ByHayden Mears, writer at Creators.co
Hayden Mears

Here is my MP Origin Story contest entry! Enjoy!

I crept through the brightly lit corridor, a gloved hand straying to the blaster hanging from my belt as I rounded the nearest corner. Slave-1, my prized space vessel, sat in poor repair on the rain-lashed platform just beyond the glass doors I'd just passed through, waiting for me to acquire the parts I needed to put her back in the sky. I could hear her calling to me, imploring me to come back to her and join her on that cosmic odyssey we'd been planning for years. I'll be back soon, I responded, my soul aching to be back with her.

But a second, louder voice drowned out her pleas. A voice I hated more more than Mace Windu himself. A voice that had reverberated in my brain for half a decade.

It came from just yards away, in a room tucked away at the back of this accursed Kamino cloning facility. I'm glad he's here, I thought, my heart beginning to pump twice as fast at the very mention of my cruel, deceitful father's name. I'm glad I get to end this now.

I inched closer, the blaster leaving my belt and nuzzling the side of my helmet as I pressed my armored body against the bright wall adjacent to his room.

It'd been five years since that fateful fight with the Jedi on Geonosis, when my father's head had been torn from his shoulders with one mighty swing of a lightsaber. Only it hadn't been my father that perished that day; it had been a willing imposter, a man with no regard for his own life or liberty. The man's name remained a mystery to me, but as far as I was concerned, his bleached bones could rot where they sat on that sad, sandy wasteland some call a planet.

Meanwhile, Jango, knowing this to be his greatest ruse yet, slipped away with nothing but the wit and will of a man who treasured his own miserable existence above all else. And now there he stood, rummaging through his things without a care in the world.

With my father's numerous crimes against me fresh in my head, I took a deep breath and spun around the corner of the wall, sending a thin bolt of red light zinging from the tip of my blaster and through the window across the room. Jango Fett had disappeared.

I cursed and stepped into the room before leaping backward as a bolt from his own blaster struck the wall inches from my head. Jango sprang from who-knows-where and tackled me to the polished floor, punching and pummeling me with scarred fists as he fought to rip the helmet from my head.

I thrashed wildly, my right fist connecting with his jaw as he lowered his face to mine. He emitted a loud grunt and tumbled off of me, his right hand disappearing into the depths of his bag as his left shot up to massage his aching jaw.

Before he could pull his weapon from his bag, I swung my own blaster around and fired, this time catching him square in the stomach. He stumbled backward with a scream, thin wisps of smoke drifting up from the smoking hole in his abdomen.

I sprang to my feet and advanced even as he retreated. “There are guards coming now. Killing me will cost you your head.”

“Lies!” I screamed, my voice ringing within the sweaty confines of my helmet. I stepped closer, pressing the barrel of my trembling blaster against his blood-caked cheek. “You kneel there, at my mercy, and expect me to take your filthy utterances as something more than falsities spun to save your own skin?”

He looked up at me, his dark eyes boring through my helmet and into my own. “Boba. I knew you'd come for me one day.”

“Don't say my name,” I seethed, rage boiling up inside me. “I hate you.”

He looked up at me for one single, shivering moment, then coughed out a derisive laugh.

“You don't hate me,” he spat between ragged breaths. “You hate what you've become, and you blame me for everything that's happened since Geonosis.”

I laughed, a bit too loudly, and pushed the gun deeper into the loose skin on his left cheek. “No, I hate you,” I said. And shot him in the head.

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