Coruscant

Fornia's Apartment

Steam hissed against the plastiglass walls, obscuring the bathroom from sight. Fornia let the hot water wash down her, unable to do anything at first other than stand and enjoy the warmth. Eventually she leaned her head forward, allowing her hair to soak underneath the shower. When it was slick she pushed it back out of her face, and began to wash.

She could feel chemicals sluicing from her hands and arms as she rinsed them; the residues of bleach and cleaning products she had used throughout the apartment. Since Chayni Tular had sent her home from the Senate the previous day, she had done only two things; sleep, and clean.

The same old mess had faced her when she arrived back from the Senate; dust and clutter and dirty plates. She thought she would go crazy, or start crying again, if she had to be stuck in it while she waited for summons to meet with Skywalker. She was tired of crying. She had to do something.

So she had cleaned. She dusted, scrubbed, washed and wiped her way through each room. She opened windows, washed her clothes, emptied old food from cupboards. She changed her bed sheets.

Doing the work herself was the only option. She'd never owned a cleaning droid; too poor as a kid, and definitely not after Dengar's accident. Droids... unnerved her now. The only droid that hadn't bothered her was the R2 unit in her X-wing during the Rebellion. And anyway, cleaning manually was strangely therapeutic.

It had taken her since the previous day to work through each room. Late last night she had paused, only for bed and a dreamless sleep. As soon as she awoke she had begun again. Finally, in mid-afternoon, she stopped; the only thing left to clean had been herself. She'd stripped the last of her dirty clothes, loosened her hair and stepped into the enveloping mist of the shower unit.

She worked cleansing fluid along her arms, down her torso and legs, and lathered the remainder into her hair. She thought about what was to come. That had been the other purpose to cleaning; it was a way to distract herself from the panic growing inside her.

The Supreme Chancellor would summon her to the Senate, today, or tomorrow, to meet with Luke Skywalker. Fornia had never so much as spoken to the Jedi before. They had of course flown in the Alliance together, though in separate squadrons. She remembered how she had liked him initially, at a distance; the bright young pilot who had aced the Death Star run. But that had waned, quickly, when she discovered his friendship with Solo... Skywalker became another Rebel to avoid then.

She wondered what he could want to ask her, and equally what she would be able to tell him. Fornia knew that everyone on Coruscant had experienced visions, on the night of the blackout. Chayni Tular had said that Skywalker's vision was of her. Why, though? She was nobody. She had no information, other than hearsay about a Sith on Trangor Prime, which Luke knew firsthand already.

She knew it had to be Fett. Fornia rinsed her hair under the rush of water again, feeling the soap wash away. What could she tell Skywalker and the Chancellor about Fett? She had no idea where he was, for a start, other than not in her apartment. She couldn't imagine where he might have gone.

And even now, despite everything, she felt a reluctance to give anything away about the hunter. It would feel like a betrayal.

No. He left. He betrayed you. You don't owe him anything.

She tried to convince herself, but she still felt uneasy. Even if Fett did deserve it, it would be a betrayal. Not just of him, but of everything they'd gone through, the dreams... their friendship.

At that Fornia almost laughed, under the water. Friendship. She spoke aloud, her voice reverberating around the narrow shower unit.

"You were never his friend. You owe him nothing."

It sounded more convincing out loud. She turned the stream of water off, and stepped out of the unit. Drying herself down, she walked back into the bedroom. It was her room again now; she had reclaimed it with soap and clean bed sheets.

Her holo-projector lay in the centre of the bed. Fornia pressed a button on the device to check for new messages, although she knew it was pointless. She had carried the projector around with her all day, as she had moved through the apartment to clean. There had been no calls, no messages. No summons.

She pressed the button anyway.

"You have zero new holo-recordings. Press again to replay your old messages."

She turned away, disappointed, and began to dress. The waiting was the worst part. She would rather go to the Senate today, and get it over with. She didn't know if she could wait until tomorrow.

When she was fully clothed, hair dried and neatened, she sat down on the end of the bed, and contemplated the projector again.

