Never Talk to Strangers...

Disclaimer: I do not own any part of the Star Wars universe, and I am not making any money off this story.

This is a long story. It includes graphic sex, descriptive violence, questionable situations, and people doing really stupid things in the name of love. You are forewarned.

A Special Warning to all you SW Junkies: I love the movies too, but this is my turn to play. If something doesn't match up perfectly with the myriad comics, novels, novella's, etc. floating around then deal with it, and I hope you enjoy it anyway.

That being said, let's get to the good stuff.

Chapter 1

The sun shone brightly that day, on a world light years away from the conflicts that threatened the more civilized parts of the galaxy. Here, on a planet not unlike Earth, a young woman named Aislynn Rhys finished the morning chores, picked up a lead rope and a bucket of brushes, and headed out for the stables. As she reached the fence at the edge of the pasture, she saw her roan gelding, Snapper, already waiting for her.

She opened the gate, and clicked the lead to his halter, patting him gently. “Beautiful morning, eh, old boy? Feel like helping me check the fences today?” The horse whickered softly and butted her with his head. She swatted him playfully. “Mind your manners,” she said, laughing, and led him out into the yard.

She tied him to a fence and set the bucket down. Reaching her arms around the horse’s shaggy neck, she pressed her face against it, feeling the warmth and inhaling the sharp, dusty scent. Snapper shifted his weight impatiently.

“I know, sweetheart. I’m wasting time.” She reached down and picked up the wooden handled brush, unconsciously running her fingers across its handcarved handle. It needed to be replaced. Her father had made the brush with his own hands, over three years ago. Right before...

She laid the brush against the horse’s side, starting close to his head and working across his body. She let herself fall into the rhythym of the work, banishing her darker thoughts, and soon was humming softly in time with her strokes. A gently breeze stirred her hair.

As she finished, she tossed the brush into the bucket and reached for a metal hoof pick. She picked up each of his feet, checking for stones, then tossed the pick back into the bucket. “It’s a nice day for a ride, isn’t it Snapper? The boys will be back in a few day. You know,” she leaned in closer to whisper conspiratorially to the horse, “‘tween you and me, I wish they’d just stay gone sometimes.” The horse swished his tail and stomped at a fly.

She laughed at herself and carried the bucket into the barn to get Snapper’s tack. On the tack room wall was an old mirror, so old the wooden frame had begun to split. She spit on her hand and wiped some of the dust from the glass, and frowned at her reflection.

Her light brown hair was showing darker streaks from the sun. A light sprinkling of freckles dusted her cheeks, and her face was deeply tanned. Her hair stuck out in all directions. She took the bandana from around her neck and tied it into her hair looked into the mirror again. Better.

She laughed at herself as she took the saddle and bridle back out to the waiting horse. It wasn’t as if there were anyone to notice her hair anyway. The bloody cowboys were a bunch of leering, buck toothed, boozing pricks.

Ever since her father had died three years ago, all the good ones - all but Bill - had gone off in search of greener pastures. She curled her lip at the cliche. She finished checking the straps on Snapper’s bridle. Snapper raised his head suddenly, flicking his ears back in the direction of the house.

Aislynn heard Bill walking up behind her and turned to face him. Bill MacPhail was her father’s partner and best friend. He was approaching 50, but in good health. His face was a map of deep lines which attested to a life spent outside in the sun and the wind. Bill was the closest thing Aislynn had left to a family. He’d always been like an uncle to her.

“Boys should be back tomorrow from their town run, Ash. You can wait until tomorrow for the fences and I’ll have one of them ride with you.”

She shook her head. “No, Bill, I need to get away from the house for a couple of days anyway. I already finished with the chickens and I put feed and hay out for the ladies.” She looked up at the clear, cloudless sky. “Might want to run the irrigation pumps for a few minutes later.”

“I’ll handle it, miss, if you won’t wait.”

She fixed him with what she hoped was a pointed stare. “I’ve already got my gear packed and waiting.”

I know, miss,” Bill said quietly. “I saw it yesterday by the kitchen door. I wish you’d wait. You don’t need to be riding out alone.”

“My father rode these fences for how many years alone Bill?”

“I know, miss. It’s just, well, I promised your father I’d take care of you, and I can’t do that if you won’t ...”

“I’ll be careful. Make sure you run the pumps, ‘kay? Here,” she handed him the reins, “Hold Snapper while I get my gear.” She didn’t give him any time to protest, just grabbed up the pack and stepped into the stirrup. She swung her leg over in one swift movement.

