[Bounty Hunter Wars] - 03(21)

“That’s why the others lost, I suppose.” As Boba Fett had drawn his hand away, Neelah gave a slow nod of her head. “Like Bossk. You were able to take his ship away from him, just because of what you were able to do inside his head.”

“Exactly,” said Fett. He reached out again, taking the blaster pistol from Neelah’s hand. It rested on his palm, an inert object. “Something like this …” The shoulders of his Mandalorian battle armor lifted in a shrug. “It just makes things final. Sometimes. But by then, the battle is already over.”

There was a certain wisdom in Boba Fett’s words; Neelah knew that these were true as well, like the other things he had told her. “Why do you bother?” She peered toward the gaze hidden behind the dark visor. “Nobody ever said you were a creature of words; someone who would explain the reasons why he would do anything.” Back in Jabba’s palace, there had been henchmen of the Hutt who had claimed that Boba Fett was a creature of silence; they had never heard him speak even a single word. She didn’t know if those thugs had been stupid or lucky. When somebody finally did hear Boba Fett speak, there was usually a reason for it, and one that was rarely to the listener’s advantage. “So why are you telling me all this?”

“You’re a reasonable creature,” said Fett. “There are few such in the galaxy. In this, you and I are more similar than different in nature. Most sentient creatures are only partly so; they think a little, but then are governed by their emotions. The emotions I seek to produce in them are fear and helplessness. Then they’re easier to deal with. But you, on the other hand …” He gave a slow nod, as though carefully weighing his words. “It’s different with one of your kind. First there is emotion-anger, frustration, the desire for revenge-all those things that you have yet to learn to control. But then your reasoning ability, your capacity for logic kicks in. Cold and analytical, even about the things that matter the most to you. Even about your own lost identity. To be cold about other creatures’ fates-that comes easily to most worlds’ denizens. But to be cold about one’s own self …” His nod this time was more approving. “That’s something I recognize. And that I have to treat differently from the other creatures I encounter.”

Neelah wondered if this was more of his mind-gaming, another attempt to control her from within. “What happens if you don’t? Treat it differently, I mean.”

“Then the possibility is raised of my losing the battle.” Boba Fett’s hidden gaze stayed locked upon her face. “Though not the war, of course.”

“What do you mean?”

“Simple,” replied Fett. “You’re valuable enough to me that I prefer to keep you alive. And … cooperative. It’s easier to get that from you outside of a cage. But at the same time, I know the dangers of letting you keep a measure of freedom.” He handed the blaster pistol back to her. “If those dangers were to become too great-then I’d have to eliminate you. As quickly, and as definitely, as possible.”

Neelah regarded the blaster pistol in her hand for a moment, then finally tucked it back in her belt. When she raised her eyes, she looked past Boba Fett, to the star-filled viewport of the cockpit. Somewhere out there was the world from which she had come, that was now lost to her along with so much else. Perhaps, she mused, perhaps they’ve forgotten my name was well…

And if that was true… then she had nowhere else to go. The ship that surrounded her might be the only world she had left.

She brought her gaze around again to Boba Fett. “You’ll have to forgive me,” said Neelah. She managed a thin smile. “For being a little concerned about this mysterious destination of ours. But you were the one who told me about all the big events shaping up-out there.” One hand pointed toward the viewport. “About the Imperial forces gathering … some place named Endor.” Even the name of the moon seemed fraught with dire portent. “You said it might be a decisive battle; maybe the one that ends the Rebel Alliance.” She shook her head. “I came close enough to that struggle between the Empire and the Rebels, back on Tatooine.” Bit by bit, Neelah had pieced out the significance of Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia Organa having been on that remote backwater world. She had seen them both in Jabba’s palace, along with their companion Han Solo-first frozen in a block of carbonite, then released and brought to life again. They had been responsible for the death of Jabba, she knew, which she also figured had been a stroke of good luck for herself; escaping from Jabba’s clutches and staying free were two different things, at least as long as the Hutt had still been alive. She might owe them, and all the rest of the Rebels, her survival-but that wasn’t enough to get her involved with any of them again. “I don’t,” said Neelah decisively, “want to get near them. They’ve got their war; I’ve got mine.”