?Here he is, Jango.? Taun We?s long arms extended a small bundle to Jango Fett. ?He is a month old, and his name is Boba, as you said.? The bounty hunter accepted the child with an unpracticed embrace. He roughly held the infant against his chest. ?What does he eat?? ?Your kitchen will be stocked with milk when your weekly food parcel arrives. As you requested, a crib was put in your sleeping quarters. Keep us posted on your supply of diapers.? Diapers! Jango groaned to himself, this kid is going to be a real pain! He strode down the hallway, trying with little success to cushion his heavy footsteps. Each step jarred the infant, and Boba threatened to wake. Jango glowered down at the baby. What demon had possessed his mind that had made him ask for a clone? His gaze softened?a little?as Boba turned his head to face the other direction. A miniscule sigh of sheer comfort escaped his tiny lips. A flicker of regret danced across Jango?s features. Is that what I was; what I used to be? Who was it that gazed down on me when I was so small? Jango had no memory of his mother. The earliest thing he could recall was the electric whip burning scars across his back. The marks still remained on his body, and on his mind. Boba will never feel a whip on his back, vowed Jango, He will be the one to wield the whip.