Family Is More Than Blood

"Aliit ori'shya taldin" – Family is more than blood (Mandalorian saying)

_______

The days pass quickly, filled with training and learning the ways of the Tuskens and of the desert. Every night Boba stumbles to his tent, exhausted but happy. Soon, he's lost track of how long he's spent with the Tuskens.

One day, Orr'krurs and A'Dakmu approach him while he's training with K'Rai. She doesn't beat him so easily these days. They pause their spar and greet the chieftain, who tells Boba,

"You have learned much. A'Dakmu is impressed with your progress."

Boba shoots a smile at the warrior, who nods his head.

"Do you still wish to search for the armour?" Orr'krurs asks.

"Yes," Boba answers firmly. "As soon as I can."

"Very well. You may leave as soon as you wish."

"Thank you." Boba bows his head in gratitude. "I will leave tomorrow."

"I'll go with you," A'Dakmu interjects. He drops a hand onto K'Rai's shoulder. "She will, too."

Orr'krurs nods. "Tomorrow, then, you will set out on your journey."

________

Like a personal slight against Boba, a sandstorm hits the next morning. Boba's trip is delayed, and the day is spent huddled in one of the larger tents with Shaan and K'Rai, who teach him a board game involving small bones and rocks.

After losing to Shaan five times in a row, Boba is restless, pacing the length of the tent. Every minute wasted is another minute for whatever shabuir has his armour to move further away. The Jawas only said they sold the armour near Mos Espa. Who knows where it is now?

And every day delayed in finding the armour is a day delayed in returning to Mos Eisley – to Dia.

With a groan, Boba drops onto a cushion and buries his face in his hands.

Shaan sits cross legged next to him and taps his knee to catch his attention. When Boba looks up with a glare, Shaan asks, "What's the story with your armour?"

Boba looks away stubbornly. Shaan pokes his shoulder.

"What?" Boba snaps.

Shaan repeats his question, and pokes Boba again when the latter ignores him.

"Just leave me alone," Boba mutters, curling his knees to his chest.

"It's important to talk about – " Boba doesn't recognize the last sign, and says so. Shaan signs instead, "dead – person – talk – important."

"You think I need to talk about… about buir?"

Shaan nods. With a sigh, Boba gives in. "The armour belonged to my father. Armour is important to Mandalorians."

Shaan tilts his head in confusion.

"To… my people, I guess," Boba amends. "So I want to get it back."

"What happened to your father?" K'Rai asks, sitting beside Shaan.

"He was killed by an enemy. I'll get my revenge soon."

"Revenge?" Shaan repeats while K'Rai nods in approval. "Will you have to leave?"

Boba hesitates, then nods. He can't deny he doesn't think half as badly of the Tuskens as he used to, and he's realized he considers Shaan and K'Rai his friends.

"I'm grateful," he says sincerely. "We're friends, right?"

"Friends," Shaan agrees. K'Rai nods in agreement. Boba thinks they must be smiling under their masks, and finds himself smiling as well.

_______

The sandstorm finally passes during the night. The next morning, while the rest of the Tuskens begin cleaning up the camp, A'Dakmu brings Boba and K'Rai to the banthas. The animals are shaking the sand off their fur coats as A'Dakmu goes up to one of them and pets its nose. The bantha bumps its head against A'Dakmu with an affectionate groan.

"When you two take your warrior initiation rites, you'll be given your own banthas," A'Dakmu reveals. "For now, you'll ride with me."

He lifts K'Rai, then Boba, helping them into the saddle before securing the saddlebags and swinging up to sit at the front. Clicking his tongue, he pats the bantha's head. With a shake of its furry head, the bantha begins lumbering through the sand, its tail swishing behind it.

Finally, Boba thinks eagerly. Anticipation wells up in his chest. Finally, I'll find the armour and avenge buir.

An hour later, they've barely left sight of the camp, and Boba is ready to scream.

"Is this really as fast as the bantha can go?" he asks K'Rai through gritted teeth.

K'Rai looks over her shoulder. "Banthas are endurance animals. We'll make it a lot farther in one day at this pace."

Grumbling, Boba resigns himself to watching the sand dunes rise and fall.

Around noon, he spots a moisture farm in the distance, and later the gleaming wreckage of a freighter. At sundown, they shelter by a rocky outcrop and rest. Boba and K'Rai catch some scurriers, which A'Dakmu cooks over the fire.

They sleep under the stars, taking watches, and by sunrise, they're on the road again.

"There's a trespassers' settlement nearby," A'Dakmu tells them. "Mos Taike. We'll avoid it, but keep an eye out."

 Agreeing, Boba keeps a close eye on the horizon. He thinks he sees other travellers or animals pass by in the distance, but they're too far to pose any threat.

"What's that?" K'Rai asks suddenly, pointing to the right.

Boba peers into the distance, where she's pointing. A cluster of white somethings poke out of the sand, across a wide distance.

"Ah, that must be the krayt dragon graveyard!" A'Dakmu exclaims. "Would you like to go see?"

