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The Fett Dynasty II: Siege of Orri Prime	By : WLTDNFADED Category: Star Wars (All) > General Views: 3810 -:- 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.

Chapter List
- 7
- 8
- 9
Howdy, folks.

I know, I know, long time, too long! I have no excuse except that I have just been extremely busy and somewhat uninspired. And again, I decided to cut this chapter into two separate halves, just because I REALLY wanted to get this posted already. Enjoy.
Ivy

Episode 2

Chapter 5

Misguided Angel
�Misguided angel hanging over me,

Heart like a Gabriel, pure and white as ivory,

Soul like a Lucifer, black and cold as a piece of lead,

Misguided angel, love you till I�m dead.�

Cowboy Junkies
It was one of those bright, clear, and invigorating days on Coruscant. Now was the time of the Coruscant autumn, a time where sophisticated tourists from all over the galaxy would descend upon the city-planet�s posh upper levels and take in all the music, art, theatre, and culture the galactic capitol had to offer. Every hotel and inn of notable regard was completely booked. Restaurant reservations were filled for weeks. Dance clubs and cabarets never shut their doors or proclaimed �last call�. There was a saying amongst the social elite of the galaxy��There is nothing quite like autumn on Coruscant.�

As Han Solo lay on the huge bed, he found himself thinking of that saying, and had to agree. This was his first time experiencing the high tourist season on Coruscant. He watched the denser-than-usual air traffic zip by the chamber�s open window. He could hear the late afternoon commotion rise from the sky streets and platforms, listening to tens of thousands of human and alien fops and fashionistas shop, lunch at cafes, mingle, and flirt with the small armies of paparazzi roaming about. The breeze that blew through the light gossamer curtains and over his bare body had a sharp, crisp tang, unusually devoid of fumes or pollution. The air was a welcome change to the stifling, putrid haze that passed for a breathable atmosphere on Nar Shaddaa. Cool and refreshing...it felt good.

Hell, he just felt damn good, period. No, more than good�he felt� happy. Peaceful. Alive. And probably for the first time ever in his whole life, he felt, truly and deeply, loved.

He carefully slid his free arm behind the pillow to prop up his head and allow him a better gaze at the nude form of his sleeping wife. Leia lay curled around him, her slender leg wrapped around his, her arm draped across his middle, and her head on his chest as she dozed. The low light of the late afternoon sun brought out the reddish highlights in her lush long hair as it rippled free across her body and his in waves of bronzed mahogany. He listened to her soft breathing and watched the subtle rise and fall of her back. With his eyes he followed the delicate arch of her brow, down the curve of her cheek to the corner of her lips, which seemed curled in a subtle smile of slumbering bliss. Again, the flawless ivory of her skin, the richness of her hair, and the overall soft perfection of her slight yet marvelously curvaceous body struck him in awe.

Damn, Sohe the thought to himself as he lightly combed his fingers through Leia�s hair, what the hell did you do to deserve this? He chuckled silently as the answer to his own question slowly crept into his mind�

You grew up.

His thoughts drifted back to his few weeks on the Smuggler�s Moon. The fall of Coruscant and the establishment of the New Republic had had absolutely no effect on the Nar Shaddaa he remembered: It was still the dirty, grimy, smelly, and treacherous den of filth it had always been�which, Han had thought up until very recently, was all part of its charm. But rest and recreation was not Han�s prime reason for venturing to the Smuggler�s Moon. Frankly, he had taken an enormous risk even setting orbit in the Nal Hutta perimeter�much less setting foot on the Moon itself�but it was a risk that had to be taken, whether he liked it or not. He had to make sure the bounty on his head was null and void. He had to close that chapter of his former life. He had to deal with Talon Karrde.

Karrde, a fellow Corellian and smuggler kingpin extraordinaire in his own right, had swiftly (if somewhat begrudgingly) absorbed many of Jabba the Hutt�s underworld dealings into his own operation almost before the Hutt�s repulsive corpse had grown cold. Even though Jabba�s contract on Solo had been based more on personal vendetta rather than official business, it could easily have been transferred into Karrde�s hands. Han now considered himself fully retired from smuggling and the underworld in general�he was now a military commander, public figure, and a married man. He simply couldn�t take the risk of the past coming back to haunt him�or more accurately, the past coming and blasting him to bits or hauling him to some hole in the ground of some back-ass planet where Leia, Luke, nor Chewbacca could never find him�

The meeting with Talon Karrde had not only been swift and relatively painless, but also proved to be somewhat beneficial to both parties. Not only had Karrde relinquished the price on Han�s head (�I don�t deal with subcontractors�if I want someone, I have more than enough good people who can find him. And I have no reason to want you,� was Karrde�s reply), but he and Han actually worked out a �deal� of sorts. The transaction was quite simple�Karrde agreed to supply the fledgling New Republic information on various Imperial proceedings that he would come across time and again in exchange for the New Republic politely �turning its head� in regard to various actions of his own operation.

Although he knew he would catch hell from Her Excellency for such a bargain, Han had accepted the offer. The Republic still needed all the help it could get, and it didn�t really matter at this point in time where it came from. Even if he no longer worked in the underworld, it was good to still have friends there.

