I hope I don’t look that blank when I’m twenty, Boba thought with a shudder.
Ulu Ulix was very friendly, for a Jedi. He seemed to lack that aggressive arrogance that Boba associated with the order.
He’ll probably flunk out, Boba thought.
They went into what must have been one of many small kitchens set up to feed the around-the-clock patrols. “The other kids will be at dinner,” said Ulu Ulix. “You must be starving. What would you like?”
All the food was unfamiliar. Boba pointed to what looked like a meat pie that was sitting behind a pane of glass.
Ulu pressed his palm against the glass, and the meat pie made itself in a swirl of laser light, then floated out, released temporarily from the ship’s artificial gravity.
“Thanks!” Boba said, catching it. It tasted better than good - it had been a long time since he’d had a full meal.
Boba didn’t like Jedi - at all! - but it was hard to hate Ulu. He was different. Almost cordial. “Aren’t you going to eat some?” Boba asked. “You can have a bite of mine.”
“Not hungry. I just ate the day before yesterday.”
At the end of a long hallway in the depths of the ship, they found a dormitory. It was empty of people, but filled with beds, all of them short.
“Grab an empty bed, Teff,” said Ulu. “The other kids will be back from dinner soon. They’ll tell you the drill. It mainly involves staying out of the way.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s it,” said Ulu. “I’m in charge of the Orphan Hall. It’s part of my training. I try to make things as easy for you kids as possible. If there’s anything you need, just let me know.”
Ulu smiled and left, and Boba lay down on a bunk by the wall. This was going to be something new: a roomful of kids. Was he finally going to have a chance to make some friends? That would be something new for sure! His father had warned him about friendships and making himself weak to so-called friends. But Boba was still curious.
For now, Boba was too tired to think about it. He lay down and closed his eyes. It seemed that his head had barely hit the pillow when he was awakened by a hideous cackling noise, as if he were being attacked by a flock of birds.
He sat up, terrified. A nightmare?
He opened his eyes. No nightmare. It was kids - shouting, screaming, laughing, jumping on and off the beds. Boba looked at them and groaned. They were incredibly loud, and diverse. The only older kids (his age) he saw were separated into two groups, a small group of girls, looking suspiciously at a small group of boys.
The rest of the kids were squalling, laughing, and crying. The chaos was unbelievable. Boba groaned again. This was far worse than he had imagined. Boba Fett, the bounty hunter’s son, who could fly a starship and survive a Count’s attack… stuck with a bunch of underage brats!
I don’t belong here! Boba put his pillow over his head, hoping he would go to sleep before he went crazy.
And he got lucky.
He did.
In dreams there is no past and future, only a shining endless now. In dreams there is no gravity, no hunger, no cold…
“Hey.”
Boba groaned. In his dream he was riding a great beast around and around in an arena, trying to catch up with his father, but he kept slipping off…
“Hey!”
“I am,” said Boba.
“You am what?” a voice said with a laugh. “Holding on,” said Boba. But there was nothing to hold on to. The beast was gone.
Boba sat up and opened his eyes.
He was in the dorm, the Orphan Hall. The noise was now a low hum, still obnoxious but bearable.
Most of the kids were playing games or sitting and rocking their toys or dolls. All but one, who was sitting at the foot of his bed.
“Wake up,” he said - or was he a she? It was hard to tell. The kid at the end of the bed was a humanoid, like Boba, but with darker skin and shorter hair - and very merry eyes.
Boba smiled. He couldn’t help it. “Who are you?”
“The only reasonably mature kid in this zoo. And I’m exactly what you need.”
“Which is what?”
“A friend.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
“I’m Garr,” said the visitor sitting at the foot of the bed, extending a hand.
Boba took it cautiously. “‘Teff” he said, remembering the name he had conjured up for the Jedi. (He wished he had been more creative.) He sat up and rubbed his head. “I must have fallen asleep. How long was I sleeping?”
“Days,” said Garr. “A standard day, anyway, according to the ship’s chronos. We all notice when there’s someone new: You had been in the bacta bath, but you still smelled a little ripe. Where did they pick you up, anyway?”