Boba and K'Rai eagerly agree, and A'Dakmu adjusts course towards the graveyard. As they get closer, Boba's jaw drops at the sheer size of the skeletons. Sun-bleached ribs arch above them, and half-buried skulls display razor teeth. There must be dozens of krayt dragon skeletons in this graveyard.

A'Dakmu stops the bantha and dismounts, helping K'Rai then Boba down after him.

"To prove yourselves as warriors," A'Dakmu says, leading them to a nearby skull, "you will have to kill a krayt dragon, alone."

"Kill a krayt dragon?" Boba repeats, surprised.

A'Dakmu nods. "But that's a few years away. For now, keep training and learning."

"Can we go look around?" K'Rai asks.

"Alright. But don't disturb the bones." A'Dakmu returns to the bantha.

"You go hide," K'Rai suggests to Boba, "and I'll try and find you."

"We have to keep going," Boba says.

"Come on, just for a few minutes."

"… Fine. Count to twenty."

K'Rai turns around, covering her eyes, and Boba sprints away. He finds a giant vertebrae column and crouches behind one of the bones, listening for K'Rai's approach.

After a few moments, he hears footsteps – but from the wrong direction. He peers over the vertebrae with a frown. Someone else is walking towards the graveyard. The sunlight glints painfully off their silvery armour.

…Silver armour. It can't be. Boba watches, frozen, as the person gets closer and closer. It is! The shabuir is wearing my armour!

Outraged, Boba shoots to his feet. Only a few meters away, the person's head turns to look at him, and they pause.

"YOU!" Boba yells, vaulting over the bones. "That armour is mine!"

The thief tilts their head. "What the kriff are you talking about, kid?"

"The Jawas stole that armour from me," Boba spits. "I want it back."

"Oh? Haven't you heard of finders-keepers? If this armour means so much to you, you should have taken better care of it."

Boba splutters, livid.

"But I'm a reasonable guy," the thief says, setting one hand on his hip. "If you give me five hundred credits right now, I'll gladly hand the armour over."

"Five hundred?"

"Tsk, you're right. That's too low for such a valuable item. Seven hundred."

"Shut up!"

"Well, I'm not just handing you the armour, kid," the thief snaps. "So if you won't pay for it – " He draws his blaster and aims it at Boba's head – "try fighting for it."

PSHIEW!

Boba leaps out of the way, narrowly missing a blaster bolt. It scorches a krayt dragon's skull as Boba takes shelter behind the vertebrae. Footsteps shift the sand, as the thief approaches.

Crouching, Boba creeps along the length of the spine to the skull. He peers through the eye sockets and ducks out to avoid another blaster shot.

"Come on, you coward!" the thief shouts. "Don't you want the armour?" 

Snarling, Boba unslings his wooden stick from his back. It's not a proper gaderffi stick, but it'll have to do. He scoops up a bone fragment from the sand and hurls it to his left. It clatters against another bone, drawing the thief's attention.

As he's distracted, Boba stands, and hurls his stick at the thief.

"AAAUGH!"

The sharp end of the stick sinks into the thief's shoulder, at a weak point of the armour.

Damn. I missed the neck. Boba drops back down to shelter.

"GET OUT HERE!" the thief screams. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

Blaster shots ricochet wildly off the krayt dragon's spine, and Boba is trapped. In retrospect, he probably shouldn't have thrown away his only weapon.

What the kriff am I gonna do now?

"BOBA!"

He spots A'Dakmu from the corner of his eye, crouching behind a different skull. The Tusken hefts a cycler rifle and hurls it towards him.

Leaping up, Boba catches the rifle. In one fluid motion, he clicks the safety off and aims at the thief.

He's exposed now, and the thief aims his own blaster with an outraged shout.

"Breathe out, and hold," Hondo's lessons ring in Boba's ear. "Then shoot!"

CRACK!

PSHIEW!

They both fire at the same moment.

Did I get him? Boba wonders frantically, heart pounding.

Blood bubbles like a waterfall from the thief's unarmoured throat. He sways on his feet and his blaster hand trembles. With a guttural groan, he collapses, turning the sand red.

Boba sighs in relief, lowering the rifle. He did it. He earned the armour back.

His side aches, for some reason. Quite a lot, actually.

Frowning, Boba looks down. He blinks. His eyes widen.

Blood stains his poncho, spreading across the blue fabric. Boba presses his trembling hands to his side.

His vision is starting to blot, and he looks up in a panic, to A'Dakmu and K'Rai. They are running towards him, reaching out. They must be yelling, but his ears feel stuffed with cotton. Will they reach him in time? Will he die here, in the desert?

He pitches forward, without even the energy to block his face from hitting the sand.

________

He wakes a few times. Rough fabric brushes against his cheek and he feels arms under his shoulders and knees, as though someone's carrying him; then he's sinking into a soft surface and his body feels cooler; someone coaxes him to drink something disgusting; voices talk around him, muffled.

