He didn’t trust her, but with the amount that was offered, 75
000 credits, he was willing to take his chances.

Boba Fett - the greatest and most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy,
sat scrutinizing the intriguing message that was sent to him. What do
we have here? Fett mused.

The woman’s name is Viktoria, and she claims to represent a
client who is impressed by his services and reputation.

The target was a man named Ramirez, who recently angered a nobleman
and collector named Constantine-little is known of Constantine except
that he is an eccentric new face in the city…and mostly
keeps to himself.

Interesting thought Fett as he scrolled through the message.
This Ramirez is quite a character: appallingly greedy, treacherous, in
that he conspires against his own soldiers! Hmmm. Substantial
wealth! Fett smiled, as he skimmed over the information that Victoria
presented to him. Finally, he got an image of his quarry; Ramirez
carried himself like a Brahmin, garish gems encrusted his fingers to the
tips. His face was handsome and clean - his nose - Aquiline. Some of his
teeth were capped in gold. His clothes overly decorative: long flowing
robes … furs of different animals collared his neck, their empty
eye sockets replaced with rubies or emeralds. Draped from his broad
shoulders to his feet in rich clothes of dark purples and velvets, he
also wore huge necklaces with giant Krayt dragon pearls, and around them
gleaming diamonds.

How pretentious can you get? Fett thought mockingly. The sight
of this guy told Fett everything he wanted to know about him. I bet
he drinks wine with diamonds in the glass. Fett chuckled lightly;
his vocal synthesizer vibrated mechanically. For all of the pretentious
glory radiating from this guy, Ramirez’ most precious item was his
leather pouch, which held his most priceless possession. And, like most
of his kind, it was kept close to his heart, and away form servants.

He is in Tatooine!

Where else? thought Fett, sarcastically. Most of the
universe’s greedy villains nested in Tatooine.

Fett continued reading. "Bring him back alive." Hmmm.
Nothing here about not using force to get him. This won’t
be too much of a challenge. Viktoria mentioned that Ramirez is well
protected by guards and security systems, she also mentioned that the
guards were tough and well organized, and the mansion was confusing to
navigate in. It was constructed recently; so Fett had to piece together
his own map from observation and hearsay.

Fett sat and paused, clicking off the holo-message, sitting back in
his pilot’s chair. Sounds like the place is a bit of a
maze…I guess if you’re rich enough you could build any kind of
madhouse to live in. He thought.

---

Fett was intrigued with Constantine. But a job’s a job. Fett
took a mental note to check up on the Constantine later, but now he
wanted to return to Tatooine and to get on with the business. Although
he was in no hurry, he knew that pompous brat Ramirez would be lounging
in his luxuries for a while. Fett’s fingers danced across the
controls of Slave 1, Fett pushed a single button and launched in to
hyperspace, stars morphed in to bright steaks as he was closing towards
Tatooine.

The place was a dump, a wasteland for the galaxy’s washouts and
garbage for the Empire. If not for Fett’s filters through his
helmet, he would have gagged at the stench of animals and other toxins
that floated through the dry air. I’ve been here
before…Hated it then, loathe it now. Fett thought
disgustedly.

He parked his ship in a secret port and set out, keeping his security
on his ship up at full alert; he didn’t trust anyone or anything
that lived in this hellhole.

He strutted through the crowed streets and stores, filled with shouts
and conversations of all creatures; the hot double suns beat on him with
blistering heat, enough to give one a heat stroke. But Fett was well
protected with his temperature stabilizer that was located all through
his clothing and armor.

His boot soles trudged up along one another as he marched through the
sand of the desert planet. A creature crawled up on his boot; he stopped
and looked down at the scrambling Jawa begging him for something,
obviously money. Fett reached in to one of the pouches that went across
his hips, and pulled out a credit, the Imperial symbol was distinct
against it, shining like one of the suns. It landed in front of his feet
as the creature chirped with excitement, shuffling his dainty claws as
it toppled down. The creature scooped it up and scurried off, vanishing
in to the crowds.

Before Fett could allow himself to put up with any more begging
Jawas, he headed in to a local cantina known as the Nomad, To
find a place to stay until nightfall. That would be the perfect time for
Fett so he wouldn’t get any unwanted attention. As soon as Fett
stepped in the doorway to the Nomad, creatures and humanoids that
knew who he was parted for him, as if he were a king, they especially
wouldn’t like to be in his way, and if they were, they somehow
winded up disappearing, or found dead. Fett nodded slightly, and walked
through the cantina.

