Chapter 5
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the first time in her life, Annbri could not sleep. She tossed and
turned in her bed at the Royal Henber Hotel, where she and Boba had booked
a room under the guises of Ghenris and Annbri Phendol. Finally extricating
her legs from the tangled sheets, she stumbled through the dark, unfamiliar
room to the balcony, a bubble that protruded from the room into
nothingness. As her feet passed over the transparent floor of the balcony,
she glanced down, then shuddered; six-hundred-or-so feet below, the lights
of Shanwhir whirled dizzyingly. Shaking the disconcerting thought from her
mind, she settled onto the small couch, the only piece of furniture on the
bulbous balcony. She basked in the silver moonlight as her thoughts turned
inevitably to the sleeping bounty hunter, who lay immobile on a couch near
the door.
Annbri glanced over her shoulder, her gaze following the shaft of moonlight to Boba Fett's blaster rifle, laid across the bounty hunter's chest where it was easily accessible, gleaming wickedly. Strange, Annbri thought, that something as peaceful as moonlight can seem so different on that weapon.
Her eyes traveled past the rifle, to Fett's face, half-shadowed, and calm with sleep...or was it? Did Boba Fett ever sleep? Such a mortal weakness seemed beneath the legendary bounty hunter, and yet...Annbri remembered with a smile the way he had laid his hand on hers. Of course, she reminded herself, he had been acting. It was all part of the ruse, but Annbri almost wished it hadn't been.
"Annbri!" she scolded herself in a whisper. She quickly banished the half- formed wish. Boba Fett was a cold killer, not capable, nor worthy, of affection.
She let her eyes wander from the sleeping man within the room to the towering palace without. Earlier that day, shortly after they had arrived in Shanwhir, Boba had locked her in the hotel room and gone there, "on business," he had said. Annbri wondered if they kept family records at the palace, and felt hope rising within her. Boba Fett never failed, and he was going to find her family.
Of course, a nagging little thought at the back of her mind cautioned, he's not doing it for you. He will be rewarded for his pains.
Annbri had to admit it, the little thought was right. Boba Fett was a bounty hunter, not a philanthropist. He would not have started this job unless he thought he was going to profit from it.
With a sigh, Annbri turned her thoughts and her eyes to the rushing traffic below. I wonder if any of those speeders carry members of my family, she thought with a rueful smile. Wouldn't it be ironic, them being so close, and yet not knowing each other?
The nineteen-year-old stood and walked to the edge of the bubble, her reflection staring back. Annbri was surprised at how scared she looked, her strange blue eyes wide, her mouth slightly opened. Did all her family have those blue eyes? Annbri tried to imagine a mother and father, their dark brown hair, light brown skin, and smiling blue eyes welcoming her home. Turning away from the balcony, she headed back to bed, slowing as she passed Boba's couch. She gazed imploringly at her unconscious partner, whispering, "Please, Boba, you must find them."
When she had gone, Boba opened his eyes, propped himself up slightly on his elbow, and watched the girl, still so young to be in so much turmoil, fall asleep. Though he did not know it, it was then that he decided that the reward credits were not the only reason he must convince the Royal Council of Annbri's true identity. And though he did not yet know it, convincing them would cause him much pain. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Commander Kyjark was looking over possible future battle plans in his private suite when his personal droid trundled over to him. "Commander, there is someone here to see you." Kyjark rubbed his temples lightly and stared forlornly at the droid. "Who?" he sighed.
"He would not tell me his name."
"I'll be right out."
As the droid went out to tell the stranger, Kyjark strapped his blaster onto his hip. He didn't feel like meeting anyone right now, let alone a possibly hostile stranger. The plans were quickly stowed in a password- protected datapad, then the reluctant Commander strode quickly towards his receiving chamber.
As soon as he walked into the chamber, he was glad he had brought his blaster. A Trandoshan bounty hunter, whom Kyjark recognized as the very successful Bossk, was standing in the middle of the room. Kyjark had never liked Trandoshans, known for their vicious cannibalism, but the appearance of this particular one was intriguing. "Sit down," he offered, though his voice was not friendly.
"No. I want to stand. I will not be long." Bossk's voice was equally cold.
"Very well," Kyjark replied, positioning himself in his own, higher chair, "what brings you here?"
"I have come to offer my services-for a fee, of course. It seems you are having little luck finding the Nondiran Files."
Kyjark stiffened. "How did you find out about the Files?"
