The Casualties

My comments after the story.

Darth Maul raised his glass of Mad Mrelf to his lips and gave it a slow, thoughtful drink.”I still don’t get it,” he said, “It would have been amazing!  You could have destroyed entire cities as me!  You could’ve murdered anyone you want!  It would have been so much fun!  And think of the graphics!”
“You’re preaching to the choir, buddy.”  Boba Fett was no stranger to this situation; everybody loves you, they talk about giving you your own game, and as soon as it starts shaping up  into something amazing, it all falls out from under you.  Boba Fett grabbed for his half-finished Cometduster and paused.  He thought about the situation for a moment and then turned to face Darth Maul.
“You had a pretty good situation going.  Everybody thought you were the best thing about Episode One and you even got stories made about you after your death.  So what if your game didn’t get made?  At least yours was because of “quality issues” and “disagreements”.  At least your situation had a reasonable cause.  That damn mouse buys Lucasarts and the next thing I know, the best looking game from them in years is shut down with no real rhyme or reason.  You want to get mad about your game?  Your game wasn’t even on tap to be as big a seller as Grand Theft Auto.”
“Both of you can go to Hell!” A visibly drunk Kyle Katarn shouted from just a few seats away.  He reeked of Garrmorl and his fingers were covered in bits of cracknel.  By the pale color of his skin, Boba Fett wondered just how long Kyle had been sitting in here and if he ever bothered to get out the bar at all.  “You movie stars like to sit aroun an’ piss an’ moan just cause one little game got cancelled?!  Well let me tell you somethin!”  Although he was shouting,  Kyle felt the need to stumble closer to the two men as if they couldn’t hear him in the first place.  He leaned in far too close to Darth Maul’s face and put his hands on the bar right next to him.  Kyle was dangerously close to taking a lightsaber to the gut, but Maul decided to let it go.  He’ll be stuck here for the rest of his life anyways, thought Maul.  Kyle continued his rant.  “You movie star types are all the same!  Us real people ain’t got nothin’ left!  Lucasarts told me I was the next big thing!  They told me they’d build a whole damn franchise aroun’ me!  Soooo IIII jus’ been sittin’ here since the nineties.  The NINETEEN DAMN NINETIES!  An’ I kept waitin’ fer them to do somethin’ with me, but then those new damn movies come out an’ suddenly they’d rather make twenty crappy games then another one with me innit!”
Kyle looked like he was about to get into the crying and gushing part of his rant when all three men were distracted by a woman who walked their way from across the bar.  She was beautiful and tall, had her striking red hair pulled tight behind her, and wore a tight, strapless black dress that accentuated every curve on her perfectly formed body.  Only Boba Fett was sober enough to catch the fact that she had a lightsaber at her side that looked brand new.  “Excuse me gentlemen,” she interrupted, “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation and I was wondering if we could play a quick game?  It’s related to what you were talking about,”  The men nodded.  “Good.  Here’s the game.  It’s called ‘do any of you know my name?’  If you win, I’ll buy everyone’s drinks for the night.”  All three men sat there dumbfounded, staring between each other.  The silence went on for almost a minute before Darth Maul, knowing he was wrong but willing to try it anyways, meekly said “Mara Jade?”
“No, I’m not Mara Jade!  And you should know that!” she said angrily, pointing a finger at a now-ashamed Kyle.  Boba Fett finally owned up; “To be honest, Ma’am, none of us know who you are.”  “I’m Naresha!  And the reason you don’t know me is because of World of Warcraft!  I was all set to be the star of Knights Of The Old Republic 3, but then World of Warcraft made so much stupid money that the greedy-ass executives at Lucasarts decided they wanted the same thing, so here I am watching idiots play The Old Republic when I know my game could’ve been better than Mass Effect!  And it would’ve had a real ending too!”
The conversation could have continued indefinitely, but it was interrupted by a commotion outside the front door. “Shit, here come the bookers,” Boba Fett said, raising his voice so the group could hear him over the noise. Admiral Thrawn, Nom Anor, and ten other Yuuzhan Vong came piling through the door.  Some walked, some stumbled, and some crawled, but all were drunk to the point of liver disease; if they even had livers.  Admiral Thrawn and Nom Amor seemed to hold themselves much better, but it was clear that they too had drank enough to kill a brezak.  These men were determined to enjoy what little life they had left.
Thrawn put his arm around Anor and shouted to the group, “ONE MORE TIME!”  The group immediately broke into the chorus of “It’s a Small World After All”, singing with their harsh, deep voices that made it sound more like a sea shanty than a children’s song.  As the group sang, Admiral Thrawn turned to the other patrons of the bar, stood perfectly straight, saluted, and said “It’s been an honor serving you all!”  Then, just as quickly as they had entered, the group disappeared as if wiped from existence.
Boba Fett looked around the bar.  “Why’s everyone staring at the door?  Did something just happen?”  “I don’t know,” Darth Maul replied, “I feel a disturbance in the force, like a great and sudden loss.”  “Oh well,” Kyle butted in, seemingly somewhat more sober and happier than he was moments ago, “so much for whatever was in the past.  Here’s to the future!”  “To the future!” they all replied in unison.

