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For a moment, the only sound in the thick, humid air was the chirping of birds. Bossk lowered his head and gave a full-throated snarl. “You.”
Boba Fett didn’t flinch. He stood there, bathed in scarlet light. Waiting. Watching.
Treasure hunting jobs were highly competitive on any world except Dathomir. Fett must have surmised, as he did, that most of the other hunters would be too scared or superstitious to take this one on.
Bossk shifted his weight, feeling the moss and stone beneath his feet. He could cross the dias of the old temple and seize the idol in seconds. Once he had possession of the merchandise, any interference by the other hunter would violate the bounty hunter’s code.
Trandoshans might not look fast but they were fast. Faster than any human. Fett was a pain in the ass, but he wasn’t the type to shoot a fellow hunter in the back.
Bossk went for it.
The fibercord grappling line from Fett’s gauntlet snaked around his legs, dragging him to his knees just short of his prize. He reached for his blaster, ready to sever the bounty hunter’s snare with his first shot and put a serious dent in some Mandalorian armor with the second one.
The stone floor beneath him shuddered. What-
He managed to wrap his fingers around the slender neck of the idol just before the stones crumbled beneath him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fett’s jetpack ignite and the cord tightened around his legs. His fall came to an abrupt halt, dislodging several tools from his belt and sending them plummeting into the darkness below.
Thanks to Fett’s snare Bossk was now swinging wildly upside down over a bottomless pit. A trap, forged by the original inhabitants. Fett’s arm was painfully extended, his jetpack roaring with the effort of holding them both up.
Bossk saw the stone wall of the pit just a millisecond before he slammed into it, hard enough to make him see stars. But even through the stars, he saw Fett reaching for the release switch on his gauntlet.
“Wait!” Bossk roared, waving the relic at him. “I’ll split the bounty with you.” And then, just to cover his bases, he waved the blaster still clutched in his other hand. “Drop me and I’ll swear on your shiny helmet I’ll shoot you on my way down.”
Fett’s gloved fingers stopped just short of the switch. Just when Bossk thought he might get lucky, one of the jets on the bounty hunter’s jetpack overheated with a sharp whine. They both dropped about ten meters and Bossk slammed into the wall twice more before Fett regained some control of their descent.
They were still falling, but a jerky, lurching fall. Bossk caught a glimpse of green jungle foliage just before the remaining jet burned out. It wouldn’t have been a bad landing if Fett hadn’t landed on top of him.
Bossk pushed him off, blindly trying to escape the heat from the overclocked jets. He still had his gun and the idol but he was tangled up in the fibercord and the thick vines in the underbrush. What-
A vine snaked across his throat, moving of its own volition. Bossk immediately went still and looked over at Fett, who was trying in vain to rise from his knees. The vines were already wrapped around his thighs and waist. “Be still!” Bossk hissed at him.
A slender green vine coiled around the bounty hunter’s neck. Even through his suit Bossk could smell his sweat, the sharp spike in adrenaline. Humans were such secretory beings. At least Fett had the good sense to listen to him. He stopped fighting, his armored chest falling and rising swiftly.
“The more you fight the more aggressive it becomes.” His reptilian blood made him less threatening to the plant, but it could still tear them both apart if the other bounty hunter panicked. “It’s a trapper. If we stay calm and relaxed it will release us. Eventually.”
Fett spoke in a carefully modulated tone. “How do you know?”
“We grow it on Trandosha.”
“You grow this on purpose?”
“It’s very popular with farmers. Keeps the warmbloods out of the fields.”
“Is it flammable?”
“Don’t even think about it. A vine of this maturity would take hours to burn and it can kill us in minutes” The vines were pulling at his arms, moving sluggishly but still moving. Bossk tried to relax his fingers without losing his grip on the idol. “You rely too much on your gadgets. Flamethrowers and grappling hooks and fucking jetpacks.”
“That fucking jetpack saved your legs, if not your life.”
Bossk hissed dismissively. “I’m not a puny human like you, Fett. My legs would have been fine if I wasn’t hanging upside down like a roasted gorg.”
“I could have dropped you on your thick lizard skull and I didn't. That means half the bounty is mine.” The vines around his torso stirred and Fett caught himself with a shuddering breath.
There was still a chance he might be the only one to make it out of this pit alive. Bossk tilted his head back, as far as he dared. The light was fading at the mouth of the pit. A difficult climb, especially in the dark, but not impossible.
“We can use my grappling hook,” Fett said, following the direction of his gaze. “If we can get it untangled. How long will it take for the plant to release?”
“Might be an hour or more. Might be less. Got to take it slow. Don’t want that to happen to one of us.” He jerked his head to Fett’s left. There was a corpse hanging on the wall of the pit, human, by the look of it. Decaying arms were wrapped tightly around a sapling tree growing out of the mossy stones, the leathery face frozen in a silent scream. The lower half of the body was violently detached and tangled in the vines below.
