[Boba Fett] - 2(8)

Battle droids followed what Boba instantly recognized as GAT tanks, closing in on the clone troopers from behind - until a Jedi on a speeder-bike streaked over the horizon, mowing them down with deadly laser fire. And here came what looked like a new kind of tank, its telltale red markings signifying it belonged to the Jedi, lurching through the same slimy ponds that Boba had survived.

Jedi gunships were closing in on the ruins that surrounded the crane tower and the pit. One gunship dodged a missile’s streak; another was hit and spiraled down to crash unseen over the horizon.

Yes! Boba watched, fascinated. He hated both sides - the Jedi and the Count. But he loved the action.

It was chaos, and it was just the diversion he needed to help him escape. He looked down and saw his reflection in a puddle. His face was streaked with dirt again, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

Anything was better than being the Count’s prisoner. He was free!

Boba heard a noise behind him and turned just in time to see a huge starship rise from the other end of the Count’s hideout.

It was the Count, making his escape. Boba wondered if he had managed to rescue the dark treasure that he had come to Raxus Prime to find.

Two Jedi starfighters raced over the horizon, zeroing in on the Count’s starship. The pursued and pursuers both vanished into the thick clouds.

KABOOM!

KABOOM!

Even though the Count had fled, his defense system was still working. It would keep firing until his slave droids were dead and the lasers ran out of energy. Boba kept his head down as he crawled through the rubble, looking for an opening that would lead back down into the hallways of the abandoned hideout where he had to go to get his father’s book.

Wearing his helmet for protection, Boba crawled through a smashed opening in a wall. The hallways were choked with smoke and rubble. The dust, the explosions, the noise, made everything difficult to see.

As he grasped his way through the abandoned corridor, Boba found that he felt very little fear. He had escaped the worst fate imaginable, and now he felt like a new man, or at least a new boy. What could happen to him worse than what he had escaped?

He saw a familiar-looking door. His room!

There was his bed, turned on its side by an explosion. But where was the flight bag that had been under it?

Frantically, Boba dug in the rubble with his hands until he felt the familiar curve of a handle. He pulled, harder and harder, until it came free.

Safe! He threw the helmet into the bag and sealed it. With the troopers around, it was best to keep Jango Fett’s mask out of sight.





CHAPTER NINE


Boba crawled toward the Open air - and found himself face-to-face with a squadron of clone troopers bursting through the wreckage. As soon as they saw Boba, they leveled their blasters at him.

“Come with us,” the trooper said, extending a white-gloved hand.

Boba wondered if the trooper knew who he was. The trooper soon answered that question with his next words:

“Are you one of the orphans?”

“Uh, sure,” Boba replied. He was an orphan, after all.

“Name of missing or deceased parents.” “Oh, uh - Teff,” said Boba

“Orphan Teff, age, please?”

“Ten.”

“Under guidelines,” said the clone trooper. “Follow me for food and shelter.”

Food and shelter? That didn’t sound so bad. Boba didn’t trust the Jedi, but this clone trooper was not a Jedi, even though he was probably working for them.

“Sure thing,” said Boba, picking up his flight bag and noticing the trooper’s number - CT-4/ 619.

Explosions still rocked the building. Even though the Count had escaped, the battle raged on. The Count’s slave droids were continuing the fight - and Boba was now caught in the crossfire.

The clone troopers paid little attention to the explosions as they lifted their blasters to repel the super battle droids. For a split second, Boba felt an echo of the past - the clone troopers’ movements were almost exactly the same as Jango Fett’s. The way they held their blaster rifles. The way their heads turned to take in the full scope of the battle. The fierce stealth of their steps. He trained them as well as he trained me.

No, better.

Boba knew he had to snap out of these thoughts. The battle droids were pushing forward against the troopers’ ranks, relentlessly firing their blasters. They had been programmed to kill or be destroyed. There would be no surrender, no retreat.

They aimed their fire at the troopers and at the top of the rubble’s entrance. Boba dashed out into the open just as the doorway began to cave in. The troopers inside died without a sound. The air was suddenly choked with dust. The other troopers did not look back.

An eruption of blaster fire landed at Boba’s feet. A close call. A trooper at his side was knocked off his feet, crashing into the rubble. The droids, too, were being torn apart by the shooting. A bloodbath - without the blood.