Saga Republic Commando: Boba (Delta Squad/Boba vignette, G)

Disclaimer: Lucas owns all of it.

Boba

Oh, there is nothing quite like the feeling after successfuly completing an exercise. Sweet satisfaction.

"Endex! Endex!"

End of exercise. For a moment I pitied normal men, for they would never feel that wave of joy from such a simple word.

Then I remembered that normal men had parents, had real lives. People cared for normal men.

However, I took comfort that despite my feelings towards regular people, those normal lives they cherished would not be safe without me and my mates risking a blaster bolt in the rear for them.

I felt better.

"Alright, boys. Take a break. You've definitely earned it," said Sergeant Vau. "Especially you, Sev. Didn't know that was possible with a sniper rifle."

"Thank you, sir."

All of us exited the cavernous training room, wisps of smoke still curling from the barrels of our Deeces.

We had just blasted apart two dozen simulated battle droids. A nice, clean job.

Just then, a little boy wandered around the corner. Fierfek. Some post-exercise relaxation ruined with helping a lost clone youngster.

The odd thing was, is that this clone looked a bit too young. He didn't have a uniform on. There were rumors about a clone that was unaltered--no growth acceleration, nothing. Perhaps some kind of new soldier, superior to even the ARCs?

"Whoa! You guys look wicked!" the boy said, his wide eyes full of innocence. He looked about four years old, biologically.

It felt odd looking at him. I always felt this way when looking at the younger clones. I guess it was nostalgia. I don't know why, but it made my heart warm. Like the feeling I get when looking out into the rainy oceans of Kamino.

An odd feeling. Not satisfaction... What was it?

My demolitions expert struck a pose with his Deece, his ego obviously taking a boost.

"Thank you. Where's your unit?"

"I don't have one."

Marvelous. A rogue.

"Who's your superior officer, then?"

"Ummmm," the boy dragged, looking at the ceiling with his finger on his chin. "My daddy, I think."

'Daddy'? Was this poor boy delusional? I suppose he had every right to be. That he exists for the sole purpose to kill and die. Being taught he has no mother, no father, nothing, should traumatize a child.

Then why aren't I traumatized?

"I wonder what Sergeant Vau would do if I called him Daddy." Scorch said over our helmet freq.

Sev made a coughing sound, stifling his laughter. Since the helmets muted anything said by the wearer, he looked like he was a mime acting out a seizure.

A gruff, well built man sprinted around the corner.

"Boba!" he hissed.

"What kind of stupid name is 'Boba'?" Scorch whispered over the helmet speakers.

"I don't know," Sev replied. "What kind of stupid name is 'Scorch'?"

It was Jango Fett, the prime clone. It was quite rare to see the man who all of us recieved our genes from. The man who, in a sense, gave us life.

Some might say the existence of a war gave us life, but it was more comforting to think the former.

Most clones saw him as a father. Well, at least I did. The idea might be odd to anyone else, since his face was exactly like mine, except slightly more aged and is clearly scarred.

I wonder what he thought of us, the millions of armored imposters that carried his face. Did he think of us as his children? Or did he think of us just like everyone else does: mindless, organic droids? Or even worse: the toy soldiers that provided him with his paycheck?

I put it out of my mind.

As if by reflex, we all saluted. He awkwardly returned the salute, then turned back to this rogue boy.

"Boba, what do I always tell you?!

"Dad... Not in front of the--"

"What do I always tell you?" Jango repeated coldly.

"To never--"

"Ever leave my sight!" he yelled with a think accent.

The boy sniffed and looked down at the floor.

"Sorry, dad."

Jango let out a frustrated sigh.

"Go to your room. We'll talk about this later."

'Dad'? Were the rumors true? I felt much better, knowi

 

I wonder what he thought of us, the millions of armored imposters that carried his face. Did he think of us as his children? Or did he think of us just like everyone else does: mindless, organic droids? Or even worse: the toy soldiers that provided him with his paycheck?

'Dad'? Were the rumors true? I felt much better, knowing that the man I looked up to cared for at least one of us.

Wow. This is good stuff. I'm definitely looking forward to reading more of your stories. Is there any chance I could talk you into writing a longer - say, a 10,000-word fic? Not that vigs aren't good (and if you stop writing them, I swear I will e-hunt you down ), but I would love to read it.

- lazy

 

As I said in Beyond.

Excellent

 

Thanks. As for convinving me, go ahead and try. But I prefer vignettes because, basically, it's short and sweet. Not to mention it's damned hard to get writer's block when doing a vignette.

 

Wow, very nice I really liked it.

 

Excellent piece!

Lazy, thanks for the heads-up about this.

 

Dude you really need to PM me, we can come up with some good stories together. Simper Fi.

 

I'll think about it. And again, it's Semper Fi.

 

Great job!

"How come I don't have a cool accent like that?"

That was hilarious.

 

Heh. Thanks. I'm mainly proud of Boba, though. I just like the thought of him going "Wicked!" ala Ani.

 

Mandos and Commandos. I love it.

 

I can only second the comments here...
Very well done, Antilles2001! I especially like the passage Lazy already pointed out. And Scorch is just as funny as he is in the game. Again, good job!

 

nice piece..

 

Up this sweet viggie!