Boba rose early, his internal clock still confused by the time changes he
would become very accustomed to later in his life. He checked his chrono,
then shrugged and went out on the balcony. The rosy petals of dawn had
just begun to unfurl, and the first moon, Emia, had already sunk beneath
the horizon. It was going to be a very nice day, Boba observed, if all
went well.
That is, if he could get Annbri into the palace without arousing suspicion because of his identity; if he could get an early audience; if he could convince the Royal Council that Annbri was who he knew she was; and if they would pay him the reward that was sure to exist for a person like herself.
Too many if's.
Well, he might as well wake Annbri. She would need a lot of time to prepare herself today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So Boba Fett is on a very important job?" Kyjark frowned at B-10 and drummed his fingers on his desk.
"Only for another day or two, Sir," the droid added.
"I see. And after that he will be entirely available?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then tell him that I wish to speak to him personally as soon as this job of his is finished." Kyjrak dismissed the droid and turned back to his battle plans. Nothing was going correctly, and Branober was getting edgy. None of the mercenary scouts had returned with any information, and a complete search of the Freeflight had not turned up anything. Kyjark winced at the thought of the desecrated tomb. The only thing of any value found there had been a medallion of some sort. Branober believed that it had belonged to one of the Van Dessels, and he was having a Trathen, the official language of Henber, specialist come in to examine the runes on the amulet.
Kyjark remembered the ugly blaster holes in the shiny white durasteel. The walls had been searched and re-searched. Every crevice had been delved, every cushion torn up, every button pressed, and still no files had surfaced.
Kyjark read the old report of the massacre on the Freeflight once more, and noticed for the first time something he himself had said. "...an escape pod fired during takeover. Pod R788JQ..."
"Beeten!" Kyjark called sharply, "I have another holo to send!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annbri sat quietly in the waiting room while Boba talked in urgent but hushed tones to the palace clerk driod. Boba tried not to lose his temper completely, as he showed the droid his appointment slip and identification one last time. "Please, our case is kinda urgent..."
The clerk looked at Boba sharply over his visual enhancement lenses, Sir, everyone's case is urgent. You will wait your turn."
"And that is...?"
"Printed on the plast I gave you."
"But my chrono isn't set to Henberan time."
"There's a large chronometer over there you can use. Good day, Sir."
Boba slammed his fist down on the counter and turned back to Annbri. "It'll be a little while anyway, I think." He consulted the plast and the chronometer the clerk had indicated. "Yeah, we might as well go somewhere else to wait. If we leave the palace, we'll have to go back through security, and that takes forever, but there's supposed to be some nice gardens around here somewhere where visitors walk."
"Sounds good." Annbri stood up and accepted his arm. They were getting good at this charade. Pity it would be over so soon, Boba thought.
The gardens were found after a short time, and they proved to be everything Boba had heard. A maze of lush greenery, unique to Henber, wound round and round in miles of paths, dead ends, and cute little durasteel benches. As Boba and Annbri walked, they saw foreign diplomats in long sweeping robes of crimson and purple, the occasional fleeting glances of royal children, for which this section of the garden was forbidden, and many people like themselves, who sought the wisdom of the Royal Council of Twelve Houses.
And as they walked, the talked. Idly, at first, of the weather, the plants, whether they should go this way or that, and other ordinary things. But something was nagging at Boba's mind. Annbri spoke as if she would still be going back to that hotel tonight. She had no idea that if Boba was successful, these would be their last hours together. And suddenly, that was becoming much more important.
"Annbri?" Boba cut her off mid-sentence, and the tone of his voice made her stop walking and turn to face him.
"What?"
"Not here," Boba said quickly, glancing both ways along the large path they were sharing with several other beings. "In there." He led her into a smaller path in the hedge, which curled around like a snail's shell, ending with a small circular area just big enough to occupy a small bench, which it did. "Sit down," Boba directed Annbri, though he remained standing. He paced for a few more moments before speaking again. "There's something I need to tell you..." He stopped, faced her, and shook his head slowly. How was he to tell her that he had known all along? He sat down on the bench and searched her face. "I've...what I mean is...well, you see..." This wasn't working.
Annbri put her small hand on top of his own. "It's okay. Just tell me."
Boba nodded and met her even gaze, taking her hand in his. "I...." He never finished that sentence. Maybe it was their surroundings, maybe it was the fact that today she looked incredibly stunning, but Boba suddenly forgot everything; forgot the files, forgot the mission, forgot the fact that he was leaving her here on Henber today. He pulled her to him and kissed her.
