Author Topic: USD's Writing  (Read 4228 times)

Offline UnitedStatesDemocrat

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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #15 on: November 23, 2010, 08:19:26 AM »
Tyvon was unsure of how to get the man into safety.  He looked around, trying to find some solution to the the virtually impossible situation he had just put another being in.
   "That's it, Jedi.  You wouldn't risk his life just to bring me in, would you?  Too bad.  I can." 
   The man, now pulling a blaster into view from under the blue poncho he was wearing, placed it up to the man's back and fired.  The alien, whose eyes flared to life, fell to the ground, limp and dead.  His breathing stopped instantly.
   Tyvon, who was now angered by the vigilante's actions, reached for his lightsaber.  He noticed that it was no longer clipped to his belt.
   Where is it?!
   He turned around to locate it, and amidst the swarming crowd and the pelting rain, he managed to spot his lightsaber.  Calling it to his grasp with the Force, he gripped the familiar metallic surface and hit the igniting switch.
   Turning his body around, he pushed his body to it's highest abilities, literally flying over each step.
   Gaining lost ground on the assailant, he knew there was only one way that he could stop him.
   Building the force in him as he continued to run, he raised his lightsaber over his head and twirled it at the assassin.
   The man, by some other worldly power, noticed the blade flying at him quicker than ever, and managed to jump over the blade, using the assisstance of a jet pack to just miss the blade.
   Tyvon caught the blade in his hand, stopping in defeat.
   Slowly, the criminal, whom he had tried so desperately to catch, slipped out of view over a parking garage.
   The Jedi slowly continued down the walkway.  He managed to reach a small pedestal-shaped power generator to sit down on, and think of possibilities to catch the bounty hunter.

