Boba Fett was half-laying, half-sitting in the pilot's seat of Slave I, the seatbelts keeping him from slipping out of his seat entirely. The sixteen-year-old suddenly jerked awake, a loose strand of hair falling across his eyes. Slave I had just jumped out of hyperspace. Boba looked down on the planet of Corellia, and flew to Coronet, the capitol city.
"Slave I to Coronet Space Port," Boba said over the com. "Requesting permission to land."
"Slave I, this is Coronet Space Port, you have permission to land in docking bay 327," came the staticy reply.
Boba yawned as he landed. He unbuckled the belts, and climbed out of his seat, grabbing his helmet from the control board. As he slipped it on, his fingers ran over a newly acquired scar. He paused, still finding it weird to have a scar there, on his face. He shook his head, to rid his minds of the thoughts, and pulled his helmet fully on.
Once outside, Boba started to walk away, but stopped and turned back suddenly. Fool. He thought. You almost forgot to turn on the security system. Annoyed at his mistake, Boba glared at no one in particular as he continued on. He was supposed to meet his employer, who had requested anonymity, in a central park. The park was easy enough to find, though Boba didn't like being there. Kids, he'd found, were only silent when sleeping, and even then they make a small amount of nose. Boba's face was one of disgust as he remembered the orphan ship he'd been on. The one that was going to take him and a bunch of other orphans to an orphanage on Bespin. How glad he was that he hadn't ended up in it.
Boba positioned himself under a tree, waiting for the man he was to meet. As he waited, he watched the people around him. Suddenly something hit his foot, and he sharply looked down, prepared to fire his wrist lasers at it, when he stopped. It was a red ball. A toy. Boba bent and picked it up, as a little boy ran up to him.
"Can I have my ball back, please?" The boy must have been not older than eight. Boba tossed the ball to him, and the boy grinned. He turned and ran, stopping a few feet from a man who looked like the boy, only a good deal older. The boy threw the ball, and the man caught it.
Boba watched the two, and saw how much fun they were having. How happy they were. How much they loved each other. Memories started to surface in Boba's brain. Memories of the days when he used to play like that with his father. Boba snarled, trying to bury the sudden emotion rushing through him. That boy would grow up with his father, that boy would always have his father, that boy would never have to experience the pain that came with losing your father at a young age. And Boba was angry with that boy; why should he deserve to have his father live while Boba's had died? But at the same time, he felt a sad sort of happiness; at least someone will be able to grow up with a dad. At least that boy's dad wouldn't leave him. Boba felt his hands unconsciously tighten around his blaster. Jango had told him he'd be back. It was the last thing he'd said, and Boba had believed him. Jango hadn't come back. He'd betrayed Boba.
Boba swallowed hard, and slightly shook his head. "No…" he whispered. Jango hadn't betrayed him; it had been the Jedi's fault. The Jedi he'd taken great satisfaction in killing. In a way, it still scared him to think about it. If he, a mere 12-year-old at the time, had been able to kill a Jedi Master, what more could he do? What more was he capable of?
"Boba Fett?" A voice asked.
Boba spun, startled sharply out of his thoughts. He'd allowed his emotions to get in the way. That was something a bounty hunter couldn't do. "Yes," he replied, trying to make his voice as hard and cold as he could.
The man before him was a bit taller than him, and wore the standard CorSec uniform of a high-up official. When he heard Boba speak, he wrinkled his nose, "You're just a kid? But I thought I'd heard that you were the one responsible for killing the Jedi Mace Windu? That was the reason I'm hiring you!"
"I did kill Windu. I'm no ordinary 'kid'." Boba flatly stated.
The man stared into the black T-shaped visor, and a chill ran through him. Only a kid… And reduced to this? What had happened to him to… "Right. This is a… sticky situation. CorSec needs this guy in our captivity, yet we can't get him ourselves. We need you to get him for us. Here." He held out a datadisk, which Boba took. "This contains all the info I have on your target. Good luck."
"I don't need luck." Boba said before turning. With one last glance at the boy and his father, Boba set off, back to his ship, a small wave of longing rushed over him.