlek began to rambled in her native tongue. The Widowmaker knew the language but she spoke too fast for him to catch anything but one sentence, "You will get your comeuppance, bounty hunter!â She repeated it a few times but the Widowmaker simply dismissed her and boarded his ship. The Twiâlek spat at the closed door and swore revenge as the bronze U-shaped ship ascended into the auburn sky.
Azura, the blue female Twiâlek was not to be trifled with. She rose to her feet and watched as the bronze spaceship shrank to a pinpoint. Her fists clenched as the bounty hunter left her without her mate. The Widowmaker scored another point to his name.
Azura had known that her mate had been having trouble making ends meet. However it was only that morning she had discovered heâd gambled against a high-ranking drug lord and lost. Although Remboola, her mate, had been broke, she had been far from it.
The female Twiâlek was born into a rich family. Azura had only to ask for credits and they were hers. Azura refused her monthly allowance insisted by her parents simply because Remboola had wanted to earn his own money to get them by. She had agreed and now regretted it.
With teeth clenched Azura went into a bar where assassins, mercenaries and bounty hunters were plentiful. The atmosphere was dark and smoky. A long bar stretched across the back wall where various creatures drank, half turned towards the barâs entrance, not trusting newcomers or each other. Scattered tables in no particular pattern formed an obstacle course hindering access to the bartender, who nervously wiped dry an empty glass. Criminals of all sorts were lingering in different levels of intoxication. Only one seemed to be fully aware of his surroundings.
Azura recognised the armour immediately. Mandalorian combat armour she recalled. No one could mistake the distinctive T-shaped visor. It had been quite some time since the Mandalorians had been defeated by the Jedi, but Azura found comfort in the fact that one vicious soldier still lived.
The Mandalorianâs black visor was intent on a pale Wookie. Her fur was a lot lighter than the usual colour of Wookie hair and this made her easy to distinguish from her two companions. The Wookies growled at each other in communication, nodding their furry heads and gesturing with paws that hid huge claws.
The muzzle of the Mandalorianâs blaster rose slightly. His slow movements were then replaced by a rapid flurry of blaster bolts at the trio of Wookies. The pale Wookie's companions hit the floor dead but the pale Wookie only sustained a flesh wound.
She bellowed a battle cry and charged at the Mandalorian. He leapt upon the bar, hunched over and shifting his weight from one foot to the other tauntingly. His trigger finger visibly tensed then relaxed threateningly. He took a step backward, leading the Wookie on.
The bartender dropped the glass he had been polishing and dove for cover between the beer barrels under the bar. Patrons either went to seek shelter or jeered the Mandalorian and the Wookie on.
Honour demanded that the Wookie kill the Mandalorian for slaying her companions and the Mandalorian knew this. A throaty growl escaped her and the Mandalorian accepted the challenge.
He kicked a bottle of Dantooine Chardonnay at the Wookie as she swatted at him with her huge paws. He scored a direct hit to her chest with a carefully aimed blaster bolt and watched her slump to her knees in shock. He leapt off the bar and put her out of her misery with a final shot. He then pulled a vibro blade from his utility belt and proceeded to scalp her.
Azura turned away in disgust. She had found a suitable being to be the bringer of her wrath to the Widowmaker. When she returned her attention to the Mandalorian he was removing a beautiful necklace from the hip pouch the Wookie had been wearing.
The bartender emerged from his hiding place, his arms protectively wrapped around his head. The Mandalorian threw the bartender a credit chip and left the building.
Azura hurried after the Mandalorian, "Wait!" She cried in Basic. The Mandalorian stopped and turned his dark visor on her. A blaster was in one hand and the Wookie scalp in the other. He said nothing so Azura spoke, "I wish to hire you." She spat while trying to catch her breath.
The Mandalorianâs gaze turned away from her for a moment, listening to the ruckus from the bar. He then returned his attention back to Azura, "Whoâs the merchandise?" His harsh voice said without any emotion.
"I want you to bring me the head of the Widowmaker." She snarled.
The Mandalorian's head tilted to the side as if he was making sure her demand was genuine. "It will cost you."
"I have the money, name your sum." Azure spoke confidently as she realised the Mandalorian was taking her seriously.
