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Part Time Job	By : dschinny Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 7157 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Star Wars movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Chapter 15 - Never call attention to yourself. (day 6)
Vau half guided, half supported her on the way back to Fett’s place. Tomoe was about to open her mouth and thank him sincerely but at that moment the front door slid open and her heart slammed into her chest. Jango opened, rolling up the sleeves of a washed out blue tunic. A small dark smile of revenge briefly played on Vau’s lips at the sight of the harsh dark circles under his leader’s eyes. “You don’t look so good today, Fett.” he said quietly in his deep, sepulchral voice, “You alright?”
Fett glanced blankly at her a moment then he nodded once towards her and motioned her inside, before speaking quietly to Vau in rapid Mando’a. Then both men briefly grabbed each other’s elbow, saying goodbye. When Fett turned his back on the door, the subject under discussion was already brushing her teeth in the bathroom like every day. Tomoe flipped her long raven hair casually to her back to keep it away from the sink, scooped up some water in her palms to drink and wash out her mouth then rinsed and dried her hands and face. Then she turned to face the mercenary hovering in the doorframe.
Jango had not expected to get emotionally involved, not to this extent. How dare she to act so unaffected? “Undress,” he hissed, his face void of emotions.
“Good morning to you, too, Master Fett.” She grabbed the hem of the tunic and pulled it over her head in a single swift movement, then threw it into his face. “Don’t worry, all the bruises you have inflicted on me are still in place, color of the day: glorious yellow,” she put on her educational voice and slipped down the loose pants to kick them off, turning a full circle with her arms held well away from her body. She would do what he said for some more hours, but never the way he preferred. Nothing ruffled his Spartan attitude as much as enjoyment and she had no need for further surprises. ‘Selective memory is a gift,’ she sighed and added “Fall-in is in half an hour. Little time to make yourself presentable.”
So she was still dejecting him, but he could easily ignore her sharp tongue. “Possibly.” Jango passed her the garment and then he suddenly slung his strong arms around her, lifting her off the ground to nuzzle the nape of her neck sensuously “Just making sure you are alright.” He put her down to frisk her thoroughly, the once over of his palms telling him that she had no external injuries. At least there was no blood sticking to his fingertips.
“No more treatment of sore spots, thank you,” While his attention was on her calves, she slipped the tunic back over her head. “Want me to prepare you a wet pack?”
“Who needs a wet pack?” Boba yawned from the doorway, blinking at the display.
“Somebody with a sleeping disorder,” she briefly supported herself on Jango’s shoulder and slunk around him, then picked up her pants and ruffled Boba’s hair on the way. “I’m out of here, don’t let it keep you up.”
Tomoe would wait for the Fetts to leave, do her gym, checking and eliminating whatever damages were hidden by Vau’s drug use. After breakfast there would be enough undisturbed time to prepare her weapon so she would be ready whenever Fett returned without his son. From the feel of his eyes piercing her back she assumed that he wasn’t done with her yet.
She could tell that she loved the adamant schedule of this place. It made people so very predictable and herself the only privileged being with spare time in... this sector of the galaxy? She just wondered if Mereel would send Skirata for a talk at all and if he would become a help or an obstacle. Killing Jango Fett was one thing, getting away another. Maybe she could hit two birds with one stone.

Jango used the lunch break to check the Slave I’s secure communications for a reply to his request. He went over the commented readout in the privacy of his helmet while returning to the afternoon’s ARCs training exercises. Strolling down the corridor seemingly absentminded, he gathered that first, she had managed to dish out a round lie without blushing and second, he could pride himself of getting her where he wanted - physically at least.
Kal Skirata sidled up with him, waited briefly for Jango to take off his bucket and transfer the bean-comlink into his ear. Then he got right to the point “I have a Null who tries to hide a sprained wrist, a knife phasing in and out of existance and a shadow that eggs me on to visit you. Would you believe in a connection?”
“None I could think of.” Jango shrugged his shoulders. All he had to offer was foodstuff that sliced itself while his son’s knife was a case for his workbench... where he had mended it last night to put his mind elsewhere. “I gave Boba a leave of yesterday’s afternoon exercises which he didn’t spend in the company of your Nulls.”
“I may be old and hearing impaired, but I’m not blind.” Kal enjoyed watching Jango squirm a bit. “You have taken on more than you can handle.”