This story goes out to all the casualties of the acquisition.  Bookers are characters that appeared in the comics and novels only.  I’m not a huge Star Wars fan, but I loved Lucasarts games of the eighties and nineties.  I also appreciated the fact that they kept one consistent (although a bit confusing) universe.  It’s kind of sad that they’re going to ruin that to make the new movies, but it’s also makes sense from a storytelling standpoint.

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Burned meat and the Force

With this writing, I wanted to experiment with the Point of View (POV) of multiple characters in a short amount of time. If this is confusing, please let me know. I am working with adding this type of POV with RATHEN to make it more interesting. it is longer than I had planned so I combined the entry with the Adventures of Evets! Let me know what you think.
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Subject: Star Wars
Setting: any
Time period: any
Length: 500 words
Restrictions: none

Stepping out of his ship, Jarvis could sense the Sith close by. The dark powers of the force felt twisted and evil. He had seen the small imperial shuttle as he landed his one-man cruiser. There was no reason to hide, the Sith could no doubt sense him as well. He felt an urgency to complete his mission and depart this planet. He made his way through the dense forest. Aside from the over-sized wildlife, there seemed to be no dangers. Because of its distance and lack of desirable resources, the Empire had not yet colonized it.

Jarvis used his lightsaber to cut through the thick brush. Its blue light provided more light to see ahead of him. Soon he could sense his target. He had been a Jedi for many years but felt he needed more to help find his path in the force. Something in his training felt lacking. He had given up his family and distanced himself from relationships. There had been no love and no heirs to carry on his legacy. He spent many years erasing all emotions that could lead him to the Dark Side. There is no emotion, there is peace. Finally, Jarvis saw the hut of the man he had come to find.

. . .

Malvic stepped off of his shuttle, immediately pulling his lightsaber. He could sense the Jedi in the area and felt anxious to test his prowess by defeating him. The lightsaber’s red light and its humming sound fueled his desire for battle. His goal was to gain power by visiting a Sith Lord on this planet. His skills have been tested many times on the battlefield, but he craved more. He held his head in confidence. Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Malvic furiously cut through the brush toward where the Sith Lord was rumored to live. He cut down a few woodland creatures that happened to wander within striking range. Their lives were meaningless to him. His was the only interest he held in his mind. If this Sith Lord could not provide him with means of becoming more powerful, he will be cut down as he had recently done with his own master. Malvic came to a clearing with a small hut. Suddenly, the Jedi came through the brush from the other side. Malvic gripped his lightsaber tightly. Letting out a growl, he charged.

The Jedi saw the Malvic and rushed him. The two men clashed together in the middle of the clearing, cutting and slicing at each other with fury.

. . .

Evets Relhots sat back in his chair half asleep. His long scraggy beard matched the gray clothing he wore. It was midday and he had been up over 3 hours already. He was tired. The hot weather outside made it a chore to even breathe.

A loud pop sound came from the front room, waking Evets. He jumped to his feet and ran into the kitchen. An overheated pan over the stove popped from the extreme heat. Evets had forgotten he had turned the fire on earlier for cooking. He pulled the pan away from the heat. The hot handle burned his finger causing him to fling the pan across the table next to him. The pan began to burn a bag on the table threatening to catch it on fire. With a few curses, Evets got the pan back on the stove and placed some chicken on it. The meat crackled.