"Five hundred thousand credits," the Mandalorian stated.
Azura's eyes darted away from him and her brow furrowed as she considered what her parents would say at her demand for so many credits. A picture of Remboola's dead body popped into her mind. "On one condition," said Azura.
The Mandalorian waited. "You do this job for me immediately."
The Mandalorian replied, "Pay me ten thousand in advance and it will be done."
Azura nodded, "Very well. I will get the money and meet you . . ."
"Meet me at my ship, it's docked in bay 197. It's a light freighter from Kuat named âCarbine'." The Mandalorian cut in.
"Fine. Oh, I'm Azura by the way and you are?" She said while holding her hand out to be shaken.
"Boba Fett," replied the Mandalorian as he placed his blaster in his left hand then shook her hand with his right. As they let their hands drop she sped away, her head tails flying out behind her as she ran.
Boba Fett smirked beneath the helmet. He had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to take on the top ranking bounty hunter, the Widowmaker. He simply couldn't challenge the other hunter, it was against the Bounty Hunter's Creed. Not that he was a firm follower of the creed. Fett was an independent operator, his only use of the code was to turn it against other bounty hunters or use it as an excuse to spare himself from the pitiful sparring of other rookie hunters.
Fett was determined to make a name for himself in the bounty hunting trade. He had come to this conclusion while testing his skills on a nameless moon a few years ago. Boba Fett was into the swing of things now and knew he was capable of defeating the older bounty hunter.
Boba Fett had studied up on every famous hunter in the galaxy. Learning their moves, their preferred methods of fighting and weaponry. He had the Widowmaker's style down to series of moves and strategies. The hunter had shifted into jobs that required little to no one-on-one combat. He selected hunts that paid well but were of slight risk to his own being. This meant one thing, he was no longer the hunter he used to be.
However Fett was not stupid enough to believe the Widowmaker was of no real threat. The Widowmaker was a legend in his own right. He had survived situations beyond belief, although Fett was prone to thinking that it was exaggerated gossip of the dull witted.
Fett walked through the dusty streets, passing many vagabonds who were begging for credits from anyone. However their hands dropped quickly to their sides when they saw Fett. They knew trouble when they saw it.
The cubic freighter that awaited Fett's return brought a sigh of dismay to the hunter's lips. The freighter was heavily armed with many hidden weapons but her speed was far from adequate. To add to it, shielding was minimal and the armoured plating was held on only by a few screws.
Nearly all of Fett's earnings were being saved to buy a new ship. His current vessel was not worth the effort of modification. The hunk of junk was lucky to make it off-world, let alone jump into hyperspace. High-speed chases through space were out of the question for Fett but the old ship did have a few little surprises if they were required.
He slammed his fist on the outer hatch button that only responded to harsh treatment. It opened accommodatingly and a synthetic feminine voice stated, "Welcome aboard!" Fett was yet to find the communication panel that activated that greeting, when he found it he planned to jettison the circuit into a black hole.
Boba Fett walked to the cockpit and activated the holo-vid. A Bith answered the call. His large pale cranium and bulging black eyes studied Fett. "Did you kill the Wookies, or more importantly have you got the necklace, bounty hunter?" He asked without formality.
Fett lifted the jewellery into the view of the hologram. His gloved hand wrapped around it possessively. "There will be a delay in delivery."
Darkness flowed over the Bith's eyes, almost undetectable. But Fett was well educated in the workings of many species' minds and features. He bore his hidden gaze on the Bith and watched the alien cower in response. "How long a delay?"
"Unknown, I'm obligated to a priority bounty. I'll inform you when I will arrive." Fett answered as he removed the necklace from view. "Fett out."
An hour passed before Azura made it to Fett's ship, Carbine. Her hand was raised to knock on the outer hatch but it opened and the bounty hunter stood before her. "I have the money." She stated in a cracked voice.
Fett beckoned her inside with a gloved hand. She walked by him and was surprised at the sparseness of Boba Fett's ship. He then passed by her in the corridor and headed to what would have been the Mess Hall when the freighter was crewed by several hands. The room was a picture of hygiene and light. Not what Azura expected of a bounty hunter.
