Fett jolted himself awake angry that he had fallen asleep again. He winced as he sat up. The hyperspace warning was beeping insistently. They had less than two minutes before they reentered real space. He pushed himself up, cradling his arm as he prepared the ship for any possible attacks. Syntas appeared behind him, rubbing her eyes and cutting off a yawn.
The ship lurched as they dropped out of hyperspace. Syntas gripped the back of the pilot's seat as he pulled the ship sharply to the right, barely avoiding the floating debris surrounding the moon. Its brown surface was molted with darker grays and yellows.
"Where are we?" Syntas leaned forward to get a closer look at moon.
"Nar Shadda, the smugglers' moon." He straightened their course, taking them down into the atmosphere.
"Not the best place to be, or anywhere near where we need to go." Syntas grimaced at the approaching cities. While she had never interacted with the underside of society she had heard all of the wild stories in the Jedi classrooms when the teachers were out of the room.
"We need time, and I need information." Fett's voice was not as faint as before, though it was still hoarse. He reached up to key in his code to bypass planetary security. Syntas watched, slightly in awe at the number of ships flying in and out of the smugglers moon, not to mention the variety. The ship classes ranged from snub fighters to frigates and everything in between. There were even a few that made Fett's Slave 1 look new.
The docking bay where they landed looked as seedy as Syntas had imagined it would. The lights were dim and a thick coating of pollution covered everything. Even one of the supports looked dangerously unstable. She raised an eyebrow, looking down at Fett.
He ignored it and proceeded to guide his ship in. The bay was mostly empty except for a few ships that looked like they had been the recipients of more than a few illegal upgrades. Fett set them down perfectly near the back, well concealed in the shadows.
Syntas turned towards the hatch, but Fett's hand clamped onto her arm with an iron grip, "Everything you do will be approved by me. Including where you go and when you leave." His eyes seemed to see through into her mind, even behind the visor of his helmet.
"You will be informed of my actions, but I am not merchandise or your prisoner." Syntas' voice was cold as she wrenched her arm from his grip.
"No, but I am in charge. And when we are in a secure location you are going to give me all the information you have about this task I'm supposed to assist you with. You know absolutely nothing about life in this part of the galaxy." There was barely controlled rage in his voice now, as he added in a quiet, yet terrifyingly dangerous voice, "You know nothing about the rest of the galaxy." He stepped around her, leaving the cockpit.
Fett took his armor from the weapons locker, grimacing as it touched the healing burns on his back. It had taken him too long to get the anger under control. He carefully added the various weapons that he had removed before entering medical facility. Nar Shadda may be the best place for them to hide, but it was not the safest place in the galaxy.
He reached deeper into the locker, searching until he found the few pieces of armor he had taken from a smuggler he had brought in a few years ago. The dark, smooth, closefitting helmet with the narrow visor would conceal Syntas' somewhat distinctive features easily. She was lucky the smuggler had been about her size, or it could have been much more difficult.
When Fett appeared at the hatch, Syntas was already waiting. She greeted him with a glare that probably could have taken out the shields on an x-wing with a single shot. He tossed her the collection of armor. Syntas caught it awkwardly, momentarily distracted from her frustration with the man who had been hired to help her.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" She eyed the black arm guards curiously.
"Wear it." Fett reached up to the keypad beside the hatch, programming the Slave 1's defenses for the time that they would be gone. He had no intention of pieces of his ship ending up in one of the many chop shops operating out of Nar Shadda. Despite the fact that the Aqualish who owned the docking bay would throw himself into a trash compacter before he allowed thieves into his bay, Fett was never willing to take unnecessary risks.
"Why do I have to do that?" Syntas demanded, interrupting his work.
"Unless you want Cradossk and whoever else wants to find you to know we're here you are going to conceal your face. Nar Shadda is full of people who make a living finding and selling information." Fett explained slowly. It was irritating to explain himself to her constantly, but he had been employed to assist her, and strangely enough he wanted her to learn to survive in the world she was now part of. Just why he cared about it, he had not determined yet.
Fett waited impatiently for her to reappear. Just when he was ready to storm into the back of the ship to see why it was taking her so long, regardless of what state of dressing she was in, she returned.
Her dark hair had disappeared inside the dark helmet that covered her entire head and her blue clothing was now hidden beneath the long black arm and leg guards. The chest plate was a failure for obvious reasons and she held the boots in one hand, looking almost comic standing barefoot in front of Fett, with both of them squeezed into the small entryway of the Slave 1.
"The boots are too small." Syntas dropped them onto the metal floor, where they landed with a clank.
"Wear them." Fett scooped them up and shoved them back into her arms, only then realizing how little space there was between them.
Syntas noticed as well, edging back, clutching the boots. She cursed under her breath as she forced her feet into them. Fett listened for a moment before turning his attention to rechecking the security protocols. As he did not truly have a mother, it really didn't matter to him if Syntas thought she was a Gamorrean with Tatooine Sand Rot and had done a variety of impossible things in conceiving him.
As soon as she was ready Fett hit the latch and the hatch opened. The air on Nar Shaddaa was thick with smoke and pollution; it coated their lungs as soon as they stepped into it, making Fett cough. Syntas glanced at him in concern.
