Chapter Text
Thaydra peered between the beige buildings, into a beige street, looking out for the three thugs she had spent the past hour running from. One wore a red sash at his waist, one wore bug-eyed goggles, and the third was a orange-skinned fellow whose species she did not recognize. The orange-skinned fellow appeared to be the boss, the goggle-wearer was the muscle, and the sash-sporter was their tracker, sniffing the air whenever they lost sight of Thaydra.
As she moved forward slightly, she tried her best to listen. The bright light from Tatooine’s twin suns did nothing to help the splitting headache she already had from goggle’s crack to her skull. Even a half-Dathmoirian had their limits for head trauma.
Thaydra moved forward, quiet as the dead, until she came to the street. Carefully, she looked out. To her left, all clear. To her right, all three thugs.
“Kriffing biscuits.”, she hissed as she spun backward, running at her top speed to get away from the thugs.
Ever since Bib Fortuna had taken over from Jabba the Hut, Mos Eisley had gone further to the pits. It had never been great. However, at least as a slave to Jabba, she had been granted the protection of no one else daring to touch Jabba’s property. Now she was just another petty criminal, living in the streets.
Just as Thaydra thought she was in the clear, a charged net dropped over her. The sting of the net made every mucle in her body spasm, her jaw locked shut and both her hearts skittering out of rhythm. Goggles and Red-Sash loomed over her, smug. Thaydra wanted to strangle them with their own leg bones.
The orange-skinned fellow walked up, muttering in a language Thaydra didn’t recognize. She was about to scream when suddenly, all three men were knocked down. Two Gamorreans now stood over her, brandishing their cleavers.
“Who’s this?”
A Mandalorian came into view with a slender, dark-clad figure at his side. Thaydra did not hear the slender figure’s response, but she did see the figure reach for something on one of the thug’s jackets and retrieving a controller. The figure pressed a button and the net’s charge snapped out, finally allowing Thaydra to breathe and relax her twitching muscles.
“Why were these men chasing you?”, asked the Mandalorian.
“I’m Dathmoirian. They thought I’d make a good slave for some wealthy buyer.”
The Mandalorian gave a nod.
“Bring them to the palace.”
“All of them?”, asked the woman in the dark clothing and orange helmet.
“All of them.”
<^><^><^><^><^>
Returning to Jabba’s palace brought no pleasant memories for Thaydra. The last terrible memory being that day when it was whispered among the slaves that Jubba was dead, many of his court gone, and that a Jedi was responsible. Thaydra knew the ability to use the Force had run in her mother’s family, as many Dathmoirian women could use the mythic abilities. It had not surprised her to learn a Jedi had been Jabba’s undoing.
In the weeks following, the city of Mos Eisley had been up for grabs. A power vacuum that nearly tore the place to shreds before Bib Fortuna took the throne. He wasn’t particularly good at the job, he just had enough paid muscle to keep some semblance of peace.
Now, standing in the throne room, looking up at the Mandalorian and his orange-helmeted companion, Thaydra wished she had gotten off of Tatooine. Somehow. The two Gamorreans dragged the three thugs in, wrapped in the same net that had previously felled Thaydra.
“Dathmoirian,” the Mandalorian started, “what brings you to Mos Eisley?”
“My mother, when I was young. I’ve been here almost 25 years.”
She saw the helmet tilt slightly and she imagined the man beneath it arching an eyebrow at her.
“She left shortly after. I was raised by a nomad named Kier. When he died in a raid, I went for help. Jabba’s men found me and brought me to him to be a slave.”
“How long did Jubba have you?”
“Four years.”
“You are not full-blooded Dathmoirian.”
“No.”
“Human?”
“No.”
“I will not continue to guess.”
“You’ve probably never heard of my father’s people. Most haven’t. What do you want of me, my lord?”
“You sound rather demanding of Lord Fett.”, came a challenging tone from the woman at the side of the throne.
The Mandalorian held up a hand as if cautioning the woman to tone it down a bit.
“I take it you are not aware who I am.”
“Bib’s replacement.”
“I am Boba Fett.”
Thaydra’s mouth dropped open. Boba Fett. The famed bounty hunter.
Months ago, she had been told he was among those killed by the Jedi who destroyed Jabba’s whole inner circle. Either the stories were completely untrue or Fett had survived something no one believed survivable. Thaydra would lean towards the latter, from what little she knew of Mandalorians.
“You’ve heard of me.”
She nodded, closing her mouth.
“What did you do for Jabba? Your hands do not look like those of a pleasure slave.”
She supposed they didn’t, with all the scars and callouses.
