Dead or Alive: Chapter 8
by: Rust
Arkanis sector, Tatoo system, Tatooine, aboard the Slave I...
Boba Fett was in a foul mood.
He gritted his teeth, once again thankful for his concealing visor. His frustration was partially justified, though.
His quest had been idle for far too long.
"Can't you work any faster?" he complained to the dirty astromech droid. They were down in the tiny engine room, made even smaller by Boba's after-market alterations. The Slave I had been fast before, but there was nothing wrong with a little more muscle under the hood, so to speak.
The engines worked fine. No, the reason he'd been stranded so long was the damage caused to his hyperdrive. It was a beast of a machine, fueled by a science so abstract it was almost sorcery. His customizations had allowed his ship to earn an astounding Class 0.7, where top-tier Imperial cruisers still ran on Class 2's.
There was only one ship he knew of that could run faster.
But in the meantime, the lack of hyperspace travel left him relatively marooned in system, lurking in the shadows behind Tatooine's major moon, Ghomrassen. It would take him a long time to cross the Galaxy on his backup hyperdrive; only a Class 8. Too long. Vader's time restriction echoed loudly in his mind.
Three days...
Well, he was already a day-and-a-half in, and it would take at least ten hours in the hyperlanes to get him to the coordinates the Dark Lord had provided for the drop-off.
Despite everything, Boba Fett felt a twinge of unease. He had personally bested some of the most dangerous, malicious life-forms in the known Galaxy. The Clone Wars had baptized him to malevolence and chaos, and a lifetime of hunting his dangerous prey had dulled his sense of righteousness... but Vader?
Darth Vader was on a whole other level of evil.
He did not want to cross that man if he could help it. The atrocities committed by the Dark Lord were as legendary as Boba's own exploits... Entire species had met their end, impaled on the end of an angry red lightsaber.
The few times their interests had conflicted over the years had given Boba a healthy respect for the Sith's prowess. Of course, that didn't mean he was above playing on the cyborg's notorious lack of patience to extort higher prices for services, but that was where he drew the line. Pissing contests were one thing...
Boba shook his head. No, they needed to get moving, and they needed to do it yesterday, lest he jeopardize the Fett family name's rise to immortality.
He aimed a kick at the astromech droid. "If that drive isn't operational in an hour, I'm giving you to the Hutts to serve drinks."
And by 'giving' he meant 'ejecting from high orbit.'
And then... trip to Mos Eisley, to steal the fastest ship he could find. There was no use kicking a dead bantha, even if he had sunk thousands of credits into the Slave I. The scrappy astromech belched at him, but redoubled its efforts nonetheless. Sparks flew from where it was busy patching up the damaged hardware. Boba left it there, stomping back up to the cabin, only to be transfixed once again by the hypnotizing gaze of his mysterious prisoner.
Oh, right.
He'd forgotten why the engine room had seemed so appealing, if only to escape her wounded expression. Gods above and below, was that actual guilt he was feeling?
He shuddered, plopping down into the cockpit and immersing himself in the HoloNet.
The armored alien had returned, pointedly ignoring her once again. Or was it? It was impossible to tell with that reflective visor. She studied it a few more moments, just to make sure. There had to be something about it she could use. The best case being some way to free herself of the strange metal choker that stymied her magic.
Celestia turned back to the... thing.
It had identified itself earlier, with some strange word she had never heard before. Droid. It was just a title, but she was beginning to understand what it might mean.
All living creatures emitted a small field, an ambiance of energy, so to speak. It was this that was the source of her spells and enchantments. While she had fuel within her to burn -- and ample stores of it, too -- there was a spark required to ignite her magic. Without the life-force, she was simply a sarcophagus of potential energy, with no way to unleash it. She suspected that the choker around her neck was directly inhibiting her ability to tap into this ever-present power, effectively crippling her magic by removing the necessary catalyst. Ingenious, really.
But the golden creature currently chattering away in front of her did not emit this life force.