“Why do I do anything? Kal, it is not for you to second-guess me but to trust me and more importantly follow my orders.”
“When did I ever let you down? Loyalty is a double edged blade.”
“I expect you to solve the problems with your batch on your own, period. There is no problem, but please, come over after dinner and convince yourself.”

Jango re-scheduled Boba to spend the day away from his slave until he made sure she was in line. They ate dinner in the mess hall with the other instructors. They were on their way home while Skirata’s attention was required by some commando-subjects and the unruly Nulls who waited all day for a possibility to grill their old man.
Coming home, Jango spotted Tomoe sitting in his easy chair, doing exercises on the notepad sitting on her lap. “Have you eaten already?” – “No.” – “Then do so now.” She went into the kitchen, breaking off a piece of a food-board that was about as tasty as cold mochi, but the texture lacked any comfort. “We will have a guest after dinner.” Jango informed her.
It would do her no good to look not at least a little surprised. “Again? Did you lose your job lately or do you expect me to put Boba through college?”
“College?” Boba felt like standing on the borderline of the field, watching others play meshgeroya.
“Shut up, Cin’ciri” Jango huffed, “I want you to treat our guest with utmost politeness and respect,..” He ran a fingertip along her neck and the yellowish bruise spreading over her collarbone “and let your hair down.” Whenever needed or not, her raven tresses would cover up any imperfections he had inflicted on her.
“Of course, Master Fett,” from her it sounded like an insult, “never expected anything else.” She went to brush out her hairs. Not that a single one would fall tonight after her preparations. What she wasn’t prepared for was the man who strolled in some moments later.

This time, Boba left it to his father to answer the door, clutching the hem of Tomoe’s tunic briefly. “Hush.... I slipped Mereel his knife during the morning gym,” he whispered then scooted into the corner seat for quiet observation.
Despite the fact that Kal Skirata stood only slightly above her at 5’8” and dragged his leg, his presence and charisma seemed to make him almost as big as Vau. His worn out civilian jacket from tan bantha leather and plain brown slacks could not fool Tomoe about his forty or even fifty years of experience as a soldier.
“Me'vaar ti gar?” Skirata focused briefly on his leader then looked past Fett to face the female extra complication who had turned to face the hallway and now bowed to him. The woman did not look in bad shape as far as it could be told by looking at an oval face surrounded by a distracting luxurious curtain of black hair. A set of Fett’s clothing covered her to fingertips and toes. At least she was not in a bad condition for somebody who had fought against Jango Fett and lost.
"Naas." Jango stepped out of the way “K'olar lo.”
Skirata moved a couple of steps into the room as if it were booby-trapped. Something about the man looked primal, feral and almost lupine, like a grizzled wolf with not an ounce of fat on him. Despite the limp, there was some kind of inner grace and strength that alluded Tomoe’s mind about him. Those blue eyes of his were the eyes of someone who had killed so many he had stopped counting, a man who had done a hundred crimes, who had loved, who had lost, who had lived, and who had died.
“Re'mhi sheber bal pirur jatla kurshi' trattokla' shig” Jango proposed, observing Tomoe pour tea silently and without ever lifting her gaze to one of them.
Skirata sat down “I’m Kal, ma’am,” he addressed her directly, “What’s your name?” She didn’t meet his eyes but looked off slightly off to the side Jango had taken. “I’m Tomoe, sir.” Her voice was low and melodic. If she was terrified, she was good at hiding it behind a marble face decorated with a tiny smile. There could be anything behind it or nothing. It was intimidating and distracting and Kal was ambushed by his own unexpected hostility towards her.
Tomoe felt him suddenly switch from a loveable rogue to a creature of pure ice. “Apologies, sir.” Without another word, she took refuge in the routine of her movements. Kal leaned back in the chair. So she wasn’t completely insensitive after all, but he still wondered how this woman had managed to addle Fett’s brain. Jango let out a sigh and started conversation in Mando’a which she didn’t understand well enough; nevertheless she picked up two names: Mereel and Vau.
Boba stood and went to his room, returning with a box of scrap-pieces. He silently retrieved Tomoe’s hand and pulled her over to the far corner of the room. They sat down cross-legged and he started explaining and dismantling a circuit then passed it to Tomoe who put it back together. Kal could tell she was friendly, quick-witted and ambidextrous around the boy, the two sharing a private laugh for a moment.