Finally, he wakes up completely. It takes a moment for him to realize where he is, in one of the Tuskens' tents, sheltered from the sunlight.

His side hurts, still, but it's more of a dull pain now. Still, he can't stop himself from groaning.

Two faces appear above him. He blinks blearily. Oh, it's A'Dakmu and the healer.

"Boba, are you feeling alright?" A'Dakmu asks, full of concern.

"Mm-hm," Boba mumbles. His throat feels dry.

"Here, drink this," the healer instructs, carefully lifting his head and holding a canteen to his lips.

Boba shudders at the bitter taste, but dutifully drinks.

"You were shot," A'Dakmu tells him as the healer lies him back down. "We managed to stabilize you and get you back here."

"Thanks." A thought strikes Boba and he starts to sit up, panicked. "The armour!"

"Stay down," the healer snaps, holding his shoulders.

"The armour!" Boba repeats, reaching out for A'Dakmu. "Did you get it?"

"Yes, we did. Don't worry."

Boba collapses onto the bed in relief. "Thank you."

"You did well defeating your enemy," A'Dakmu praises him, gently patting his head. "You should be proud."

The healer leans over and murmurs something to A'Dakmu. The warrior nods.

"I'm going to speak with the chieftain about it now." He looks back at Boba. "Rest, young one, and heal. I will be back soon."

The healer keeps Boba on strict bed rest for another two days. Luckily, they allow K'Rai and Shaan to visit, so Boba's not bored to tears. They sit around Boba's bed, Boba finally able to sit up, while K'Rai enthusiastically describes Boba's fight in detail to an enraptured Shaan.

"It's not that impressive," Boba mutters. "I got shot."

"But you lived!" K'Rai exclaims. "So you won!"

Boba chuckles, but groans as it pulls at his stomach wound.

"So A'Dakmu was speaking with my father earlier," Shaan says, leaning forward conspiratorially, "and I think they're going to accept you into the tribe."

"That's great!" K'Rai slaps Boba's shoulder excitedly.

"They are?" Boba asks, taken aback.

Shaan nods. "You're basically one of us already."

"… I see."

Boba's not sure how he feels about this. He loves living with the Tuskens, of course. It's dangerous and fun, and he's made some close friends here.

But he has to get his revenge. And Dia is waiting for him.

"But what about your revenge?" K'Rai suddenly asks.

Boba hesitates, avoiding her gaze.

Shaan starts to speak: "I'm sure – "  

The tent flap opens, startling all three children. A'Dakmu ducks into the tent and sets his hands on his hips.

"You two, out. Boba needs his rest."

K'Rai and Shaan complain, but obey.

"Get well soon!" they call as they leave the tent.

A'Dakmu sits on the floor beside Boba, and checks his bandages. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Yeah. It barely hurts anymore."

"You sure got lucky. The bolt missed anything important."

"Is the poncho ruined?" Boba asks.

"Yes. We used it to stem the bleeding."

"…Oh." He's more upset than he probably should be over a piece of fabric, but Dia got that for him. They were matching.

"I've spoken to the chieftain," A'Dakmu says. "He's agreed to allow you to join the tribe."

So Shaan was right. "I see."

"Will you accept?"

"I… don't know. I'm grateful, I really am," he hurries to assure. "But I'm trying to get revenge for my father. And I have a friend waiting for me out there."

A'Dakmu nods thoughtfully, and his tone turns affectionate. "If you don't wish to remain with us, you may leave. But you will always have a home here."

Tears prickle in Boba's eyes. He furiously blinks them away. "Thank you."

"As long as you promise to stay until you're fully healed."

Boba smiles. "I promise."

"Good." A'Dakmu pats his head, then stands. "Now rest up. You'll be formally accepted into the tribe tonight. If that is what you wish?"

Boba nods. "It is."

He can tell A'Dakmu is grinning warmly.

That night, A'Dakmu and K'Rai help Boba dress in layered robes, and lead him from the medical tent to the bonfire. The flames reach twice their usual size, and most of the camp sit or stand around it, chatting happily.

As Boba approaches, everyone greets him with cheers. Orr'krurs steps forward.

"Boba Fett," he says, and the cheering dies down. "You have proven yourself as a brave warrior. Will you join our tribe and live by the ways of the desert?"

"I will," Boba agrees.

"Then welcome." Orr'krurs reaches out and holds Boba's shoulders. "You are one of us now."

The Tuskens erupt in wild cheering, none louder than A'Dakmu. Hands reach out and pat Boba's shoulders and head, warmly welcoming him to the tribe.

The rest of the night is spent dancing around the bonfire, listening to the warriors' and elders' tales, and laughing with his friends.

Boba feels at home, here in the desert. The Tuskens are his tribe now. They're his family.

Boba, K'Rai, and Shaan fall asleep in a pile by the fire, and have to be woken by the adults when the celebration finally winds down. They're ushered off to their respective tents, where Boba finds the armour laid out neatly beside his bedroll. He carefully checks each piece to make sure it's all there. It is. Warm and content, he falls asleep hugging the helmet.