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The
Black Armour 1999 short story by Louis Turfrey Eight years before Episode IV
- A New Hope. The man stood with his back to the main entrance
to the cantina. Boba Fett moved in through the crowd, people parting in front
of him, like a Guba Fish fin parts the water. He approached the man at the bar,
not letting his guard down at any time. The man turned to face Fett and
smiled. He was about thirty years old, tall, built like an athlete. His face
was hard and his eyes betrayed a keen intelligence. When he spoke, his voice
was a deep baritone, rumbling from his chest. “Mister
Fett. Shall we take a seat?” Without waiting for a reply the man moved over
towards one of the private booths. Boba Fett followed and sat down opposite.
He wasn't offered a drink. He didn't need one. The man spoke again. “I have
a bounty that needs collecting. The gentleman's name is Tarrion Randelle.
He's a mercenary. I want him alive. The reward is ten thousand credits. He
can be found at this location.” The
stranger passed him a data chip. “The delivery address is also on the chip.
There is one catch though - he's armed and very dangerous.” He leaned back in his chair. “Do you want the
assignment?” Boba Fett reached out and took the chip. He nodded and at the same time said.
“Fifteen thousand, and I'll bring him back
alive. Ten thousand and I can't guarantee his safety.” The stranger nodded. The deal was set. Slave 1 dropped out of hyperspace above the planet
Corellia. Traffic was heavy and Fett noticed two Imperial Star Destroyers
parked in orbit. Contacting port control, he arranged for an atmospheric slot
that would drop him near his quarries location. Within minutes he was
powering through the atmosphere towards the location his employer had
provided him. The estate stretched on for several kilometres.
Fett had landed just outside the walls over an hour ago. He had done a full
passive sweep and had detected only minimal defensive measures. He had
disabled them easily, but something about this didn't ring true. No one had
alarm systems that lacklustre on an estate of this size. Fett moved forward slowly, scanning the immediate
area with all the multi-spectral imaging that his helmet scanner could
generate. Something moved. Two guards, hidden from view by nearby bushes,
were taking aim. Fett dived forward, rolling over as he did so. A Blaster
bolt singed through the air where his head had been. Fett took aim with his
wrist blaster and took down the two men with two shots. Fett got to his feet
and walked over to where the two men writhed in pain. Neither of them matched
the details he had been given. He stunned the one man and disarmed the
second. Reaching down he lifted the injured man to his feet. “I'm
looking for Tarrion Randelle. Where can I find him?” The man cringed but didn't answer. Fett tried
another tactic. Reaching down to his belt he removed a small box and opened
it, letting the man see what was inside. The man gasped. A small insectoid
creature moved around inside the box. Looking like an armoured worm, it had
two curved mandibles near one end and a filament like tail near the other. “This is
a Bandii Worm. They kill their victims by eating their way back through the
eye socket and into the brain. All the time keeping their victim alive by secreting
a paralysing enzyme. The enzyme only paralyses selected muscles though. You
can usually hear the victim’s screams for several days. Once in the brain
they start to burrow, until they create an area large enough to lay their
eggs. The eggs hatch out within twenty-four hours and eat the victim alive
from the inside out. It is a very painful and terrible way to die.” Boba Fett
dropped the worm on to the side of the man’s face. The man started to sweat.
“Now. Where is Randelle?” The man proved to be rather helpful. Shame then that the paralysis had affected
his vocal chords. Fett had all the details of the pass codes and a complete
list of sentry locations. It took him only fifteen minutes to get to the main
house. He had been told his target would be training at this time of day and
would most likely be wearing full armour. Fett hoped he would be fully armed
as well. He liked a challenge. The two fought savagely in the open courtyard. One, a humanoid, was fully encased in shiny black
body armour. The other, an aged, nomadic Ferrerean wore the loincloths and
ceremonial skull helmet associated with his race. Fett had only seen a few
Ferrereans. They were a race that kept themselves aloof from most of the
galaxy. Boba Fett looked on in disgust from his vantage point. The armour the
man wore was Mandalorian, like Fetts own, but was too clean to have been
original. The elderly Ferrerean leapt forwards, bringing his oddly designed
spear over his head as he did so. The spear arced down at tremendous speed,
disarming his opponent who rolled away from the impact. Tarrion was good.
Fetts estimation of his opponent rose a notch. The Ferrerean moved in for the
kill, bringing his spear around his middle like a scythe. Fett was sure that
the man called Tarrion would be sliced in two. Instead of dodging the blow,
he dropped backwards. The spear flashed over him, he rolled with his
momentum, caught the spear from behind and yanked it away from the Ferrerean.
