Jango watched his son carefully lower Slave 1 into the atmosphere of Mortola.
"It's great, isn't it, Dad?" Boba had a smile on his face so bright, Jango smiled himself beneath his helmet, but did not reply.
"We should live here!" Boba said, excitement rising in his voice.
Jango actually considered it for a moment. It was a bright, emerald jewel, coated with dense jungle and forest, with the occasional lake. As they flew in closer, Jango could see a small white speck, glittering like a diamond on a mottled green robe.
"There, Boba. That's the city." Jango pointed.
"What's it called?"
"Ralluum. Population fifteen thousand. 2 percent 5 percent enslaved, and the rest of the populous is of the lower working class."
"It's not very big." Boba remarked.
"Do you still want to live here?" Jango asked, watching his son proudly.
"Yeah." It's not as rainy as Kamino. Look!" Boba pointed to the delicate city, with tall, winding spires, towers, lush gardens and fountains.
"Yes, I see it Boba. It's very beautiful."
"No, Dad. LOOK!" Jango followed his son's gaze to the high marble wall that surrounded it. Atop of this wall, was what looked like a young woman, walking atop the walls backwards. And blindfolded.
"She's going to fall!" Boba shouted. The young woman began to lose her balance, limbs waving through the air.
"We can't interfere." Jango said stiffly. "It may be a punishment."
"Are you sure Dad?"
"I'm positive. No one would do that sort of thing for fun. Take us to the hangar, that way." To Jango's great relief, she did not fall, but caught her balance, continuing the slow, backward walk. Jango slapped himself mentally. He shouldn't have felt anything. He must be going soft.
"Just land us." He commanded.
"Yes, Dad." Boba complied, but his voice failed to hide the contempt in his voice.
"Boba, even if I wanted to, I wouldn't—"
"I know." Said Boba, finally masking his voice. "Interfere."
Jango crossed his arms. It hurt him to see his son upset, but he could never compromise his values. It would be a poor example.