Chapter Eighty-Seven: Boba

"Relax," I hummed to Boba, who sat beside me in the cockpit. "They won't give us any trouble." He still shifted anxiously, watching the comms as he waited for my clearance codes to go through.

If anything, I was feeling the opposite of him. I was relieved to finally be getting him and Bossk off Coruscant. The Jedi Council had been watching me even closer since news of Boba's escape circulated. They came to me first, after all.

"We will be searching the premises," Windu announced, arms folded across his chest and expression sour.

"Will you, now?" I responded with snark, mimicking his stance. "That's hardly respectful of my contract with the Republic. What's this about?" I fully knew what this was about and he was aware of that.

"Don't act stupid. Boba Fett escaped from the Coruscant prison last night. It's most likely he came here, looking for you."

I laughed at him, Anakin's expression dark over his shoulder. I could tell it wasn't at me, though. "The last time I saw Boba, he had me kidnapped and tortured. The only reason he'd come here is to kill me, and I'd shoot him dead first." Anakin seemed surprised at my words before Windu spoke again.

"I remember how you parted ways, Miss Fett," Windu said evenly, but I could feel his frustration. "He would seek you for assistance."

"You're very sure," I teased, leaning against the polished bartop.

"I encourage you to step aside." Not a very patient, for a Jedi.

I only smirked. "Yeah, that won't be happening. You have no need to search, because Boba isn't here." That wasn't a lie. If they'd arrived an hour earlier, they'd have interrupted our breakfast together.

But they didn't. Too bad for them.

Windu stared at me but I didn't flinch, meeting his gaze steadily. "I won't let you use this as an excuse to rifle through my things. I've answered your question, now get out and continue your search elsewhere."

The elder of the Jedi was about to fight back when Skywalker spoke softly. He sounded tired. "Master, I can feel she's not lying. The kid's not here." That was helpful.

I decided to push a little harder. "Besides, don't you have bigger prey to hunt?" They both cut me a quick look, Windu looking angrier than Anakin. Anakin, honestly, looked like he agreed with me. "I heard Hardeen escaped with Bane and Eval," I dared. "You'd been interested in Eval before, right? Why the sudden change?"

Windu scowled at me, but took half a step backwards. I'd won. "Be sure to report if he does arrive," he ordered, returning the conversation to Boba.

"Like I said, he'd only come to kill me, and I'd shoot him first," I lied easily, guessing they likely weren't searching for my truthfulness anymore. "But sure, I'll call you to come grab his corpse."

Anakin frowned at me over Windu's shoulder, likely knowing I was fibbing about something, even without sensing it. He knew me enough at this point to know I'd never kill Boba, not to mention hand his body over to the Jedi. Thankfully, he remained silent in his festering anger and followed his disgruntled master from my club.

I let out a shaky breath when the door closed behind them, slouching against the bar heavily. Merl laughed from behind the bar, cleaning a glass casually. "I can't believe that worked."

"Codes accepted," came the communications officer's voice. "Good luck on Naboo, Miss Fett."

Boba's brow raised, but I merely engaged the comms, "Thanks Cable." The connection ended as we passed the blockade, the anxiety dissipating from my passengers. Bossk was in the back lounging in the cargo bay. It was empty aside from a few passcode-sealed bins he wouldn't be able to access, so I wasn't worried. Besides, as always, Apex was ever-vigilant.

My fingers tapped along the console, mapping our lightspeed path before engaging the hyperdrive. The stars blurred into bright lines, the ship vibrating slightly as it zipped through space.

"So, Naboo, huh?"

"Not for you," I chuckled, leaning back and turning my chair to look at Boba. "I have a mission on Naboo. Luckily, Tatooine is on the way."

Boba hummed. "Dad used to go there a lot."

"That's where we first met, actually," I admitted. "Well, where I first saw him. We never talked, of course."

"Why not?"

I laughed darkly. "I was a slave, remember? Your dad freed me from Death Watch, who were after Jabba."

"So why are you suggesting I go to the planet Jabba lives on, then? Wouldn't you hate him?"

