A Perverted Galaxy Far Far Away Ch. 58 (Star Wars) (Patreon)

A/N: Been building towards this moment for the entire arc, ngl. As soon as I gave you guys the choice between Death Watch and Banking Clan investigation, I knew what I wanted you to find with the Death Watch.

-x-X-x-

While Wren’s thoughts certainly had Tylo off-balance, her actual words had left no room for argument. It wasn’t a request or an offer… it was an order. With that and his current cover in mind, Tylo nods sharply, even as he’s internally frowning. What extra responsibility was Ursa even talking about?

“Yes ma’am. Understood, ma’am.”

She looks pleased at his verbal submission, probably having wanted to hear him say something like that after he’d so physically dominated her in their sexual exchange. Reaching out, she runs a hand down his chest for a moment, looking as though she wants to go another round.

Fuck I want to ride him raw again… but I’m already feeling raw. Another go and I think I won’t be fit for duty for the next day. Ah well…

Pulling away, Ursa gets up off the bed and then nods to him.

“Up and at ‘em, recruit. Get dressed and get suited up. Wouldn’t want to scar any young, innocent eyes with that weapon you’re wielding between your legs, now would we?”

Getting up, Tylo does as he’s told. Though now that she’s mentioned it out loud, he raises an eyebrow at her, even as they’re both getting back into their armor.

“I didn’t think Death Watch dealt in innocents, ma’am.”

For just a moment, something akin to guilt crosses Ursa Wren’s face. The Mandalorian woman is quick to cover it up with a cocky, confident grin, but she has no such way of hiding her inner thoughts.

I don’t like it… but then, I don’t have to like it. I just have to follow orders. Still, this is not the Mandalorian Way…

Outwardly, she just shakes her head.

“You’ll see.”

Tylo has to admit, he’s even more curious now. Still, it seems like his curiosity will be satiated either way, so long as he keeps his head down and follows Wren’s lead. As such, that’s exactly what he does. Suited up with helmet on once more, the disguised Jedi follows Ursa out of her quarters and down several sets of corridors that he, Koska, and Bo-Katan hadn’t been allowed to access as of yet.

By the time the two of them reach their destination, they’ve wound up in a whole other section of this facility. Coming to a door, Ursa Wren punches in a key code, with Tylo making sure to memorize it. She doesn’t make any attempt to hide it from him, so maybe she expects him to be coming here often in the future. Either way, the door slides open and Tylo blinks as he finally notices the dozen or so presences in the room beyond.

“Up and at ‘em, brats! Got a Mentor here, so you’d better put your best foot forward!”

There’s a sudden scramble as Tylo steps into the room right after Ursa and finally understands exactly what she meant by children and innocent minds. The room is a barracks of sorts, with two rows of six beds along either wall. The children in said beds have immediately jumped up at Ursa’s words and are now standing at the ends of their beds, each and every one of them at attention and staying stock still.

Seeing him staring, Ursa tilts her head towards the kids.

“Foundlings. They’re supposed to be the future of Death Watch. But only if they’re taught our ways and shown the proper path forward by a true Mandalorian. Like you.”

That is… deeply ironic for reasons Ursa Wren will hopefully never understand. Even still, Tylo finds himself staring at the children as they all stare back at him. With so many beings in one room, focusing on any one of their thoughts is quite difficult. More than that however, they’re all quite young, and that makes reading their minds even more of a challenge.

He hadn’t intended to earn an honor such as this… and now he’s trying desperately to find a way to politely decline. He wasn’t here to raise a Mandalorian kid after all, he was here to find out where Rook Kast was and what she knew, and then get out.

“Any of them strike your fancy?”

Ursa Wren’s tone is conversational, as she steps forward, forcing Tylo to follow behind her. The kids at the front of the room all imperceptibly stiffen up and straighten even further. They want desperately to be chosen. They want nothing more than to have a Mandalorian Warrior such as himself personally train them. Never mind that he’s a fraud. Never mind that he might know less about their ways than they do… they’re all so desperate it’s leaking into the Force and damn near making him sick.

