Han would remember this for years to come and still not believe it. Fett’s shoulders heaved visibly as if he was taking a deep breath. He still said nothing. It was a lousy way to be reunited with family; Han almost felt sorry for him.
Mirta stood staring into the mask of his helmet as if she could see the man behind it. Then she punched both fists into his chest plate as hard as she could, face contorted with grief and rage, and knocked him back a couple of paces. He just took it. She punched as hard as she could, and Fett let her until Han saw that her knuckles were bleeding and he decided she’d had enough. He grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back.
Fett still hadn’t said a word.
“Hey, c’mon … c’mon …” Han held Mirta until she stopped struggling. “It’s okay, kid. It’s okay. Take it easy.” Her mother was dead. Okay, she was a contract killer, but that wasn’t the girl’s fault. He caught Leia’s eye and could see that she was horrified. Whatever Jacen had said that he hadn’t heard had upset her. Maybe the detail was too graphic to share. “Fett, don’t you have anything to say to this kid? She’s your family.”
“He’s not!” Mirta snarled.
Fett simply turned to Han. His voice was as flat and unemotional as ever. “I want Ailyn back. I want her body.”
“Leave that to me,” said Leia. “We’ll sort it out.”
Han couldn’t take it in. He’d had some bizarre days in his life, but this was getting near the top of the scale. “Sweetheart, you’re placating Boba Fett .”
“His daughter just died.”
“He didn’t even know her.”
“Han-“
“She was sent to kill us. You forgot that small detail?”
“Han, you remember when Anakin died?”
The reminder of his son’s death stopped him in his tracks for a moment. The pain was as fresh as ever. “But we loved Anakin! We raised him! Fett didn’t even-“
Leia held up her hand for silence. “Don’t, Han. Nobody knows what Fett feels or doesn’t feel. And neither of us would be standing here now if he hadn’t saved us from the Yuuzhan Vong. Okay?”
Leia’s compassion always humbled Han, but he felt she was wasting it on Fett. She had a point, but she was being way too kind to a man who’d nearly killed him more than once.
But Fett had kept his word. Thrackan was dead, even if the girl had probably fired the fatal shot. And there were no more contracts out on the Solo family-as far as Fett knew, anyway.
Han patted Mirta’s back. She was shaking now. He felt sorry for her, not Fett. “You two better sort yourselves out. Fast.”
“He’s all you’ve got, Mirta,” Leia said quietly. “Trust me, however bad things are, your family is all you have in the end.”
Don’t get too cocky about your diplomatic skills, honey, thought Han. Mirta might have been tear-streaked, but she also looked murderous. She’d killed one man tonight and she didn’t look like she’d have any trouble making it two.
Han thought it was high time he and Leia worried about their own skins. Could they live on Corellia openly now? He picked up his comlink to call Dur Gejjen, but stopped as Fett suddenly took off his armor plates, chest and back, and dumped them on the chair. He held his arms at his sides.
“Pick up your blaster, Mirta Gev,” he said. Leia moved as if to stop her. “No, let her do it.”
And the kid did. She bent down and took the blaster in both hands and held it level, right hand grasping the grip, left cupped beneath to steady the shot, and aimed at Fett. She was deadly calm now.
Fett reached up slowly and lifted off his helmet.
He was gray and scarred and hard. It was the first time Han had ever seen his enemy’s face. It was far less than he had imagined and all the more shocking for that. It was a face that was as unfeeling as a slab of rock. They said your life was etched in your face over time, and Fett’s life must have been utterly cold, brutal, and alone.
“Go on,” said Fett. He was staring straight at his granddaughter. “Do it.”
Stang, she’s going to …
Mirta wasn’t crying now.
“I said do it.”
She held her aim for a count of five and then lowered the blaster. Han wondered if Leia had given her mind a little gentle influence but decided not to ask, not just yet. Then she sat down on the battered sofa, blaster on one knee, fingers still tight on the grip. If Han had expected a tearful reconciliation, he had the wrong family. Fett’s ice-water blood definitely ran in her veins.
Leia watched warily as if she was expecting Mirta to change her mind. Fett replaced his armor and stood by the window again, watching the police activity in the city beyond, blaster at his side.