_______

   Studying the holomap that was hovering from the com-link in front of him, Daniel made a right turn as was marked by the route.
   The newly appointed Jedi-Master had lots of questions about his new class, although he couldn't sort out which ones were probably the most dire.
   Regaining his original journey, he looke at the com-link and noticed that he had about 200 feet to go, spread out across a wide array of twists and turns
   Why did the maker of this place build it so that it was complex?
   He let out a sigh, and turned another corner.  Although being new here he was constantly being noticed by the long-serving veterans of the Jedi Order.  Surprisingly, the people of this "Order" accepted him right in to their society.  He didn't necessarily know if this was good or bad.
   I could have a lot of new friends on my hand, or I could've just slapped on my own cuffs into a life I may never be able to leave.
   He let out another, long drawn-in sigh.
   "Hello," he said casually to another Jedi Master, this time being an Nautolan.  The tendrils that ran down his back creeped Daniel out a bit, so he hurried on.
   Beep.  Noting from the beep, he had only one-hundred feet left to go before he reached his first session.
   His heart beated a bit faster.  He tried to take another deep breath, but when he exhaled, the effects of comfort and patience that formerly washed over him were now just a feint memory.
   He could feel a bead of sweat running down his temple from his hair.  He wiped it away on his hand, and then removed the moisture on to his newly fixated robes.
   He chuckled at the thought of Javuni finally giving him his robes.
   "Wear them proud, and do not ruin them like your master did, okay?"
   Beep. Fifty feet and he would be emerged in a sea of other younglings, some as confused as him, and others almost happy to be able to serve their galaxy in an agreement that, "they save people, but aren't recognized as heroes, and don't receive thanks." 
   Daniel could see the door from here.  He slowly focused, trying to prevent the adrenaline from pumping through his body any further.
   Inside him, a little voiced screamed not to go in, but he was within twenty feet now.  It was too late to turn back.  Too late to refuse.  Ten feet.  Five feet.  Four.  Three.  Two.  One.
   As he reached the door, it opened slowly.  The whole class that was now in session turned to look towards the door, as did the instructor.  The whole crowd stayed in their position.
   "Welcome, youngling," Daniel heard a raspy voice call.  But he could not see the being to whom the voice belonged.
   Slowly, a little man walked out from behind the crowd.
   "Right here."
   Daniel was a bit surprised about what he saw.  This was a little green man with pointed ears and graying hair slicked back down his scalp.  He was dressed in a miniature brown vest with long sleeves, which Daniel could see from the end of the man's small gray coat, and a pair of brown pants that reached his shoeless feet.
   "My name is Master Yoda.  Padawan Erinos, you must be."
   "Yes...," Daniel said with a shied voice, as he noticed that the man was nearly as tall as some of the younglings.
   As if Master Yoda could read his thoughts, he stated, "Size matters not, youngling.  One of the many lessons you will learn from me, this is.  Now, positioned in the back, you are.  Beside Padawan Gowards."  The Jedi Master pointed towards the vacant spot.
   Following the direction in which the little man was pointing, he immediately noticed the young girl with whom he would be positioned beside.
   As if the world stopped, he could not help but lose track of reality as he entered the beauty of the Padawan.
   Losing track of his place, Daniel misjudged a step-down and tripped, falling forward, but not causing any real harm.
   The whole class attending immediately laughed at the boy's fault.
   "Silence, silence.  Okay you are, Padawan Erinos?"
   The boy stepped up immediately, and brushed off the imaginary dust that usually lathered his body on Stoga.  "Fine.  Just fine."
   He stopped the day dreaming, and walked to his position, standing beside the other Padawans, embarrassed.
   As Master Yoda began to speak, he couldn't help but ignore him and stare at the girl beside him.
   "Nice fall," she joked.  In all seriousness, she asked, "Are you okay."
   Re-stating what he had just noted, he said in a lighter tone, "I'm fine."
   "Good.  I'd hate to see my new partner hurt on the first day."
   They both laughed quietly, and upon a stare from Master Yoda, they immediately ceased.
   Regaining a spot in Master Yoda's lesson, he listened about talks of lightsaber fighting forms, and then how some forms had strengths over others and how others had their weaknesses.  Daniel took mental notes on the lecture from Master Windu.
   After about an hour, the instructor began to move onto how the lightsaber designs they had selected would either limit or enhance their ability to give an optimum performance.
   "Now younglings, you will learn this lesson, as my demonstrations, you will follow, and in the selection of a form, you will aid your partner."
   Rectangular pedestals began to rise out of the ground, and an even larger pedestal arose in the center.
   Yoda stepped up onto it as it was still ascending and he became visible to all the padawans below.  "Start with Form I, we will.   Shii-Cho, it is also known as.  The most ancient form, it is."
   The Master ignited his lightsaber, now ready to begin.
   "Shii-Cho is basic, although useful.  Quick parries and slashes comprise this Form."
   Yoda quickly moved his left-downward-diagonal positioned block.  The padawans quickly repeated the action, copying the Master's stance exactly.
   Once again, the Master pointed his lightsaber the opposite way, facing in a right-upward-diagonal defense position.
   "Well done," Daniel said.
   Mensaura, whose name he had learned at the start of the lesson, gave him a slight grin.
   For the next several minutes, the Master slashed and weaved his lightsaber in many different directions, and the lightsabers of the Padawans mimicked his.
   Finally, when the session was over, the Jedi placed their weapons back on their belt.  The others did it with ease, although Daniel had difficulty doing this on his second time.
   "Very good, very good.  Confident I am, with your Shii-Cho performance."
   All the padawans were well ready to leave, although the Master still had some closing remarks for today's session.
   "Over the course of the next few days, we will begin to study the other forms of lightsaber combat: Makashi, Soresu, Ataru, Djem So, and Niman.  Dismissed, you are."
   As Master Yoda stepped down, he sensed a feeling of question in one of the students.  Turning around, he noticed that it was Padawan Goward's hand that was raised above the dispensing crowd.
   "Yes," he called.
   "Master, I noticed that you didn't mention Vaapad.  I was just a bit concerned."
   The Jedi Master looked slowly at the ground.
   Daniel waited beside Mensaura, intrigued by the point she had made.
   Master Yoda sighed, much as Daniel had during his arrival at the session.  "Vaapad, very dangerous it is."
   "Danger to the user?", Daniel asked.
   "Yes, but a physical danger, it is not.  A dark danger, it is."
   The two lone padawans, who were the only ones left in the room, quickly understood: this form was used by the Sith and Dark Jedi, and it was very dangerous, in the sense that it explodes the user with rage, and drags them deeper into the fight itself.
   "Thank you," Mensaura said, as they both began towards the exit.
   "A moment, Padawan Erinos." 
   The Padawan turned around, leaving Mensaura to exit the room alone.  She looked back at him, but her face was cut off by the shutting of the door.
   “Impressed I was, by your performance today.  More remarkable, passed the Jedi tests, you have.”
   Although the young boy believed that gloating for one's self was highly self-conscious, he had to admit that it was impressive.
   "Recommending you, I am, to a private Jedi instructor, for quicker and further enhancement in the Force."
   He was puzzled, and somewhat struck.  He was also in sorrow, as he was going to be separated from a new-found friend.
   "That is all, Padawan."
   He dismissed him by turning around and hobbling toward another door in the room.
   Daniel turned, and took his leave towards the door.
   When he emerged outside, he found his companion waiting for him.  "What did Master Yoda want?"
   He found it somewhat difficult to tell her, even though he didn't know her that well.
   "Master Yoda is reccomending me to a private instructor."
   "That is great!" she said.  But her enthusiasm soon died down as she came to the realization he had just come to.
   As they were walking down the corridor that led to the main commons, he spotted a helmeted figure fleeing.  Although the man didn't appear to have any bag that he was carrying, or any object of special interest in his possession, Daniel spotted his Master running behind him.
   If Master Roaf is chasing him, he must have committed a felony.
   Considering if he should pursue the man, or stay here and let things play out, something in his gut told him to pursue the man.
   "If you'll excuse me."  With his goodbye, he fled his position, towards one of the lifts to the lower levels.
   Hopping aboard, he watched as the angelic Mensaura quickly dissipated out of view.


