"Ras Alvtorr—"

"I do not wish to speak with you."

"Alvtorr—"

"I do not wish to speak with you!"

"Alvtorr—"

"Go away! I will not speak with you!"

"You do not have to. Now listen."

"No! No, I won't! I won't I won't I won't!" Alvtorr stamped his foot in a childish display of temper and his eyes flared with lightning.

"I have learned that the children of Solo and their friends seek their parents."

"So? Let them look! They're children! They're useless! They won't find anything—"

"The children of Solo are more resourceful than that. I am going to find and stop them."

"Fine! Do whatever you wish! Just do not allow the Wookiee to escape again! Fail me once more…"

"I cannot stop you from being a fool. Do what you wish. If you let the Wookiee out again, that is not my problem." Fett turned on one booted heel and stalked from the room.

"Well—fine! Go! Leave! I don't need you! Not at all! Go! Get out! Leave!"

Fett continued his exit as if he hadn't heard anything.

"Get out! Go away!" Alvtorr screamed and fumed futilely. He turned and grabbed the small, heavy statue from a table and flung it at the departing bounty hunter. It tangled in his long robes and he pitched to the floor. After cursing and raging futilely, he fought to his feet and stormed off to sulk.

The Slave VII lifted off in search of the Solo children…

"Zekk! Get up here—now!" the sleeping young man tumbled off his bunk and had his boots on his feet and shirt buttoned before his eyes were opened. He scrambled to the cockpit rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Wha—" he swallowed and tried again, "What's the matter?"

"Quick—shields up!" Without question, Zekk complied, flicking the switch and sliding into the co-pilot's seat.

"What is it?" he tried again, scanning the instrument panel—and got his answer. A boogey at 2 o'clock—coming in faster than most ships could, and…"Smeggin' Kest!"

"Yep. I was right?"

"Sure were," Zekk cursed, "it's him alright."

"Sithspawned cross-bred slimy piece of worm-ridden filth!"

"Yeah—but can we do that later? Now—how about we try and keep from having to shoot it out with him? No matter how many modifications we've packed into this hulk, I don't know if we should pit her against the Slave…whatever smeggin' number it is!"

"Good point…now let's show this scum who he's messing with!" Jaina's face curled into an expression reminiscent of her father's when he was determined to show someone how good he was—and the smile was not altogether a pleasant one!

The two quickly exchanged places—they were both good pilots and gunners, but Zekk knew his ship better, and could tell how far he could reasonably push her.

"Well, copilot—may the Force be with you!" quickly, the two powered up their systems and prepared to intercept.

Well, they thought they were prepared to intercept. That illusion was shattered when the Slave VII vanished.

"Huh? Where did that son of a—"

"Zekk! Look out! Coming in at 6 o'clock!"

Instinctively Zekk jerked the Lightning Rod up and away from Fett's fire. "Smeg," he cursed, "that was close—whoa!"

Boba Fett pulled his ship into a barrel roll and came out shooting, flying directly at the Lighting Rod. Zekk spun his ship to port and the Slave VII blew past, turbolasers bristling. Zekk turned the Lighting Rod in an abrupt about-face to give chase. Jaina's laserfire tracked across the void towards the Slave VII that cut down and to starboard, coming up to the side of the Lighting Rod and almost out of rang from Jaina's guns.

Almost—she fired repeatedly at the Slave VII with the ship's starboard turbolasers. Fett pulled into a double barrel roll and the Lighting Rod shuddered from the repeated blasts.

"Jaina! Shoot him already!"

"I'm trying—if you weren't shaking the ship so much I would!"

"If I don't dodge he'll cream us!"

"Well don't do it when I have a perfect shot!"

"Shoot faster!"

"Fly straighter!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The two subsided into a tense silence—interspersed with a few colorful descriptions—as they fought desperately to survive this high-intensity space battle…

"I got him, I got him—" Jaina began gleefully as a small explosion on the outer hull of the Slave VII gave testimony that his shield's had failed—

Or at least it would have in any other ship. But Jaina's next volley still encountered the shields…somehow.

"How the Smeg did he do that…" a backup maybe? she wondered in confusion.

"Jaina, we got trouble!"

"His shields died, but then they came back up. That's impossible…"
"Jaina, that wasn't his shields dying! That was him firing a Dymek concussion missile!"