I cringed. "Eh…it's complicated. As far as slave-owners go, he wasn't the worst. To me, at least. I know he was scum to others. But he helped me get work as a hunter and he's fair as long as you don't cross him and you get the job done." He was still silent. "You don't have to love your boss, Boba. Actually, in our line of work, you usually don't. If this line is what you want." I guess I'd kind of assumed.

"It is," he said quickly before his eyes cut away. "Honestly, I'm not sure if I'd know how to do anything else."

"I understand that feeling," I sighed. "Tatooine is a dangerous place, but it's a central hub for a lot of syndicates. You won't struggle to find jobs and you'll be able to make a name for yourself."

His brows were knit in thought. "Do you run jobs out of your club?" That was kind of random.

"I used to," I admitted. "I ran a small syndicate, really, mostly through word of mouth and friends." My knuckles rubbed at my eyes tiredly. "That ended when I started my contracts with the Republic, of course." I paused. "Though, I think Merl still runs some jobs here and there."

"Your bartender?"

"He runs the club, really. More than I do. I really just supply the money and sometimes show up to party or bash heads."

Boba chuckled, yet offered, "I think you're selling yourself short."

"Considering you're a wanted escaped convict, you never got to see me do anything with my club." And I had absolutely done no behind the scenes work in the last few days. With Boba finally out of prison, I'd been spending it with him.

Of course, I'd remembered at some point that I'd needed to tell Rex about Kenobi. I'd waited until we'd settled Boba and Bossk into their safe house, all of us electing it was safer for them both there than at my club. By then Rex had received orders to guard the Chancellor. He was to 'fill in' for Skywalker while he pursued a lead on Hardeen. I'd wanted to tell him then, but we were still in the presence of my brother and his protector. My lips remained sealed as Rex left.

I'd had to wait until he was relieved on the next rotation, the man immediately returning to my club when he was free. I'd been waiting, hoping he would, so that I could finally tell him everything.

"Anakin is not going to be happy," was the first thing he said after a long silence.

"I know, but we need to tell him."

Rex shook his head, rubbing a gloved hand over his buzzed hair. He was still half-dressed in his armor, his leave time not being long enough for him to change out of his blacks. Instead, he'd thrown a jacket and pants over them to blend in on his trek down to the club's level. "It's too late to tell him," he said. "He left to pursue Hardeen–" he stopped himself. "Kenobi. Kriff." He rubbed at his temples this time. "This is not good."

"Hopefully, Anakin doesn't accidentally kill Obi-wan out there," I started, leaning against his side in the empty booth. My club was closed during the day, the room devoid of life aside from the two of us. "But when he gets back, I need to make sure he knows. The Council should've told him."

"Kenobi should've told him," Rex grunted back. He wasn't wrong there.

"He's going to need you after this," I said softly.

But Rex shook his head, turning to pull me to him and wrap his arms around me, his head leaning against mine. "No, after this? After this…he's going to need Padme."

"Is it true Jabba has a monster beneath his throne room?" Boba's voice sliced through my thoughts, shredding the memory like wet paper.

I blinked at his sudden, rather random question. "Um, yes? It's a rancor. It's not actually horrible, though, Jabba just treats it like osik. Why?"

He ignored my question, continuing with his own. "And is it true he holds executions and feeds people to a pet sarlacc?"

"For starters, where are these questions coming from?" I laughed, glancing back at the door to the cargo bay. "Was Bossk telling you this nonsense?"

"Is it nonsense if it's true?"

"Embellishment equates to nonsense," I argued with a roll of my eyes. "You can't have a pet sarlacc, they're not a tamable creature. To be honest, I'm not even sure if it's a 'creature' or a 'plant' or something in between. But it will eat you if you are in its grasp, no matter who you are. Even Jabba."

"So he does throw people into a sarlacc pit! Did you ever see it?"

"I was Jabba's translator, so yeah. A lot."

"Rancor, too?"

"What is wrong with you? Yes." I shook my head at him, exasperated.