He sat down at a long metal table and indicated to a seat. Azura sat and brushed her headtails aside as she retrieved the required credits from a hidden pouch under her brown leather vest. She presented them to the hunter who took them gracefully from her hand.
Nervousness hit Azura as Boba Fett checked the amount. He gave a satisfied nod when the credit amount was confirmed then asked, "Do you know the location of the Widowmaker?"
Azura shook her head, "I have no idea where he was going. He took my dead mate with him. All I know is Remboola gambled with a drug lord and paid up big time."
Although Azura tried to conceal her tattered emotions, Fett was able to see the welling of tears in the Twi'lek's eyes. He didn't acknowledge his observation. "I'll track him myself then. He won't be hard to find."
Azura nodded as logic triumphed over sorrow. "That's good. A man with such a known face cannot hide for long."
"Exactly," commented Fett as his index finger traced the base of his helmet. Anticipation flooded his entire being but none was visible from his controlled exterior.
Azura's head dropped and her headtails bordered her face as her fighting control lost the battle. "I have to go now. How long before you return?" She almost whimpered.
"I'll let you know when I track him down." Replied Fett suddenly eager to shift the blue female away.
"Okay," she croaked as she got to her feet. Boba Fett silently escorted her out of Carbine. He inwardly fumed when the ship's synthetic voice bid her goodbye. He was definitely going to buy a new ship when he completed this job.
As soon as Azura was gone Fett stormed down the ship's corridor and into the cockpit. He began searching for the Widowmaker's whereabouts via the Holonet. His search was into its third hour when Boba Fett located the Widowmaker. His ship was docked at Kuat Drive Yards undergoing repairs and would be there for a least a week.
Fett went to the cockpit and arranged for lift off. Once he was in orbit he set a quick course for KDY and hoped Carbine would make it.
The shaking almost chipped Fett's teeth to smithereens as Carbine came out of hyperspace. His gloved fists where white knuckled as he held onto the armrests of the pilot's chair. "I hate this ship," he muttered to himself.
The construction docks of KDY loomed largely in Carbine's viewport. Fett contacted Ground Control and asked for permission to land. He was not impressed when they asked which department he wanted to start at for repairs.
As a cover story he advised Ground Control that he wished to have some maintenance done on the deflector shields. That was all he was willing to spend on the useless hunk.
Although the ship was cumbersome, Fett was able to land it almost delicately. Once the mechanics came to inspect the ship Fett headed to the cold corridors of the KDY complex.
Boba Fett's footsteps echoed through the almost empty corridor. The place smelt more of antiseptics then engine lubricants. The gentle tapping of keyboards was audible to Fett but his concentration was focused on finding the Widowmaker.
Fett froze in mid step as he overhead a voice mention the Widowmaker. "...Really you'd think Kuat of Kuat would refuse to serve the likes of the Widowmaker. Kuat may be young but he is supposed to have brains."
"Well the Widowmaker is loaded with credits he may as well spend them here." Said a second voice.
"I guess but the fact that he's staying in the Workers Station gives me the creeps." Commented the first.
"You got something to hide, Derop? The Widowmaker is only interested in you if you're profitable." Smirked the second speaker.
Both speakers stopped talking as a blur of Mandalorian armour hurried by. "Who was that?" Asked Derop. His companion merely stood with an open mouth.
Boba Fett had heard what he needed to know. He stopped the nearest employee of KDY and asked directions to the Workers Station. She gave a long and detailed story of how to get there, obviously hoping to send the bounty hunter in circles. However his helmet recorded every word that she said and sent the information back to Carbine, where it was deciphered and an easy route was returned to Fett.
Once the woman was finished Fett confirmed the route by saying, "So I go left twice, right once, left again and I'm there."
The blonde stood with her jaw dropped. Her plan to confuse him had gone awry. Her mouth moved as she attempted to ask him how he could have possibly deduced that information. But Boba Fett was already a dozen paces away.
The shiny squares of lino glistened and reflected a sharp image of the bounty hunter that trod upon them. Even in his determination to reach the Workers Station he observed that insignificant fact.
As he turned the last corner Fett came to a doorway with a plaque screwed into the doorframe. Although the plaque was protected by some transparent element, Boba Fett noticed the chips around the bevelled edges. To be so high and so marked indicated that what lay ahead was not a gentle environment.