Deeper and deeper through the bar, the smells of the Nomad
became nauseating of bodies, sweat, and alcohol. Thanks for small
parts. Fett thought, without his helmet’s filters…he
winced at the thought.

The bartender noticed Fett, and began to serve Fett’s usual, a
Twi’lek green alcohol from Ryloth. Fett sat down and waved his hand
to dismiss it. Instead, Fett looked around to make sure no one was
watching, and any of the eyes that wandered his direction looked the
other way. Fett leaned forward toward the bartender’s ugly face. "I
need a place to stay." Fett said coldly. "We don’t run a motel
here." Said the bartender, Fett slid a credit coin toward the bartender,
the he put his rag down on to the counter, and soon enough it
disappeared when lifted again.

"Don’t mess with me Whurhr." Fett growled under his breath.
Whurhr, the bartender’s name, shifted his eyes, then spoke up.

"Downstairs, turn right, behind the wine racks, how long you planning
to stay?"

"That’s none of your business." Fett said dryly, "Here’s
your change." Whurhr said, sliding a key across the table, and before
anyone could see it, Fett palmed it in his gloved hand.

He looked around and got up, making sure no one was watching him, and
headed down to the dank corridors of the cantina’s private
chambers.

As he was heading down, he noticed some Rodians talking about a
legendary Sarlacc that lived in the wastes of the Dune Sea. Not that he
was worried, but Fett took respect in what they said, of what he heard,
it wasn’t pretty, the thought of being digested in a slow agonizing
death, didn’t appeal to his sort of adventure.

When Fett finally got down there, the rank smell wasn’t as
potent as the upper levels, but still had a disturbing odor, but
didn’t bother him as much.

He walked in closed the door quietly and plopped himself down on the
cot that was nestled in the corner of the chamber. He took his helmet
off, and inhaled a breath full of air in to his lungs; he sighed and
felt relaxed, looking at the low, damp stone ceiling. He was tired out
from traveling and decided to rest, with his helmet resting lightly on
his armored stomach. He decided to sleep, he did not dream, nor was
startled. He slept the sleep of a just man.

Fett woke up. At the right time, ready to head over and take care of
Ramirez. He slipped on his helmet and stood up stretching slightly. He
headed up to the bar; it was dark, and eerily lit, showing many of the
depressed, nocturnal creatures and humanoids still sipping their
narcotic ales.

Fett glanced around and still noticed Whurhr getting ready to close
up. "I’ll be back." He said. Only a few creatures looked up, but
returned to sipping their drinks.

Whurhr nodded in approval. "I’m here all night." He replied, his
quarters were in back some where, so Fett wouldn’t have a problem
getting back in.

As he began to walk through the half empty bar, he noticed some
peasants lounging in the corner; he recognized them from Ramirez’s
house. His helmet’s sensors picked up their conversation.

"The master will be in the basement to count his treasure soon, but
while he’s above, we must let him go his way." One said, the other
replied bluntly, "It’s better that way, while he’s jolly
below, there we wouldn’t be nagged by him." Fett strained his ears,
as their voices became low. He heard that Ramirez would be down there in
the basements of his lair quite some time, enough time for Fett to get
there before he does, also enough time to cut the wiring to the alarms.
When he heard enough, he hurried out to get to Ramirez taken care
of.

The sweet summer rain had ended recently. The soft roses and lilacs
of Ramirez’s garden bled their intoxicating aromas. The moon was
full and inspiring. Casting long shadows. And the huge courtyard made
the guards seem like ants.

One, named Miguel walked sullenly over to his partner.

"Think any thing’ll happen?" He asked.

"No, probably not…But don’t soft up though." The other
warned.

"Not me."

Fett crept through the shadows like a prowling animal, allowing no
one to see him; the guards were on their full vigil. So he had to be
cautious.

He had reached the front yards of the mason, and would at all costs,
avoid the main gate, as it be heavily guarded.

He sat crouched completely unnoticeable, he was in a low, definite
crouch, as he inched his way up the hill to a side window. Suddenly, a
guard, the one known as Miguel walked alone silently up the small
rising, just several meters away from Fett. He saw a niche behind a
large tree-like bush, and decided to lurk there until the guard got at a
safe enough distance from him.

