#Firespray-31

[alphamecha-mkii]

Star Wars: Book of Boba Fett - Chapter 4 Concept Art by Ryan Church

[atelier-dayz]

WIP Wednesday - beach vacation verse

The next part of this verse is going to be called "a difficult, eternally hopeful thing." It's going to be very long I think :/

Jango’s ship is a Firespray-31, painted in duty green and the red of honoring a parent, visible even through the rain. Jango’s armor, directly in Obi-wan’s line of sight as Jango leads the way, consists of unpainted silver with blue trim. Seeing those colors together makes Obi-wan’s heart ache, now knowing Jango’s true identity. “See if you can get in contact with him from here,” Jango says once they’re inside the ship, pointing to the terminal at the front of the main passenger deck. “R4 should be able to hook up to the terminal. Passcode Arla Ramza.” That name means something, Obi-wan realizes, though Jango doesn’t show it in his body language or Force presence and Obi-wan doesn’t know exactly what. They had had time to catch up, but not so deeply. R4 beeps from where she’s already docked by the terminal, bringing his attention back to the present. He saves the question for Jango for later, stepping up to the terminal. “He should be on Naboo,” he says as he enters Anakin’s comm code. Jango comes up behind him and gently pulls off his soggy outer robes, trading them for a warm towel. He squeezes Jango’s hand in thanks. “He should be on Naboo,” Jango remarks, “but knowing your kid…” Obi-wan is not surprised but no less concerned when Anakin doesn’t pick up. He sighs, because just like Jango, he has a suspicion that Anakin isn’t on Naboo. “R4, can you triangulate Anakin’s location?” Obi-wan asks. “Start with Naboo but go wider if needed.” He watches as R4 performs the search, planets flying by as she moves further and further away from Naboo before stopping on— “Tatooine? What in the blazes is he doing there?” “That dustball? Nothing good, probably.”

They're sure going to wish it had been something good ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

[nightmarefuele]

friendly reminder: you are wonderful. you’re a wonderful writer. you’re wonderful just for being you. personally, i think you are a star! luminous! quite possibly made of plasma!

I seldom know how to identify with compliments from literary gods and genius-level intellectuals, so here *snaps down the projector screen* is instead a list of reasons why my Special K is both of those things:

Words such as vaudevillian, highfalutin, "jelly fronds," harbinger, "arachnid bodice" — and, of course, Valdrada. *exquisite belongs here, too, if even honorarily.

Lines including but not limited to: "TryIjustsnortedalumpofuckin'dryice," "Tender. Bleeding. Heart,” '...pinned each one down like butterfly wings,' 'Coming into his purpose, coming along wonderfully,' 'A woman in a high bronze choker lowered a basket through the window of what once was a Firespray-31-class attack craft and was now a steeple,' and, lastly: "Reallyritzyfuckingtown."

Superior music cache (see Didgeridoo, Django Django, and other quirky titles; there's also Forever Dliating Eye, Rival Consoles, a really cool (unofficial) Blood Meridian soundtrack).

Can quote The Dark Knight (I once felt inclined to reblog that one anonymous ask-answer with quotes to all YOUR quotes. I did not do this *on account of sleep + lazy bones).

The Snoop Dogg GIF.

Cultured. ("NO HABLO ESPAÑOL, FELLAS?")

Like 30 BenRens, and fucking How, because they're all delicious. They're like Spotify ads, they never stop. (Unlike spotify ads, in that they don't make me want to waterboard myself.)

Witticism is their middle name (for both our sakes I will not be pulling quotes from Disco); K "Witticism" Sadilla.

And because (*okay sh shhshshsh*) I want to be genuine for just one second,

Truly, I am incomprehensibly lucky for having stumbled — aimlessly, purposelessly, without any expectation — on your haunt here. The amount of luck is abhorrent. It's more than the laughs we have or the words we write. I would not want to do This (gesticulating vaguely, but broadly) without You. Thank you for being the proteins to my lipids. (Plasma reference. Fingerguns.)

[copperforge]

People you want to know better

Tagged by @petepaintswarhammer

1. Three Ships: YT-1300fp light freighter, Dauntless, ARC-170

2. First Ever Ship: Modified Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft

3. Last Song: In Too Deep - SUM41

4. Last Movie: SW: Ep III

5. Currently Reading: Rules and Unit Cards for Star Wars Legion

6. Currently Watching: Bad Batch

7. Currently Consuming: Monster Energy Mango

8. Currently Craving: mhmmm, more time for painting..

Tagging @inqorporeal @deathshead13 @kjangsta

[atelierfigurine]

Slave 1

Le redoutable Esclave I que pilote Jango Fett est un modèle unique, combinant des boucliers optimisés avec un armement aussi puissant que discret. A première vue, on croit reconnaître un vieux vaisseau de patrouille et d’attaque de classe Firespray-31, mais en regardant bien on découvre à bord toute une batterie d’équipements inquiétants. Jango, l’un des mercenaires les plus compétents de la…

[manyworldspress]

Ryan Church, concept art for Star Wars: The Book of Boba Fett, chapter 4 (January 19, 2022).