________


   What was that thing?
   This was the only thought that could cross Tyvon's mind as he slowly walked his way towards another witness of what had occurred there.
   He began his investigational duties as a Jedi by asking the simple question, "May I ask what your name is?"  From there, he would ask if anyone had seen a man in a helmet, torso, arm, leg, and boot armor, and he described the appearance to them.
   So far his search had come up empty.
   "So you say you saw a man that looked suspicious walk into that club over there?"
   The old, fragile Twi'lek slowly thought over the details, then answered, "Why, yes, I saw it as clearly as I see you standing here now."
   Tyvon was unsure of whether to trust the old-one's advice or not, but it was the only lead he had gotten all night.
   Thanking the woman for her services, he made his way over to the club entrance.
   The club, which was called the Kinyen, as marked out by bright neon letters written in clean Aurebesh, the club-owner was an un-hospitable, and frankly big, Vurk who hailed from Sembla. 
   Before coming to Coruscant, he worked under the Senator Sweitt Concorkill, as a low level assistant, running useless errands that hardly earned him a credit an hour.  After tiring of that line of work, he began to make his way to the Republic's center through ships and transports.  Upon arriving, he ran into a Gran whose "dream" was to open a club, so they became business partners.
   That would explain the club name, Tyvon thought.
   He quickly walked up to the Zabrak bouncer.
   "Name," the bouncer blurted out.  It was hardly a question, more than emotionless blab.
   "Tyvon Roaf, but I'm no-".
   "Not on the list.  If you're not on the list, you're not getting in."  The sentient turned away to the next patron who stepped up to be admitted.
   "Hey, ladies.  Nice to see you again.  Go right in!"
   Tyvon quickly re-engaged the non-human, attempting to persuade him.  "I'm not on the list because I'm not a patron.  I-".
   "Obviously you're not a patron.  If you were, you'd be on the list."
   Roaf tired of being cut off by the insignificant obstacle, but he calmed himself, and said, "I am a Jedi Knight of the Jedi Order.  I demand entrance right away."
   The Zabrak looked him over, obviously a bit swayed from illegal drugs.
   "Oh, yeah, I can see it.  Nice light-sword, but I can't have weapons inside."  He raised his hand to a security desk that confiscated weapons until a customers department.
   Why is security so tight?!
   He detached the lightsaber from the link on his belt and placed it on the counter.
   In a nasal-like voice, the Rodian said, "Name?"
   "Tyvon Roaf."
   The Rodian replied in the same, irritating tone, "Please dispose of all your weapons into the slot tray."
   As the woman requested, he did so.  He practically had to dispose of everything in order to gain access past the security scanners.
   Leaving the comfort of his lightsaber behind, he quickly stepped into the club, somewhat eager to begin his search for the long-gone assailant.
   As soon as he stepped in, he smelt the intoxicating and disgusting aroma of smoke coming from all around the club.  In several places, he spotted drinks glowing in a variety of colors, in which he could not even begin to assess what had concocted each.
   He coughed and slowly began his visual search.  The being he had chased was sporting Green armor, with a white body-sleeve.  But the club was so dark that he could hardly even make out the bartenders that stood behind the bar.  In fact, the only illumination in the room were the strobe lights flickering all about.
   He began his descent down a set of stairs into the sea of half drunk, half high customers.  These so-called "customers" were dancing wildly to the beat of a famous Twi'lek tune that had overswept the crowd.
   Looking to his left, he saw a mix of humans and sentients, but nothing that seemed relatively special to the being he was looking for.  He gazed to his right, and found that he spotted someone looking vaguely similar.
   Walking over cautiously, he reached for his lightsaber, but to no avail, he found that he had it confiscated upon entering. 
   Tapping the new being on the shoulder, he quickly discovered that it was a drunk partier, who had dressed up in the most ridiculous outfit he could find for a "fun" night.
   Whoosh.  He felt something tremor on the back of his neck.  There was a disturbance in the Force.  Turning around, he spotted a running being making their way through the crowd.
   Feeling himself in the same, helpless position, he once again screamed, "Stop that man!"
   And once again, nobody attempted to even stop the acclaimed.  Why do I even bother?
   He darted after the man.  As he saw him exit the club, he pursued him.  The Force was with him, and although he didn't have his lightsaber for physical combat, the Force topped any ally in combat. 
   The man suddenly righted into an alley.  Picking up his speed, he entered into the alley.  But he couldn't spot the man, and he knew that there was no way he escaped that quick.  He walked cautiously through the mist-filled "tunnel".
   Reaching out with the force, he probed the deepest reaches of the dark chasm as the tune in the background faded with the slow closing of the door.
   “Come out, come out,” he called, to no avail.
   A slight tapping was heard to his left.  Turning quickly, he spotted a moving shadow in the mist of the fogginess.  He reached out with the force, and although he could not see anybody, the force allowed him a pathway around this.
   Behind you.  With this simple command, he turned around and was able to see the armored figure rushing at him again.  He made out the same symbol on the figure’s chest.
   Ducking under a blow aimed with a vibro-blade, he quickly swooped his leg under the opposing feet, knocking him to the ground.
   Standing back to his full height, he quickly aimed the heal of his boot for the warrior’s throat.
   Countering the would-be fatal blow, the man, with amazingly quick reflexes, flipped back to his feet, aiming a blaster for Tyvon’s head.
   Pfew.  Pfew, pfew.  The blaster discharged, and continued to do so, but the Jedi’s unnatural ability’s allowed him to barely dodge the purple bolts fired from the gun.
   On the offensive again, Tyvon decided to move in from the man’s left, the arm he didn’t have a gun in.  Running, he caught the man by surprise, in a way, and managed to take hold of his wrist.
   Discharging the hand piece a few more times, the warrior was frantically trying to dislodge the robed man’s grip.
   Tyvon wouldn’t budge.  He slammed the warrior’s hand against the wall, and immediately began to land blows on the man’s face, chest, and arms. 
   The blaster, now dislodged and on the ground, was the target of both men.
   Diving to the ground, the both tried to grab the gun, in an attempt to throw off the other man.  Grabbing the blaster, Tyvon fired, but missed.  The blaster was dislodged again.
   This time, the Green suited man went for it, grabbing it in his hand.  Tyvon, still recovering from a blow landed just a second ago, realized what had happened.  Aiming the gun at Tyvon, he pointed it.
   Tyvon closed his eyes, ready for death.  And then…
   there was.  But not his own.  Looking up, the warrior that was the most apparent threat a moment ago was replaced by another green object, but not a suit of armor topped off with a terrifying green helmet.  It was the familiar glow of a lightsaber:  the weapon of a Jedi, and the weapon of his padawan; Erinos. 
   The boy looked at the ground, in shock and trapped in his own mind.  He dropped the lightsaber, the blade extinguishing.
   Tyvon looked at him, judgment not even crossing his mind.
Federal Presidential Constitutional Republic of the United States of America
Outer Rim Territories, Mandalore Sector, Mandalore System, Mandalore