Han frowned a tad, still stroking Leia�s hair, as he recalled a significant portion of his and Karrde�s conversation:

�As a token of our newly founded partnership, I�ll throw you a freebie, Solo: Watch out for Black Sun.�

�Black Sun? I thought they collapsed after Xizor bought the farm.�

�You wish. They�ve regrouped and they�re growing again. And guess whose Supreme Vigo.�

�Who?�

�Czethros.�

�Czethros! That one-eyed maniac? How the hell did he pull off that coup?�

�Apparently with a lot of cash and a lot of assassins. He�s been hiding behind a few legitimate fronts, including Xizor Transport and some newly acquired casinos on Ord Mantell. But he�s still running the major drug, weapon, and pleasure slave rings throughout the galaxy. Hell, he�s practically cornered the spice and ryll market alone.�

�Doesn�t sound any different than when the Xizor ran the show. So why should I be concerned?�

�Because he�s got all of Xizor�s greed and none of his class. He�d sell his own mother into the skin trade if the price were right. More than that, he�s a loose cannon. I get the feeling he�s not going to be happy sitting in Xizor�s shadow for long. He wants power. And he�ll deal with anyone to get it.�

�You mean the Empire?�

�Who else? I just thought I�d warn you. Keep your eyes open.�

�Thanks, Talon.�

�Jabba didn�t do right by you, Solo. Too bad you�ve gone legit�I could use someone like you. You�re a good man. Oh, aongrongratulations on your wedding. Nice catch.�

�How�d you know? We haven�t told anyone.�

�You think I only keep my eye on the Imps?�

So there it was. The concern regarding Black Sun was nothing compared to the relief he felt. Han could breathe a little easier now. He was free.

Yeah sure, he and Chewie had goofed off for a time on Nar Shaddaa. They�d �tied a few ones on�, checked out the latest swag on the black market, scored a few bottles of illicit liqueurs, bought a few spare parts and tinkered with the Falcon�s systems; typical guy stuff for him and Chewie. And, well, then there was Sarro�s sabaac game! He still couldn�t believe his luck: It sure as hell wasn�t his skill, because he so drunk at the time he could barely see his hand. He was absolutely busting to tell Leia about the booty he had won, but he wanted to tell her at home and in person�

Hell, he had just wanted to come home to Leia, period.

The drinking, the carousing, the gambling�it just wasn�t what it used to be. Although it seemed to all his old smuggling cronies that he was the same cocky, irresponsible pirate he had always been, the truth was that for every moment of every day on the Smuggler�s Moon, Han Solo missed his wife. He missed her most of all at night, when that day�s carousing had come to an end and he would crawl into his hard�and empty�bunk aboard the Falcon. And when he finally did manage to fall asleep after staring up at the bulkhead for hours, he would often startle himself awake when reaching for Leia and finding nothing but a cold sheet next to him�

But it was that odd confrontation with the masked stranger on Libation Row that made Han realize that he was, indeed, a changed man. He surmised that the stranger was obviously some kind of mercenary simply by the finesse of his combat skills�Han, despite his intoxication, had been much impressed by the stranger�s speed and his ability to take Chewbacca�s body block like that. But his thoughts had kept creeping back to the toy blaster he had picked up for the stranger: He had been buying gifts for his family! On the Smuggler�s Moon, of all places! And the more Han thought about that stranger, the more he felt�well, envious.

Han had never before thought himself as �father� material, but he now found himself changing his mind about that: If a masked blaster-slinger could manage to care for a family, why not him? No longer was he the wandering drifter with no roots or ties. He was no longer the ever-struggling smuggler waiting for that big haul that would set him free from �the life�. Not only did he now have a home�and a rather nice one at that�but he actually had someone waiting for him there. Some one he loved, someone he respected, and someone with whom he found he really, truly, wanted to have a family. And, of course, the fact that she was President of the New Republic didn�t hurt either�

He let another night of restless sleep pass when he finally called for Chewbacca to meet him in the Falcon�s cockpit. �Chewie, let�s pack up and get off this rock. I want to go home.�

To which Chewbacca had replied with an exasperated grunt, *I was wondering when the hell you would wise up.*

He promptly messaged Leia, telling her that they were coming back a few days early, and had been thrilled when Leia said that she would delegate her grueling responsibilities to Winter and other assistants so she could spend the whole day with him upon his arrival.

But the homecoming had not exactly started as a scene from a holo-romance. The minute he had walked through their door, Leia�s behavior was more like that of a visiting luminary than of a newlywed bride: Hell, she�d barely kissed him hello. She seemed cool, distant, and held their conversation to polite, almost diplomatic chitchat, nothing more. But more than that, she looked tired, distraught. Han immediately wondered he�d done to tick her off while he had been gone�

But as they sat over his homecoming lunch, her detachment had disintegrated into outright anxiety, an emotion that did not flatter Leia Organa well at all. He had watched her drop several utensils on the floor and twist her gold bond-ring so neurotically that her finger had begun to glow an unhealthy bluish hue. By the time dessert had been served, the long, uncomfortable silence that he had been enduring (save for the clanking of the service droids, which wasn�t helping his mood any) finally forced him to the breaking point. His voice was harsher than he would have liked when he snapped, �Kesh, Leia! For the love of Kashyyk, will you PLEASE tell me what the hell is wrong?�

It was then she burst into tears. It was only the second time in the entire time he had known her that she had cried in his presence, the first being that night before the Battle of Endor And like that night on Endor, he found himself becoming even angrier because� he had no clue as to what to do.

