TITLE: The First Taste
AUTHOR: Augustana Rae
RATED: PG-13 for the occassional profanity. But nothing else bad!
SUMMARY: Told from Boba Fett's pov about his little known encoutner with
Mara Jade at Jabba's Palace. Not true, but it would have been interesting if
this really happened.
DISCLAIMER: I own none of these guys and am not making
any money off this.

This is my first posted fanfic! Send comments good or bad to
asomethingbeautiful@hotmail.com. Thanks!

* * * * *

The first time I saw her I was stung with a fierce desire to clutch
and destroy. To possess and smother. Her sinous figure twirled gracefully
as I watched from the shadows. Her hair as red as blood, her green eyes
flashing defiantly. She was only pretending to be broken. The music
swelled and the drums beat a savage rhythm, pulsing wildly. She was
beautiful. I felt myself slipping, my eyes following the rhythmic pulsing
of the swaying bodies.

I knew I did not love her. And I could overcome desire. I alone
control myself. And yet I still found myself staring. I knew she was not
who she said she was. And she was dangerous. And a woman. The combination
intrigued me. I'd met many strong women before. Emotions are a weakness.
I've always done my job and the satisfaction of being the best was enough
for me. Yet something inside me was bubbling up and I didn't like it.

I followed her movements across the floor. She did not belong here.
There was an authority to her movements that suggested so. She was crisp
and confident and found it hard to find that fact. She was barely wearing
anything. She probably found that degrading.

She was a challenge for me. A door just begging to be opened, and
who was I to ignore fate? Mercifully, the song died and the dancing stopped.

The ugly lizard in the middle of the room emitted a belch and I left in
distaste to search for sanctity, suddenly angry at the ease of my unraveling.

In my ship I meditated and felt stable once more. I decided to make
my rounds and headed off. My feet softly crunched in the dirt-covered
corridors and I was glad the filter in my helmet mitigated the rancid smells
I knew must exist in a dive like this. I wondered once more what I was
doing here, and then I heard light footsteps suddenly around the corner I
was approaching where none should be. I drew my blaster silently and
proceeded cautiously. I peeked around the corner quickly and caught a
flash of red hair before snapping my head back. It was the girl!

She hadn't noticed me and I followed her progress silently. I knew
instinctively that she was up to something, and I realized we were making
our way to the prison cells. I ran through the possibilities in my mind.
It had to be Skywalker and his friends. No one else here was even noteworthy.
It was clear now. She had to be Imperial. Her mannerisms were unmistakable.
I pulled the safety on my gun and she froze instantly.

"Turn around," I said, emotionless.

She did. I grabbed the gun she was holding and my scanner revealed
there were no other concealed weapons. And she was alone to. No others
jumped to her help. That was ambitious. Or perhaps disturbing.

"Put your hands behind your head." The irony of her submissive
position was not lost on me. "Walk forward." She did so and thus we
proceeded to my ship with my gun in her back. She seemed to know when the
odds were against her and complied until we climbed the ladder into my ship.
There were no ambushes along the way, and she went ahead of me and when I
was climbing through the hatch she made her attack. I had expected this
though, and blocked her easily. She was sent sprawling onto the floor and
once more I had my gun trained on her.

Once I had her in the cell, I only had to figure out who she was.
Undoubtedly she was important. A beautiful women, sent to assassinate one
of the most powerful men in the galaxy. And alone. That was ambitious.
Whether or not I could use her to gain a bounty was irrelevant. This had to
do with my security obligations. Of course it did.

A scan through the data banks revealed nothing. That was hardly
surprising. I sent messages to my contacts but an agent this high probably
wouldn't be highly visible.

Another thought occurred to me as I sat down on the cold metal chair.
Why was I doing this? For all I know she was just another dancing slut. But
I couldn't be wrong about that. She obviously had combat skill. It occurred
to me she had done no crime, and could be a no one or acting independently.
If I didn't even know who she was, what the hell could I do with her? Why
did I even pick her up?

But I knew. I just didn't want to admit it. It's what compels an
the collector to capture a beautiful butterfly and then impale it where all
can see. I knew then how sick I was.

I decided to question her and went immediately. I stood outside the
cell door and she stared back at me with contempt. She appeared compliant
but it was a front. Her eyes could not mask their fury. I had to admit
that I was the slightest bit impressed. Most of my prisoners were sobbing
and begging by this point. She was someone indeed.

"What is your name?" She refused to answer. "I will ask one more
time and then will resort to alternative methods." She didn't flinch. In
fact she grew even more inflamed.

"What is your name?"

"Mon Mothma." And then she spat. Charming. I pulled my blaster
from its arm sheath and fired once. The blue ray knocked her backward and I
opened the door and toed her over. Her golden red hair covered her face and
pooled around her head and shoulders like blood, her supple figure contorted
with her fall. Beautiful.

I grabbed her by her wrists and then suddenly was on the floor in
pain and then I saw only a blur and then there was nothing.

* * * *

When my eyes opened I immediately snapped to attention. My side and
legs stung and I felt an incredible sense of loss and disconnection. And
then I realized it. My armor was gone. Shit. Calm down. Get a grasp of
the situation. Control it.

I was bound securely and she was nowhere in sight. I was sitting in
my own interrogation chair. She was probably finishing whatever business
she had here and then would come back for me.

She's seen me. How could I have been so stupid? There were plenty
who wanted me dead, and she would have an easy time getting rid of me. And
someone had to untie me sometime and then it would be easy to break free. I
just have to wait. And I can do that. She won't harm me. I'm too valuable
to her. And then I remembered. My ship responds to my voice. Stupid of her
to leave me here alone.