Snapper waited patiently as she colleted her thoughts and her balance. She patted the horse gently in thanks. Bill handed her the reins. She clucked her tongue softly, and they headed north along the fence line.

Her parents’ ranch actually stretched over nearly sixty acres of open land, broken up by small groups of trees her father had planted to provide shelter for their herds. They raised cattle, and at one time, had been known for raising the best cutting and roping ponies around, but that was years ago.

Now, she made barely enough each year to pay the men who had stayed on. Each time they went to town, a few more didn’t come back. The one’s that did drank too much, and talked even more than they drank. That damned Jimmy Johnson...

She knew she should sell the land, move to town, go anywhere, but she couldn’t give up this place. Her parents’ were buried on this land, and her father wouldn’t have wanted to lose it. She stopped to check one of the rails which was tipped at a strange angle. It turned out to be loose, not broken, but she noticed it was beginning to split and made a mental note of where she was. She’d send one of the boys out to fix it next week. Should be OK until then.

She had been riding along the northern fence line for two hours when the peace of the day was shattered from above. She felt Snapper tense beneath her and then a brilliant light flashed above her. The horse reared in terror, throwing her from its back and galloped off in the opposite direction.

Aislynn felt a searing blast of heat and something enormous slammed into the ground 100 yard in front of her and skidded down the field, tearing up grass and trees alike until it came to rest nearly a quarter of a mile away.

“What the fuck...” she said, not realizing she has spoken aloud. As she struggled out of her pack - which had taken most of the blow from the fall - she could see the ground smoking along the trail and rising from the thing. As she cautiously approached, she could see the sun glinting off metal, a strange kind of metal that she couldn’t recognize. The object was larger than her house, oblong, and parts of it looked as if they had been burned, or sheared off.

She could feel the heat radiating from it as she approached and knew better than to touch it. She picked up a rock and threw it at the thing. The rock made a metallic ping as it bounced off the side. She inched closer.

There was some kind of writing on it, which had half buried itself in the ground from the force of its landing. She could make out an S, and and L, and part of what looked like an A... She looked up to the sky in wonder. Then back at the thing before her. Her mind wandered back two weeks, to a drunken argument with Jimmy Johnson in the bunkhouse, railing about people coming to the town from the stars.

Aislynn stepped away from the thing, shaking her head. This must be an incredibly strange dream. She’d just go back to checking the fences and wait for Bill to show back up with Snapper... the thing, the...ship... emitted a loud hissing sound and then a portion of the side slid up. Smoke billowed out of the thing, she coughed as it hit her throat, sharp and acrid.

“Hello!” she called, stepping forward. “Hello! Is someone in there?” She was almost inside the opening now, and the smoke had begun to clear.

Realizing that what she was doing was incredibly stupid, she stepped into the opening. Inside, the walls were made of the same strange metal. She seemed to be standing in hallway. “Hello? Is there someone here?”

As she took a step forward, she heard a deep male voice respond, “If you value your life you will stay exactly where you are.”

Peering through the smoke, Aislynn could see a figure seated inside a small room. “Are you OK?”

Surprise - and pain - were evident in his reply, “You aren’t Messina’s? What are you doing here?”

As the smoke began to clear, she could see the man, if he was a man, was dressed in some strange metal suit which completely covered his body and face. He held an equally strange weapon in his hands.

She raised her hands above her head. “I’m trying to help you. Please don’t...”

He slowly lowered the weapon. She heaved a sigh of relief. He visibly tensed as she took a step towards him. She paused, then slowly walked over to him. She could see that his right leg was twisted at an unnatural angle. Assuming he was human...or close to it...

He reached out and grabbed her arm as she leaned down to look at his leg. She tried to pull away, but his grip was incredibly strong. “Who are you?”

“My name is Aislynn Rhys,” she responded, trying to stay calm, “You landed, or I guess you crashed on my land. I need to look at your leg.”

“Not necessary. It’s broken,” he responded sharply.

“Well, I can’t do anything to help you in here, we have to go outside. Do you have a first aid kit or something?”

“Medkit, on the wall to the right. Won’t handle this though. Need my backup systems to com... and they’re damaged....” he wasn’t making sense. She couldn’t tell if it was from shock or because he couldn’t really understand her.

“OK, I need you to stand up. We can’t stay in here. I have to get you outside. Don’t jog the leg more than you need to, and lean on me...”

He grunted, then reached up and grabbed the console. “Cut the belts...”

“What...”she looked around.

“Belts, cut the belts....”

