New Jedi Order Beginnings

The following quote summarizes, quite well, the problem I've always had with the NJO series (and those after it).

James Luceno: "Early on, though, the NJO wasn't intended to incorporate a great deal of Bantam continuity. We didn't want to alienate (so to speak) a new generation of Expanded Universe readers. This certainly was the case in Bob Salvatore's Vector Prime, and to some extend in Mike Stackpole's duology. But by the time I was writing Agents of Chaos, Del Rey was receiving emails and letter form fans imploring us not to abandon the Bantam continuity. The hard-core readership wanted one story - and we've done our best to give it to them. Given the wealth of background material, writing a Star Wars novel at this point is almost like writing a work of historical fiction!"

Annoying Argument

Recently I was re-watching Star Wars: A New Hope, and it got me thinking. In the many years since the prequel trilogy was released, I have heard many arguments along these lines: "You can't complain about how horrible the prequels were, the originals have their share of problems and are just as cheesy." These arguments have always annoyed me because they always feel focused on surface issues, shallow, and miss the real problem.

Underneath all of my complaints about the prequels is the belief that the very core of the prequels, the story that sits under all the special effects and all the acting (or lack thereof), has major issues while the core of the original trilogy does not (or at least on any major scale). 

It wasn't the special effects or the acting that made me love those original movies, it wasn't even that they were visual, it was, and still is, the story itself. I don't care about flashy special effects, I don't care much about cheesy ones (or else I would never love the original Doctor Who like I do…), but I do care very much about the story. And it is the story of the prequels that ultimately causes my extreme dislike of them. 

So if you are ever tempted to use that above argument on me... don't… please….

Post New Republic

As mentioned in the post "New Jedi Order and Legacy of the Force", the time when I would have enjoyed the Star Wars expanded universe books came to an end with the so-called "Post New Republic" era books. There is something about the situations and character developments (and deaths) in those series that just breaks my heart and sucks away everything about Star Wars that I loved. That may seem like an over-reaction, but to me it almost feels like an understatement. Not only do I dislike the Post New Republic books, but for me they taint everything that has come before. They leave a "bad taste in my mouth". 

I was having trouble understanding this until discussing a popular fantasy series with a friend. Neither of us was very fond of the series and what it came down to was the pointlessness of everything that happened. What the characters did wasn't important because there was no hope; everyone would die, things wouldn't change, there was nothing to look forward to. That is exactly what I feel the Post New Republic books did to the Star Wars universe; they removed hope and caused too much destruction. I don't feel excited by the "drama" of it, but instead feel robbed of victory. 

They crossed the line and in their quest for more 'exciting' stories went too far.

New Jedi Order and Legacy of the Force

For the longest time I have been a big fan of the Star Wars Expanded Universe and all of the books talented authors have written, but for the last few years I have been pushed away from all of that by the two newer series: The New Jedi Order series and the Legacy of the Force series.

The only way to describe my feelings toward these series is utter disgust. I hate the universe they created and I hate that it was a done from one of my favorites. And yet if feels so much more complicated than that. The things that disgust me are not simple or cut and dry. They are more complex and confusing than I am use to dealing with, and I don't quite know how to cope. Let me explain...

One of the things that was done that bothers me most is the death of Mara Jade Skywalker. She was killed before her time and it was wrong. This is all well and normal, but then it gets complicated. She wasn't killed off by the author who originally created her, Timothy Zahn, and who put a lot of effort into creating her. He wouldn't have killed her off at that particular point in time and in that particular way. This introduces an element of hope into something I would normally feel helpless rage over, and I don't know what to do with that. He can't change what happened in the story, but I find myself wishing I could get an alternate reality written by him. It will never happen, but I want it to happen. It is almost a feeling of helpless hope. Can I write and ask for him to fix everything?

Were that the only problem with the two series... There is so much more, from the death of Chewie and Anakin Solo, to the "destruction" of Coruscant and what happened to the New Republic, and to what happened to Jacen Solo... I hate it all, and I no longer feel like a member of the Star Wars fan community because of it. Is there a solution? I haven't found one yet.

SW FICTION: Thoughts of a Perspective Apprentice

Disclaimer: The Star Wars Universe, Jedi, etc. do not belong to me however much I would like them to. It is with great reluctance, then, that I admit that they belong to George Lucus. Kyda and Tenel Malik, I suppose, belong to me. At least I made up their names and some of their thoughts.

