[Boba Fett] - 2(3)

“Yes, sir,” said Boba. Training! Now they were getting somewhere. “Also, my father left a message about some credits that belonged to him. He said you would give them to me.”

“Ah, yes, Jango Fett’s savings. I suppose, if you prove worthy… but we will discuss all that later, this evening.”

“I will prove worthy!” said Boba eagerly. “I want to be a great bounty hunter like my dad.”

But the Count was no longer listening. He was studying some strange images on his holomap. He had turned all of his attention away from Boba, as if Boba had never been there.

Boba heard the door open and felt a grip on his shoulder. “Come with us,” said Cydon Prax. As he was being led out the door, Boba heard the Count behind him, talking on his comm device. “Keep digging,” he said in his icy voice. “Expand the search. Spare no expense. What we are looking for is more powerful than you can possibly imagine.”





CHAPTER THREE


As Boba followed Prax down the long halls, back to his lonely room, he thought of the Count’s cold dismissal. Can I trust him? Do I have a choice? Maybe the Count wasn’t going to turn out to be such a good friend after all Jango Fett had always said: that in a bounty hunter’s life, there was no such thing as a friend. Boba knew this was probably true. But still he hoped…

“Stay, here,” said Prax, when they arrived at the room. “No wandering. Unpermitted.”

Boba nodded his agreement and closed the door. His original clothes were back, clean, folded. at the foot of the bed. He changed into them, glad to shed the rough tunic.

His flight bag sat on the floor beside the bed. It contained everything Boba owned except his father’s ship, Slave I. Boba fully intended to get it back. Meanwhile, the bag contained all his worldly possessions:

A helmet and a book.

When Boba had buried his father with his armor on Geonosis, he had kept his scarred and pitted battle helmet. It was Mandalorian. Boba took it out of the flight bag and looked at it longingly. The faceplate of the helmet was as familiar, as stern, and, in its own strange way, as loving as his father’s actual features.

In fact, Boba was beginning to fear he would forget his father’s face. This would become more familiar - this harsh visage, like a T, with an eye slit at the top.

Boba put the helmet beside him and took out the book.

The black book contained Jango Fett’s final messages to his son. Sometimes they were the same, from day to day. Sometimes they changed.

The most recent message had been about the Count, credits, and self-sufficiency. Boba opened the book to see if it had changed. It had, but only a little. Today it read:

Self-sufficiency you will learn from the Count.

Sometimes the book wasn’t much help. How was he going to learn self-sufficiency from the Count, who wasn’t even interested in talking to him?

Boba had lots of questions. Why was the Count so cold and mistrustful? What was he digging for? But it was clear that if he wanted answers, he was going to have to find them himself - even though wandering was unpermitted, according to Prax.

He closed the book and put it back into the flight bag. It was time to explore.

Boba clenched his fist and held it in front of his face, making a vow. “Self-sufficiency means do it yourself!” he muttered. He picked up his father’s helmet - it was his only possible disguise, just in case he needed one. Carefully, as quietly as possible, he opened the door….





CHAPTER FOUR


Boba looked right.

Boba looked left.

No Cydon Prax

Good - - all clear!

He started his exploration, staying close, to the wall, so he could duck out of sight if necessary. He followed the hallway to the end, then rounded a corner; then. another corner - always heading ‘toward’ the noises and commotion he could hear in the distance.

The halls around his room were empty, but those farther away were filled with noise and activity. Soon Boba found himself sharing the corridors. Droids of all shapes and sizes bustled about, carrying equipment in and out of the small storage rooms. Their whirrs and clicks sounded almost like speech.

There were other creatures, too. Boba saw a Geonosian warrior armed with a sonic blaster at a distance and a Nemoidian in colorful robes, looking angry and harassed.

The whole place had a temporary, provisional air, like a construction site. There was dirt on the floor and scars on the walls, where they had been bumped and scraped. There was a sharp smell, either of the outside air or of the oil-like sweat glistening on the limbs of the busy droids.

The equipment in some of the rooms looked like it was for digging or drilling. Most of it was covered with muck, but some was bright and gleaming, as though it hadn’t yet been used.