__________________________________________________ Our shop: https://bookshop.org/shop/manyworldspress

[hishgraphics]

A Kom’rk, a Firespray-31and a Lambda-class. Never thought I would see such a sight in a live action Star Wars show EVER. What planet is this, by the way?

[paralleltimelines]

Slave 1

[gameraboy2]

Firespray - 31 “SLAVE 1” by Shane Molina

[groundrunner100]

A Handful of My FAVORITE Star Wars Vehicles/Starships

N-1 Starfighter

Koro-2 All-Enviroment Exodrive Airspeeder

Firespray-31-Class Patrol & Attack Craft

Low Altitude Assault Transport/Infantry Gunship

Eta-2 Actis-Class Interceptor

Aggressive ReConnaissance - 170 Starfighter

TSMEU-6 Personal Wheel Bike

HAVw A6 Juggernaut

All Terrain Recon Transport

M-68 Landspeeder

[alphamecha-mkii]

Star Wars: Starships of the Galaxy - Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft

[stormkobra-5]

What even are human brains.

Like, me, for college, doing a math page: 98 x 2

Me: uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Also me: Jango Fett uses 2 WESTAR-34 blaster pistols, Boba Fett uses an EE3-carbine rifle, the Slave is a modified prototype of the Firespray-31 class, I can recite the Mandalorian Creed, I can tell you most things about Poe Dameron and the differences between T-65, T-70, and T-85 x-wings, I can also list like a dozen planets and their habitats + local natives, I know the plot of the sequel trilogy by heart and in this essay I shall—

[nimata-beroya]

I know it's said that Boba's ship got renamed but I don't think it really was. I mean, according to wookiepedia (not the most reliable of sources, i know), Slave 1 is a Firespray-31-class patrol and attack craft, so it's like calling Din's Razor Crest, Razor Crest. Sure, Mando didn't gave her a proper name because like him, he wanted it to be as generic as possible.

So, when Boba said to Fennec that he wanted to get back his Firespray gunship, I think he was using that name in the same way. At least that's my headcanon. Because renaming the ship after 40 years it's absurd to me. But what the kark I know right 🙃

[ironhoshi]

Hey, hey, hey~! I don't know how it happened, but somehow I looked at my follower number and, uh, 700? There are 700 of you out there that have decided to put up with my chaos and I AM TOUCHED! Excuse me while I get emotional for a moment. I started writing fic almost a year ago and it has been a thrilling experience. I have met so many awesome people! This journey has been great and is nowhere near done. Here is to another year of writing and interacting with all of you!!!!

Now, as a present, I have created a one-shot story to celebrate my happiness. Things are still hectic in my life, but this wanted to be written. SO HERE YA ALL GO!

Characters: Boba Fett, Cal Kestis, and Ezra Bridger

Ship: Kesett (I mean...I had to?)

Rating: general (canon typical violence!)

Under the readmore~!

There were two ships, parked side by side out in the canyon, and that was weird. Though he mused while peering through his stolen scope, it was a smart move if they were smugglers. Hidden and out of the way.

Yeah, smugglers or not, he could probably either sell them some of the stuff he had lifted from the Imps or he could just lighten their cargo by questionable means. He had to live and they could just buy more. It would be fine. Ezra lowered the scope and smirked slightly. He had a good feeling about this. He scrambled up from his spot on the ledge while a plan started to formulate in his mind.

It would honestly be easier to just borrow some of their cargo first, then when they were freaking out he could saunter down with some supplies to sell. Haggle the prices higher. Yeah. Good plan. No one thought kids were good at bargaining, but he was. He had lots of practice.

That was exactly why he found himself crawling behind some boulders all so he could get closer to the Firespray-31. The thing clearly had been upgraded, but totally needed a fresh coat of paint or five. Whatever. He just needed to slice past what were probably weak defenses and grab some stuff.

"Easy as catching a loth cat," he muttered before scrambling up so he could bolt towards an access panel. He had waited until he witnessed everyone leave, probably to head to town. Maybe they were going to steal stuff? Yeah, they deserved him swindling them. Anyone that stole from the people of Lothal deserved this.

"Heck, they could be bounty hunters," he said out loud just before prying the access panel free. "Probably up to no good. Honestly? This is mild compared to what I should be doing." His fingers moved quickly while he reworked some of the wiring. Just needed to put the blue one-

A trill informed him that he wanted the green wire. Oh! Right.

