“And Ba’buir wasn’t what I grew up expecting, some womanizing thug blowing his fortune in cantinas. He was just this…. wasted, austere, lonely man…. hard to even like, and yet I found I was proud of him.”
Mirta let out a long breath and reached for her helmet. It was a cue that she’d had enough of baring her soul. Jaina counted it as a plus that she’d even bothered to talk, let alone in those frank terms.
“I still love my brother, but there’s nothing left to like about him, “Jaina said. “Love’s a very separate thing. It has an independent life of its own.”
“Well, if you have to earn love on points, it’s not love, is it? It’s approval.”
Jaina peeled a chunk of uj’alayi stuck to her finger, and decided the syrup would make great gasket sealant. One of the commandos, the tattooed man called Carid, took off his helmet and cocked his head on one side in an aw-come-on gesture. “Hey, plan the celebration you’ll have after your marriage. What’s the point of surviving a mission if you’re going to be this depressed?”
That was Mando sympathy. “It’s a Fett thing, “Mirta said.
“Ah, I bet Orade will teach you how to laugh. You’ll get the hang of it.”
Mirta seemed to manage a twitch of a smile at the mention of her betrothed. The minutes ticked away. Jaina had the sense of being in the engine room of an ancient seagoing ship, surrounded by pipes and hydraulic systems, rather than drifting imperceptibly in space. A scraping sound made her look up at the deckhead.
“Buy’cese, “said Carid. Mirta sealed her helmet, and he looked past her at Jaina. “Put your breather on, Jedi. That’s someone docking up top. Just in case the seals don’t hold.”
“Fix them with this, “Jaina said, holding up her last wrapped chunk of uj’alayi. Everyone laughed, and she heard them this time. “I’m always happy to be test aircrew in a totally unproven vessel…”
“It’ll hold, “said Ram Zerimar. “Time was when Mando’ade rode war droids into deep space, no fancy hulls, raw vacuum that far from your shebs.” He indicated a tiny gap between gloved thumb and forefinger. “That’s how we won an empire. You going soft or something, Car’ika?”
“Oh, I know, we were tough then. We’d go two weeks without breathing, and half a dead pygmy borrat was enough to feed a whole clan for a week.” Carid folded his arms across his barrel of a chest and stretched out his legs. “If any of our babies couldn’t lift a beskad by the time they were weaned, we’d harden’em up by catching them a full-grown Trandoshan and making ‘em kill it with their paci-fier and eat it raw. Ah, those were the days.” He belched. “Pardon me. We’re just too cultured and sensitive now, you know.”
Jaina bit her lip to stifle a laugh. One of the overhead hatches opened, and Fett slid down the ladder to land among them.
“Docks with Slave I just fine, “he said, hooking his thumb in his belt. They really were testing the Tra’kad on the job. It didn’t seem to faze any of them. “We got mission details now.”
“It’s a go, then?” Jaina asked.
“No, but we know what we have to do when we get the signal.” Fett passed around datachips. “Latest floor plans and layouts here. We’ll either be taking out power grids to disable cannon batteries on the orbital yards, as needed, or falling back to Pellaeon’s flagship Bloodfin to defend it if he gets in trouble.”
“Pellaeon? Even in a little toy Turbulent?” It was a woman under the helmet, then: that must have been Isko Talgal. Beviin spoke of her in hushed tones. “What’s going to put a dent in that?”
“Daala’s keen that someone should look out for him personally. “
“Does she know something we don’t?”
“Daala has a contingency plan for everything. Somewhere, she’s briefing someone to take out the Mandos if we don’t behave. That’s why she’s so hard to kill.” Fett smelled faintly of jetpack fuel and antiseptic. Smells were more noticeable in the cramped compartment. “My personal orders-if you run into Jacen Solo, you leave him. Unless you really need to kill him. No hunting, no trophies, no avenging the Mand’alor. He’s Jaina’s, when she’s good and ready. Or else me and Beviin have wasted valuable time on her.”
“Got it, Mand’alor, “Carid said.
Jaina wasn’t sure if it was a Mandalorian courtesy, or just that Fett wanted her to share some misery by way of general payback. She let it pass. “What do you want me to do? You all seem to know what your roles are.”