#oc: Jazz | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vodika-vibes · 1 year ago

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So you want to be a Bounty Hunter...

Chapter 1: In which Boba meets Jazz

Summary: Boba Fett has been the Daimyo of Tatooine for less than a year, and when the open air market starts getting targeted by a group of thieves, Boba is asked to investigate. What he finds changes his life forever.

Pairing: None

Word Count: 2298

Warnings: Mentions of Slavery, Mentions of Child Abuse

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: This is my NaNoWriMo story for 2023. Plus, this is my first time making a proper graphic for something I wrote, so any feedback on that would be appreciated, lol.

If someone had told Boba Fett 10, 20 years ago that someday he would be the ruler of Tatooine, and that he would put his bounty hunting on hold for the sake of the people he rules…he would have laughed in their faces.

And then probably shot them for good measure.

Even ten years ago, his plan was to live, and die, as a Bounty Hunter, like his father before him.

Honestly, it is a good thing that time travel isn’t real, because if it was then Boba would have to go back and punch the younger version of himself in the face, just out of principle.

Boba turns when he hears light footsteps approaching him from behind, “Are you ready to go? The Market opened an hour ago.” Fennec says as she folds her arms over her chest.

“I am,” He agrees as he pulls his helmet over his head, “Do you have any additional information for me?”

“No.” Fennec falls into step behind him, “All I know for sure is that someone, or a group of someones more likely, has been targeting people at the market. With luck, we’ll be able to catch who it is.”

“You have to admit,” Boba says as he heads down the hall to where the speeders are kept, “It’s ballsy. Hitting the same market, week after week.”

“And they’ve never been caught. So they’re good.” Fennec agrees. “Good enough to dodge the sharp eyed men and women at the market, at least.”

“Then we’d better get there and see what we can figure out, if anything.” Boba says decisively. He smirks, unnoticed, as Fennec immediately jumps into the driver’s seat as soon as they reach the garage.

The older woman might trust and respect Boba, but she refuses to let him drive ever again.

Fennec is a careful driver. Quick, yes, but she’s also very careful. Boba never asks her about it, though once, when she was drunk, she mentioned something about a speeder crash when she was a child. Though she pretended she never said anything like that.

And Boba respects her enough to not push.

After all, he has his own trauma that he’s never shared with anyone too.

The open air market on Tatooine has always been an event, though, with the death of Jabba and slavery becoming outlawed, the market has grown exponentially. And now has everything from handmade clothes, to homemade pastries, to art pieces.

There are even several stalls dedicated to tattoos and hair styling.

Boba enjoys the market every time he comes, the large majority of his tattoos have come from artists he’s met here, after all. Though he rarely buys anything from any of the merchants.

He leaves that to Fennec.

But they’re not here to shop today. Today they have work to do.

Work begins as soon as Boba steps out of the speeder and a haggard looking man hurries over, “Thank the force you’re here!” He blurts, “The thieves have already hit some of the stalls.”

“Which stalls have been hit?” Boba asks as Fennec steps to his side.

“The food stalls,” The man frets, “The thief, or thieves, stole food from several of the vendors, and then took the payment box from another one.”

“They only took money from one stall?” Fennec asks as she frowns.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

Boba releases a thoughtful hum, “I think we’ll walk around and see what, if anything, we can see.” He turns slightly, “Fennec?”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” She replies with a nod as she falls into step behind Boba, her sharp eyes scanning the crowds of people.

As they walk, Boba keeps a sharp eye out for anything suspicious. Or, well, anything that hints at a thieving group. He’s pretty sure that at least three of the stands that he’s passed are fronts for Spice Smuggling, and though he should do something about it, he just gets Fennec to make a note of them, to be handled at a different time.

His gaze is drawn to a group of children, of various different races, huddled on a street corner. They’re speaking softly, and they burst into giggles for a moment, and then they notice Boba’s attention, and they scatter into the crowds of people.

“Fennec,” Boba says quietly.