You could still call him. You know the ship's holo-pattern. Or you could call Dengar. You don't have to do this.

Fornia frowned. "I don't owe him anything."

She stood, picking up the projector. If she had to wait, she could at least do it in front of the holovision. She left the room, taking the projector with her.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs the device began to beep in her hand; a live call. Finally. On impulse she hurried out onto the balcony to take the call, relief and anxiety chasing through her stomach. Again, she wondered what she could possibly tell them.

After a moment to compose herself – I really hope this is Tular and not some sales droid – she pressed to receive the call. The Supreme Chancellor's face appeared, hovering serenely above the device, balanced on his thin, long neck.

"Sub-senator Alorida. I hope this is a convenient moment?"

"Hello Chancellor." She cringed internally. Hello Chancellor? "Yes, now is fine."

"Good. Would you be able to join me at the Senate shortly, as we discussed yesterday?"

She nodded quickly. "I can be there in... 30 minutes?"

"Excellent. Please do not rush. We shall await you in my office." Tular nodded at her, and cut the connection.

Fornia stared at the space where the blue glowing miniature of the Quermian had been. Her finger brushed against the new call button. She almost pressed it.

But she stopped herself, deliberately transferring the device to her other hand. She retreated into the apartment. Order and tidiness and the scent of disinfectant surrounded her. She told herself it was comforting.

She had made her choice. She strode across the room, to the front door. She left, and the door slid shut behind her.

Senate Shuttle Dock

Ellay focused her macro-binoculars on the shuttle landing platform below, ignoring the sharp wind whipping around her, pushing her hair flat and billowing the feathers of her tail out like a fan.

She struggled for a foothold on the narrow beam, careful not to tangle her boots amongst the weave of electro-fibrecables, as the wind buffeted her ceaselessly. Through stubborn determination she remained upright, clutching the macro-bins to her face. Precarious though her vantage point was, perched in the rafters of the Senate building, directly above the main entrance, at least it gave her a perfect view of the shuttles as they arrived.

The woman, Fornia Alorida, would land soon. Ellay had reviewed the senate's security holos, following Chayni's instruction from the previous evening, so she knew when to expect Alorida's arrival. The shuttle the woman took was a local, short-range route. Ellay seethed at the distance. The woman and Fett had been so close all throughout her hunt, just minutes away, while she had traipsed through bars, travelled to Corellia and back, and endured Chayni's wrath on her return. All needlessly.

Ellay lowered the macro-bins, and glanced at the chrono on her wrist comlink. The shuttle was overdue, but she was unconcerned. It was to be expected; the blackouts had caused massive disruptions in the day-to-day running of the planet, shuttle timetables included.

She turned, and looked over her shoulder, to check that the hovering device behind her was still safe. It was pushed far back against the service door Ellay had used to access the roof. She had tried to make it as secure as was possible on the beam. It was the part of the plan she disliked, even though she had given Chayni the idea for it.

She had discovered how to control the girls' blackout ability, and her employer had utilised the information as he saw fit.

It was a repulsor-lift trolley, a small device used to transport small loads too heavy to carry. Old-timers used them for grocery shopping, mainly. Ellay didn't know exactly where Chayni had got this one from, although she guessed someone at the Senate was probably missing it.

Earlier that day, Chayni had repurposed it to accommodate his apprentices, as Ellay watched in silence. He had manipulated the repulsor energy with the Force, redirecting it around the cart, creating two partitions in the top section.

She stepped back along the beam, carefully. When she reached the trolley, Ellay peered over it. The girls were visible through the red fuzzy distortion of the makeshift energy field Chayni had created. They were both screaming, their faces contorted in anguish. Not a sound could be heard through the repulsor beam.

Ellay felt a pang of remorse at the sight of them, packed in like battery animals. She knew they were scared. But then, so was she. And she had a job to do. If she failed, she would be killed. And who would protect the girls then?

There was a release on the device which would shut the repulsor-lift off. Ellay had patched it through to be controlled by her comlink. When the energy beam went down, the girls' screams would cause an instant blackout. It was the last resort, the no-going-back button. The ultimate step in their plan. She had to time it perfectly.

