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Jango fights hard and dirty. He throws sand into the dark Jedi’s eyes, and shoots. The jedi with the purple lightsaber dodges the blaster shots, sending them away towards the droids. He cuts the wire Jango tried to wrap around his neck. He ducks against Jango’s attempts and kicks at the bounty hunter. With a Force pull and a swipe, Jango’s head falls from his body.
His armored body drops, stark against the sand. It flashes to white, and the plastoid armor rattles when it hits the ground. Boba blinks when a cadet jostles him, jerking back against their restraints. Boba can’t stop the cry that escapes his throat. It’s like watching his father fall all over again, with the way Commander Ponds’ body jerks back and crumbles to the ground.
The other cadets with him scream at the gunshot. The Admiral cowers and all Boba can do is stare.
White noise fills his ears. Shock stops his nervous system. Boba can hardly move, eyes unblinking at the scene. Spidery fingers grips his shoulder, pulling hard on his cadet uniform as red lights fill the room. He sinks to the floor at the touch, crawling to the body.
“Buir.” The word slips out before Boba can stop it, knowing the clone wears too white of armor to be his father. The commander’s eyes blearily glance his way before staring up at the ceiling in agony, clouded in pain. Boba himself is lost in another moment, one filled with the harsh sands of Genosis. The words he never could let out that day slip out today to this clone. “Buir, please.”
“Boba!” Sing yells, and it’s the first word he hears amidst the ringing in his ears. “Boba, come on! It’s just a stupid meatdroid.” She pulls his shoulder again, nails digging into skin and Boba curls around the limp body. He can’t leave his father again. He can’t. He can’t! “He’s not your father!” Her screams go unnoticed, and with her patience gone, Sing snaps her head to the nearby trandoshian. “Grab him! Throw him on the ship.”
When Boba feels Bossk’s hands wrap around his chest, he screams. “No!” His arms wrap around the clone, fingers pinched by white armor. “No!” When his body is lifted away, Boba throws out all dignity he has left. “Let me save him!” He begs. “Let me save him! Please.” His voice catches on the word, stuttering before dragging it out.
Sing scoffs at his words but Boba squirms, scratching and fighting to get free. She points her blaster at Commander Ponds and Boba lets out a murderous shriek. He can see the blood pool around the blue white armor.
Bossk speaks up then, words dripping with amusement, before Sing can commit to her decision. “Just let him take the clone.”
Sing’s brows are pinched in annoyance, her face contorting to frown. She throws Bossk a glare and Boba can feel his careless shrug. “There’s other clones,” Sing stresses to Boba. “Why do you want this one?” She pulls at Boba’s chin. “We’ll get you one that’s not broken. Wouldn’t you like that? A meatdroid that looks just like your father?” She muses, trying to ease the child into obedience.
Boba thumps to the floor after Bossk lets him go. He doesn’t look at Sing – not sure if she would see the lie in his eyes – when he speaks, “Please.” He can’t think of an excuse at the moment, not with the blood that steadily leaves Ponds’ body. He messily removes the armor and presses his hands against the man’s stomach, trying to stop the flowing. “We need him.” I need him, is what he doesn’t say but he’s sure Sing can tell by the irritated roll of her eyes.
“Bossk,” she orders and it’s a hollow victory for Boba. Bossk pushes Boba to the side and shoots. Boba’s yell gets cut off when he sees the shot hit the ground next to Ponds. Bossk puts the still hot gun barrel to Ponds’ stomach and the man flinches as the heat sizzles against skin. He tries to squirm away, a silent scream exiting his throat but it’s useless. After a few moments, Bossk pulls the weapon away and throws the Commander over his shoulder. Ponds grunts in agony as his freshly sealed wound is pressed against, his own hands trying to reach his stomach but fails due to the awkward position. Boba feels sick at the sight of remaining blood dripping to the floor from the other, at the sounds of pain escaping the clone.
His eyes roam the room to escape the sight. The distraction works as he realizes the other cadets are still in the room with him. The Admiral stares at the floor, not interjecting as the Commander is taken. Not even helping and Boba scowls. He sniffs, ignoring the tear tracks on his cheeks, as he points to the cadets. “And them!”
The cadets flinch at his order. All at least but Jax who glares at him. “We’re taking them.”
“No the kriff you aren’t.” Jax took one step forward before he backs away as Sing levels her blaster at him.
“And what do you want them for?” she asks, tone as bored as her stance.
Boba swallows. He catches the other cadets’ eyes, seeing fear and anger directed his way. His heart thumps hard in his chest, and he exhales before spitting out, “We can sell them.”
Sing smirks at his response. “Didn’t think you had it in you,” she purrs, still aiming at the cadets. She pets Boba’s hair and Boba tries not to shiver at her touch. “Get moving,” she barks to the cadets.
Jax sneers at her and spits at her feet. Sing raises an eyebrow at his boldness.
“Sure you can sell him?”
Boba can’t admit to Jax that this is the best alternative, that he won’t sell the cadet who tried to be his friend, not without Sing holding it against him, but he knows saying nothing will just enable her to kill him. Boba can’t have that. “He’s mine,” Boba says, as though he has the right to own a clone. A person.
Sing hums, and spins the blaster in her hand. A shot sounds out in the room before Boba is aware she’s pointed it at another cadet. Whiplash screams in pain, gripping the cadet, HotShot, next to him as he sinks to his knees.”You’ll listen to your new owner,” and Sing lifts the blaster higher, to Whiplash’s head as she stares at Jax, “won’t you?” Jax’s jaw clenches at the rhetorical question, staring in helpless frustration at his batch. His eyes glance to Sing before meeting Boba’s.
His head dips into a single nod. Boba’s stomach sickens at his despair.
Sing motions with her gun and the cadets take the cue. They huddle around Whiplash, helping him walk towards Slave 1. All the while, Jax keeps Boba’s gaze, his eyes filled with disgust and hatred, up until the hangar door, where he’s forced to break eye contact.
Boba doesn’t say thank you to Sing, but she does lean down to whisper in his ear, pleased. “I’ll be expecting you tonight.” Her hands ghost over his shoulders and down his arms, and goosebumps rise at her soft touch. Bossk passes them, where Boba has the misfortune of catching Ponds’ gaze when he shifts his eyes away from Sing and her lust.
Ponds shakes his head, grunting out a “Boba, don’t-” He doesn’t finish his sentence as Bossk takes that time to jostle him as they walk into Jango’s ship. Boba wishes he knew what the Commander meant; pretends that it’s Boba he’s concerned about. When Sing kills the Admiral though, he knows that regardless of what they or he wants, this is happening.
He owns slaves now. Two clone slaves. He will have to sell the other cadets if he wants to keep up appearances. Sing doesn’t do favors, but if one night with her is enough to keep Ponds and Jax alive, then he’ll do whatever she says.
“Forgive me,” he says quietly, as though the clones could hear him. As though there was a chance that they would. He repeats the words silently as he follows Sing aboard.