Fett activated the door and cautiously peered inside the white room lined with rows of grey lockers. It was the outer storage room for the workers who lived nearby and wished to shower and change clothing before their journey home. The long distance travellers had their own quarters to stay in between visits home.
Edging his way silently through the maze of lockers, Fett caught his breath as a being turned the bend and rammed straight into him. The man's eyes went wide as he backed away and saw the blaster lovingly held in Fett's cold embrace.
Boba Fett said nothing. The man said nothing. They stared at each other for a moment before the man toed his way around the silent hunter. Fett's feet remained stationary but his black visor followed the man as he clung nervously to the cream towel that was wrapped around his wide hips. Fett dismissed his presence after a quick perusal of the items within the man's locker.
A corridor bottlenecked inward and led to the Long Distance Workers Quarters. Anticipation climbed to the highest levels Fett had ever experienced in his life. This hunt was a chance to test his stamina, his skill and most of all, his intelligence.
His finger had a mind of its own, in his excitement it contracted on the trigger before his common sense made him lessen his grip.
Unconsciously Fett's posture had stooped to the low and slow stalk of a determined predator that had caught the scent of its prey. The spiked toes of his boots were the only threat to his silent prowl. If the metal touched the lino surface it would definitely make a noise.
Fett's muscles were tense, his heart pumped with a faster rhythm. His gloved palms sweated in his heightened state of elation. However none of this was visible to the attendant that stood at the entrance of the Long Distance Workers Quarters. Boba Fett appeared on the hunt but nothing else escaped the camouflage of his Mandalorian armour.
He raised his blaster and aimed it at the attendant, "Where's the Widowmaker?" He demanded in a voice that was low and harsh. He raised his blaster to the attendant's temple when he hesitated.
"Bunker 209," the attendant answered as beads of sweat pearled at his brow.
Fett raised his left gauntlet and rewarded the attendant with a dart that paralyzed the man in a frozen stance. It was a new drug Fett had acquired, most useful when a person was to remain at their post. Although the potion wore off in two hours.
Continuing on with a quicker gait, Boba Fett was stationed at the Widowmaker's door within moments. He changed the setting of his helmet's visuals to infrared. He raised a fist to the door and knocked two loud thuds. The door opened and had Fett left his visuals on his usual setting he would not have seen the Widowmaker leaning into the wall beside the open doorway.
Fett pivoted to his right and let his itchy trigger finger have its way.
The Widowmaker retaliated by throwing a thermal detonator at him. Just as Fett had predicted. Raising a red gauntlet, Fett used it like a racquet in tennis. Swinging his forearm in a backhand gesture, he swatted the tiny bomb back to its origin.
Instinctively, the Widowmaker raised his armoured arms to cover his face and rolled himself along the wall, away from the detonator.
Boba Fett crossed the corridor, his back was plastered against the wall that housed the Widowmaker's door. He could see the Widowmaker's motley coloured form on the infrared, he was trying to protect himself from the inevitable explosion.
The Widowmaker lowered his arms and looked at the dud detonator, "Damn Jawas!" He cursed, referring to the short smelly robed creatures with glowing yellow eyes from Tatooine.
Fett opened fire. The Widowmaker returned it as he ran forward. One arm sheltered his exposed face. Then it moved in an unexpected shuffle.
Realisation hit Fett too late. He knew the move but he only had time to duck. The Widowmaker exposed his elbow, at the base of the upper arm armour was a tube and from that tube came a small rocket.
The rocket didn't hit the centre of the T-shaped visor as intended. Instead it struck the helmet's forehead, knocking Fett on his backside with the force of impact. A neat crater dinted the ivy helmet. Fett shook his head to clear the sudden dizziness.
The Widowmaker was scurrying down the hall in the common behaviour of merchandise. Boba Fett felt his respect drop at this change in the once notorious hunter.
The pursuit was on the moment Fett's feet were firmly back on the ground. He fired his weapon until the cartridge was empty. He slapped in another in a reflex and found himself at a bend in the corridor. His pace slowed dramatically. His helmet searched for the body-heat of the Widowmaker.