He moved the green wire into the yellow port and turned to smile at the small droid that had helped him. "Hey, thanks! Wait a second-" A startled yelp escaped him when he felt a weight at the back of his collar and then his feet were dangling above the ground.

"Looks like I owe you some credits, kid," a gruff voice remarked in what he assumed was amusement. Ezra flailed, attempting to swing his arms behind him to knock the hand holding him free.

"You might get away with calling Cal that, but I am not against removing a limb from you," the modulated voice behind him said. Oh, great. Someone in a helmet had him.

"Boba," another voice called out. Ezra frowned thanks to the strange feeling that washed over him for a mere second. That… that was new and he didn't have time to worry about it. "You owe me too. Now put our guest down before Merrin sees you."

A sound of panic escaped him when he was abruptly dropped. He landed rather ungracefully, his rear smarting from the impact. "Ow, hey! You could have just not dropped me!"

"Mouthy thing. You are either gutsy or just a di'kut-"

"Boba!"

The droid chortled before launching itself at the person stepping out of the shadows of the ship. Red hair, ugly poncho, a smirk. His eyes focused on the scars on that face for a moment and then he was staring into eyes full of mirth. This whole situation was weird. In his eleven years on Lothal, he had never been so confused. Why was this all a giant joke for these people?

"I don't know who you are, but if you mess with me- my Uncle, the-" A loud snort escaped the armored person. Ezra frowned and shot them the best glare he could drum up.

"We aren't going to mess with you. I'm Cal, that's Boba, and that's Greez. This little guy is Beedee." A gloved hand patted the droid like it was a loth cat or something. Why were they giving their names so easily?

"Jabba the Hutt," he blurted out.

The whole area went silent for a moment and then suddenly everyone was laughing.

"Alright, Jabba, come on. Greez almost had food ready before you decided to try to break into the wrong ship," Cal said with a smile.

Wrong ship?

There was a right ship to break into?

"I wasn't-"

"Sure, kid, you were just overriding the ramp controls for no reason," the helmet drawled out.

"Is that what I was doing?" He could sense not a single person in the group bought his sudden act of innocence.

Somehow, despite trying to duck away a few times, he found himself sitting at a table with the strangers. They were inside the S-161 "Stinger" XL luxury yacht, which showed signs of a few battles. He chewed slightly on the tines of the spork while he tried to find every escape route he could from his seat between Boba and Cal. The sudden hiss of a seal breaking had him glancing up at the helmet- except the helmet was being removed. Dark hair was braided back tight on the top to a knot while the sides were extremely short. A sneer appeared on Boba's face. Oh, he had been caught staring.

"I'm too old for you, kid."

What? No! Gross!

Cal choked on his drink and reached over Ezra's head to smack the back of Boba's head. Greez merely sighed while slamming a plate of nerf steaks down in front of them.

"Cut it out. You know how I feel about fighting at my table. I tell you, I try to have a nice ship, but you two just want to ruin her."

An echo of apologies and then someone was shoving a plate of meat and root vegetables in front of him. Ezra raised an eyebrow. He didn't trust it. With great care, he poked the meat with the spork. It certainly acted like freshly cooked food… his stomach reminded him just how hungry he was when it did an impressive mimicry of a loth wolf. No one said a word, but Cal did nudge him slightly. He frowned. This was some sort of trick. It had to be.

"Just kriffing eat it," Boba finally ground out. "We aren't trying to kill you!"

Ezra blinked and opened his mouth to argue, but found a spork shoved into his mouth. Creamy root vegetables invaded his tastebuds. Kinda salty, but there was also a heat he was unaccustomed to. He chewed angrily while Cal sighed.

"Boba, you are the worst." The affection that coated those words made him want to gag, but he didn't want to waste the food in his mouth. It was good.

"Never said I was nice," came the rebuttal.

A sort of silence fell while they all ate. A few words when someone wanted more of something, but otherwise no one tried to fill the silence with useless chatter. Ezra felt a sort of gnawing in his chest. More. He wanted more of this. His grip tightened on the handle of his spork while he wished he could spend more meals with his actual parents. Were they eating well? Were they even still alive? This- this moment wouldn't last. These weirdos would leave and he'd just be… stuck.

It was fine.

He would be fine.

An arm suddenly went around his shoulders and he jumped in surprise. Cal was looking down at him with sadness etched into his features. Ezra blinked. Why did his eyes sting suddenly?

"Hey, it's okay."

"Shut up, of course, it is," he snapped before turning his attention back to his half-finished meal. He so wasn't going to talk about his feelings. He was going to eat his nerf steak and that was that.