"And is it true neither can be survived?"

I hummed in the back of my throat. "I doubt it, but it's not like Jabba is equipping his victims to survive. He wants them to die." I shrugged. "A rancor can absolutely be killed with the right gear. A sarlacc too, though I'm not sure how fun being inside it would be." I thought for a moment. "It's super acidic inside, I'm sure, but it's not like it's defending itself otherwise once it eats you." I rubbed my jaw. "Maybe the best way to kill it is from the inside? Throwing in explosives might work." I did some calculations in my head based on how large a Sarlaac was supposed to be. "A lot of explosives." I glanced up, seeing Boba's eyes wide at my words. "Is this helping to get you excited to see Jabba's Palace one day?"

His expression fell. "One day?"

"You weren't expecting to just walk in there and get a job from Jabba, were you?" He was. "Oh. Um. Yeah, you need an invitation to the Palace. An uninvited guest better have a good reason and bring a good gift." I patted his shoulder gently. "It takes time, but you'll get there quickly, I'm sure." He didn't seem thrilled, but didn't say anything against it. "If I'm being honest, sometimes the safest place to be is in charge, especially if you're seen as vulnerable. You might do well leading a crew."

His brow lifted, but he seemed intrigued now. "Like how I tried to do before?"

"You weren't leading anything. Aurra was in charge of that mess," I dismissed. "I think you could do it, when you're ready. Then you can choose who you have on the jobs you choose, which is always a safer bet."

"How would I know who to trust?" Boba's voice was quiet, surprising us both.

I sighed, leaning back in my chair as I crossed my arms. "Well, you have Bossk for starters. And you have me, though I wouldn't recommend including me on any big jobs for a while until you make your own mark." His brow lifted in question. "Opinions surrounding me are pretty divisive nowadays," I offered as an explanation.

Boba laughed genuinely, glancing out the front to watch the stars streak by. "Do you have any connections you suggest I make to start getting to Jabba?"

"Oh, he'll hear about any good work you do, don't worry," I chuckled. "The Hutts and other crime bosses like them have eyes and ears everywhere in their territories. And they like to keep a special eye on the hunters operating in their sectors." My fingers tapped at my jaw as I thought. "Embo is a good choice, and he frequents Tatooine. He's a good friend and I trust him." Boba nodded, his gaze turning back to fully focus on my words. "I'm in good standings with Sugi, a Zabrak hunter too. Embo would probably know where to find her if she isn't already on Tatooine."

Boba waited for me to continue, but when I didn't he teased, "That's not very many friends."

"Bounty hunting isn't the line of work for making friends. A lot of them would betray you in an instant," I warned. "Just be careful and watch your back." I shrugged, trying to lighten the mood again. "And if things are really going badly, call me. I'm always here."

"Oh yeah, call my older sister to come bail me out," Boba grumbled, looking away.

"What? I'd be discreet," I assured, but my tone was teasing. "Genuinely, you know to call me if you need me, right?"

Boba offered me a genuine smile and low chuckle. "Of course."

I sighed through my nose slowly, watching the console as it showed us drawing ever closer to Tatooine. I didn't mind going back, and had done so many times before. But I'd be lying if I said the planet didn't hold darkness for me. I was never looking forward to returning.

"I've got some contacts in Mos Eisley," I admitted. "Chalmun owes me some favors. He'll be able to set you up and keep you under the radar for a bit."

"Under the radar?" He complained. "What about jobs?"

"Chalmun will help with that, too, but after you're off the current wanted list for the Republic army."

Boba huffed, but agreed anyway. We sat in silence for a while longer and I felt the Force shift around him darkly. I watched him from the corner of my eye, but said nothing. A lot had happened since Boba went to prison. Especially when it came to my relationship with the Republic and to the Force. I wondered how he'd react to my being Force-sensitive. Or, Ka'ra forbid, he saw I wielded a lightsaber.

But he'd find out eventually, especially on Tatooine, where rumors spread like flames. I resigned myself to the fact that I'd have to tell him all this prior to our landing, having procrastinated it through the entire time I was sheltering him on Coruscant. Yet, before I could say anything, Boba broke the silence again.