When Miguel got past a large bush, and paused. Enjoying the summer
evening. He sighed deeply, thinking to himself. Suddenly, his musings
were interrupted when he caught movement in the shadows. "He’" he
yelped, but choked on the words when something sharp slid across his
throat.

The guard struggled briefly and then stopped, his body sagged in the
crook of Fett’s elbow. He tossed the guard soundlessly to the soft
garden floor of the courtyard. There was no blood, for the kill was
clean and quick. He dragged the corpse behind the niche-so well he hid
it that it would be impossible to find it until the smell got the best
of it.

Fett dashed under a high balcony and looked up Good. A wooden beam
was jutting out just meters away from the balcony. Instead of using his
jet-pack, he unfastened it, and laid it against the stone wall of
Ramirez’s mansion-it would be bulky and useless for the mission, so
he got out his grappling hook, carefully aimed it at the beam and shot
it up. It made a perfect shot, digging its claw-like hooks in to the
softwood.

When Fett got up on the balcony, he collected his hook together and
picked the lock in to Rameirez’s home. When the lock jarred, the
door opened on it’s own. And Fett crept silently in, closing the
door behind him. He noticed his surrounding was some sort of chamber,
perhaps a peasants, the floor was wood, bunks along the corner. He
noticed a tall ladder, just in the other room allowing access to go in
to the long pearl decorated hallways. He slid down the ladder, and
looking at the pompous hallways of the arrogant Ramirez. Every light had
diamonds that embellished his initials, the floors so clean that they
shone like mirrors. The place was like a varnished palace.

His foot made a loud tap that echoed through the corridors, and
unfortunately, a guard picked it up, heading down the hallway rushing to
the source of the sound.

Fett had to act quickly, there weren’t many shadows to hide,
there was a door, but it was locked. "Damn!" Fett said under his breath,
tugging at the locked knob uselessly.

The guards were getting closer, and if they were to discover him, he
wouldn’t be so sneaky and that would ruin a whole sneak attack
plan.

Suddenly, he heard a hushed voice rush through him like a ghost
moving around his body like air, "This way!" only Fett would have been
the one to actually hear it. He didn’t have much a choice but to
follow it. A narrow hallway led him to a dead end; he was trapped, with
the guards approaching quickly. He found his head swivel around to a
dumb waiter; its doors open like arms greeting him. He dove in to the
crammed cubicle, and slammed the doors; Just in time.

The guards got there, and saw…nothing. "I gotta stop jumping for
rats." One guard said, as a black rat scurried across the hallway. The
other noticed it also, crushing its tiny bones against his boot soles,
snickering slightly. "Let’s go." The guard said sliding the dead
creature across the room.

Fett’s heart rushed, that was too close. Fett thought for
a moment. Guess I got to take another approach to Ramirez. When
his heart regained its normal rate, he grabbed the pulley and pulled the
only direction he could go…up.

He stopped short when he heard a couple of voices… servants.

"It sure is quiet this evening." The servant said, his voice whiney
and tinny. Then another, a woman’s spoke up, "And enjoy the evening
while you can friend. His fatness should be back soon."

"Where is he I haven’t seen him." the other said.

"Down stairs of course, counting his loot. When he’s upstairs,
tend to him with teas and cakes, and talk to him of daily on goings. But
when he’s down in the basement, dare not bother him, unless he
calls for you, then hop to it!"

Fett didn’t have time for them to flap their gums, he pulled to
the next level and there he stopped…He listened…no one. Good,
it was about time. Fett cautiously, and quietly opened the doors, it was
clear, slowly…slowly, Fett got out from his crouched
position, putting his foot down on the tiled floor calculating one after
the other. He held his head low, staying in the shadows. He got to the
middle of the hallway, and noticed a courtyard, with stairs leading
upward to an unknown destination.

Keeping his appearance hidden from the guards or feeble servants, he
slid unnoticeably in to the small courtyard. Fett placed his body firmly
against the wall and looked at the map, not much luck. The map
didn’t have this on the map. This thing is useless! He
thought angrily. He crammed the fruitless map back in to his pouch, now
relying on instinct. He ran up the stairs and noticed a flag draped down
the wall, for some reason, he found his fist hitting the flag, and
there, to his luck was a hidden passage. "Interesting." Fett said
climbing down a flight of stairs.

