[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(140)

Life was unraveling again. Fett had tried to do it right and take the blame, as he deserved, and now it was spinning off like a broken rotor and hitting Mirta, who’d stuck by her mother through thick and thin. Fett felt that his whole life had been about others taking the shrapnel from the blasts he caused.

“Don’t blame her, Sin, “he said. “Whether Ailyn knew it or not, she was right to loathe me. The only good news is that I’m a rich old man now, and you’re still young, so I can pay and you can do some living.”

That was his emotional limit. He’d hit the end-stop today. If he’d been like Beviin, all heart and pure courage, unafraid of love or the risk of being hurt by it, he’d have held Sintas, and told her all the little details that would have softened the blow and made more sense of it once the shock wore off. But he wasn’t Beviin, nowhere near. He al-most got the whole thing off his chest and told her why they’d split up, but he lost his nerve. There was a limit to how much osik could hit the fan after all.

“I’ll see you later, “he said. “I think we can find a special doctor to get your memory back, and maybe your sight.” Sintas had her hand to her mouth now in a kind of slow-burn horror. “Well… at least I’ll be ready for it…” “I’m sorry.”

She rubbed her eyes. “I’m sorry, too, Bo.” She didn’t even seem to realize she’d said it. Bo. It was what she’d always called him.

“Go on, “Mirta said, “you’ve got things to do. I’ll sit here awhile.”

Fett tried to calculate how many hours he’d spent with Sintas since she’d been revived, and it probably didn’t add up to a full day. No, it wouldn’t be any different this time, even if the years they’d lost were magically erased; he couldn’t face spending time with people. As he slipped out of the farmhouse, Beviin was sawing planks in the front yard.

“How’s it going?” he asked, looking as if he knew any-way.

“Bad. Could be worse.” This was Beviin’s home, and somehow Fett filled it with the detritus of his own disastrous life, and Beviin never complained. The man found room for Fett’s damaged ex-wife and a passing Jedi whose family was pretty well as screwed as Fett’s now. He had to ask, or else it’d look as if he was the only person who didn’t realize that Beviin had saved him time after time. “Why do you bail me out all the time, Goran? And don’t say it’s because it’s duty to the Mand’alor.”

“Because nobody can live the way you do and not notice how much it hurts.” Beviin carried on sawing. “I suppose it’s me being grateful for not being that way.” Beviin never pulled his punches.

“I don’t understand why any of you do it, “Fett said. “Shysa, Spar-why didn’t they say, ‘Fett doesn’t care, why should I do anything for him’? I didn’t even know Spar.”

“I hear Spar did it for Shysa, actually, because he told him Mandalore needed to look strong and stable to the outside world, like the Fetts were back.”

Fett never kidded himself it was because of his lovable personality. He had his uses. But then that was how he treated everyone else, so he had nothing to complain about.

And problems went away if you threw enough credits at them: buy an assassin, a bounty hunter, or someone to look after your neglected wife. The only one that wouldn’t go away with a good dose of creds was time.

But Mirta was right. He had things to do, and if he didn’t, he’d find some. He strode back to Slave I, opened the comm, and called his broker.

They said the man could acquire anything. He could prove it, then, by finding the biggest blue heart-of-fire gem on the market, the rarest and costliest of gems.



OYU’BAAT TAPCAF, KELDABE

“They said you wanted to see me, Jedi.”

Jaina looked up. She’d felt him coming anyway; Gotab left a very distinctive impression in the Force. Venku, al-ways hovering close to support the old man if he faltered, was a dim light next to him. They were both edgy and a lit-tle hostile.

“I do, Gotab, “she said, and stood to pull up a chair for him. Cham the barkeep lined up ales. “And you, Venku. Please, sit down.”

Both men lifted off their helmets. She could see Fett reflected clearly in Venku now that she was so familiar with that face. The mouth was different, but this was definitely Fett’s genetic material. She’d learned fast not to call it fam-ily.

“You want something from me, “Gotab said. “Spit it out.”

“You’re a healer. Am I right?”