Han and Luke crash land on a hostile, barren planet. Both injured,
they are stalked by a mysterious bounty hunter....

It had been a long, arduous trek across the limitless reaches of the
galaxy in an almost impossible quest for one man, one ship, among the
multitudes of life which abounded in a teeming universe. To most, it
would have seemed an impossible chore, one which could require the labors
of a lifetime and still lead to no assurance of success. To the armored
being it was only one of many hunts he had taken in an already long,
successful career. This one had proven to be a little longer, a little
more difficult, and, ultimately, a little more dangerous, but that would
only make the taste of attainment sweeter at the end.

And the end was in sight. Today, he would collect that which he hunted.
He had never failed. This one had merely proven a little more difficult
than he had originally bargained for; he made a mental note to increase
the bounty when he made delivery.

The winds picked up, and the plains below him seemed alive, the sands
forever moving as if seeking their rest on a world already dead.

The being stiffened as a flash of light flared from a sector of space he
had been watching intently. The rasp of his life support increased as his
breathing quickened in expectation. He subconsciously adjusted his oxygen
intake valve, resetting it to compensate for the thinness of the world's
atmosphere: another advantage, he reminded himself, that he would hold
over the prey he would soon stalk. His helmeted visage settled on the dot
of light that continued to move toward him. He nodded in satisfaction as
the light fell into his anticipated descent pattern. It entered the
moon's atmosphere and the being mentally counted off segmented timeparts.
He paused at a remembered figure, studying the growing light carefully.
There was another flash from the now-recognizable shape. All was going as
planned.

The small, long-range shuttle listed badly to port. Its stabilizers
sporadic from the explosions which had rendered it virtually powerless.
It was coming down - fast.

Boba Fett, intergalactic bounty hunter, swore as he watched the vessel
shudder under yet another concussion. The small ship was fighting
desperately to control its descent as it fell under the gravitational
influence of the small, dead world.

The damage to the ship was major, as he had intended it to be, but it was
imperative that the vessel land safely: the bounty would be worthless to
him dead. He clinched his hands into tight fists as he watched the ship
drop. The pilot was good - very good. Under less efficient hands the
small craft would have fallen from the skies like a mortally wounded
F'Lanta soarer....