“Foaly. I’m going to . . . Owww!”
“There. That’s the ray on.”
Mulch squinted at the safe. It was incredible. He could see right into
the works. Tumblers and catches stood out in shadowy relief. He blew on
his hairy fingers and twisted the combination dial. In seconds the safe lay
It had been several months since he had been back. He was never here for more than a few days or weeks at a time, between jobs. Still, these rooms were the closest thing he had to a home. He knew what he would find inside. His quarters were simple, almost spartan. The rooms of a warrior, with no frills besides a small stack of holobooks at his bedside. Books on strategy, navigation, Mandalorian weaponry techniques, scouting, and hunting; ancient texts on war. Most precious of all was the book left to him by his father. It contained his father's words and images. Along with his father's helmet, and the remnants of his father's armor, the book was Boba's most prized possession. He had learned more from that book than he had from any other.
But he had learned even more from his own experience. Thinking about his father still made Boba sad. But he knew his father would be proud of his son. After all, he had just received a prize assignment from Jabba the Hutt!-Chpt.4
