Boba hesitates, eyes lowered as he pushes his food around his plate. The truth is, he does want to talk about it and he wonders, briefly, if Lucien might have some power that makes people want to open up to him when they normally wouldn’t. He dismisses the thought rather guiltily. Even if Lucien did, Boba’s own powers render him immune to such effects.

“They… work for the people who killed my dad,” he says after a long moment. “People who tried to hunt me down after he was gone. Or I thought that's who they worked for.” He’s not so sure about 622 anymore, but Rex still seems to serve the Jedi, or at least the Republic. “I think… maybe they let me go because they think I’m one of them. But I’m not. They know I’m not.” He makes a frustrated sound and looks up at Lucien, as if he might have the answers. “They don't make sense.”