He's still trying to figure out how to decline ANY of them when he and Ursa reach the room’s midpoint and everything suddenly changes. Tylo’s back goes ramrod straight as that desperation he’s sensing from all of the Foundlings is suddenly massively overshadowed by hatred and anger. Enough hatred and anger that he almost thinks there’s a Sith or a Dark Jedi hidden in the shadows.

But no… he quickly pinpoints the source of the incredibly raw, incredibly negative feelings. And when he does, he stops dead in his tracks.

Going to kill you all. Just you wait. Pick me and I’ll slit your throat in your sleep. I’ll blast my way out of here. I’ll burn your entire organization to the ground and then I’ll do the same to the damn honorless Jedi.

Staring into the eyes of Boba Fett makes it all too easy to hear her thoughts directly. And boy is the young clone PISSED.

-x-X-x-

Boba Fett has not had the best year of her life. Things have been shit for a while now, in fact. And the worst thing was? She couldn’t DO anything about it. She was stuck in a shitty situation, forced to bide her time and wait for her opportunity. Maybe this was it. Frankly, she didn’t know… but if this schutta was stupid enough to choose her, she would happily take full advantage of it.

Ever since the Jedi had come to them on Kamino, things had gone from bad to worse. Her mother, Janga, was dead. Killed by the Jedi even after she surrendered to them. They were without honor and without pride, and she would slaughter them like the dogs she was in her mother’s memory.

Unfortunately, first she needed to grow up. That had been made abundantly clear to her ever since her mom’s death. First it was the bald woman with the two red lightsabers. A Jedi, obviously… she’d taken Boba from the Temple, informed her that Janga had been killed, and told her that she was to be punished in a different fashion.

They should have just killed her. Shitty fucking Jedi. Instead, the bald woman had dropped Boba Fett off and told her that she was being handed over to Death Watch. If there was anyone Janga Fett had hated more than the Jedi, it was Death Watch. But then… it was honestly really, really close. Boba had heard it from her mother multiple times. Death Watch weren’t true Mandalorians. They were scum. Hell, they were less than scum. Terrorist bastards who gave the Mandalorian People and the Mandalorian Culture a bad fucking name.

Obviously, listening to her mother talk about Death Watch and the Jedi and the fall of the True Mandalorian Faction, Boba had correctly intuited that Death Watch hated Janga Fett just as much as Janga hated them. So really, the bald Jedi woman hadn’t had to tell Boba that she needed to keep her identity a secret from Death Watch. She wasn’t an idiot.

They’d snatched her right up and stuck her with their ‘Foundlings’. Bunch of idiots who could barely put a chestplate on correctly. Boba had kept her head down though. She knew if they found out who she really was, Death Watch would be happy to kill her. That was what the Jedi wanted too; she’d figured out. They wanted her to slip up. They wanted her to falter and reveal something. Then, the sanctimonious pricks could wash their hands of her, acting like their shit didn’t stink because Death Watch took out the trash for them.

Well, Boba wasn’t going to let that happen. She’d stayed in her lane. She hadn’t even made an escape attempt. As inferior and subpar as the training Death Watch provided was when compared to what her mother had taught her, Boba could still make use of it. She was too small and too young to avenge her mom just yet. But with enough time and enough patience… then maybe.

That said, she was nearing the end of her rope. Maybe that was why she was thinking such dark thoughts as Ursa Wren brought this new fucker into the barracks to pick one of them to mentor. She probably wouldn’t ACTUALLY slit his throat in his sleep… unless he turned out to be a child-fucker. If he tried to lay a hand on her, she’s cut both it and his fucking dick off.

Still… a one-on-one relationship might be her best bet at learning more of the skills she would need to take her revenge. That’s why Boba is standing tall and staring the male Mandalorian right in the eyes. She wants his attention. She wants to impress him. Hopefully he likes confidence. Hopefully-

“Her.”

And there it is. Boba is quick to wipe the smile that begins to form off of her face when the Mandalorian points directly at her. Wren’s gaze follows his finger, and she eyes Boba for a moment before nodding.

