8: Father and Master
Varius stepped back, breathing heavily. He was exhausted from the tough training Dooku had been assigned to give him, but he felt his power growing slowly. During the past few days, he had not been using his full potential—or rather, the lightsaber crystal was not feeling enough anger and hate from him to fuel him with the strength. He disliked depending on this special crystal, but he had no choice. If he could have the power to kill Mace Windu through this, then he would accept his fate.
"You're growing weak," Dooku commented dryly, "Or are you becoming lazy, Varius?"
"We've been training for days, and so many hours at that! I'm tired," Varius retorted, wiping the sweat off his forehead. Dooku shook his head in disappointment and folded his arms.
"Darth Sidious won't be happy about your progress," he told the younger Sith, "You will regret slacking when he takes up the role of Master again."
"Where is he, anyway?" Varius asked, frowning, "He's supposed to be the Master, not you."
Dooku grimaced. "He is on an important assignment which will help to the downfall of the Republic. It is important he does these things, so that there will be an easy victory at the end."
"What does he do?" Varius asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Ask him yourself," Dooku growled, "I'm afraid I do not trust you enough to reveal his plans and his movements."
"I'm his apprentice," Varius said darkly, stepping forward.
"So am I," countered Dooku impatiently, "Now we must return to our training. If not, when the time comes for you to face Mace Windu, you will fall within a minute."
Varius felt his anger rise. "I'm not as weak as you think," he said angrily.
"Prove it!" challenged Dooku. He lunged at the young apprentice and struck the boy down, his move being parried only at the last second. Clearly, Varius was not prepared at all. He continued to attack Varius swiftly, his movements getting faster and stronger by the seconds.
Varius blocked off all his attacks, alarmed at the fact that there was no opening for him to strike back. He thought of his father, and how Mace Windu had beheaded his father without hesitation on that field in Geonosis, and he felt his anger rise even higher. The lightsaber's humming grew louder, and Varius could feel the adrenaline course through his veins as he suddenly swung his lightsaber toward Dooku, finally attacking back and taking the upper hand.
His movements, over time, became faster and slightly stronger, pleasing Dooku. Although he did not like the boy, the satisfaction he felt when training the boy and bringing him to greater strength overpowered his dislike. He had not felt so accomplished ever since his last apprentice, one that was under his wing a long time ago…
"Are you paying attention, Dooku?" Varius taunted, barely slicing Dooku's arm off. He finally realized that Varius was no longer holding back.
"Control yourself," he growled, parrying Varius' attacks, "You must bear in mind that I am not Master Windu."
Varius chuckled. "Of course you aren't," he replied nonchalantly, sidestepping Dooku's attack easily.
He swung his lightsaber high and gave one final almighty strike, before deactivating his weapon and falling back against the wall, exhausted. "That takes a lot out of you, doesn't it, Varius?" Dooku said, walking nearer to Varius, "The power of the dark side reacts strangely to you… it gives you power, and at the end of the battle, takes everything away…"
"Whatever," Varius spat, "Getting stronger is all I'm aiming for. I can feel my power growing." He looked up at Dooku, who merely looked back down at him with an emotionless expression.
"You are a strange one, Varius," Dooku growled, "There is a reason why I declined that lightsaber a long time ago." Before Varius could question him further, Dooku left, leaving the boy alone to his thoughts.
Indeed, he felt much weaker rather than stronger after the battle, but after a good night's rest, he would emerge the next morning feeling much stronger. Varius stood up and made his way back to his room and set all his gear on the table beside his bed. He fell back onto his bed, and heaved a long sigh of contentment. This was a much more productive training method than how he had trained under Plo Koon.
His old Master.
His dead Master.
Thoughts reeled back to the first time Varius had smiled at his Master. It was the first time he had constructed his lightsaber with Plo Koon by his side, and he had done it successfully. Plo Koon had told him that he was special—the best apprentice he had ever taken and he did not regret his choice. Varius had felt so elated to hear those words, as though hearing it from his father himself.
He had treated Plo Koon as a father figure. Varius' smile slid from his face as he realized the cold, hard truth: he had let Plo Koon die for nothing.