Offline UnitedStatesDemocrat

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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #16 on: November 23, 2010, 08:20:56 AM »
Sorry about it being "actual novel length", but it felt right to write one long story rather than a very short one.
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #17 on: November 23, 2010, 08:23:51 AM »
C H A P T E R   T H R E E




   “Exile,” someone yelled.  For the past hour, bystanders had been chanting this and others at the young Jedi, and now “murderer”.
   Daniel kept flashing back to that moment.  He acted on instinct, and in the blink of his eye, he went from innocent to guilty.
   Why am I on trial, when Master Roaf did the same?  The boy kept wondering, for his master did commit the same act. 
   Currently, he stood in a chamber just outside of the Jedi Council Room.  He peered down over the ledge of a balcony he was forced to lean on.  Blackness.  Just like the power I felt.
   The young Jedi didn’t really kill in hate, although there was a darkness that clouded over him after he struck.  He couldn’t help but wonder why for this, as well.
   The crowd that had gathered around him was one of shock and awe.  Everyone glanced at him, which was a scary situation for quite a young boy.
   An attendant shoved her way through the crowd.  Dressed in white, silk robes she walked with graceful reproach.
   “Erinos.  This way.”  Her voice was no exception to the propriety of the clothing she sported.
   He was led through a semi-tall archway, around 2 meters in height.  The walls were bare, and brown, with a tinge of tan, as were most of the customary walls in the temple.
   As the woman stepped to the side, and allowed Daniel to walk through, he noticed the individual masters whom had admitted him earlier.
   The door whooshed shut behind him, and then there was stunning silence.
   He looked around at the other masters, and they stared at him.  Roaf was over in the corner, staring at Daniel as well.
   “Padawan… Erinos,” Master Windu said, stressing the boy’s last name.
   Daniel took a minute to respond.  When he did, the words came out all muffled.  “Yes, sir.”
   “I hear you murdered a Vurk Refugee.  How do you plead.”
   Nervousness palsed through the boy.  He could feel his heartbeat in his head, and was sweating very highly.
   “Guilty, sir,” he said.
   Master Windu recorded something on the datapad in front of him.
   He waved a hand, and a small holoprojector rose from the floor.  It was circular, gray in some places, black in others.  When it completed its quick ejection, a blue image came to life.  The bounty hunter. 
   “What did you feel when you murdered this man, Padawan?”
   Daniel really couldn’t understand what he meant.  The only thing he felt was the darkness, but he knew he shouldn’t relay this to the Senior Member.
   “No…, nothing.”
   Master Windu must have sensed his lie, for he gave him another tilted glance, like earlier.
   “Are you sure?”
   “Yes.”
   Master Windu recorded something else onto his pad.
   “Well, young one, this was not a Vurk refugee.  He wasn’t even apart of their clan.”
   Daniel didn’t understand, but he felt an explanation would arise soon.
   Master Windu continued.  “He is…was a mercenary for the Baron of Zabrash.  We believe he was sent to kill you.”
   Daniel couldn’t believe his ears.  Why would anyone want to kill me?  The question that plagued his mind was on those around him.
   “We do not know why somebody would assassinate one as yourself, except for your remarkable midi-chlorian count.  We figure best not to get involved with the Zabrash government, for tensions are high with the band of refugees.”
   Daniel understood simply.  The council dismissed, leaving Roaf to come join Daniel.
   “Young Padawan, already you have saved my life, and for that I may never repay you, but I feel I should attempt.  I will do my best to train you in almost every aspect a Jedi needs to be prepared to face the trials.  How about a nice cup of Correlian tea, a rare blend I discovered while visiting Correlia?”
   Daniel nodded.  The two men walked towards the door.  The entrance whooshed open, the two figures walked out, leaving the door to shut on its own.
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #18 on: November 23, 2010, 08:24:25 AM »
The next chapter is where the Clone Wars begin!   :D
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #19 on: November 23, 2010, 12:29:39 PM »
nnniiiceeeee

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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #20 on: November 23, 2010, 12:50:03 PM »
Thank you.  I think I'm going to edit the other chapters, and post them, in the next few minutes.

Also, if this is waaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy  too long for you guys to read, I can post chapter summaries on here, as well.
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #21 on: November 23, 2010, 01:08:11 PM »
C H A P T E R   F O U R

Eight Years Into the Future, Mid 1st Year of the Clone Wars

   


