She didn't look like she had anywhere else to go, and Fett wouldn't ask Beviin to find room for yet another stray. Bal-tan Carid, whose vine tattoo seemed to have' sprouted a couple of extra leaves, called to the barkeep: "Better kick the strill out of the executive suite, Cham'ika.

You've got royalty."

Fett paused outside the Oyu'baat to take stock, then paced across the square to the sheer drop that stared down into the Kelita River.

Beviin kept his counsel and waited with him, both of them leaning on the bal.u.s.trade watching the current as it tossed small freshly broken branches onto the rocks. There was a lot of construction going on upstream.

"Jedi can be healers, "Beviin said. "Now, that's some-thing none of us can do."

Fett braced his hands on the top rail. "I don't want her fixing Sintas. Let's keep the problems from interbreeding."

"Just a thought."

"Thanks anyway."

"But if you need the Jedi kept in line, there's always room at the farm."

Beviin would make a far better Mandalore than Fett ever had. He was more in Shysa's mold, as ready to boost morale and build alliances as he was to put his beskad through the nearest enemy, and everyone liked him.

All Fett had was his record on the battlefield and his dynastic name; he was an image that Mando'ade liked to present to the world, not someone they actually needed, more a living talisman than a leader. Every Mandalore had his own style. In the end, it didn't seem to change the essence of Mandalore one bit.

"I told Mirta I killed Shysa, "Fett said.

Beviin sighed. "Might as well have all your osik hit the fan at the same time and get it over with, Bob'ika..."

"I didn't explain. Just told her."

"You ever going to tell me?"

"Okay, I put Shysa out of his misery. We were sur-rounded, he was too badly hurt to escape, and I couldn't leave him to the Sevvets."

"Tough decision. But we guessed that."

"He asked me to do it."

"So you got the top job. n.o.body ever argued about it anyway."

"You can't blow a man's brains out without taking his last wish seriously. He made me give my word.'" It was nonnegotiable: Jango Fett had taught his son from the cra-dle that his word was everything. "He made me swear I'd be his successor. He always wanted me to be Mandalore.

If I didn't know better I'd have said he arranged it."

"No witnesses."

"You think I wanted this job?"

"Says a lot about you."

"I said, I never wanted to be Mandalore."

Beviin sounded a little testy. "I meant, Bob'ika, that you could have sworn anything to Shysa and n.o.body would ever have known if you broke your word or not."

Fett gripped the edge of the stone bal.u.s.trade, "I'd know."

Beviin just nodded. "You'd never abandon anything without a good reason."

No, for once Beviin was wrong. And if Sintas got her mind back, she'd tell him so.

Chapter 7.

No Mandalorian soldier should have to fight an aruetii's war for the price of a day's food. No Mando'ad should have to fight at all, except to defend Manda'yaim, his home, or his family, or because he wants to. We have to stop being the tool of governments that don't care if we live or die so long as we do their bidding.

-Kad'ika, also known as Venku, addressing an informal gathering of clan leaders BEVIIN-VASUR FARM, NEAR KELDABE.

Fett waited outside the door for a few moments. He could hear the droid whirring as it moved around the bedroom, and Dr. Beluine's murmuring voice. As soon as the doctor came out, he'd go in and sit with Sintas for a while. After that, he'd start his sessions with Jaina Solo.

His day was planned.

"Grandmama keeps asking where she is." Mirta came up behind him and nudged him in the small of his back. She wasn't quite up to taking his hand or hugging him, and he wouldn't have known how to respond to that kind of in-timacy or compa.s.sion anyway. "We keep telling her, but her short-term memory is shot to haran."

"Early days, "Fett said, wondering who we was.

"She won't let go of the heart-of-fire."

"Did you call her grandmamat"

"I thought that would be asking for trouble, Ba'buir..."

Fett heard boots in the pa.s.sage behind him, slow and careful, like someone was creeping in and trying not to be noticed. Even without his helmet's 360-degree vision, he knew who it was.

" 'Morning, Grade."

"Su'cuy, Mand'alor." Ghes Orade, Mirta's new love, stopped in his tracks, clutching some wild vormur blooms. "I brought some flowers for Sintas."

"She's blind."

Grade gave him a look that said heartless barve. "She can smell the scent."

It was a nice touch, something Fett hadn't thought about. He better treat my granddaughter like a princess, too. Fett turned slowly to give the lad the full benefit of his unspoken warning. "You marrying Mirta, then?"

"Yes, Mand'alor."

"You're the only Mando'ad on this planet who cowers to me. Don't."

Grade was a typical tough Mando lad, but in-laws were a lot scarier than Yuuzhan Vong. "One minute I'm an orphan. The next I've got family coming out of the woodwork like squalls."

"Okay, "said Grade, spine stiffening. "I'm marrying Mirta, and if anyone has to take care of her grandmother long-term, it'll be us."

My grandson-in-law. Fierfek. Fett a.s.sessed him, and thought he'd do.

A Mandalorian wedding consisted of four short vows and was usually a private ceremony for the couple, not their families. Fett, still thinking in aruetii terms, wondered whether to feel offended that he hadn't been invited, and then realized n.o.body else would attend, either, although there'd be communal drinking and sentimentality afterward. Not a credit would be wasted on fripperies. Mando'ade operated on plain, honest pledges and contracts, in love as well as business.

"No urge to revert to Kiffar culture, then?" he asked Mirta.

"I've made my choice, "she said.

The door swung open and Beluine came out, looking anxious. Fett took him to one side while Mirta and Orade slipped into the room.

