Fett gripped the edge of the stone balustrade, “I’d know.”
Beviin just nodded. “You’d never abandon anything without a good reason.”
No, for once Beviin was wrong. And if Sintas got her mind back, she’d tell him so.
Chapter 7
No Mandalorian soldier should have to fight an aruetii’s war for the price of a day’s food. No Mando’ad should have to fight at all, except to defend Manda’yaim, his home, or his family, or because he wants to. We have to stop being the tool of governments that don’t care if we live or die so long as we do their bidding.
-Kad’ika, also known as Venku, addressing an informal gathering of clan leaders
BEVIIN-VASUR FARM, NEAR KELDABE
Fett waited outside the door for a few moments. He could hear the droid whirring as it moved around the bedroom, and Dr. Beluine’s murmuring voice. As soon as the doctor came out, he’d go in and sit with Sintas for a while. After that, he’d start his sessions with Jaina Solo. His day was planned.
“Grandmama keeps asking where she is.” Mirta came up behind him and nudged him in the small of his back. She wasn’t quite up to taking his hand or hugging him, and he wouldn’t have known how to respond to that kind of intimacy or compassion anyway. “We keep telling her, but her short-term memory is shot to haran.”
“Early days, “Fett said, wondering who we was.
“She won’t let go of the heart-of-fire.”
“Did you call her grandmamat”
“I thought that would be asking for trouble, Ba’buir…”
Fett heard boots in the passage behind him, slow and careful, like someone was creeping in and trying not to be noticed. Even without his helmet’s 360-degree vision, he knew who it was.
” ‘Morning, Grade.”
“Su’cuy, Mand’alor.” Ghes Orade, Mirta’s new love, stopped in his tracks, clutching some wild vormur blooms. “I brought some flowers for Sintas.”
“She’s blind.”
Grade gave him a look that said heartless barve. “She can smell the scent.”
It was a nice touch, something Fett hadn’t thought about. He better treat my granddaughter like a princess, too. Fett turned slowly to give the lad the full benefit of his unspoken warning. “You marrying Mirta, then?”
“Yes, Mand’alor.”
“You’re the only Mando’ad on this planet who cowers to me. Don’t.” Grade was a typical tough Mando lad, but in-laws were a lot scarier than Yuuzhan Vong. “One minute I’m an orphan. The next I’ve got family coming out of the woodwork like squalls.”
“Okay, “said Grade, spine stiffening. “I’m marrying Mirta, and if anyone has to take care of her grandmother long-term, it’ll be us.”
My grandson-in-law. Fierfek. Fett assessed him, and thought he’d do.
A Mandalorian wedding consisted of four short vows and was usually a private ceremony for the couple, not their families. Fett, still thinking in aruetii terms, wondered whether to feel offended that he hadn’t been invited, and then realized nobody else would attend, either, although there’d be communal drinking and sentimentality afterward. Not a credit would be wasted on fripperies. Mando’ade operated on plain, honest pledges and contracts, in love as well as business.
“No urge to revert to Kiffar culture, then?” he asked Mirta.
“I’ve made my choice, “she said.
The door swung open and Beluine came out, looking anxious. Fett took him to one side while Mirta and Orade slipped into the room.
“Is she going to get better?” Fett demanded.
“The fact that she’s alert and mobile is remarkable enough.” Beluine lowered his voice so that Fett had to strain to hear him, but he seemed indignant that his treatment hadn’t been appreciated. “Most cases were in some degree of coma for months. Her Kiffar brain chemistry may have offered her some protection from the worst of the carbonite trauma.”
Kiffar were different, Fett knew that. The ability to detect past events from inanimate objects was proof of that, just like Gotab had done when he’d told Fett far too much about his history with Sintas simply from holding that heart-of-fire stone. He had to be a Kiffar, too. “So she might improve.”
“She might. Carboniting affects neural connections in the brain. That’s why your wife can’t see, and why her memory is affected. Given time, neurons do regenerate. Stimulation helps-little mental exercises to stimulate her memory, objects she might remember, like the necklace, holoimages, that kind of thing.”
Ex-wife, Doctor. Ex-wife.
But the weight of responsibility felt the same. Fett had never been very good at thinking for two, unless the other was his father. “You’re saying she’s brain-damaged.”