Star Wars: Imagines

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Prompt:
(Y/N) is a bounty target of the notorious Boba Fett.

Requested by MidasIsMine

She/Her❥

1st POV
♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎♡︎

"Here's your drink, sir!" I smiled brightly while bringing the young Kassk his requested beverage. His long yellow fingers extended and took hold of the glass; nodding in thanks, before downing the entire neon-orange drink without taking a breath.

                  This was common at the bar— The Slumberous Nexu. I was a manager, but half the time, my employees never show up, so I have to serve tables and get drinks instead of my actual job. The owner, a Snivvian by the name of Rask'l, helped me throughout the turnovers, which made my work experience much easier,

                 "Mind looking to hire a cook?" Rask'l questioned while scooping through the cash register, "I think Randle is going to quit soon."

                 "Why do you think that?" I asked while sitting down on the bench in front of the order counter, leaning my head into my hand, "I thought he liked his job?"

                  Randle was a Besalisk, and a mean one at that. I wouldn't say I blamed him though. If I had an opportunity to get off this rock and live to be something better than a manager at a disgusting, second-rate bar in the middle of the outer rim.

I then returned to making drinks for customers. Zoning out was easy enough when one is mixing drinks— it's become second nature to me.

While mixing a complicated cocktail, the front doors to the establishment opened and closed rapidly. Poking my head around the corner, a man in green and white Mandalorian armor strutted in, peering around,

"Take a seat wherever you'd like, hon!" I yelled towards him, "I'll be with your shortly!"

I could feel his eyes on me even without seeing them. That helmet could only conceal so much, especially after being in this business for so long. He wanted something... information perhaps.

               Strolling over after finishing the drinks, I plopped down in the seat in front of the man and smirked, "Whatcha need, stranger?"

                  He didn't reply. His actions spoke for themselves. The bounty hunter revealed a bounty puck from within his pocket; my face floating and spinning slowly, shaded in an ominous blue, "I recommend you come quietly," he whispered, "Wouldn't want to get your floors too messy, hmm?"

                   I felt nauseous. What have I been accused of? Why was there a bounty on my head? I couldn't pinpoint the answer— I've never done anything illegal in my life. Of course I have given away free drinks occasionally, but never enough to earn a bounty worth 14,000 credits,

                "May I ask why I have a bounty on my head first?" I croaked out, suddenly losing my charismatic attitude.

                 The unnamed bounty hunter whipped out a pair of cuffs, and motioned for me to rise from my seat, which I obliged quietly. The cold metal around my wrists just sent me into a downwards spiral,

                 "I never ask questions while on the job," he commented, yanking me towards the door.

                   All the customers and employees' eyes were locked on me, but there were no words exchanged. It hurt the most that Rask'l didn't even question it. I've worked with him for half my life, and not even a word about my apparent arrest,