Chapter 4

Holo-footage from the Segment 1B of Mate Switch, Week 48

Denon HoloCast Productions

Int. Fett Apartment

Narrator: It's the day of the swap, and Mommy Zam is a bit nervous.

Zam sitting in a chair, looks to the side, then at the camera. Did he just call me Mommy?

Narrator. She doesn't know what to expect when she meets her new family.

Zam talking to Jango in the kitchen. What if they're freakin' Aqualish or something? I don't think I could stand the smell. You know how bad Aqualish smell?

Jango: Not live ones, no.

Narrator: Little Boba, however, is excited.

A shot of Boba feeding the eel in the tank in Jango's bedroom, then cut to Boba sitting on the edge of a bed. I like Zam—I mean, Mommy—but I'm looking forward to seeing what someone else's, um—mommy is like.

Narrator: Father Jango, as usual, has nothing but work on his mind.

Jango, suited up in his armor, holding the helmet under one arm. I'm going down to the proving ground to train the (audio track goes silent and a black bar appears over Jango's mouth) for the (). I'll be back in (). If the () calls, have him page me through ()'s office.

Narrator: Zam is packed and ready, and she says good-bye to her son.

Zam, decked out in full body-suit and helmet, stands at the door, staring down at Boba. Well, good-bye, um…son. She reaches down and tentatively pats him on the head. Don't forget to um, eat those—ya know—green things.

Shot of Boba's confused face. Hawkbats?

Zam smiles. Yeah, that's it. Bye. She turns, secures her privacy scarf around her face, and walks out the door.

Narrator: And now it's time for Boba's new mother to arrive.

The director waved a hand. "And cut!"

The holocams turned off and crew members began wheeling equipment out of the way.

"Wait a minute," Boba said. "I thought you said it was time for my new mother to get here."

"That was just for the tape, kid," the director, a Human male, said. "Your new mom won't get here for another 5 Standard."

"Minutes?" Boba asked.

"No. Hours."

"Oh. Well, what am I supposed to do until then?"

The director looked at him puzzled. "I don't know. Whatever you usually do."

"But, who's going to look after me? You guys are the only ones here."

The director sat down in a folding chair and bit into a spice cake. "We'll watch you, kid. Don't worry." He dribbled crumbs on the floor, then noted Boba's concerned expression. "Um." He held out the half-eaten confection. "Spice cake?"

Boba shook his head. "The maid droid's not going to be happy that you did that."

The director leaned back in his chair. "Big freakin' deal. Like I'm really afraid of some maid droid anyway."

Just at that moment, a Kaminoan maid droid came whirring and chucking into the room on its repulsorlifts. Like all Kaminoan creations, it was white to the Human eye (though it was a pleasing combination of colors in the ultraviolet spectrum) and built to be streamlined and highly efficient. The droid was, however, something close to 3 meters tall.

The director barely had time to start in surprise before the droid's large retractable arms had picked up his chair and unceremoniously dumped him from it. The director yelped and crawled away just as a large vacuum tube came out of a hidden socket and began sucking up anything smaller than the chair itself.

As quickly as it had come, the maid droid moved on to the next room, whirring and chucking its disapproval at the state of the kitchen.

"Well," the director said rubbing his head. "At least your new mom won't have to worry about the housework."

Jango Fett stood on a platform with Taun We, overlooking the proving grounds where hundreds of white-armored troopers were marching in perfect unison.

Or at least, what looked to a layman to be perfect unison.

"Their rhythm is still off," Jango said to the supernaturally thin, pale-skinned alien next to him.

Taun We, with her Kaminoan eye for absolute perfection, was one of the small percentage of beings in the galaxy who could see it, too. "Yes," she acknowledged. "But it has seen great improvement with your training programs. Ko Sai and the other scientists did not believe it possible. But your programs have improved upon a regiment that was already operating at a 99.867 efficiency rate."

Jango's eyes were still fixed on the soldiers. "Numbers mean nothing. They need more work."

The hunter took his helmet off a nearby shelf and slid it over his head. Without another word, he leaped over the edge of the platform, descending several hundred meters straight into the proving grounds. It seemed to Taun We that he only engaged the rocket-pack on his back as an afterthought.

The Kaminoan crossed her long, skinny arms, shook her head and sighed.

She might never understand Jango Fett's methods.

But she had come to realize in a way that no Kaminoan before had, that she didn't have to understand.

All she had to do was sit back and watch.