She saw that he was still strapped to the chair and managed to saw through the straps. Clutching at the walls, he made his way slowly and painfully out of the ship. She tried to help, but he ignored her.

“I wouldn’t put any weight on the leg if I ...” She started to say, then tried to catch him as he missed his step and stumbled towards the door.

She rushed over to him. “Look you thick headed idiot, I’m trying to help you! So cooperate or I swear I’ll leave you here.”

“Should,” he croaked.

“What?”

“Should leave me here. Messina...”

She fumbled with the straps on the helmet. “Do you need this thing to breathe?”

“No...”

“Good,” she said, finding the release mechanism and yanking the helmet from his head. “Now, I need you to keep talking to me. Doesn’t matter what you say, just keep talking. What’s your name?”

“Fett.”

“Fett. OK, first name, last name, or...” she watched his face, which appeared human. His hair was slick with sweat and he was incredibly pale. Probably going into shock, she thought. She pulled the twisted piece of metal that had covered his shin aside, as gently as she could but she felt his body jerk uncontrollably as she did so. “What was that? I didn’t catch the rest of your name.”

“Boba Fett.”

“Mr. Fett, I need to set your leg. This kit you mentioned, it can help?”

“Bacta. Blood cleanser, yes. Pain killer.”

“Painkiller sounds good. What does it look like?”

He gave her a broken description. She went back into the ship, focusing on what had to be done and refusing to consider the impossibility of the situation. She found the metal box and brought it outside. He was breathing shallowly, gasping for air.

“You have to show me what’s what... Fett. Focus..”

He nodded and she managed to follow his instructions, pain killer first. It seemed to take effect instantly. He stopped gritting his teeth and methodically walked her through the rest of the operation.

“My horse took off in the opposite direction when you showed up, so Bill won’t be long in coming, but we’re a two hours easy ride from my house...” she reached forward and twisted the bone back into place without warning him. He let loose with a string of what must be curses in a language she didn’t understand.

“I’m sorry I had to do that, but it’s easier if you don’t know it’s coming,” she said gently as she bound a stick to the side of his straightened leg.

He nodded.

“I really need you to keep talking until Bill shows up. If you go into shock...”

“Who is Bill? Your man?”

“No. Hell no,” she made a face, “Bill was my father’s business partner, and his best friend. He helps me watch the place when my other ranch hands make town runs.”

“I see. So you are a farmer.”

“Rancher, yes. What do you do?”

He changed the subject quickly. Too quickly for her to feel comfortable. “Where is the closest hospital?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He stared at her in pure amazement. “You have no doctors? No healer?”

“Nearest doctor lives in town, and that’s at least three days either direction in good weather.” The way he talked was unfamiliar. The language seemed right, but some of the words were different. She reached out and touched his uninjured leg. “I’ll take care of you.”

He suddenly raised his head and stared past the ship, in the direction of the house.

She followed his gaze and climbed to her feet. “That’s Bill and he brought Snapper and Dolly. BILL! Over here!”

Bill had stopped as soon as he saw the ship looming out of the ground. “What in the seven hells is that?”

“Some kind of ship, Bill. There was a man inside and he’s hurt. You have to help me get him back to the house.”

“Aislynn, have you completely lost your mind?” Bill asked, still staring at the ship as though it were one of his preacher’s devils risen from hell.

“He’s hurt, Bill.”

“I don’t care. We are not...”

“I am, Bill. This is still my house and my land. I know what Papa would have done.”

She saw Bill’s hands shaking as he approached the man on the ground.

“We won’t be able to get him up on one of them, he won’t be able to sit. We’ll have to make a pull.”

She nodded, and started for a copse of trees. Bill grabbed her arm. “Oh, no, miss. You stay here and keep your star boy company. I’ll make the pull.”

She came back over and knelt beside him, brushing a sweaty lock of hair away from his face. “You’re going to be fine. I promise.”

He turned his face away from her. She noticed he was shivering, so she got her bedroll from the pack and laid it over him. It helped a little. In the back of her mind she hoped she would be able to keep her promise.

Bill made short work of building the pull. They attached the blankets between two long poles and strapped the poles to each side of Snapper’s saddle, then laid the injured man on the blankets.

She knelt beside him as Bill mounted Dolly. “Honestly, you might want to go ahead and pass out now, because this is not going to be a pleasant trip. We’ll be as gentle as we can but we need to get home before dark.”

He nodded.

She didn’t know whether he took her advice, but she didn’t hear a single groan or complaint from him the entire way back to the farmhouse.