#coauthor

And Tarkin had yet to deliver.

Instead, he’d demanded to meet in a private room away from prying eyes and ears. Boba remained silent - bored. To think, this is what these high ruling types found to be clandestine. They grossly limited themselves, and that’s what made them so predictable. At least they were smart enough to pay well.

“I appreciate your time. This…subject is of a more…delicate matter.”

Tarkin turned to face him, stiff and rigid in his pristine uniform - one thin brow raised.

If he was waiting for a verbal response, he’d die standing here. Boba merely shifted his weight from one foot to the other, keeping his blaster tucked securely against his arm. For such a patient hunter, he had a surprisingly short amount of patience for stupid, arrogant people. Even if they happened to be a client.

“This is a matter of security, though I’m certain you’re already aware.” Tarkin folded his arms behind his back, and Boba idly thought that the man more resembled a toothpick than a human.

Oh, the things he did for money and a reputation.

“What’s the job?” He finally spoke, knowing the man would spend another ten minutes peacocking unless the conversation was steered in the right direction.

Tarkin blinked, and Boba smiled beneath his helmet. No matter how frequent the client, few people didn’t fear him. Even if they pretended they didn’t.

The man had the audacity to look around the small, whitewashed room, despite the fact that they were completely alone. The nerve of some people - to think they were oh so important. When he looked back at Boba, a new weariness had settled in his icy blue eyes.

“My granddaughter has always been…weak. The sympathetic sort, if you take my meaning.” Tarkin picked a piece of lint off his sleeve with a sigh as if he was only discussing afternoon tea. “She ran away a few months ago, and she knows valuable intel. I have sources indicating that she’s defected, and so far she has killed all the men I sent after her.”

“You want me to bring her back?“ Boba wanted to roll his eyes. He wasn’t an errand boy for anyone, especially not an Imperial fool.

“On the contrary. I want you to silence her.”

Boba’s brow lifted behind his helmet, but he said nothing. Tarkin regarded him evenly before turning and walking to the window, staring out at the space beyond.

“She is family, and I grieve for this loss. But it must be done for the good of the Empire.” He glanced at Boba over his shoulder, as if to gauge his thoughts. “I trust this won’t be too difficult a task? I will pay handsomely.”

“Pay me what you owe from the last job, then we’ll negotiate.” Boba didn’t move, he merely lowered his voice just enough to get his point across.

“Of course,” Tarkin dipped his head in acknowledgement, gesturing to a table at the side of the room with the flourish of a gloved hand. “All of your credits are there, of course. Additionally…a bonus, as a thank you for taking this job.”

“I don’t need your thanks. I need details.” Boba holstered his blaster, tilting his head slightly to the side. “Tell me everything about her. If I’m to hunt her down, tell me how she thinks.”

“I’ll tell you what I know, but this must remain between you and I. No one else will hear of this.” Tarkin’s expression turned harsh, but Boba merely watched him, unfazed. “Do I make myself clear?”

And so Boba Fett simply nodded.

“As you wish.”

Silence hovered between them, heavy and ominous. Boba made to move to break that silence, simply waiting. Tarkin cleared his throat before directing his gaze at Boba’s visor.

“She’s always been a very headstrong girl - quite opinionated, always causing a stir in the family. Before she left there was an…incident. Our fleet was attacked by rebels that led to an insignificant amount of casualties. But Kaia…she was inconsolable, yelled at me that it was my fault. I don’t even know what exactly she was referring to. I sent her to her quarters, and she deserted the same night. We found a TIE fighter missing the next morning, with several troopers down.” Tarkin shook his head, his facial expression remaining stoic. “I sent my best men after her, several hunters as well. They were all found dead.”

Ahh, so more family politics. Boba rolled his eyes but didn’t relay any of this to Tarkin. If it paid well, he’d get it done. In this line of work, one could only be so picky.

“Where was she last?” Boba slowly crossed his arms with a soft sigh.

Tracking an inexperienced Imperial woman who was most likely emotional and naïve? He’d be back within three days, at the most. Tarkin would have this little familial squabble fixed, and Boba would be able to move on to more…interesting work. But still…he’d give this his full attention. He’d make it quick, and then he’d be gone. Simple.

Tarkin lifted his datapad into his thin hands and turned on a holomap of the Galaxy, pointing at a region on the Outer Rim.

“We were able to track the TIE fighter to Nar Shaddaa, from there my people hunted her down for several weeks. From Nar Shaddaa to Teth, then to Tatooine and Savareen. Her trail disappeared until a week ago, when we got the intel that she has been seen fighting a bounty hunter on Wrea.” His brows furrowed, thin lips twisting into a distasteful frown. He placed a hand on his chin, peering at the map with a sigh. “With the proper amount of credits she could have traveled across the Galaxy by now…but these records indicate that she probably has just enough money for short travels, and there are only so many planets near Wrea she could have gone to. It shouldn’t be too difficult to track her down.”

“I’ll get it done.” Boba took the tracking fob Tarkin gave him, then turned on his heels and left without as much as a goodbye.

He didn’t owe anyone formalities, especially not an Imperial fool. He had a job to do.

-

Shimia was an insignificant planet - mainly covered by green plains and thick forests. The native species, the Pacithhip, lived in their tribes across the land, but it was otherwise uninhabited.

And that made it the perfect place for a bounty to hide.

Boba had to admit that the woman at least knew how to cover her trail. He’d found telltale signs of her route, of course, but the trace elements had been faint - things a lesser hunter would have overlooked. But he wasn’t a lesser hunter.

He tracked her much further into the forest then he’d expected an Imperial woman to traverse. He’d encountered his fair share, and wasn’t impressed. They’d all been so stiff, rigid…boring. At least this one was making things interesting. He hadn’t expected one of Tarkin’s lineage to know how to survive in this rugged terrain.

But people would often push their limits when desperate. Sometimes it made them careless. And sometimes it meant Boba actually had a worthy hunt.

A sharp, cutting wind whipped through the trees, and he looked up to the darkening sky with a small frown. A storm was building…he could feel it. His quarry would likely try to hide, and if not, she’d at least be slowed down by the weather. Easier to catch up to. He made his way up an incline, keeping an eye out for further signs of movement, knowing he couldn’t be too far behind her now.

The trees rocked in the gale, branches creaking, and Boba pressed on unfazed. He had plenty of experience tracking his quarry in terrible conditions, as if they thought that would save them. He crested a steep hill and looked down at the swath of land below, running a thermal scan. Nothing…yet. He dropped his rangefinder and scanned ahead, brow lifting when he noticed some small buildings in the distance.

He raised the rangefinder and made his way down the hill toward the clearing, keeping his thermal scanner on. He was close. He could feel it.

The moment he entered the clearing, he picked up a heat signature, and smiled wryly, more out of relief that this was almost over then any true source of humor.

Gotcha.

The huts were small, thatched things…barely big enough to hold a person. Whether they were abandoned homes or storage units of some kind, he didn’t know, and didn’t care. He wouldn’t be here long.

Rain began to fall, pattering on his helmet and beading on his beskar. He continued onward, even as the pattering shifted to a downpour, and noted that the heat signature was coming from the last hut to the left.

He knew at this point to not underestimate anyone. No matter who they were. He had no idea what this woman would do, backed into a corner - and if she really had killed every Imperial dog sent to kill her, he would approach with caution.

But when he stepped toward the hut, he heard a pained scream break the silence - the sound coming from within. He frowned, scanning for additional life sources, but still only saw one. Was she already hurt? Dying? Kriff, he had to hurry. He had to be the one to end her, because he wanted to be true to his word, regardless of the job.