Desperately trying to compose herself, she suddenly blurted, �All right, I�ll tell you�and I won�t blame you for being angry��

His first initial reaction was a knot in his gut and his thoughts jumping into hyperspeed. She wants a divorce. That�s it, she wants a divorce. She�s thought it over and realized the marriage was a BIG mistake, right? She realized that I�m not good enough, that I�m too lowbrow, too common�I knew it! I knew I shouldn�t have left�but she said no, go, blow off some steam with Chewie, have some fun! Yeah, right! Women! Especially THIS woman! Luke was right all those years ago on the Falcon. Do you think a princess and a guy like me�? HELL NO! What was I thinking? UGH�

He had thrown his napkin into his plate, leaned back in his chair, and threw his arms up. �OK, let�s have it!� Silence. More tears streaked down her face. �Well?� He braced himself for the words�

I want a divorce.

�I�m pregnant.�

The hush in the room could have been cut with a vibroblade before Han dumbly mumbled, �What?�

Leia then began to sob. �Han�I�m so sorry�I don�t understand how this happened�well, I mean, I DO understand, but�oh��

What happened after that was still a blur: Well, no---what happened after he sat like an idiot with his mouth hanging open (for Kesh knew how long) was still a blur. But he was pretty sure it entailed him leaping from his seat and jumping over the table, lifting a flabbergasted Leia out of her seat and into his arms, laughing and crying as he danced her all around their apartments and, finally, carrying her to their bedchamber where he passionately, tenderly, and relentlessly made love to her for hours.

He was Corellian, after all�

A soft moan against his chest broke Han from his reverie, and he glanced down to see Leia beginning to stir from her rest. As she breathed a deep sigh and lazily lifted her head, he met her sleepy gaze with a soft smile. �Well, hello there�Mommy.�

�Mmmmm,� she moaned again, smiling softly and attempting to focus her sleepy eyes. Suddenly, her eyes snapped wide open as she saw the low light of early dusk filling the room. �Gods, Han, you let me fall asleep?�

�You were exhausted, honey. I figured you needed it.�

�What time is it?�

�Sweetheart, it�s your day off. Does it really matter what time it is?�

She took a breath as if to retort, but the flash of irritation quickly passed from her eyes as her warm smile only broadened. �No, I suppose not.� She inched herself up to kiss Han tenderly as she ran her palm up and down his torso.

�So,� Han murmured as she broke the kiss and nuzzled into his arm, �What do you think of the name Jacen?�

Leia lightly drew little patterns on Han�s chest with her fingertips. �Jacen?�

�If it�s a boy. Or�Jaina, if it�s a girl? Good Corellian names. Jacen Solo. Jaina Solo. Those work, don�t you think?� He waited for her answer, but was only met with silence. �You don�t like them.�

�No, no, I do like them, really,� Leia said as she lifted her head to meet his gaze. �It�s just�� Her voice trailed off as she lowered her eyes again.

Han furrowed his brow. �It�s just what?�

�It�s just�that we may be using both of them.�

He blinked a few times. �Come again?�

�Han�I�m carrying twins.�

�WHAT?� he yelped as he sprang up.

Still lying back on the pillow, Leia looked at him with quiet anxiety and bit her lower lip. �Are you upset?�

�Upset?� He ran his hand through his hair as he found himself having to think about that for a second� �Well�NO, honey, of course I�m not upset! But�� He couldn�t help but laugh, �Leia, why didn�t you tell me before?�

�Han,� she sighed, rolling over on her side and propping her head into her hand and glancing down at her nude self, �you didn�t exactly give me the chance.�

Han started to laugh, but suddenly extreme worry washed over his brow. He placed his hand on her belly. �Gods, Leia�we�I didn�t hurt them, did I?�

�No,� she murmured with a smile. She rubbed his hand on her belly. �I protected them with the Force.�

�It does come in handy, doesn�t it?�

�It can, yes,� she answered softly.

Relieved, he leaned down to lay on his side and gently cup her cheek. He laughed softly as he murmured, �Twins, huh? As always, you are the model of efficiency, your Holiness. Why have one kid when you can have an instant family? Saves a lot of time that way.�

�Solo!� Leia barked, reaching under her head and playfully pelting him with the pillow. He reacted by grabbing her and rolling her on top of him, holding her squirming body firmly in his arms.

As their giggling subsided, Han�s tone became hushed and gentle. �I can�t believe you thought I�d be angry about this.�

�It�s just so soon, Han��

�I�ve got a netflash for you, Your Excellency. Normal people, when they fall in love, get married and start having babies. Or did you miss that in the last Council briefing?�

�We�re not exactly �normal� people, Solo.�

�Well, YOU maybe,� Han smirked.

