Part 14 (1/2)
She won't remember tomorrow, Grade mouthed at him.
Fett kicked down the door in his mind. ”Thirty-eight years.” Get it over with. He even looked Sintas straight in the eye, although she couldn't see him. ”And I was your husband. I'm Boba Fett.”
He counted to three, like timing a det and getting ready to fling himself flat just before the blast wave reached him. But it never came.
Sintas's eyes moved from side to side as if she was searching. Her expression was almost beatific as some realization dawned on her.
”Who carbonited me?”
”I don't know. Yet.”
”But you found me.”
”Yeah.”
”You found me.”
”We found you.” There was no point giving Sintas the wrong idea. He owed her more than that. ”Mirta did all the work.”
”I don't remember, ”Sintas said. ”I don't remember any-thing. But if you came for me-after all that time, you were still looking...”
Fett parted his lips to explain that it wasn't quite like that, but Mirta held up a warning finger. She doesn't need to know that right now.
He stopped in his tracks.
”You're going to be fine, ”he said. ”I'll come back later.”
It was a tactical withdrawal. When Fett turned, Beviin was standing in the doorway with his arms folded. He stepped back to let Fett pa.s.s, and then followed him down the pa.s.sage through to the front of the farmhouse, where Dinua and Jintar were having breakfast with their kids in the kitchen, in a world of their own and clearly delighted to be together again. Fett caught a s.n.a.t.c.h of their conversation; Jintar was discussing his plans for a new work-shop, so he obviously wasn't planning on more mercenary contracts for a while. Some people managed family life ef-fortlessly even in the most trying conditions.
”I could take the Jedi off your hands today, ”Beviin suggested.
”Unless you want to be elsewhere.”
”Sooner I kill her idea that I'm some devoted husband, the better, ”said Fett. ”Just makes it harder for her when she finally gets the full picture.”
He reached the front entrance, but Medrit was blocking it. He was big enough to do that. Medrit had been born solid and tall, but years of pounding metal as an armor-smith had added prodigious muscles to his frame.
”Wait, ”Medrit said imperiously. ”No sparring with jetiise until you're properly dressed.” He crooked a soot-stained finger at Fett and led him to his workshop. ”Heads will not roll. Okay?”
Laid out on the bench was a set of armor plates, the mid-green paint still unmarked. It was a common color for Mandalorians; it happened to be Fett's color, too.
”Might as well make the most of the new beskar deposits.” Medrit picked up the breastplate and twirled it between his hands. ”I said you should ditch that durasteel armor, didn't I? Here's your proper beskar'gam. Wear it in case the Jedi gets lucky. She'll need to hack away with her jetii'kad for a week to dent this.”
”Humor him, ”Beviin said. ”He made a collar section specially...”
Fett didn't plan on testing the beskar'gam in earnest, but the collar intrigued him. It was a near-circular band that hinged open and protected the neck between the helmet and gorget plate. If his father had worn one, he would probably have survived Mace Windu's decapitating lightsaber blow. Fett slipped it on and rolled his head to test the range of movement in it.
”You think I'm going to spend my time fighting Jaina Solo, do you?”
Fett submitted to having some plates swapped out. ”Plenty more ways to train her to hunt her brother than wearing myself out.”
”If I had my way, you'd be wearing greaves, too. You ask for trouble, Mand'alor.”
”It doesn't look like mine. Too new.”
”Okay, you want your dents in it? I'll paint dents on it if you want to look roughy-toughy. It's beskar. It doesn't dent.”
Mirta's reminder that he was an ungrateful shabuir wormed into his head. ”It's good, Medrit. Thanks.”
Beviin helped him attach the rest of the plates. The new helmet-he'd sort that later, himself. The durasteel one would do for today. He swung his arms a few times and ac-customed himself to the extra weight before replacing his jetpack and Wookiee braids, and then set off for the hangar that he'd earmarked as a training area.
Beviin followed him.
”You want to watch the show?” said Fett. ”I'm just going to see what skills she's got first.”
”I don't trust Jedi, Bob'ika. Not that I don't think you can handle her.”
”We all trusted Kubariet during the war.”
”He was a different kind of Jedi, may he find rest in the manda.”
Beviin was a traditionalist; he might not have believed literally in the collective oversoul, but he wished fervently for its existence. He patted the pommel of his beskad. ”But I'll give the woman the benefit of the doubt.”
Jaina was waiting for them in the barn, looking very small and dejected as she sat on an upturned pail. She flinched when Fett approached her; he was so used to getting that reaction that he thought nothing of it until he realized the look on her face wasn't alarm but concern.
”Something wrong?” she asked.
Fett felt naked. She could sense anxiety clinging to him. He was sure that he wasn't letting Sintas get to him, but Jaina seemed to smell trouble anyway.
”Family problems, ”he said.
”Yeah, tell me about it...” She stood up. ”Your granddaughter?”
There was no reason not to tell her. Everyone in Keldabe knew anyway. The shock might teach her a lesson about not letting anything distract you from the task in hand.
”My ex-wife, ”he said. ”She's just shown up after being carbonited for thirty-eight years. And she doesn't know your brother killed her daughter - yet.”
”If you'd rather be with her now...”
”We've got work to do.”
His eyes met Jaina's, and he saw a shared pain he wasn't expecting.
Both of them had families torn apart by tragedy; both had harsh duties ahead. For a heartbeat, they looked at each other, and he could have sworn there was some sympathy, some real compa.s.sion in her. He didn't like that at all.
Jaina drew her lightsaber with slow caution as if she didn't want to make anyone too jumpy. ”Want to see what I can do?”
Fett's mind emptied instantly of all superfluous thought. Combat was cleansing; he'd done this so often that it was almost a form of meditation. He was in his natural element again, freed from the alien world of relations.h.i.+ps he'd never learned to handle.