"I'm fine." Fett brushed off her concern. He locked the Slave 1 against their return before leading her out of the docking bay. Syntas stared at the ruined, sinister buildings as if they were the statue court of Corecsant. A few of the mercenaries and smugglers they passed gave them suspicious looks as Syntas stared at them unashamedly.
"Don't stare." Fett pulled her around a corner as he saw a particularly tense, and somewhat drunk, Gotell reached for his blaster. Syntas looked at her feet, embarrassed, and nodded.
After leading his somewhat naïve employer through several more alleyways of Nar Shaddaa's main port city Fett ducked into one of the many buildings with rooms for rent. This one had peeling green paint and a flickering holo sign proclaiming it as Harwah's House of Rest. Harwah himself, an aging Whiphid, greeted Fett with a nod before returning to the news he was reading from the screen across from him. Fett dropped some credits on the nauseating green desk as he passed.
Harwah kept rooms for a number of middle class bounty hunters. Each one was equipped with a bed for the hunter and storage space for any merchandise they might be dragging along with them. Fett maintained one such room for emergencies such as this one. He had a somewhat unhealthy tendency not to respect older hunters who mistakenly considered themselves his betters.
By this time their hike through the underbelly of Nar Shaddaa was beginning to wear on him. His back and lungs were burning again. If there had been any nearby place to hide without this much pollution and other disreputable sentients he would have chosen it over Nar Shaddaa, but such a place didn't exist.
Fett's room was near the back, across from the back door. He had always believed it best to have a second exit, as had Jango. Syntas' eyes, though wide with all they had seen had lost some of their tourist's glaze and were again considering her options. Again she raised her eyebrow at the low quality of the room, but Fett didn't give any more of a reply this time than he had the last several times she had commented on the surroundings he put her in.
The room thankfully was merely a bland tan color rather than the glaring green of the lobby. There was a single bed in the corner of the room and a small cot across from it. It even included a bathroom with indoor plumbing, something that Syntas remarked on incredulously. He carefully checked the room for listening devices, finding only two, which he removed to the hall instead. There they could transmit the silence rather than attract their owner's attention by destroying them.
Fett sat down on the edge of the bed, easing off his heavier weapons while Syntas explored the room. She was reaching for the lock on the window to raise the bars when he interrupted her.
"Now you are going to explain exactly what we are doing." Fett shifted slightly in an attempt to ease the pressure on his healing back. A few of the burns had broken open again and he could feel the blood soaking into the bandage Syntas had applied there.
Syntas looked down at the helmet she had worn, which she was now holding in her hands, "It isn't easy to explain." Her voice was completely devoid of the anger and furious life that normally filled it. It sounded only tired and sad, almost like a lost child's.
Fett felt something stir inside of him, a feeling that he crushed before waiting to discover what it was. "But it is still necessary."
Syntas smiled, a small half smile, "You probably wouldn't know this, but as head of the Jedi order Master Yoda kept a record of each Jedi from the youngest apprentice to the greatest Masters. It was a tradition that we have carried on for centuries." Her voice was full of the awe she had for the teachings and traditions of the order that she would not be able to join now. Fett's own hatred returned at these tones of respect for the group that had caused him so much pain.
"The Record was the most prized part of our library. Only now it could condemn any who have received training in the Temples. Lord Vader has been searching for it, he will use it to destroy the last of the Jedi." She said his name with the same level of disgust Fett generally reserved for the Jedi.
"Why is it important? There are other records."
He used his helmet to record her explanation so he could study it more carefully if necessary, especially considering he was continually distracted by Syntas herself, finding himself watching her rather than analyzing her words. Angry with himself and again confused by his strange lapse he refocused on what she was saying.
"It's a record of who we are. It's not a simple data file! It is the oldest of all Jedi artifacts! It uses the Force itself to record each entity who joins the Jedi! With it he could turn any of us! Find any of us!" She got to her feet, as if she was going to strike him in her anger. Fett caught her hand just before she could.
Syntas was breathing hard as Fett forced her to sit down, "I… I'm sorry. It's just been hard, you, Narissa, this whole mess." Fett guided her to the cot while she collected herself. "It's a great deal to be responsible for." Fett nodded to calm her.
"And what have you hired me to do?" His voice was still rough. Fett suspected it would remain that way permanently. One advantage though, he reflected, would be that it concealed most emotions effectively.
"We are going to destroy it." It came out in a whisper as if Syntas could completely believe it herself.
"Where is it?" Fett, unlike Syntas was not bound by the same awe and respect for another one of the useless traditions the Jedi imposed on themselves.
"I don't know the planet's name, but I have the coordinates memorized." She tapped her temple, making Fett's eyes trace her face and wildly disarrayed hair.
"Good." Fett considered demanding that she give him the coordinates, but even if she died, a thought that disturbed him though he again didn't know why, its secret would be lost and Fett's services would not be needed further.
Author's Note:
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Well, Grand Admiral Gin, it looks like you're the only reader, but hey if you like it, I'll update, at least we can enjoy the fic. And I do appreciate your review very much, It meant a lot to me. And if you think I'm doing anything right after reading stuff people have gotten published, well, only one thing to say to that, thank you, thank you, oh yeah and thank you. :)