This show dives into life of Boba Fett, a bounty hunter with a reputation. He teams up with other bounty hunters and friends. Together, they explore wild, lawless Outer Rim. Adventure awaits in every corner. Get ready for some serious action and maybe a few laughs too.

Meet the characters from The Book of Boba Fett

Boba Fett

Boba Fett is the quiet thunder of the show — deadly, steady, and weirdly domestic at times. He moves with that famous calm, a man of few words who lets his armor and actions do the talking. There’s honor and a stubborn personal code beneath all that helmet business, but also this weirdly sentimental streak about family and old debts. He can be brutal and kind in the same breath, which is part of why he’s endlessly watchable — plus his penchant for tinkering with tiny gadgets (yes, like someone who collects spoons or something) is oddly charming.

Fennec Shand

Fennec Shand is sleek, lethal, and absolutely stylish — like if a sniper also had a personal stylist. Precise, pragmatic, and fiercely loyal once she picks a side, she has that cool-as-ice exterior that hides tiny cracks of warmth. She’ll take a headshot and a compliment with equal grace, and honestly her little smirks are iconic (don’t make her smirk, she will not hesitate). She’s sharp, funny, and somehow both terrifying and kind, which makes her scenes pop.

Madam Garsa

Madam Garsa is velvet and knives — the kind of woman who runs a plush shop and sharpens secrets in the back room. She flutters between hostess and power-broker with this slightly theatrical charm, reading rooms like books and leaving bookmarks. Proper on the surface but obviously pulling strings underneath, and I swear she has an absurd collection of tiny fans and incense she waves like a conductor. Comforting one minute and quietly dangerous the next, she’s the kind of supporting player who knows everyone’s passwords and birthdays (probably).

Mayor’s Majordomo

The Mayor’s Majordomo is all prim posture and nervous smiles, the quintessential bureaucrat stuck in a very messy dynasty plot. Obsessed with protocol, clipboards, and little phrases like “as your mayor would like,” he is both infuriating and kind of lovable. Under the stiff collar there’s a scrappy survival instinct — he’ll gossip, negotiate, or serve tea to keep his head down — and maybe, maybe he’s secretly a pastry fiend (I could be wrong). He’s small-scale chaos but somehow makes the political stuff feel personal and oddly human.

Announcer Torture Droid

The Announcer Torture Droid is the best worst kind of menace: chirpy, mechanical, and eerily polite while narrating agony. It speaks like a deadpan game-show host and somehow that cheerful cadence makes everything worse, like a welcome mat for doom. There’s a dark comedy to its monotone delivery that flips scenes between terrifying and absurd (in a very specific, uncomfortable way). I kind of imagine it humming lullabies in broken circuits when it’s off duty — terrifying and oddly domestic.