Greez cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, how long we planetside this time? I mean you going to finish the repairs fast or…"

The arm around his shoulders tightened slightly. "As long as Cere and Merrin can get the part… we should be gone within the cycle. This place is even more controlled than I thought, the intel was a little out of date. Looks like the factory here is fully operational…"

"We could blow it up," Boba suggested so calmly that Ezra wasn't sure he had heard right at first.

"...there are civilians working there," Cal countered. "We'd need a way to get them all out before you play with your toys."

Wait. What?

He glanced between them with wide eyes. They wanted to hurt the Empire?

"I could help!" No one paid attention to him.

"We do it at night. You can wave your hand and do your thing-"

"Really? You know that's not how it works-"

"I can help," he tried again.

"We could do it tonight," Boba said with a shrug. "A few well-placed bombs and then-" He slapped a hand down on the table hard enough that a few utensils danced erratically. Ezra caught his cup before it could tip over. "I'll take the kid with me. He can help set the bombs."

"Now hang on a second," Cal began to protest.

"Yes," Ezra blurted out. "I can fit in the vents!"

Boba grinned and pointed at Ezra as if that somehow explained something. Ezra had no idea what, but Cal sighed before nodding in a sort of resigned way.

"Fine. I'll let Cere know. Greez, you and Merrin are going to have to do the repairs so we can make a quick getaway."

"Why can't we ever just land on a planet and not cause a scene?" Greez threw his hands up in disgust. "We don't have any more room, plus the kid looks like trouble-"

"It's fine. I have room," Boba said. "This would hardly be the worst stray we've picked up. Remember the nexu kit?"

What?

What stray?

"That was one time!" Cal actually sounded defensive for some reason. "Besides, it is up to Jabba."

What was up to him? He blinked in confusion before pointing the spork he was holding at himself. The conversation was like farming. Awful and confusing.

"So what about it, kid? You wanna join our crew? We travel a lot." Boba raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a look.

Had he heard wrong? There was no way. "But… I tried to break into your ship-"

"Oh, so you admit it!" Boba sounded amused.

"-and Jabba isn't even my real name!"

"You don't say." That remark was from Cal and laced with amusement as well. They were making fun of him, somehow, he was sure of it.

"Why would you want me?"

"I've got a good feeling," Cal said. Beedee trilled their agreement.

"I've learned to listen to Cal's feelings." Ezra gave Boba a weird look. All of them were strange! Super strange. What had he gotten himself into?

The discussion, the confusing discussion, was pushed aside for a later time. They had a bombing to plan. It made his head spin with how fast they jumped from one topic to the next.

Turned out they sucked at planning, or at least he thought so. Not that he did much actual planning in his life. He was a bit more of an in-the-moment type of person. That had served him well so far, well, not counting today. Cal was more of a go with the flow and Boba wanted each detail planned out. Ezra was honestly impressed they even made it to the facility by nightfall. He had sort of thought this whole thing was going to fall apart before it even started. Yet, here he was, crouched down next to Boba.

"How do I get cool armor like that?" he blurted out. The helmet swiveled towards him and he just knew Boba was giving him a look. "What? It's just a question," he grumbled in his own defense.

"Kid, you haven't even told me your real name. What makes you think I'm gonna tell you things?"

Okay. Yeah, that was fair.

His thoughts were still on the helmet as he pried a vent cover free. He wanted one. Shame they were nice, otherwise, he wouldn't think twice about trying to steal the thing. He sighed before starting to crawl through the vents. His part was simple. Drop down inside and slice the door controls. He just had to let Cal in and then head somewhere safe.

Easy.

Except…

Nothing ever went his way.

Slicing the door had been easy, getting it open easier, and then a feeling of wrongness hit him. Cold and unnatural-

"Jabba," Cal yelled while running through the now open door. "Get back to Boba!" The next second Cal was yanking a cylinder free from underneath his poncho. A sort of snapping sound and then a loud crackling filled his senses. Ezra could only stare at the blade of light in awe. "Jabba," Cal bit out. "Move!"

And then there was another sound and a red glow washed over the space.

Fear.

He had never felt so afraid in his life.

There was something wrong with the person that stepped forward. Cracked, pale flesh, and burning eyes. Ezra knew he was going to have nightmares.

"No, Jabba, stay. You can die while I capture your Master." The voice tore at his mind. Cruel and violent.

Also, what Master?

Cal spun the light blade and then a second one appeared on the other side of the cylinder. "Your fight is with me. The kid has nothing to do with this."

"Tsk. Don't lie, Kestis. Your true Master would be so upset to learn you are trying to start training others. You know how he covets his things. He despises sharing," the voice was taunting and then the room seemed to explode in orange and red. The blades clashed with a screech. Beedee hopped off Cal and rushed towards him, chattering the whole way.