As he climbed down the steel ladder, the air around him grew moist
and light diminishing from visibility. Fett’s night vision
automatically kicked in, allowing him perfect sight.

The ladder plummeted downward, until he finally reached the basement,
no guards were there, but near, and could easily pick him up if he
wasn’t careful.

As Fett sneaked his way down the torch-lit corridors, a guard was
nearing, and this time; there wasn’t a dumb waiter for him to run
to. He looked around, and noticed a wooden door. Fett slammed himself
against it, forcing the door open like a tumbling wall, swinging
uselessly back and forth.

Fett disappeared in to the darkness, grabbing the guard that was now
aware of his presence, sprawling to the floor with a whack hard enough
to send stars dancing around him.

Fett pulled him back up with his durasteel grip, slamming a gun to
his temple. "Corporate with me, and you live." Fett growled deeply. The
guard was immediately aware of the situation; he nodded slightly in
agreement with Fett.

"What do you want bounty hunter?" The guard asked coldly. Fett’s
head went right behind the guard’s neck, pressing the muzzle of the
blaster harder against his skull,

"Shut down the alarms, and don’t try to do anything
foolish…If you would like to test your reflexes against mine, I
would love to see you try." The guard nodded,

"Let me turn on the light." Fett reached his free arm and clicked the
light on. White light washed over the room, lighting the two figures
up.

"No need to." Fett said, lacking any emotion at all. The guard pulled
out a small device, and spoke in to it.

"Control, this is Capt. Va-Taraq, shut down the alarms," a muffled
voice protested over the comm, "Why? I thought Ramirez didn-"

"Don’t question me fool! Just do as I say!" the captain
said.

"As you wish." The other voice said. There was a loud chime, and then
the sound of all of the security alarms shutting down.

"Good," said Fett, "now, turn around very slowly." His orders
were followed with the guard spinning around quickly, throwing his fist
out to hit the bounty hunter, but Fett’s reflexes were far more
superior to the slower guard. He caught the guards fist, and held it so
tight, blood oozed from the guard’s hands. He flew the butt of his
blaster on to the Captain’s head, making him knocked out before he
hit the floor, he let out garbled moan, then lay silent.

"Should have followed my orders." Said Fett dryly. But the advice was
too late for the unconscious man.

Good, the security was disabled, and all Fett had to do, was make it
to the treasury room before Rameirez did.

The stub of a candle burned inadequately, as it stretched
Ramirez’s shadow long across the stone hallway, as he walked to
reach his beloved treasure room.

His gold laced robes and long dangling Krayt dragon encrusted
necklaces swished to and fro contentedly, his ring coated hands sat
gently behind his back. The night had been perfect for Master Ramirez;
his shining boots reflected their glory as he strode closer to his
treasury. Money was his wife, as he was its husband that was the only
thing that kept him going, along with his crime, house, and
security.

He heaved a deep sigh and smiled, tapping his most valued of all
treasures he possessed, his velvet purse, tied delicately with gold
rope.

He entered his chamber, only to realize the danger; Fett grabbed him
and threw him to the ground, just as he did with the unsuspecting guard.
Ramirez slammed against the floor, nearly having the wind knocked from
him, he tried to put his head up to look at the captor, but instead he
felt the cold muzzle of a blaster. He tried to scream, but

There was no sound heard, he saw his finest guards piled neatly and
out of sight in a dark corner. A sound sponge! Thought Rameirez,
his thoughts raced through him, Who could this villain,
be? He thought, beginning to sweat heavily. Finally, he turned his
head slightly enough to see his captor, Boba Fett! Ramirez
suddenly felt the horror.

Fett turned the sound sponge down. "Don’t be an idiot." Fett
said, tightening his grip on the blaster, "You-You don’t know what
you’re doing Fett!"

"Shut-up!" Fett shouted, "you have been wanted, I am here to collect
the bounty I am promised. Don’t try to be a hero, the security is
impaired, and I am free to use any methods necessary to complete my
mission, try anything, and you’ll be in a less conformable position
than you are in now." Fett spoke; his voice was loud, full of command.
Fett dug through the pockets of Ramirez with one hand, keeping the other
with the blaster. "I’ll be taking this." Ramirez heard the sinister
voice say; also feeling his purse slide from it’s proper position.
"Hey!" Ramirez protested, but before any thing else could be
done, he was knocked unconscious.