“Aa. I see them,” Fennec frowns, “You think the thieves are children?” She asks, as she watches a child hurry over to another one, and then the pair hurry over to a third.

“Would make sense, wouldn’t it?” Boba asks, “They’re easy to overlook due to their size, and-” His gaze lingers on a small twi’lek boy, “They’re very small.”

Unhealthily small, he means, though he doesn’t say it.

“They must have a ring leader.” Fennec replies, “An adult, probably, who forces them to steal for him…or her.” She scowls at the thought.

“Agreed,” Boba flickers his gaze around for a moment, “Get someplace high, and see if you can find a common location for these kids.”

Fennec nods, once, and turns into the crowd.

Boba gives her five minutes to find a nest, and then he continues his meandering path through the market. This time, keeping his gaze on the children he sees.

Some are at the market with their parents. Those children are appropriately dressed for the sun, and they’re clean and healthy looking.

The large majority of children he sees, though, are small and ragged looking. Many have angry looking sunburns, and they’re all filthy and covered in sand and dust.

“Remind me to secure funding for an orphanage.” Boba says over his helmet comm to Fennec.

“Maybe more than one.” Fennec counters sarcastically, “I’ve been keeping count of children, and there’s over two dozen.” She’s quiet for a moment, “Also, you have a shadow. Little girl, messy hair, beige tank top, at your six.”

“I see her.” Boba replies, “You think she’s going to try and pick my pocket?”

“I think she’s thinking about it.”

Boba chuckles and cuts the comm, and turns so he’s able to keep the little girl in his peripheral vision, as he examines a table full of some kind of meat filled pastry. He considers the child thoughtfully, and then he buys a pastry, one of the largest ones, and he turns and continues his way through the market.

He makes two more stops. One, at a stall that sells shawls, where he buys a child sized shawl in dark green. And then at a stall that sells simple pendants, where he buys a pendant that looks like a convor, as well as a leather strap to hang it on.

The girl seems content to just watch him, so Boba continues walking, until he’s in a more secluded area.

And that’s when the girl moves.

Her steps are feather light in the sand, hardly making a noise at all, and she’s a talented pick pocket, if he hadn’t been watching for her, he wouldn’t have noticed her hand in his pouch at all.

Boba’s hand moves swiftly as he firmly grabs her wrist, “Does that seem like a good idea, little one?” He asks as he turns to look at her.

Now that he’s closer, he realizes that her hair, which he thought was black, is actually dark blue. And the yellow splotches under her eyes continue down her neck and arms, which hints at some non-human ancestry. Twi’lek, perhaps, or possibly Miralian.

She tugs uselessly at his arm, and upon realizing that she’s not going to be able to break free from his grip, she tilts her chin up and glares up at him defiantly.

Without releasing her wrist, Boba reaches up and removes his helmet, and then crouches so he’s not towering over the child. “Well?” He asks.

“Ya weren’t payin’ attention,” She says sulkily, “Rich people don’t care when credits go missin,”

“If I let you go, are you going to run away?”

She nods, and so Boba sighs and shifts his grip so he’s not in danger of hurting her.

“I have a meat pastry, and a shawl for you, if you agree to talk to me.” Boba offers.

“Um…”

“And,” He adds, “I have a convor pendant for you if you promise to be honest.”

Her lips turn down into a thoughtful frown, “An’ all I haveta do is answer questions and be honest?”

“That’s right.”

She considers his words for a moment, “Okay.” Boba smiles and releases her, and the child immediately sits on a crate against the wall, and holds out her hands, “Food please.”

Boba hands her the still warm pastry and watches as she takes a big bite, “So, what’s your name and how old are you?”

“‘M Jazz, an’ I’m 12.” She says through a mouthful of pastry. “How old are you?”

“My name is Boba, and I’m 41.”

“Wow…that’s old.” Jazz says as she looks at him wide-eyed.

He chuckles, “Maybe you’re just really young.”

“Mm…maybe.” She takes another bite of the pastry and releases a happy hum.

“Jazz, I have some questions about the theft happening in the market.” Boba says gently, “What can you tell me?”

