A/N: Long time, friends! Thank you for hanging in there while I took forever to get this next chapter up. I hope it won't take nearly as long to get the next one up. My brain has finally synced back up with this story so I'm feeling good about bein able to continue with this for a while. I hope you enjoy!

27 BBY

New Holstice was a bright and vibrant planet. It would have been a nice place to visit if not for the overly sterilized buildings and orderly landscaping. Every bit of the place was meticulously organized to the point where, for Jango, it seemed only a facsimile of liveliness. It was a well crafted facade, designed to give the people coming to the hospital world for treatment a sense of security and hope that they would leave this place healthy and whole. Almost like the Jedi, except this place actually helped people.

Tracking the Jedi down had been easy once Slave I's computers sliced into the hospital database. Andan Valazos kept a regular schedule, with the only deviations being for emergencies. Those were few and far between however, and most of their spare time was spent meditating with the Jedi's memory moths. It was designed to serve as a memorial to those Jedi who were killed in the defense of the Republic. Each moth whispered a name of a fallen Jedi. A single name.

They can't even be bothered to do their own Remembrances. Jango's nose twitched in disgust, his sneer hidden under his helmet. They passed through the gardens as the sun set, casting blinding orange rays that reflected off tinted transparisteel windows in all directions. They carefully avoided the crowds during the evening shift change and any curious eyes that might have lingered a little too long. Boba walked ahead of his father, failing at keeping his excitement in check.

"You must step lightly, Boba," Jango said, drawing his son's attention away from the silvery fish that swam circles in the manmade pond beside them. "Keep your weight on the front of your foot, not the heel. You don't want your target to know you're close."

Boba slowed his pace, focusing on his boots and tiptoeing with exaggerated steps. Jango shook his head with a silent chuckle. At least he's quiet now. Every few steps he would stop and look up to check where he was going. Jango didn't rush him, there was plenty of time and nowhere for Andan to hide. Even if he tried to run, he wouldn't get very far. Jango didn't want to make a scene, but he would if he had to. Whatever way it came to, it would be a good learning lesson for his son. He thought back to their talk, and hoped that Boba wouldn't falter when the time came to act.

"Why do you want to kill him, buir?" Boba asked as they flew through hyperspace towards New Holstice. Jango frowned at his son, deciding how to answer. He deserved to know, but how much would a five year old understand?

"Before you were born, I was in charge of a large group of Mando'ade," he began. "They were good soldiers, and good friends. They were aliit." He thought of Myles, his last memory of his second being cut in two by a lightsaber as he tried to fly above them with his jetpack. "A group of Jedi thought we did bad things to innocent people. Instead of talking with us they attacked us, and killed everyone but me and your ba'vodu. Then they gave us to slavers." Boba's eyes went wide, but he waited, leaning forward to hear more. "Your Cye'ba and I swore to avenge our aliit's deaths, no matter what. This person, Andan Valazos, was part of that group of Jedi on Galidraan. That's why we are killing them."

Boba's bottom lip quivered, but he didn't cry. Jango was surprised that he'd managed to keep his own tears in check. It had been a long time since he'd thought back on Galidraan. He'd felt so empty that day, surrounded by the bodies of everyone he'd ever known. Myles had been his best friend and mentor. Watching him be cut down set Jango into a blind rage. He'd thought he'd lost Cye too until they dragged her up from the e-web.

The years hadn't dulled his hatred for the Jedi or Death Watch. The torment he was put through as a slave was never far from his thoughts. The unspeakable violation and pain Cye endured sent him into a helpless, seething rage with every nightmare she woke up screaming. Jango would make them pay. He would end the Jedi, by any means necessary.

Jango's smoldering anger settled comfortably in the knots between his shoulder blades. It kept him focused on the task ahead. Part of him wished he'd left Boba on Kamino. The boy shouldn't yet see the things he wanted to do to Andan, the suffering he wanted to bring upon the Jedi. He knew though that one day Boba would be on his own, and he would need to understand the lengths that someone would go to for vengeance. It was an important lesson to remember when choosing whether to let someone live.