"What's…" He paused for a moment, his voice surprisingly small. "What's war like?" I blinked at him. I certainly hadn't expected that.

I swallowed thickly, trying to find the words to describe what my life had turned into. Finally, I settled on, "Hell. But there are lights within it–ones that remind me that there's things worth fighting for."

"Like your captain?" He kept a straight face and even tone, but I felt his sourness through the Force.

"Boba," I warned darkly. He must have tossed it up to sisterly instinct, not questioning my knowing he was being a shebs. He'd been trying to be kinder about Rex, but he wasn't very kind to Rex the few times he was able to slip away from babysitting the Chancellor. It didn't seem to bother the clone much, but I could feel his worry over how I'd react. He wanted my brother to like him, sure, but I think he knew how much I wanted them to get along more.

Thankfully, Boba redirected the conversation back to his original point. "If it's hell, why keep doing it?"

I hated myself for the blush that dared to warm my face. "I'll admit that in the beginning, it was about money. But eventually, I started to find purpose in it." My brother's brow lifted, but he let me continue. "I had the power to help people, and working for the Republic army gave me the means to do that. Not to mention that I found amazing friends…a family, even." I recalled the collection of pictures I'd amassed in my bedroom at the club. It was meager to some, but to me, it was everything.

"Dad always said to work for something you believed in–"

"Even if that was filling your pockets," I completed with a chuckle. I fished in my bag, taking out a sandwich Rouva had packed for me, ever the worrying den mother. I offered half to my brother, watching him take a greedy bite without hesitation. "More than that happened, though," I admitted, Boba's eyes snapping from the torn edge of his sandwich to me. I took a careful and slow bite of my own meal, chewing thoughtfully as I mulled over how to tell him.

"Are you…okay?" he asked hesitantly.

I nodded, but I wasn't sure if it was a lie or not. Was I okay? I'd been pretty out of balance since Zygerria. Actually…since Umbara. Or maybe the Citadel. Alright… I wasn't okay.

I forged ahead anyway. "It happened all over the place, but through a series of missions involving the Republic, I ended up finding out that I have ancestry in the Sith." I figured bluntness was better. Jango had never been one to beat around the bush, either.

"Sith?!" Boba nearly choked on his food, fist slamming on his chest as he coughed. "Like…the enemies of the Jedi?"

I chuckled darkly. "Kind of. More ancient than that, though. They were a species once, rather than a title for a dark Force-wielder. I have ancestors from that." I thought for a moment, shrugging. "Though, I guess, by extension, ancestry in dark Force-wielders too." Boba seemed a bit worried, so I waved my hand dismissively through the air between us. "It's way far back, but it was enough to catch the gaze of the Jedi and make them nervous. That…and the fact that I am Force-sensitive." I added the last bit in quickly, but still earned a quick snap of his head to face me.

"What?"

I offered a sheepish grin. "In my defense, I didn't really know what it was until I was faced with an actual Jedi. But yes, I was born with a sensitivity to the Force," I paused for a moment, glancing at his contemplative expression. "And I've actually gotten pretty good at wielding it. Well, most of the time, at least." Speaking of wielding. I reached into the pouch on my hip, drawing out my lightsaber hilt and offering it to Boba in an open palm.

He thought for a moment, taking in everything I'd said as he stared at the beskar in my hands. "Did the Jedi give you this?" he asked suddenly.

"No." He seemed relieved. "The opposite, really. It was the blade of my ancestry–a fallen Jedi who broke his kyber crystal, bleeding it red."

His brow furrowed, staring nervously. I could feel his curiosity awakening amongst his anger and confusion. "It's red? And you fight with this within the Republic army?" He actually chuckled, but I just watched him, hand still holding out the lightsaber.

"Did I say it was red?"

"You just–" he cut off his own words with a frustrated huff, realizing I was toying with him. I lifted the lightsaber slightly, glancing down at it before meeting his gaze again. He breathed slowly, the smallest spike of fear slipping out past his stoic mask. "I don't know if I want to."