“Good choice. One of the best of this lot, in fact. Go on then, Foundling. Gather your things. I’ll escort you both to your new quarters.”

Boba does as she’s told, privately thinking to herself that she’s not just one of the best of this lot, she’s the best damn ‘Foundling’ that Death Watch has ever had. Bastards didn’t truly understand what they really had lurking in their midst. That was good though. Refuge in obscurity was how she would survive. Though, she wasn’t stupid. Eventually, the Jedi might realize she was still alive. Then, that bald bitch or one of the others would drop a message to Death Watch about her true identity and she’d be fucked.

She just had to stay on her toes though. When things got too hot, she’d bounce. Until then… Death Watch’s resources might as well be her resources.

Her new mentor stays quiet, even as Boba follows him and Wren out of the barracks and through another few sets of corridors. Finally, they arrive at another door that Wren opens up. Inside is a small set of quarters, barely enough space for two people. But enough for one and a half, Boba supposed. A Mentor and is Foundling… yeah, it’d work for now. Would get rather tight as she grew up though, but maybe this was only temporary.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted. She’s your charge now, but you’ll still have missions on the regular, so keep your comm open and answers my calls… or else.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Her new superior finally speaks. Boba narrows her eyes, even as Wren looks between them for a moment before nodding and leaving. With the door hissing shut behind him, Boba can’t help but tense up. This was it. Moment of truth. Was she going to have to shiv a fucker, or could they make this work?

“… You got a name?”

She mulls that question over for a moment before deciding to just shake her head. The Mandalorian tilts his head to the side in response, staring at her wordlessly for a few seconds.

“… You want one?”

Again, she hesitates. She DID have a name, and no she didn’t want this fucker to come up for a new one for her. However, what would the Foundling she was pretending to be say? If some no-name Foundling had finally earned a spot directly under a Mandalorian Warrior… of course she would accept an offer for said Warrior to give her a name. Grunting, Boba nods.

“Sure.”

Now it’s the male’s time to hesitate. He’s quiet for a good long while, clearly mulling over options in his head. And then, finally…

“How about Boba? You look like a Boba to me.”

Her eyes damn near bulge out of her skull at that. There’s no way she can stop herself from reacting to a declaration like that. Was this it?! Had Death Watch figured out who she really was? Was this where they killed her?! But then, it didn’t make sense. If they knew, Wren wouldn’t have brought them here and then left them alone. She would have just killed Boba alongside this fucker the moment that they were far enough away from the barracks. No… something was up here. But one thing was for certain.

“You know.”

The Mandalorian nods his helmeted head at that.

“I know, Boba Fett. And I swear, I’m not here to hurt you. I never expected to find you here… but… look, can I request something?”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion; Boba cautiously nods. Her fingers twitch, aching to grab the shiv hidden in her waistband. But she stays still for now, not wanting to spook the warrior in front of her.

“Just… hear me out, okay? This is going to be a bit of a shock… but there’s a lot you don’t know. You’ve been fed lies, Boba, but believe me… I’m here to help.”

Inwardly, Boba scoffs at that, not believing him for a second. Outwardly, she maintains a blank face for a beat before hesitantly nodding. Her greatest asset at this point was her youth. Her young features made people continuously underestimate her. She’d used that to her advantage so many times it had ultimately worn off. Now, everyone in Death Watch who had interacted with her before knew better than to believe her little act.

But this one, whoever he was, despite knowing who she was, wouldn’t know WHAT she was… she hoped. She was an avenger, and no matter what lines he tried to feed her, she’d play along and then figure out how to turn it to her advantage afterwards.

There’s a beat after her hesitant nod where the warrior just stares at her, like he doesn’t quite buy it. But then he nods back and slowly reaches up for his helmet.

“… Please don’t freak out.”

Boba furrows her brow at that, wondering what he’s talking about. She has no intention of ‘freaking out’ and- oh. That’s the Jedi who she beat back on the Slave One. That’s the Jedi who helped capture her mom.

In that moment… Boba couldn’t have followed his request even if she’d tried. She doesn’t try anyways. What she does do… is immediately try to kill him.