In the Hunter's Chamber

This story is based on, and takes elements of its structure and dialogue, from a sequence in "The Last One Standing: The Tale of Boba Fett" from Tales of the Bounty Hunters, written by Daniel Keys Moran. The scene features Boba Fett receiving an offer from Jabba in the form of Princess Leia -- though I've taken a little license when it comes to Jango's acceptance of his gift...

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In the Hunter’s Chamber
or, the Night Before

Fett lay on the cot in his darkened quarters deep inside the Stalgasin hive, wearing his armour, staring up into the darkness. His helmet was balanced on his stomach, and cool air from the ventilators washed across him in rhythmic gusts. Boba was somewhere deeper in the catacombs, under the supervision of Poggle's people. Not that Jango Fett trusted the Geonosians with the life of his son, but with two Jedi on Geonosis, Boba was safer away from Jango.

A heavy pounding sounded at his door, rousing the bounty hunter from his thoughts. Fett sat up, donning his helmet and lifting a WESTAR-34 from the cotside table; the movements were so automatic he did not even have to think about them. He cycled the lock on the door, took several steps backward and aimed the pistol. He did not turn on the chamber lights. 'Come in.'

The door slid aside with a low hiss. A pair of Geonosian guards stood out in the cavern; Fett levelled his pistol at them. 'What do you want?'

One of the guards stepped to the side on his splayed toes, and a form -- a human -- was shoved into the room. Fett's finger tightened reflexively on the trigger, but he held his fire. The near guard clicked and warbled, which Fett interpreted as an offer of a gift... from the Count. the guard added, and both let the door slide shut.

Fett reached back with one gloved hand and touched the lamp control; and under the cool white light that washed over the chamber, looked down on Padmé Amidala, Senator of Naboo.

She scrambled to her feet and backed up into a rocky alcove, breathing heavily. Fett imagined she had fought with the guards as they had brought her down to him. 'You touch me--' her voice faltered, and she stood there, shivering, and finally said, 'Touch me and one of us is going to die.'

He lowered the pistol slowly, and looked around the room. He had few enough possessions here with him on Geonosis; much of what he owned was back in Tipoca City, and such items as he had managed to salvage before the Jedi's interference remained aboard Slave I. Finally, he pointed at the thin sheet that covered the cot. 'Cover yourself. I'm not going to touch you.'

Amidala moved slightly to the side, leaned over and grabbed the sheet and wrapped it around herself and the thin, white jumpsuit that was hardly a match for the cold, stale air of the lower hives. She backed up again into the corner of the chamber that left her farthest away from Fett. 'You're not?'

He shook his head, although he was not entirely sure that was true. For one thing, Dooku would be... displeased should he refuse the gift Amidala was obviously intended to be; and Fett had had numerous occasions on which to witness how those who displeased the Count were treated -- and for another thing, Jango did not know whether he wanted to leave Amidala alone.

It had been mere days, perhaps no more than two, since Fett had been forced to kill Zam, and the loss still weighed heavily on him. He sat down in the corner facing hers, and propped the pistol on one knee, so that it was not quite pointing at Amidala's face. It had been unavoidable, but it had also been one of the hardest kills Jango had made. He had been close to Zam, very close, and she had cared for both him and Boba. Fett needed a way to distance himself from the memory. He had been intimate with Zam, the first woman in many years whom he had allowed close to him.

'Sex between those not married,' said Fett, 'is immoral.' But then, Fett knew, he was not a moral man.

'Yes,' said Amidala. 'So's rape.'

Fett nodded. 'So is rape.' He sat in what was, for him, a comfortable silence, watching her from behind his helmet. She settled down in the opposite corner, being careful of her covering over that skin-tight outfit; Fett respected her pretensions at modesty, but it did not prevent him from continuing to look at her. Though Fett had held few women in his arms, and his desire for a woman had come less frequently since Boba had been bestowed upon him, this did not, in Fett's mind, make him any less of a man; and she was worth looking at, still flushed from her struggles, with her long, dark hair cascading down over the pale sheet.

He could see what the Jedi, Skywalker, saw in her. Fett could read him well, and wouldn't it be something of a delight to take his lover from him?

She adjusted the sheet around herself, pushing back into the corner for warmth. 'You're not going to call the guards and have me locked up?'

'And insult Dooku? I don't think so. He would feed your friends to the beasts, and make you watch; and he would hold a grudge against me. You can go back in the morning.'

'For the execution,' she spat. Fett said nothing. Her breathing quietened slightly. 'So we just sit here. All night.'

'The stones are cold. If you want to use the bed, you're welcome to it.'

Amidala's skepticism was obvious, and it pleased Fett to know that this fresh-faced girl, a queen while barely into her teenage years, was not so naive. Fett was not interested in innocent girls. 'I won't hurt you,' he vowed. 'Sleep if you will. Or not; I do not care.'

Silence descended. Fett watched the woman as she leaned back against the stone wall; watched her as she collected herself; watched her as she watched him. She was becoming more interesting by the minute.

She suddenly burst out, 'Why are you doing this? Why are you fighting for them?'