Bossk didn't move. "Word gets around, if you ask the right people."
The Commander knew that the bounty hunter wasn't "offering his services," he was forcing Kyjark to hire him. If he was not hired, Bossk would tell others about the files, and make the already difficult task of locating them almost impossible. And, Kyjark reasoned, a bounty hunter might be just the thing we need, if we can afford the fee. Of course, if he was successful in this case, the fee would be a tiny portion of the wealth the Nondiran Files would provide. "All right," he said coolly, "it's your job. However, Bossk, don't forget that you might not be the only hunter looking for them. Don't delay."
"Of course," Bossk smiled; it was a horrible Trandoshan smile.
As the bounty hunter left the room, Kyjark almost smiled. There were no other bounty hunters on the case-yet, but Bossk had given him an idea. Whatever had happened to Boba Fett lately, anyway? He had to find out!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kelrin and Senaver stood in the entrance to the Van Dessel Tomb, the Freeflight. Soon after the massacre, the Twelve Ruling Houses had modified the ship to be a fitting memorial to the murdered family. After logging their names in the guestbook, their identity was checked before the museum's doors were opened to admit the visitors. There was a hologram of each dead Van Dessel standing where they had fallen, though the actual bodies were located elsewhere. A voice recording by each hologram explained all about the person.
"I'll wait here," Senaver promised his friend as the doors opened.
Kelrin didn't answer, his mind already occupied with what was within the room.
Eerie blue holograms of his family floated above their transmitters like the ghosts they represented. It was a chilling sight, especially to the young padawan who now found himself in their midst. He did not hear the doors close behind him, allowing him isolation to grieve.
Kelrin passed from cousin to aunt to brother, each sentence of their stories washing over him like a wave threatening to drag him under. He slowly made his way around the room, peering into the faces of each Van Dessel, looking for family resemblance. When he came to Shenaroh Van Dessel, his father, paused for a full half-hour, unable to speak for grief.
Branober's trail of killing encircled the room, ending with Othenderto and Anmei: the last to die.
Othenderto had been his grandfather on his mother's side, and had borne the responsibility of Patriarch very seriously. Kelrin knew how horrific it must have been for the kindly old man to watch his children and grandchildren die, but all the Van Dessels had known, since birth, that each one could be called on to give their life for the safety of the Nondiran Files. [i]Or in this case[/i], Kelrin thought bitterly, [i]all of them.[/i]
Anmei had been Matriarch for only a short while, her mother having just passed the title and responsibility on to her two years before her death. Though the body of Kelrin's grandmother, Ulaia, had lain across the room from her daughter, Anmei and Ulaia had been very close. When Anmei's first child, a son named Kelrin, had been born, and born with Jedi powers, Ulaia had rejoiced along with her daughter, but they had kept it a secret until that fateful day when Kelrin had been jettisoned in an escape pod soon after the beginning of the attack. Kelrin had been found by a Jedi scout soon after his landing on Dantooine, and had been raised and trained by the Jedi order.
But this did not matter to Kelrin as he stared into his mother's hologram face. He did not even listen to her story; he knew it already. Finally allowing his walls to crumble, he fell to his knees in front of her memorial. "Mom," he gasped, for the first time in his life, "you saved my life...thank you."
Some time later, the padawan awoke before his mother's grave. His grief had dulled to a deep ache, but no longer brought tears to his eyes. He stood, chest out, chin held high. Kelrin Van Dessel would make his family proud of him. Slipping a hand beneath his padawan's uniform, he withdrew his ancestral amulet. "The only thing I can offer your spirit," the padawan murmured, arranging it at the hologram's feet. Then he stood, turned his back on the ghosts, and headed for the door.
Just before he pressed the exit button, his eye caught on a notice board:
Two Van Dessels are thought to have escaped the massacre, Kelrin and Danja, both offspring of Shenaroh and Matriarch Anmei. Kelrin is a Jedi Padawan, and Danja has not yet been heard of. She would now be nineteen, but hope for her life is fading.
"No it's not, Danja. I'm still searching." Kelrin pressed the button and exited the tomb, finally at peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boba rose early the next morning. Not wanting to wake Annbri, he headed for the restaurant to get some breakfast. A waiter droid accosted him as he entered the lushly-upholstered room. "Follow me, sir."
