Chapter IX - Fett Family Values
"Oh great!" exclaimed Xna, baring his fangs in a gesture of exasperation. "Masssster Sssskywalker'sss gone completely off his rocker!"
"You're sure he went to Madman's Crown?" asked Hekku.
/Where else would he go/ demanded Korie. /You saw the look on his face when Wor'arran told him where to find the Dragon./
"I suggest we go after him!" Hekku announced. "He can't have gone too far by now."
"His orders were to stay here," Chyna protested. "We're supposed to take care of the pirate threat while he's gone."
"Oh?" demanded Gabriel. "And what are five Padawans supposed to do about pirates, Mandalorians, and a rabidly vengeful Force-user?"
"Look, I know it's a shock," Chyna told him. "But he did say he thinks we can handle it."
/She's right/ Korie pointed out. /He's putting a lot of trust in us. Let's not disappoint him./
"Good day, Jedi!" Wor'arran greeted, striding toward their table in the cantina. Several customers gave him odd looks as he walked past.
"Hi, Wor," muttered Xna.
"Wor'arran," he corrected. Sandpeople didn't seem to be keen on nicknames. "Where's Jedi Luke? Asleep still?"
"No, monsier, he went to Madman's Crown this morning," Gabriel replied.
Wor'arran gave a honk of dismay. "He WHAT!"
"Our sentiments exactly," Hekku replied.
"He go into Madman's Crown? Alone? No starman warriors with him?"
"No, he just took a survival kit, a speeder bike, and his lightsaber," Chyna told him. "Told us to handle the pirates in his stead."
"Is Jedi Luke crazy!" demanded Wor'arran, waving his hands around in panic. "No one go into Crown alone! That why we call Madman's Crown! Only madmen go in alone!"
"Too late to do anything about it now," Xna said resignedly. "Jussst do assss he ordered."
"I would hate to have to be the one to tell Anakin if that Dragon witchwoman decided to kill Master Luke," Gabriel said gravely.
"What, is he going to fall apart?" demanded Chyna. "He's a Jedi; they should know how to take loss."
Gabriel snorted. "Tusken Raiders killed Anakin's mother," he explained. "In his rage, he killed the entire camp. Even the women and children." The other Jedi's eyes went wide at this announcement. "That started him on the path to the dark side. If a Tusken killed his son, he might very well fall apart."
"And how do you know this?" Hekku asked skeptically.
"I am a geek," he said proudly. "Many of my friends are geeks. I belong to certain geek organizations -- the Fighting 501st, the Official Star Wars Fan Club, FanForce, and the like. And as a geek, I am privy to some very interesting information."
Wor'arran looked from one Jedi to another in bewildered confusion. This conversation was getting way over his head.
"Before we get into another one of Gabriel's geek conversations," Korie said sternly, using the translator for Wor'arran's benefit, "let's review the facts. Master Skywalker is on a mission that will hopefully benefit our current situation. He's asked us to carry on in his absence. So what should we do -- watch for more pirate activity and protect Tatooine? Or sit around and debate his sanity while the pirates do whatever they wish?"
"Good point," Xna noted.
"Why don't we check out the refugee camps?" asked Hekku. "Korie and I will take the northern Jawa and smuggler encampments. They're especially vulnerable."
"Gabriel and I will have a look at the Anchorhead camp," Chyna replied. "Xna, find Governor Nitch and go with him to check the eastern settlement."
"It will be done," he replied.
"Wor'arran, go back to the Tusken camp and await further orders," Gabriel told him. "If the Tusken scouts see anything unusual, have them report to us."
"Yes, Jedi Gabriel," he said.
Break…
Boba Fett staggered through the apartment, grumbling and rubbing his eyes groggily. Who the stang was calling at one-thirty in the blasted morning?
"Fett residence," he growled, flicking on the holocomm unit.
Aurra Sing took one look at him and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
"Shut up," he snarled.
"The two most important garments, I see," she giggled.
He grabbed Liz's nightrobe and threw it around him, thankful that his wife wasn't much into frills or feminine colors. What was Aurra's problem, anyway? Plenty of men slept in their underwear. And his wife and daughter were the only people he would allow to see his unmasked face.
"Say what you have to say and get off the line," he hissed. "Sleep's a precious commodity these days."
She snorted. "Should have though of that before you adopted."
"It's worth the hassle," he assured her. "Though I doubt you'd ever know, cold-hearted as you are."
"Let's cut to the chase, Fett," she replied curtly. "I have a message from Tusk."
He stared blankly at her. "Who the hell is Tusk?"
"The Mandalorians are regrouping and taking on their first mission in many years," she answered. "Their new leader, Jodo Kast, has taken on the code name of Tusk for this mission. And I have been temporarily recruited to their cause." She smiled. "Who knows? I may become one myself. Be one step ahead of the galaxy's supposed best."
"What does this have to do with me?" he demanded.
"Jodo Kast wants me to deliver an ultimatum."
"For the last time, I'm not joining them. My father may have been a Mandalorian, but I am clearly not my father, am I? I'm not interested in belonging to any organization or establishment apart from my family."
"Let me elaborate," she said in a silky voice that concealed venom. "Kast knows who killed the Mandalorian on Earth. He has contacts there. And he can easily arrange it to make you the prime suspect."
"So join them or go to prison, is that it?" He laughed. "Tell Kast I have a solid alibi for that night. Naomi had an ear infection, and twenty people saw and heard us in the doctor's office the hour he was murdered."
She gave a chilling smile. "I'll be sure to let him know. But be warned, Fett -- Kast's getting tired of you. Non-Mandalorians have no right to wear the armor. I'd be very careful if I were you, unless you either changed your mind about joining or reconsidered your wardrobe."