She returned his smirk with a sidelong glance, cocking her eyebrow. �Han Solo, there are moments when you utterly surprise me. I never pegged you as a family man.�

Something suddenly changed in Han. His face became soft, yet profoundly serious when he murmured, �You never pegged me for a lot of things. Remember?�

Her smirk dissipated as she met his gaze. She grew somber as she whispered, �They�ll be Force-sensitives, Han.�

�Well, as long as they don�t read my thoughts or move the furniture around with their minds while I�m in the fresher, I think I can handle that.�

�That�s not what I meant, nerfherder. I meant they�ll be special.� She looked with unflinching gravity into his eyes. �They�ll be targets.�

�Hey�� he whispered, gently running his hand down her back to cup the curve of her bottom, �let�s worry about that when it�s time to worry about that, OK?�

She closed her eyes and sighed from the pleasure of his touch. �OK.�

�So�NOW can we tell everyone we got married? I think we should, don�t you?�

�I suppose. Although,� she laughed, �I don�t see how anyone would be able to tell I�m pregnant. I could hide a Bantha in those presidential robes.�

Chuckling, he rolled himself over her and took her lips in a tender kiss. �Well, now that you told me your news, I think it�s my turn to tell you mine.�

Leia arched her brows and smirked a half-smile. �Is it as good as mine?�

�I�d say it comes in a close second.� Han smiled that lopsided grin he was so famous for, the one that could simultaneously irk Leia to no end and make her melt at the same time. �We have quite the little partnership here, your Worship. You are providing the family, and I am providing the family getaway.�

�What do you mean?�

�Lady Luck seems to be cutting me a break lately. You are looking at the proud new owner of a planet called Dathomir.�

* * *

Watto snapped the blast dissipation vest closed around Fett�s torso. �All right, ju can put jour arms down now. How does dat feel?�

Fett took a few steps around the shop. He stopped, rotating his torso side to side, then back and forth. He turned to Watto. �It feels too light.�

�It�s supposed to feel light. Ju want to be able to move in it, don�t ju?�

Fett tapped his gloved knuckles against the right pec plate. �Moving is one thing�deflecting a blaster shot is another. This doesn�t feel strong enough.�

�Believe me, it strong enough, all right.� Watto flapped over to the bounty hunter, holding the gorget and shoulder guards. �I used TYI-Flex plasteel.�

�Never heard of it.�

�Dat�s da beautiful ting�no one has!� Watto exclaimed with exuberant pride. �It a long-lost smelting process, over four tousand jears old! Ju take regular plasarmor and impregnate da matrix wit a zordium undermesh and boom! Light, flexible plating dat could deflect an ion cannon! Ju combine dat wit da armorweave undersuit, and ju could take on an AT-AT by jourself!� With that, Watto flew up behind Fett and fastened the gorget and shoulder guards to his vest plate.

Fett had to admit to himself that he was, indeed, impressed by this Toydarian�s skill and resourcefulness. But the real test was yet to come. �Bracers.� Watto immediately complied, flapping over to the worktable where the newly-crafted armor bracers lay and bringing them to Fett. Fett snapped them onto his forearms, careful not to launch any of the weapon systems. �Helmet.� Again, Watto flapped away and returned, this time bearing the Mandelorian-design helm. He floated before Fett, holding the helm and maniacally grinning. Fett reached up to remove the swath from his head and face, but then stopped. He glared at Watto through his opaque goggles. �Do you mind?� he asked flatly.

Watto�s grin melted slightly. �Eh?�

�Turn around.�

�Oh! Oh, jes, of course.� Handing the helm over to Fett, Watto turned in mid-air and faced the junk-covered wall.

Fett pulled off his swath and goggles and eased the helm over his head. �All right. It�s on.�

Watto turned back, and froze as he stared at the bounty hunter before him. His face paled into a sickly white, and he swallowed hard. Even though he was only wearing pieces of the new armor, there was no denying that this man was, indeed, the legendary bounty hunter known as Boba Fett. The armor seemed to instantly become a part of him�or he a part of it? Watto wasn�t sure which. �Ju�um�look good,� he offered in a hoarse rasp.

�Mm hmm,� Fett grunted as he adjusted the bracers.

�Uh�ju like the color? Cuz if ju don�t like gray, I can change it--�

�I don�t care about aesthetics, Watto. Only performance.� He raised the t-shaped visor to meet Watto�s anxious eyes. �When can I expect the jetpack casing to be finished?�

�Tomorrow at da latest, sir.�

�And the dart launchers?�

�I working on dem today, sir. I just need to install de darts into de knee guards.�

Fett stood still and silent, staring at the Toydarian for many long, agonizing moments. Watto was about a millisecond from relieving himself right there when Fett murmured hoarsely, �You�re ahead of schedule, Watto. I�m impressed.�

�OH!� Watto cried, taking in heavy pants of relief, �Oh, TANK YOU, Master Fett! I can�t tell ju enough what an HONOR it has been to��

�Mm hmm,� Fett grunted again as he turned his back and headed for the exit. �I�m going to test these systems. You keep working on the launchers.�

�Jes, sir! But, uh, Master Fett�one humble request?�

Fett stopped and turned his visor. �What?�

�If ju would�uh�be so kind�which ju ARE, don�t get me wrong, but�um�try not to destroy too much of my property out there?� Watto quietly pleaded as he shrunk into a weak-smiled wince. Fett said nothing---but if Watto could have seen his face through the helm, he would have noted the subdued smirk of mild amusement play across the bounty hunter�s lips before he strode out the door.

