“We are a literal people, Fett.”
“I’m literal, too. Let’s all be literal together.”
Sikili went quiet for a moment. Fett could hear the faint clicking of his mouthparts. “Now that you have abundant beskar, you’ll rearm. Roche may be outside of your sector, but the last time Mandalorians had plenty of beskar, the Mandalore sector became much, much bigger.”
Verpine took a little time to explain where they were heading, grinding through each step of the sequence, but they got there in the end.
“You’re worried we’ll expand all over you,” said Fett. “Invade you.”
“Yes. It’s the specialty of your species.”
“We’re homebodies now. We like to put our feet up and watch the holovids.”
“When you make jokes, the hives become more worried, because you’re not a joking man. Therefore”
It was getting painful and he didn’t want to hear Sikili’s character analysis. Fett found it amusing that he hadn’t threatened or hinted about the fate of Rocheor even thought much about itbut that had always been part of his armory, as it had been for the Mandalorians as a whole. They had a certain reputation that did the advance work for them.
“Sign a treaty with us, then,” he offered.
“To do what, Fett?”
“Nonaggression pact. Neighborly mutual aid.”
“You have nothing to fear from us, so you’ll want something in exchange, because you’re a mercenary and”
“Bounty hunter, part-time. What I want is the mutual bit.”
“What can we do for you to avoid being added to your collection?”
“Supply us with exclusive products in exchange for our exclusive metal. We give you our special skillsmilitary strengthand you give us yours in defense technology and quality control. Maybe even joint work on new projects.”
“Ah, you Mandalorians have always … adopted technology from others. You might forcibly adopt ours now.”
“Deal’s on the table. You made me notice you. Bad idea.”
Sikili was silent again. Verpines had a way of communicating instantly with all hive members through some organ in their chests. Fett guessed that Sikili was consulting the hive.
“Deal accepted. We’ll need details.”
“I’ll get my people to talk to your people.” Fett could imagine the reaction on Coruscantand Corellia. “We look forward to a long and productive alliance with Roche.”
“We will announce this happy and reassuring news. Good day, Fett.”
The good thing about literal-minded insectoids was that they were transparent in their business dealings: no games, no bluff, andusuallyno skipping out on deals. Fett wondered if he should have talked it through with the clans first, but it was his prerogative to choose Mandalore’s allies, and teaming up with the best technologists in the galaxy wasn’t going to upset anybodynot on Mandalore, anyway. It would certainly ruin everyone else’s day.
So people think we’re rearming. We are, but not for the reasons they think. This could be … interesting.
He secured Slave I, out of habit rather than mistrust of his own people, and took the speeder bike up to the woodland where he’d re-buried his father’s remains after exhuming them on Geonosis.
Ailyn was laid to rest there, too, but Mirta was clearly still uneasy about not returning her to Kiffu. She seemed to see the interment as a temporary stopover. He’d marked the graves with simple stones because it mattered to him to be able to find them again, although he had never been one for visiting graves.
Not even yours, Dad.
Now he was going to put that right. He had no excuse. He wasn’t a galaxy away.
All the times I’ve traveled from world to world, all the light-years I’ve covered, and I never called in at Geonosis to pay my respects.
Fett grasped briefly at an excuse in his Mandalorian roots. Beviin had always told him it was the armor that mattered to Mandalorians, not the decayed shell abandoned by the spirit. I did that, didn’t I? I recovered my Dad’s armor and left his body. I did that much, at least.
Nomadic mercenaries couldn’t have cemeteries, and they couldn’t carry corpses with them. It was probably based on pragmatism, but Mandalorianswith few exceptions, like the Mandaloresstill didn’t have elaborate shrines and graves even here.
The clearing in the woods was a peaceful, unspoiled spot, somewhere the Yuuzhan Vong hadn’t managed to destroy. Tall silver-leaved galek trees, centuries old, fringed an area of spongy moss and short yellow grass, giving the spot an air of permanent sunlit calm even on an overcast day. Even before Fett set down the speeder bike, he could see Mirta kneeling by her mother’s grave, staring down at it, with Ghes Orade, Novoc Vevut’s son, staring at her. Their helmets were placed to one side.