He was so confused!

"As I've told Vader before; no thanks, I'm good." Cal did something and suddenly the single double blade was two separate ones. They were a blur of movement, harsh colors slicing through the air around them. Ezra didn't think twice about picking BeeDee up. He needed to run...but would Cal be okay? He barely knew the other, and yet, he was concerned. The guy was nice. It would blow if a nice person died!

BeeDee whistled something and he blinked. Oh, right, he still had a charge on him! Perfect idea. Ezra made a run for it, towards a large pile of durasteel beams. He just needed to put it in the perfect spot. BeeDee leaped out of his arms and climbed the pile. A low beep and then the droid was calling out an opening. He moved, squirming and squeezing his way into the tight space. There were probably going to be a few abrasions on him, but that was fine. He’d had worse. He fumbled with the charge, nearly dropping it a couple of times, but somehow managed to stick it to a spot that felt right. He could do this. The sound of those blades colliding together over and over reminded him of two storms meeting over the prairie. Deadly. He struggled to get back out and he popped free with a yell just as a boot connected with Cal's chest. The red-haired man stumbled backward while the cold one grinned.

A mouthful of predator's teeth.

They wanted to tear into his soul.

Ezra didn’t think, no, he just moved. He ran forward, somehow ducking just as a blade sailed through where his head had been. Twist now! He surged up and rammed his shoulder straight into the creep’s gut. Cold anger slammed into him and then a hand was grabbing a fistful of the back of his jacket. He felt himself being yanked backward while Cal swore loudly. The gloved hand was thrown out and then the craziest thing happened- the pale man seemed to be knocked backward by a strong wind. He didn’t have time to marvel thanks to Cal tossing him towards the open doorway.

BeeDee screamed out an order.

He slammed his finger down on the detonator. The explosion was instant and he started to curl up to make himself a smaller target. He never finished, arms were suddenly around his waist. More explosions rocked the area, but he could only watch in fascination. Cal was doing something, ripping chunks of machinery from the area around them somehow. Those twisted and bent shining objects flew one after another into the inferno growing inside the factory.

“You are so grounded,” the modulated voice of Boba informed him loudly.

Grounded?

Hey, no, they weren’t his parents!

He opened his mouth to protest, but instead of words, a large whoop of excitement left him when he found himself flying. Boba had an actual working jetpack? That was beyond cool! Wait, what about Cal? He glanced down at the shrinking factory in time to see a streak of red running after them. Not the terrifying cold type of red, but the type of red that made him think of comfort.

Oh.

Kriff.

He was getting attached.

That wasn’t good. They were going to leave him. That offer to join the crew was just some joke. There was no way they actually wanted him around. Those thoughts weighed his mind down, ruining his chance to enjoy the sensation of flight, the whole way back to the hidden ships. He didn’t say a word as Boba set him down in a cargo hold and he didn’t say a word as he got the word lashing of a lifetime. The words, well, they just sort of washed over him. His mind was far too focused on what would come next to honestly hear the concern.

“Stay here,” came the order, and then he was alone.

The ramp slammed shut and he could hear the engines firing up. His balance shifted, causing him to stumble, and he found himself rushing to strap himself into a jumper seat.

What was going on?

His fingers tightened around the safety harness keeping him in place while the ship whirred around him. Before he could even yell to see if Boba would tell him what was going on, well, the ramp opened midair. The roaring caused his ears to pop. Okay, that was really uncomfortable. He made a face, scrunching his nose in annoyance. This whole day was just not going his way.

Then it happened.

His mouth fell open in pure surprise when Cal appeared on the ramp, BeeDee clinging to him. There was no way the ship was that close to the ground! He started to fumble with the buckles of the harness to free himself. He had to see for himself! Before he could get himself unbuckled Cal was hitting the controls to shut the door. Ezra froze. Oh, kark, the look Cal was giving him was very much not impressed. Why did he feel guilty?

“We are going to talk later.”

Yeah, that definitely didn’t sound good.

BeeDee whistled happily just before Cal vanished towards the cockpit.

“Wait,” he yelled out. “You still have to drop me off-”

And then his stomach lurched oddly. He winced as the nerf steak tried to make a return.

“Hold tight,” Boba’s voice drifted back towards him. “Time to make a fast getaway.”

What was even going on? Ezra squeezed his eyes shut and sent a thought to the stars. Here was hoping they all didn’t die in some crazy space battle- wait, space battle? No, he was too young to get involved in one of those!

It felt like years passed while he waited for someone to come back and tell him it was okay to move. By the time Boba came back to check on him, he had started counting the holes in the grating of the floor.