Annbri was a little surprised at first, but certainly had no objections. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, allowing all her fear, doubt, and frustration to melt away as she thought of only one thing. Boba Fett.
Suddenly, Fett released her and pulled away. He stood up quickly and turned in a slow circle, running his hand through his short curly hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Sorry." Then he walked briskly back down the path.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fett's hands were clenched at his sides in twin fists. His strides long and purposeful, he was attempting to put as much distance as possible between Annbri and himself. It was no use. No matter how far he ranged, he could not get her out of his head. Finally, he found another bench and sat down. Good job, Fett, he told himself, what a smart thing to do. Kiss the long-lost princess of Henber just before you give her back to her family. You two can never be together. Get over it. You're leaving today, and she's staying here. You're a bounty hunter, by Mondore, not some kind of prince or something! Get a grip on yourself, Fett. Think of what Dad would say.
Boba winced at the thought of Jango, who had worked closely with Zam, but had dispached her without pause as soon as she threatened to reveal information. Oh yes, Jango had tried to hide that fact from his ten-year- old son, who had been very fond of Zam, but Boba had found out, and he had never truly forgiven his father, his idol, for killing her.
And then Jango had died. Boba remembered all too well cradling his father's empty helmet. Unable to bear retrieving the severed head, he had simply crouched, holding the helmet that he now wore. That helmet was the face the galaxy had known and feared as Jango Fett; and was already beginning to respect as Boba's visage. But Jango had been a fool. He had gotten too involved; taken sides. Boba would stay detached. He was no one's bodyguard; no one's fool. Jango had liked to make big explosions. An excellent marksman, he was nearly always successful, but there were some, like that cruel Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had been able to elude him because of Jango's dramatic tactics. Boba didn't take chances. "If it's still movin', keep shootin'," he said quietly, remembering what Zam had taught him long ago.
Zam had been the closest to a mother Boba could ever have hoped for. She would always bring some of her own mother's cinnamon rolls to Kamino when she came to work with Jango, and they had remained his favorite food, no matter how much Jango tried to convince him to eat his yanshen fruit. Zam had doted on Boba, while Jango had been fond, but stern. Jango had regulated Boba's diet strictly; Zam had smuggled in treats. Jango had pushed Boba to the edge of his endurance--and a little further--and Zam had picked him up when he was done. Jango had taught Boba how to be a galaxy- wide feared bounty hunter, but Zam had taught him about the code of honor that even his father had respected and held to. As a result, Boba never killed unecessarily and didn't always lend his services strictly to the highest bidder. There was something in his mind that had snapped when he lost both parent figures within a few days of each other. He had vowed never to cause that kind of pain to another child without adequate reason.
The chrono on the side of the massive wall that towered at the edge of the gardens began tolling the hour, and Boba remembered suddenly that he and Annbri had an audience to be at. He checked the plast against the chrono, and decided that they had only a few time units. Hastily, he sprang up and headed back the way he had come. He found Annbri quickly; she had not left the bench where he had left her, and without speaking a word, he gestured for her to come with him. She would not meet his gaze, but followed right behind him. She did not try to take his arm, nor did he offer it.
Soon they found themselves back in the waiting room at the palace. Boba went up to the clerk droid and found that they were next to go in. They did not speak as they waited, and when the droid called for Ghrenris and Annbri Phendol, Boba followed the clerk into the audience chamber, Annbri trailing behind.
As soon as they entered the Grand Audience Chamber, Annbri felt as though she had shrunk to the size of a Tatooine dust particle. The room, plated completely in gold-colored durasteel, reflected her scared face back at her from the floor, the walls, and the domed ceiling. She clasped her hands nervously in front of herself as she tried to keep from stepping closer to Boba for reassurance. The twenty four councilors, two from each of the twelve houses, sat in a half-circle at a raised gold durasteel table. Each councilor wore the colors of their house, and sat in order of the imporance of their house. The Martriarchs of each house sat on one side, and the Patriarchs on the other, with the highest house of Henber, house Van Denover, sitting in the middle of the semi-circle. There were two empty chairs opposite each other. In front of both of them read a plaque that said "Van Dessel." Annbri wondered briefly where the two Van Dessel councilors were, but soon found her thoughts otherwise occupied.
Annbri, Boba, and the clerk droid were standing in the middle the semicircle, the grave faces of the twenty-two royals regarding them silently.
"Case 98820CG82," the droid intoned, "Boba Fett, for security reasons known as Ghenris Phendol, claims that this girl is Danja Van Dessel." The droid turned and rolled away as the councilors consulted their datapads. And as Annbri gaped openly at Boba. She wanted to say something; to confront him about this...lie? But she could not talk to him now. She could only answer truthfully anything they might ask her.
