[Legacy Of The Force] - 08(145)

-Comm message from Tahiri Veila, Sith apprentice, to Darth Caedus, Dark Lord of the Sith and Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance

KELDABE, MANDALORE: A WEEK LATER

Mirta and Grade had exchanged marriage vows that morning, Vevut said, and so it was high time to have few drinks and celebrate.

Fett heard about it from Beviin. If he allowed himself to think about it too much, it would eat at him. He sat in Slave I’s cockpit half listening to the HNE financial news while he did the maintenance on his HUD. Mandalore, self-sufficient and well able to pull itself up by its boot-straps minus Fett, went on thriving all around him.

You have to give her the stone. It won’t change a thing, but at least she can sell it, and she might even listen to what it’s got to say.

He fished in his belt pouch and held the oval stone up to the light from the viewscreen; a royal blue heart-of-fire as rare as they came, five centimeters long and superbly cut. His broker had done pretty well to find it. If he held it just 50, the rainbow of colors was complete. He peered into its heart with a magnifier from his HUD tool kit and admired the play of internal fire that created the iridescence. Geolo-gists said it was due to microscopic bubbles of pinaclite trapped when the crystal was first formed, and also that the substance might have explained the stone’s ability to store data from people who’d owned it.

Kiffar preferred the more mystic explanation, that it trapped a little bit of the soul of both giver and receiver. It definitely did record something. Gotab-the barve was a Jedi, and Fett had worked that out even if Beviin didn’t want to discuss it-could certainly skim Fett’s unhappy marital history from it in painful detail. He wondered how much he’d burden Sintas if some of his soul got trapped in the magnificent blue stone.

You know the thing actually does it. You had proof. Loud hammering on the side viewscreen made him look up. Beviin was standing on the hull, making impatient gestures.

“S’open, “Fett said.

“Get your shebs to your granddaughter’s wedding feast, Bob’ika.” Beviin stood in the hatchway in his cobalt-blue armor, with a dark navy leather kama, the traditional Mandalorian half kilt. He didn’t normally wear that. It was his holiday best for a special day. “It’s a disgrace if you don’t.”

Fett held up the gem between thumb and forefinger. “Matches your beskar’gam.” “For Mirta?” “Sin.”

“Is that a good idea?” “It’s a good-bye. I’m not delusional.” Beviin just shook his head. “She’d probably prefer one of your properties.”

“I’m way ahead.” Fett reached inside his dump pouch and slid out a flimsi envelope, the kind old-fashioned lawyers used. “Portfolio here of shares and property. She’ll never have to worry about bounty hunting again. When you give it to her, say that…”

“Shab, Bob’ika, “Beviin said. “Tell her yourself. It’s one errand I’m not running for you. But when you want to tell me what happened-I mean what really happened-then you know where I am.”

Beviin jumped down off the airframe, kama slapping against his plates, and stalked off. How did he think Fett could show up to celebrate her marriage, with what Sintas had told her? It was better that the girl had a fresh start and got swept up in a clan that didn’t have a reputation like the Fett one, or its remarkable bad luck.

Sintas won’t want for anything. Nor Mirta. It’s the least I can do.

Fett went on tinkering with his helmet and wondering if Jaina Solo had what it took to deal with her brother.

“What’s the matter, Bo?” said a voice behind him. “Don’t you worry about security anymore?”

He stopped. Sintas was right behind him. She wasn’t going to leave his life in a tidy, anesthetized way. He’d been naive to think he could avoid the pain.

“I can leave my hatch open here. I don’t have to worry about Mandos, Sin.”

“That’s just what Jaster said and look what happened to him… so, as soon as I get my memory back and I can see, you’re gone again…. still angry?”

“No.” He waited for her to edge forward into the front of the cockpit and look at him, but she stayed aft. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“And why haven’t you shown at Mirta’s celebration?” “Cowardice.”

“I told Mirta the truth. She’s devastated.” “You shouldn’t have done it before her wedding.” “Bo, I never made Ailyn hate you. I never told her anything. That was the problem. She filled in the gaps too much. I should have explained, but I wanted us to get on with our lives…. forget you…. hey, you know.”