"Kid," Boba said softly. "We have to wait a bit before I can go back to Lothal. Do you need to comm anyone?"

Ezra frowned and then shrugged. "No one to comm." He wasn't lying. His parents were gone.

Boba frowned for a second before crouching down in front of him. Concern swirled in those eyes. Ezra averted his gaze. He wasn't sure why he did, all he knew was that it made him feel strange. Not quite uncomfortable. Just strange.

"You can stay with us. If you want. We can make frequent trips back to Lothal or we can never come back. Your call, Jabba."

"...Ezra." His voice was barely above a whisper and he wasn't even sure if Boba heard him.

"What was that?"

Yeah, hadn't heard him.

"My name… it's Ezra." A brilliant smile erupted on Boba's face. Ezra flushed in confusion. Why the reaction? He had just said his name! It wasn't something special.

"Well, Ezra, before Cal comes back here and chews you out for your stunt in the factory-"

"I saved his life!"

"-you did, but you put yourself in danger. Not the point right now." Boba waved a hand through the air as if brushing away words. "If you've got nowhere to go, I'll be happy to take you on. Me and Cal. We work with the Mantis crew a lot...so you'd have a family between the lot of us. If you want."

Family.

They weren't actually just going to leave him?

It started as a stinging, a burning in his eyes. His sinuses started to get a weird prickly sensation inside. He sniffed once, twice, and then to his horror some tears escaped his eyes.

"Hey, hey, it's okay." Boba moved quickly to undo the safety harness. Ezra tumbled into his embrace, arms going around his neck. The next words that left Boba’s mouth were unknown to him, but felt comforting anyway. He tightened his arms while he let hot tears fall.

Ezra Bridger had a place to belong if he wanted and that meant the whole galaxy to him.

“Only until I get bored of you,” he managed to finally say. Boba burst out laughing and shifted just enough to press their foreheads together.

“Of course, ad’ika. Just until you get bored.”

[parjiljehavey]

this isn’t where we intended to be

A/N: Because we don’t know the details of how Boba survived the Sarlacc, I hand waved it. Am I shamelessly blending Legends into this? Yep. Don’t stop me now, I’m having a good time! 

I also forgot to mentioned that the titles are lyrics from You Must Love Me. Madonna or Lana Del Rey, both are valid and full of feels.

Tagging: @escapedthesarlacc​, @silverfish-kingdom​, @shadowfoxey​, @fresa-luna​

Rating: T for Teen

Content Warnings: Angst, Bad Spy/Military jargon and descriptions, Boba Is Pining, We got some Surprise Appearances at the end.

PREVIOUS // NEXT

ix.

The first thing the Imperials did after setting up their garrison was confiscate any weapons. They searched house by house, apartment by apartment. The only things they didn’t take were the kitchen knives. You were lucky enough that the panic room Boba built was hidden from almost every scanner imaginable, leaving the armory Boba had on this world unseized. 

Jekiah had chosen then to wail his little heart out from the bedroom, announcing his anger that his noon meal was being delayed to all who could hear. It took everything in you to not laugh when the stormtroopers and the scrawny little officer with them flinched. 

There was a diner around the corner from the apartment that you had started frequenting because you had became obsessed with their milkshakes during your pregnancy. The twi’lek that owned it was an older woman with long lekku she draped around her neck who carried herself in a way that you recognized. 

It was Sinya’s diner that the locals gathered in afterhours to discuss the Imperial occupation a month after the weapons has been taken. The blinds were shut, casting the room in near darkness except for the dim green glow of the menu signs.

Jekiah was strapped to your chest, content to sleep against your breast while voices rose when someone in the diner proposed fighting back against the Empire. A raucous arose as all attending agreed. 

Sinya spoke up, “We’ll need to run reconnaissance to get a better idea of their numbers and the heat they’re packing.”

You should have kept your mouth shut and your head down, if only for Jekiah’s sake. It’s what Boba would have wanted you to do; with few exceptions, when did you ever do what Boba wanted? 

“I can take care of that.” Heads turned and the crowd parted to stare at you, a woman with her baby. Sinya looked at you, and you looked at her. A tattooed brow was raised.

“You sure?” She gestured to Jekiah. 

You looked down at your son, rubbing your thumb over his dark downy hair. He nestled his face further against your breast, seeking out your heartbeat. 

“Yes. I am.”

x.

He had woken up with the gritty taste of sand in his mouth, his skin burning and itching, and his armor missing. Shab’la Jawas.

It was the Sand People, who had ultimately rescued him and tended to the wounds he’d gained from the Sarlacc. He wasn’t able to translate what they were saying without his buy’ce, but he was able to communicate enough with them with the sign language that any hunter worth their spit learned when they spent enough time chasing targets through the sands of Tatooine. 

