Chapter Text
The Millennium Falcon is smoking.
“I told you to get a new ship.” Leia hisses. Her knuckles are white where she’s gripping onto the straps of her seatbelt. Luke is staring out the side of the cockpit, watching sort of dazedly as smoke billows past them from one of the engines. He may have hit his head in that brief period of time immediately after the engine failed and they were flying vertically rather than horizontally.
Chewie says something. Luke’s head hurts a bit too much to attempt to translate.
“Chewie’s right,” Han says firmly. “We can’t abandon her. She’s been so good to us for so many years now.”
“Land this ship right now.” Leia demands. Another series of alarms start going off in a very high pitched and annoying way. Luke closes his eyes so he doesn’t accidentally throw up from all the strobing and flashing.
Han leaves all the desperate switch flipping and button pressing to Chewie and carefully considers the map. “Looks like Tatoonie is our best bet.”
“I don’t care if it’s Umbara or Coruscant, I want this ship to land before we crash into a moon.” Leia says.
“It’ll be like the good old days. Back on Tatoonie again. Slaying slugs and dancing and stuff.” Luke sighs. Leia slowly turns her head to glare at him. He shrinks a little. Leia can be scary when she wants. She stares at him for a very long time, actually. Or maybe not that long. He can’t tell, his head hurts.
“Nevermind that,” Leia says, all her fury suddenly snapping back onto Han, “My brother’s head better be in one piece or don’t expect to see another day in this ship or on any planet again, Han Solo.”
“Yes Boss.” Han says. Chewie grunts at him and he frowns. “No, Chewie, I don’t. Thanks for that insightful question.”
Luke really needs a nap.
“We’re entering atmosphere now.” Han says. There is a shocking bout of turbulence that nearly makes Luke swear that they were flying sideways again before the ship makes a few pathetic shudders and rights herself. “I’ll check in with Mos Eisley, they usually have good mechanics.”
Leia turns to Luke and studies him very intently as Han contacts the city. She doesn’t really look a lot like Luke, when he thinks about it, eyes more almond shaped then his, face and nose thinner than his as well. She takes after their dad more in that regard, he thinks, though he might be imagining it, due to the concussion.
Leia then ducks her head down and sighs. Luke can feel the wave of regret roiling off of her, mixed in with a little guilt. Luke feels a little bad, this was supposed to be a fun family holiday but now they're emergency landing on the planet where Leia was enslaved for a bit. Maybe they should have gone to Spira, instead of trekking out to the Outer Rim in hope of not being recognised. Maybe they should just get used to being famous.
“Bad news.” Han says. “We’re landing outside the city. They didn’t give us permission to land. Get ready.”
“Ah,” Luke mumbles, squinting across the sand. “Looks like Boba Fett’s made some friends.”
He waits a little for Han’s temperature tantrum to slow so he can process what Luke’s just said. Sure enough, there’s a moment of silence, then the sound of shifting sand and the crinkle of fabric as Han makes his best attempt to run up the sand dune.
“What?” Han cries, grabbing onto Luke’s shoulder with a very firm grip. He’s panting, very loudly. Luke slowly points at the three figures emerging from the distant heat waves with wrathful furies.
“Kriffing hell, is that another Mandalorian? Holy shit! Is that Fennec Shand? Fuck, we are so dead. So, so dead.” Han slowly falls onto his knees and stares despondently at the sand. His hand is still on Luke’s shoulder. “I can’t believe that Boba Fett is more popular than me.”
“I don’t think that he’s more popular than you, per say.” Leia says. Luke jumps, he hadn’t even noticed she was there. He thought she was still helping Chewie with the smoking wreck that used to be the Millennium Falcon. “Perhaps you just have more enemies than him.”
“I don’t think so. Everyone I know hates Boba Fett. Maybe someone’s put a bounty on me? Those are three pretty well known bounty hunters. Maybe Fett got help.” Han argues.
“I really doubt that anyone would have put a bounty on you, Han. You’re a Republic hero.” Luke says.
“Bounty hunters can hunt Republic heroes.” Han says, weakly. Fett and his entourage are getting closer by the second.
“Assassins hunt Republic heroes. Bounty hunters are with the guild. At least they have some regulations.” Leia replies.
“Bounty hunters can be assassins too.”
“Three of them? At once? In broad daylight?” Luke says incredulously. Wow, they really are close. A few more sand dunes and they’ll be within blaster range. “How did you know that Mandalorian was a bounty hunter anyway?”