She tilts her head, “Um…there’s a man.” Jazz explains as she pulls a piece of meat out of the pasty and pops it into her mouth, “He came from Coruscant, an’ he said that he’d take care of us if we work for him.”

“So he’s teaching you all to steal?” Boba asks.

“Jus’ th’ smaller kids,” Jazz says with a shake of her head, “He’s makin’ the bigger kids mean.”

“Is that how you got the bruises? From the bigger kids?”

“Nah-uh.” She shakes her head, “He was picking on one of the littler kids, an’ I yelled at him, so he hit me.”

“It doesn’t sound like he’s taking good care of you.” Boba notes.

“He said he was gonna feed us, but we only get fed if we bring him so much credits.” Jazz complains, “We’re hungry a lot.”

“So he lied.” Boba murmurs thoughtfully, “Why do you still listen to him?”

“Cause he’s bigger. Cause I don’t have anywhere else to go. Cause someone has to look out for the littler ones.” Jazz shrugs.

“That’s brave of you, little one.” Boba says softly.

“I don’ think so. I’m used to adults hittin’ me after all.” Jazz replies, “I used to be a slave. The littler ones are just orphans.”

Boba frowns thoughtfully, “I have a proposition for you,” He offers.

“A what?”

“A…an offer.” Boba clarifies, “I’m going to build an orphanage for your friends, but I need to get this person first.” He says, “So, help me with this, and I’ll help you get adopted. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Jazz shrugs, “I don’t wanna be helpless.”

“Okay…then how about I adopt you and teach you how to be a bounty hunter.” Boba offers.

“What’s the catch?” Jazz asks warily.

“Bounty Hunting isn’t easy, and you’re probably going to get hurt in training. But you’ll learn everything I can teach you…and then some.” Boba promises, “And you’ll never go hungry again.”

“Um…that doesn’t sound so bad, I guess.” Jazz says quietly.

Boba waits patiently as he absently sets the other two gifts on the crate next to Jazz, a smile crossing his face as she runs her fingers over the material of the shawl and then picks up the pendant and turns it over in her hands.

“Okay.” She says, after almost five minutes of thought, “I’ll show you where the boss’ hideout is.”

“Good girl,” Boba replies with a sharp smile as he pulls his helmet on, “Fennec, I have him.”

“I heard. I’m heading your way now. I also sent word to the palace to make a room for the kid.”

“You’re a godsend, Fennec.”

“Yes. I am.”

Fennec appears only moments later, and she glances at Jazz, “Alright, Kid.” She says, “We’re going to go and find this boss, and then you and I are going to the speeder, while Boba here deals with your boss.”

“Who are you?”

“Names Fennec, I’m going to be one of your teachers.” Her grin is all teeth, “Come on kid.”

Once Boba knows where this petty criminal is hiding, it’s child’s play for him to clear out the building. Literal child’s play in this case, since the only security the guy had was half starved, half abused children.

And it was an easy decision, turning the massive building that he was using as his home base, into an orphanage for the children who already called it home.

At least the beginning of the orphanage is started, he decides two hours later as he watches several of the people from the city step up to take charge of the children, and the Orphanage itself.

There was still work to do, of course.

But-

His gaze flickers to the side, where his ad is sitting on a barrel with Fennec standing protectively next to her. They appear to be talking about something, and Boba sees Fennec point out something about the building, and he smiles.

Well, he has his own aliit he needs to get settled.

And, as he turns to go to Jazz, he can’t help but wonder if his buir would be proud of the man he’s become. And as Jazz nervously grins up at him, Boba reaches out and ruffles her hair. “Come on, ad. Let’s get you home.” He says gruffly.

Yes, he decides as he watches Jazz get settled in the back of the speeder, his father would be proud of the man he’s grown into. Even if it’s not what either of them ever intended.

#star wars #tbobf #boba fett #fennec shand #oc: Jazz #star wars fanfiction #nanowrimo 2023 #nanowrimo fanfiction

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