He was given clothing and weapons once he was well enough to leave, and went on his way to begin the long trek back to Jabba’s palace. He had no doubt that anything that wasn’t nailed down had already been taken after news of the Hutt’s death had spread. Boba was confident that the Slave I was still where he had left it when he arrived. 

Sure enough, the Firespray-31 was still there. Usually, he’d lower the ramp through his HUD, however, lacking his armor, Boba had to use the security code. It hadn’t changed in decades; he had it memorized. Accessing the security logs, Boba cursed.

It’d been five months since he left you heavily pregnant in his safehouse. 

Fierfek.

xi.

A week after the meeting, you left Jekiah with your neighbor, two older women who had cooed over Jekiah ever since you’d come back from the medical center. Jekiah had learned how to cling to your shirt and had refused to let go, right up until a brightly colored nexu plush entered his field of vision. He’d been entranced with the neon pink toy and had let go easily after that. 

The Zabrak grinned, “One of our nephew’s old toys. He won’t miss it.”

Returning to the apartment, you opened the panic room. Weapons lined the wall, far out of reach of a child and a case held your gear. The armorweave long coat and pants you had once worn regularly were a little too tight across your belly and hips, but thankfully, you still had mobility. You could handle this small discomfort; it was nothing compared to the later stages of your pregnancy and Jekiah’s birth. 

You attached the stealth generator to your belt, making double sure it’d stay there with tape. Next went on your boots, and then your visor, followed by your gloves and gauntlets. 

The gloves had been a gift from Boba; “They’d been outlawed in the Mandalore system for centuries,” he had said, “but I figured you’d appreciate these in your arsenal.” 

Another gift had been the heavy, matte black gauntlets. The wristblade had utterly delighted you. You’d asked Boba what they were made of that made them so heavy. His answer had been beskar. It had taken you some time to learn how to fight with them on, something Boba had helped you with. You had ended up with more bruises than he had, some more pleasurable than others. 

An ache in your chest came up and a lump formed in your throat. You swallowed around it and pushed on. You had a job to do.

You ran a systems’ check twice, ensuring that your vitals read correctly and the targeting system was accurately linked to your rifle. Happy with the results, you activated the stealth generator, and made your way out of the apartment building entirely. You kept to the shadows of alleyways and near cover. 

Following a returning patrol, you infiltrated the Imperial garrison.

xii.

He’d elected to shave off the rest of his hair; most of it was already gone, the Sarlacc’s digestive acid killed the hair follicles. He inspected his wounds; no matter how primitive the Tuskens may be, they’d done a good job at patching him up. The wounds that were still healing he covered with a bacta-patch. 

It had been a difficult decision, but, Boba had chosen to pursue his missing armor. He knew you’d understand why he didn’t immediately return; it was his father’s armor. You’d be furious with him, more than likely banish him from bed, but you’d understand. 

It didn’t stop the guilt gnawing at his gut. 

It didn’t stop him from waking up expecting to feel his arm asleep from you laying on it to curl against his chest or feel your cold feet pressed against his legs. 

xiii.

Over the next two weeks, you infiltrated the garrison several more times gathering information on troop movements and supply routes. There was more than one garrison on the planet; as soon as news spread to the others, they’d be swarming like flies on a carcass. This was going to be a hard and dirty fight. 

You said as much at the next meeting in Sinya’s. 

“If we are going to do this, we're going to need more numbers than what we have.” 

A large Nikto stepped forward. “Mercenaries? Lady, we ain’t got the money for that!” 

Sinya was watching you from behind the counter. She nodded at you.

“Let me worry about the money. As soon as the mercenaries are planetside, start bringing the people from smaller towns and the farms inside.”

xiv.

Finding Sandcrawlers was easier from the air; it’d take months to traverse Tatooine on foot. He stopped in Mos Eisley, Mos Espa, and Anchorhead intermittently as he needed supplies and fuel. He picked up scrap metals to barter with the Jawas for information. This routine continued until a priority alert came across. 

Liberation from Imperial Garrison. Boba’s stomach sunk.

There was no thinking as he plotted a course back to the planet. No other thought as the Slave I gained altitude. 

Just you.

xv.

Sinya had had her pegged as a hunter as soon as she had first walked in months ago. She always looked around, noting exits and entries. Standard merc behavior, Sinya remembers doing that before she retired; Goddess, she still did it. 

The bump on her belly made Sinya decide she wasn’t a threat. The delight she took in the milkshakes was endearing. Sinya had made sure that every time she saw her on the way in, a milkshake was already being blended. Especially when she started coming in with her baby boy strapped to her chest. That baby was the grumpiest little thing Sinya had ever seen. 