It was as if a dead body had risen from the grave and was trying to talk to her! It was intelligent, she could plainly see that, and it even appeared to have a personality. And yet, it did not seem to be alive. In fact, it did not even seem to be made of flesh. Through the gaps in it's gold plating she could see a plethora of wires, deeper still she saw bones of metal.
Perhaps a spirit had been imprisoned within it. That was a likely explanation, though one she did not wish to believe. Was the thing a lich? Some kind of possessed artifact? Maybe even a poltergeist that had inhabited a puppet? Dark magic was afoot here. Either way, it was an abomination to life as she knew it.
Still, for an abomination, it was polite.
She decided that it was a type of golem. She supposed that was what droid meant.
"C-3PO," the droid said, pointing a finger towards its face.
"Swee. Trie. Prie-aw." She struggled to replicate the noises. Her tongue felt thick and clumsy. Oh, if only she had her magic, she could whip of a translation spell matrix in the blink of an eye! It had been too long since she'd struggled, actually struggled with learning. She envied her former apprentice. Twilight Sparkle had a frighteningly adaptable intellect, which would no doubt surpass her own over the coming centuries.
Still, at least the droid was communicating with her. That was something. Perhaps she could try and worm some information out of it.
Celestia prodded her choker with an ivory hoof. "What is this?" she slowly asked.
"Magic eenhibhitohr," said the droid.
Celestia blinked.
"Magic," the droid repeated.
"Force," C-3PO said.
"Force." The prisoner declared. Again, and this time with gusto, "Force!"
Beneath his helmet, Boba raised an eyebrow. The po'nii had spoken in perfect Common. And she was... smiling? It was the first expression he'd seen on her face other than terror, anguish, or the disturbingly peaceful expression she wore in combat. She laughed. That was a universal language. It was a beautiful laugh, like the chiming of temple bells. Boba felt his gut churn. Looking back at the display, he felt it fall to a simmer as he immersed himself in the expansive virtual world, idly scanning the local shipyard's inventory.
He set the display down, suddenly struck by inspiration.
I should buy a battlecruiser.
Heh. Naaah...
Arkanis sector, Tatoo system, Interplanetary space...
Far above the blistering deserts, a shape glinted in the starlight.
It slid smoothly of the planet's shadow, illuminating a battered and rusting hulk, shaped like a smoothed rectangle that cut through the ether with malevolent intent. It was large for its purpose, and bristling with firepower, but that suited the sole living occupant just fine.
Aboard, the dank atmosphere was polluted by a simply appalling stench. Huge, furry skins hung from the walls, tacked by crude metal spikes, some even dangling heavily by exposed, hissing pipes. Some were still dripping, former occupants only recently evicted. A rotting corpse on the galley's table had begun to undergo rigor mortis, a once-proud wookiee contorting into impossible angles, flesh hanging off it in grisly strips.
Nothing moved in the oppressive interior save for the skins themselves, stirred like grotesque puppets in the ventilation system's stale breeze.
The scent of death was everywhere.
At the bridge, a scaly hand tightened its grip around the command chair, an eerie green glow illuminating the owner. Slitted, reptilian nostrils opened and closed, breathing in the putrid air as if it were gaseous ambrosia. Draconic, slitted pupils greedily darted this way and that over the readings brought by the hovering holo-display, calculating, fantasizing, raging.
The hand clenched, powerful muscles gouging its claws deep into the metal armrest. A powerful frame leaned away from the light, basking in the aura of the slaughterhouse adorning every spare inch of space; a hunter, supremely confident of his skills and helplessness of his prey.
A soft rumble could be heard as the starship's engines described a sudden deceleration.
"Oh-ho-ho... I'm going to enjoy this, Fett."
The hunter lurched forwards, all-but punching a button on the console back into the machine. The display spat out a message.
>Ion cannon online
>Charge 100%
>Acquiring target... Firespray-31
>Firing on command.