When nothing appeared he changed visual settings back to normal and thanked his observant eye. The Widowmaker's reflection was evident in gleaming tiles of lino.
Boba Fett was about to make his move when the Widowmaker's voice reached him, "So you think you will become the best bounty hunter in the galaxy if you kill me?"
"Don't flatter yourself," Fett replied dryly, still standing on the opposite side of the bend.
"If you do succeed in taking me down, you won't be the best as long as Cradossk is alive." The Widowmaker stated, trying to provoke Fett into making a wrong move.
"Cradossk is no longer in the game. He's too busy murdering his way up the ranks of the Bounty Hunters Guide." Retorted Fett.
"Once he has control he will be a powerful force to deal with." The Widowmaker sneered.
"Not if he continues to slay the most powerful beings. He wants easy money, like you." Fett said in a tone that betrayed his disgust for the Guide.
The Widowmaker said no more. But Boba Fett had already estimated the position the Widowmaker was in. He guessed the distance and probable plan of attack the Widowmaker would use. Fett knew the Widowmaker liked to get the job done by going for the head.
Fett dropped to his haunches and crab-walked along the inner wall. As he reached the corner he swung half his body around the bend and launched an explosive dart from his knee protector.
The Widowmaker flopped to the floor. Fett rose to his full height and swung his blaster rifle snugly in his grip. He staggered towards the motionless form. His heart rate was through the roof, sweat from extreme pleasure dotted his hidden face. Boba Fett's glee rose as the Widowmaker stirred. It wasn't over yet.
Fett stood his ground, his blaster aimed at the figure at his feet.
The Widowmaker unexpectedly rolled and fired an electric pulse rifle at Fett. Miniature lightening cascaded over Boba Fett's armoured body and was intensified by the metal that encased his form.
Falling to his knees and grinding his teeth, Fett felt his head fall forward. He couldn't be defeated, his will would not allow it. He raised an arm as he planned to fire his flamethrower. The Widowmaker backed off. This resulted in the decline of power to hit Fett. His arm slowly lifted higher.
The Widowmaker made an attempt at escape. The sudden release from the electronic weapon made Boba Fett's body slump in relief. A slight wafting of steam smoked from his armour. He wearily rose to his feet. His body was tired but his determination to defeat the Widowmaker was an extremely powerful motivator. He dredged up every reserve of strength in his body and charged after the so-called best bounty hunter.
The black clad bounty hunter emerged from the KDY building and into the wrecking depot. The littered waste, which made up the ship graveyard, slowed his progress but the Widowmaker smiled as he caught sight of a desolate swoop.
Boba Fett was only a short distance away. He ran at a paced speed and watched the Widowmaker climb onto and straddle a battered swoop.
Fett quickly surveyed the relics around him. A speeder sat at a 45-degree angle. Fett jumped aboard and gunned the repulsor lifts. The speeder coughed in protest, Fett gave her some throttle and the relic rose with surprising grace.
Despite the fact that the steering was pulling to the right Fett found that the speeder handled pretty well in comparison to his own technical dump, Carbine. He was used to handling decomposing technology, however the Widowmaker was not.
The swoop jutted uncontrollably so the Widowmaker had to reduce his speed to a steady crawl. It didn't worry him until he spotted the Mandalorian clad bounty hunter pursuing him in an ancient speeder.
For once in his life the Widowmaker knew his possibility for failure was high. He had faced other bounty hunters before, some elite in experience others were mere amateurs. This one had the advantages of both. He was unheard of by the Widowmaker but he was definitely a total professional. The other bounty hunter knew the Widowmaker's moves, which showed intelligence and devotion to his work.
The Widowmaker felt with clarity that this new hunter would be a force to be reckoned with when he reached his prime, and the Widowmaker knew that his opponent was still learning.
The Widowmaker turned to observe his pursuer. The hunter's helmeted head dropped so that the chin touched the plates of his armour that protected his collarbones. His black T-shaped visor reflected the shine of the bright floodlights. Yet the Widowmaker felt the vicious stare even though he could not see it.
The speeder was gaining at a slow rate. The Widowmaker checked his ammunition. Low readings on his blaster, electric pulse rifle and rocket launcher. His armour had received a fierce pounded thanks to his young opponent.