A commotion from outside caught his attention. He walked to the window and peered out from behind the dusty drapes. Two men fought outside, one with dark robes wielding a red lightsaber and one in white robes with a blue lightsaber. What do they think they are doing?

“Hey you two, get off my yard! You’re hurting the grass!” Evets yelled out his window. He chose to live on this backwater planet to escape from everyone. He wanted to be left alone. The two men continued their battle.

Evets’s temper flared. His face flushed. Opening his front door, he stormed out. He yelled at the two calling them every name that came to his mind. After two to three consecutive names, Evets launched into a coughing fit. Recovering, he continued his verbal assault on the duo.

Finally the two saw Evets and stopped their attack on each other. With the lightsabers still out, they turned to Evets with a confused look on their faces.

Jarvis stepped forward. “Are you the Jedi Master, Relhots? I have come a great distance seeking your wisdom”

Not again. Evets gave up teaching decades ago. He no longer had the patience for it. “No! Now go away!” Evets yelled.

Malvic approached Evets with his lightsaber at the ready. “I was told Darth Evets lived here. An ancient Sith Lord of great power,” Malvic said with fire in his eyes.

Evets shook his head furiously holding one hand in the air. “No! No! No Sith here. Be off with the both of you!”

The fire in Malvic’s eyes blazed. He held his lightsaber high and charged Evets with a blood curdling scream.

Evets stood his ground. Just before Malvic reached him, he reached from under his gray shirt and pulled his lightsaber. It hummed with power and glowed a pale white light. Evets blocked each strike from the Sith with ease.

The Jedi looked on wide-eyed as Evets danced from side to side with superhuman agility.

Evets let the Sith wear himself out. He had no interest in taking the man’s life. He would have to dig a grave to put the body in or it would smell up the area. And that could take all day. No, he’d better to let the Sith get tired and leave so he could go back inside to enjoy his chicken and coffee.

The Sith stopped his attack. He powered down his lightsaber and placed his hands on his knees leaning forward. “Darth Evets, it is you,” he said between gasps for air.

Evets powered down his lightsaber and placed it back under his shirt. Evets turned toward his house once again. He was finished here.

Jarvis rushed forward kneeling in front of Evets. “Master Relhots, I seek your training!”

Evets turned, stroking his gray beard. “My training? Well, if it will get you boys to leave, I guess I can say a few words.”

Jarvis and Malvic kneeled beside each other focused on Evets. Both now seemingly accepting of each other.

Evets rocked back and forth on his feet looking up in the sky. “Well, where to start.”

Jarvis spoke up, “There is no emotion, there is peace.”

The Sith sneered.

“Nope!” Evets shouted, looking at the Jedi. “Where was that peace when you were causing such a commotion in my yard?”

“I…I had to,” Jarvis replied

“Didn’t you want to kill this Sith? Didn’t you desire to show how much stronger you were over him?”

“I…I…” Jarvis started.

“If you had no passion in your fighting, how could you ever improve? If there is peace, why do you train so hard to fight?” Evets said.

Jarvis silently hung his head.

Malvic held his head proudly and said, “Peace is a lie, there is only passion.”

“Nope, nope!” Evets snapped back. “While passion feeds your ambition and desire, you can’t always be so emotional. You’re worse than all three of my wives put together. Talk about moody.”

“But through passion, I gain strength.” Malvic spoke.

“Yes, but without the balance of peace, your strength is uncontrollable. Uncontrollable strength is worse than no strength at all,” Evets said.

“I don’t understand. I have followed the Light Side my entire life, forsaking everything else in my life,” Jarvis spoke.

Evets eyed the Jedi for a few seconds. “Are you happy, son?”

Jarvis looked up, “We Jedi are the protectors of the worlds.”

Evets let out a laughter that ended with a fit of coughing. “How can you protect with only peace? Peace never comes from those sitting still. Often angry people need to be beaten down to maintain peace for others. What of your family? Your young ins?”

“I have none,” Jarvis said with reddened eyes.

“Bah, see!” Evets said, shifting on his feet. “You take out all the emotions in your life, you are no better than this Sith.”

“Hey,” Malvic said from his kneeling position.

