Boba Fett_ Pursuit Part 3

"'Probably'?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "More like definitely."

He looked past Boba to Slave I's starboard wing. "You took quite a hit,"

he said, then added grudgingly, "but you put up a good fight, too. Asajj is a deadly enemy. Not many have survived an encounter with her. You were lucky - Boba Fett."

Now it was Boba's turn to look surprised.

His body tensed instinctively, ready to spring into action if he had to.

But Anakin only continued to regard him with the same cool, appraising gaze. "Yes. I know who you are - and have for a long time. My Master, Obi- Wan Ken.o.bi, has spoken of you."

Boba felt his stomach clench. Obi-Wan Ken.o.bi! Boba and his father had escaped from the hated Jedi back on their homeworld, Kamino. Could Ken.o.bi have been the one to order Wat Tambor's a.s.sa.s.sination?

Boba looked warily at Anakin. He half-expected to hear the young Jedi speak of Boba's failure to capture the Separatist mastermind.

Instead, Anakin was looking at Boba thoughtfully, as though he were a chess piece on a playing board.

"Yes, I have heard of you," Anakin went on at last. "And I have seen you, as well - back there on Xagobah, when you saved Glynn-Beti's apprentice. That was brave. And reckless." The slightest smile tugged at Anakin's mouth, and he released his hold on his lightsaber. "Nice work."

"Thanks." Boba felt himself relax a little. He turned, glancing under Slave I to see what damage there was that he had missed.

"It mostly seems to be the wing," said Anakin. He strode past Boba and crouched to inspect it more closely. "See here? Looks like the struts were weakened to begin with. And this - "

Boba watched, amused, as Anakin crawled under his s.h.i.+p. The Jedi pulled a small toolkit from his tunic.

" - this really should have been taken care of a long time ago. How long has it been since you've had this s.h.i.+p serviced?"

Boba shrugged. He thought of Qinx, his mechanic back on Tatooine, and Boba's longstanding request to have Slave l's s.h.i.+eld upgraded and his exterior weapons systems overhauled. "Too long, probably," he answered.

"That's for sure." Anakin shook his head. He ran his hand along one of the s.h.i.+p's thruster nozzles. "You've done a lot of the work on this yourself, haven't you?"

"I've made some improvements."

"Quite a few, it looks like." Anakin flashed Boba a rare look of admiration. "This is good work. It's a good s.h.i.+p. And you're lucky the damage wasn't worse. I can probably get this wing straightened out without too much trouble."

Anakin hesitated. Probably wondering what Obi-Wan would say of this.

A Jedi should never let down his guard, Boba answered in his head.

A Jedi's loyalty is to the Order first, then to the Republic....

Abruptly, Anakin's keen blue gaze fixed on Boba. "Don't try anything, Fett. I've got full backup from Glynn-Beti." Anakin ran a hand along his lightsaber. "Not that I'd need her help."

Boba ignored the implied threat. "I've got work to do myself," he said roughly. Grimacing, he touched his wounded shoulder.

"You better take care of that," said Anakin before turning his attention back to Slave I.

"And my body armor," said Boba, more to himself than the Jedi. He started back up the gangway to his s.h.i.+p. Suddenly he halted, frowning.

"Did you hear that?"

"Huh?" Anakin's m.u.f.fled voice drifted from behind the starboard wing.

Boba stood on alert, listening. His keen eyes took in the barren moonscape: pale reddish sand carved into funnels and outcroppings like ruined towers or the remains of other, wasted s.p.a.cecraft. Between large craters, smaller tunnels yawned, black as the star-scattered sky beyond.

But there was no sign of life. No one but Boba Fett and Anakin Skywalker moved in this desolate place.

"Nothing," Boba said. "Must've just been my imagination."

He went back into Slave I. Inside, all was silent, save for the sound of Anakin hammering and working away at the battered wing.

Gingerly, Boba tended to his injured shoulder, cleaning the wound and putting on fresh bandages.

Then he set about repairing his body armor.

Ygabba and Gab'borah had given it to him back on Tatooine - Jango Fett's own Mandalorian body armor and combat boots. The armor had been damaged by General Grievous, but it could be fixed. Boba examined it carefully, then got out his own repair kit and touch-up paint.

It felt good to be fixing his armor. Somehow, it made it feel more like it was Boba's own.

It is mine, he thought, smoothing out a jagged spot where Grievous'

energy blast had charred the plasteel. Then he began repainting the armor, a slightly darker color than that favored by Jango. As he did, he made a few other adjustments, tightening here, lengthening there.

Boba knew his father would be proud of him. And he also knew that his father would understand.

Boba was his own man now. He had accepted Jango Fett's legacy. Not just his helmet and armor, not just the book Jango had left him, but Jango's wisdom and skill, his discipline and determination. All of these things had made Boba who he was now One of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy. But Boba wasn't content with that. As he shrugged into his armor and fastened it across his chest, he thought of Jabba the Hutt. Jabba paid well - for a Hutt, anyway - but Boba wanted to strike out on his own.

It's time, he thought, pulling on his helmet. He straightened and looked at the reflection in a mirror.

A pang shot through him at what he saw there. He felt loss and love and grief, but also pride.

I look like my father, he thought. I wish... I wish he could see me. He would be proud of me. I know that.

The mirror showed a tall, broad-shouldered figure, face masked by the battle helmet; but his bearing and strength plain for anyone to see Boba Fett.

And he wasn't merely Jabba's prize a.s.sa.s.sin. Soon, Boba Fett would be the best bounty hunter the galaxy had known - Ever.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

He strode back outside to check on Skywalker's repairs. In the doorway he paused again - That sound, he thought. He listened, all his senses on edge. But the sound, whatever it was, had once again escaped him. He turned and hurried down to the moon's surface alongside his s.h.i.+p.

