Bad Blood

Chapter 7 - Fugitives Are Often Desperate

Boba sank into the pilot's chair and gently bashed his head against the console. What was he going to do about Astéri? One minute, they were at least on speaking terms. The next minute, she was trying to break out of her chains and kill him. It was a kriffing nightmare. His best friend wanted to kill him. Boba actually laughed out loud at that; realising how ridiculous it sounded, before remembering what most of the other relationships in his life had been like. Aurra Sing, then his old gang consisting of Bossk, Dengar and Latts Razzi, then Jabba the Hutt.

Practically all the people he knew would like a shot at killing him.

Maybe that was why, when Astéri turned up again, he had hoped that for once he had met someone who wouldn't try to shoot him on sight. But he had no luck in that department, and it hurt. Really hurt.

Sitting up straighter, Boba steeled himself and turned towards the nav computer. Astéri probably hadn't realised how long she had been asleep, but it had been enough time to hand in his previous bounty, get paid, and acquire another one. Checking his brief, Boba mentally noted down the information. The target was a man named Nero Taskelli who had recently defected from the Empire. A private source had recently detected Taskelli travelling to the icy planet Hazor on the edge of wild space. Hazor had an imperial presence, but it wasn't exactly welcome; the locals weren't huge fans of the Empire, so his employer didn't want to send in a garrison of Stormtroopers and stir up an unnecessary fuss when he could simply send a bounty hunter.

As Slave I skidded through hyperspace, Boba received an incoming message on his transponder. Co-ordinates flashed across the screen, telling him exactly where and when Taskelli was last seen. A tiny island, free of any imperial outposts, situated in the middle of one of Hazor's three oceans. It was the perfect spot to hide, and in that respect, it was a terrible place to hide, because it was also the first place anyone would look.

Boba's first trip to Hazor could've been under better circumstances, but overall, it wasn't terrible. The planet had a kind of terrifying beauty to it, with sheets of ice towering out of a fathomless, dark sea.

Another thing of terrifying beauty found its way into Boba's head, but this time it was a person. Pushing his thoughts aside, he piloted Slave I towards the island on the horizon, bringing the ship skimming over the waves.

"Where are you going?"

Oh god, not this again.

"Talk to me. I'm bored. Where. Are. You. Going?"

Astéri was starting to get on Boba's nerves again. She had been pestering him with questions for a while now, and he was sick of it. "I'm going hunting."

"What, again?"

"Some of us have to make a living out of this, you know."

Astéri wrinkled her nose. "I happen to be one of those people making a living."

Smirking behind the mask, Boba gestured to Astéri's handcuffs, still chaining her to the bunk. "Not anymore, you're not."

Behind his back, Astéri let out a groan. "At least take me with you."

Frowning, Boba turned towards the girl. "Why would I do that?"

"It feels like I haven't had fresh air in weeks! You can keep me in handcuffs, but please, let me go outside!"

"What happens when I get into a fight? I just leave you standing there and hope you don't make a run for it?"

"What would be so bad about me making a run for it?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because... oh yeah, that's right, you'd kill me!"

Astéri sighed. The dejected look on her face put a hole through something in Boba's chest; she really did want to go outside.