Ellah forced herself to leave the girls where they were, and concentrate again on her task. She stepped to the end of the beam once more. She scanned the macro-bins over the shuttle bays, and felt a swoop through her abdomen as the transport she had been waiting for arrived. She watched as it docked, and tiny figures began to appear from the open doors. Zabrak, Chiss, some humans, but none of them the woman Ellay sought.

She watched, agitation increasing, as more people disembarked. Still no Alorida. The last passenger, a Bothan, got off. Ellay could see his scowl clearly through her lenses. She refused to panic, but felt sweat begin to coat her palms. Had the woman missed the shuttle? Had the blackouts disrupted the timetables more than she had accounted for?

But before Ellay's panic could increase, the shuttle doors opened once more, and Alorida appeared. Ellay recognised her from the Senate security holos, and also from Dengar's old holographs. Her dark hair was tied back. She wore a large grey scarf wrapped around her shoulders, half-concealing a plain white catsuit and flat boots. If Ellay had to guess, she would say the woman had dressed ready to run. Good choice.

Ellay watched as she moved away from the shuttle, down the wide statue-lined avenue that lead to the Senate's main, grandiose entrance. Alorida looked confused and Ellay knew why; this wasn't the regular drop off point for commuter shuttles. With the chaos in the timetable, it had been easy enough for Ellay to rearrange the final stop. It would send a better message, this way; in front of the Senate.

She watched Alorida's progress. When the woman had reached the end of the avenue, almost at the bottom of the dark granite steps leading into the Senate, Ellay knew it was the moment.

She raised her wrist comlink to speak into it.

"She's here. I'm starting."

After a moment Chayni's clipped voice came through in reply.

"Proceed."

Ellay breathed, and pressed the commlink once.

The shuttle-bus that Alorida had departed, still idling at the far end of the Senate plaza, exploded.

A violent issue of scarlet and amber flames consumed the vehicle, followed by a thundercloud of black, rotten smoke.

Ellay watched as people nearby were knocked back by the force of the blast. She could hear their screams from where she stood, high above them.

She looked away, uninterested, back to the entrance. It was critical Alorida did not leave. Ellay found her again, with the macro-bins, in the cavernous entrance. She looked stunned, as people scattered around her in panic. Ellay watched as Alorida turned back, took a step toward the blaze. Ellay willed the plan to succeed.

And then, Alorida looked over her shoulder, into the darkness of the Senate. Chayni emerged from the gloom behind her. He approached, made appropriate gestures of horror toward the wreckage, and, like a magnet, pulled her away.

Just as they had planned.

Ellay's heart skipped. Now for the finale. She glanced back again at the girls in their makeshift prison. She said a prayer for their safety.

Then she leapt from the beam.

Alderaanian Royal Penthouse

"I don't like this."

Leia stood abruptly from the table, leaving a plate of untouched food. Luke had left for the Senate a short while ago, and despite trying to go through the motions of an evening meal, his twin had been on edge since his departure.

Han, still sitting, rolled his eyes at her, his expression equal parts concern and bemusement.

He said, sing-song, "What would you like?"

Leia frowned at him. "That's not funny." They had started a conversation on Cloud City in the same way once, and had ended up prisoners of Vader, waiting for Luke to fall into the Sith Lord's trap. Han interpreted her thoughts correctly, and held his hands up in apology.

"I didn't mean it like that."

She relented. "I know, I'm sorry. I just... I don't like this at all."

"So you know what you have to do, right?" Asked Han, leaning back in his chair.

"What?"

"You're a Jedi. When in doubt, go practice."

"Han..." Leia began.

"You know I'm right." He flashed a smile. "I spent long enough listening to Luke for the last two years. Focus your mind, find your centre, the Force is your ally... that's how it goes, right?"

She allowed herself a smile. "Something like that." She sighed, and nodded. "I should go meditate. Why are you always right?"