"Eat hot plasma, mandalorian scum!"
Arkanis sector, Tatoo system, Tatooine, aboard the Slave I...
Several things happened at once.
Celestia's head snapped to, eyes wide as she struggled to move but still bound by steel cord. Her inner mind was screaming loudly, the instinctive connection to her magic blazing bright and seemingly trying to rip itself right out of her spine. All thoughts of bridging the language gap had been forgotten.
The droid recoiled, questioning her with garbled words, but she had no ear to hear its strange tongue.
Something bad was about to happen.
Something very, very bad.
She could feel a presence drawing close, still just a faint tickle in the back of her head but potent enough for her to recoil. Her nostrils flared. She smelled... rotting flesh. The alien and the droid were rapidly spitting words back at each other, the alien gesturing with frustration.
Then, the strange lights at the alien's console began to pulse a deep red, and harsh klaxon beginning to blare from somewhere in the room. He stared for a moment, seemingly stupefied, before he roared something inarticulate, then hit the deck.
A terrifyingly loud scream of thunder split the air. The floor dropped right out from underneath Celestia's hooves, and she followed it a moment later as everything not secured slammed into the metal floor, droid and alien included. A rumbling bass overtone could be heard in the background, slowly gaining strength.
All the lights in the room flickered once, then died. The familiar hum that had permeated everything suddenly vanished. What did it mean? Celestia's mind raced, sorely aware it was out of its element.
The alien was abruptly illuminated by a sharp light appearing from the helmet. By the swath of brightness, Celestia saw Swee Tre Prie-aw struggling on its back, seemingly turned turtle. She braced her shoulder underneath and rolled it over.
Loud bangs could be heard, nearby, but... muffled?
It took her a minute to realize they were coming from outside.
The were being boarded. And judging by the tenseness of the armored alien as he crouched behind the console, this was not something he had expected, either.
Celestia saw her chance. Whoever was assaulting the ship must know about her presence, or else why bother boarding instead of outright destroying the ship and be done with it? She could slip her captive and join up with the intruder! Of course... now she just needed a weapon of some sort to surprise him...
The scent of rot and decay was beginning to be overpowering.
In the jump, her bindings had loosened. Not much, but enough for her to awkwardly shuffle to her hooves, if she kept low. But the darkness would be a problem... Her eyes squeezed shut as a new source of light made itself known, the eyes of the metal 'droid' had lit up, casting another ribbon through the impressive darkness.
Abruptly, a bolt of red streaked past, ricocheting off the metal walls. Something could be heard roaring from further down the ship, a voice she had never heard before. The alien screamed something back, popping up from behind the console to fire a few blasts of his own from the sidearm at his hip.
"Psst!" she hissed, so as not to alert the alien. "Swretee Piyo!" She was sure she had garbled the name, but the droid turned to her, casting blessed illumination all around where she crouched.
There!
On the floor some sort of metal cylinder, almost the length of her forelimb, sporting a black striped grip and a few dials and buttons.
She quickly bent over and grabbed it in her mouth clamping down with her teeth so as to have a firm grip when she used it as a bludgeon.
Fwissshhhhhh!
In a split second, a solid beam of red light extended out from one end of the rod, slicing clean through the metal bindings immobilizing her limbs and cutting a small slash across the side of breast. It burned! A low, gentle hum filled the air. With a panicked squawk, she spat the thing out, the crimson beam vanishing instantly with a soft sssshwhp!
In front of her, the droid made a sound that seemed something between reverence and sadness.
"What in Equestria...?" she murmured.
Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. The red light beam had sliced through metal cable. She glanced down at the white choker around her neck.
Celestia resisted the urge to grin like a foal, picking the device up again in her mouth and...
...and suddenly realizing she had no idea how to turn it on.
She poked at it with her tongue.
Fwisssshhhh!
