Work Text:
Boots on sandstone sound different that the footsteps on Kamino. Everyone used to wear soft slippers in the halls- even the trainers. There were soft sounds of whispering fabric. Boba didn’t know any footsteps made sounds, except Jango’s footsteps. He wore his beskar in the halls. It was a violent sound- ringing and clanging. Boba has heard many footsteps since he left Kamino- but he spent thirty-two years forgetting the sound of his father’s footsteps.
That doesn’t mean, waking from the bacta tank, he doesn’t remember them. When he wakes from his dreams, he can hear the clanging of the boots right outside his tank. Boba relaxes into the noise, remembering it was the sound of his father coming home, before he jolts up. He bangs his head on the tank. When he pushes the emergency opening, there is no one there. The wind whistles through the room, and monitors show everyone where they are supposed to be. Even Fennec is resting easily.
The footsteps start up again, walking in circles around him. It gets louder and louder, Boba’s eyes go from place to place, searching for the sound until both of the suns come up.
Gingerly, one of the clones that has survived long enough to get bounty work from Boba, mentions that it’s the anniversary of Geonosis.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
The sound doesn’t come back until the next year, though on a different day. Boba is reclining on the throne. Fennec is leaning against the arm, laughing at something Din hadn’t said. His eyes trace the room. There doesn’t seem to be anything of note going on, the band is playing and there is dancing and smoking. Business is going on around all corners. There is no reason any sound should be heard over the noise.
And then there is the clanging sound again. Its coming from one of the Bounty Hunters in the back, reclining with a Twi’lik kid, not far past his majority, in his lap. His face isn’t covered- but it was no one Boba had seen before.
The clanging footsteps get louder and louder until Boba’s head starts to pound. He stretches and starts to walk around the room- Starting furthest from the footsteps. As he gets closer and closer, the bounty hunter starts to get nervous. His leg starts going up and down. His hands start to rub the kid’s back in rough motions. The kid pushes him away, but the bounty hunter won’t let him go. That was something actionable. Boba grabs the hunter’s arm, twisting it to the side, to reveal a nice little disruptor- perfect for knocking out pulse rifles and helmet visuals.
Boba throws him halfway across the room, and he hits square on the Rancor’s grate of a window. There is a loud growl and the hunter throws himself off.
Din gets him with a shot to the knee. Fennec gets him with a shot to the neck.
They find a puck for Din’s kid on the hunter, and a puck for Din’s head.
Boba wears a blindfold when Din shows his appreciation that night.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
He’s meeting with some Tuskens in the Wastes when the footsteps come again. Loud clanging footsteps when the sand muffles sound. Intrigued, and feeling a bit mad, he follows the sound to a small cave- turned into living quarters. There is not anything especially nice about it. The footsteps end.
Boba runs a hand over the bed and breathes in the smell of tea.
“Hello there.”
Boba jumps.
“So, that is a yes. You don’t need to be so rude. I’ll talk to him.”
Boba looks around, but can’t see anyone. His helmet shows no lifeforms.
“Your father says you need to check the Firespray’s log- 2.20.954- and that you should consider calling up your riduur before he gets himself into trouble.”
Boba feels his mouth drop open, but a gust of sand immediately blows into his mouth and he is sputtering and coughing.
“He’s not my riduur.” Boba says, when he can speak.
“Your piece on the side, then.” The voice is sarcastic, but its clearly an echo of another’s voice. “He’s gotten himself into some trouble.”
“No, I am not repeating anything else.”
There is a pause.
“Why don’t we make a deal, bounty hunter? I will give you my voice and you will give me your ears.”
“I don’t know what help I can be to a ghost.” Boba said, slowly.
“Oh! You could hear that too. That is unfortunate. I am not making a deal with you.”
“The footsteps?” Boba feels his chin wobble like it hasn’t since he was small.
“Yes, the footsteps.” There is a pause. “I will make a deal with you, however. You come and tell me anything about Luke Sky- I understand he is a busy man, but if he wants- Boba, your father is insufferable.”