As the door swooshed closed, Watto exhaled a sigh mixed of relief and exasperation as he flapped over to the workbench and took a seat on it. �Ahead of schedule�good,� he rapsed under his breath. �Gotta finish dis soon, cuz I don� know how much more I can take of dis�� He wiped his brow with his stringy arm as he proceeded to work on the knee-guard rocket launchers.

Fett made his way through Watto�s makeshift junkyard, stopping just beyond the junk-laden perimeter. He lifted his head upward toward the industrial nightmare of the Smuggler�s Moon hovering in the asteroid�s dim sky. �Activate.� The hum of the helmet�s systems was barely audible, but it was enough to assure Fett that they had been activated. �Binocs�fifty percent.� The view of Nar Shaddaa instantly zoomed larger within the visor�s viewscreen. �Two hundred percent.� Again, the view loomed larger, allowing Fett to make details of the Moon�s jutting structures and the star ships that descended and took off from them. �One thousand percent.� The view jumped forward once more, and Fett could now see beings, both living and droid, traveling about the Moon�s mesh walkways. �Infrared.� The organic beings in Fett�s view instantly glowed red within the screen, while droids, vehicles, and buildings cooled to a dark cobalt view.

So far, so good.

He proceeded to engage the various other helmet systems�the holorecorder, the pineal vision system, the audio-sensory, and the remote voice-activated control to the Slave I�s main computer. All functioned with perfect precision.

Now the gauntlets.

He glanced about the yard, seeking a target. He found one in the form of a defunct and crumbling E3-Series droid propped up against a rusting hulk of ship scrap. �Range finder.� Automatically, the small arm of the helmet�s targeting system lowered into place over the t-shaped viewscreen. The electronic data blipped and danced across his eyes before obtaining a perfect lock on the humanoid-shaped droid and flashed a red target signal.

Fett sprang into action. Crouching into a combat stance, he flexed his left arm forward and snapped his fist up. The whipcord snare shot out from the bracer and spun itself around the droid�s neck. He pulled the cord back with such a violent jerk, the droid�s head snapped clean off its metal torso. He raised a brow in satisfaction.

Targeting again, he turned the same arm over and snapped his wrist down. In rapid succession, three darts blasted out of the gauntlet and hit the droid�s chest plate in a triangular formation.

Next, the flamethrower.

He raised his right arm, flexed his fist down, and dug his feet into the asteroid�s soft silt to brace himself for the six-meter flame�

Nothing.

He stood up straight and tapped the bracer a few times with his palm. Again, he aimed and flexed�only to see a pitiful little yellow flame sputter forward and immediately die out. �Damn,� he muttered. He looked the bracer over. Either it was the fuel feed or the ignition, or both. Or was it the neuro-trigger? In any case, it had to be repaired.

He started back toward the door of Watto�s shop�

Watto had just finished connecting the detonator cables to the ends of the small rocket darts and was about to join them to the armor system. With a dart in one hand, he reached for the right knee-guard with the other, and was about to slide the dart into the casing�

Only to find it didn�t fit.

He froze, and then tried to swallow the enormous lump forming in his throat. The dart was too big! But it couldn�t be�Fett fabricated the darts himself, so that meant�he had made the casing too small. �CRAP!� Watto shrieked out loud, and then instantly winced and turned a nervous eye toward the door. He waited for several moments before he surmised that Fett, fortunately, had not heard him. �How can dis be?� he fretted in a panicked whisper. �I KNOW measured dese right, I KNOW I did! Crap, crap, CRAP!� He had to fix this problem, and fast!

Frantically, Watto flew to the holorecorder at the other end of his shop. He began rifling through the pile of schematics holodiscs sitting next to the machine. �Ugh, none of dese are marked! How does he know which is which?� He picked up one disc and jammed it into the recorder. The projection beamed shot forward, showing the dimensions for the armor�s dissipation vest. �NO! Not dat one!� He took it out and put in another�this one played out the helmet�s macrobinocular system. �UGH! Come on! Knee guard rocket launchers! Where is it???� He pulled it out and jammed in another�

�But in spite of his terrible wounds, the prince kept fighting the giant Rancor, bravely, valiantly, his saber slicing through the air, and through the monster�s thick, wretched flesh��

Watto�s head snapped up with a start as he heard a woman�s low, melodic voice behind him. Confused, he slowly turned around to see the glimmering hologram playing across the shop�s center table. The hologram showed a woman sitting in a large, sumptuous chair. A human woman, she wore her black curling hair up, pinned loosely at the nape of her neck. Her robe was simply fashioned, yet made of very expensive fabric. Squinting slightly, Watto slowly flapped over to face the three-dimensional image�it was then he realized that she was cradling an infant in one arm, while holding a databook in the other from which she read the bedtime story.

�The beast howled ferociously from the gash, and smoke poured forth from his terrible nostrils,� the woman read with quiet feeling�the baby squealed, and a softly radiant smile spread across her rose-colored lips. Yes, this was a very pretty woman, as far as humans go. But what struck Watto most of all were her eyes�large, clear, blue-green eyes that reminded him how the white sunlight would sparkle off the lush southern marshes of his beloved Toydaria, where he would play as a little hatchling�

�A rather harsh story for one so young, don�t you think?� a man�s voice, laced with mild humor, softly interjected from beyond the hologram�s focal point. Watto gasped. That was FETT�S voice!