An angry cylinder exited from the tube, this time from the opposite end... strange. Never the less, this time she kept her grip and slashed her new weapon right at the choker's beeping console. It was destroyed spark and a hiss, although the blade was unable to cut through the white surface underneath. The choker remained around her neck, the circuitry smoking ruins.
But it was enough.
Oh, by the sun, it was enough.
A supremely empowering wash of heat and warmth erupted from her gut, finally let loose, flowing through her veins and bones to fill every inch of her body! Her ivory coat began to glow softly in the dark, her pink, hanging mane was once again struck through by a wash of brilliant color, shivering in a breeze that did not exist. She flexed and the constraints binding her wings snapped with a creak and a groan.
She spat the device out, holding it aloft in her resurgent telekinesis. Purely by accident, another bolt shot from down the dark corridor and hit the red blade, bouncing right off it! It then glanced off the back of the armored alien's head, who promptly turned and froze at the sight of her in her full majesty.
Celestia was upon him in an instant.
Boba felt himself slam into the back of his command console with such force the metal wrapped around his body. His breath exited his lungs in a rush, and he could have sworn he felt something crack. An ivory leg planted itself on his chest and pushed, pinning him with what felt like the weight of speeder.
For the first time in his adult life, Boba Fett felt afraid.
The cards were now stacked against him. If she didn't kill him, the scaly, slimy, shit-for-brains excuse for a bounty hunter currently firing potshots from around the corner would, and if he didn't... The Dark Lord of the Sith would. He was immobilized by a Force-wielding quadruped with a lightsaber. His ship was all but marooned. He could feel his legacy slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.
The spiraling horn atop her head began to glow, and Boba braced for the worst.
Then... a voice. An impossibly beautiful, yet terribly wise voice.
"My name is Celestia, Princess of Equestria, called the Dawnbringer, the Mother of Flame, and Champion of the Light. You have kidnapped me from my own bedroom, assaulted the people of my kingdom, and imprisoned me against my will. Give me one good reason why I should not slay you for the crimes you have committed against me, villain."
It took him several heartbeats to realize that she was actually the one speaking. When her mouth moved, the words he heard did not seem to match up. His eyes flicked to the glowing of her horn. She must be using some kind of Jedi sorcery to make herself understood... hopefully it worked both ways.
Boba rasped, "Listen, Celes--"
The lightsaber blade swung up, hovering an inch from his throat. He could hear it's hum in the back of his skull. Of course, it had to be that particular weapon. At least she hadn’t realized it had more than one blade...
"Princess Celestia," he hastily amended. "I'm Fett. Boba Fett. And -- I don't know if you've noticed but, you chose a really bad time for this." At her raised eyebrow, but lack of stabbing, he continued. "We've been boarded by one very pissed-off Trandoshan who seems intent on punching a hole in my ship from the inside with sheer poor marksmanship." At this, another bolt sped past, missing Celestia by inches. She did not flinch in the least.
"I am well aware. I intend to restrain you until they arrive to rescue me."
"RESCUE!?" Boba found it very hard not to burst out laughing at that. "Princess, the only thing that scabsucker around the corner wants with you are your wings nailed to a wall and your barely lifeless body in a jar. Bossk is a bounty hunter! And he's hunting you!" Suddenly, he could see light at the end of the tunnel. "...In fact, I had to kidnap you so that he couldn't get to you first!"
She didn't seem convinced in the least. "For what reason would there be a price on my head? How could I have earned the ire of somepony I've never met, Mister Foot?"
"Fett."
"I couldn't care less."
"Look -- I'm not entirely sure why someone posted a bounty. Or why it's such a large one." That wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie, either. The Empire's plans for her and her people had never been fully revealed to him. "But the fact of the matter is, Bossk will deliver you in pieces... dead or alive."
Her eyes narrowed, but in them he could see the faintest spark of uncertainty. "Why did you imprison me? Why the restraints and the miserable conditions? Why not simply tell me and spare me this awful journey!?"