Boba nods to himself. He’ll look up the log on the Firespray- in case it is important- and then he is going to drink until his heart starts beating again.
The voice doesn’t leave him alone, though. It follows him all the way back to the palace. It argues with the footsteps for a bit- a one sided argument that is a little too enthusiastic- and then it starts humming something that Boba has made an effort to forget.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
It isn’t the first voice that shows up. Boba doesn’t hear the other voices often, but when the voice from the cave speaks, he can almost hear replies.
“Luke can fend for himself.” “-respons- forc-“ The responding voice is deep and calm.
“I don’t care if she is your daughter, she is still a little shit.” “—las—sena--- ami---" That voice has a slow whine and a Tatooine accent.
“Boba, your father thinks Fennec is going to murder you in your sleep.”
Boba ignores that bit of wisdom.
“He also says that you need to go use your blasters before they rust.”
Boba stretches and goes to find Din- so they can shoot at Dune Lizards.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Sometimes, Boba thinks other people can hear the voices. Sometimes Din will pause midstep, right before the voice says something strange. Sometimes, he moves aside for footsteps. Bo-Katan comes to argue about settlement fees and Boba watches her flinch at silence the way she never flinches the roar of a rancor.
“She has grown up hasn’t she- so much like her mother.” The voice from the hut speaks in his ear as a the leader of Mos Eisley’s freedom runs talks prices and fares. “You came through on Tatooine? Of all the coincidences. Hot, little dust ball, and everyone of us passes at some point or another.”
For a moment, Boba gets a sharp vision of a woman with her hair braided up. Her face is set in a frown, she’s maybe thirty years old. Her hair is caught in the wind- though the court room is still. She has a bit of light in her arms- and when it cries she soothes it with more light.
Boba catches Fennec staring at that one.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
There comes a year when the voices stop, but Din is steady and Fennec has a sharp eye. The footsteps never leave him, and he dreams of endless ocean.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
He still nearly cries when he hears a loud voice in an empty room.
“Well, I am back.” The voice is mild. “You could have come with me. Your boy would have survived.”
“I don’ t think you need to go that far.”
“That’s very forward, your son can hear me. I missed you as well.”
Boba has never tried to talk to the voices since that empty hut, afraid of senility and the enemies that pop up around corners, but after a year- he wants to try.
“Tell him “Thank You.” For me.” Boba says, softly.
“Oh, you didn’t know. My dear, he can hear you. The dead can always hear you. It’s the living that have a problem hearing us.”
Boba doesn’t say anything.
“He’s very proud of you, you know.” The voice says, softly. “He talks my ears off about you, though he has been letting me talk to him about my padawans and has been suffering my Master’s philosophy discussions. If it wasn’t for a problem with some Sith cloning, I wouldn’t have left at all. Everybody is having to come to me, he’s persistent in making sure you know he’s watching.”
“Why do you stay?” Boba asks, not ready to deal with his father, quite yet. “If you’re a jedi?” His mouth forms the word in Basic before the Mando’a and he is, for once, ashamed.
“I enjoy a good argument, and your father is a whirlwind in the force. He feels things so deeply- if a bit narrowly. It’s a little like staring at an aroura while relaxing on the beach. Its not everyone’s cup of tea, but it suits me well.”
There is a pause.
“He says my company is no hardship on him. It is a bonus to getting to watch you, and you aren’t to worry about jedi unless specifically told.”
Boba blinked. His face, which had been weathered by forty years of hard living, grimaced like it did when he was a child of ten.
He didn’t need to know that.
“Don’t worry,” Boba rubbed his face, trying to push it back into a neutral expression. “It’s Din’s job to worry about ‘the space wizards’.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Din dies, or nearly dies, so many times, Boba has learned not to pay attention to it.
The body makes him pay attention.
He never has any idea what Din’s face looks like, but there is a body in the armor and a scar on his wrist. He got it when Boba was lying on the Firespray watching Din try and get some wiring in his chest plate fixed. Grogu had been sleeping in the crook of his arm, and Boba had woken him with his laughter.