They slowly made their way to the heart of the gardens, towards the cylindrical monument housing flickering lights that drifted aimlessly about inside. Displaced leaves swirled in the breeze, carrying with it the astringent evergreen of the swaying trees. It was a gentle caress compared to the violent gusts of Kamino. They were far enough away from the hospital complex that the distant murmur of patients and doctors blended with the humming of insects waking up for the evening. The setting sun was nature's changing of the guard. The chirps and night songs reminded Jango of nights spent in the field on one mission or another, sometimes camping by a fire, sometimes huddled beside his vode by starlight. It was a bittersweet moment. A moment of Aay'han that blended strangely with the rising lust for vengeance so close at hand.

The column at the center towered over the gardens. They were close enough to see the flickering lights inside weren't floating aimlessly. "They're alive," Boba whispered, eyes filled with wonder at the glowing moths fluttering in lazy circles around their enclosure.

"You need to stay focused, Boba," Jango reminded him. "Those are memory moths. They carry the names of the dead."

"Oh."

The explanation didn't sate the boy's curiosity, but he asked no more questions. Jango paused, removing his helmet and kneeling eye to eye with his son. "Remember why we are here. Jedi are dangerous. A single distraction will give them the opening they need to overpower you." Boba pressed his lips tight and nodded. He has my frown, Jango thought. Of course he does. "You memorized the person's face? Do you remember what we practiced?"

"Yes, buir."

"Good," Jango said with a curt nod. "We only have one shot at this, Boba. You need to make it count."

The little boy squared his shoulders, giving his best serious expression. "I won't let you down. I promise."

"I know you won't." Jango offered a small smile and gave him a pat on the shoulder before he stood, once again dining his helmet. "Go on. You know what to do. I'll be right behind you."

Boba took a deep breath, his eyes focused on his thoughts as he gathered his courage and wits. Then he was gone, sprinting off as fast as his legs could carry him towards the cylindrical tower. Jango watched him dash around the corner out of sight. He clenched his jaw against the twisting of his stomach. He realized in that moment how his adopted father, Jaster Mereel, felt when he'd sent a young Jango out on dangerous training missions. It was the best way to learn, and often the only way to truly understand what a person is capable of under pressure.

The ear piercing shriek nearly stopped his heart. Either Boba was better than he thought, or his son had really hurt himself. It took every ounce of resolve not to run and find him. No matter what, the plan was active. He had a job to do and he wasn't going to ruin Boba's efforts, especially if he'd injured himself in order to succeed in the mission. Instead of rushing he took stealthed with measured steps, making sure his boots made no sound as they touched the hard pavement.

He activated the thermal imaging in his helmet, scanning the area for other sentients. They'd timed their arrival well. Even with Boba's scream, they'd not gathered an audience around the memorial. He could make out two images beyond the manicured wall of plants separating the home of the Jedi's memory moths from the rest of New Holstice. A larger figure knelt down beside Boba's small frame. They were focused on his arm, and it seemed to glow warmer than the rest of his son's body. He'd seen that before with open wounds.

That's definitely a distraction. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was about to come. The Mirialan wore a set of simple robes, not dissimilar from Jedi garb. They had their back to Jango as he approached in silence. Boba hadn't noticed Jango either. Instead he stared at his arm with wide eyes still shining with tears. The Jedi had both his hands wrapped around his son's bloodied arm, their head bowed low as they focused. There was a smattering of blood on the duracrete where Boba had taken his fall, the rest was soaking into his sleeve and the Mirialan's robes. Jango stopped a couple meters away and unholstered both blasters.

"I know why you're here." The Jedi's voice was resigned, relieved even. "This was a clever distraction."

"Step away from my son, Valazos," Jango growled as he stepped closer.

"Your son?" Andan Valazos glanced up at Boba before refocusing on his arm. "Sloppy for a Mandalorian to break their arm. I'm nearly done, Jango Fett. Then you can do what you came here for."