"Would you have believed it if I had simply landed in front of your castle, waltzed inside and said, 'hello, someone's about to bust in here and shoot the place up, shove you in a cage, and take you halfway across the known Galaxy to be sold to the highest bidder!?"
"..."
"Hell's teeth, you're lucky I was the one to extract you. Bossk would have leveled the city! I did not kill a single person, I only used sedative-tipped darts --"
From around the corner came a hoarse scream. "FETT! OH, FETT! I CAN HEAR YOU PRAYING IN THERE! YOU BETTER MAKE YOUR PEACE AND MAKE IT FAST, BECAUSE I'M LEAVING YOUR SHIP WITH ANOTHER SKULL FOR MY COLLECTION! WHERE'D YOU HIDE IT, FETT!? COME OUT, COME OUT!"
Boba Fett smiled beneath his helmet and through his flashing HUD. Good 'ole Bloodlust Bossk. "See?"
Celestia frowned at something over the console, then looked back at him.
"Princess, I saved you from... that animal. You can smell it, right? That's his ship, he's docked with us. The Hound's Tooth. Go inside it and see for yourself what kind of monster you'd be siding with. I can help you, Celestia. I want to help you." Gods above, it hurt his black heart even say the word 'help.'
Another flurry of blaster bolts careened from the hallway. One of them just barely grazed the side of Celestia's jaw. She flinched, eyes wide, as if finally realizing the danger of the weapon, and crouched behind the console, still pinning Boba down with a single hoof and rubbing at the angry blaster burn with her other.
He suddenly realized the crimson lightsaber was no longer pointing at him.
"This will not be the first time I have saved your sorry hide, Boba Fett." Celestia closed her eyes, taking her weight off him. "Keep that in mind, next time you stab me in the back."
The lightsaber was suddenly brought into a whirling flourish around her head, and she leapt up and over the console, out of sight.
"OOOOH, FETT, I CAN HEAR YOU COMING, YOU WANT TO PLAY, HUH!? WELL ALRIGHT, LET'S... wait, who the hell are you? Wait, is that a --"
The sounds of combat erupted from behind him, several meaty thwacks and what seemed to be a body being repeatedly slammed into something hard and metal. More blaster fire. The dreadful humming of a lightsaber in motion.
Boba activated his helmet’s remote camera feed, a small length of wire coiling from the extension bolted to the side of its armor plating. Like a little worm, the wire stretched out and pivoted, a tiny lens at the end transmitting a live feed to his HUD. He could see everything from the corner of his eye.
He wished he hadn’t.
‘Celestia’ was a force of nature. She seemed to know exactly where the blasterfire would go, manipulating her saber in a terrifying red storm that arced and swirled about herself, the blade suspended in the air with her Force-powers.
“What the hell are you...? No, get away, get away!” Bossk retreated around the corner, the ivory wraith following with slow, ominous steps.
Celestia came to the corner and abruptly vanished in a gout of raging fire.
Boba felt his heart sink. He always did love that flamethrower. There goes the bounty, the starships, the legend...
Unbelievably, when the inferno cleared the po’nii still stood, glaring imperiously at something around the corner. There was not a trace of injury upon her — in fact, small tails of fire still smoldered harmlessly upon her fur and long, flowing hair. She barked something in her musical language, her long-handled lightsaber flourishing at her side.
She strode purposefully forward, around the corner and out of sight. Boba terminated the camera feed, once again forced to look out the window.
He could still hear it, though. The sound of wrathful roaring, an impressive amount of blasterfire, and that accursed hum of a lightsaber moving with purpose. Then, a heavy thud that actually shook the entire ship, followed by a disturbing gurgle.
And then, quiet.
Boba struggled, trying to pry himself out of the warped console that had conformed to the shape of his body. It must have caught on his jetpack, though, for he could not seem to pry himself free. His entire body ached. He then realized there was no way he was getting out of his predicament without the po'nii whom had entombed him there in the first place.
He began to think.