“Then tell me, Sith,” Evets asked pointing his finger at Malvic. “What do you do when you become more powerful?”

“I’d search for more power,” Malvic replied.

“To what end?” Evets asked. “Until your death? What a sad life that would be.”

“But the power of the Dark Side–” Malvic started.

“Bah, Light Side, Dark Side… this ain’t no teenage drama, ya know!” Evets said. “Within each of us lives both good and bad, we balance it and live the life we chose. The Force was not meant to be focused into one extreme or the other. Like the universe, it’s all about balance. Jedi, you go back and start a family. Fight when you want and stay peaceful when you feel like it.”

Jarvis looked up and gave a nod.

Evets turned to Malvic. “Sith you are already strong. I saw that myself. You’ve got skill, son. Now go find a hobby or something to enjoy life a bit more.”

Malvic nodded.

Smoke filled Evets’s nostrils. He turned to see smoke pouring out of his window. “My chicken!” Evets ran back into his house tossing the burning meat from the stove. “Ah, what a mess.” Evets cleaned up what he could and threw the pan in the corner where several other charred pans rested. Placing a new pan over the stove he tossed on a new piece of chicken.

A knock came from the front door. Evets turned to see Jarvis and Malvic standing there.

“Master Relhots, if we could share just a bit more of your time we will leave you alone,” Jarvis spoke.

“Just an hour or so,” Malvic said.

“Well, I see no harm in that. Mind your shoes. Let me throw on two more pieces of chicken for you boys,” Evets replied. An hour was a long time to have visitors for Evets, but he was willing to entertain them for a bit.

. . .

An hour later, both Jarvis and Malvic left Evets’s house satified with their talks. Evets went to the window and watched them walk away. He smiled as they both searched for the passage they had cut to get here. Neither of them knew this planet’s vegetation grew back up behind you so quickly. Both men used their lightsabers to cut their way back to their ships. Evets smiled and nodded as he saw the pale white light from both of their lightsabers.

Now, time for a nap.

May Writing Challenge

May Writing Challenge

Subject:  Star Wars
Setting: any
Time period:  any
Length:  500 words
Restrictions:  none
Due: May 31st or before

May the 4th is Star Wars day.  Write anything about Star Wars. Have fun with this one and let your inner nerd shine. ; )

read-twilight-i-will-not

In the dead of night

Rathen and Bulo camp out after their first day of travel. The nightmares continue of the foul creature haunting his mind. I tried to create it as eerie as possible. In the end, I thought there was a better way to introduce this into the story. I cut it out but still like this scene.

Rathen awoke to the sound of movement. He remained motionless and slowly reached for his sword. Grasping the handle and getting a firm grip, he carefully opened his eyes so as not to give away the fact that he was awake. The firelight was dim and the flames danced wildly about casting shadows that appeared almost as ghosts in the night. The air was cold against his exposed skin, very cold.

The sound came again close to his feet in the direction of the fire. In the corner of his eye, a shape came into view. A head, a large head. His first thought was that they were being robbed by orcs or even an ogre. The light flicked across the face enough to illuminate the outline and the hairline. It was Bulo! Why was he crawling so close to the ground?

“Bulo, what is it?” Rathen asked in a whispered voice. “Are we under attack?”

There was no answer as Bulo inched closer to Rathen. He thought Bulo was working on getting as close to him as possible in order to be able to fight back to back, possibly meaning that Bulo thought there were greater numbers.

Rathen fought away the feelings of panic and tried to look around the camp with his head as still as possible. Nothing. Apparently the attackers were still concealed.

Bulo inched closer but without movement from his arms or legs as if he was slithering along the ground. What the hell?

“Bulo!” Rathen said in a slightly raised voice.

There came no answer from Bulo as he inched forward towards Rathen’s face. The camp fire sparked up with a hiss as it became brighter. Bulo’s face was clear now, his eyes were empty. No, they were dead! An overwhelming panic surged through Rathen as he realized that his attacker was not out of sight hiding in the shadows, but was now almost face to face with him. He had let his defenses down and now he was in trouble. It was strike now, or not at all!

Rathen slide the sword from the sheath, twisting his body with the swing he generated torque strong enough that landed directly on Bulo’s large shoulder cutting deep at an angle. The blade stopped at the base of Bulo’s neck but there was no reaction. There was no blood.

