Even without the Force, Boba can feel that tension in the air—the expectation of violence, wavering between apprehension and anticipation. Is she waiting for him to attack? Or is he waiting for her?

In the end, it’s the Jedi who lowers her weapon first. Certainly, the thought of surprising her now does occur to Boba. His blaster is still trained on her. Getting the upper hand now would be as simple as pulling the trigger. He lets the thought linger, turning the image over in his mind…

And then, finally, lowers his blaster as well. It would be satisfying to watch her fall, but that isn’t enough reason to end her. As grudging as he may be to admit it, a full-fledged Jedi knight is more of an asset to their side than a liability—even with her questionable attitude towards wartime justice.

Yet, his enmity towards her is far from forgotten. Even the name of the legendary Mand’alor, though enough to give him pause—is she really from so far in the past?—does little to improve his opinion.

“A retreating enemy will regroup. A dead one doesn’t have that option.”

It’s useless to argue, he knows. She has, in her own mind, proven her moral superiority. To a Jedi, that’s all that matters.

In the distance, the rev of transport engines signals that the time to depart draws near. Boba stands in the clearing, watching the Jedi for another long moment before he, too, begins to walk back in the direction of the safe house.

Yes, he thinks. A dead enemy is a much simpler proposition by far.