It was nice, Sinya decided, once everyone had left after the woman had reported back on her findings and it was decided that they did need mercenaries, to talk shop with someone who knew their stuff. Sinya missed the merc life somedays. 

Sinya listed off every large mercenary company that she knew was still in existence. Even Black Sun. 

“No,” She shook her head. “If the Imperials offer more, they’d switch sides. Even if they didn’t, it’d be another battle to get them off. We’d be trading one for the other. That’s a risk we can’t afford. We need people who hate the Imperials just as much, if not more then we do.” 

Sinya's tattooed brows furrowed. “Who are you thinking of?”

The woman smiled.

bonus

xvi.

He heard a low whistle from somewhere in the Oyu’baat when a priority alert popped up on the bounty board. The bartender fiddled with a control panel, enlarging the alert so it overtook other listings. It got Shysa’s attention, the Mand’alor dropping his feet off his table as he stood up. Noise died down until the only sound was the boloball game.

100,000 credits for every Mandalorian that signed up for the liberation of a small world out in the Outer Rim from the Empire. A 10,000 credit bonus was being offered for every piece of artillery that was brought in. Payment would be given from stocks, proprieties, or cold hard cash, per the contractor’s preference.

Osik. That was a lot of credits for a small world to be offering. He wondered where they were getting that kind of money. And it was specifically requesting Mandalorians. 

Shysa clapped his hands together, drawing attention away from the board and to himself. He climbed up on top of his table looking out over the crowd of Mando’ade. 

“Well, vode. Who wants to go kick the Imperials shebs again?”

Cheers of Oya rang out and Mird’ika howled as he pulled on his fine, gray gloves. 

[brooksdsbf451]

Ask Me Anything: 10 Answers to Your Questions About the book of boba fett reaction

Boba Fett was actually an individual male criminal offense god as well as former bounty seeker whose star was book of boba fett occupation spanned years, coming<p> from the autumn of the Galactic Republic throughout of the regulation of the Galactic Realm. Actually code-named Alpha, he was actually an unaltered clone of the famous Mandalorian prize hunter Jango Fett who brought up the child as his child. Boba followed his dad and hereditary donor through putting on a tailored match of Mandalorian armor. His private starship was the Servant I, a Firespray-31-class patrol as well as assault designed that as soon as concerned Jango. Learnt fight and martial abilities from a youthful grow older, Fett was actually one of the very most dreaded bounty seekers in the universe in the course of the supremacy of Empress Palpatine. He ended up being a folklore over the course of his occupation, that included contracts for both the Empire and also the considerable criminal underworld. After living amongst the Tusken Raiders of Tatooine for an opportunity, he took control of as Daimyo of Mos Espa during the course of the period of the New State.Boba was developed on the extragalactic planet of Kamino due to an arrangement in between the Sith Lord Darth Tyranus and also Jango Fett, a Mandalorian foundling that worked as the template of the Grand Soldiers of the State. Unlike the clone cannon fodders increased from Jango's DNA, Jango regarded Boba as his son. Throughout the final times of the Separatist Situation, Boba as well as Jango pulled back to Geonosis where the latter was actually killed in struggle through Jedi Expert Mace Windu. Orphaned by Jango's fatality, Boba sought wrath through seeking to execute Windu, although his program proved unsuccessful. After offering opportunity in prison on Coruscant, Fett used up his late father brown's occupation as a fugitive hunter, operating together with other hirelings like Bossk, Dengar as well as Asajj Ventress, while additionally particularly apprenticing themself to his father brown's notorious quick protégée, Computer-aided-design Burden.In the upshot of the Duplicate Wars, Fett proceeded to bring in a name for himself while functioning for the mobster Jabba Desilijic Tiure as well as the Sith God Darth Vader. In the course of the journey, Fett quit on the moon of Nar Shaddaa in order to create sure Solo would survive his time in carbonite, yet he shed the smuggler while he was actually away as component of the return of the Crimson Sunrise, stopping off a battle between prize seekers for Solo.Fett attempted to prevent Solo's rescue by the Alliance to Restore the State, only to drop into the Great Pit of Carkoon when the smuggler inadvertently knocked a rod right into the bounty seeker's jetpack, creating it to malfunction. Complying with a time in the business of a Tusken tribe, Fett eventually restored his shield through tracking down as well as dealing with the Mandalorian warrior Boisterousness Djarin on Tython, who took Fett's armor coming from Vanth. Right now the head of his very own gotra, Fett meant to reign the regions of Mos Espa through succeeding the individuals's respect, though he would certainly encounter numerous significant problems to his setting owed to the two-facedness of mayor Mok Shaiz such as the Identical twins' offer for electrical power and the growth of the Pyke Organization's seasoning field.</p>