The pretty woman glanced up from her babe, those amazing eyes bright with mischief. �Oh-ho, this coming from the man who would teach him to fly your ship before he could walk? Besides, this was my favorite story when I was a child; and I turned out all right.� She chuckled softly, then waved the datapad in front of her face. �Boba, please stop recording me. I look dreadful right now.�

�Keep reading,� was the man�s quiet response. The woman hesitated, still smiling shyly, and then continued to read the story aloud.

Watto lost himself in the hologram, a small smile tugging at his tusk. He recalled how he would sometimes hear his slave Shmi Skywalker read to little Anakin in their slave quarters at night and how, in spite of his bad-tempered and crotchety self, would hover about their door and listen to the tales Shmi softly read in the same quiet, gentle manner this lady did to her baby�

�Enjoying the show, Watto?�

A gulp of air stuck in Watto�s throat as he spun around to see Fett standing in the shop door. The Toydarian�s eyes grew huge, and his tiny arms shook with surprise and terror. �M-M-Master Fett�I din�t hear ju come in�� Fett stormed across the shop and slammed his fist into the recorder�s control panel�the beautiful human lady and the baby instantly blinked away into thin air. Slowly, the t-shaped visor turned to the terrified Toydarian, who was frantically trying to explain himself. �Master, I�was looking for de�specs for de dart launchers, and�.I found�I din�t mean to�AGH!� Before he could finish Fett lunged forward, grabbed Watto by his thin, leathery neck and hurled him across the shop into the junk-laden wall.

The clanging of metal parts and tools ricocheted off every surface of the shop, mingling with Watto�s own panicked screams as he fell to the floor. Stunned and scared, the alien tried desperately to regain his balance, only to have the enraged Fett pull him up by his right wing to face his mask directly.

�How did you get that disc, Watto?� Fett hissed with composed fury into Watto�s face.

�Fett, please,� Watto begged as he dangled in Fett�s grip, his rough voice even more hoarse with terrified sobbing.

Fett never raised his voice, but his hand tightened even more around the wing, and Watto could feel it going numb. �How did you get that disc? Were you in my ship? How did you get past the defense system?�

�Master, I din�t go in jour ship! Dere�s no way I could! Please, don�t�� Fett violently yanked Watto up. Watto screamed in pain, then screamed again when he saw Fett raise his right bracer and, with a sharp flick of his wrist, a twenty-centimeter serrated blade sprung forth from the housing. �Fett, no, please, please, don�t��

�I swear, Watto,� Fett growled, the blade drawing ever closer, �I will fucking hack your wings off if you don�t tell me where you got that disc! Tell me!� He pushed Watto up against the wall, lodging his bladed forearm against Watto�s throat. �TELL ME!�

�IT WAS IN DA PILE WIT DE SPECS!� Watto screamed hysterically. �I was just looking for de dart speculations, I swear! I din�t see much�only a few seconds�� The small winged alien was now openly bawling. �Please, please, don�t kill me, Fett! Please don�t kill me�I swear, it was in da pile�I din�t see nuthin�please�have mercy on me�Fett�mercy�� Watto hung his head over Fett�s arm and his body went limp as he wept uncontrollably.

Fett held Watto there against the wall for a few more seconds as he tried to control the adrenaline raging through him. He turned his helmet toward the broken holorecorder. Slowly, he released his hold on the Toydarian�s wing, and moved his arm away from Watto�s throat. Watto slid down the wall, touching his throat briefly before looking at his hand, which was stained with a few drops of blood. Still crying, he looked up to see Fett pace to the holorecorder and eject the disc.

Fett turned it over in his hand, then looked over at the disheveled pile of discs. His chest grew tight as realization slowly crept over him. How could he have been so incredibly stupid, so damned careless? He had mixed this holodisc in with the armor speculations! What the hell was happening to him? He was growing ever more distracted, soft, and weak as the days passed. He had allowed Watto to discover his secret. But worse than that�he couldn�t bring himself to kill him for it.

Planting his hands on the recorder stand, Fett bowed his helmeted head, his shoulders shaking in rage. His voice was a mix of lethal intent and sheer desolation when he whispered, �You don�t know how close you are to dead right now, Watto.�

Watto lay crouched on the floor, his wings wrapped around himself, still sniveling uncontrollably�until poignant realization suddenly hit him. In an instant, he immediately understood why Fett had reacted so violently to him viewing that holodisc. He stared at Fett, who stood with his head lowered and his shoulders bent, and found he no longer saw the feared bounty hunter, the terrifying legend. For the first time since they had met, he saw a damaged, real human being standing before him, urgently trying to protect something dear to him, and feeling as though he had failed. Watto stopped his crying as he felt his utter terror of Fett begin to wane. So, there was a man beneath that armor after all�

�I�I din�t know ju had a family,� he choked quietly.

He heard Fett take in a deep breath. �No one knows.� Despite Fett�s low, menacing timbre, Watto could hear the heavy emotion in his voice loud and clear.

The Toydarian straightened up. His gravelly voice was calm and soft when he said, �Jour wife is beautiful, sir.�

Fett raised his head only slightly when he said, �Yes, she is. But she isn�t my wife.� Again, the emotion in his voice was subdued yet unmistakable.