---

"You don’t know what you’re getting your self in to," said
Ramirez on the other side of the holding cage duasteel bars. The rich
man went from his elaborate dressings to rags clinging desperately to
his body. Shook his head sarcastically, and smiled. "I sure
wouldn’t want to be in your boots right now."

"Don’t worry about that," replied Boba Fett, he came down to his
cargo hold, resting his work in the cockpit to see how Ramirez was
doing. "You’re quite secure," Fett continued aloud, "I’m the
winner, and you are the loser. I’m going to get paid, and you get
what ever Viktoria has in store for you." Which most likely was not
going to be pleasant. Though didn’t give Fett any care at all-once
Fett got paid, care for his quarry ceased.

"You really think so?" The handsome smile on Ramirez’s
face turned in to an ugly smirk. "This galaxy’s overflowing with
surprises, there might be one just savoring for you." Fett
ignored his useless warning, although he did have a point. The galaxy
was just swimming with lies and betrayal.

Fett gazed at his quarry, he no longer seen them as a human being,
but just merchandise to be delivered.

"I wouldn’t trust that Viktoria, she’s not who you think
she is…Ever hear of Constantine?" Ramirez said, pressing
himself against the bars. "I trust no one. Yes, I have heard of him-you
recently done business with him." Fett said, lacking any emotion at all.
Fett walked over to the bars, he knew Ramirez wouldn’t try anything
stupid. Even if he did, Fett would have him on the floor before
Ramirez’s reflexes could react.

"You can stop while you’re ahead bounty hunter."
Ramirez’s smile looked uglier.

He wants me to think he knows something I don’t. "How do
you mean?" Fett asked, his voice lowering into almost a growl. Ramirez
laughed loudly, "Oh come on Fett! I’m a smart barve; I read stuff
about Constantine. He’s got his own agenda; while he’s dealing
with you, he’ll be off planing an attack on you-it’s just his
nature. If you read ancient scriptures, he’s just as potent as
Palpatine; there’s no difference. There would be only one solution
for you to prevent such danger to your self."

"Which is?"

"Surrender, you better take my advice, I’ve dealt with
this fellow before, and the only reason he wants me is that he
doesn’t want me to exploit his secrets." Fett chuckled,
"Surrender is for cowards. I don’t believe in superstitious
scriptures. They’re a bunch of ludicrous "

"Fine, but he’ll set you up, and when you don’t know how to
run, the only alternative his in your death." Ramirez almost laughed at
the thought; "let me help you-"

"Silence!" Fett ordered.

He really thinks he knows what he’s doing Ramirez mused.
"Fine, but you don’t know what you’re doing."

"I know plenty of my doing Ramirez."

"If I were you, I’d stop while I have the chance." Fett’s
voiced angered,

"First, you’re not me, and second, you brought your
warrant upon yourself, live with it." Fett began to head up back up to
the cockpit, grabbing a rung of the ladder, Ramirez shouted,
"You’re gonna be wrong, and I’m going to see it!" Fett ignored
him, and went up the ladder.

---

Later that evening, Fett sat in the darkness of the Nomad’s
room, holding a gun to Rameirez. They both sat in silence and
darkness. "This is your last chance." Ramirez whispered. Fett ignored it
and heard a slight knock at his door; Fett just stayed silent, until he
heard a low soothing voice, of a woman. "Boba…. It’s Viktoria,
I trust you made it back alive? You’ve done well Boba. Come with
me, and bring Ramirez. It’s time for the payment you’ve been
promised...There is someone I’d like you to meet"

Fett opened the door, to see Viktoria standing there, her dark brown
hair cascading down her emerald green cloak, her lips full, and soft.
Her eyes dark, and full of expression.

Fett nodded, lugging the beat up Ramirez behind him.

 

Fett stood silently in the darkness of the lair of who ever wanted to
meet him, keeping Ramirez kneeled on the floor, with his boot between
the shoulder blades. Ramirez gazed down on the floor, not able to
withstand the sight around him. Viktoria stood by the candlelight
looking at the doorway, which their host was to enter.

Fett stood like a soldier awaiting order when and old man
entered.

The hermit donned in simple robes. His facial features were angular
and prominent, covered in wrinkles, he held a suspicious sneer that Fett
found repulsive. His eyes were dark, inky as the night sky. His nose
stubby and round. He carried a bottle and several glasses with him.