Done looking over the case, the councilors directed their attention to the two people. The Van Denover Patriarch spoke first. "You," he pointed his stylus at Boba, "Are confirmed to be Boba Fett. Any relation to Jango Fett?"
Boba didn't change expressions. "I am his clone. He acted as my father."
"Your occupation?"
"Bounty hunter."
"Well, like father like clone, eh?" The old man chuckled at his own joke, and Annbri noticed the other, most of them younger, councilors shift restlessly in their seats. Clearly, they wanted to get this over with.
The Van Denover Matriarch broke in. "Mr. Fett, you state in your report that though you are aware that we are hearing no more cases regarding Danja Van Dessel, you have proof that you have found her, and simply had to have an audience. We have agreed to listen to you, but don't waste our time. Where is this proof?"
Boba stepped forward, an old commlink transmitter in his hand. He held it up for the councilors to see, then began to play the message recorded nineteen years before by Anmei Van Dessel. When it ended, with Anmei's last breath, there was silence for a few moments, then the Van Denover Matriarch spoke again. "And what was this girl's name?"
"Annbri." Boba stepped back, allowing Annbri to be better seen.
"She looks just like Anmei," the elderly Van Emytt Patriarch said quietly, and several of the older councilors nodded sadly.
"How old are you, girl?" one of the councilors wanted to know.
"About ninteen," Annbri managed. "They didn't know exactly when I was born."
"Who's they?"
Annbri glanced at Boba. How much was she supposed to tell? Fett, seeing her uncertainty, stepped back in. "She was a slave on Dekenbri for nineteen years. Her master was Jeniru the Hutt. I found her there and rescued her."
Annbri, deciding to play along, nodded. After all, if Boba hadn't come along, Jeniru would have been her master.
The councilors regarded their datapads for another few moments, then the Van Enkeme Patriarch rose. "Where did you find that recording?"
"It was among her personal effects on Dekenbri."
"I see," the patriarch nodded slowly. "I move we call for a DNA verification."
"I second the motion," said the Van Denover Matriarch, and the other councilors nodded their agreement.
Annbri looked wildly about herself as guards surrounded her, separating her from Boba, and taking her arms to escort her away. As she met Boba's eyes, she saw the pain-and the triumph-in his face. How could he? He had known all along that she was indeed the lost heir of the Van Dessel House. And he had not told her. She had found her family. She had lost him.
That is, if he could get Annbri into the palace without arousing suspicion because of his identity; if he could get an early audience; if he could convince the Royal Council that Annbri was who he knew she was; and if they would pay him the reward that was sure to exist for a person like herself.
Too many if's.
Well, he might as well wake Annbri. She would need a lot of time to prepare herself today.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"So Boba Fett is on a very important job?" Kyjark frowned at B-10 and drummed his fingers on his desk.
"Only for another day or two, Sir," the droid added.
"I see. And after that he will be entirely available?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then tell him that I wish to speak to him personally as soon as this job of his is finished." Kyjrak dismissed the droid and turned back to his battle plans. Nothing was going correctly, and Branober was getting edgy. None of the mercenary scouts had returned with any information, and a complete search of the Freeflight had not turned up anything. Kyjark winced at the thought of the desecrated tomb. The only thing of any value found there had been a medallion of some sort. Branober believed that it had belonged to one of the Van Dessels, and he was having a Trathen, the official language of Henber, specialist come in to examine the runes on the amulet.
Kyjark remembered the ugly blaster holes in the shiny white durasteel. The walls had been searched and re-searched. Every crevice had been delved, every cushion torn up, every button pressed, and still no files had surfaced.
Kyjark read the old report of the massacre on the Freeflight once more, and noticed for the first time something he himself had said. "...an escape pod fired during takeover. Pod R788JQ..."
"Beeten!" Kyjark called sharply, "I have another holo to send!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annbri sat quietly in the waiting room while Boba talked in urgent but hushed tones to the palace clerk driod. Boba tried not to lose his temper completely, as he showed the droid his appointment slip and identification one last time. "Please, our case is kinda urgent..."
The clerk looked at Boba sharply over his visual enhancement lenses, Sir, everyone's case is urgent. You will wait your turn."
"And that is...?"
"Printed on the plast I gave you."
"But my chrono isn't set to Henberan time."
"There's a large chronometer over there you can use. Good day, Sir."
Boba slammed his fist down on the counter and turned back to Annbri. "It'll be a little while anyway, I think." He consulted the plast and the chronometer the clerk had indicated. "Yeah, we might as well go somewhere else to wait. If we leave the palace, we'll have to go back through security, and that takes forever, but there's supposed to be some nice gardens around here somewhere where visitors walk."