   “Move, move, move!”  A clone sergeant nearby was barking orders at troops as they rushed towards awaiting gunships.  The sergeant kept pointing to different areas on the field, referencing different points to surrounding troopers
   Another trooper, sporting a helmet, overhead visor, and green designs on his armor, approached the crowd.  One trooper noticed.
   “Sir”, he saluted.  The trooper acknowledged him.
   With little encouragement involved, he easily made his way to the Sergeant.
   “Moss, report,” he muttered, his voice stern, that of a “no-nonsense” man.
   The other green armored man, phase one armor as well, minus the visor, saluted as well.
   “Commander, we have six AT-TEs awaiting your command to be dropped in from the ridge above.”  He pointed to a sandy ridge up above. 
   Come to think of it, this whole planet was covered in sand. 
   Reevus IV was a training ground for the Republic’s troops, but the seppies had brought the fight to their front door.   
   The sergeant continued.  “Jay, I don’t think this is going to be won.  Four of our gunships are downed, leaving us with two.  One hundred of our two hundred troops have been eliminated.  The gun batteries are depleting, and we don’t have enough ammunition to arm all of our men with at least one reload.”
   Jay considered his options, but still needed a bit more information.
   “Troop casualties?”  The Seps had to be down 3 for every one man they killed, and with a force of 1,000, they’d be close to 700 men right now.  Jay hoped his Sergeant’s answer was different.
   “Two-hundred droids advancing.  The rest are scrap metal.”
   200.  Very impressive.
   All of a sudden, a missile zoomed in from the left and exploded, blowing up a tank and a few men.
   Jay and the surrounding men hit the deck, avoiding any shrapnel that may pierce through their exposed heads.
   Jay returned to his feet.  The sight was completely different from when he hit the ground.  Smoke was pouring from the ground, and clone plates,  along with metal, were lying on the ground, with a giant black “hole” in the spot were the walker was.
   Without so much as giving a second thought, he relayed his inner comms to Ridgetop Station.
   “I want Velvet down here now!”
   There was static on the other end, and then a brother’s voice came on the line.  “Sir, yes, sir!”
   In a few seconds, twenty gunships flew over head in an air show, heading straight for the advancing droid forces.  One gunship veered off, and came to land in front of the field command post.
   A kid got out, in his early teens.  Thirteen, a bit older than Jay himself.  The boy walked towards Jay.  With a deep voice, he greeted, “Commander”.
   The clone replied.  “General Erinos.  Now I’m relieved.”
   Jay removed his helmet, revealing a face the same as every other clone.  But it was also different for every clone was different, in one way or another.
   “I heard you were having some trouble.  Anything I can help with?”
   Jay didn’t want to take advantage of his C.O., but he couldn’t refuse a direct order.
   “I ordered Velvet to take forces ahead.  There are men dying quick on the frontlines.  Taking care of the tinnies is help enough, if you would, sir.”
   “Call your troops in sectors one and three back.  I’ve got a plan.”
   The boy ran off towards battle, pulling out his lightsaber and igniting it.
   From Jay’s position, even as his General disappeared, the blade was still visible.


__________


   “Move!”  The familiar sound of a yelling clone lieutenant slipped through the sound receptor in Captain Blimey’s helmet.  He didn’t necessarily like troopers yelling at other brothers, but they were the only chain of command off the battlefield.
   The gunship was prepared to take off.  The lieutenant gave Blimey the okay signal.  He waved his hand in return.
   “All soldiers, dispatch to Reevus IV in t-minus 5 minutes.  That is all.”  The machine that had just taken over the loud speaker had the voice projector of a Protocol Droid.
   Blimey put the thought of droids aside as his datapad beeped.  He opened it up.  A fleet admiral appeared, surrounded by Captains and Lieutenants in similar uniforms.  His face appeared urgent.
   “Yes, Admiral,” Blimey repeated into his datapad.
   The man gulped, then pressed out, “Is the 500th ready to go?”
   The 500th, Blimey thought.  The full name of his legion was the 500th Reinforcement Ops Corps, but that was just a technicality. 
   “Sir, yes, sir!  0500 hours, but we’re beginning our ascent towards Reevus, sir.”  Blimey slightly exhaled from speaking.
   The admiral’s nervous look was now stern, experienced.  Jay could see a bead of sweat drip down his temple to his chin.
   “Good.  Here’s your brief, Captain:  You are to assist the men of the 419th.  When you set down on Reevus, your assignment is to make it to RV Alpha, indicated on your map, and aid the 419th.  Am I going to fast for you?
   Yes.  “No, sir.”  He continued to take mental notes, and directly absorb them into his mind.
   “Good.  Now, you have to eliminate a task force of two hundred droids closing in.  Velvet Squad will be assisting you with tactical air strikes, so be careful not to get too close to their line of fire.”
   Oh great, bombardment.  Blimey replaced the helmet as quickly as he had put it on.  At least it’s Velvet doing the fly-by’s.  “CO 500 out.”
   He replaced the comm to his belt, making sure it was attached.  He learned the hard way what happened when you didn’t attach the com-link properly.  He lost a few good men that day…
   Quickly returning his head to the field, he called the lieutenant who was viciously shouting orders over.
   The man seemed stubborn to obey, but marched over, and saluted his superior.  “Sir?”, he inquired.
   “Lieutenant, who is the Captain of this squad?”
   The man distinctly knew he was “in trouble”.  He replied, “You, sir.”
   Blimey didn’t want the man to form a bad opinion about him, so he quickly straightened out his point.
   “I will handle the work effort of these men.  Take some R and R time on the shuttle, Lieutenant.”
   He seemed relieved not to be referred. 
   He was about to turn away when Blimey asked, “What is your name?”
   The clone turned around fully, regaining his posture.  He removed his helmet, and the Captain followed his example.
   “CT-4137; Clank.”
   Blimey carefully considered his response.  Taking the formal approach, but not too formal, for he was a CO, “Welcome to the 500th way of life, Lieutenant Clank.”
   The new-found side of the trooper seemed refreshed.  He smiled at Blimey, then saluted, and left.
   Blimey once again replaced his helmet.
   I’ve got a lot to teach these men.
   The legion had only been formed for three weeks, bringing together men of lost squads and low performance efficiencies to “up” them.  Blimey was Commander, although HQ decided he not be promoted, for he was not ready for that kind of rank.  Not after Ralvine.  He tried not to ponder the men he’d lost there.  The former Commander of the Legion, Commander Flare, was MIA.  His body was never found, so Blimey was ranked up to Captain, and the former captain, Sparky, was bumped up to Legion Commander.  Nobody bothered to check Ralvine, for the creatures of the night would find the body, and ravage it.
   Blimey stepped aboard the gunship, right next to the Lieutenant that he had just scolded.  He immediately inserted a cartridge into his weapon, loaded it, and grunted silently. 
   The ships were beginning to descend into the atmosphere of Reevus IV, but the smell was naucious.  Dusty.  Very dusty.  It reminded him of Geonosis in so many ways, discluding color.  Although he couldn’t see outside, the Captain had a pretty good feeling about what it actually looked like.  Large dunes, no sources of vegetation or water, sand…
   The descent became steeper and his men began to grab onto the overhead rail.  As speed picked up, he could feel his insides shift.  He groaned.
   Then, in the blink of an eye, the doors opened, and outside was hell.  Droids everywhere he looked, a scarce clone every now and again.  In the distance he saw a green glow, their general. 
   “Move, move, move!”  Quickly, soldiers began to pour from the ships, returning fire back into the field of red bolts. 
   He patted the men on the back, even helped some of them down.  Then he took his turn, jumped down from the gunship, yelled back, “Roll out!”, to the pilot.
   Quickly, Blimey rolled to avoid a shot from point-blank, then ran to join a small gathering of troopers.
   “Where’s the General?”  Some men didn’t hear him, as they were too concentrated on firing at the droids.  Clank was one of the men who didn’t hear. 
   But one troop turned to him, replied, “He’s up ahead trying to break the enemy frontlines, sir.  I believe he’s in sector 2, leading a small squad.”
   Blimey nodded his thanks, the trooper acknowledging, then ran into open fire, blasting a droid to the right, rolling to the left.  He landed on his feet, kicked a droid to the ground, and shot two others.
   Blimey turned his head slightly to find the General’s position.  Quickly locating him about fifty meters away, the trooper decided to run straight for him.
   Immediately, he discovered what poor decision he had made.  It took every ounce of energy in his body to dodge bullets, shoot droids, and even climb over a pile of scrap metal.
   Then, suddenly, an explosion to his left caused him to hit the deck.  Everything came to the captain in a blurry, bright light.  When he looked up, he realized it wasn’t his body’s reaction to the explosion, but a shield that encompassed his body.  When the explosion ceased, he was let down.  Then, he passed out…