"Please sit Mr.Fett, thank you. A refreshment Mr. Fett? I’m in
the possession of a superior brandy, which has the most…restorative
affect." He spoke in a raspy tone, his voice loud and deep.

"I prefer my payment in cash not liquor Mr…." Fett’s
words were flat and unemotional. "My apologies," the old man eyed him,
like a gardener checking a fruit for ripeness.

Fett slouched in the comfy chair offered him. In the darkness, only
his arm, leg, and his helmet could be seen, a hand resting lightly under
his chin, concealed behind his helmet.

Viktoria exchanged glances between the elder and the galaxy’s
best bounty hunter, her face giving a slight smile.

"I’ve been watching you Mr. Fett, so closely I’ve forgotten
we haven’t actually met yet…I am Constantine."
Constantine’s face formed an ugly smile, stretching to look like a
jagged tear in place of it.

Fett’s voice, as cold as it was, had a hint of a confusion, "All
this time I thought you were to pay me…You’ve brought me here
to kill me?"

Ramirez snickered, thinking of what Fett was assuming. He didn’t
bother to look over; he kicked him back in between the shoulder blades,
sending him to the wooden floor. "Stow it." Fett whispered, just enough
for Ramirez to overhear.

" But you have it all wrong Mr. Fett, would it surprise you to know
that it was I who was the one who hired to retrieve Ramirez." He
motioned over to the figure, balled on his knees, staring at the floor.
Then looked at the serene sitting bounty hunter. Viktoria positioned her
arms across her breast.

"Yes." Constantine’s deep voice rumbled, "You see,
Viktoria and I are-" Viktoria cut him off, her eyes widening, raising an
eyebrow towards Fett.

"Old associates." She smiled; her thick long, brown hair shook with
the movement of her head.

"Yes." Again, Constantine’s was loud and ominous. "You
have been tested, do you understand? And I must say, you live quite well
up to your reputation; you are an extraordinary bounty hunter-"

"Testing me? What is it that you want from me
Constantine?"

"I am a collector Mr.Fett, items so rare and valuable, they are not
meant for purchase. They must be required using other needs. In this
case the item in question may be best acquired by bounty hunting, not
simple hunting, I need an artist, such as yourself."

"What exactly is this…item?" Fett was completely
interested in the subject. Viktoria leered.

"It is a gemstone known as the "All Seeing Eye" whoever is to
obtain it, will possess great power, far greater than the great Emperor
Palpatine…. It is known for it’s unusual-" Viktoria cut in
again with her sultry voice,

"Appearance."

"Yes." Constantine responded. "It is kept well hidden, and
concealed deep within the stone walls and hallows of the
Bo’omarr Monks, a cult that worships the Eye’s

powers and beliefs. But forgive me, you are possibly friendly with the
order of the Monks?" There was a brief pause, "No, fanatics make
unreliable friends." Fett said deeply. "Excellent!"
Constantine clapped his aged hands in approval. "I am offering ten
thousand upon receipt of the Eye."

"I don’t see how I can refuse such an offer."

"Wonderful, Viktoria can fill you on the particulars of the hunt, and
Mr. Fett, the purse, keep it, it’s yours, you have earned it."

Fett got up, shaking hands with the new employer.

"Hey! That rightfully belongs to me!" Ramirez remarked in
disapproval.

"And for you, my dear friend, I have some…important
dealings with you," he looked at Fett’s disappearing form, "Fett,
the contents, in the purse, may be useful in your quest." Fett nodded,
but kept walking.

"Wait Fett!" Ramirez shouted, Fett stopped, to see the frightened
Ramirez, in his undignified rags and torn pants for clothes. "What?" he
said.

"Constantine! Fett, if you do this job, then Constantine gets a hold
of this "Eye" he’ll rule the galaxy! Even your thoughts and
dreams!" Fett turned around at Viktoria and Constantine, " Don’t
try to plead your way out of this; it’s too late for anymore
useless bargaining…And another thing, I live with the galaxy the
way it is, no one can get into this mind until they kill me! I
don’t believe you." there was a spark of amusement in Fett’s
words, but he turned away, in to the star lit alleyways of Tatooine,
hearing a scream and then a moan behind him from the unfortunate soul.
Care for what ever was in store for the doomed Ramirez had ceased. Fett
disappeared in to the darkened streets; he needed rest before he left
for his quest.