Chapter 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Annbri scrambled along the ventilation shaft, ignoring the dirt on her gray smock. She peered through the grate at the end of the shaft, searching for her friend Thwirt. Thwirt was a young Ewok and Annbri's best friend since childhood. Annbri had not left the ship since her arrival on the Marauder's Revenge, nineteen years ago, and Thwirt had been her only companion these long years. They had met in the broom closet for quite some time now, though creeping in using the ventilation shaft was becoming increasingly difficult for the much larger human. Thwirt was there, as usual, sitting on a mop.

"Greetings? You are not early." Thwirt looked worried.

"No, I'm not," said Annbri with a grin, "But I never am." She gave her friend a sidelong glance as she slipped out of the grate. "What's wrong?"

"Master saying bad things. Master says Annbri needs to talk with him. Master says other master of Annbri is dead."

"What other master?" Annbri asked, trying to sound incredulous. Bad things happened to slaves when their masters died.

"Jungle Fed. Master says other master is Jungle Fed."

"He was fed in a jungle?"

"No, Jungle Fed is name of master."

"That's ridiculous. This Jungle guy is just made up. My master is Eiben Stellar, whether I like it or not. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

"Thwirt wishes he could be sure like Annbri."

"Really, Thwirt, I'll be okay." Annbri glanced at the ventilation shaft. "Is there anything else? I really do have to polish Master Stellar's armor."

"Not other words. Annbri will be careful?"

"Yes," Annbri gave her friend a reassuring smile, then dove back into the shaft, not looking back to see Twirt disappear down another. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How can it have been that we did not know of Fett's death before now?" roared Stellar, pacing the Grand Audience Chamber.

Ilikar Grantuk, the unlucky messenger, cowered before the enraged slaver. "Dekenbri is far away from Geonosis, Sir Stellar, and Fett had been out of the mainstream for so long that his absence was not quickly noticed by authorities..." Grantuk fell silent as the slaver turned on him.

"We shall have to undo your little mistake won't we?" Stellar's voice was low and deadly.

Grantuk could only nod fearfully as Eiben Stellar motioned for a nearby guard. The slaver gave some concise orders in an undertone that sent the guard striding for the exit. Considerably calmer, Stellar perched on his chair in the center of the room, cold eyes calculating.

It was only a matter of minutes until the guard returned, accompanied by a confused slave girl. Eiben Stellar rose from his chair and paced once more, speaking to the girl.

"A long time ago, I owed a debt to a bounty hunter named Jango Fett, perhaps you've heard of him? Well, Jango called this debt due nineteen years ago, when he brought me a baby girl to watch over until he returned for her. I was to raise her as one of my slaves, but never to sell her. Do you know who that little girl is?"

The slave girl stared, wide-eyed and fearful. "Me?"

"Yes," Eiben Stellar grinned, "But now Fett is dead, and there's no one stopping me from selling you anymore.." The slaver circled the girl, appraising her with a practiced eye. "You'd fetch a good price, you know. Jango certainly did me a service. I'm going to contact Jeniru the Hutt; he's always on the lookout for new dancing girls. Dear me, he does seem to go through them quickly." As Stellar punched a code into his com adaptor, the slave girl glanced fearfully around the room. She knew she would not live long in a Hutt's clutches.

A slug-like form appeared in front of Stellar, a hologram of Jeniru the Hutt. When it spoke, even its voice seemed overweight. "Eiben Stellar, what a pleasant surprise...to what do I owe this visit?"

"Greetings Jeniru, I am honored to speak to you once more." Stellar's voice was oily. "I have found a new dancing girl for you, Milord, should you find her to your liking."

"Another? Good..." the Hutt's head swiveled, searching for the slave girl in his holoscreen. Suddenly, the hologram of the Hutt flickered, then vanished. The room was silent for one nanosecond.

"Guards!" Barked Stellar, his voice strained and panicky. Fifteen or so black-uniformed men were at his side in a moment, but too late. Eiben Stellar collapsed in his chair, a poisonous dart embedded just below his eye. As his vision blurred, an armor-clad man grabbed the slave girl's arm.

"Eiben Stellar, never forget that it is hard to kill a Fett. I have come to claim what is mine, and by the looks of things, I'm just in time."

"Jango Fett?" groaned Stellar as blaster fire ricocheted off the walls and ceiling, Fett's helmet the last thing the slaver would ever see. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Annbri didn't say a word until they were safely inside the armored man's ship, Slave I, but as the shock wore off, a dozen questions sprang to mind. "Who are you? Aren't you supposed to be dead? Where are you taking me? Why did you do that?"

Fett's voice was expressionless. "I am Boba Fett, son of Jango Fett. I am not supposed to be dead. I took you back because I do not enjoy losing valuable property."

"Property! I'm not free now?"

"Why would I free you?"

"Because you rescued me, and-and that's what you're supposed to do!"

"It's not what I'm going to do. Follow me." Boba Fett led Annbri to a set of cages built into his ship. "This is where you will live for the duration of the trip."

Annbri was indignant. "You might as well have left me with Stellar!"

"That would not have been profitable. Get in."

Knowing better than to argue with the man who had just broken into the Marauder's Revenge, Annbri sighed and stepped into the cage.

Once inside she flopped down on the stiff cot, completely ignoring Fett. She did not see him linger outside her cell, shake his head, then retreat to his own quarters. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Boba Fett was unused to feelings. Over the twelve years since his father's death, he had gotten quite good at masking them, both inwardly and outwardly. Why, after all these years, should he start feeling again?

Boba prided himself in his indifference. When a bounty hunter had too much compassion, he was ruined. What made Boba Fett famous were his amazing captures, which he could not have accomplished if he had felt mercy. The reason he had "rescued" Annbri was not for her own comfort, but for the continuation of his father's search for her relatives who would surely pay a great sum for her return. Jango had died before his search had gotten very far, but Boba was determined not to fail.

The only problem with this mission was feelings. The twenty-five- year-old Boba could had not been able to help noticing Annbri's slender figure, nor her striking lake-blue eyes. His heart was still untouched, but for how long would it remain so?

As Boba lay on his back in his small private quarters on board Slave I, a picture of that slim, dark-haired slave came to mind. She must be from the same planet as his father, Jango, had been, for their skin was the same caramel-brown. Boba looked at his reflection in his Mandalorian armor, now stowed beside his sleeping pallet, and saw his uncertain brown eyes staring back at himself. That was the most noticeable difference between the two of them, aside from gender: the colors of their eyes.

Boba remembered a trip once when he and his father had flown to Alderaan, the jewel of the galaxy. Though they weren't on a sight-seeing mission, Jango had pointed out a clear, deep blue lake to young Boba, and that water was reflected in the slave girl's eyes. Boba wondered whether it was himself or Annbri who were more different from their unknown families. On Jango's home planet, was it normal for eyes to be blue, or brown?

Boba turned over on the pallet, closing his eyes. With practiced ease, he pushed his emotions back down inside--where they belonged. The last thing he needed was to think about this slave as a person. She was just, Boba reminded himself, "hard merchandise." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~