The morning began with a difficult awakening in the medical ward, his whole body still aching from bruises, and his head splitting. The burns hardly hurt at all; Anakin was right, the night in a healing trance had worked wonders. But his mind couldn't calm down after yesterday. Behind the wall, in the neighbouring ward, in exactly the same condition, dressed in exactly the same loose beige pyjamas, holding his head and groaning, Mace Windu was getting out of bed.
"Boba didn't get what he wanted, but he would have been happy to hear his current death rattle," Asoka muttered, smiling and glancing at the ceiling. "Although I was luckier, I saw him with a hangover.
But ten minutes later, she didn't feel like smiling anymore. Anakin and Master Kenobi entered her room, followed by Windu, who was staggering and holding onto the walls. His face was so shocked that he didn't even seem to notice that he had left the room barefoot. He was so struck by what Kenobi had shown him.
"Tano, look at this," he said as soon as Ahsoka appeared behind her companions.
"Yes, Ahsoka, come here, it's good for you to be scared too," said Anakin, as if it wasn't him who had spent the entire flight yesterday at her stretcher, applying a wet cloth to his mentor's burning forehead. Troghuta was slightly offended, but approached the windowsill where Kenobi had already set up his datapad:
"Look, Orra Sing herself has contacted us," Obi-Wan announced, and the recording began to play. First there were blue waves of interference, followed by several human figures. In the foreground stood the fearless mercenary Orra Sing, holding a blaster in her long-fingered hand. Next to her was Boba Fett, his weapon also aimed at one of the three hostages sitting bound near the wall. It was difficult to recognise the missing admiral and two commanders.
"Mace Windu, answer us," Orra said, looking into the camera. "Come to meet us, and these three will not be harmed.
Then she removed the gag from one of the hostages and, pushing him roughly in the back with her knee, demanded:
"Tell us your name! Louder! I can't hear you!"
"PM-1345," the unfortunate man said in a hoarse voice, trying to turn away.
"Boba, come on!" Orra ordered, nodding imperiously to Fetta.
He obediently raised his blaster and aimed it at the back of the commander's head. However, his hand was shaking, and his finger refused to pull the trigger. Finally, Sing waved her hand at him, pushed him aside, clicked the safety catch on her weapon, and, deftly pulling the trigger, fired a precise shot. The unfortunate man jerked and fell onto his back.
"Next time I order you to shoot, you will do it!" Orra Bob ordered and turned back to the camera. "You understand, Mace."
The recording ended, leaving a few seconds of silence.
"That was Pons," said Asoka, adding more firmly, "We're leaving for Vankor immediately!
"No, we can't do that under any circumstances," Kenobi objected. "First, you're both still recovering. Second, Windu's presence will only provoke them. And third, I don't think they're still on Vankor.
"What do you suggest, then? Wait until they shoot the rest of us?" Windu asked indignantly, folding his arms across his chest.
"Nothing of the sort," Obi-Wan reassured his colleague. "Padmé Skywalker and I will go to the meeting.
Anakin smiled contentedly, feeling the Master's encouraging hand on his shoulder.
"I won't let you down," he said eagerly and looked at Ahsoka, waiting for her approval. She nodded, expressing her complete agreement with the plan.
"Just be careful," she warned him, not because she had been instructed to, but because her heart told her to.
"I thought Mummy stayed on Shili," grumbled Anakin, who couldn't stand being told something like that in front of everyone. After promising the injured that they would not leave the situation as it was, both Jedi, senior and junior, left the medical ward to go down to the hangar.
"Aren't we flying to Vankor?" Anakin asked in surprise, noticing that they were flying in the completely opposite direction — that was where Boba Fett had last been seen.
"There's no point in flying where he definitely isn't," explained the Master. "It will be much more useful to go where people know about him. To do that, we'll go down to the lower levels."
Anakin understood what he meant. The lower levels were full of taverns and bars where gangsters hung out and knew everything about each other. Perhaps by mingling among them, they would be able to find out something about Bob. For this purpose, they put on light brown ponchos over their Jedi robes. This made it much easier to blend in with the crowd, and their swords were less noticeable. However, no one paid much attention to them anyway. Everyone in the dive bar was busy with their own business: some were drinking, others were dancing, and still others were singing into a microphone, but no one wanted to share any information. Not of their own volition, nor of anyone else's. Especially since not both of them were willing to accept such a setback...
"Anakin, if you don't stop, I'll have to leave you on the ship," Obi-Wan said sternly as they left another dive.
"What's wrong?" Skywalker asked casually, hiding his hands in his pockets. "How much longer? I'm tired of these smelly bars."
"You know, my dear," Kenobi replied without a hint of a smile and ignoring the Padawan's obvious insolence, "you've taken a lot from your mentor, such as a lack of tact.
"You could also use some of Master Qui-Gon's gentleness and patience. Why didn't you borrow them when you had the chance?" he thought, lowering his head dejectedly. And why does everyone reproach him? Okay, Anakin, she can, but the others...
"Try to clear your mind and concentrate on your surroundings," Obi-Wan advised, softening a little. "You have no idea how candid people can be when they've had a few drinks.