The tables were situated in bubbles that hung below the restaurant, which jutted from the hotel like a balcony. Indeed, the top of the restaurant was a balcony-like landing pad for visitors. The bubbles hung at different distances from the restaurant, connected by a tube through which an anti-grav energy cylinder transported diners to and from their tables. For the guests that were afraid of heights, there were non- transparent bubbles within the restaurant, instead of below, the walls of which could be changed in an instant to set the mood.
Boba's mood, however, was far from enjoyment. Yesterday, he had found that the soonest an audience could be booked was a standard week away. He had a full seven days to waste on Henber. [i]Or,[/i] he thought exasperatedly, [i]seven days to keep Annbri out of mischief and in the dark.[/i]
The droid stiffly led Fett to a circular door, about four feet in diameter, in the floor, where he paused to ask "You're not afraid of heights, are you, Sir?"
Boba tried not to laugh. "No."
"That's very good, Sir." The droid pushed a button on it's left forearm. Immediately, the door retracted into the floor, and a disk, slightly smaller than the door, was floating there.
Boba stepped onto it, and energy walls sprang up around him, protecting him from the walls of the tube as it plunged downward. Luckily, Boba Found, his feet were temporarily bonded to the disk, to prevent him from hitting the energy "ceiling."
When the disk landed in his dining bubble, less than a second later, the energy walls retracted, and allowed him to step off the disk. As soon as his weight left it, the disk shot back up to its post above him.
There were two seats, cushions suspended in midair, by a round, levitating table. Boba sat on one to study the menu, which popped up in the middle of the table, a two-sided holoscreen. After sifting through many exotic dishes with long names, he found something a little more normal: cinnamon rolls. Boba punched his order number in on the touchscreen, and in five minutes was staring at a platter of a dozen or so. With a shrug, he selected one and began to break his fast.
The boring buisness of ordering over with, the bounty hunter allowed his mind to wander. [i]Dad wouldn't have called this a breakfast, [/i] he thought, [i]He would have told me to eat a yanshen fruit or something, with Bantha milk. [i] The twenty-two-year-old shuddered. He had always hated Bantha milk. [i]Dad always said that dislike would be a weakness,[i] Boba bowed his head momentarily, remembering Jango's tirade, [i]he said that all an adversary had to do was ask me to drink that stuff, to gain the upper hand. But now he's dead, and I cannot prove otherwise to him.[/i] It had been a joke, of course, but a weakness was a weakness.
The cinnamon bun lay forgotten on his plate as he contemplated his father's demise. [i]Dad died before I could prove[/i] [b]anything[/b][/i] to him. He never saw me follow in his footsteps. He never saw my list of successful captures, which rival his! He left me, an orphan, alone, and even...a little...afraid.[/i] Boba Fett banged his fist on the table, rattling the dishes. [b][i]How dare he?[/b] I was only ten! We didn't even need to be on Geonosis anymore. We'd held up our part of the bargain as best we could, hadn't we? We didn't need to watch those executions, and we didn't need to be there when those Jedi showed up to knock his head off![/i] Boba remembered bitterly the first time he had seen a Jedi, one called Obi-Wan Kenobi, a nosy pest who wouldn't die, despite Jango's best efforts. 'Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi,' Jango had said. How ironic it was that that Jedi would lead to his doom, at the hands of another Jedi.
[i]They claim they are peacekeepers. Ha. They brought no peace to my life. Dad and I were fine until they intervened. So what if this Naboo senator was on our hit list? It was Dad's [b]job[/b]. And then they discovered their clone army...[/i] Boba let the thought trail off, as he had thousands of times before when the memories returned to haunt him. No amount of feelingless killing could his heart from that sword. Boba Fett had tried his whole life to be worthy of Jango, to make "Dad" proud of him. And then Jango had deserted him on a remote planet, a child grieving over a Mandalorian helmet. The ten-year-old in him would not let the twenty-two- year-old forget the deadly swing of that purple blade. Someday, he would have his revenge.
Boba suddenly realized he was gripping the edge of the cushion tightly, and he glanced down...and down...and down. Now he understood why he had been asked whether he was afraid of heights. He was dizzyingly suspended above a thriving city, through which traffic flowed like a shining silver river of speeders. The Henberans were going about their daily business, and it was time for Boba Fett to be about his.