While his opponent was still off balance, he jerked the end of the spear
upwards, catching the Ferrerean under the jaw and lifting him off of his
feet. The Ferrerean hit the ground hard, and although still breathing, didn't
get up. Tarrion bowed to his opponent, twirled the spear over his head and
buried it blade first into the ground. He was turning away when he noticed
Boba Fett stalking towards him. Fett walked slowly, his gun raised. He stopped
just outside of Tarrions reach. Levelling his gun at his targets chest. At
this close proximity Fett noted again that although the armour was highly
polished, it wasn't new. The man nodded his recognition, speaking calmly and
betraying no trace of breathlessness. “So we
meet at last, Boba Fett. I have studied your career for some time. My father
said you were a man of honour…once. He knew your father. They are both dead now.” The last sentence was
spoken with some regret. Boba Fett didn't need the lecture. He flicked his
Blaster from stun to kill. “I have
a bounty to collect. Dead or alive. Which will it be?” Fetts manner was all business. This man was of
concern to him. Few people took an interest in his affairs - those that did
usually didn't live for long. The man showed no alarm or surprise. He merely
spoke. “Perhaps
we can come to some agreement. I'll double whatever you've been offered. Just
give me a chance to get away. One chance.” His stance had altered slightly.
Fett didn't take chances. He fired his Blaster. The bolt passed through thin air. Tarrion leapt sideways, flicking a hidden switch
on his belt as he did so. The Blaster bolt missed by fractions of an inch. He
hit the ground, thanking the gods that he had trained and studied with
Ferrereans for so long, and rolled towards his weapon. He felt another bolt
hit his armour, the heat dissipation equipment cutting in to remove the
danger. He grabbed his gun, rolled again and fired. Boba Fett wasn't there. A
roar of thrusters told Tarrion that Fett had gone airborne. That’s how he was able to pick me off so
easily. Tarrion activated a series of buttons in his helmet whilst
running for cover. A Blaster bolt tore up the ground behind him. Not looking
back, he leapt into the air, his momentum carrying him a full five metres,
until his own rocket pack cut in. Flicking control switches he pointed
himself straight up and hit the boost. Boba Fett was only distracted for a second whilst
he activated his rocket pack and became airborn. His quarry had used his
weapons disadvantages and dodged the blast. The enhanced Blaster that Fett
used only focused accurately beyond two metres. Fett wanted this man alive.
His second blast hit the armour of his target, but showed no effect. Fett
switched to infrared and noticed an increase in heat where the bolt had hit.
He was impressed. Mandalorian Commando Armour was very expensive and very
hard to find. He altered the angle of his attack, laying down ground fire to
try and distract his target. No such luck. Tarrion jumped and boosted
straight up, nearly slamming into Fett and causing him to drop his Blaster
and veer off wildly. Fett was getting annoyed. He liked a challenge,
but this should have been an easy job. He'd remember to ask for more money
next time. Tarrion pulled off a couple of shots, but they weren't precisely
aimed. Fett raised his arm and released a capture cable. The robotic
heat-seeking dart sped off towards his quarry, wrapping itself around his
leg. Tarrion was trapped. Both men pulled wildly at each other, rocket packs
straining. Each one trying to slam the other into the ground or nearby
shrubbery. Several times Boba Fett came close to being bested, but every time
his superior skill saved him. It was an unfair battle. Fetts pack was more
powerful and had more fuel. After ten minutes of aerial combat, both men were
feeling the strain. Fett decided to end it. He flicked a switch on the cable
launcher and a high voltage shock travelled down the line. Tarrion twitched,
spun in mid air and dropped like a stone. Half a kilometre above the ground,
Boba Fett released the cable. Tarrion felt the shock through his suit and
momentarily blacked out. He came too about two seconds later as he hurtled
towards the ground. Diagnostics in his helmet showed that his rocket pack had
been damaged and was in operable. He cursed. Flipped some switched on his
belt and activated his Grav-chute. Boba Fett watched Tarrion land gently and was
amazed to see he didn't run. Tarrion dropped his Blaster to the ground and
picked up the oddly shaped spear, starting to spin it as he did so. Boba Fett
landed about ten metres in front of him. Somehow Fett knew this wasn't over.