“K'olar, Cin’ciri!” She cocked her head at Jango’s harsh voice calling the name he had given her “Ke duum kaysh haa'taylir gar taab.” He drawled.
‘Foot... see’ she picked up, briefly looking from Jango to Kal ‘What does he want?’ she stood to her feet, her gaze locked on her toes. “Ni nu suvar ani?”
“Show Kal your foot. The left one.” Tomoe lifted the hem of her oversized fatigue pants. “Closer.” He watched her tiptoe over to Skirata and then set her foot lightly on the chair’s armrest, revealing the anklet. “I told you leaving my home unnoticed was impossible since I monitor her location as well as her vital signs.”
“I see... and you train her.” Kal’s voice dripped sarcasm. His gaze wandered over her ankle and hands to settle on her eyes. She dropped her gaze and looked away, as though sparing him her condition. “Don’t you know it’s impolite not to look me straight in the eye?” the older mercenary asked calmly. From this perspective his open jacket revealed surprisingly broad shoulders and a light grey holster holding a gun of sorts.
An involuntary prickle of coldness ran down her spine. Tomoe felt that he was a dangerously perceptive man, but in the moment, she had no sense of animosity directed to her. She exhaled and emptied her mind. “I’m sorry.” She sneaked a peek at Jango then lifted her gaze slowly to Skirata’s face. “I’m still learning.” Her unblinking gaze still locked on his, she put her foot down and took a step back.
Behind her, Boba was observing Tomoe’s unease. ‘But she had wanted to talk to Kal? I can arrange that.’ He dropped his stuff back into the box soundly, “Dad, can I go to bed early today?” he inquired with a heartfelt yawn, “I didn’t sleep well last night.”
Jango arched a brow. “Sure. Cin’ciri will tuck you in.” Then he realized that last night’s argument had been hissed but not completely silent…‘Oh fierfeck...’
“Please, dad...” Boba complained “I like your bedtime stories so much better… just a five minutes one?” he begged.
“Agreed, get ready for bed.” He watched his son scurry off to the bathroom.
Skirata paused, raking his short grey hair with a bemused smile at Tomoe. “You are telling bedtime stories?” She looked him squarely in the eye now, no fear and no distrust in her gaze when she simply nodded ‘yes’.
“Entertain our guest for a moment, Cin’ciri.” Jango followed his son and shut the bedroom door behind him, wondering just how much gentle reassurance was needed.
Skirata remembered his social graces and picked up the thread for her, “What about?”
“Since I have no local fairytales to read, I started telling myths from my home world.” Tomoe dropped her marble mask the instant Jango got out of sight. “What do you tell Mereel and Prudii to get them to sleep?”
‘...Results...’ her withdrawn behavior was obviously related to Jango, but his authority over her ended at the doorframe “We usually do some recap.” He noticed she had an inner fire and spirit that burned brightly underneath the cold act. “It’s a laugh a minute, this job.”
“They were so high strung yesterday I can imagine you had a hard time. How is Mereel’s wrist?”
“Slightly sprained.” Kal said quietly.
“I’m sorry about that. In the first moment we didn’t realize just who we were, but fortunately everybody got back to normal as quickly. I hear that Boba has given Mereel’s knife back already?”
“Yes. But I worry more about the distraction,” he paused to make sure she understood what he was saying. “You know I’ll protect them come what may, don’t you?
“It’s good to know you care,” her lips parted slightly she but would say no more.
“We understand each other. Does Jango know?” He inquired calmly.
“His way to jump to conclusions scares me. It will not happen again so he doesn’t need to know.”
“I see.” He had no idea what had set her off, but he could smell the fear of her body. Nevertheless she moved in to top up the cups, her hands unshaken. Noting a braid-like imprint on the edge of her left hand, Skirata snapped into action instantly, catching her wrist neatly.
“Please don’t touch...” her voice was low and placating, “Jango will lose his mind again.” She tried to back away, her face all wide-eyed shock. Skirata used the momentum to get up from the chair, quickly and efficiently closing in on her. He pressed her against the edge of the table, and then threw her to the ground with a sound thud. Feeling her tense against him he instantly knew she was merely minimizing damage instead of using her full potential to put up a fight… Or had his instinct betrayed him after all?