The fire suddenly engulfed itself in a giant blaze sending up flames high in the night. Rathen could see well Bulo’s face where he had cut him to the neck. Rathen tried to wrestle the sword from Bulo’s body but it did not move. It was stuck in the horrendous wound. Rathen tried to stand up but was unable to move as if there was someone holding down his body from above. He could only look straight into the ghostly eyes of his good friend he had just cut his sword into.

“Raathennn….” a hissing voice came out of the mouth of Bulo.

The wraith, Rathen realized. No! Had it consumed Bulo’s body?

The campfire popped loudly and went brighter as if someone threw a bucket of oil onto it. From the fire, another hiss. The hiss grew louder “ssssss Raathennn”.

The voice sounded as if it were coming from the fire but the lips on Bulo’s pale face moved to them.

Feeling sorrow for his dead friend and fear for himself, he looked upon Bulo’s face as he laid there motionless.

“There iss more to fear than me”, the voice hissed.

As words were spoken from Bulo’s dead lips, his face started to shift, his skin started to boil. The skin started to drip from his face, his lips, still hissing, slid down his chin and onto the ground. His eyes bubbled into liquid and ran down his face that was now mostly bone. With nothing but a skull and what was left of his hair on top of his head, Bulo’s mouth began to hiss louder as his eye sockets sparked two fine points of red lights within.

What the hell was he looking at, Rathen’s mind raced as he continued to struggle to free his sword. The campfire become brighter and brighter as the skull hissed louder and louder. The light become too much to bear, shutting his eyes, he tried to twist his body and kick his feet.

Suddenly the noise stopped and his body moved again. Rathen opened his eyes to the bright sunlight above. Sitting up as quickly as he could, he saw Bulo holding a pan of sizzling meat over the campfire. Was it all a dream?

The Big Race

Subject: An Action scene
Setting: Any
Time period: Any
Length: Less than 500
Restrictions: None
Due: April 30th

 

Trent walked towards his car, barely containing his excitement.  He had been waiting for this for what seemed like forever and he couldn’t help grinning uncontrollably.  His heart was beating fast as he gulped from his cup anxiously waiting to roll.  He looked up to see the signal he was waiting for and jumped in, pressing his foot down hard on the gas pedal to make the race car take off fast as lightening.

Trent jumped into the lead in the initial straight away, picking up even more speed as he rounded the first turn.  Just then his car sputtered.  What was this?! he thought.  No, no, no, not now!   Trent’s car started to slow down and several cars passed him.  His heart started to sink as he realized his chance to win this one was slipping.

As he looked out the car window up towards the people around him he wondered if his fans would still be fans if he lost.  They seemed disinterested in the race, or at least bored with his failure today to maintain his ‘Fastest Car in the World’ reputation, and he had grown accustomed to having all the ladies hover around him.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, his car returned to its usual perfection.  Thankful for the sudden break he kicked it into gear and sped off towards the next turn.  His tires squealed as he leaned into it, doing his best to ignore the large, blurry towers at the edges of the track.  They could be very distracting if he let them but with his coach’s words in his ears he kept his eyes forward and his hands on the wheel.  He appeared to be back in the lead, no other cars in sight.

Trent grinned again, this time as he was speeding through an S-curve, his favorite one on this track.  He knew this curve was the most difficult one of all the tracks he had been on but he did his best to keep focused.  As Trent struggled not to become distracted, the large towers and all the people tempted him.  Determination was his friend now, and he worked hard to keep his focus.

As Trent punched the gas pedal the car sped up and into the last curve.  He passed one more car and was saddened when he realized he had finished the lap.  He pulled up to the finish line and leaped out of his car.  So overjoyed at winning another race he suddenly couldn’t help himself any longer.  Those large towers drew him in and he ignored the coach’s words.  Trent ran over, grabbed at the towers, and jumped as he heard his coach.

“Trent!  No candy today, it is not time for a snack.”  Trent looked down in disappointment, then grinned and looked at his mom with innocent eyes willing her to give in to the chocolate.  As she shook her head, he noticed all the ladies looking at him sweetly.  Well, he thought, at least I won the race.