Tatooine.

A desert world with a long history as one of the galaxy's hubs of crime, slavery, mercenary guilds, and bounty hunters.

A planet ruled by the Hutts, where most of their illegal business dealings and profits take place. From pod racing, slave trading, simple to complex spice trading, weapons dealing, and more.

Four Mandalorians walking together is an unusual sight, but not as uncommon as some people see it. To them, having four Mandalorians walking together seems to show more unity and a clear message that they can't be defeated that easily. Many fools jumped in and tried to get the Mandalorian equipment.

Most people see bounty hunters of all kinds wandering around because it's a safe haven for people like them.

As we all know, Mos Eisley Spaceport is the city where the most criminals and bounty hunters gather. It is here that you can find the most jobs and opportunities.

Dax stared at a particularly scruffy-looking human in an intimidating manner.

"Are you sure he's here?" Dax asked.

"Of course." Spall said firmly. "And the place he frequented most."

The four Mandalorians stood in front of the cantina for a moment, with Spar entering first, followed by the others.

Standing at the entrance to the tavern, they all looked around at the bar and the patrons inside. Most continued to go about their business, either their own or with others, while the rest quickly noticed them and tried to stay away from them.

Coming out of the hustle and bustle, it took SPAL some time to discover their goal.

"There," Spall whispered, and the others looked over to see a little boy sitting in a booth with a few other people.

The young man was in his late teens, had black hair, tanned skin, and brown eyes. With him was a female Paliduwan with gray skin and a large ponytail, a Trandoshan, and another man, who was slightly older and had a hood on his head.

"You three stay," Spall ordered.

"Are you sure, Spur?" Finn asked.

"Trust me, my brothers," Spall said, walking up to the booth. "If anyone wants to interrupt this meeting, please be careful."

Finn looked at their leader, then patted his friends on the shoulders. "Come on, boys, let's go have a drink."

As he approached, he was quickly noticed by the occupants of the cubicle.

The little boy glared at Sparr fiercely, his eyes gleaming as he stared at the armor he was too familiar with. "What do you want?"

Spall just shrugged. "Just some small talk. That's all."

“With whom?” Paliduwan asked.

Spall just lowered his head, then answered. "You, Ward."

"sorry?"

"He's talking about me, Ola," the boy said.

"Do you want to talk to him, Boba?" Ola asked.

"I mean, I want to talk to him alone. Spal is now more direct.

"What if he doesn't want to do that?".

"This is very important." Spall said meaningfully.

After taking off his helmet, Spal was quickly scrutinized by Boba's companions.

"What's a clone doing here?" asked another.

"Looks like a vagabond to me," Trandoshan growled.

"Then why is he wearing Mandalorian armor? Did he steal it?

"I actually earned it," Spall corrected. "Isn't it too much for a son to talk to his father like that?"

"Don't play the emotional card with us, clone," Ora sneered. "We know Jango Fett died on Geonosis. Boba was there, and he brought his armor back with him. We've been with him ever since."

Spall just held up his hands. "Fine, I admit it. I know I'm not exactly Jango Fett. But unlike all the other clones, I carry his memories; in fact, I do."

Boba frowned at this. "That should be...?"

Spall exhaled. "Jester Merrell."

Boba's eyes narrowed at the mention of the name.

"So what does this name mean to me?"

“Well, that’s fair to say,” Sparr said. “Considering what Jango said about him. How he was raised by him, how he followed in his footsteps and became Mandalore. He leaned closer. “You are the embodiment of Mereel’s will.”

Boba has a tough look on his face, but his eyes…

"Guys." Boba looked down at the table. "Give me a minute."

"But Boba—"

"Please, Ola. Just this once.

Ola glared at Spall. "If anything goes wrong, I will shoot you myself."

"Then go ahead."

Aura quickly left the cubicle, followed by the others. Each was hesitant to do so, but Paliduwan made them obey quickly and go somewhere else. They didn't leave the room completely, just went somewhere far away, as they were within sight of the cubicle where Boba was currently sitting.

"What do you want to talk about?"

“That should be obvious.” Spar said, sitting with his…brother, so to speak. “With his memories, I know how much Jango misses the Mandalorians, his people; your people.

“But he was banished.”

“No.” Spall shook his head. “Jango follows the old ways, the ways of true Mandalore. The Death Watch and the New Mandalorian simply branded him as such. He rules as our true Mandalore. Because Jango inherited Jaster’s will and title, because Jango is his son, besides blood.”

Boba kept his head down, but it was easy to see that he was shaking.

"Why are you telling me all this?" Boba asked sharply, his eyes glaring at Spall.

"I want you to return home to your people."

"I was never one of the Mandalorians," Boba said.

Spall smiled. "You understand our words. You know our ways, even if you don't even realize it. Your father taught you everything he knew before Geonosis. I just want to help fill in the gaps he left behind."

Boba's fists clenched tightly and an angry look crossed his face.

"I already know you want revenge on the man who took him away from you. But that's not what your father would want. He wants you to live, to have a life, to--"

"What do you know?!" Boba roared. "You have my father's memories, don't you?! You should know that he killed Torrey Vizsla in revenge for his father's death. How can you say that about revenge?"

Spall sighed and leaned back, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Something about revenge, Boba." Spar said. "Having his memories and everything gives you that perspective." He smiled wryly. "Sometimes, having all those memories is both a blessing and a curse."

The two sat there quietly.

"Revenge, Boba, you gain nothing." Spar said. "Killing Tore gained him nothing. It felt fulfilling at first, but let me tell you, Jango lost everything afterwards. His clan and his brothers and sisters were all dead. His title was gone, his pride and dignity were stolen. Now tell me Boba, does this sound like something you want?"

Boba didn't respond.

"I reclaimed the title in order to carry on Jango's memory in hopes of passing it on to you, his son and heir." Spar said sincerely. "Please Boba, come home. Your people and your clan will welcome you with open arms.

Boba said nothing when he heard this.

Spurr sighed again and pulled out a transmitter, placing it in front of Boba. "Take a moment to think about this. You don't have to come back now, as our doors will always be open to you. When you have thought it through, use it to contact me, and I will help you return to your place in the galaxy."

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