The Widowmaker reached into a hidden pocket beneath his armour and extracted a concussion grenade. He peered at it, then at the bounty hunter behind him. He set the timer and dropped it amongst the scattered metal chunks that littered the ground.
A red light flashed within Boba Fett's helmet. His gaze fixed on the brass coloured object as the first explosion rippled from the grenade. The front of the speeder was shredded and the repulsors gave out, making the speeder drop suddenly to the ground. An impatient bleeping joined the red light in Fett's helmet.
The Widowmaker watched the second explosion and smiled smugly to himself, "He was good, very good. But not good enough." The Widowmaker waited for the final explosion that would obliterate any evidence that his opponent ever existed.
A large chunk of debris shot skyward and the Widowmaker's gaze was draw to it immediately. The debris then turned and headed towards him. Suddenly the Widowmaker noticed the debris had legs and arms.
Boba Fett guided his jetpack into a full pelt drop. His blaster was holstered but he held both his arms out, his fists pressed together making a perfect ramming device.
Reactions were delayed by pure amazement. The Widowmaker went to fire his blaster but the diving bounty hunter collected him in a ribcage-breaking sweep. Both bounty hunters slammed onto the metal littered ground, but Fett had the Widowmaker to break his fall.
As Boba Fett had rammed into the Widowmaker he felt pain shoot from his knuckles, up his arms, then jolt his shoulders at the joints. But pain couldn't dissolve the joy that swelled through Fett's injured body as he had felt the Widowmaker's chest crack at the inflicted pressure.
The two bounty hunters skidded for some distance. The metal of the Widowmaker's armour grew to extremely high temperatures from the friction of the ground garbage. As their momentum slowed, Boba Fett gave a short burst from his jetpack and deposited himself a short distance away from the Widowmaker. He waited for the other hunter to stop completely before approaching.
This time Fett did not even attempt a silent approach. When he was close Fett knew the Widowmaker was dead. The Widowmaker's head was almost severed through by a large triangular piece of metal the size of the Widowmaker's torso.
Fett's nose wrinkled in disgust beneath the visor. Then his brows rose. Azura wanted the head of the Widowmaker, she could have it. It took little effort for Boba Fett to free the Widowmaker's head from his body. He then quarterized the open wound with the flamethrower on his gauntlet before placing the head in a disposed metal crate that sat amongst the wrecks.
When Fett returned to the docking bay he was greeted by one of KDY's mechanics. "All the work you requested has been done. I have a few suggestions that would help keep your ship...um...up-to-date."
"I have a better idea." Said Fett as he sauntered into Carbine, ignoring the stupid greeting.
He returned a moment later with a roll of paperwork in his hand. He presented it to the mechanic who nodded with approval. The mechanic unrolled the paperwork and studied it with a grin. "Nice, I'm sure we could do that for you. Of course you'll have to have the funds before we start."
Fett nodded, "I have a delivery to make. After that I'll have enough."
The mechanic nodded, "What will you call this ship once she's built?"
Beneath the helmet a crooked smile formed, "Slave I."
Sending a transmission of his return, Fett then departed KDY and headed to Azura's home planet. She was waiting for his arrival at the bar in which she had first seen him. Her eyes widened at his arrival and curiosity was evident when she saw the beaten up crate carried under his arm.
Azura noticed that his Mandalorian armour had attained a great number of scratches and dints in his battle with the Widowmaker. Fett merely raised his head and carried them with pride, displaying his well earned battle scars. In some places the scratches were so deep that the yellow undercoat of paint could be seen. Others were deeper still, revealing shining metal.
Delicately, Fett placed the crate on the oval table. Opened the lid and extracted the head of the Widowmaker.
"You did it!" Azura squealed, "You killed the Widowmaker!"
Her outburst drew the attention of the bar patrons who whispered hushly to each other.
Azura transferred the amount owed to Boba Fett and smiled grandly. "Thank you, Boba Fett. Your bounty has an added bonus, now you are the best bounty hunter in the galaxy." Boba Fett merely nodded in response, checked his credit account, and then left the bar.
Within a standard galactic month the majority of sentient creatures of many worlds knew Boba Fett's name. Over the years his reputation grew until he became a feared legend that would be remembered long after his life extinguished.