The casual way Andan reacted to his presence put Jango on high alert. He scanned the area, confirming no other life forms within 200 meters. Just the three of them and the memory moths. He could hear the soft whispers of the names of Jedi long since dead. He kept his blasters trained on Andan, ready for whatever the Jedi was preparing for. He locked eyes with Boba. The boy showed no fear,

"I sense your confusion," Andan said after a moment. "I can assure you there is no deception here."

They released Boba's arm with great care. His sleeve was torn and stained with fresh blood, but where Jango had expected a bone to be sticking out there was only bare, unblemished skin. Boba sucked in a surprised gasp as he held his arm up to his face. He twisted it around to inspect every side before looking between his father and the Jedi. Jango gave a slight tilt of his head and the boy responded, rolling away from Andan and to his feet.

Jango stepped around so he could see Andan's face. There was another row of small triangular tattoos across their ashen green cheeks. Their dark violet eyes glistened in the light of the monument. A small smile touched their lips as they watched Boba. They didn't seem to have aged much in the years since Galidraan, but he wasn't sure how long-lived Mirialans were.

"Will your son be staying?" Andan asked in airy whisper.

"Yes."

Andan's eyes closed once again and they pressed their lips together in a thin frown. They nodded soberly and shifted with slow, measured caution on the ground into a meditation pose. Only after did they open their eyes and look to Boba.

"I am glad to have met you, son of Jango," Andan said with a melancholy, almost wistful smile. "Your father has suffered much. I'm ashamed to say that I played a role in that. I knew one day he would come for me. I spent as many years as I could trying to atone for my mistakes. It brings me a measure of comfort knowing that he has you."

Boba cradled his healed arm, staring at the Jedi with a mixed expression. Jango had prepared the boy for a fight, not for a monologue. He wasn't sure if they were vying for sympathy, but they would receive none from either Jango or Boba. When Andan turned his head to Jango, a single tear spilled down their cheek.

"For what it's worth, I regret the events of Galidraan."

"The events?" Jango spat. "The massacre you mean." Rage boiled quickly up his neck, nearly blinding him as his head flared with heat. He'd almost bought it, that maybe the remorse Andan felt was genuine, that maybe Jedi could actually feel something. He growled through his clenched jaw as he fired his blasters. One bolt to the chest, the other to the head. "Your regrets are worth nothing to me," he said as Andan slumped forward, the blaster shots smoking holes through their body. Jango twirled his blasters as he holstered them, then looked to his son. Boba stared at the corpse, glancing down at his arm.

"It's time to go, Boba."

His son nodded and swallowed heavily, giving the body a wide berth as he walked over to his father. Jango held out his hand and Boba took it. They left Andan where he fell. Someone would stumble across the Jedi eventually, there was no sense in hiding the body to make it more difficult. It's not like Jedi came to visit the memorial often. Why would they need to remember the names of their fallen when the moths could do it for them?

"They didn't seem very bad, buir," Boba said as they exited the gardens and skirted the facilities towards the ship bays. "They fixed my arm."

Jango paused long enough to scoop Boba up in his arms. He lengthened his stride as he carried the boy. "Even bad people can do good things every once in a while," Jango replied. "And sometimes no matter how much good they do, the bad thing they did before will always outweigh the good. Understand?"

"I think so."

Boba didn't sound convinced, but what five year old would. One day he would understand. As they reached Slave I, Jango set Boba down at last. "Go start the pre checks while I talk to Cye'ba." That seemed to brighten up the boy as he dashed up the boarding ramp. He followed after, taking out his comm. He debated how to contact her for a moment before settling on sending a message. He wasn't sure how far along she was in her search. He didn't want to show off or, he thought with a smirk, interrupt her time with Zam.

:: It's done. Sitrep when you can. ::

Mando'a Translations:

Buir - Father/mother/parent

Mando'ade - Mandalorians, lit. Children of Mandalore

Aliit - Clan / Family

Cye'ba - Aunt Cye

Ba'vodu - Aunt/Uncle