“Fuck,” Fett muttered. “I knew this bounty was too good to be true.”
“But you still came.”
“I’m not scared of witches.”
“Are you sure? They like human males, I hear.”
There was an audible snort behind Fett’s helmet. “Those stories are made up.”
Bossk inhaled deeply. “Your scent is pure. An untouched man might be a prize for a nightsister.”
“You can’t smell that.”
“Human pheromones change when they mate. You always smell exactly the same, and I’ve known you since you were a hatchling." When Fett didn't respond, Bossk ventured further. "That’s pretty old isn’t it, for a human to be unmated?”
Fett shifted and exhaled. “If you think I’m going to lose it and be torn apart by some demon vine just because you called me a virgin, you’re much dumber than I ever thought.”
Bossk gave a bemused hiss. “You’re right. I shouldn’t tease you. I am unmated myself, but unlike you, I will have a hundred years or more to distinguish myself and attract a suitable partner.”
“And you’ll die alone, because you’re a shit bounty hunter. Take up weaving or accounting instead.”
A laugh rumbled through Bossk’s chest. “I forgot how funny you are, Fett.” The vines had slackened noticeably around his legs, responding to his relaxed state. “There are many traits that make an attractive partner. If I was looking for a human mate I would want someone funny and prickly like you. I could wrap them in blankets to keep them warm and lick all of their parts.”
Fett’s helmet tilted towards him. A vine that had been twined around his waist dropped sleepily to the ground.
“See? If we stay relaxed we'll be out of here in no time."
“How can you lick someone wrapped in blankets?”
“I’d have to be in there with them, wouldn’t I? Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to reach everything. It might also help if the human was naked.”
“It might.” Fett moved just a little, adjusting his knees. The vines didn’t respond. In fact, it dislodged a few of the shorter ones. “You were right.”
“You should listen to me more often."
“I’m not sure you know much about human mating.”
“You think you know more? What would you do with a Trandoshan mate?”
Fett didn't answer for so long, Bossk thought he wasn't going to. “Every seen those gardens that rich people have? With the chairs you can lay on?”
“Hammocks?”
“No. Built like platforms that you can stretch out on.”
"I think I've seen them."
"If had a Trandoshan partner, I would find them a garden with chairs like that. I’ve seen what your skin does in the sun...when it's clean.”
Bossk let the dig go. The vines were falling away, flopping onto the ground as the plant powered down. “Mm. That sounds pretty good.” He tried to picture it. Basking in the sun was always good. “Would there be food in this garden?”
“Salted fish. I could...feed them to my mate.”
It was sort of appealing in a naive, human way. Someone sitting with him as he luxuriated in a sun, feeding him salty snacks. “Maybe some cold ale?"
“Of course."
"And then the licking?"
"...Sure."
It was harder to picture Fett in that scene, mostly because he hadn’t seen the man outside of his armor in years. Not that Bossk had any objection to the armor staying on if that was what he wanted.
No, wait. Why was he thinking of Boba Fett like this? They were rivals. Competitors. Maybe sometimes associates but definitely not mates. He adjusted his grip on his blaster and moved his arms experimentally. The vines were loose. Complacent.
“Back to work?” Fett queried.
“Yes. Back to work.” Once they reached the top, he would stun the other hunter and go collect his bounty. It was just business. Fett would understand.
Fett raised his gauntlet and anchored the grappling line at the mouth of the pit with practiced ease. “Maybe I should get one of those,” Bossk offered.
“It would make this a lot easier.” Fett grumbled in response. “Can you hold on?”
“Yes.” His blaster was easily holstered, but the idol was two awkwardly shaped to tuck in his belt.
“Here.” Fett gestured impatiently. “I’ll hold on to it. You hold on to me.” The vines stirred at their feet, roused by their activity.
Bossk gave him the idol and wrapped his arms around Fett’s torso. His armor couldn’t fully mask his lithe human frame, so slight compared to a Trandoshan. Bossk felt a sudden desire to wrap him blankets. It was very confusing.
The fibercord retracted, and they left the ground. The vines and brush melted into the shadows until the pit was a pool of darkness beneath them. Then they lurched to a sudden stop, still a few meters from the top.
“Don’t tell me we’re stuck.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth his gaze fell to the idol in Fett’s grasp and he realized his mistake. He'd given up possession of the merchandise.
But by then was too late to reach for his gun. Too late to stop the kick that made his head spin. Too late to stop himself from falling.
He landed hard, but just as he’d boasted to Fett, he landed without breaking a single bone. The vines swarmed over him, but he hardly noticed. His eyes remained fixed on the man in Mandalorian armor standing alone at the mouth of the pit.
He didn’t linger. He had a bounty to collect, after all.