   Blimey awoke in the back of a gunship.  It was still on the ground, for he couldn’t feel the vibrations of the engines.  In the corner of his mind, he heard voices, speaking ever so slightly.
   “…by a clone whose mission was triumphant beyond imagination.  He deserves a medal.  He deserves promotion, but what he deserves most is a decent canister of bacta.”
   “Yes, sir.”
   Blimey could see that the one man was a brother.  When the clone approached with some more bacta, he laid his head down and prepped for treatment.
   “Hold still, sir.  Your burns are pretty serious, would be fatal if you hadn’t been shielded by the general.  I was in a sit…”
   Blimey interrupted.  “The general?  May I speak to him?”
   The clone raised his head as if he were counting, then replied, “Certainly, but not right now.”
   Blimey completely relaxed now, and allowed himself to notice only the smallest things.  He could now feel the engines.
   It was going to be a long trip home.
   
_______

   General Erinos, as he was now officially known, was becoming aggravated at the lack of respect for casualties in the report and more at the number of survivors.
   They don’t care what they lose, as long as it isn’t the war.
   He continued to fill out the protocol forms, as well as some standard and honored award forms.  To choose a trooper for this sort of thing felt as if you could do one a justice, but every other one an injustice.  Although, in this case, he had the perfect man in mind: Captain Blimey of the 500th.
   Daniel quickly filled out the credentials of the Captain, copying down key information from an information terminal on his desk.
   When the General finished this task, he stacked the forms together, knowing he would be doing another great deed.
   In a semi-exhausted state, a trooper rushed in, sporting the colors of the 419th, and saluted.
   “Yes, what is it trooper?”
   “Sir, this was supposed to be delivered hours ago, but it only just reached our department.”
   The trooper handed the envelope to Daniel, and he tore into it with enthusiasm, eager to learn what it might hold.

General Erinos
419th Legion Supervising General

By order of the office of the Chancellor, General Daniel Erinos is to take permanent command of the 500th Reinforcement Ops Corps, in the hope that the loss of their C.O. will be forgotten, and that they may welcome a new leader to their ranks.

Mas Amedda,
Aide to the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic

The trooper, who had been reading over his soldier, said, “ I look forward to welcoming our newly bonded brothers, sir.”
   The trooper was about to scurry off when Daniel, stopped him.
   “Trooper, could you possibly deliver these reports to the ship’s Supervisor of the War Department?”
   The trooper turned around.  “With honor, General.”  He reached for the forms, received them, and then walked out, leaving the general to attend to his new-found responsibilities.
   The first was to attend to the trooper award ceremonies.


_________



   Commander Jay paced the corridors of the ship, passing by droids, officers, other troopers, and the occasional Jedi.  His job was to arrive at the celebration, the honoring of Captain Blimey.  If this Captain is half the soldier his predecessor was, no one on board should miss the ceremony. 
   Jay thought back to his training as a youngling on Kamino.  He was in the same unit as Flare, Eagle Squadron.  He remembered the day Flare saved him from a shot to the head:

The young clone saw nothing around him but smoke.  He could hear screams of pain as the others he had grown up with were being massacred.  But this was only training.  And yet, it seemed as though nothing could get much worse.  He remembered flanking some of the assault ships, attaching det-packs and hauling others out of the range of the explosion.  On his third trip back into the enemy lines, he tripped, fell into a trench, and alerted a nearby destroyer droid of his presence.  He looked for his weapon, but could not find it, and heard the discharge of the droid’s blaster.  It missed him by an inch.  Then, in the next second, another discharge was heard, but it was the sound of a clone rifle.  A young man was standing their, blaster in one hand, and an outstretched hand of help.  He took it, and from that day, he had grown to honor Flare with the utmost respect. 