Anakin nodded in agreement and followed the Master into another tavern, where everything was almost the same as in the others. The same loud music, predominantly thuggish pop songs, clouds of tobacco smoke rising to the ceiling, tables standing in disorderly rows, accommodating representatives of different races in varying degrees of alcoholic and drug intoxication, or both at once. But the Jedi were wrong: in addition to all this, there was something else here that was not found in any of the other taverns. Something pleasant to the ear and sweet balm spreading through tired nerves — luck.
***
"You're such a wimp, Bob," Orra said contemptuously, blowing on her blaster and hiding it behind her belt.
"Orra, I'm sorry, I couldn't do it, it's not that easy to shoot an unarmed man," Bob replied sheepishly, avoiding looking at his patroness.
"I agree with him," the burly Castas unexpectedly came to the boy's defence. "I never signed up for this. The separatists will pay only for the Jedi; I don't need any extra blood on my hands."
"Then maybe you should leave the partnership," Orra asked indifferently, pretending she didn't care.
"With pleasure, I've been dreaming about it for a long time," Castas exhaled with great relief.
"Boss, what about you?" she asked, turning her inquiring gaze to the Trandoshan.
"I'm in!" he replied eagerly, jumping up from the emotions that had overwhelmed his dull brain.
"Excellent," Orra nodded contentedly. "Lucky for you, Castas, we'll make a stop at Florum, and you can get off there."
That settled it, and Orra even decided to take advantage of the situation. After all, her current lover, who was quite capable of replacing Castas in their business, had settled on Florum.
"In bed too," thought Orra, wrinkling her nose in disgust as she remembered Castas's sweaty, greasy hands and his slobbery kisses. Spitting again to rid herself of the memories and rejoicing that they would now remain just that, Sing set course for Florum, contacting Hondo Onaka, her lover, the vikue, along the way. He was very happy to see his passion and barely restrained his urge to rush forward when, instead of asking for permission to enter, she wrapped her arms around his wrinkled neck and pressed her lips to Hondo's.
"I hope the child isn't mine," he chuckled, nodding at Bob, unaware that this was at least the second time Hondo had voiced this assumption in the last 24 hours.
"No, he's a member of my team, Bobba Fett. We have a job to do that will pay us handsomely, but our partner has gone missing. Would you like to join us?" Orra asked, squeezing Bobba's hand encouragingly.
"For you, my love, anything," Onaka replied eagerly, placing his sweaty palm on Orra's waist. She pushed it away in annoyance and said sternly,
"First things first! So, you know me, you know Bob, and this is Bossk, and he's Castas, and he hangs out here.
Hondo shook hands with all three and led them to the nearest cantina to discuss the details of the matter at hand. Castas, breaking away from the group at the entrance, found a secluded corner, took out a communication device, entered a familiar contact, and soon a hologram of a young, thin Nautolan appeared on the screen.
"Hello, friend, I have some valuable information for you.
"Want to turn someone in for a reward again?" the young man asked mockingly, but his green eyes lit up with obvious interest, and his hands rubbed together in anticipation.
"That's right, it's about Orra Sing," replied Castas, so engrossed in the conversation that he forgot who was around him, especially that Orra herself was still there.
"Did he run away from her too?" the nau-tol nodded knowingly, waiting for the story to continue.
"Yes, few can work with that bitch," Castas said louder than usual, and being naive and not very smart by nature, he did not notice that the woman he had just mentioned was standing literally a metre away from him and had already put her hand on her belt where her weapon was.
"Castas!" she called out to him, and when he turned around, not expecting anything like this, a precise shot hit him right in the eye, ending the mercenary's life.
"Scrape the guy off the floor, he's bleeding," Hondo said indifferently to the cleaners, feeling no compassion for his fallen comrade.
"Well, are you with us?" Orra asked, blowing on the smoking blaster and kneeling down next to Hondo.
"I won't help," replied the Viquey, hugging his lover around the neck, "but I won't get in the way either."
***
The bar door opened, the Master and the Padawan entered, and Anakin tried to gather himself and follow Kenobi's advice.
"Just like he said, I need to shut down my consciousness and listen to my surroundings," Skywalker recalled his words. "Okay, let's try it. I'm listening, I'm merging with my surroundings..."
It didn't happen right away, but he managed it, and soon Anakin felt as if he himself no longer existed, that he had dissolved into the air and enveloped the entire room with his spirit. It was as if he had become one with the surroundings and the inhabitants of the dive, breathing the same air and living the same life, being everyone and yet at the same time standing apart. In any case, he could see the visitors as if they were in the palm of his hand, and he could hear their conversations as if they were addressed to him personally. In the right-hand corner, an Iterian and a Rodian were arguing about who would go home with the chic girlfriend this time. Interesting, of course, but clearly not what he needed. A little further away, two Twilliks were complaining about the sharp rise in the price of drugs, which was not what he was looking for either. So, what do we have here, not far from the bar counter?