“I was a mechanic, of sorts. I fixed everything from doors to his sail barge.”
“And now?”
Thaydra let out a slow breath.
“I do whatever I can to survive.”
“I am in need of a protocol droid, among other things.”, he said leaning forward in the throne chair, “Could you fix one up if I found you the parts you require?”
“Jabba used to have most of an RM-2020 droid in one of the chambers down below. If it’s still there, I can build you a protocol droid.”
“How long?”
“If the droid is where I left it, when it was brought in, two days.”
Boba Fett turned to the woman in the helmet. The two appeared to have a non-verbal conversation in vague, little gestures. Then, Boba Fett turned back to Thaydra.
“You’ve two days. Fennec will escort you downstairs to find what you need and get you any tools you require. I will see you in two days.”
<^><^><^><^><^>
Thankfully, the RM-2020 had been right where Thaydra had left it months ago. Fennec helped Thaydra locate a couple toolboxes and a small bedroll to use to catch a few short hours of sleep. A pit droid had brought her three meals and some water while she worked, though otherwise Thaydra had been undisturbed since Fennec left.
Now, sitting in front of her was a floating RM-2020 that had been repurposed as a protocol droid. It did not speak the 6-million languages of a proper protocol droid, though Thaydra had programmed him to be able to understand most of the droids on Tatooine, as well as all the most common languages spoken by various sentient beings, and a handful of the lesser languages found on Tatooine. If given enough time and spare parts, she could probably get the RM unit up to around half a million languages it could communicate in, and half again in languages it would understand but be unable to respond back in.
She had re-worked it’s broken left appendage, giving it more ability for scooping and holding items, as the weapons were non-functioning and beyond what repair she could manage without some pricy parts. The RM unit’s right appendage would still function as a weapon, as she had been able to fix the blaster on there and had added a little touch of her own. Like herself, the RM unit now had the ability to see the UV spectrum, and would be more effective in low-light situations than when it came off the assembly line.
“Thaydra Rae.”
She turned and looked up from her repair pit, seeing Fennec standing in the doorway of the room. The assassin might have been on the smaller side for a human, yet she was intimidating. Most people did not intimidate Thaydra, though she had a healthy respect for the damage Fennec could inflict on a body.
“Yes?”
“Boba Fett requests your presence and the fruits of your labor.”
Quickly, Thaydra commanded the droid to follow her as she trailed behind Fennec. The droid took a moment to get it’s bearings before smoothly floating behind Thaydra. Neither woman spoke as they walked and Thaydra had no idea exactly how much time had passed since she had last stood before Boba Fett.
He had promised he would see her in two days. As such, she assumed it had been two days. Passing a long, narrow window, Thaydra had to shield her face with her hand, the bright light of the twin suns feeling like a pick driven into her skull.
“The light bothers you?”, Fennec inquired.
“My father’s people were from what he called a twilight world. My mother said he could see in the dark, so I assume I owe my headaches to him.”
“Perhaps you should ask for a shaded visor to wear.”
“I prefer to avoid the outdoors during the daylight hours. Too hot, too dry, and too bright.”
“Sounds like you’re on the wrong planet.”
“Indeed.”
They came to the throne room again. Fennec, as before, moved to hover at Boba Fett’s right. Thaydra almost laughed. Right-hand man, of course.
The smelting droid, 8D8, ushered Thaydra to stand directly in front of the dais. At the sight of the RM droid, the 8D8 unit hissed out an insult. The RM made no response.
“Is this your protocol droid?”, asked the former bounty hunter.
“It is. I present the RM-2020, outfitted with new programming, as well as replacement parts for those I could not mend or replicate perfectly, as well as a few upgrades. He now speaks almost a quarter of a million languages and can respond back in most of them. Given some time and more spare parts, I can triple that. His left appendage was damaged beyond repair, so now he has a new arm and hand, made for scooping, holding, and carrying items- including a full grown human, if need be. His right appendage is now in full working order with a small blaster, capable of handling close-range targets in minimal armor. I’ve outfitted him with UV photoreceptors, so he can aim and fire in low-light and in the dark. The armor on his back was damaged, so I’ve replaced it with some spare plating off another smelting droid that was missing it’s head and legs.”
“Can he translate all the local languages?”
“Even the growls of a Tuskan.”
Boba gave a single nod.
“Alright. Lets put the RM unit to the test.”
Boba turned to Fennec and gave her a nod. His partner understood and exited the room. For a tense moment, Boba sat looking down at the Dathmoirian woman before him. Well, half Dathmoirian.