   Such a shame to lose a Commander like Flare.  Jay continued walking.
   As was protocol, he had to sport robes instead of armor, and felt naked without the tight clench of the black bodysuit.
   When he entered the ceremonial hall, it was practically empty.  This was for the fact that the processions didn’t begin for a half an hour.
   Jay walked down to the front, sat in the seat designated to him, and simply waited inattentively.
   From behind, he was tapped by Moss, who proceeded to sit beside him.
   “Evening, Commander.” 
   Jay returned the graciousness.  The two now sat as respective individuals, in fancy clothing meant for dignitaries not troopers.  There was the occasional chatting between others, but Jay and Moss were connected.  Moss was another member of Eagle Squadron.
   The two would occasionally touch on the old days, but the main topics of discussion were the current war, and their generals.
   The commander enjoyed the chat, for a chance to speak freely was seldom.
   After a few more different topics, such as blaster penetrability, armor strength, possible corrupt senators, the Chancellor’s recent decisions, the pleasantries were ready to commence. 
   General Erinos took the stage.  “Good evening.  Tonight, we are here to recognize the major accomplishments of one of our most prestigious officers.”
   Jay admired the way his general spoke.  The words flowed from his mouth as though the highly advanced vocabulary was simple knowledge to most.  Erinos continued.
   “This accomplishment, as many, occurred on the field of battle.  The only one of his unit to survive…”
   The piece of knowledge just noted had not reached Jay.  It was highly, highly surprising.
   “… we must recognize him, for if we don’t respect the life of a clone, that is as if we don’t care for the life of one of our citizens.”
   The general took a second to look down at the words recorded on his page, then continued.
   “Now, it is with great respect, and most of all honor, that I may present to you the hero of the hour, Captain Blimey.”
   Applause filled the room, flooding in from every direction.  The trooper came onto the stage, and Jay noted as every head in the room turned towards him.  A slight, “happy” clench in his stomach made him feel proud, for he knew that people finally knew clones were people and not replaceables.
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Offline UnitedStatesDemocrat

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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #22 on: November 23, 2010, 01:09:03 PM »
Blimey took his position next to Erinos.  The two were about the same size, although Blimey was a bit younger.
   A man came out, in his hands a case of soft material.  He opened a flap up, revealing a medal.
   “Now, we present the Medal of Recognition to Captain Blimey of the 500th Reinforcement Ops Corps.  May his outstanding service continue, and may others like him emerge.”
   The medal was removed from its case and placed around the Captain’s neck.
   The general stepped to the podium, ready to speak again.  The applause that had proceeded at the placement of the medal ceased.  “With this medal, under the authority of the office of the Supreme Chancellor himself, I promote you to High Captain.  May your days in the 500th be ones of pleasure to you.”
   The thunderous clapping again proceeded, as many rose to their feet.  Blimey, being a man of discipline, did not show a smile.  But with a little humorous encouragement from his superior next to him, he shed his lips and let his pride show.
   Jay felt his brother’s happiness, and therefore, Jay smiled too.
   Nobody really began to dismiss, until they were sure that General Erinos had completed his speech.  Then, the “stampede” for the doors began.
   Jay stayed down at the front, although Moss left.  He began to walk towards the stage. 
   Stepping up, he waltzed his way over to the honoree.
   “Congratulations, brother.  High Captain?  Might as well be Commander.”
   The two laughed.
   “Thank you, sir.”
   Daniel approached from the side.  He spoke.  “Commander, your service today was splendid.  You too should receive a medal.  Believe me, your day will come.”
   “Thank you, sir.  I do believe we have a new colleague, and a new hero to honor, however.”
   The young man looked at the two, back and forth.
   “You two have been soldiers who are irreplaceable.  For that, I thank you highly.  If it weren’t for such men as you, we’d be known as the Galactic Confederacy.”
   Jay was surprised at the general’s show of emotions, as he was sure Blimey was, but the praise was boosting.
   “Permission to be dismissed, sir?  I have other duties that need to be attended to.”
   “Certainly, Jay.”
   As Jay walked off, Blimey and Erinos chatted again.  Jay noticed the procession that had filled the exits was now gone.
   Jay wandered to his quarters, weary of what the next day might bring.





