[Boba Fett] - 4(26)

Boba had flown before, of course. He had flown in airspeeders and on swoop bikes. He had flown inside his hyperfast starship, Slave I.

But nothing was quite like this.

“Man, this is great!” he whooped as he somersaulted through the air. Jabba’s palace was so small now it looked like one of Gab’borah’s cakes. When Boba looked back, he could see Durge. The bounty hunter stood within the doorway leading into empty air. He was a shining speck no bigger than an insect. He was smaller than an insect.

Then he was gone!

Boba watched as the citadel disappeared into the landscape. Then he did a few more somersaults. He dove and swooped the way Slave I did through space, the way he had seen his own father swing through the air. He practiced steering the jet pack, remembering his father’s movements, his father’s way. He switched off the ignition and let his body go into freefall.

The ground raced to meet him, red and gold and black. At the last second, Boba switched the ignition back on. The fuel packs blazed and thundered. He pulled out of the dive. He soared back into the shimmering air. He spun a few more times, just for luck. Then he adjusted his helmet. He turned on its navigation program.

“Mos Espa,” he commanded. Inside the helmet, red lights flickered to green. A stream of directional codes flashed before Boba’s eyes. Then a virtual map shimmered across Boba’s field of vision. He blinked.

It’s too far away, he thought in dismay. A sailbarge might be able to get there in a day, but a jet pack? Never.

Now what?

Boba hovered, looking around. Far below and behind him he could just make out Jabba’s palace.

A steady stream of tiny bright objects flowed from it into the surrounding desert: speeders and sailbarges, doing Jabba’s bidding.

A speeder could get me there in no time, Boba thought grimly. No way I could steal one now, without getting caught.

But a sailbarge…

He thought of the sailbarge that had brought him here. It had been crowded and disorderly, even with Jabba aboard.

But Jabba was in the palace now, along with Bib Fortuna. No one would be checking the barges as carefully as they had before.

Quickly Boba swooped down. He adjusted the jet pack’s speed to save fuel. He’d need it later, when he got closer to Mos Espa. He flew as close to the gate as he could, squinting.

There!

A cargo skiff was angling its way out the gate. Its massive upper deck was covered with crates and empty cages. Boba could just make out a few droids on board, doing last minute checks of the vessel’s cargo. If he could just stay out of sight…

He brought himself down, silently, approaching the skiff from the side. Within the darkness of the open gate stood a few security guards. They were talking and laughing; they weren’t doing their job.

Good thing! thought Boba. He steered the jet pack until he hung in the air just a few meters from the deck. Huge stacks of crates were there, secured with netting. There was a gap between one stack and the next. Too small for a human or Gamorrean guard, but just big enough - barely - for Boba. He looked around, making sure the guards were still distracted.

They were. Boba took a deep breath. He powered down on the jet pack until he was directly above the deck. He switched the power off and touched down, then darted between the stacks, his heart pounding.

Safe!

For now.

The skiff traveled for hours. Boba could see little, crouched where he was, so he used the time to rest. After a while, the rocking of the skiff lulled him to sleep. When finally he woke, Tatooine’s two suns had traveled across the sky: It was late.

Wonder where we are? thought Boba. He peered out, but saw only endless dunes. Above him the sky shimmered with heat. He ducked back into his refuge, and once more tapped into his helmet’s nav program.

“I need the coordinates for Mos Espa,” he whispered. “Hope it’s not far….”

It wasn’t. He checked his fuel levels: just enough to get him there. He stuck his head out and looked around.

There was no sign of security droids, or anyone else.

Boba’s heart leaped with excitement. Now or never!

Then he leaped, too - up, up, up! The jet pack sent him arrowing into the sky. Below him the skiff shrank to almost nothing, a speck in an ocean of sand. Far, far behind him was Jabba’s palace. Somewhere in front of him Mos Espa - and Boba’s future - waited.

Boba soared on.

Below him the Dune Sea flashed past. He saw moisture farms, the metal carcass of an immense sand-wrecked freighter. He saw tiny outposts where the moisture farmers bought their supplies and traded water for food.

Once he saw the ground hundreds of meters below him shift and shudder like jelly. A Sarlaac was hunting beneath the sand.

He also saw a tiny black jot against the sky. It was many kilometers behind him.