"What? But those things are so illegal they cost more than the entire—"

"Do you honestly think he cares if their legal or not? Besides, now is not the time to start debating legalities—we're about to—"

A very large boom broke Zekk's words off, and sent the small ship tumbling through space.

"Zekk! What was that?" Their fingers flew over the controls, bypassing broken systems, trying to get a damage assessment, setting circuitry repairs in motion with one hand and flying or shooting with the other.

"Jaina—he hit us! The Dymek was a decoy—I dodged it—right into his missile!"

"What kind?"

"A missile—just a plain old missile—but it's still deadly, and I'd appreciate a little more tactical help and a little less mechanical assessing!"
"I'm trying to figure out how bad—"

"Look at the console—it's bad. Really bad." Zekk pulled the Lightning Rod into a barrel roll to escape another blast.

"Ouch. It is…. Zekk, how much more of this pounding can she take?"
"I don't know…but I don't want to find out!"

"Good idea. So: What are we gonna do about it?"

"Good news: I've got a plan. Bad news: I have no clue how to pull it off…"

In the cockpit of the Slave VII Boba Fett watched the Lighting Rod with a hunter's eye. He could tell that the two had to be planning something—either that or their ship suffered a "Millennium Falcon Complex"—no working hyperdrive. He doubted that.

Behind the dark visor of his helmet, Boba Fett's eyes narrowed…abruptly, he reached behind the pilot's chair and flipped a hidden panel open. He toggled a switch on and guided a tracker-circle across his viewport until it landed on the hovering and dodging Lighting Rod. He flipped the switch the full way down and a light bleeped. The whole process had taken a matter of seconds.

And now…his comm buzzed with static and he made a minor adjustment. Suddenly, he could hear the young Jedi Knights.

What Fett had done was sliced into their console computer—gambling that they would be so busy they wouldn't notice—and remotely turning on their comm. Until they noticed and switched it off manually, he could eavesdrop on them. He rarely employed it—usually, of course, there was little need. But Fett had run into these Jedi brats before—and he knew that they could be very resourceful. He decided, for now, to lean towards the side of caution. It cost his ship little power and almost no shield strength—he doubted he would need it all. But, if he would, this way he would know about it before it was needed. Depending, of course, on what the two said.

Silence was not just to hide information or intimidate others. It could also be employed in eavesdropping. Since there was rarely any sounds from Boba Fett, a sudden comm-blocker would not be noticed…nor would his listening in.

"Won't he exp…tha…and will…but…" Fett frowned in annoyance and slightly recalibrated the equipment he used for receiving. The battle must have damaged it slightly—knocked it off balance. He would have to adjust that later.

"I see, Zekk. But how to pull it off?" That would be Solo's daughter. The mechanical one with the violet lightsaber. Took after her mother with her leadership capabilities. And her father with her mouth and recklessness. One to watch carefully.

"That's easy! We just have to trick him." And that was the former bounty hunter and reformed Dark Jedi. Naive and overconfident of his powers. Also perhaps still doubting his use of the mystical "Force" from his days under Brakiss at the Shadow Academy. Fett would have to investigate that more fully. If his sources were correct—and they rarely were not—he had recently constructed a lightsaber; one of an orange hue. He and Solo's daughter seemed to have a romantic status. That could be used against them; love was more than a useless emotion, it was something that got you killed much easier and a whole lot faster.

"And just how do you think we'll do that? He's a little bit smarter than some ordinary criminal, you know." Hmm. She also seemed to assess her opponents without Jedi-overconfidence like the Zekk.

"Oh, easy. Here, let me explain…" As Zekk outlined his plans, Boba Fett shook his helmeted head over the simpleness and inexperience of the youth. Even without his advantage of knowing exactly what they were planning, he never would have fallen for something so simple. Yet another weakness he could exploit.

These two would be rather simple to eliminate for all their so-called Force-talent…but Boba Fett didn't want them dead—not yet, at least. He wanted them out of the way—but alive. Based on their abilities from earlier encounters and his intelligence sources, those two would survive what he had planned. If they didn't, too bad. It wouldn't brake his heart (if he still had one)—and Fett always had more than one play in every hand.

Now, to play the Jedi for fools…rather tricky considering they could sense deception and lies. Tricky, but not impossible.

Where Boba Fett was concerned, nothing was impossible.