Han just grinned. On impulse, she used the Force to lift a spice roll from her plate of uneaten food. It hovered in the air between them, sending little tremors back to her. After the years spent training with Luke she was used to the sensation, but it still amazed her from time to time, knowing that this power had been dormant within her.

After a moment she sent the roll spinning towards Han, who laughed and ducked under the table. She smiled again, more fully.

"Don't meditate." He said, resurfacing. "You should do some combat training."

"With the 'saber?"

"Yeah. There's a fight coming, and I don't need any Force powers to know that. After the last one, you need to practice."

Leia laughed. "I think we all do. Come on then, and bring a blaster with you. It's better than practising against a droid."

They walked through the penthouse to the training room, a few corridors away. The room had once been ambassadorial quarters, but disused since the destruction of Leia's homeworld. There were no more Alderaanian ambassadors left to use it. Shortly before their return to Coruscant, Leia had sent ahead instruction to convert the some of the rooms into training quarters; a temporary measure until the Jedi Temple could be fully rebuilt.

They entered. It was an empty space, windowless, and walled in soft grey cushioned panels. Han stood next to the control panel on the wall by the door.

"What are you thinking?" He asked.

Leia stepped into the centre of the room, and shook off the long outer-robe she wore. Underneath were simple Jedi robes, similar to Luke's black garments, but instead pure white. Her lightsaber hung from a thin sash around her waist.

"Hide and seek?" She replied.

Han grinned, and pressed a series of buttons. At once, panels and ledged appeared from the walls and floor, creating a maze around them. Han, hidden from her sight, called out, "Ready when you are."

Leia unhooked her 'saber. "Let's go."

She began to focus, to feel the Force calling to her. She almost didn't have to try anymore; after two years of Luke's training it was close to second nature. But it was not quite effortless, yet.

First, breathe. Close your eyes. Concentrate on a blank space in your mind. Soon it starts whispering, but from inside. Everything goes still around you, quiet and meek. Your every molecule attunes to it, your whole body taut as a bowstring, with the Force's vibrations rippling through you like the first notes of a song...

As she moves, she can feel every particle of the air brushing against her skin. She exists in the space between heartbeats. She opens her eyes, the grey world around her transforms into a luminous spectrum.

Han is hidden within the maze ahead but she knows exactly where he stands. She closes her eyes again and he's like a sun burning on the inside of her eyelids; white, red, gold.

Han begins to fire and the 'saber almost ignites itself in her hand; she's getting so good at this. Her eyes have opened again without her notice, and with a spin of the blade she deflects the bolt to be safely absorbed in a floor panel.

Han is on the move, his footsteps muffled by the padded floor, but that's not how Leia senses him; he is a blaze in her mind, heat and light radiating through the Force. She feels utterly awake, the ordinary world around her merging with that of the Force into a hyper-reality. The thrum of the lightsaber in her hands is like a symphony, the blade the same shining blue as a morning sky. She deflects another bolt, with ease, with joy...

Then, quite suddenly, her link to the Force was broken.

Hyper-reality jolted back into reality. The 'saber vibrated in her grip, but nothing more than that. The Force still called in her mind, but muted, as if from under glass. A wave of dizziness came over her, and she stumbled forward. Leia breathed deeply, willing her composure to return. After a moment she felt steadier, and called out for Han to come back.

There was a noise from around behind one of the panels, and Han hesitated into view. "You lost it, huh?"

She nodded.

"Was it me? I was talking."

Leia shook her head. "No, I don't think so."

"I was doing it on purpose, you know, to try and put you off."

"It wasn't you. I just have to learn to keep my concentration." Leia retracted her lightsaber, and looked up him. "What did you say, anyway?"

"I said, you never told me what you don't like."

"Hmm?" She murmured, still distracted by her own lapse.

"Earlier, when you were on hunger strike." Han nodded back toward the dining chamber.

"Oh, I don't know; it's just a feeling." She said, evasive.

Han raised his eyebrows.

"I guess I don't understand why only Luke can go to this meeting." Leia admitted.

"You know why. Senator Dengar's-sister still has issues with me."

