Chapter Text
Once, Boba had hated the Jetii.
He still didn’t exactly like them, but it was hard to hate a group of people that he’d watched be systematically executed and the very few survivors hunted down and slaughtered.
So no. Boba didn’t really hate the Jetii anymore.
But, gods help him, Obi-Wan Kenobi drove him insane.
“Disintegration,” the old man said, nodding seriously. “We’ll make it look like it was disintegration.”
“It won’t work.” As was normal, Obi-Wan ignored him, and how had Boba’s brothers-but-not-brothers dealt with him? Commander Cody must have been some sort of deity to have spent three years at Kenobi’s side and not murdered him.
Boba flinched at the thought and hoped that Obi-Wan hadn’t gotten a hint of it in his whole ‘Force’ sense, because Boba had a couple of lines he tried not to cross and reminding Obi-Wan that his trusted Commander had been forced to kill him would probably cross some of those.
“You’ll still get the bounty reward for taking out Obi-Wan Kenobi, which, if I do say so myself, is starting to get ridiculously exorbitant, while I get to once again disappear with no one looking for me.”
“Until you blow your cover again,” Boba argued, and he wondered, not for the first time, if Obi-Wan was really this ridiculous or if he was trying to make Boba really murder him. “And then it looks like I don’t know how to do my job. I’ve got a reputation, Kenobi. And you’ll ruin it.”
Obi-Wan snorted. “And I have a reputation for making even Vader look like a fool. No one’s going to be judging you too harshly when they’ve all been fooled just as badly.”
“I’d like to not be one of those fools.” Boba wasn’t pouting, he wasn’t.
Boba was wearing his helmet, but the smirk on Obi-Wan’s face said he knew that Boba was pouting and found it hilarious. “Ah, young Fett, everyone is one of those fools.”
Sometimes Boba wondered what would have happened if his Buir and Kenobi had actually had the chance to know each other instead of fighting once and then his Buir being killed by kriffin’ Windu. He was always split on whether his Buir would have murdered Kenobi for being the most annoying person he’d ever met, or if his Buir would have been as reluctantly charmed by the man the way everyone else was.
Boba included.
He had genuinely planned to murder Kenobi the first time. The bounty for all surviving Jetii was pretty high, but Boba had mostly ignored them—the whole genocide thing having somewhat turned him off. But Kenobi’s bounty was astronomical, and Boba had still had enough left over hatred over the fact that if Kenobi had never shown up on Kamino then his Buir would never have ended up murdered on Geonosis to convince himself that going after Kenobi was fair.
But then Obi-Wan had managed to get the drop on Boba, and somehow there’d been tea and dinner involved, and the next thing Boba knew he’d been helping Obi-Wan sneak past an imperial blockade and they were sort-of-kind-of friends.
He genuinely had no idea how the man did it.
“Aren’t you supposed to be hiding out on some desert planet?” Boba complained. “Why do I keep running into you while you make a mess of everything?”
“I’ll make no apologies for making a mess of the Empire’s dealings,” Obi-Wan said easily. “And whose to say I wasn’t hiding out here this whole time?”
Boba snorted. “Because if you had been hiding out here, you wouldn’t be having this conversation with me right now because I’d have never found you.”
“Perhaps I made a mistake,” Obi-Wan offered. Boba just raised an eyebrow and Obi-Wan—who always seemed to know what look Boba was giving him, despite the fact that Boba was wearing his helmet—huffed. “All right, so I haven’t been hiding out on this planet. But I had reason for being here and reason for drawing attention to myself.”
“What was it?”
This time Obi-Wan gave him a raised eyebrow.
“Oh come on.” Boba did not pout. “I’m about to help you fake your death again.” It was kind of amazing that anyone ever believed Kenobi was dead, since Boba was pretty sure—if he counted that time during the war—that Kenobi had faked his death at least five or six times now. Boba had already helped him do it twice. “Although I suppose I should be grateful I get credit for it this time.”
“Yes, you could probably retire, with how many credits this will gain you.” Obi-Wan said, as though him faking his death was doing Boba a favor.
“I should at least get to know why you decided to bring the attention of three different imperial battalions and half the bounty hunters’ guild down on you.”
Obi-Wan’s face did that thing, where his eyes went all sad but the rest of his face twisted into a snooty glare. “It’s not—”
“Please.”
Obi-Wan sighed. “I’d heard rumor that some of my men from the 212th were going to be here,” Obi-Wan admitted. “I’d hoped that perhaps I’d be able to draw some of them out to hunt me.”
Boba slumped a little. It wasn’t really a surprise. He’d known Obi-Wan long enough now to know that Kenobi had loved Boba’s brothers-but-not-brothers, and that their ‘betrayal’ had almost killed Kenobi more than the actual cannon they’d shot at him had.
—Obi-Wan would probably have preferred that Boba never knew that, but Boba had been seen the nightmare and the tears that Obi-Wan pretended weren’t there when he woke up—
“What were you going to do, kidnap them?”
Obi-Wan shrugged.
Boba closed his eyes and reminded himself that banging his head on a wall wouldn’t help him. “And then, what, smuggle a bunch of unconscious troopers past everyone hunting you?”
Obi-Wan shrugged again.
“I don’t know how the hell you’re still alive.” Boba decided. “Were there any of the 212th around?” Because it was the stupidest plan Boba had ever heard, but if Obi-Wan had already gotten this far in his plan, Boba might as well end up helping him to make sure that neither Kenobi or Boba’s brothers-but-not-brothers ended up dead.
“No.” Obi-Wan’s voice wasn’t sad. Boba didn’t think he’d ever actually heard Obi-Wan be sad, as though he thought that if he let some of the sorrow that literally emanated from him be heard then people would realize that he wasn’t Obi-Wan ‘untouchable’ Kenobi, but rather a man that had been betrayed and lost everything and was just doing his best to survive in a galaxy that wanted to destroy him.
—sometimes Boba thought that was what had really won Boba over into being Obi-Wan Kenobi’s friend. Because sometimes he looked at Obi-Wan Kenobi, whose whole world had been destroyed and he was still maintaining that he was fine, and he saw his buir again, who had known his own fair share of loss and had still kept all of that grief inside so that no one could ever use it against him.—
“Fine.” Boba decided. “Disintegration. We’ll pretend to disintegrate you, but you’re going to stay out of sight for at least a year, if not two.”
Obi-Wan smiled at him as though they weren’t planning how to fake Kenobi’s death so that he could lose the hundreds of imperials and hunters that were currently on his tail. “Thank you, Boba.”
“You’re trouble, Kenobi.” Boba said, and he tried, tried, tried to keep his fondness out of his voice.
“Oh, that is undoubtedly true.” Obi-Wan said, and this time his smile seemed almost genuine. Boba had a bad feeling that Obi-Wan wouldn’t even make it half a year before he made Boba’s life difficult again.
—five months later, as he helped Obi-Wan smuggle a squad of troopers off planet and to a medical facility run by rebel sympathizers, he was proven right. Obi-Wan was trouble.—