

The Last One Standing : The Tale of Boba Fett



The Last One Standing : The Tale of Boba Fett


Note : The following is an excerpt from Star Wars : Tales of the 
Bounty Hunters and is copyrighted by Lucasfilm and Bantam/Spectra 
Books. 


Author : Daniel Keys Moran

Retyped by Boba Fett

	

	Han ran toward his speeder under the dim light from the planet's only 
moon. He was slightly disoriented; he couldn't remember whether the 
downlot where he'd left the speeder was south and west, or south and 
east; he ran south down one of the long alleyways between the warehouses, breath coming short, and came up to the last building, the last cover 
before the downlot, and hesistated before rounding the corner, the downlot
was either immediately to his left or immediately to his right. He tried 
to envision the layout of the warehouse park in his mind - he thought 
he'd come the quick way around, but maybe not, and if he hadn't , then 
Fett might have reached the downlot before him.
	A scraping sound, metal on stone - 
	Before he even realized what he was doing Han found himself 
rounding the corner, rifle up and finger tightening on the trigger as 
Boba Fett was turning toward him, bringing up his own rifle - 
	They stood there in the middle of nowhere , on a planet the 
rest of the galaxy had more than half forgotten, pointing assault rifles 
at one another , froma distance less than a meter.
	Han didn't fire.
	Fett didn't fire.
	Bizarre details piled in on Han. The aperture of Fett's 
assault rifle was huge, as big as the Death Star had seemed at first 
sight. The barrel wasn't perfectly steady, it wavered slightly , moving 
around in almost invisibly tiny circles. The moonlight glinted off Fett's 
scarred armor; Han could see the moon, reflected darkly in the black 
visor.
	He was still out of breath from running. His voice caught when 
he spoke . "I guees we are going to .... die together." 
	Fett's voice - as harsh and as raw as ever. "Evidently."
	Han stared over the sight at him. "Your armor won't save you. 
Not at this range."
	"No."
	"I doubt you can kill me quick enough to keep from firing."
	Fett's helmet moved , slightly - a nod. "I doubt it too."
	Han did not dare take his eye away from his rifle's sight, 
aiming at the base of Fett's throat. "You killed those people back there. 
The woman."
	Han could have sworn he saw a shiver run up the bounty 
hunter's frame. "I'm sorry about that. They - she - was not the target."
	Han almost pulled the trigger on him. He could hear the arge 
in his own voice. "You're going to die and I'm going to die 
and maybe we both of us deserve it. That woman didn't do any -"
	"She's the one who called me!"
	Han took a step forward and screamed, "I don't care!"He 
found to his amazement that he was standing with the barrel of his rifle 
jammed up against Fett's armor, that the barrel of Fett's rifle was 
digging into his own breastbone. " I don't know what made you like you 
are, you think you get to decidewho lives and who dies, I don't care, 
come on, pull the trigger and we'll die together!" He stared into the 
black visor. "Last decision you'll ever make."
	Boba Fett said in a voice so soft Han would have sworn it 
could not have been Fett's, "You first." His voice got even softer, 
amazingly. "You're married, aren't you? You have children who need you. 
What were you doing out here, Solo, pretending to be young? This 
is no place for a man like you."
	The fury that touched Han was bone deep. "Don't you talk about 
my children, I'll kill you so fast --"
	"Do you want to die?"
	Han took a deep breath. "Do you?"
	Fett shook his head, the tiniest possible movement of the 
visor. "No. But I do not see a way out."
	The faintest breath of hope touched Han. "All right. You put 
down your rifle. I won't kill you if you put down yoor rifle."
	Fett whispered it. "No. You put down yours. I won't 
kill you if you put down yours. I'll let you go back to your family, 
unharmed. Put down your weapons-"
	"I don't trust you."
	"Nor I," said Fett, "you."
	A cool wind blew across the downlot; Han felt it drying his 
sweat, chilling him. "We take five steps back,"Han said finally. "You 
drop your rifle and run like a gundark on fire. Even if I do shoot you, 
that armor would protect you."
	"I have bad legs. I don't think I can outrun you."
	Han could not stop thinking of his children, of Leia. "Just 
walk away, put the rifle down and walk away. I'm an honest man. I won't 
kill you."
	"You're a liar," said Fett, "by all the evidence. I think you 
would." Fett paused. "When I was a young man," he said finally, "I think 
I would have pulled the trigger by now. But I find that I do not hate 
you, and I am not ready to die to remove you from the world."
	"I made a mistake, coming here to Jubilar,. I do hate 
you, I hate everything you've done - But my wifeand children need me."
	"I don't see a way put of this," said Fett, "that does not 
involve trying to trust one another."
	"This rifle is getting heavy," said Han, which it was; he 
watched Fett over the sight. "what are we going to do?"
	"Everyone dies," said Fett.
	"Yeah. Eventually. But it doesn't have to be today, not for 
either of us."
	Fett shook his head; the helmet barely moved, and Han did not 
imagine that Fett's attention had shifted even slightly. "I do not know," 
Fett said softly. "Trust is hard, among enemies. Perhaps we should return 
to the battle; perhaps, Han Solo, we should let fly, and once more let 
fate decide who will survive, as we did when we were young."






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