The armor is entombed with body- and Boba gives the word to the kid himself. Fennec, stuck in a chair with a wasting illness, tells him it’s a fool’s move. Boba doesn’t care.
The kid is old enough to form complex sentences, has his own armor. He names Boba allit, and tells him that he has many souls watching him.
Boba leans his head down and presses it against the kid’s.
He doesn’t say a word, but he thinks it.
He knows Grogu as his child- for Din.
“Alright, then- he did it without any of your meddling. You can leave if you want.” The voice says softly as Boba goes back into hyperspace. The stars fly by him, unremembered but breathtaking.
“I’ll stay till you go, then.”
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
The Emperial remnants attack Tatooine twice. Three corporations try and take over. The Crimson Dawn puts out a bounty for him.
Its age that takes him.
He splits the rule of Tatooine into a council. He puts them under the watchful eyes of freedom runners, Cobb Vanth’s great-great nephew, and transfers all his assets to Grogu. He outlives Fennec. He outlives Han Solo, and Bossk, and the last of the vod. He outlives two Mandolorian uprisings- until a boy in Stormtrooper armor comes to get the Darksaber from Din’s tomb. Grogu stands behind him, proud and face covered- his ears moving in the wind.
The footsteps echo his, and in the last year of his life, he thinks he can hear a voice accompanying the footsteps. It chats with the other voice, the one who talks about younglings and is visited by other voices. It is the only voice that talks to the footsteps.
Boba tries all the years of his life- but he can only bring himself to talk to the voice.
He retires in the cave, one day. He putters around and pulls ancient tea out of sealed containers.
“The Jawas would take anything BUT the tea- not that they look for anything anymore. They left the place alone once I left. I had haunted it, apparently.”
Boba sits on the couch, tired, the suns are setting. He hasn’t been alone for decades, but there is a creeping feeling of dread coming upon him. He leans back, and tries to breathe.
“You know, you are a miracle, Boba Fett.” The voice fills in the silence, stopping his panic. “The last ten generations of your family have died violently. Not one of them has reached old age. You were going to be the end of a failing line before you crawled out of that sarlacc. Your grandfather, Jaster, tells us he used to pray that someday one of his descendants would be able to fight and die of old age.”
“You talked to Jaster?”
“I talk to a great many people. It’s a good thing about being dead. Walking through life is sort of like eavesdropping on important conversations. We never really have all the facts. When you die, you get the chance to start gathering all the pieces together.”
“I look forward to it, I wouldn’t want to be bored.” Boba says. “I worry with too much peace and quiet.”
“Oh, I promise, you will never be bored. You’ll be angry and sad. There is a chance for indescribable happiness, too- if you want it. At peace doesn’t mean peaceful. There are far too many dead Mandalorians for that. Force knows, your father will want to be sticking around to talk your ear off. He says he’s the first in line.”
Boba is asleep before he can ask who else is in line.
He doesn’t wake up.
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
The first thing he notices is the silence. There are no heavy footsteps. There is no proper voice. Its just him and a deep sleep. There isn’t any pain- there is no movement. He is rested for the first time in his life- or so he thinks.
He’s being picked up out of something, and he’s being held to a beating heart. The chest is warm, and it smells like Kamino. There is a voice murmuring in the same accent as the Kamminnis.
“He’s healthy?” The voice asks.
Boba opens his eyes to see a younger him staring down at him. There are different scars- but there are lines around his holder’s eyes he never had.
“I know your name as my child.” His holder whispers.
Time flows forward from there.
Moments Boba had forgotten played before his eyes. The good and the bad rushing together in front of his eyes. He knows each emotion and sensation that belonged to each moment, but he only feels a sense of ecstasy. He sees the memories from his eldest mind, and each memory gives healing as he understands them for the first time.
When the memories stop, he takes a breath.
And there is starlight. He can see each star in front of him and behind him and all around they circle into a dance of thousands parts molded together to make a picture he could spend his life studying.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” His father is behind him. He’s wearing the clothing he wore around the house, but with his boots on. Beside his father, staring at the man like he is the other part of his heart, is fucking Kenobi.
“It was insanity, then.” Boba mutters to himself.