"Why don't you go stun yourself?" he suggested before turning off the comm.
As he entered the bedroom again he took another look at his sleeping wife and baby. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated their faces, Liz's serene in a deep sleep, Naomi's with her fists planted in her mouth. He smiled and touched Naomi's face gently, then sat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through his wife's thick black hair.
/How in the stars did I get so lucky/ he wondered, lifting her hand to kiss it.
A shrill, plaintive cry alerted him, and he turned to the crib.
"Honey," Liz moaned, starting to get up.
"You sleep," Fett told her. "I'll handle it."
He carried Naomi back to the living room, rocking her, trying to soothe her. She wasn't wet or messy, and she wouldn't accept her bottle. What was wrong with her? Had she had a nightmare? Did babies this young have dreams?
/I wouldn't blame her if she suffered a nightmare. She's been through so much for someone so young./
He could only imagine how traumatic it must have been for her, even being so young and not understanding concepts like pirates and murder. It would have been so terrifying to see flashes of light, hear the screams of her parents, the harsh voices of the strangers as they tore the place apart, destroying what they didn't deem valuable. And then to be taken away in strange arms to an unfamiliar place far, far away...
He bent down to gently kiss her tiny forehead. It would not happen a second time. Not if he could help it. Kast could bluster and threaten all he wanted, but Fett wasn't going to put some warrior's order before his family. Mandalorians demanded total dedication to their cause, whatever it might be at the moment, and he didn't have that to give. Liz and Naomi were his first priorities.
And if Kast ever did or threatened to do anything that would put the women he loved in jeopardy, it would be the last thing he ever did.
He sat in the recliner and carefully rocked Naomi, whose cries were abating as she calmed down. Stang, how he loved this child! He prayed he could be as good a father as Jango. If only the elder Fett could be around to see his grandchild.
When Liz walked into the living room later that morning, on her way to the kitchen and a morning cup of coffee, she saw Fett asleep in the recliner, Naomi in his arms. She smiled gently and kissed each of them on the cheek.
"You'll be a good daddy, dear," she whispered
Break…
"Master Skywalker, look out!"
Anakin snapped out of meditation and stood, at once alert. But nothing seemed to be wrong. The Padawans were all meditating on the unifying Force, Patrick and Jason were making noise in the kitchen as they attempted to fix the toaster Ra- Sheen had crammed several videotapes into, and Gregory was watching the lesson in interest. He sensed nothing amiss. But Nautala was wide-eyed with panic and gasping for breath.
"Nautala?" he inquired.
"I saw Master Skywalker!" he babbled. "He was riding a speeder bike an' got shot from behind an' he fell off an' he grabbed his lightsaber an' three ugly guys an' a girl jumped after him..."
"Shut up, you're bugging me!" demanded Miso, opening one eye. Nautala's rambling was interrupting everyone's meditation.
"...an' Master Skywalker chopped one of them's arm off an' this big tentacle reached out to grab them 'cause I guess the bike crashed right by a sarlaac pit..."
"Nautala, stop," Anakin ordered gently. "It's all right."
"But it was so REAL!" the boy gushed.
"Well, when I was listening to the Force, I saw Master Skywalker talking to a Sandpeople with a broken arm," Rachel piped up, standing.
"Yeah, like that could ever happen," Niya scoffed.
"It could!" Rachel defended, glaring at the Twi'leck with her hands on her hips.
"Nuh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Uh-huh!"
"All right, you two, that's enough," Anakin ordered. "Sit down, Rachel."
"But it could happen!" Rachel shouted, flopping down with a pout.
"Nautala and Rachel have both seen some interesting things," Anakin told the others. "But remember the wise words of Master Yoda, which are..."
"Always in motion is the future," the students chanted together.
"That's correct. These visions may come true and they may not. They are simply scenes of what COULD be, not what WILL be."
Nautala seemed to relax with this news while Rachel's pout deepened.
"Gregory, what time is it?" asked Anakin.
He checked his watch. "Four-thirty."
"Goodness! We've been at this for hours! Very well, you're all dismissed for the day."
Everyone cheered and stood.
"And as a treat for being so well-behaved, our friends Mr. Gregory Skinner and Miss Darcy Akers are going to take you all to see a movie tonight."
"All right, you little munchkins," Gregory ordered when the second round of cheering ended. "Out the door. Movie starts at six."
Once the last Padawan was out the door, Jason exploded into a torrent of profanity. Anakin calmly walked into the kitchen and helped himself to a handful of potato chips as Jason continued his expletive-filled tirade.
"Are you done?" he asked.
Jason ended the spiel with a yowl as he cut his thumb trying to pry the remains of a cassette out of the appliance. "Add the cost of a new toaster, four Monty Python videos, and a screwdriver to the Republic's bill."
"Will do."
"Don't take it so hard," Patrick told his brother. "Ra-Sheen wasn't being malicious."
Jason grunted. "Why'd I let you talk me into this?"
"You tell me."
"At least they're not yet to the point where they require lightsaber drilling," Anakin said.
Jason cringed, imagining the damage. "Point taken."
"Think there could be anything to those visions?" asked Patrick.
Anakin shrugged. "I honestly don't know. I hope not, of course. Being attacked by pirates wouldn't exactly be pleasant. But he knew the risks when he accepted this mission. It's a possibility he'll be attacked."
"What about Rachel's vision?" asked Jason.
"Tuskens aren't famed for their diplomatic skills. Unless he strays too far into the Wastes, I doubt he'll encounter one."