"I don't know." Leia looked away, concentrating on the lightsaber hilt in her palm. "It feels like an excuse. We only have Tular's word to go on. I guess I don't trust it."

"You don't trust it, or you don't trust him?" Han said, in a now-we're-getting-somewhere tone.

"I don't know him. What Threepio said yesterday stuck with me, I guess. What do we really know about him? He didn't join the Rebellion until the end, and everything he's done here on Coruscant was while we were away." Leia sighed. "I should have stayed here, after Endor. I should have stayed in the Senate, and kept an eye on everything."

"No." Said Han flatly. "You're more than that. You're a Jedi now."

"Sometimes I think I'd make a better senator."

"Maybe. It's what you were good at, once. But now you're something more. And I think you need something more. You always liked a fight." He grinned, and stepped closer to her. "You're a warrior."

Leia grimaced. "Jedi aren't warriors."

"If you say so. But if Jedi aren't, senators definitely ain't." He wrapped his hand around hers, clutching the dormant lightsaber. "You have this gift, and you can't ignore it. Luke needs you to fight alongside him. We all do." He smiled. "You know, any fool can be a senator."

"It takes a special kind of fool to be a Jedi, is that what you mean?" She replied.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean." Han rolled his eyes, sighing.

Leia smiled in apology. "I'm sorry. I just feel different here. When we were training, with Luke, it all felt right. But now we're back, I feel like I should go back to how I was before. Like that was all a dream, and now I'm waking up."

"Don't talk about dreams, ok?" Han laughed. "Let's go again."

"Ok." She agreed, and stepped back from him. She re-ignited the 'saber, and swung it up before her face, in readiness.

Before they could begin, the maze panels surrounding them sank back into the walls. Leia caught a glimpse of Han's puzzled face, across the room, before the lighting cells above went out. They were plunged into a blackout once again.

To Leia's surprise, however, her lightsaber remained alight. Its faint shine was enough to see Han as he stepped over to her.

"Another power-cut." He said. "Whole planet again?"

"Yes." Leia replied without hesitation; she just knew. She understood then what had caused her Force connection to be broken during their training. She hadn't experienced many, so it had been easy to overlook; a Disturbance. And she knew exactly where it had happened.

"We have to get to the Senate." She said, and Han nodded.

They left, Leia holding the lightsaber aloft ahead of them, the dim blue glow a beacon in the darkness.

Coruscant: Lower Levels

The Desperado

"Hey, kid! Hey! Stop staring at that blue piece of ass and come help me!"

Sya's head jerked up. He had been staring, but not at the hologram of the Twi'lek dancer on the bar, as his new boss had thought. There was a customer, sat alone at the bar, who had caught his attention.

He was unlike the rowdy patrons Sya had gotten used to serving. Quiet, withdrawn to the point of being aloof. He didn't even drink much. Sya had served him a drink about an hour ago that was still untouched on the bar in front of him. At the same time Sya had tried to strike up a conversation with him, but hadn't got very far. The guy just sat in silence, lost in his thoughts or the melancholy music playing over the bar's sound system. Sya had ignored him, and got on with his work.

Before his name had been called, Sya noticed the man again, at the end of the bar. It had quietened down, and there were only a few customers sat in the shadowy booths in the far corners of the club. The enigmatic customer was still alone. Sya considered trying again for a conversation, before the rush of evening customers started coming in. He had a feeling there was more to this guy than silence.

But there was another shout from the storeroom, and Sya tore himself away. He wouldn't keep Al, the bar's owner waiting; not after the man's kindness to him.

Sya had only recently become the bartender in Al's bar, the Desperado. It had been his first lucky break since arriving on Coruscant after the massacre on Trangor Prime. Sya felt a strange kinship with the nightclub. He had come to Al's bar on his first morning on the Capital. It was there where he had discovered his ship had been stolen; ten thousand borrowed credits up in smoke.

With nowhere else to go and no way to get there, he'd sat in the bar most days, waiting for inspiration, or at least a ticket off Coruscant. The only person who'd been interested in him, though, had been a green-skinned alien woman, who wanted information on Trangor Prime, and Boba Fett. She'd gone when Sya could only tell her about Dengar. He had the feeling she meant to insult him when she left, but Sya had just been glad of the company.