“Most of them are,” Han replies, sighing. Luke’s knees almost buckle and Han decides to put all of his weight on Luke’s shoulder to lever himself up. “Plus that one frequents Tatoonie. I’ve seen them around.”
“Hmm.” Leia says. She’s looking at Han looking at his blaster.
They all stare at the encroaching group. Luke wonders how Han identified them so quickly, he is only just beginning to see the details of the bounty hunters as they get closer. The extra Mandalorian is decked out in full beskar armour, which must cost a ridiculous amount. Luke isn’t sure where Mandalorians get their armour but he has seen a ridiculous amount of knockoffs and weapons, and he knows they don’t come cheap. He’s also got some sort of rifle slung across his back, which Luke doubts is his only weapon. The other bounty hunter- Fennec Shand- has a black and orange helmet on, a rifle too, and full black combat leather, which cannot be sustainable in this heat. Boba Fett, alive and well, with his armour on, is shouting something. Luke does not understand whatever he’s saying, and is a little uncertain it’s in basic. He’s also waving his blaster around, which is better than having it pointed at them, but still not great.
Han goes for his blaster.
“Do not.” Leia says. Her voice is ice cold.
Han lowers his blaster.
“I truly love you, dearest, but there is a madman and his hunter friends coming directly for us and also last I remember we pushed him into a sarlacc pit and also he’s holding a blaster and also he is going to kill me.” He says.
“We?” Luke asks disbelievingly.
“Well thank you for that delightful insight, dearest, but you shoot one of them, and the rest of us are dead. And considering we are not dead yet I’d like to hope perhaps there is another reason for this meeting other than senseless killing.” Leia returns. She moves to stand in front of him, the blaster hovering uncertainly in the air in between them.
“I’d like to think I wouldn’t die.” Luke chimes in. “And Chewie is pretty tough. He could make it.” The shouting of Fett is loud enough to clearly make out by now, and it’s definitely not Basic. Maybe Huttese, which Luke hasn’t heard in a while due to it being spoken nowhere near Crouscant and everywhere near the Outer Rim. Lately, Luke has been everywhere near Crouscant and nowhere near the Outer Rim. He turns his eyes from the very intense staredown between Han and Leia to check in on Chewie. He’s heard Fett’s shouting and is slowly making his way up the dune, casting an anxious look at Han and Leia.
“Any luck with the ship, Chewie?” Luke asks. He lets out a mournful noise that Luke can correctly identify as no in Shyriiwook. He then points at Fett et al. and says something that Luke think means what the fuck is going on.
“Leia doesn’t think they’re here to kill us,” Luke says, at the same time that Fennec Shand reaches the crest of the dune opposite them and yells “WE ARE NOT HERE TO KILL YOU,” effectively drowning out any raving of Boba Fett. Luke has a feeling that Fett is not of the same inclination.
They have to wait a bit as Shand elegantly slides down the dune and walks up to stand in front of them and as Fett stomps down like the sand killed his mother. The Mandorlorian shifts a little on the sand dune opposite and then seems to come to the conclusion that they’re fine where they are.
Fett reaches the top of their sand dune first and immediately points his blaster in Han’s face. Han almost immediately has his blaster in Fett’s face. There is an obvious winner to this confrontation, given Fett’s beskar helmet, so Luke unclips his lightsaber from his belt.
“No killing,” Shand reminds as she comes up behind Fett. “Blasters down, please, boys.”
Neither move.
There’s a sharp ping as a blaster bolt ricochets off the back of Fett’s helmet. He whips his head around furiously to glare at the Mandalorian, who is pointedly pointing at the ground in a silent repetition of Shand’s request.
Fett lowers the blaster, slightly. Shand pushes it all the way down for him, then turns her pointed glare at Han.
Han lowers the blaster.
“Lovely,” Leia says.
There is a brief silence where Fett and Han revel in glaring at each other while Luke sizes them up. Shand looks bored, relaxed, and like she’d very much rather be somewhere else. The Mandalorian is harder to figure out, with all their armour, except when Shand turns around at one point and lifts up her visor to make a face at them, which makes their shoulders shake in an imitation of laughter.
“Right.” Fett starts, one Shand elbows him in the side and he’s broken out of his staring match (which went for an impressively long time on Han’s part, since Fett’s helmet isn’t particularly revealing in the eye department). “I’m here to inform you that you have trespassed beyond the allowed boundaries for the Millennium Falcon, and in order to rectify such there must be some retribution or at the very least some form of tribute to the Diamyo is in order.” Fett orders, through gritted teeth.
Leia blinks in surprise.
“I didn’t even know you could speak so eloquently,” Han says.