Pinning her face down, he frisked her pockets for the origin of the mark “Where is it?” Skirata hissed and dropped a wicked three-sided knife from his right sleeve, showing it to her before cutting through her waistband smoothly. “What do you mean, sir?” Her voice was detached to the point of indifference. Holding the knife into the hollow at the base of her skull, he pulled a long thin black rope from her left sleeve just when Jango sidled in. “This.”
“Problem, Kal?” Jango leaned against the wall casually.
“I would have preferred to stay out of it, but you are pressing it on me. You picked a pet as dangerous as Mird, but less loyal.” Half kneeling on top of her, Skirata looped one end of the rope over an edge of his knife. The well honed blade failed cutting it on the first try. He gave the material a closer look. The garrotte’s slightly elastic structure came from a braiding as intricate as a keldabian knot work. He passed it to Jango.
“Where did she get that from?” Jango turned the rope between his fingertips.
Skirata gathered his captive’s hair and sliced through it, throwing the black tresses at his leader. “From her own body... strengthened with a thin copper wire... braided with knowledge and skill. She’s mandokarla.”
A slow smile spread across her face and lit her eyes in madness. “Have some dignity, just kill me already! Stop wasting my time!”
Skirata had seen it too often. “His decision,” he rejected her request levelly and sat up, the tip of the knife trailing the side of her neck and around the now visible bite mark on her shoulder, “If you keep this up, Jango, she will kill you one day. Deal with it now.” He raised an eyebrow at Fett, all he needed was to hear his leader’s word.
Jango swatted down to get into her restricted frame of view “Lying again to me about your education? I need to know the truth about certain matters if we have any hope of getting along.”
"Don’t tell me about honor. I don’t want to get along with your ways. I WANT MY LIFE BACK!”
“Oh, really?” Jango chuckled and brushed the shortened strands from her face. “All is fair in love and war, the sooner you learn that, the better off you will be, my dear,” he chuckled “Do you honestly think, Cin’ciri, that killing me will bring back your life?”
“It will efficiently stop you from making my life and other’s more miserable.”
Skirata shook his head “Mando'ad draar digu… Do you plan to sleep in your armor the rest of your life?”
“Do you think I have any more trouble to subdue her than you, old man?” Jango dismissed.
“I’m a slow learner.” Tomoe lifted her head just enough to spit in Jango’s face. “Deal with it, hut’uun.”
Skirata glanced at them and half sighed, “This is exactly what I did not need.” He said exasperated, spotting Boba huddled in the doorway. The small pyjama-clad figure clutched a blanket to his chest. “You’ve gone jare'la, both of you.” Fett had broken something and didn’t know how to fix it.
“How do you expect me to respect you when you behave like an animal, Cin’ciri?” Fett wiped his face and calmly and spoke with quiet, detached confidence. “We need more information. She has been lying about her past from the beginning.” A brief smile played along his lips, “As you know, I have some interesting ways of getting people to…” he paused, “Open up and reveal the truth. Once she has no surprises left, Vau can use his brainwashing agent on her.”
“I already gathered all I need to know, Jango.” Kal reminded him “Without my help she would have throttled you in your sleep and you know that. I’m going to collect that dept.”
Jango sighed “What do you want?” he inquired rather dourly.
“We are going to conduct a fair investigation here today. The outcome of which will determine many things.” Kal leaned on her holding her firmly in place. She was going nowhere. It was both reassuring and frightening at the same time.
“Agreed. Let’s call in Vau.” Jango got up and turned to speak into his comlink. His tense tone had dropped, now he sounded just tired.
Skirata nodded; Fett had said what he hoped he would. “Now,” he stood up to his full height again, absentmindedly smoothed back down his bristled grey hair and continued in a completely composed manner.
Tomoe pulled her feet under her and got up slowly. She had run out of ideas for the moment and she wondered what Kal had up his sleeve besides that knife.
Some minutes later, Vau walked in as casually as possible for a man dressed in full black armor. He just sat drawn and silent on the desk, his long fingers steepled, his tiger eyes half lidded, just the smallest of twitches to his strong jaw any indication of the mixed emotions inside him.

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Part Time Job

Chapter 15 - Never call attention to yourself. (day 6)