Any characters with a resemblance to fan-created anime-manga drawn characters living or dead are purely coincidental.
Lightning flashed, illuminating the dark room. He stood alone, staring out the window of his small apartment. The digital clock on the wall read 1:32 A.M., Coruscant time. Jango continued to stare, lost in thought, as growling thunder echoed across the stormy seas below.
Lightening flashed again, and through the reflected glass, Jango saw he was not alone. He turned.
"Boba?"
The dark-eyed boy stared up at him innocently. "Dad."
"Do you need something? Why are you up so late?" He reprimanded his son gently. "You need your rest."
"So do you, Dad." Boba returned, yawning.
Jango chuckled inside, and almost smiled. He drew his son under his arm, and they watched the lightening flicker over the water, silent for a time.
"Dad?"
"Yes, son?"
"Why do we live here?"
Jango stood quietly, thinking. "Because my job is here."
"Would you live somewhere else, if you could?" Boba asked, looking up at him earnestly.
"I'm not sure. I've never found somewhere I could stay for long."
Jango assumed a thoughtful position, returning to the depths of his mind.
"Dad?"
Jango was beginning to be annoyed.
"Yes?"
"What are you thinking about?"
Jango almost replied, but then stopped. "It's time for you to go to bed, Boba." Head hanging, Boba left his father's side to his bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.
What had he been thinking about? Jango himself wasn't sure. It was somewhere deep inside him, hidden under a deep, emotionless mask. Somehow, he was unsatisfied. He didn't know for the life of him why. He had a son he loved dearly, a steady line of work, fierce reputation, and enough money to buy a planet of his own. Most of the money went to Boba's savings account for later use. Despite his immense wealth, he never spent much, preferring the more Spartan life. He was wise enough to know by simple observation, that spending wealth on many possessions does not secure happiness.
A flash of lightening filled the room with white energy, leaving him in a darker state than before as his eyes adjusted. The rumble of thunder shook the apartment, speaking to him. You know what you want. You know what you want. You know what you want. Jango pushed it away. Feelings were tricks, tricks your mind play on you. He was not about to give in to the unpredictable land of emotions. It was best to keep his head about him.
The late morning came. Boba walked up to the table zombie-style. Jango sat placidly, sipping his morning cup of caff, and reading the holonet news.
"Sleep well?"
Boba nodded mutely, eyes half closed as he sat down. Jango passed him a bowl of strange assorted fruits. Boba picked his favorite, a green bumpy kind Taun We grew in her laboratory.
His holo-transmitter beeped twice. Jango stood up, bumping the table, and causing Boba to drop his fruit. It fell with a splat, and flecks of green goo splashed all over the floor.
Jango calmly picked up a wet rag, and began scrubbing the floor. Boba picked up another fruit, and the holo-transmitter beeped again. Jango checked it carefully. It wasn't from Kamino, or anyone he knew. He stood up and opened it.
A shimmering blue image appeared, revealing an aging man in elegant robes.
"You are Jango Fett, I presume?" Jango knew by his tone of voice he was of the higher class.
"I am." Jango noticed he was holding a dirty rag for a possible job interview, and dropped it instantly.
"I do need some help. I am the governor of Mortolan. It is a peaceful moon west of Yavin. Recently I have been plagued by rebellion among my citizens. I need you to take out their leader, which I hope will dissolve them."
"My pay?"
"Fifteen thousand credits." Jango almost snorted out loud. Fifteen thousand? Who did he think he was, for a mere fifteen K?
"I understand that this might be a slightly lower rate than usual clients give you, but 15,000 is all I can afford."
Slightly lower? That's not enough to tempt anyone of my status.
The governor went on. "I understand you are a busy man, but I hope you will come. None of my peacekeepers can keep up with them."
"I accept."
The governor looked surprised and delighted at this acceptance. "I thank you!" He cried, kneeling in gratitude. "I was told if there was anyone who could help me, you would be the man!"
"I am."
"Excellent!" The governor stood up, rubbing his hands together. "Do you wish to know why the rebels—"
"I don't ask for backstories." Jango crossed his arms. "When do you want me?"
"Would as soon as possible be too much?" The governor asked, still rubbing his hands.
"I'll see you in two days." Jango shut the hologram down, and sat on his couch. Boba was wide awake now, and peppered him with questions, eyes shining.
"You got another job?! Where is it? Can I come, Dad? Please? Where is it, Dad?"
Jango smiled at his son's enthusiasm. "You're full of questions today."
"Sorry, Dad." Boba hung his head.
"Questions are nothing to be ashamed of." Boba looked up at him and grinned. "And pack your things. You're coming with me."