"Sounds good." Annbri stood up and accepted his arm. They were getting good at this charade. Pity it would be over so soon, Boba thought.
The gardens were found after a short time, and they proved to be everything Boba had heard. A maze of lush greenery, unique to Henber, wound round and round in miles of paths, dead ends, and cute little durasteel benches. As Boba and Annbri walked, they saw foreign diplomats in long sweeping robes of crimson and purple, the occasional fleeting glances of royal children, for which this section of the garden was forbidden, and many people like themselves, who sought the wisdom of the Royal Council of Twelve Houses.
And as they walked, the talked. Idly, at first, of the weather, the plants, whether they should go this way or that, and other ordinary things. But something was nagging at Boba's mind. Annbri spoke as if she would still be going back to that hotel tonight. She had no idea that if Boba was successful, these would be their last hours together. And suddenly, that was becoming much more important.
"Annbri?" Boba cut her off mid-sentence, and the tone of his voice made her stop walking and turn to face him.
"What?"
"Not here," Boba said quickly, glancing both ways along the large path they were sharing with several other beings. "In there." He led her into a smaller path in the hedge, which curled around like a snail's shell, ending with a small circular area just big enough to occupy a small bench, which it did. "Sit down," Boba directed Annbri, though he remained standing. He paced for a few more moments before speaking again. "There's something I need to tell you..." He stopped, faced her, and shook his head slowly. How was he to tell her that he had known all along? He sat down on the bench and searched her face. "I've...what I mean is...well, you see..." This wasn't working.
Annbri put her small hand on top of his own. "It's okay. Just tell me."
Boba nodded and met her even gaze, taking her hand in his. "I...." He never finished that sentence. Maybe it was their surroundings, maybe it was the fact that today she looked incredibly stunning, but Boba suddenly forgot everything; forgot the files, forgot the mission, forgot the fact that he was leaving her here on Henber today. He pulled her to him and kissed her.
Annbri was a little surprised at first, but certainly had no objections. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned into the kiss, allowing all her fear, doubt, and frustration to melt away as she thought of only one thing. Boba Fett.
Suddenly, Fett released her and pulled away. He stood up quickly and turned in a slow circle, running his hand through his short curly hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Sorry." Then he walked briskly back down the path.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Fett's hands were clenched at his sides in twin fists. His strides long and purposeful, he was attempting to put as much distance as possible between Annbri and himself. It was no use. No matter how far he ranged, he could not get her out of his head. Finally, he found another bench and sat down. Good job, Fett, he told himself, what a smart thing to do. Kiss the long-lost princess of Henber just before you give her back to her family. You two can never be together. Get over it. You're leaving today, and she's staying here. You're a bounty hunter, by Mondore, not some kind of prince or something! Get a grip on yourself, Fett. Think of what Dad would say.
Boba winced at the thought of Jango, who had worked closely with Zam, but had dispached her without pause as soon as she threatened to reveal information. Oh yes, Jango had tried to hide that fact from his ten-year- old son, who had been very fond of Zam, but Boba had found out, and he had never truly forgiven his father, his idol, for killing her.
And then Jango had died. Boba remembered all too well cradling his father's empty helmet. Unable to bear retrieving the severed head, he had simply crouched, holding the helmet that he now wore. That helmet was the face the galaxy had known and feared as Jango Fett; and was already beginning to respect as Boba's visage. But Jango had been a fool. He had gotten too involved; taken sides. Boba would stay detached. He was no one's bodyguard; no one's fool. Jango had liked to make big explosions. An excellent marksman, he was nearly always successful, but there were some, like that cruel Jedi Obi-Wan Kenobi, who had been able to elude him because of Jango's dramatic tactics. Boba didn't take chances. "If it's still movin', keep shootin'," he said quietly, remembering what Zam had taught him long ago.
Zam had been the closest to a mother Boba could ever have hoped for. She would always bring some of her own mother's cinnamon rolls to Kamino when she came to work with Jango, and they had remained his favorite food, no matter how much Jango tried to convince him to eat his yanshen fruit. Zam had doted on Boba, while Jango had been fond, but stern. Jango had regulated Boba's diet strictly; Zam had smuggled in treats. Jango had pushed Boba to the edge of his endurance--and a little further--and Zam had picked him up when he was done. Jango had taught Boba how to be a galaxy- wide feared bounty hunter, but Zam had taught him about the code of honor that even his father had respected and held to. As a result, Boba never killed unecessarily and didn't always lend his services strictly to the highest bidder. There was something in his mind that had snapped when he lost both parent figures within a few days of each other. He had vowed never to cause that kind of pain to another child without adequate reason.