You can't think this way, he told himself, your only goal is to kill Mace Windu. After that, your future won't lie with those lightsaber wielders. You're going to be like Jango Fett. You're going to be just like Dad.
But was it true? Had his heart not changed over the years with Plo Koon and the Jedi?
"Yes," he said out loud, staring hard at the ceiling, "I'm still the same."
Weak. Vulnerable. Desperate.
He closed his eyes and slid off into an uneasy sleep.
He was running now. Running from what, he did not know, but he was scared. It was going to catch him soon if he didn't speed up, so he tried to. But his legs could only go this fast, and he could feel it coming.
It was behind him now, its hot breath on his neck, making his hair stand on end. "Boba," it whispered, "Come back to me."
"Get away from me! Who are you?" he yelled, not stopping.
"Your father…"
Suddenly, he was Boba Fett all over again. He was no Darth Varius—who was he kidding?
"Dad?" said Boba, slowly turning around. When his eyes met the identical same ones, his heart felt like it was about to explode. He dashed towards his father and embraced the older man, feeling tears of joy well up in his eyes.
"Boba," his father said, "Why haven't you killed him yet?"
Boba looked up at his father, only to find himself in the strong arms of his former Master: Plo Koon.
"W-What?" he muttered, not knowing what to say. Where was his father whom he was holding a moment ago?
"Why haven't you killed Mace Windu…?" Plo Koon asked him, as though it were truly an innocent question, "Have you come to the Jedi's side now? Have you forgiven him for…"
"…killing me?" Within a split second, Plo Koon had changed back into Jango Fett, but this time, the gentle face of the older man had changed into a fierce, dominant one.
"Dad…"
"Don't call me Dad," growled Jango angrily.
"I'm sorry… I'm going to… I just need more time…"
"And you will always have time," Plo Koon muttered in his ear, holding his apprentice tightly, "Time to return to the light… time to forgive Mace Windu… time to grow up."
"I am grown up!" he yelled.
"You'll always be Daddy's little boy," Jango said, laughing, "Always."
"Dad… come back to me!" he pleaded. "I'm so scared, all alone! I don't want to be a Jedi or a Sith…"
"I can't right now. I'll be back within the month, I promise." His father was, suddenly, in his bounty hunter suit. Boba had never liked dreams, for they held, for the most part, no sense at all. But now, he was staring at his father again. Surely this was heaven!
"Why…?" he asked.
Jango let go of his son and walked off, his hand in the shape of a gun pointing upwards—a sign he always gave Boba before he left, out of pure habit. It must have meant something… he must find out… before his father left him again…
"Wait, I—"
The hum of a lightsaber stopped Boba in his tracks. The purple blade sliced through Jango's neck and cracked the helmet open. The head of Jango Fett rolled onto the floor and stopped at Boba's feet, but the face inside the mask was not his father's…
"Master," he whispered. Plo Koon's face stared up at him, lifeless and unmoving.
But it spoke.
"Boba… forgive me for not… protecting you…"
His father spoke now.
"…long enough… I never wanted to die like this…"
"I wanted to raise you to be the perfect…"
"…son…"
"…son…"
His Master and father had said the same thing. Boba fell onto his knees, feeling the hot tears sting his eyes as they rolled down his cheeks. "Come back to me…" he sobbed.
"COME BACK TO ME!" he yelled, sitting bolt upright. But he never knew who he was calling for.
"Darth Tyrannus," Sidious said, addressing his apprentice.
"Yes, Master?" Dooku said, kneeling before the older Sith.
"I think it's time we gave Varius a mission," Sidious informed Dooku, "Skywalker and Kenobi are looking for him after learning of Plo Koon's demise. It will be his trial… to kill both Jedi."
"I thought you were targeting the Skywalker boy as your apprentice next…" Dooku said, unsure of his Master's intentions.
"It will be a test for both," Sidious growled, "If Varius fails, Skywalker will take up the role of my new apprentice… but if he succeeds… I have chosen a younger and stronger choice…"
Dooku nodded, and stood up. He was not going to make wild guesses, but something told him that Varius was a weakling, far worse a fighter compared to Skywalker. He is easily swayed, Dooku thought to himself, and he will be easily brought back into the light.
I, for one, am willing to bet on Skywalker… who will emerge victor…