�Ah,� Watto replied, twitching his snout slightly. �But ju do love her, no? And jour baby?� With a newfound courage, Watto flew up and over to the bounty hunter�s side. �And ju would do anyting to protect dem, jes? Even cut off my wings?� He waited for Fett�s response�he got none; Fett continued to stare straight ahead at the shop wall. Watto sighed and shrugged. �OK, den. Go ahead.�

It was then Fett�s helm turned to the Toydarian. �What?�

Watto turned himself mid-air and set himself down on the edge of the recorder stand. His wings fell still as he presented them to Fett. �If dat will prove to ju dat I will tell no one, dat jour secret is safe wit me, den take my wings. If dat�s what ju need, I humbly give dem to you, sir.� He took a deep breath before he blurted, �Just make it quick, OK?�

The silence was thick within the shop�s walls. Watto waited with his eyes clamped shut and his teeth clamped on his lower lip. Many minutes went by, but Fett did nothing, didn�t move, didn�t speak. Finally, he heard the rustling of fabric and the soft clank of armor behind him. He carefully opened one eye to see Fett come around him and raise his bladed bracer. Watto swallowed hard, but did not cry or whimper; he merely closed his eye again and waited�It was only when he heard a sharp SNAP did the Toydarian open his eyes and see that Fett had closed the blade back into its housing.

�Keep your wings,� the bounty hunter said softly. Watto�s body slumped slightly as he exhaled with relief. The shop remained still once again before Fett finally broke the dense silence. �That took courage, Watto. You have shown me that you are, indeed, a man of honor. You�ve shown me that I can trust you.�

Watto gazed into Fett�s visor and, although he could not see his eyes, knew that he and his infamous client had reached a new level of understanding each other. �Tank you, Master Fett,� he whispered, his voice hoarse yet steady. �It is a great honor to have your trust.� He cleared his throat. �Ju want a drink?�

Fett shook his head. �I don�t drink.�

�Well, den�mind if I have one?�

�Go ahead.�

Watto flapped off the stand and floated through the dirty curtain that served as his kitchen door. He came back out with a tall brown bottle in one small hand and a mug in the other. As he poured the thick red liquid into the mug, a question was nagging at his mind and, even though he knew he shouldn�t ask it, he simply had to know. �So�de rumor about ju? Not true den?�

Fett�s helm tilted down slightly as he relaxed his stance. �Which rumor would that be?�

�Dat ju are�� Watto hesitated for a moment before blurting, �a celibate?�

A quiet snort emanated from Fett�s helm, and Watto actually felt comforted that he had humored and not angered the bounty hunter. �It tends to keep certain assassins and other undesirables at bay, so I don�t dispute it.�

Watto chuckled as he down a gulp of his liqueur, but then a somber shadow passed over his eyes. �Since I know something about ju now, maybe ju want to know something about me, jes? Fair exchange?�

Fett tipped his helm. �Go ahead.�

�Do ju know how I ended up here?�

�No.�

�I used to live on Tatooine,� Watto began, looking down and running a leathery finger around the rim of his mug. �I ran a junk and fix-it shop dere, in Mos Espa. Good business too, better dan here.� He swigged his drink before continuing. �One morning, about fifteen jears ago, I woke up and saw five stormtroopers standing over my bed. Dey dragged me out into de street, and dey beat me�and dey beat me good, too!� A sad laugh came from his throat as a wince spread across his face. �Dey burned my shop and house to de ground. Dey made me watch dem destroy my entire inventory, everting I owned. Den dey beat me again�and tortured me for two days.� Another swig. �When it was done, dey dumped me in de ashes of my shop. I begged dem to tell me why, why had dey done dis? What did I do? De only ting dey would tell me, over and over again was �By order of de Lord Darth Vader.�� Watto shrugged as he stared into his mug. �I never heard of dis Vader person. I dunno what I did to offend him so much. But he hated me, boy, dat�s for sure.� He took another long drink.

�Sounds like Vader�s mode of operation,� Fett muttered.

Watto almost spit his drink right out in surprise. He raised his bald brows high as he sputtered, �Ju know him?�

�I worked for him a few times,� Fett replied with bitter wryness. He regarded the Toydarian for a moment before he asked, �So how did you get here?�

Watto looked up from his mug, and the sadness in his eyes was immediately replaced by an impish twinkle. �De day dose troops dumped me off was de Boonta Eve pod race.� He leaned closer to Fett and cackled, �And I won! Fifty-to-one odds�two hundred tousand credits! My bookie came to pay me�and found me lying dere. He took me to de Mos Espa med ward. When I was healed, I took de money and bought dis asteroid and a ship from Jabba de Hutt. And I got off dat stinking rock�just to come to anoder one.� His tone grew solemn again. �I wanted to make sure dis �Lord Vader� never found me again. So far, so good.�

�You don�t have to worry about Vader anymore. He�s dead.�

The Toydarian�s eyes narrowed into dark slits and a darkly satisfied smile crooked his mouth when he muttered, �Good.�

Fett turned around and leaned his back against the recorder stand and cracked his neck. �Watto�take the rest of the day off. I�ll repair the flamethrower in my ship. We�ll resume tomorrow.�

�OK, Fett.�

The bounty hunter turned his helm toward Watto. �One question.�

�Jes?�

�When you offered me your wings. You were bluffing, weren�t you?�

Watto stared anxiously at Fett. �I was bluffing like hell.� But then he started to laugh. Soon, he escalated into outright guffaws.