“I didn’t even know your face could get more blastable.” Fett hisses back.
“You did sound a bit like a politician.” Shand remarks. She makes some sign to the Mandalorian and they start slipping their way down the dune towards them.
“Who made the law around the Millennium's airspace of Tatoonie?” Leia asks, ever the politician. Her expression is souring, though Luke can’t tell if it’s because of Han's very recent propensity towards wanting Fett to kill him or Fett’s propensity to wanting to kill Han.
“The Daimyo.” Fett replies shortly.
“That feels very targeted. Who’s the Daimyo? Perhaps we can reach a compromise.” Leia asks. Luke doesn’t quite remember who succeeded Jabba the Hutt, but he’d followed the news as closely as he could following Jabba’s death. He had to be certain that Tatoonie didn’t fall into another Hutt’s slimy hands. He doesn’t remember the name of the successor, though. Pib? Bip?
“Me.” Fett says, suddenly sounding very, very gleeful even through the vocoder.
Leia’s face sours. Han lets out a few rough, hacking coughs of surprise. Chewie slowly places a hand on Han’s back, probably to offer some form of comfort.
“So then would I be correct in guessing you are not favourable to a compromise?” Leia asks. Fett nods once, decisively. Luke is suddenly very glad that Fett has his helmet on, because Luke doesn’t think he would be able to deal with both the amount of smugness emanating from him in addition to the smugness of his expression.
“What would be a suitable tribute be, then?” Leia smiles, all teeth. It’s the scary smile she makes when someone does something to piss her off, like track mud through her apartment even when she told him not to or crash her speeder even when she told him not to or accidentally trap her in a store room for three hours so she wouldn’t interfere with any plans of smuggling even when she told him not to or generally do something that Leia tells han not to do.
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe- uh, Mando, how much?”
“Ogir cuyire birov vhekad o’r ner cetare. Vi ke nu gana at viinir.” The Mandalorian mumbles, appearing behind Fett like magic. He’s holding a small wooden chest in his hands, which definitely wasn’t there before. Luke isn’t entirely sure where it came from. The Mandalorian isn’t wearing any bags.
The Mandalorian tilts the box back and opens it to look at the empty inside. “I think 40,000 credits could fit in here.” He says, shrugging. Shand leans over behind Fett to look inside too, and nods in agreement.
They freeze. Chewie makes a distressed sound which Luke is pretty sure isn’t Shyriiwook and just a distressed sound. He tries to refrain from doing the same. Leia’s eye twitches. It’s a funny habit that Luke has started to notice a lot more since she’s become a senator.
“Are you crazy?” Han blurts out. “No one carries 40,000 credits with them! That’s an insane amount! My ship costs that!”
“It definitely costs less then that now.” Leia mutters.
“We also take peggat. Or Mon Calamai Flan. Whatever makes the 40,000.” Fett adds.
“There’s no way we can pay that.” Luke says, stepping forward. Leia makes a desperate flappy gesture with her hand that means he should stop talking. He ignores her. “That’s ridiculous to ask. There’s gotta be something else we can do.”
“Work for me.” Fett says immediately. Luke has the distinct feeling he was walked right into a trap. Or maybe into a sarlacc pit. Maybe this is karma.
“What?” Han chokes.
“Work for me. I’m Daimyo now, lots of jobs to be done. You four can work until your debt is paid off, and we’ll even let you stay working until you have enough to repair that bucket of junk behind you.” Fett makes a sweeping gesture. “Or you can pay the 40,000.”
“I don’t even get paid that much a year.” Leia scowls. Fett shrugs, an indifferent, callous gesture. His hand rests on his belt, by the blaster, and the bounty hunters have shifted so they both flank him directly. He’s obviously growing tired of this conversation- it’s quickly turning into something dangerous, and as much as Luke does not want to be in debt to Boba Fett, he wants to make sure someone doesn’t die more.
“Fine, we’ll take your offer,” Leia says, despite the fact that it was never up to negotiation anyway. She seems to have realised the same thing as Luke did, and the way that the bounty hunters shift, not relaxing but refocusing, mean that they probably just avoided a full on shoot out. “But you have to agree that as a senator, I cannot do anything publicly that condones your actions.”
“Tough luck, princess, you’ll do what I say,” Boba commands, waving at them with his blaster. Leia’s shoulders tighten, and a sour expression overcomes Han’s face, which does not happen often. “You and the Wookie, with Fennec. Solo and the Jedi, with Mando. Cuff ‘em.” He says, then suddenly his jetpack roars to life and he flies off into the sky.
“Dramatic fuck.” Fennec sniffs.