Zam was a changeling, a Clawdite. She changed the form of her body back and forth, depending on the situation.
Mothers didn’t do that, Boba was pretty sure. He had read about mothers in books, even though he had never met one.
A mother seemed like a nice thing to have.
Once, when he was little, Boba asked his father who his mother was.
“You never had one,” said his father. “You are a clone. That means you are my son. Period. No one else, no woman was involved.”
Boba nodded. That meant he was exactly like his father, Jango Fett. That meant he was special.
Still, sometimes, in secret, he wished he had a mother.
Boba and his father lived on Kamino because Jango Fett had a job to do there. He was training a special army of super-soldiers for a man named Count Tyranus.
Boba liked to watch the soldiers, lined up in long ranks, marching in the rain. They never got tired and they never complained and they all looked exactly alike - - - exactly like his father, only younger. Exactly like Boba himself, only older.
“They are also my clones,” Jango Fett told him once when he was little.
It was what Boba had expected to hear. But it still hurt. “Just like me?”
“Not like you,” said Jango Fett. “They are just soldiers. They grow up twice as fast and only live half as long. You are the only true clone. You are my real son.”
“I see,” said Boba. He felt better. Still, he didn’t go watch the clones march anymore. And he didn’t feel quite as special as before.
Tyranus was an old man with a long, lean face and eyes like a hawk.
Boba had never seen him in person - only on holograms when he gave instructions to Jango Fett, or asked about the progress of the clone army.
Jango called him “Count” and was always polite. But that didn’t mean he liked him, Boba knew.
Always be polite to a client. That was part of Jango’s code.
One night Boba heard his father and the Count talking about a new job on a faraway planet.
The Count told Jango Fett that the job would be very dangerous.
That didn’t stop Boba’s father, of course. Later on, Boba wondered if maybe the Count had played up the danger to make sure Jango took the job.
You never knew, with grown-ups.
Jango agreed to do the job. He told the Count he would have to meet up with Zam Wesell and take her along with him.
Boba grinned when he heard that. If they were both going, that meant he might get to go, too. No such luck.
The next morning, Jango Fett strapped on his battle armor and told Boba that he and Zam were going on a trip.
“Me too?” Boba asked hopefully.
Jango shook his head. “Sorry, son. You’re going to have to stay home alone.”
Boba groaned.
“A bounty hunter never complains,” said Jango, in that special voice he reserved for his code. “And neither does his son.”
“But…”
“No buts, son. This is a special job for the Count. Zam and I have to travel fast and light.” “I’m fast,” Boba said. “And I’m light!”
Jango Fett laughed. “A little too light,” he said, patting Boba on the head. “But big enough to stay here on your own. It will only be a few days. “
The next morning Boba woke up alone in the apartment. Home alone - but not entirely alone.
His father had left him a bowl with five sea
mice in it. And a note: We’ll be back when these are gone.
Sea-mice can live in either air or water. They are incredibly cute, with big brown eyes and little paws that turn to flippers when you put them into the water.
They are also incredibly good to eat… if you are a sea eel.
Jango’s pet sea eel lived in a tank in the bedroom.
CHAPTER TWO
Boba was surprised to find that he liked being home alone.
The apartment was all his. Three squares came out of the cookslot every day, heated to perfection.
Boba could come and go as he liked. He could hang around the spaceport, admiring the sleek fighters and imagining himself at the controls. He could pretend he was a bounty hunter and “track” unsuspecting people on the street. Or, when he grew tired of the endless rain, he could curl up and read on the couch.
It wasn’t even lonely. When Boba was with his father, Jango Fett hardly ever talked. But when Boba was alone he could hear his father’s voice in his head all the time. “Boba do this. Boba do, that.”
It was as good as having him actually around. Better, in fact.
The first two days were easy. And in three more days, Jango and Zam Wesell would be back. How did Boba know?
There were only three sea-mice left. The eel ate one a day. Every morning Boba took a sea-mouse out of the bowl and dropped it into the eel’s tank.
The eel had no name. Just “eel.”