Fett stirred, stretching slightly. The pistol on his knee was as steady as a rock. 'Almost a million credits,' he informed her. 'That's what the Count and Gunray have paid for my services.'

'Is it just credits? We'll pay you. Help us get out of here, and we'll pay you--'

'How much?'

'More than you can imagine.'

Fett was amused by the audacity she showed, trying to bribe him, here deep inside the Confederate headquarters. 'I can imagine an awful lot.'

'You'll get it.'

It was a cruel thing to let the woman hope. 'No. I don't care either way about the dispute in the Republic. I don't care if you win, or if Dooku does. But the Count is my employer, and he is not a man to cross.'

'So you fear him,' Amidala replied instantly.

Fett actually leaned forward slightly. 'I respect his power and his influence, which is more than you can imagine. He could track me across the galaxy, and maybe even beyond. The Separatists have the resources to utterly destroy the Republic; not just through military might, but bring it to its knees and let it burn itself out.'

He shut up abruptly; all the talking was making his throat sore.

His comments did not seem to have much of an affect on Amidala. She continued to watch him; gauge him, from her little corner. 'Do you fear the Republic?'

'No,' Fett said, and he found he was being honest about it all. He had nothing to fear from the secluded Chancellor Palpatine, and even the Jedi had little strength here on Geonosis.

Yet still Amidala gazed over at him. 'Do you fear me?' she asked, causing Fett to snap his head up, to determine if she was being serious. She apparently was.

'Of course not,' he said.

'Then what do you feel about me?' she asked, and Fett gave an inward sigh. Was it really going to be as easy as this, after all the spirit she had shown?

Fett leaned forward again, prepared to find out how far she would go. 'I think you have strong convictions. I think you will use any means you deem necessary to achieve an end, if you believe it will help your situation.'

Amidala was silent for a time, weighing his words. Fett wondered if this was still about the bribe. Or maybe Skywalker simply enjoyed easy women. 'What would it take to persuade you to forget about Dooku, and join us?' Amidala said.

'What would you offer?' Fett asked, and checked himself; was he really going to do this?

'Myself,' Amidala said, and she was genuine about it, Fett could see. It was distasteful.

'Why?'

This appeared to render Amidala speechless' she looked off to the side, away from Fett, staring at the blank, rock wall for several moments. Perhaps he had hurt the pride she thought she had. Finally, she spoke. 'You're not like other bounty hunters. They wouldn't hesitate.'

Fett considered this. 'I don't find women who offer themselves up to a man they know is their enemy to be attractive.'

'If we believe strongly enough in a cause, any opportunity should be taken to fight that cause.'

Fett shook his head. One of the reasons why he never involved himself with causes. He preferred to keep a clear head. 'And sully that cause by degrading those who honour it?' he asked, drawing upon concepts he did not often encounter.

Amidala paused. 'A strange belief, for a bounty hunter. You destroy yourself by killing for the causes of others, without ever holding one of your own.' She rocked forward on her heels, regarding Fett with a keen light in her eyes. He did not like it.

'It is what I'm good at,' he replied simply. 'Would you say you are good at seducing others, Senator Amidala?'

She did not reply. Silence returned to the little chamber, and Fett assumed she had taken offence, and was ignoring him. It suited him.

'Would you have killed me?' Both of his eyes were open, but he was only half awake when she spoke. He focused on her. 'Would you have taken pleasure in it? Would it have caused you pain to end my life?'

Fett tilted his head to one side. The interest was returning; he couldn't deny it. Few were quite so frank about such matters, and even less would have told him so. 'Neither. It was a job. Had I killed you, I would have been paid more.'

'Could you kill me now?' Amidala asked. Fett did not know where she was going with this line of conversation.

'The bounty has been removed. You die tomorrow. There would be no profit in it.'

The woman persisted. 'But could you? What if I attacked you? What if,' she continued, and reached under the sheet to collect something from her belt, 'I snuck a vibro-shiv into your room, and tried to gut you?'

Cold, white light glinted off the compact weapon, and Fett sat up a little straighter. The sheer audacity interested him... and perhaps even excited him. How many of his bounties tried this, with such calm determination? But then, how many of those vulgar, low-lives had causes to fight for? 'I could shoot you before you could even stand up.'

'But you won't,' Amidala said, and smiled. She smiled. Fett regarded her levelly.

'Do you believe that?' he asked, but before he could even utter the last syllable, she had leapt to her feet, the sheet falling from around her shoulders, the vibro-shiv raised in one small fist. She came towards him, not rushed, but at a pace that brought her across the chamber in seconds. Fett stood quickly, and aimed his pistol at her right temple. She let her knees sag, and brought the shiv down and around, stabbing towards the side of his torso that his armour did not protect.

The blow did not land, and perhaps she knew it wouldn't. Fett intercepted with a casual flick of his arm, catching her wrist and holding it tight. She lashed out with her free hand, but her palm simply clanged off his helmet. Amidala cried out, but did not give up. The hand came out again, grabbing for Fett's throat, while she continued to struggle against his grip. His second hand clutched her forearm, holding her fingers inches from his exposed neck.