He pushed a button on his belt and the now empty rocket pack dropped to the
floor. He walked forwards slowly now; blaster raised, and started to fire. Tarrion walked over to the Ferrerean spear and
pulled it from the ground. He took a stance and started to spin it. Slowly at
first, but getting ever faster, the spear rotated in a figure of eight. It
hummed as it sliced the air. Boba Fett's first blasts hit the spear at full
force and were deflected. The spinning blade sliced them off in every
direction but Fetts. Fett continued to fire, getting closer now, only eight
metres. Time seemed to slow for Tarrion. He saw the bolts move toward him, as
if in slow motion, and deflected each one as it grew near. He felt a familiar
peace as his body relaxed into the spin. The spear became an extension of his
body. The air became alive with the crackle of plasma energy and the spear
started to glow as it dissipated the heat. Tarrion knew as the bolts came
nearer that he wouldn't be able to deflect them for long. He concentrated
harder. Fett was impressed by his quarry, but he knew it
would soon be over. He rarely smiled to himself nowadays and certainly not
whilst working. He eased himself forward, a grin forming on his face as, his
pulse racing, his confidence rising, he brought his wrist lasers to bear. Even though Tarrion was one with the weapon, he
didn't want to hurt Fett. He wanted only to prove that he was a worthy
target. His father had once told him that to gain the right to wear Mandalorian
armour, he must first best another warrior in open combat. No warriors were
known to exist any more. Fett was the nearest thing to one. And so Tarrion
would prove his mettle. The bolt came straight back at Fett, hitting him
squarely in the chest. He was knocked backwards, off his feet and hit the
ground hard. Before he could catch his breath Tarrion had disarmed him and
was standing over his prostrate form. He held the spear inches from Fetts
throat. Unknown energies crackled down its length. Fett remained motionless.
His assailant spoke. “This is
a Ferrerean Soul Spear. It is priceless. To handle this spear you must have
the perfect mindset. It is thought that the Ferrereans use it to steal the
life force from their opponent, adding it to their own. I've never tried
it…but I will if you move again.” Tarrion moved around him, pinning the arm with the
wrist lasers onto the ground with his foot. He plucked a small Holo-cam from
his belt and aimed it at Fett. “Do you,
Boba Fett, freely admit that I, Tarrion Randelle, have fairly beaten you in
armed combat.” Fett didn't say a word. The spear jabbed down.
Tarrion repeated the phrase but with more venom in his voice. Fett choked
back his reply, but eventually spat it out. “Yes.” Tarrion removed the spear, taking several steps
backwards. He switched off the Holo-cam and threw it to the ground. Dropping
the spear he spoke again. “I have
transmitted the recording to a secure location. Should you ever cross my path
again, I will release it.” He removed his helmet, revealing the stranger from
the cantina. “I have transferred the full fifteen thousand credits to your
account. We shall not meet
again. Farewell.” Boba Fett retrieved his weapon and returned to his
ship. Once on-board he confirmed the transfer of his cash and sat down in the
pilot’s chair. He hated being manipulated, but despite the deck being stacked
against him from the start it had almost been worthwhile. He understood the various laws and cultures
that had arisen around the Mandalorian armour, the myths and legends, which
surrounded it – he was part of many of them.
And he knew that what Randelle was doing was proving his worthiness to
wear the armour. Fett had respect for
that, and as he powered Slave I back to the skies he spared a thought
for his conqueror. Should we
ever meet again, releasing that Holo-vid will be the last thing on my mind. Lord Tarr Ranth of Mandalore watched his son as he
entered the house. He had fought well today, earning the right to wear his
father’s armour. He stepped away from the windows and met his son in the
lobby. His son went down on one knee and bowed. “Father.
I have done as you asked. Was it enough?” The old man smiled down to his son and protégé.
The pain lanced through his chest again, but it didn't show on his features.
Soon he would be dead and his son would carry on his name, his title and his
honour. That was their way.
"Yes my son. Tomorrow we
will contact an old friend of mine within CorSec. He will provide you with
the relevant completion to your training. I fear however that I will not be
around to see it. Fear not my son, Hal Horn will guide you." The Black Armour 1999 short story by Louis
Turfrey Eight years before Episode IV – A New Hope Histories – This short tale by Louis
Turfrey shows the beginnings of the career
of the man known as Tarrion Randelle, a man who is soon to become the feared bounty
hunter Tarr Ranth. Pitting
his wits against the legendary Boba
Fett, and coming to somewhat of a
stalemate, Ranth begins to show the talents that take him through the next
few decades and other Ranth stories such as Twin Souls, Nine Men Down and Sanction: Off.
Cast of Characters Tarrion Randelle Boba Fett Lord
Tarr Ranth
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