His appetite lost in memory, he pushed the plate away, downed his coffee, and reached for the disk summoner. He would go back up and see if Annbri had awoken. [i]Annbri.[/i] He remembered her suddenly, and glanced at the platter of cinnamon rolls. She would be hungry, and he wasn't relishing the thought of another trip to the restaurant this morning. He grabbed a few of the rolls and tucked them in a napkin, then proceeded up to the hotel room to check on the late riser. As he traveled, he wondered what he was going to do with her to keep her busy. [i]A week![/i] he groaned inwardly, [i]why so long?[i] But it could not be helped, he would just have to take her sight-seeing or something. Another groan. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annbri glanced over her shoulder, her gaze following the shaft of moonlight to Boba Fett's blaster rifle, laid across the bounty hunter's chest where it was easily accessible, gleaming wickedly. Strange, Annbri thought, that something as peaceful as moonlight can seem so different on that weapon.
Her eyes traveled past the rifle, to Fett's face, half-shadowed, and calm with sleep...or was it? Did Boba Fett ever sleep? Such a mortal weakness seemed beneath the legendary bounty hunter, and yet...Annbri remembered with a smile the way he had laid his hand on hers. Of course, she reminded herself, he had been acting. It was all part of the ruse, but Annbri almost wished it hadn't been.
"Annbri!" she scolded herself in a whisper. She quickly banished the half- formed wish. Boba Fett was a cold killer, not capable, nor worthy, of affection.
She let her eyes wander from the sleeping man within the room to the towering palace without. Earlier that day, shortly after they had arrived in Shanwhir, Boba had locked her in the hotel room and gone there, "on business," he had said. Annbri wondered if they kept family records at the palace, and felt hope rising within her. Boba Fett never failed, and he was going to find her family.
Of course, a nagging little thought at the back of her mind cautioned, he's not doing it for you. He will be rewarded for his pains.
Annbri had to admit it, the little thought was right. Boba Fett was a bounty hunter, not a philanthropist. He would not have started this job unless he thought he was going to profit from it.
With a sigh, Annbri turned her thoughts and her eyes to the rushing traffic below. I wonder if any of those speeders carry members of my family, she thought with a rueful smile. Wouldn't it be ironic, them being so close, and yet not knowing each other?
The nineteen-year-old stood and walked to the edge of the bubble, her reflection staring back. Annbri was surprised at how scared she looked, her strange blue eyes wide, her mouth slightly opened. Did all her family have those blue eyes? Annbri tried to imagine a mother and father, their dark brown hair, light brown skin, and smiling blue eyes welcoming her home. Turning away from the balcony, she headed back to bed, slowing as she passed Boba's couch. She gazed imploringly at her unconscious partner, whispering, "Please, Boba, you must find them."
When she had gone, Boba opened his eyes, propped himself up slightly on his elbow, and watched the girl, still so young to be in so much turmoil, fall asleep. Though he did not know it, it was then that he decided that the reward credits were not the only reason he must convince the Royal Council of Annbri's true identity. And though he did not yet know it, convincing them would cause him much pain. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Commander Kyjark was looking over possible future battle plans in his private suite when his personal droid trundled over to him. "Commander, there is someone here to see you." Kyjark rubbed his temples lightly and stared forlornly at the droid. "Who?" he sighed.
"He would not tell me his name."
"I'll be right out."
As the droid went out to tell the stranger, Kyjark strapped his blaster onto his hip. He didn't feel like meeting anyone right now, let alone a possibly hostile stranger. The plans were quickly stowed in a password- protected datapad, then the reluctant Commander strode quickly towards his receiving chamber.
As soon as he walked into the chamber, he was glad he had brought his blaster. A Trandoshan bounty hunter, whom Kyjark recognized as the very successful Bossk, was standing in the middle of the room. Kyjark had never liked Trandoshans, known for their vicious cannibalism, but the appearance of this particular one was intriguing. "Sit down," he offered, though his voice was not friendly.
"No. I want to stand. I will not be long." Bossk's voice was equally cold.
"Very well," Kyjark replied, positioning himself in his own, higher chair, "what brings you here?"
"I have come to offer my services-for a fee, of course. It seems you are having little luck finding the Nondiran Files."
Kyjark stiffened. "How did you find out about the Files?"
Bossk didn't move. "Word gets around, if you ask the right people."
The Commander knew that the bounty hunter wasn't "offering his services," he was forcing Kyjark to hire him. If he was not hired, Bossk would tell others about the files, and make the already difficult task of locating them almost impossible. And, Kyjark reasoned, a bounty hunter might be just the thing we need, if we can afford the fee. Of course, if he was successful in this case, the fee would be a tiny portion of the wealth the Nondiran Files would provide. "All right," he said coolly, "it's your job. However, Bossk, don't forget that you might not be the only hunter looking for them. Don't delay."