The chrono on the side of the massive wall that towered at the edge of the gardens began tolling the hour, and Boba remembered suddenly that he and Annbri had an audience to be at. He checked the plast against the chrono, and decided that they had only a few time units. Hastily, he sprang up and headed back the way he had come. He found Annbri quickly; she had not left the bench where he had left her, and without speaking a word, he gestured for her to come with him. She would not meet his gaze, but followed right behind him. She did not try to take his arm, nor did he offer it.
Soon they found themselves back in the waiting room at the palace. Boba went up to the clerk droid and found that they were next to go in. They did not speak as they waited, and when the droid called for Ghrenris and Annbri Phendol, Boba followed the clerk into the audience chamber, Annbri trailing behind.
As soon as they entered the Grand Audience Chamber, Annbri felt as though she had shrunk to the size of a Tatooine dust particle. The room, plated completely in gold-colored durasteel, reflected her scared face back at her from the floor, the walls, and the domed ceiling. She clasped her hands nervously in front of herself as she tried to keep from stepping closer to Boba for reassurance. The twenty four councilors, two from each of the twelve houses, sat in a half-circle at a raised gold durasteel table. Each councilor wore the colors of their house, and sat in order of the imporance of their house. The Martriarchs of each house sat on one side, and the Patriarchs on the other, with the highest house of Henber, house Van Denover, sitting in the middle of the semi-circle. There were two empty chairs opposite each other. In front of both of them read a plaque that said "Van Dessel." Annbri wondered briefly where the two Van Dessel councilors were, but soon found her thoughts otherwise occupied.
Annbri, Boba, and the clerk droid were standing in the middle the semicircle, the grave faces of the twenty-two royals regarding them silently.
"Case 98820CG82," the droid intoned, "Boba Fett, for security reasons known as Ghenris Phendol, claims that this girl is Danja Van Dessel." The droid turned and rolled away as the councilors consulted their datapads. And as Annbri gaped openly at Boba. She wanted to say something; to confront him about this...lie? But she could not talk to him now. She could only answer truthfully anything they might ask her.
Done looking over the case, the councilors directed their attention to the two people. The Van Denover Patriarch spoke first. "You," he pointed his stylus at Boba, "Are confirmed to be Boba Fett. Any relation to Jango Fett?"
Boba didn't change expressions. "I am his clone. He acted as my father."
"Your occupation?"
"Bounty hunter."
"Well, like father like clone, eh?" The old man chuckled at his own joke, and Annbri noticed the other, most of them younger, councilors shift restlessly in their seats. Clearly, they wanted to get this over with.
The Van Denover Matriarch broke in. "Mr. Fett, you state in your report that though you are aware that we are hearing no more cases regarding Danja Van Dessel, you have proof that you have found her, and simply had to have an audience. We have agreed to listen to you, but don't waste our time. Where is this proof?"
Boba stepped forward, an old commlink transmitter in his hand. He held it up for the councilors to see, then began to play the message recorded nineteen years before by Anmei Van Dessel. When it ended, with Anmei's last breath, there was silence for a few moments, then the Van Denover Matriarch spoke again. "And what was this girl's name?"
"Annbri." Boba stepped back, allowing Annbri to be better seen.
"She looks just like Anmei," the elderly Van Emytt Patriarch said quietly, and several of the older councilors nodded sadly.
"How old are you, girl?" one of the councilors wanted to know.
"About ninteen," Annbri managed. "They didn't know exactly when I was born."
"Who's they?"
Annbri glanced at Boba. How much was she supposed to tell? Fett, seeing her uncertainty, stepped back in. "She was a slave on Dekenbri for nineteen years. Her master was Jeniru the Hutt. I found her there and rescued her."
Annbri, deciding to play along, nodded. After all, if Boba hadn't come along, Jeniru would have been her master.
The councilors regarded their datapads for another few moments, then the Van Enkeme Patriarch rose. "Where did you find that recording?"
"It was among her personal effects on Dekenbri."
"I see," the patriarch nodded slowly. "I move we call for a DNA verification."
"I second the motion," said the Van Denover Matriarch, and the other councilors nodded their agreement.
Annbri looked wildly about herself as guards surrounded her, separating her from Boba, and taking her arms to escort her away. As she met Boba's eyes, she saw the pain-and the triumph-in his face. How could he? He had known all along that she was indeed the lost heir of the Van Dessel House. And he had not told her. She had found her family. She had lost him.