“It’s free, but make it quick.”
“Your father did something once that you might be able to do for us today.”
Spare me the amateur psy ops. “What?”
“He recruited a group of training sergeants for the Old Republic’s commando forces-the Cuy’val Dar. Maybe we could use some of your experienced commandos to train planetary militias to fight the Yuuzhan Vong.”
Fett recalled the Cuy’val Dar, all right: he’d grown up surrounded by them on Kamino. “The multiplier effect.” He paused a heat. It was a good idea, hut he didn’t want to look too enthusiastic. “I’ll see who’s interested.”
Kubariet reached inside his suit and took out a data chip. “Use this to configure secure links from your comlink system to mine. I’m your portal, so to speak. Nobody knows this comes from you.”
“Let’s swap. I’ve got a bag of Vong spare parts in the conservator if you need them.”
“I’ve take whatever you’ve got.” Kubariet seemed on the brink of grabbing Fett’s hand, or slapping his shoulder, or some other display of comradeship that made Fett recoil. Kubariet wasn’t giving up on redemption, though, spy master or not. “Fett, don’t you care that people despise you all as traitors.’ Can you really swallow it when the New Republic tries to kill you when you’re risking your neck for us?”
Fett tried to recall what it felt like to be a hero but nothing came to mind. He couldn’t speak for his troops or the clans in general, but no, he lost no sleep over it. He had his own code of honor: and abiding by it meant he could live not only with himself, but also with his father’s still-present scrutiny.
“We’ll survive,” he said.
“If you think of something I can do to make your lives easier, you’ll let me know, won’t you?”
Fett couldn’t think of anything that the New Republic could give Mandalore other than a wide berth when the war was over. He turned to walk back to Slave I and retrieve the samples. The irony of the Jedi’s offer wasn’t lost on him, but now was the time to keep a lifetime’s hatred on a leash and do the pragmatic, practical thing-to behave as Jango Fett would have.
Get the job done. Don’t give in to emotion.
Fett could no longer think of a single thing that another person could possibly give him.
Maybe that was the point. He turned on one heel.
“Jedi, there’s one thing you can do.”
“Okay. Name it.”
“Make sure everyone knows that a Mandalorian called Briika Jeban died to save a citizen of the New Republic.”
“Of course. Who was she? Can you tell me any more? Who did she save?”
Fett tilted his head slightly to one side, then resumed his walk to his ship.
“You, Jedi,” he said. “You.”
NEW JEDI ORDER: BOBA FETT: A PRACTICAL MAN Page 7