Boba ignored him. Only as he approached the cantina’s doors did he slow down.
From inside came the sounds of drunken singing, muffled shouts, the clack of mung-tee balls. And, best of all, the smell of food.
Boba paused. His mouth was watering. He knew he had no credits left, but maybe he might be able to swipe an unfinished platter of food. Grownups were notorious for not cleaning their plates. He looked around, made sure his helmet was on securely, and pushed the door open.
Inside the noise was deafening. So was the hulking Noghri security guard who glared down at Boba.
“Display all your weapons!” he shouted. “This isn’t like those cantinas in Mos Eisley - we’ll have no firefights here.”
Boba raised his empty hands. The Noghri roughly patted him down. Boba held his breath. He was worried that the guard might raise his helmet and see that he was not a warrior of small stature, but a kid.
Luckily, the Noghri had no time for that. Behind Boba a group of rowdy Wookiees appeared.
“Go on, then!” the guard yelled at Boba, gesturing inside. “Next!”
Boba strode through a passage and into the main room. A long, neon purple bar occupied its center, with tables scattered elsewhere. Piped-in music played, adding to the tumult. There were aliens and
humans everywhere, heads bent close together as they plotted and planned, or simply ate and drank. Service droids bustled back and forth, clearing dishes and refilling drinks.
Boba looked around.
“There!” he murmured. Near the back of the room he spied an abandoned table. It still had plates on it. Boba glanced around to make sure no one took note of him. He casually sauntered over to the table.
“Yes!” he whispered to himself. “Jackpot!”
Someone had left an entire roba plate untouched. Beside it steamed a heaping mound of yan legumes. Boba reached out, grabbed the roba and drew it to his mouth.
Still warm! He took a bite, chewed, and swallowed; then reached for the yan.
“Hey!”
Boba gulped. He turned to see a tall woman in a Myrkr pilot’s uniform. She scowled at him, her hand resting lightly on the blaster at her hip.
“Uh, sorry,” stammered Boba. “I thought this was my table.”
Another pilot appeared behind the first. Boba started to back away, when a crushingly huge hand descended onto his shoulder.
“Mandalorian scum!” said a deep voice. “You dare to breathe the same air as I do?”
Boba twisted. He looked up to see a figure easily three meters tall. From helmeted head to booted feet, he was clad in a shining carapace of armor. He carried a blaster as long as his arm; knives and more blasters hung around his waist.
But worst of all was what he bore on his chest: the livid image of a Mandalorian skull.
“Is there a problem, Durge?” one of the pilots said.
Durge.
Boba stared at him. His hands and neck suddenly went cold. In front of him stood an imposing figure. Inside his helmet, his eyes glowed a malevolent red.
“When I see a Mandalorian,” Durge said, raising his arm, “there is always a problem. Especially one that Count Dooku has asked me to hunt down.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Boba’s heart hammered his chest. But he stood his ground and stared at the figure before him.
Durge! His father had warned Boba about him. A two-thousand-year-old bounty hunter, Durge hated the Mandalorians more than anything else in the galaxy. A hundred years before Boba was born, Durge had attempted to capture the Mandalorians’ leader. Instead, he himself was captured and tortured.
But Durge escaped. He went into hibernation to recover from his wounds. When he emerged fully healed, he vowed revenge
upon
all Mandalorians.
Yet it was too late for revenge. By then, there were few Mandalorians left in the galaxy. They had been exterminated in the course of countless battles, some with the Jedi.
Still, part of Jango Fett remained alive in the clone army generated from his DNA. Durge had vowed to eliminate all of Jango’s clones… and do Count Dooku’s bidding.
What would he do if he knew that Jango’s true son stood before him?
I’m not gonna wait to find out, thought Boba grimly.
He took a deep breath. Just as Durge’s fist came smashing down toward him, Boba dove between the bounty hunter’s legs.
Good thing he’s so tall! Boba hit the floor running.
“Get him!”
Boba raced for the door. Service droids bleeped and scurried away. Near the door, three Wookiees backed against the wall, giving deep bellows of excitement.
BLAAAAAMM!
A burst of blaster fire ricocheted overhead. Boba could hear shouts and a blast of answering fire.
“Hey, you!” shouted the Noghri guard as the young bounty hunter whizzed by. The guard snatched at him, but Boba was too fast. In seconds he was outside again.