Fett was painfully aware that her body was pressing close to his; he could feel her contours on such regions of his body as were not covered by his armour. Her hips were pushing into his, and he could feel strong thighs on his legs, struggling in close quarters. But what interested him most was her face; and the steely, determined glare that she fixed upon his helmet.

It reminded him a little of Zam.

'Are you going to kill me?' she whispered, and Fett forced himself not to become lost in his thoughts about Zam. He looked Amidala dead in the eyes; though she could obviously not meet his gaze, though Fett considered that at this point, he didn't give a damn.

He pushed, and Amidala's small frame relented immediately. She toppled back, landing hard on the cot, with Fett looming over her, his armoured bulk pinning her to the lumpy mattress. He spread her arms up and out, twisting her wrist effortlessly to dislodge the shiv; it fell to the floor with a clatter as Fett leaned in, his mask inches from Amidala's flushed face.

He wanted to say something, to validate his actions, but he realized this was exactly what Amidala had planned. She knew he would not have killed her, and she must have sensed his interest in her. She was good, and that excited Fett all the more; the trick didn't even matter, not with Amidala writhing helplessly under him.

So he continued to stare at her from behind his mask, as he transferred his grip on her wrists to one hand, while the other reached down to tug at the waistband of the woman's leggings. He did not care about her body, nor about making love to her. He wanted a release, and it was those unflinching eyes that would do it.

He exposed the Senator's pubic area, still watching her face, and found a spark of fear in her eyes as he unfastened his codpiece. It seemed she wasn't quite prepared for this as she appeared; which was, to Fett, at least good enough to afford her a little of her dignity.

Fett allowed his cock to spring free, and Amidala's glare intensified; evidently with the effort of not looking down at the member that was about to penetrate her. Fett didn't need the validation anyway; he had been big enough for Zam, who had always been a very demanding lover.

Fett entered the woman without hesitation, filling her as much as he could without wishing to cause her undue pain. She gasped aloud nevertheless, and her hips jerked up in response. Fett had enjoyed watching Zam's face as he had entered her; and with Zam, there were many faces to choose from. Perhaps that was why Fett did not care about Amidala's superficial beauty; he had not been put off by Zam's Clawdite appearance, as her eyes had never changed.

The woman continued moaning softly under him, and Fett began pulling in and out of her; finding that she was already wet; it seemed their brief tussle had excited her as much as him. Interesting. Fett thrust in deeper with every stroke, pushing more of himself inside the Senator, revelling in her tightness. She was not a virgin, that much was clear, but she appeared to have had few lovers; or perhaps they had simply been less well-endowed than Fett. He hoped he had spoiled her for Skywalker.

He began pumping in earnest, his hips rising and falling as Amidala's did the same underneath them; they soon fell into a fast rhythm, though neither's gaze left the other, divided though they were by Fett's visor. She kicked her leggings farther down her slick legs, spreading wider to allow Fett to penetrate her deeper still. He managed to squeeze his entire length into her, and felt sure he was grazing the entrance to her womb when thrusting in up to the base. The leggings eventually tumbled off over her boots, and her legs came up to wrap around Fett’s waist, squeezing his hips and causing him to plough into her faster than ever. The cot was creaking madly, and was probably digging depressions into the floor. Fett did not care.

She was still moaning and writhing, and though her eyes and flushed features betrayed her lustful enjoyment, Fett respected her... well, her decorum. Even Zam became wild and uncontrolled during their sessions, and Fett often found her prone to lapse into multiple body-shifts, revealing some quite unpleasant shapes. The Senator, however, was meeting Fett blow for blow; pumping her hips in time with his thrusts, never attempting to take more than Fett was giving.

He felt his balls tighten, and began thrusting with renewed intensity. He considered pulling out for a moment, but the woman would be dead by the morning anyway. This thought did not cause Fett distaste; it was simply an inevitable consequence of her actions. He came inside her, burying himself as deep as she would allow, spilling his seed into her womb. She contracted her muscles, milking his shaft, squeezing it tight enough for Fett to pull out as soon as he had run dry.

She was still gazing up at him, a bright determination in her eyes, as if savouring a small, personal victory. He did not know if she had climaxed, and he did not particularly care. It had never been about that. He readjusted his codpiece, and got off her to stand over the cot. ‘I’m tired,’ he said. I’m going to sleep.’

And he strode over to the lamp control and flicked it. His macrobinoculars compensated almost immediately as darkness fell on them; she sprang into his vision by the light of her body heat. She was glowing a deep red, though cooling quickly. She was still watching him, from her prone and vulnerable position on the cot.

‘You,’ she stated out of the darkness, ‘are going to die tomorrow.’

Fett paused, regarding her still form, lying in front of him. He could kill her now and be done with it; but both knew that was not going to happen. She would be executed tomorrow, along with her friends, and the Separatists would go about their business. ‘Everyone dies,’ Fett said. He turned and sat in the corner. Amidala remained on the cot, and eventually Fett registered she had fallen asleep.

He slept with his eyes open, inside the helmet, thinking of executions, and Zam, and the Senator. Tomorrow, it would be done with.