"Of course," Bossk smiled; it was a horrible Trandoshan smile.
As the bounty hunter left the room, Kyjark almost smiled. There were no other bounty hunters on the case-yet, but Bossk had given him an idea. Whatever had happened to Boba Fett lately, anyway? He had to find out!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Kelrin and Senaver stood in the entrance to the Van Dessel Tomb, the Freeflight. Soon after the massacre, the Twelve Ruling Houses had modified the ship to be a fitting memorial to the murdered family. After logging their names in the guestbook, their identity was checked before the museum's doors were opened to admit the visitors. There was a hologram of each dead Van Dessel standing where they had fallen, though the actual bodies were located elsewhere. A voice recording by each hologram explained all about the person.
"I'll wait here," Senaver promised his friend as the doors opened.
Kelrin didn't answer, his mind already occupied with what was within the room.
Eerie blue holograms of his family floated above their transmitters like the ghosts they represented. It was a chilling sight, especially to the young padawan who now found himself in their midst. He did not hear the doors close behind him, allowing him isolation to grieve.
Kelrin passed from cousin to aunt to brother, each sentence of their stories washing over him like a wave threatening to drag him under. He slowly made his way around the room, peering into the faces of each Van Dessel, looking for family resemblance. When he came to Shenaroh Van Dessel, his father, paused for a full half-hour, unable to speak for grief.
Branober's trail of killing encircled the room, ending with Othenderto and Anmei: the last to die.
Othenderto had been his grandfather on his mother's side, and had borne the responsibility of Patriarch very seriously. Kelrin knew how horrific it must have been for the kindly old man to watch his children and grandchildren die, but all the Van Dessels had known, since birth, that each one could be called on to give their life for the safety of the Nondiran Files. [i]Or in this case[/i], Kelrin thought bitterly, [i]all of them.[/i]
Anmei had been Matriarch for only a short while, her mother having just passed the title and responsibility on to her two years before her death. Though the body of Kelrin's grandmother, Ulaia, had lain across the room from her daughter, Anmei and Ulaia had been very close. When Anmei's first child, a son named Kelrin, had been born, and born with Jedi powers, Ulaia had rejoiced along with her daughter, but they had kept it a secret until that fateful day when Kelrin had been jettisoned in an escape pod soon after the beginning of the attack. Kelrin had been found by a Jedi scout soon after his landing on Dantooine, and had been raised and trained by the Jedi order.
But this did not matter to Kelrin as he stared into his mother's hologram face. He did not even listen to her story; he knew it already. Finally allowing his walls to crumble, he fell to his knees in front of her memorial. "Mom," he gasped, for the first time in his life, "you saved my life...thank you."
Some time later, the padawan awoke before his mother's grave. His grief had dulled to a deep ache, but no longer brought tears to his eyes. He stood, chest out, chin held high. Kelrin Van Dessel would make his family proud of him. Slipping a hand beneath his padawan's uniform, he withdrew his ancestral amulet. "The only thing I can offer your spirit," the padawan murmured, arranging it at the hologram's feet. Then he stood, turned his back on the ghosts, and headed for the door.
Just before he pressed the exit button, his eye caught on a notice board:
Two Van Dessels are thought to have escaped the massacre, Kelrin and Danja, both offspring of Shenaroh and Matriarch Anmei. Kelrin is a Jedi Padawan, and Danja has not yet been heard of. She would now be nineteen, but hope for her life is fading.
"No it's not, Danja. I'm still searching." Kelrin pressed the button and exited the tomb, finally at peace.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boba rose early the next morning. Not wanting to wake Annbri, he headed for the restaurant to get some breakfast. A waiter droid accosted him as he entered the lushly-upholstered room. "Follow me, sir."
The tables were situated in bubbles that hung below the restaurant, which jutted from the hotel like a balcony. Indeed, the top of the restaurant was a balcony-like landing pad for visitors. The bubbles hung at different distances from the restaurant, connected by a tube through which an anti-grav energy cylinder transported diners to and from their tables. For the guests that were afraid of heights, there were non- transparent bubbles within the restaurant, instead of below, the walls of which could be changed in an instant to set the mood.