"Bossk!" whispered to himself. "I swear to all that is holy, I am going to sell you as a handbag!"
He and the Trandoshan bounty hunter had a long, checkered past. Necessity had often forced them to work as a team to bring in bounties undreamed of by the lone wolf. Grudging he might be, but Bossk had actually taught him a lot about the trade in his younger days. Mostly, they ended up betraying one another. Good times.
In hindsight, he shouldn't have been surprised that Bossk was interfering. They were rivals. How the hell had the Hound's Tooth even snuck up on him? It was a freighter for godsake. Bossk must have jammed his scanners, somehow...
Although, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was up.
Somehow, Boba's job wasn't so secret anymore. Bossk knew about his precious cargo. Moreso, he knew about how much she was worth. Hell, he must even know where and to whom she was to be delivered.
Somehow, word had leaked.
And if Bossk knew, everybody knew.
Boba's blood chilled in his veins. This job had not turned out like he had expected. It was supposed to be a simple snatch-and-grab, but no, the damnable dark po'nii from back on Equus had ripped him right out of the hyperlanes. He hoped her body was floating aimlessly through the cosmos, forever preserved as a monument to her own stupidity.
The bounty hunter leaned back his head, heavy helmet meeting console with an audible thunk.
"Master... I had no idea we were transporting a Jedi." Oh, right, he had forgotten about the fricking droid. C-3PO stood off to the side, bathing the dark cabin with its eye beams. It must have seen everything.
He snorted. "That's no Jedi." No, she was a far cry from the nigh-invincible Knights an Masters he had seen fight in the Clone Wars. They were utterly terrifying, masters of their strange and savage art. He had seen Jedi perform miracles. This po'nii, Celestia, she no doubt wielded that same power, but he doubted she had the same amount of experience as them, or even the same teaching. She was mere Padawan, and that was stretching it. Boba had killed plenty of those. In a fair fight, he was sure she would fall to him. "That's another breed entirely."
The slow, heavy thud-thud of hooves on metal announced said breed's return to the Slave I. She took her sweet time, eventually coming to a stop next to the window, looking out at the stars with an unreadable expression.
"I have dealt with the intruder," she said after a moment of contemplation. "The beast is back in his... c-craft."
Boba took that as a sign she must have gone inside the Hound's Tooth. He almost felt a pang of sympathy for her. The ship was a glorified slaughterhouse.
"You were right, Boba Fett. That monster would have proved to be my undoing, had I let him. And the savagery displayed... he would have felled a great many of my little ponies, if not out of collateral, then simple pleasure."
She turned to him.
"I will not thank you for inadvertently sparing them that atrocity. However, I will also not condone you for your methods."
Boba shrugged. "So what now, Your Worshipfulness?" If the sarcasm was noticed she made no reaction. "You need me to make your next move. And I won't be much use like this."
Celestia thought for a moment. He could almost see the little light flickering on in her skull. Her horn's glow pulsed, and he was ungracefully wrenched free of the console with a shriek of grinding starship parts. He dangled helplessly a couple feet above the deck.
Helpless.
Aboard his own ship!
How the tables had turned, at least for the moment.
"For now, I suspect we must flee this place." Celestia finally set him down, none too gently. "I am a stranger to your ways and this society, though I would hazard a guess that more bounty hunters may yet attempt to hinder us should we remain in the same place."
"We can't go anywhere until the hyperdrive is fixed."
Her face screwed up in confusion. "Show me."
Boba led the po'nii down the hallway. He noticed the plating had been deformed and marred by blaster fire and the longer, more destructive slashes of a lightsaber. He hadn't seen that kind of battle damage in years. "Did you kill him?" Boba asked.
"No."
He snorted. "Should have." He paused at the main doorway to the outside. It was opened, and it seemed the Hound's Tooth was still connected to the Slave I by means of airlock. He was grateful for his helmet's air-filtration system, because judging by the way Celestia was covering her nose, the stench must be overwhelming. With a grimace of disgust, he reached into the airlock and slammed the disengage. A heavy door rolled across the gateway, though not before he casually chucked a thermal detonator inside.