"Is she going to get better?" Fett demanded.

"The fact that she's alert and mobile is remarkable enough."

Beluine lowered his voice so that Fett had to strain to hear him, but he seemed indignant that his treat-ment hadn't been appreciated. "Most cases were in some degree of coma for months. Her Kiffar brain chemistry may have offered her some protection from the worst of the carbonite trauma."

Kiffar were different, Fett knew that. The ability to detect past events from inanimate objects was proof of that, just like Gotab had done when he'd told Fett far too much about his history with Sintas simply from holding that heart-of-fire stone. He had to be a Kiffar, too. "So she might improve."

"She might. Carboniting affects neural connections in the brain.

That's why your wife can't see, and why her memory is affected. Given time, neurons do regenerate. Stimulation helps-little mental exercises to stimulate her memory, objects she might remember, like the necklace, holoimages, that kind of thing."

Ex-wife, Doctor. Ex-wife.

But the weight of responsibility felt the same. Fett had never been very good at thinking for two, unless the other was his father. "You're saying she's brain-damaged."

"Technically, yes. But therapy..."

"You said I had a year to live. I'm fine now."

Beluine squirmed visibly. "You found your Kaminoan scientist, then."

"I found what I needed." Fett hadn't had a checkup since the veterinary lab had cleared his blood samples. Physi-cally, he felt fine.

He suspected fate had spared him a pre-mature death so he could hang around and have his past catch up with him. I'm not proud of anything I've done. I'm not ashamed of anything, either. I did what I had to do.

"I"ll find Sintas what she needs. If I need you, I'll call you."

Beluine was always good at knowing when he'd been dismissed. Mirta stuck her head out of the doorway, face set in a frown.

"Whatever Medrit says, Beluine did a good job, "she said. "You're so ungrateful. Grandmama could easily have died."

Fett recalled his first lessons in combat, learned at his fa-ther's side. Commit fully to the attack. Don't let up. Don't stop to think. It was good advice for facing your past, too. He walked in and sat down at the bedside. Sintas was sitting cross-legged on the mattress, turning the heart-of-fire over in her hands as if she was searching.

"Who are you?" she asked, turning her face to him.

Don't stop to think.

"I knew you when we were younger."

"What's your name?"

Don't stop to think. Don't... "Boba. Boba Fett."

He expected the world to come crashing down at that moment, but Sintas just looked blank, as if she was trying to remember something minor, not the man who'd put a huge dent in her life. "I'm Sintas Vel, and you're Boba Fett, and she's.... she's..."

Mirta took up position on the opposite side of the bed. "I'm Mirta Gev, "she repeated patiently.

"Yeah, Mirta.... are you my little girl? I have a daughter."

Fett switched off. He hadn't planned to, but it happened automatically. It was like a thermostat switch that tripped whenever things were in danger of overheating.

"Ailyn, "he said. How could he know how much she could handle at one time? She forgot it all the next moment, anyway. "Your daughter's name was Ailyn. She was about sixteen last time you saw her."

"I have to find her. She'll be wondering where I am."

Mirta fixed Fett with a stare that said Don't even think about it.

"Lots of things have happened while you've been in carbonite." Mirta took a deep breath. "I'm your granddaughter. "

Sintas didn't react for a while. She kept turning the heart-of-fire between her fingers, lips moving silently. Fett wondered if she was reading it and trying to tie up its infor-mation with what she was hearing. Sin was always sharp, a.n.a.lytical, looking for the angle. He didn't know what al-ways meant, of course; from meeting her to leaving her had been just three or four years, tops.

She placed the heart-of-fire around her neck, one hand still clutching the stone. Grade leaned over and held the flowers in front of her.

"These are vormur blooms, "he said. "It's me, Grade. Remember? From yesterday?"

Sintas inhaled the scent and just smiled. At least she wasn't distressed now; that was something. Mirta got up and took something from the cupboard, something Fett hadn't seen in a very long time. It was a red oblong canister with a handle on the top. Somewhere-not here, not now-his heart sank, but he didn't let it touch him.

"We found this in Rezodar's effects, "Mirta said, open-ing the lid.

A hologram leapt into life with a faint hum, triggered by the mechanism. Mirta looked up slowly, fixing Fett with an expression that might have been recrimination or a cue to tell Sintas what he could see and she couldn't. Fett couldn't tell which. The hologram showed Sintas holding a baby, all smiles, and Fett standing with one arm around her shoulder.

I could have said it was Spar standing in for me, doing Shysa's bidding as usual, the idiot. But that's me standing there. I remember the day.

Fett also remembered killing a lot of sc.u.mbags to re-trieve that hologram for her, long after they parted. He couldn't-wouldn't-remember how he'd felt when the image was recorded.

"What is it?" Sintas asked, reaching out toward the source of the hum.

"It's an old hologram, "Mirta said gently. "It's you and your daughter, I think. My mother. And-your husband." Her eyes were fixed on Fett's, back to the cold black stare she had given him when they'd first met. It was as if Ailyn's lessons in hating him were all flooding back to her. "It'll make sense when you can see again."

Sintas half smiled, looking embarra.s.sed. "I have a hus-band? What happened to him? How long have I been out of it? Come on, tell me."

She might have lost her memory, but this was the old Sintas, all right, a no-nonsense bounty hunter who didn't have time for excuses and plat.i.tudes. She always wanted to know the score.

Fett took a long, slow breath in the same way he did to prep for storming a room.