"Hey, mate," said a tall, skinny Nautolan, nudging his Rodian neighbour in the side. "Our friend just got beaten up on the Forum. They say he got involved with Orra Sing, who's helping Boba Fett avenge his dad!
That's it! Anakin was so excited that he forgot to be careful and rushed across the hall towards Obi-Wan, only to be grabbed halfway by two thugs who reeked of booze.
"Hey, kid, what are you doing here? Who do you work for?" asked one of them, shaking Skywalker by the collar.
"For me!" Kenobi's menacing voice rang out above his head, followed by the sound of a lightsaber being activated.
"Hahahaha! You can't scare me, Jedi!" laughed the second thug, but he let go of Anakin, and feeling the hard ground beneath his feet, he also grabbed his sword:
"What if there are two of them?
The mercenaries scattered in fear, but others came and began to fight back with blaster shots. Finally, tired of wasting time on this pointless battle, Anakin reached into his pocket, pulled out a handful of small coins, and threw them into the crowd of mercenaries:
"Drinks are on the house!
And grabbing the Master by the arm, he broke free and ran outside.
"Well done, kid, I could never have done that," Kenobi praised him, still frowning, "But it's still a bit rough, work on your technique.
"I've learned something," Skywalker decided not to waste time on resentment. "I heard about the murder of a mercenary on Florum, and Orra Sing is involved.
"Heading for Florrum!" Kenobi reacted instantly and led Asoka's apprentice to the ship.
***
"Someone's flying towards us, and judging by the way they're moving, it's a Jedi," said Orra, noticing some movement on the star map.
"Wind! Finally!" Boba jumped up and pressed himself against the viewing window. But how disappointed the teenager was when Master Kenobi and some skinny teenager, slightly older than Boba, emerged from the ship. The indignation erupted immediately, as soon as the visitors boarded their ship, Rab-1, sat down at the table and prepared for negotiations. Kenobi looked at Orra, who was sitting opposite him, waiting for her to speak first, but Boba jumped out from behind the corner, stood behind him, pointed his blaster at the Jedi's head, and shouted angrily:
"I was waiting for Windu, what the hell are you doing here?
Before Kenobi could answer, Anakin jumped out from another corner and stood behind Orra, grabbing her with one hand and, with the other, activated his lightsaber, cut off the top of her antenna and, holding the blade to her throat, shouted in response:
"Stop that immediately! And tell me where the hostages are!
"He won't say anything," Orra replied in a surprisingly firm voice. "And anyway, you started this by starting the war.
"Let her go! Now!" Bob shouted at Anakin, pointing his blaster at him.
"He won't let her go," Orra sneered, raising her eyebrow contemptuously. "He's not you!"
Anakin was indeed determined, but Orra, not placing any hope in her cowardly partner, took matters into her own hands with two extra phalanges. With the spike on the toe of her boot, she quietly pressed a button under the table, and thick smoke poured out from underneath it, followed by an explosion a second later. It wasn't strong enough to knock everyone down, but it was enough to scatter them and allow Orra, who had flown towards the exit, to begin her rapid escape. Anakin rushed after her, as did Boba, but at the last moment he was pulled back by the Force.
"Orra! Don't leave me!" he cried helplessly, feeling Obi-Wan's strong hands on his shoulders.
"Don't count on criminals, it's been known for a long time," Kenobi replied and led him to his ship. "Better surrender voluntarily and your sentence will be shorter."
Meanwhile, Anakin caught up with Orra, jumping onto the ship she had already boarded and begun to take off. Orra zigzagged as best she could, trying to shake off the annoying misunderstanding that had latched onto her ship like a minnow. Anakin did not give up and clung to the ledges as best he could.
"Anakin! Don't give up!" Obi-Wan yelled into the comlink. "She's taking you away from the hostages!
Then Skywalker understood everything and changed tactics, simply smashing the windshield with his sword and damaging the hyperdrive, not quite understanding how he had managed to do it with a single touch. Orra began to shoot back, but Anakin had already jumped out before she noticed the malfunction and flew straight into the cliff with a wild scream, followed by an explosion. Kenobi picked him up and they returned safely to the temple, handing Bob over to the clone soldiers. They led him to another ship to take him to the Prism prison, where dangerous criminals were held, when Ahsoka and Mace Windu, who had just been discharged from the medical ward, came out onto the landing pad.
"Boba," Mace said in a quiet, calm voice, kneeling down to be at the same level as him, "I admit that I was wrong to give in to my emotions, and I am ready to ask for your forgiveness.
"I understand," replied the teenager coldly and without emotion. "But you started it by killing my father, and I will never forgive you for that."
"Take him away," said Vind, rising. For almost the first time in his life, the sharp-tongued Mace was at a loss for words. He understood that the boy was right in his own way and would always remember that. So would all those who stood with him now on the platform, watching the thin teenager walk away, followed by two clones with bent backs, but his head still held high. He had not given up and would certainly prove himself. They would all remember the great Bob Fett, a worthy son of his father, many times to come. Orra Sing, on the other hand, would soon be forgotten, believed to be buried forever at the bottom of the cliff.
***
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