“Hey, kid!”
It was a Geonosian guard.
“It’s okay,” Boba said. “It’s my dad’s ship.”
He got out of Slave 1 and closed the ramp.
The Geonosian had a stupid but amiable expression.
“How come there’s nothing to do around here?” Boba asked, just to be friendly.
The Geonosian guard smiled and twirled his blaster. “Oh, plenty to do! ” he said. “There’s arena! Really cool!”
“What happens in the arena?”
“Kill things!” said the Geonosian.
Interesting, thought Boba. It was something to do. “Every day?” he asked eagerly.
“Oh, no,” said the Geonosian. “Only special occasions.”
Rules.
Rules are made to be broken.
That was not part of Jango Fett’s code. But it is part of the Kids’ Code, thought Boba. Anyway, it oughta be.
Boba was making excuses. He was getting ready to break his father’s Off-Limits Rule.
He was preparing to slip out of the stalagmite city, to the red mesa.
He was trying to pretend it was all right, that it was something he had to do.
He was looking for adventure.
And he was about to find it.
The first part was easy.
The main door to the stalagmite city was on ground level, down below the landing pad. It was guarded by a drowsy Geonosian sentry, whose job was to watch for intruders, not escapees.
It was easy to slip past him.
As soon as he breathed the outside air, Boba realized how much he hated the musty smell of the stalagmite city. It was great to be outside!
He wanted to explore the glittering trails he had seen from above. He followed the first one he saw. It led down the side of the red rock mesa. The glitter was chips of mica - rock as smooth and shiny as glass that marked the trail and made it easy to follow.
Boba was just rounding a corner on a steep cliff when he heard a scream.
Then a growling noise.
He stopped - then proceeded more cautiously, step by step.
On the narrow trail ahead, two spike-backed beasts were fighting. They were growling, each pulling at one end of what looked like a furry rope.
The rope was hissing in a high-pitched tone.
The rope was a ten-foot snake, covered with fur. Its mouth and eyes were in the center of its long, furry body.
The lizards, which Boba assumed were the dreaded massiffs, were about to tear it in half with their long, razor-sharp teeth.
Then they saw Boba - and dropped the snake. Boba backed up one step.
The massiffs both moved forward one step. Growling.
Boba backed up another step. The cliff was to his right. To his left, and behind him - nothing but air.
The massiffs moved forward again. Two steps this time.
Snarling.
Boba kept his stare locked on the massiffs’ red eyes. He felt that if he looked away for even an instant, they would charge.
They moved forward again, side by side.
Boba knelt down and, feeling with one hand, picked up a slice of mica. Without looking, he tested it with his fingers. It was as sharp as a knife.
Suddenly he jumped up and threw it, spinning, toward the massiff on the right.
YELP!
A hit! But the other massiff was in the air, leaping toward Boba. He heard a snarl, and felt hot breath on his face, and ducked his head, and…
00W0000!
The massiff missed him and flew off the cliff, howling as it fell toward the jagged rocks below. Boba straightened up.
The other massiff was bleeding over one red eye. It was backing up, slinking away…. Then it turned and ran.
The snake lay on the trail, nursing its wounds.
Boba’s heart was pounding.
Maybe breaking the rules is not such a good idea, he thought. He was lucky to be alive.
He considered turning back - but decided that would be pointless. He was already halfway around the mesa. So he stepped over the dazed snake and continued on the path.
He had seen the path from above. He knew it would lead back to the entrance. He would sneak back in, and his father would never know he had been outside.
Then he heard something behind him. Something on the path.
The wounded massiff?
Boba felt a sudden chill. He looked back over his shoulder. It was the snake.
It was slithering along after him.
Boba stopped.
The snake stopped.
Its mouth in the middle of its body was smiling - at least it seemed to be smiling. And it was singing, a sort of rushing sound, like water falling. It sounded strange out here in the desert. It reminded Boba of the rain on Kamino, or the waves.
“Go away,” said Boba.
The snake kept singing. It slithered a little closer.
Boba backed up. “Go away!”
The snake slithered still closer. Boba picked up a rock - a sharp piece of mica.
“Go away.”
The snake looked sad. It stopped singing. It slithered away into the rocks.
Boba was making his way up the path, toward the top of the mesa, when he saw something strange.