And although he couldn�t quite be sure, he thought he may have actually heard Fett chuckle under his helmet as well.

* * *

Admiral Daala stole a cold glance at the timepiece hanging on the wall of her ready room as she took another slow, deliberate sip of naris-bud tea. She mentally acknowledged the stimulant beginning to course through her system as she, annoyed, set the cup down with a clatter. She tapped short nails against the desktop. They were late: Not surprising. What more could one expect of petty criminals�?

The only woman ever to reach the rank of Imperial Grand Admiral brooded as she stared out of her massive viewport. The stimulant that she had hoped would sharpen her was only making the churning in her usually steel-lined stomach even worse. How had things come to this bleak circumstance? How could the greatest military force this galaxy had ever seen been reduced to but a pittance of what it was only months ago? The news of the deaths of Vader and Palpatine had swept through the more civilized quadrants of the galaxy like a plague, and with the news came the civilian uprisings. First came the fall of Orri Prime, the Empire�s richest durasteel mining planet and the very core of its ship and weapon building industry. Then the throneworld, Coruscant. Then Naboo, the Empire�s agricultural planet and main food source for its military might. Then Corellia and its indispensable shipyards and factories. One by one, the star systems that made up the very spine of the Empire fell like a fortress of cards blown by the wind, leaving nothing but chaos, disorder, and dismal morale.

The Battle of Endor had practically crippled the Imperial Naval Fleet: only one out of three Destroyers had survived. Those Destroyers that had withstood the onslaught of the Rebel�s wretched rag-tag fleet were left standing only to be wiped out by the nuclear explosions of the new Death Star and Vader�s flagship, The Executor. Daala clenched her eyes and set her jaw as she fought to keep her disgust down in her gullet. Tarkin had been right all those years�Palpatine had been a madman and a despotic fool! Collecting his best ships, his finest officers, all of his resources to a backwater world to do battle with a handful of decrepit ships, an army of a few half-trained malcontents, and a tribe of gibbering stuffed animals�and LOSING! And for what? To get his hands on some �magic� farm-boy from a system no one had ever heard of? This would NEVER have happened if she had been in command!

The irony of it all suddenly struck Daala, and a bitter smile spread her lip. Palpatine hadn�t even known that she existed�Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin had promoted her himself and appointed her this commission, Supreme Commander of the Maw Installation, without the Emperor�s knowledge or permission. So be it to say that she would have had very little chance to command that battle, but�here she was now: Holding the tattered remains of a galactic order that had been created by a man who would sooner have had her, a woman, working in the Imperial Brothel rather than take command of his Empire�s military force.

And those remains were becoming more tattered every day. Day after day, she received report after report of desertions; poor morale; food, fuel, and medical shortages aboard remaining ships; and Destroyers being attacked, maimed, and even destroyed by roving bands of cutthroat pirate fleets and zealous civilian vigilantes! It was becoming a wonder to Daala that there were any ships left at all seeking the refuge of her Installation, seemingly the only Imperial stronghold left in the galaxy.

She had been forced to defy an order that she had held and obeyed for over ten years in making the Maw Installation�s existence public knowledge to the rest of the Imperial Fleet. But what choice did she have? She absolutely could not allow the remnants of the Fleet to flounder out in, what was now, hostile space. Besides, the one who had dictated that order, Wilhuff Tarkin, had now been dead for years. And now with the deaths of Vader and Palpatine and the Imperial Fleet cut down throughout the galaxy, it was more than clear that the only one who held any shred of authority in the now decimated Galactic Empire was she.

And what she was being forced to do with that authority made her sick to her core�

The com on her desk buzzed, and the Admiral immediately knew what for. �Daala here.�

�Admiral, Captain Rhys here. Sir, we have scanned an incoming vessel emerging from the beta hyperspace gate.�

�Class?�

�Non-Imperial, Corellian D-6 cruiser, leisure make. Sir, TIE squadron dispatched and awaiting order to fire.�

�Hold your fire, Captain,� Daala ordered in a dull tone.

�Sir?�

�Hold your fire,� she repeated, her husky voice even lower with tense emphasis. �Call the squadron back, and dispatch regulation escort. Open hailing frequency upon my order, and stand-by for further instructions. Understood?�

A pause indicated that the Captain did understand, but with uncertainty. �Yes, sir.�

�Daala out.� She rose from her chair and paced to the mirror hanging on the wall. As she smoothed the creases from the front of her Imperial uniform and tucked the stray copper-hued hairs back into her severe chignon, Daala intensely scrutinized her visage in the mirror, and was not pleased with the face staring back at her. She looked tired, older, worn out. She looked broken.

She walked back to her desk and engaged the holograph. The still image of the late Grand Moff Tarkin flickered onto the desktop, and for a brief moment, Daala found comfort in Tarkin�s grave and brooding expression. She reached forth and ran her fingertip along the image�s jawline. �Forgive me, Wilhuff,� she whispered, allowing a small spark of emotion to soften her usually frigid demeanor. �These are desperate times, my love.�

She shut down the holograph and, with her head held proud and a fierce clicking of her boots against the metal floor, strode out the door.

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The Fett Dynasty II: Siege of Orri Prime