After the blackouts a couple of days later, Al's Rodian doorman turned up dead in the alley behind the bar. Al was short-staffed and unsentimental; Sya found a paycheck. It wasn't much, but it was the best way to buy a ticket home. Sya was determined not to screw this chance up.

He hurried to the back room and helped Al bring a few more containers of drinks out to the bar. As he restocked the shelves and refilled the array of drinks dispensers, he couldn't help but look again at the lonely patron.

Sya stared at him through the blue holo dancer on the bar, so the guy wouldn't notice his gaze. It distorted the view, but Sya could see well enough that the man looked tired. Dark hair, a few old scars, a couple of day's stubble. No greys yet, but Sya guessed it wouldn't be long. His face was weathered, and somehow gaunter than Sya thought it should be. He wore an oversized, dusty poncho that disguised his arms and chest. From the way the material settled over hard angles, Sya could guess what was worn underneath. It couldn't be…

"Getcha another drink?" He asked the stranger.

The man shook his head. He still didn't seem in the mood to talk. But Sya was no novice; he had learned how to coax words from uninterested customers in his last job, in the casino on his homeworld. He moved down the bar so he stood opposite the man, under the pretext of rearranging glasses and cups.

"Just land on Coruscant today?"

The man flicked his eyes over Sya, gave a wary stare, but nodded his head slightly.

"Well, you missed some fun. You know the whole planet was shut down in a power cut a few days back?"

The man murmured in agreement.

"You don't talk much, huh?" Sya grinned. "That's ok, I can just rattle on."

A dead-eyed stare was the only reply he got.

"They said on the holo-news that no-one was hurt in the blackout." Sya continued to talk, ignoring the silence from the other side of the bar. "I mean, it's true no ships crashed or anything like that. But there were casualties." His eyes flicked up to meet the other man's. "A guy was murdered round the back of this bar, for instance."

Still just silence, but there was now a flicker of curiosity in the stare. Sya knew he had got his attention.

"Yeah. I actually knew the guy; big Rodian. He was the bouncer here. That's how I came by this job – there was an opening." He smirked. "The funny thing is though, I was there when the police-bots came to take the body away. I heard what they said. And, uh, nobody else knows that I know this so let's keep it between us." He leaned over the bar, and the man at the bar edged forwards too, an infinitesimal amount.

"They couldn't figure out the cause of death. Said he'd been choked, but there wasn't a mark on him."

The man continued to gaze at him, expression completely unreadable. His face was a mask.

"You look like a man who's seen a thing or two. You ever see anything like that?"

There was silence, for a long while. The man inhaled. Looked at Sya. Exhaled. Sya did not break his gaze. The space between them stretched out like a wasteland. Sya could almost taste noxious air in the back of his throat with every breath.

After an eternity, the man shrugged.

Before Sya could press him any further, the hologram of the Twi'lek, still cavorting on the bar between them, flickered. She was replaced by the image of a Coruscantine news anchor. Sya and the bar patron both looked down.

"We interrupt this broadcast with some breaking news from the Senate, where we are getting reports of an explosion. The cause seems to have been a commuter shuttle at the end of the Senate plaza. We can't confirm any casualties at the moment. We don't know whether this was an accident, or a planned attack. Stay with us for full updates – wait, wait. I'm being told we can go to a live feed from one of our holo-droids now."

The scene played out in miniature on the bar between them. The twisted wreck of the transport smouldered at the end of the wide senate avenue, belching ash and smoke. People ran, screaming. Then the droid zoomed in on the Senate entrance. It followed something plummeting from the eaves far above. A shape that became a woman. The feathers of her tail unfurled and billowed as she fell.

She landed gracefully in front of the steps leading to the Senate, hover-pads in her boots breaking her fall. She turned, and looked directly at the camera droid. Sya's stomach flipped. It was his interrogator on bounty hunters, and Trangor Prime, and Boba Fett.

