The invaders continued their advance across the galaxy, albeit more slowly than he expected. If-when-they turned on the Mandalore sector, he’d be ready for them.
Until the next call, or the next opportunity to gather information, he opted to remain the Boba Fett that everyone expected him to be, more bounty hunter than Mandalore, because life still went on where the Yuuzhan Vong hadn’t yet reached.
Fools. Life won’t be going on much longer.
Some of the Mandalorian clans told him they planned to dig in and resist the Yuuzhan Vong, and some planned to do something called ba’slan sbev’la, which Beviin translated as “strategic disappearance.” It was hard to wipe out a people who could vanish for years and then show up again as an avenging army, all without the guiding hand of a conventional government.
Yes, they’ll show up again. Don’t doubt it.
Fett respected their ability to sort out their own affairs. He was contemplating the nature of identity, with one eye on the movement of share prices displayed on the console, when Slave I picked up a vessel on an intercept course.
It was a New Republic X-wing, just like old times. For once, this one wasn’t in his database, like every other individual ship catalogued by thermal
signature,
electromagnetic
profile,
and
other
telltale characteristics that helped him identify it. It was genuinely unknown. He didn’t have its pilot on his list.
And it meant business, judging by the speed it was approaching. He monitored Slave 1’s automatic defense system and decelerated to watch its reaction on the scan. When it came within a thousand kilometers, it slowed and Slave 1’s comm beeped for attention, displaying the source and router.
Ah. The message was coming via one of the nodes he’d listed on the intelligence datachip. Fett opened the link.
“Target practice, or do you want to talk?” he asked.
The voice didn’t surprise him. He’d never admit that it relieved him, though.
“It’s Kubariet,” said the pilot. “I’d never fire on an
“Think of yourself as my enemy’s enemy.”
“Close enough for me. Rendezvous point?”
“Go about and follow me into Vorpa’ya.”
“Concord Dawn’s closer.”
“I can’t return there. And you don’t need to know why.”
“That’s okay, Fett, because I already do. I work with New Republic Intelligence.”
“And you still found your way here. Impressive.” The Jedi didn’t laugh; they never did. But he followed Fett.
Vorpa’ya was a dump. There was no other accurate description. Nerf farming and had land management had left it as a Tatooine waiting to happen. The two vessels landed at a careful distance on an overgrazed plain that threw up clouds of gritty dust, and Fett waited for Kubariet to open his canopy and jump out. When he did, he wasn’t in Jedi robes but a regular pilot’s flight suit.
“It’s a deal,” said Kubariet.
Fett couldn’t recall any Jedi who talked like that. “About time.”
“It was useful information. I’m sorry we didn’t crack on to that right away.”
“Fine.”
“So, what’s your fee?”
“I don’t want your credits. Just kill more Vong.”
Kubariet looked studiously blank. “My apologies. But now we can at least keep the fleet off your back and pur them in the picture.”
“No.”
“But-“
“Every time we meet the New Republic, we’ll remind them we fight for the Vong. It has to be that way for this game to work.”
“But you’re fighting two wars at once. Fighting for the New Republic and defending yourself against us, too.”
“We’ll manage okay.”
“Too proud to admit you’re our ally?”
“No, wary of leaks in your organization that might blow our cover. Nom Anor’s been right here for eighteen years and we never spotted him.” Fett decided he could do business with this Jedi at least. “And we’re not on your side. We’re on our side. The longer the Vong think I’m their pal, the more time I buy for Mandalore.”
“They’ll come for you in the end.”
“I know that.”
“Then you’ll have to show your hand.”
“I know that, too, and if and when that happens, we’ll show them what Mandos can really do. It’ll be a nice surprise for them. They’ll hardly recognize us.”
The we slipped out. For a moment Fett wondered about all the times he used I and the very few occasions when he said we, and accepted that he now felt a communal sense of responsibility for Mandalore and whoever passed for Mandalorian.