"Unlock chair." After a second the bonds sprung back and I stood up.
I tested my muscles briefly and was fine although slightly sore. My armor
was nowhere to be seen. Then realization dawned on me. That wretch was
dressed up as me now, and was going to pin her crimes on me too.

I know now; I have the control. I went and retrieved some spare
weapons and put on an old cloak. No one would recognize me as myself.
Except for her.

I made my way quickly to the audience chamber in time to hear the
sentencing of Skywalker and his friends. I saw her as myself and fought to
control my anger, but in a minute I was calm again and heading with the
others to the sail barge. I slipped on amidst the crowd and soon found she
was on the main barge with me. I quickly ducked out of sight and found a
vantage point on the deck where I could see her easier than she could see me.
The barge started off with a lurch and soon we were under blazing sunlight. I was under a roof, but the light was still almost blinding to me, and then wind across my bare face felt odd and unwelcome. I realized my spot on the deck hardly mattered though, for all her attention was focused on the prisoners flying next to us. How could someone this stupid be an imperial agent? She was blind-sighted by her passion. And an incredible one at that.

We reached the sarlacc pit finally as I completed my scan of the
other potential troublemakers. I had contained all of Lady Valarian's
suspected assassins and expected no trouble from that end. The air was
acrid and I burned without my temperature regulators. The air was full
and sweaty once more and I rubbed my eyes to clear the sand out of them.
But I couldn't allow my lack of comfort to get in the way of my business.

Finally Skywalker walked the plank and I saw her tighten her grip on
the railing with a thrill I can only imagine. Killing has long lost its
excitement for me. It was only a matter of doing what had to be done.
Emotions cluttered things too much. All the same I felt a resentment
gurgling up from a place I thought I'd buried and I knew then that this
beautiful creature must die. She knew too much about me.

And then I blinked and Skywalker had flipped around and was cutting
through the guards with his lightsaber. In a fury she ignited my jet pack
and landed with near accuracy on the prisoner's skiff. That took some skill.
Maybe I had underestimated her. Almost immediately the power on the barge
went out. Jabba would think I was out protecting him against Skywalker and
here I could keep my vantage point on the girl and know the outcome firsthand.
But I had given my word. I went down a level to see if Jabba was alright,
knowing that this chaos would be the perfect time to strike against him.

When I reached the room I found the enchained Princess Leia with her
chains wrapped around his neck. His grotesque face was twisted in agony, his
eyes lolling and his mouth frothing wildly. He was almost dead. I found a
disturbing lack of caring in myself. The money was good, but it was
elsewhere too and I hardly needed the extra cash. And who could say I didn't
try? I was out defending him against the enemy at the very moment.

I turned my attention back to the scene outside as his eyes rolled
back into his head and life finally left him. I didn't notice Organa's
departure, and with Jabba dead I no longer had an obligation to protect him.
But Skywalker would make a good bounty, and that girl needed to suffer.
Organa would have been a good capture, but without my armor I had no way of
restraining her and she would see my face. I could only take one alive,
and she was worth nothing to me dead.

Looking through the window I watched as the half-blind Solo
floundered around with a stick in his hand. This will be easy; she'll do the
work for me.

And then I saw Solo swing back, igniting the jetpack. I watched her
fly backward and the sarlacc opened its mouth wide. Pure incompetence. A
sightless man beat her, and it was up to me now. I proceeded quickly to the
top deck in time to watch Skywalker fire the gun at the deck and swing to
safety with Organa in his arms. How touching. I had only seconds to dive over
the side, making a plunge that seemed like forever. I hit rolling but felt
the snap that was a sure sign of a bone breaking. I pulled my arm over my
face to shield myself from the huge explosion. I couldn't hear anything more
and was deaf, but probably only temporarily. Normally my helmet would have
filtered that out. Damn that girl. When I finally was able to look up they
were just a speck on the horizon, and then they were gone. Great.

I tried to get up but felt excruciating pain as I put weight on my
leg and I took in that my left ankle must be broken. That was OK. I've been
through worse. It hardly hurt. After a minute I was able to crawl over to
some debris that was littering the sand. I found a piece a large enough
piece that would support me and began the long hobble back to my ship. I
barely glanced at the sagging barge, magnificent in its death throws with
the sun illuminating it's outline. It was not important anymore. I pulled
the cloak over my head to block out the wind and made progress slowly.

By the time I Reached the palace it was dark and the cold had numbed
the pain some. My ankle had swelled considerably but it didn't bother me
anymore. I was momentarily detained at the door by some lowlife trying to
take charge, but I slapped him into a crumpled heap and made my way step by
step to my ship. Getting up the ladder would be painful and it took several
minutes for me to accomplish this, mostly by hanging with one arm and
climbing one rung at a time with my good leg.

I finally made it and located my med kit. I injected a pain
treatment and felt the fire spread satisfyingly followed by a cooling tingle.
I limped to the controls and programmed in a course. By the time I reached
my safe haven I would be under control again.

I made a splint for my arm and leg in hyperspace and my head cleared
again. The familiarity of my cold confines was welcoming and I felt at ease
once more. The smells were familiar and the light was no longer blinding.

I had time to think during the long journey. Nothing would be lost.
I had received my money from Jabba. My leg and collarbone would heal. The
girl was as good as dead. Skywalker got away, but there will be others. All
in all, a success. I was free now to do as I pleased. And yet a pressure
kept leaning on my brain that wouldn't go away. I had not killed the girl.
I couldn't shake the feelings she had inspired. I knew that I would see her
again. She was not incompetent, just passionate. She would surface again.
As much as I didn't want to admit it, this caused me anxiety. For too many
reasons. She had a reason to live and a reason to die. What did I have?
But she will come back. I'm certain of that. And when she does, we will
face off again, and this time on more even terms. The first taste of her
has killed me. And I long for more.