_________



   General Erinos, vaguely desiring a trip to his bed, fought off tiredness as he paced for the quarters of his former Master, Tyvon Roaf.  He’d not seen the man in six months, but he knew that their bond of master and apprentice would still be as strong as it had.
   Daniel passed by a few younglings, and two masters overseeing them.  He nodded his greetings and continued to walk.
   As the boy continued towards his destination, his mind flooded with thoughts of older times, lessons he thought he’d forgotten.  But he had not, for Master Roaf was sure to wedge them down deep enough that he would always remember them.
   About fifty feet from the gold arched doorway, which was unusual on a cruiser, he sensed his former master’s presence.  It was a strong feeling that overtook him.
   Slowly continuing, he tried not to interrupt this part of the hall.  It was quiet, and even the rustling of his cloak stood out.
   Daniel reached the door.  He knocked.  After a second of waiting, the door was opened by a droid.  His master’s droid,  A-5YQ, whom Daniel had spent most of his childhood playing with, greeted.
   “Danny, come right in.”  The droid made a stiff motion to enter.
   “5YQ, how’s it been.  Still holding together?”
   The droid motioned to an opening in his forearm, and said, “Not as well as I used to, but I’m holding together.”
   “Good to hear, buddy.”  Erinos returned to his main course of action.  “Is Master Roaf in?”
   “Most certainly, sir.  One moment.”  The droid left the current room to a back room, obviously Master Roaf’s private quarters.
   While he was waiting, Daniel perceived everything he could in the room, ranging from the ornaments on the shelves of the room, to the bare room itself. 
   He heard a walking in the back room, and the door opened, revealing the form of his Master.  It was still the same form as when he’d first met him.  The hair was a bit darker, and the effects of aging had started to show, although not immensely.
   “What can I do for you, Daniel?”
   He didn’t want to seem swift in his movements, so he said, “Just thought I’d stop by.  I have some forms that I need to be signed by a Senior Member of the Jedi Order, and figured you’d be my best options.  How’s the war been treating you, anyway?”
   His former master moved towards a couch, inviting Daniel to join.
   “I’ve been well.  The new found rank and seniority, especially when I’m only in my twenties, is awing.  You must have the same feeling.  What have you been up to?”
   Daniel sighed.  “War-stuff.”  Both men laughed, enjoying the good humored that filled the room.
   “Well, I’ve been leading battle-campaigns on the frontlines, as well as hosting new battalions.  Two new ones so far.”
   His master smiled, glad to see his apprentice was still okay.
   “Well, my friend, what forms do you have for me?”
   Daniel took a moment to remove the forms from his cloak, straightening out a slight fold that had taken place in the corner.  “These rudimentary forms from the Department of War to authorize my full takeover of the 500th Reinforcement Ops Corps.  By protocol, I am to receive the authorization of a senior Jedi Master so that these will be “well overseen”.
   Daniel handed the papers to Master Roaf.  5YQ handed a writing instrument to its master, and he quickly scribbled his initials in their proper slots.  After a few page flips, the forms were re-exchanged.
   Although Daniel’s status quo was fulfilled, he decided to stay with his Master.  He could notice a slight weariness in his Master’s tuning, as if he were very busy.
   “Is it fair to assume you have more important matters to attend to, my friend.  We all do in these troubling times.”
   He felt a sudden relief, and his friend replied, “Certainly, Daniel, certainly.  I must request to see you again when we’re back at the Jedi Temple.”
   “I will be certain to check into it, my friend.  Tell 5YQ to take it easy.  I’ll have to fix him up…again.”  The two enjoyed another filling laugh.
   Daniel exited the room, proceeding to his quarters.  Throughout the ship, he noted many, many heroes   whose deeds had been all but forgotten.  Many of these heroes were clones, a few Jedi, even a few ship crewman, but one thing was certain:  when many heroes were present, nobody really took time to appreciate a single hero.  But, this general had sorted out who was a hero, and to him that was everybody, for everybody sacrificed their lives for the sake of the Republic.  Everybody.
   Daniel reached his room.  Snaking out of his Jedi robes, he crawled into bed, and let sleep flood his body.

   The next day, he was up and about in the early morning, dressed and ready for a new day.  He quickly exited the ship onto the duracrete of Coruscant.  Early this morning, the ship had docked, but hadn’t woken its inhabitants.
   Daniel stopped.  He inhaled the full effect of the planet.  Everything ranging from the burned fuel of the speeders rushing by, to the smoke billowing from nearby pipes and exhaust vents.  It was home to him, and had been for nearly eight years.
   He took a few more steps, and continued on the path to the Jedi Temple, weary to gain his next assignment, but also full of anticipation.
   The morning sun was beautiful.  Not as beautiful as the sunset, but it still had a beauty about it to which no other compared.  He savored the opportunity to view the sun once more.
   Turning around, he headed for the spire blooming building, and he even felt eager to reach it, for the simple fact that some of his comrades would be returning from duty, as well.
   Luckily, however, an air taxi arrived at his side, and had offered him a lift, making his journey a lot easier and a lot quicker. 
   Arriving at the temple, he paid the man his credits and let him go to business elsewhere.
   Daniel turned around with his small bag of clothing, and looked up at the immense structure that was the Jedi Temple once more.
   Without any more thought to architecture, he entered the building, ready for an assignment.

   After he had dropped his belongings off at his quarters, he proceeded to the main war planning room. 
   Pressing a pad on the door, it opened, allowing him to enter.  He stepped inside, and felt a slight coolness.
   There was one clone scattering about, but Jedi worked the consoles, as well as filled out reports and forms.  In the center, a blue holochart flickered, relaying many details, such as troops available, legion dispatch, and missions requiring assistance.
   Daniel walked down stairs to the center, approaching the main console.  He studied the chart that included information about missions being prepped.
   One to the Space Station at Reecee.  Might be worth my while.
   He selected the mission.
   Mission requirements:  need a squad of one hundred men to well equip the station, and a capable Jedi General.  Seems like a job fit for myself.
   He signed up for the mission.  After entering his credentials, an affirmative beep confirmed his mission selection, and he quickly received the data for the mission, storing it in his datapad.
   He looked down at the screen.  The mission was set to leave tonight.  Legion selection, the 419th.
   Daniel quickly rushed to his quarters again.  He was glad he hadn’t unpacked yet…
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Offline UnitedStatesDemocrat

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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #23 on: November 23, 2010, 01:12:09 PM »
Any comments as of yet?  Positive or negative feedback is always accepted, as I would love to hear about how I could improve my writing!
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #24 on: November 23, 2010, 03:46:58 PM »
great. :)
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Re: USD's Writing
« Reply #25 on: November 24, 2010, 11:53:28 AM »
SWEET!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!