Chapter 3

Holo-footage from the opening segment of Mate Switch, Week 48

Denon HoloCast Productions

Ext. Shot Apartment Complex

(white streamlined ovular structures)

Tipoca City

Kamino

0900

Narrator's voice: Meet the Fetts.

Int. Fett Apartment. Living area. Jango and Boba playing a game of dejarik, while Zam Wesell sits in a nearby chair, filing her nails. Jango looks up at the camera. Who are you? What the hell are you doing here?

Narrator. The Fetts are a small family living in an apartment on the rain-planet Kamino.

Shot of a mounted aiwha swooping through waves.

Narrator. The Kaminoans are a very private people who value efficiency and perfection.

Moving shot of the white corridors of Tipoca City. Taun We blocks their path. Excuse me, but that is a restricted area. You were not given landing clearance. I really must insist that you leave.

A hand from behind the camera reaches out and hands her a credit chit. We're just doing a little film project, ma'am.

Taun We examines the chit, and her eyes widen. This way, please.

Narrator. The Fetts fit in well, here, as they, too, value efficiency and perfection. Father, Jango, is a bounty hunter and killer-for-hire.

A shot of a fully armored Jango, firing his blaster pistol at a target on the proving grounds. Cut back to a shot of Jango, in the apartment, in the camera's face. I really think you need to leave.

Narrator. Mother, Zam, is also a mercenary.

Zam stops filing her nails. Hey look, bucko. I'm not anybody's mother. Get that thing out of my face.

Narrator. Son, Boba, sometimes goes on bounty hunting missions with his dad. But usually, he stays at home, spending his day reading books from the Tipoca City library.

Shot of Boba walking off the deck of Slave I, followed by a shot of him in his chair, reading a book.

Narrator. With all the emphasis on bounty-tracking and killing, there's not much time for family bonding.

Jango glares at Zam. Zam, what in the Unknown Regions did you do?

Zam. Don't look at me. I didn't let these people in.

Jango pulls his WESTAR-34 out from under the dejarik board.

Zam. Maybe you should call Taun We.

Jango. I can handle intruders myself.

Narrator. Daddy Jango can be a bit touchy.

Jango fires his blaster, knocking a crew member to his death with a brief, truncated scream.

Narrator. But he might just learn a little sensitivity when he meets his new mate.

Jango, already holding his blaster to another cameraman's head, looks at the holocam. New mate?

Slowly, all eyes in the room turn toward Boba.

It is chaos in the Fetts' apartment. A multispecies crew of holodrama-makers has cams positioned around the apartment. One of the crew members lies on the floor, a smoking blaster-wound in the center of his forehead. Jango has his blaster held to another's head. The others regard the scene with a mixture of fear and determination with the idea planted in their head that this will make great holodrama. Zam sits in her chair, bewildered but clearly amused. At the center of it all is Boba Fett, trying not to look embarrassed at the fact that every eye, eyestalk, or photoreceptor in the room is trained on him.

"I called them, Dad," he admitted. "I thought it would be cool."

There is a collective sigh of relief and Jango lowers his pistol. He turns, walks the distance to his son, then begins speaking rapidly in Huttese.

Boba's face turns red. Zam stands up angrily. She lets loose her own burst of Huttese.

Jango answers in the language of the underworld, jabbing at the air with his fingers.

Zam responds, her voice escalating, her hands gesticulating wildly.

Boba interjects with his own outburst in the same language.

"Enough!" Jango cries out. "There will be no filming of our home. Period. This is not up for discussion."

"I'm sorry, Boba," Zam said. "You don't have a mother to swap anyway."

Boba grinned.

"Oh no." Zam stepped back. "Not a chance."

"And besides," Jango put in. "A bounty hunter needs his privacy. The last thing we need is every being in the galaxy knowing what my real face looks like."

"Why?" Zam asked. "Are you ashamed of it?"

"We could change your name," one of the crew members put in. "That's not a problem."

"But you being in my house is a problem. I'm a busy man."

"Boba informed us of your extenuating circumstances when he called."

"Extenuating circumstances?" Jango repeated. "What—."

"We agreed to double the usual compensatory amount we pay to our subjects," the director said. "One hundred thousand credits."

"I don't care if--." Jango was cut off as Zam Wesell held up a hand. "Did you say a hundred-thousand credits?"

Boba grinned.

Zam looked at Boba. Boba looked at his father. Jango stared at Zam.

"Bounty hunter conference," Zam said. "Your room."

The two hunters had moved to Jango's room and closed the door.

"Come on, Jango. A hundred thousand credits. Just to let these fools film you for a few days. Tell me that's not the best contract you've been offered this year."

"That's ridiculous, Zam. That's not a contract. It's an insult. Cheapening my life, whoring out my family to the masses for a few creds. I refuse."

"No, Fett. Not a few creds. A lot of creds."

Jango crossed his arms.

"What about Boba? You won't even do this for him?"

"Boba doesn't understand yet just how much of a bad idea this is."

"He doesn't have to understand. A hundred-thousand credits. I'll even split em with you. Right down the middle."

"Gee, thanks."

"Ya know, Jango. It's times like these, when you turn down buckets of money for principles, I wonder if maybe you've gone soft."

Fett scowled, and Zam knew she had struck a chord.

"Fifty-fifty, huh?"

"And all you have to do is stay here and make nice for the camera. I'm the one who has to go to a distant planet and play mommy."

Jango's face twisted into one of those extremely rare Fett smiles. He reached for the door.

A wave of apprehension washed over Zam. "Only—I wonder what sort of family I'll be swapped in to."

Jango was still smiling, a very creepy phenomenon. "It's like you said, Zam. Just the exact opposite of us."