As was tall, her head devoid of hair except for her dark eyebrows over gray-blue skin so pale it almost looked white in the low light of the throne room. Her build suggested she had some muscle to her under her ill-fitting, poorly patched jumpsuit, with broad shoulders and a wider stance to match. Most striking were her bright yellow-green eyes. He had never known a Dathmoirian to have such a shade of iris though he had only known a small handful.
One thing he recalled his father telling him of the Dathmoirian women, they often had the ability to use the Force, much like the Jedi. However, they used it for darker, more sly purposes than moving boxes or swinging lightsabers. Even Jango had been wary of dealing with a Dathmoirian.
Fennec returned with three aliens who had been awaiting an audience with the new lord of Mos Eisley’s criminal underworld. The three spoke different languages, were all unable to speak Basic, and had no languages in common with one another from what Fennec had been able to gather. If this RM unit worked as Boba required, he would finally be able to communicate with these three.
He watched as Thaydra hit a small switch on the RM unit that appeared to have the droid come out of some energy-saving mode and be more actively attuned to it’s surroundings. The first alien spoke with the RM unit listening intently before turning to Boba. The lively, somewhat mechanical voice translated.
“He wishes for his lord Fett, to know that he brings gifts of tribute. Fruit from off-world. He would like to bring it tomorrow evening to be enjoyed by his new lord with his evening meal. He would also like the lord Fett to know his entire family pledge their loyalty to the worthy successor of Jabba the Hutt.”
“Tell him that he may make the delivery of his fruit, tomorrow before the first sun sets.”
The droid relayed the information, seemingly pleasing the alien. The alien smiled, nodding and bowing in quick rhythms, before heading back out of the room. The second alien came, the RM unit translating the alien’s wishes to bring a tribute of two smaller sail barges for Boba to have, each big enough to support 20 humans and several serving droids. The final alien wished to bring a pair of guard droids to help protect the palace.
Each alien walked away happy to be understood and to now understand their new master. Boba was impressed by the skill of the RM droid. And, he was impressed with the woman who had programmed it.
“Your RM droid has proven itself. And you.”
She nodded.
“If I were to ask you to stay and be my mechanic, what pay would you require?”
“When Jabba owned me, I had shared quarters with three of his musicians also under his ownership, and was offered one meal a day, and a small share of water.”
“And now?”
“I would ask a room of my own, two meals a day, and a measure of water. For that, I will repair anything you needed repaired from your armor to those droids and barges you were offered in tribute.”
“On call, for anything in need of repair?”
“Yes.”
“For room and board?”
“I might request that you allow me to work more in the evening and through the night, sleeping during the day.”
“Because of your eyes. I have noticed how you squint everywhere except down in your repair pits and here in the darkened throne room.”
There were a handful of species Boba Fett could name, who had very sensitive eyes that were a great boon to them in low light, yet were a great hinderance in brightly lit rooms or under the twin suns of Tatooine. To her credit, Thaydra did not appear shocked at his knowing or noticing her eyes.
“Then you understand why I prefer to be nocturnal on this cursed planet.”
“I do.”
Boba let out a breath. Beside him, Fennec appeared bored. Boba knew better.
“Then we have a deal, Thaydra Rae. You will have a room of your own, meals, water, and hours to your liking, in return for all the repairs I can call you for. For now, the suns are high. Fennec will show you to a room where you can rest until dusk. Then, I have a repair I need from you.”
“I am well. I could go to work now.”
“It is an item that cannot be moved, in a room with a wide window and shallow balcony.”
Thaydra nodded, seeming to understand. Her headache from working in Boba Fett’s rooms would be one likely too bad for her to be effective at her job. Boba was also aware, via Fennec, that Thaydra had slept less than three hours since Boba had last seen her.
“If you wish, Fennec can have a meal sent to you before you retire.”
“No thank you. The offer of some sleep is too good to pass up.”
She gave a nod of thanks before following Fennec out. Half an hour later, Fennec returned with a bottle of spotchka and a cranky expression. Boba removed his helmet and sat back on the throne chair.
“I am not her nanny.”
“I’m aware.”
“Then why do you keep having me lead her around?”
“Because she appears to respect you, and you are good at reading people. What did you glean from the extra half hour with her?”
Fennec took a swig of her spotchka before answering.
“Smart, well-versed in the mechanical workings of droids. She’s an orphan, or might as well be, and accustomed to looking after herself. She keeps a watchful eye like someone trained to defend themselves. Even as a half-Dathmoirian, she has two hearts, as she mentioned that. She instantly set to organizing her tools the moment she laid hands on them, and when I showed her to the room you had said to take her to if she wanted to stay, the first thing she asked was if she could go get her tools to make sure she had them if called for. She did not ask for food, more clothes, or privacy, she asked for her tools.”
