Star Wars: Born to Kill

Prologue

"N-no, please. I have a family! I-" The man came to abrupt silence. A steaming, red hole was gaping on his forehead, an abnormality to his body. His life ended as soon as the trigger was pulled. Boba stared, eyes wide open, at his father, then at the dead human.
"Don't look so shocked, Boba. He wasn't a man; he was our prize." Boba stared at his dad, a sense of guilt filling inside him, especially after what he'd just heard. Jango ruffled Boba's wild hair before starting to make a leave from the filthy apartment. However, as they turned, a gasp arose from a closet behind them.
"Dad, did you hear that?" Asked Boba, begin to panic.
"Boba, stay here." Responded Jango, staring at the closet whilst doing so. "Take this too." Boba's dad handed him one of his WESTAR-34 blaster pistols, before treading lightly towards the cupboard. As he reached half way, an idea struck him. He turned to look at Boba, then gestured for him to come over. Once he was at his feet, he pointed at the blaster in his son's hand, then at the cupboard. Boba looked up at his dad, an expression of worry on his face. Noticing this, Boba patted his son on the back, then mouthed do not worry, just make it fast. Boba creeped towards the closet, shaking. Following the steps of his dad, he pulled the doors open with force, causing them to slam against the wall. Blaster aimed, finger on the trigger, Boba opened fire. The scream of a woman and a child echoed through the room, then abruptly silenced. Boba dropped the weapon, then onto his knees.
"You've done me proud, Boba. Wipe your eyes, then we'll get going." However, Boba wasn't crying. A slight smile appeared on his face. He felt the pleasure of killing, as well as the thrill. He was becoming what his dad was, and it was a good feeling.