Boba's mood, however, was far from enjoyment. Yesterday, he had found that the soonest an audience could be booked was a standard week away. He had a full seven days to waste on Henber. [i]Or,[/i] he thought exasperatedly, [i]seven days to keep Annbri out of mischief and in the dark.[/i]
The droid stiffly led Fett to a circular door, about four feet in diameter, in the floor, where he paused to ask "You're not afraid of heights, are you, Sir?"
Boba tried not to laugh. "No."
"That's very good, Sir." The droid pushed a button on it's left forearm. Immediately, the door retracted into the floor, and a disk, slightly smaller than the door, was floating there.
Boba stepped onto it, and energy walls sprang up around him, protecting him from the walls of the tube as it plunged downward. Luckily, Boba Found, his feet were temporarily bonded to the disk, to prevent him from hitting the energy "ceiling."
When the disk landed in his dining bubble, less than a second later, the energy walls retracted, and allowed him to step off the disk. As soon as his weight left it, the disk shot back up to its post above him.
There were two seats, cushions suspended in midair, by a round, levitating table. Boba sat on one to study the menu, which popped up in the middle of the table, a two-sided holoscreen. After sifting through many exotic dishes with long names, he found something a little more normal: cinnamon rolls. Boba punched his order number in on the touchscreen, and in five minutes was staring at a platter of a dozen or so. With a shrug, he selected one and began to break his fast.
The boring buisness of ordering over with, the bounty hunter allowed his mind to wander. [i]Dad wouldn't have called this a breakfast, [/i] he thought, [i]He would have told me to eat a yanshen fruit or something, with Bantha milk. [i] The twenty-two-year-old shuddered. He had always hated Bantha milk. [i]Dad always said that dislike would be a weakness,[i] Boba bowed his head momentarily, remembering Jango's tirade, [i]he said that all an adversary had to do was ask me to drink that stuff, to gain the upper hand. But now he's dead, and I cannot prove otherwise to him.[/i] It had been a joke, of course, but a weakness was a weakness.
The cinnamon bun lay forgotten on his plate as he contemplated his father's demise. [i]Dad died before I could prove[/i] [b]anything[/b][/i] to him. He never saw me follow in his footsteps. He never saw my list of successful captures, which rival his! He left me, an orphan, alone, and even...a little...afraid.[/i] Boba Fett banged his fist on the table, rattling the dishes. [b][i]How dare he?[/b] I was only ten! We didn't even need to be on Geonosis anymore. We'd held up our part of the bargain as best we could, hadn't we? We didn't need to watch those executions, and we didn't need to be there when those Jedi showed up to knock his head off![/i] Boba remembered bitterly the first time he had seen a Jedi, one called Obi-Wan Kenobi, a nosy pest who wouldn't die, despite Jango's best efforts. 'Always a pleasure to meet a Jedi,' Jango had said. How ironic it was that that Jedi would lead to his doom, at the hands of another Jedi.
[i]They claim they are peacekeepers. Ha. They brought no peace to my life. Dad and I were fine until they intervened. So what if this Naboo senator was on our hit list? It was Dad's [b]job[/b]. And then they discovered their clone army...[/i] Boba let the thought trail off, as he had thousands of times before when the memories returned to haunt him. No amount of feelingless killing could his heart from that sword. Boba Fett had tried his whole life to be worthy of Jango, to make "Dad" proud of him. And then Jango had deserted him on a remote planet, a child grieving over a Mandalorian helmet. The ten-year-old in him would not let the twenty-two- year-old forget the deadly swing of that purple blade. Someday, he would have his revenge.
Boba suddenly realized he was gripping the edge of the cushion tightly, and he glanced down...and down...and down. Now he understood why he had been asked whether he was afraid of heights. He was dizzyingly suspended above a thriving city, through which traffic flowed like a shining silver river of speeders. The Henberans were going about their daily business, and it was time for Boba Fett to be about his.
His appetite lost in memory, he pushed the plate away, downed his coffee, and reached for the disk summoner. He would go back up and see if Annbri had awoken. [i]Annbri.[/i] He remembered her suddenly, and glanced at the platter of cinnamon rolls. She would be hungry, and he wasn't relishing the thought of another trip to the restaurant this morning. He grabbed a few of the rolls and tucked them in a napkin, then proceeded up to the hotel room to check on the late riser. As he traveled, he wondered what he was going to do with her to keep her busy. [i]A week![/i] he groaned inwardly, [i]why so long?[i] But it could not be helped, he would just have to take her sight-seeing or something. Another groan. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~