"How's it going?" Boba asked. He stooped to peer at Slave I's wing.

"Just about done." Anakin wiped a spot of grease from his cheek and took a step back. "What do you think?"

Boba ran his hand across the wing, whistling softly. "Wow. You can hardly tell it was damaged at all."

"That's right," said Anakin with pride.

But somehow, Skywalker's pride no longer looked so much like arrogance. It looked more like satisfaction, even happiness. For a moment he stood and admired his own work. Then he turned to Boba.

Now it was Anakin's turn to be impressed. "Your armor looks good,"

he said admiringly. "Your helmet, too."

Boba shrugged. "In my line of work, you need it." "Yeah," said Anakin with a nod. " I can see that." For a moment the two young men stood in silence.

At last Boba said, "Thanks for helping me with the repairs on my s.h.i.+p. But I have an important job to do - "

"So do I." Anakin cut him off. "You violated Republic airs.p.a.ce back there on Xagobah. All unauthorized personnel automatically become detainees of the Republic. You're in my charge now."

Boba's hand twitched toward his blaster. Anakin's did the same with his lightsaber. His steely eyes remained fixed on Boba.

"There's no point in resisting," Skywalker said calmly, though there was an edge of menace in his voice. "But I'll put in a good word for you - "

Boba's entire body tensed as he put himself into attack mode. Then he grimaced.

The injuries he'd sustained from Grievous were too great. Even as he moved, he could feel blood trickling from his wounded shoulder. The pain was excruciating - but he wouldn't let Skywalker know that.

" - after I bring you in for questioning," the Jedi finished. "I'm sure we can find a place for you to work within the Republic."

Boba's grimace deepened, though not from pain. No way! he thought.

Working for the Republic was not an option. Working for anyone, except himself, was not an option! Jabba the Hutt might pay his bounties, but no one set limits on Boba Fett.

Not Jabba. Not the Republic.

And definitely not Anakin Skywalker.

But how to get away from the Jedi? Boba looked at the desolate moonscape surrounding them. Dunes, craters, depthless holes like horrible empty eyes or mouths on the lunar surface. He would find no refuge there.

No help, either...

He tried desperately to come up with a plan.

If only I hadn't taken such a hit from Grievous! he thought. He flinched, recalling the encounter that had nearly killed him - that would have killed him, if Boba hadn't managed to use his wits to escape. He glanced at Anakin.

I could take him, if I wasn't injured, he thought grimly. And if he didn't have a Republic army at his beck and call! 1 could still take him... .

As though the young Jedi could read Boba's mind, Anakin said, "Don't even think of escape, Fett. You're no match for me. Glynn-Beti's troops.h.i.+p is nearby. I'll bring you there, and she'll decide what's to be done with you."

"No - " Boba took a step toward Anakin. Sky-walker's hand tightened around his weapon as Boba said, "I have a better idea."

Anakin regarded him suspiciously. "I warn you, if - "

"'If' nothing!" Boba snapped. "If you don't listen to me now, you're making a mistake."

Anakin's eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

The bounty hunter hesitated. Since his father's death, Boba had been sustained by two things. One was a burning rage to take vengeance on his father's murderer, Mace Windu.

The other was a secret that only Boba knew. It was something he had learned back when he was on the toxic planet, Raxus Prime. He had been brought there by the bounty hunter Aurra Sing. She had been hired to capture Boba, by someone known as "the Count."

The Count was in fact the deadly Separatist leader Count Dooku, enemy of the Republic. He was a former Jedi Master, who, like Boba, now hated the Jedi. Unlike Boba, Dooku had allied himself with the Separatists.

Yet only Boba knew that Count Dooku was the same person as the mysterious Tyra.n.u.s... the same Tyra.n.u.s who had first approached Jango Fett to become the source for the Republic's clone army...

The same Tyra.n.u.s who was therefore also helping the Republic!

Boba had kept this information secret from the Republic and the Jedi - until now. He had his Mandalorian armor, and his helmet. He had some of the most sophisticated weapons in the galaxy. And he had Slave I, the best s.h.i.+p in the galaxy.

But right now, he knew that none of these things was as valuable as what he knew about the Count. His knowledge of the Count's secret was also a weapon. And at the moment, it was a weapon more powerful than anything else Boba possessed. He drew himself up and stared coldly at Anakin Skywalker.

Knowledge is power, his father had taught him. Knowledge is a weapon - use it carefully, or pay the price!

As he gazed at the threatening young Jedi before him, Boba hoped his knowledge wouldn't kill him.

CHAPTER NINE.

Boba straightened and met Anakin's gaze.

"I have information vital to the safety of the Republic," Boba said.

Anakin stared at him in cold disbelief. "You what?"

"You heard me." Boba glared back at the Jedi. "What I know could mean the difference between the Republic's defeat - or ultimate victory."

Anakin's grasp on his weapon loosened, ever so slightly. "How do I know you're telling the truth?"

Boba shrugged. "You don't. But if I am, the Republic could have the knowledge it needs to defeat the Separatists. And if you don't make use of it, the Republic could be destroyed. Are you willing to take that chance?"

Boba watched Anakin carefully. Whatever this Jedi was, he wasn't a coward. Or stupid. Anakin shook his head.

"Why should I believe you? You're just a worthless bounty hunter!"

"Not just any bounty hunter!" retorted Boba. "Think about it. You said that Obi-Wan Ken.o.bi had spoken my name to you. Why would he bother telling you about me, unless I was important?"