“Very practical.”
“Very.”
Another swig of spotchka.
“She is brave.”
Fennec nodded.
“Foolish. She should have left when Jabba died.”
“I do not think she had anywhere else to go. Orphan, no allegiances, no allies, no old friends, and no ties to her Dathmoirian side nor whatever her father’s origin was.”
Fennec arched an eyebrow.
“You really believe she doesn’t know?”
“I believe she knows very little, and is aware most around her know less.”
“I miss the days when I could just shoot whatever annoyed me.”
Boba chuckled to himself.
“Those were the days.”
<^><^><^><^><^>
Boba walked to the room of his new mechanic. As he opened the door, he saw her starting to sit up, wiping at her puffy eyes. She looked almost as tired now as she had before he had sent her off with Fennec.
She wore a simple shirt and mid-calf length pants, all in pale yellow, her ragged jumpsuit draped over the bottom of the bed. Her shoes were next to the bed, haphazardly thrown there, while her toolboxes were clean and lined up as if ready to be called into service at the drop of a helmet. She was both messy and organized, like a certain other Mandalorian Boba had recently encountered.
“Are you able to work on something delicate?”, he asked through his helmet’s voice modulator.
Thaydra nodded before yawning against the back of her hand.
“Give me a moment to grab my tools and pull on my clothes, and I’ll be ready to fix anything in the palace.”
He gave a nod, stepping back out to let her get dressed. Boba was many things, though he was not a peeper who watched someone getting dressed without their invitation to do so. A moment later, Thaydra stepped out of her room in the tattered jumpsuit, scuffed boots, and gleaming toolbox in hand.
Boba Fett led her up through the palace. From the expression on her face, he could tell she had never been permitted up to this part of the old palace. Boba very much doubted any slave, pleasure or otherwise, had been allowed up this far when Jabba ruled.
Boba brought Thaydra all the way to what were now his personal quarters. Spacious, far more luxurious than anything he had previously had, with a great view of his city, Boba liked the new rooms. He was especially glad of the Bacta-tank.
“What do you know about bacta-tanks?”
“Their function, how to repair one, how to handle replacement parts, and I could probably figure out how to operate one in a pinch.”
“The medical droid attached to my bacta-tank has been on the fritz since before I came here. Is there a chance you could repair the unit so it can handle the bacta-tank?”
He pointed to the droid in question. He could almost see Thaydra’s mind racing through an accessment of the droid and tank, figuring out what she could do with the tools and parts she had access to, and what she might need to go out and find. Her bright yellow-green eyes were moving quickly over the droid and tank, her left pointer and middle fingers moving as if she were already adjusting something.
“Might take a couple days. I haven’t gotten a full inventory on what parts and droids are in the palace, just what I knew was here before Bib came. When are good times for me to come up here and work?”
“Fennec fetches me around an hour after the second sun rises, and my droids help me get the armor on. Any time in the afternoon or early evening, I will be long gone from the room and you may work here.”
“When I’m re-integrating the droid with the tank, I may have to take the tank offline for a few hours.”
“Let me know when. I’ll try not to get seriously injured until you’re done.”
Thaydra shot him a slight smile.
“Good. May I start now?”
Boba gestured for her to go ahead. She gave a nod before moving to crouch in front of the droid. As Boba moved to leave, he heard Thaydra call his name in question. He turned to the mechanic, awaiting the cause of her calling him.
“Why did you bring me back to the palace, after you found me in the street?”
“I had heard you were a good mechanic and had gone to find you when Fennec spotted the three who were chasing you. She said they were known slavers.”
“You meant to hire me to come work for you?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you.”
“If you wish, you may take other jobs for credits or trade. I will not command all of your time be dedicated to repairs for me, only that mine take precedence.”
Thaydra seemed to consider for a moment before nodding.
“I can easily agree to that.”
“You are not a slave, that much I wish to make clear.”
“Thank you, Lord Fett.”
“It’s Boba.”
Again, she nodded.
“I’ll start on the med-droid.”
Boba gave a nod before leaving his rooms. He was sure the droid would soon be mended and his bacta-tank would be more effective with a proper medical droid handling it. He was also sure he now had a loyal mechanic, as well as two Gamorrean guards-Mochyn and Cerdo, a weapon-wielding protocol droid, a pair of new guard droids, and his lieutenant who doubled as a chief assassin, Fennec. His reign was off to a far better start than he had hoped for.