"You don't have to." I went to close my fingers around the hilt, it was snatched from my grasp, the young man's curiosity winning him over.

To my surprise, he didn't immediately ignite it. Instead, he turned it over in his hands, examining the engravings closely. "Aliit ori'shya tal'din," he read in a mutter, his thumb brushing past the carved metal. "Dad used to say that."

"And many Mandalorians before him," I smiled back.

Boba thumbed the ignition, the white blade igniting with a warbled hiss. His eyes widened as he beheld it, sliding from his chair to swish it experimentally through the air. I chuckled at him as he got more confident, slicing it through the air with more force.

"Careful," I laughed, watching him spin and nearly cut his own chair in half. When he kept going, nearly touching the blade against a panel on the wall, I reached out on instinct. My fingers stretched out, my mind slotting into that comfortable place that let me access the Force. It wrapped around the blade easily, ripping it from Boba's hands and making the hilt meet my palm. Boba stared at me with a dropped jaw. "I said to be careful," I offered as an explanation, tucking the weapon back into its pouch.

He continued to stare from where he stood before surprising me with, "I think Dad knew."

It was my turn to gape. "What? How? Why do you say that?"

"I don't know anything for sure," Boba warned at my onslaught of questions, slowly finding his seat again. "But he was always mentioning how there was something different about you. Something special. He used to tell me about how you just knew things, and that if I was ever in trouble, that I was to trust your instincts over my own."

"He…told you that?"

Boba nodded. "He said your instincts were always right. That you had a gift." He laughed now, the tension fully leaving his body as he slouched back into his seat. "Clearly he was right, even if he didn't fully know what it was." I hummed, glancing at my hands. "I'm not as surprised as I'd thought I'd be," he said after a moment of silence. I looked up at him, but didn't answer. "Not that I ever thought you'd tell me this," he laughed, "but for some reason, it makes sense. It kind of feels like I've always known, but now there's a name for it. Does that make sense?"

I smiled genuinely. "Yes, I actually do," I answered, remembering what it was like to learn about the Force. It was strange and new, yet it felt familiar and right. "Thank you for not being weird about it."

Boba shrugged, turning back to his unfinished sandwich. "I think your being with the clone was a harder pill to swallow."

"Why do you hate the clones?"

"They're lesser–"

"None of that," I cut him off with a hard tone. "Also, di'kut, you're a clone."

Boba exploded out of his chair, yelling, "I'm not a clone!"

I didn't react, watching him closely as I slowly chewed my food. "Yes, you are," I half-laughed. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. Jango was proud of you and so am I."

He looked away, angry despite my words. "I'm not like them."

"No, but nor are you just like me." He looked back at that, his eyes shocking me with brimming tears. "They might have some differences, but they come from the same source as you. You have more family than you think."

Boba stared at the sandwich in his hands. "I don't think they'd like me much."

I actually laughed. "You certainly didn't lead on the best foot, but neither did I. And they don't all need to love you. But I know a few who may be willing to meet you one day."

Boba hummed, but I could feel the warmth from him. He didn't hate the idea and that's all that mattered to me. My console beeped, signaling that we were approaching Tatooine and the hyperspace engine was disengaging.

I smiled at my brother, who looked suddenly nervous. "So," I chuckled, taking back the controls as we dropped out of hyperspace, the giant orange planet looming before us. "Let's get your new bounty hunter career set up."

Boba's grin was wide, his eyes bright. For a moment, I didn't see the young man he'd grown into. Instead, I saw the disheveled little boy with messy hair, eyes reflecting the bright lights of the cloning facility. I held that image and tucked it away in my mind to keep forever before turning back to the control, guiding us down towards the surface.

MANDO'A

Osik– shit

Ka'ra– stars; ruling council of fallen kings (ancient Mando myth)

Shebs– ass

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Boom. Still here. Still chugging. Feeling ~inspired~ lately.

Hope you enjoy! As always, reviews are welcome:)

-Ryder