Boba closed the Slave I's hatch and descended down to the engine room.
Celestia followed, saying, "What did you throw in--"
KRACK-OOOM!
The detonator exploded, no doubt rupturing the Tooth's airlock. The freighter disconnected from the smaller craft, drifting away into orbit around one of Tatooine's moons. There was really no practical reason to trigger the ship's atmospheric depressurization alarm, aside from the automatic compartmentalization, which would trap Bossk wherever he was for a little while. That, and he just like beating on the putrid thing.
"Some extra time," he droned.
Celestia made no reply, but he could feel her frown on the back of his head.
They squeezed into the cramped engine room, where the astromech droid was still busy at the 'drive, sparks flaring from where it worked. "Pree-whoot! Brrrp-mrrrp," said the droid when he kicked it.
"I would ask that you not use such foul language, sir," Celestia huffed.
Boba stared at her.
"...What?"
He shook himself, realizing it must be the sorcery powering her sudden ability to communicate. And now she spoke 'droid! Wonderful.
"Peep-boop, bre-e-et?" said the astromech.
"Hmmm? No, I've made an arrangement."
"Bedededede-boop!"
Celestia cast a sidelong glance at him. "Yes, I agree wholeheartedly, he is rather irate, isn't he?"
Boba could feel his blood pressure rising.
"Deelee-deedee-doo."
"Is that so? Let me have a look, Mister...?"
"Woo-peep-dee-doo."
"Artoo? Splendid..."
Celestia and the droid hunched over the hyperdrive. Boba hovered behind them, curious as to what was going on, and a little frustrated at not being included. The droid and the princess began a hushed conversation. The bounty hunter lasted nearly five minutes of this before saying, "Well?"
Celestia stood. "Well, I am able to allow your... hyper-drive... to function again. It seems an internal power coupling has ruptured, according to Mister Artoo. I can supply the necessary energy needed to bypass the break entirely. Simply activate it, and I shall do the rest."
"You?" Boba palmed the visor of his helmet. "Listen, I don't think you're familiar with the sort of energy we're dealing with here. This stuff is so advanced, to your people it must be magic."
A crackle of lightning ran along the lines of her horn, illuminating an infuriatingly confident smirk. "I fail to see the issue, Mister Fett."
Boba scowled. "Fine."
"But."
Oh, sweet baby sarlacc in the cradle... He tried to remain civil. He needed her, he reminded himself. "Yes?"
"We travel only where I wish, and only by my say."
Boba gaped at her. "You can't possibly be serious."
"Afraid so," she narrowed her eyes. "With my powers restored once more, I can sense that I am not alone in my predicament. Somewhere out there, my sister, Luna, is alive and must have found refuge somewhere. I intend to find her before I plan my next move."
Luna? How could another po'nii have been...
Boba felt a massive headache come on. "She's not sort of darkly colored, is she?"
"Why, yes, how did you know?"
"...May have run into her once or several times."
Celestia blinked. "I can show you the general direction to where we must travel, but you must navigate us there yourself."
Boba shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. There is no way in Jabba's sweaty buttcrack that I am --"
Hyperspace, aboard the Slave I...
"-- actually doing this," Boba muttered slowly bumping his helmeted head into the console. Outside the cockpit, the hypnotizing streaks of hyper speed blurred past. He checked the ship's speed, resuming his repeated bumping when he noticed that they were now traveling at what seemed to rank the Slave I as a Class .5 hyperdrive.
She's actually going faster now than ever before, Boba lamented. Down below, an eerie rumble signified Celestia's union with the ship, an unholy pink light emanating from underneath the metal grills of the floor.
Boba eventually fell asleep in the chair, finally succumbing to the call of the dreamland after a long and treacherous ordeal. He slept surprisingly well, all things considered.