Her blaster was in her hand. She aimed it at the camera-droid, and the holo picture dissolved into static.

Sya looked up, mind racing. But the bar stool across from him was empty.

His silent friend was nowhere to be seen. The dim lights above the bar flickered, then went dark.

Coruscant: Lower levels

Boba pulled the dusty poncho over his head to reveal the scarred Mandalorian armour underneath. He discarded the garment on the ground in the alley, amongst broken bottles and discarded credit chips. Stealth was no longer necessary. The blackout would take care of it for him.

She was at the Senate. He guessed as much, really, when he had arrived back at her empty apartment less than an hour previously. There had been no sign of a struggle, just a locked door and darkened windows.

His first thought had been that she might have gone to Dengar; he had even considered sending a holo to check. But he didn't know how to have that conversation, yet.

The other, worse possibility had been the Sith.

But he didn't know for sure. That there had been nothing out of the ordinary at her apartment, no sign of disturbance, was puzzling. If she had gone to the Sith, she had gone willingly.

So he had found a grubby bar, the Desperado, to wait in. He guessed he would get some kind of signal, one way or another, if he waited long enough.

And now the signal had been sent.

He felt sick, an acidic taste in the back of his throat, at the thought of her in danger. She was bait, he knew. The Sith wanted him to come to the Senate. To go would be to play into the Sith's plan.

He looked down at his helmet, tucked underneath his arm. It had been hidden by the folds of material of his cloak as he sat at the bar. He began to raise it to put it on. As he did, he felt something cold, and angular, press against the back of his neck. A blaster.

"You know, friend, this is where they found that Rodian I was telling you about."

Boba turned his head a fraction. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the muzzle of the blaster. It was being held by the blue-haired bartender.

"Don't move. I know exactly who you are. I worked it out."

Boba considered him for a moment. Could this boy be an agent of the Sith? He thought back to their one-sided conversation in the bar. The blue haired human had been very interested in him. His description of the Rodian's death had been telling. Boba knew Vader's methods when he heard them.

No. The longer Boba looked, the more it was clear that his assailant was just a kid, and he was acting alone. This was not someone with the swagger of the Dark Side backing them. He was trying to look tough, but Boba could see the fear in his eyes. He could feel the blaster trembling in the boy's grip.

Boba started to turn away, unimpressed, impatient to leave. The younger man pushed the pistol against his skin with more force. Boba stopped moving.

"Pay. Attention. You're not going anywhere." He said. "That alien, on the holo-news? She was looking for you, here. And I've found you. So do you know what happens now?"

Boba raised his eyebrows in question.

"We're going to the Senate. And I am trading you, Boba Fett, for a ticket off of this dump."

Boba couldn't help an incredulous frown. "That's it?"

"What do you mean 'that's it'? Yeah, that's it! I think you're worth about a ship." The boy smirked. "More or less."

The boy jabbed the blaster again, trying to push him forward. Boba did not move.

"Take this serious, man! I'm a bounty hunter." The boy tried to sound menacing but his voice shook. "I was on Trangor Prime too. My name is Sya Jarpo. I want you to remember that."

Boba ignored him. He had heard enough. Calmly, he raised his gloved hand, and grasped the muzzle of the blaster. He pushed it away from his neck.

"Are you stupid?" Sya shouted. "I have a blaster pointed at your head here!"

"Then shoot."

Sya did. The blaster gave a hollow click.

Boba turned, fully, to see the confusion in the boy's eyes.

"Power cut." Boba explained, and struck him across the face.

Sya went sprawling backwards across the ground, scattering trash cans. Boba stepped over to him, and looked down.

"You are no bounty hunter. A bounty hunter always looks out for things that go too well." He quoted.

Humiliation, and anger, were etched across Sya's face. His yellow eyes looked up at Boba hatefully. He opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Go back to tending bar." Boba said, and turned away from him. He put his helmet on, holstered the boy's blaster, and walked out of the alley.

Sya Jarpo was half-right, Boba thought. He was going to the Senate. He hadn't come all this way for nothing.

If you must walk into a trap, do it with your eyes open.