Boba spends a few moments letting Vader study the movement in the water below them. So far, the man seems quite easy to work with—a far cry from the fearsome stories Boba has heard of him even in his own time. Were the stories exaggerated, he wonders? Or is Vader simply more respectful towards Boba for the service he will render to him in the future?
Either way, Boba isn't complaining. A few seconds more and he takes up his atlatl and approaches the edge of the boat, staying a healthy distance from Vader to avoid either of them interfering with one another's shots.
"We don't want to wait too long after baiting the water to strike," he says, eyes following the flicker of fins and tails in the murk. "Or the bait will sink too low to be useful to us."
His eyes zero in on a particularly bold fish, its teeth flashing in the dark waters as it snaps up chunks of bait. Boba takes aim with his spear-thrower, lifting it to his shoulder. There's a brief pause as he exhales—and then his arm snaps forward, launching the spear into the water. The projectile buries itself in the fishes side to a fury of thrashing and Boba immediately twists the atlatl to begin reeling the creature in. It struggles all the way onto the deck of the boat, the spear lodged solidly in its side doing little to abate its furor.
In an instant, Boba summons his armor, deploys the retractable vibroblade from his wrist, and drives the tip through the creature's spine. It takes more force than he expected, but finally, the fish lies still.
"They're tough," he mutters, still crouching over the carcass and using the blade to probe for any weak spots. He finds one just behind the eye and steps aside so Vader can see. "Here," he says, pointing with the blade. "Might be a good spot to aim for."
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Either way, Boba isn't complaining. A few seconds more and he takes up his atlatl and approaches the edge of the boat, staying a healthy distance from Vader to avoid either of them interfering with one another's shots.
"We don't want to wait too long after baiting the water to strike," he says, eyes following the flicker of fins and tails in the murk. "Or the bait will sink too low to be useful to us."
His eyes zero in on a particularly bold fish, its teeth flashing in the dark waters as it snaps up chunks of bait. Boba takes aim with his spear-thrower, lifting it to his shoulder. There's a brief pause as he exhales—and then his arm snaps forward, launching the spear into the water. The projectile buries itself in the fishes side to a fury of thrashing and Boba immediately twists the atlatl to begin reeling the creature in. It struggles all the way onto the deck of the boat, the spear lodged solidly in its side doing little to abate its furor.
In an instant, Boba summons his armor, deploys the retractable vibroblade from his wrist, and drives the tip through the creature's spine. It takes more force than he expected, but finally, the fish lies still.
"They're tough," he mutters, still crouching over the carcass and using the blade to probe for any weak spots. He finds one just behind the eye and steps aside so Vader can see. "Here," he says, pointing with the blade. "Might be a good spot to aim for."