I really didn’t put much thought into this fic (especially the end) so don’t expect much.

--------------------------------------------------------------------
Thoughts of a Perspective Apprentice

The last of the training remotes fell to the ground as Kyda shut down her lightsaber. She had been able to block most of the shots the remotes had aimed at her, but her arm and leg were still sore from the few times the blasts had gotten though her defenses. It was a good thing they were set to low power.

Rubbing her arm and carefully sitting down at the edge of the practice room, Kyda let herself give into some of the frustration that had been creeping into her mind since the middle of the last exercise. She shouldn’t have missed any of those shots. She was a senior student at the Jedi Temple, ready to be taken as an apprentice to a Jedi Knight. That is...

Kyda tried to push the thought out of her mind. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow. Yet she knew it was impossible. Her thoughts had been so preoccupied lately with what she saw as her impending doom that she couldn’t even focus on an exercise she had performed flawlessly countless times before.

Tomorrow she was scheduled to duel with another of her agemates in front of Jedi Knight Tenel Malik, who had come to the temple in search of an apprentice. This alone was not strange. Kyda had dueled many times for masters in the hopes of becoming an apprentice ever since reaching the rank of senior student. Just as she would continue doing if tomorrow’s duel didn’t result in her becoming an apprentice. There was, supposedly, no hurry. After all, she still had time. She wouldn’t turn thirteen for another year. Many masters would come searching for apprentices in that time. She was certain that one would choose her. She would be a Jedi Knight whether or not she impressed Knight Malik tomorrow.

Yet, ever since she had been informed of this duel, she had the feeling that the Force was telling her that she needed to be accepted as Knight Malik’s apprentice. Kyda had never met her, not even heard of her before, yet when her name was mentioned she felt a strange connection with this knight. The name and the feelings that came with it seemed familiar to her even though there was no reason they should be.

Tenel Malik was, Kyda discovered, considered one of the more solitary members of the order. This explained why Kyda had never heard of her. She did not often return to the temple, nor work with others. She preferred the freedom working along gave. It was a shock (a pleasant shock in the mind of the Jedi Council), then, when she announced her intention of taking an apprentice.

Kyda knew she didn’t exactly fit the description of the perfect apprentice for Knight Malik. Not only was the knight considered solitary, she was considered to be one of the better duelers in the order. Her missions often reflected this fact. Her apprentice would need to be able to handle themselves in difficult situations from the beginning. They would need to be quite accomplished with a lightsaber. Anything less would waste the skills of the knight.

While Kyda was good with a lightsaber, she wasn’t as good as some of the others. It was possible for her to get distracted and fail at simple exercises as she proved earlier. In fact, Jacen Kendle, the student she would fight in the morning, was much better then she was. He had always been ahead of her in lightsaber skills and agility. She couldn’t escape the feeling, though, that despite all this she was the one who should be picked. She also couldn’t escape the feeling that Knight Malik wouldn’t see it her way. Kyda had always gotten the impression that knights choosing their first apprentice had higher expectations than those who had already trained an apprentice.

Kyda’s thoughts would have continued on this line for hours more, only increasing her nervousness and sense of doom, if she hadn’t be interrupted by someone entering the practice room she occupied.

The woman was tall with long dark blond hair and, like Kyda, human. She wore the traditional garb of the Jedi and had the air of an experienced knight. Coming fully into the room, allowing the door to close behind her, the knight took in her surroundings. When her eyes finally locked with Kyda’s and she smiled, Kyda felt a jolt run though her entire body. In that moment she knew, without a doubt, who the knight was. She also knew that she need not worry about her future any longer.

THE END

SW FICTION: Reflections

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
03/26/06: I'm not sure when this was actually written but it was posted to fanfiction.net on June 28th, 2003. It was the first fan-fiction I wrote (not that I've written that many since, but...). I still think it's good, but perhaps that's because it's the first :)

-------------------------------------------------------

Unfortunately I do not own Star Wars, either the name or the universe. That privilege belongs to Lucas. I intend to make no money or anything of that sort, like I even could. Writing and posting this story is purely for my own enjoyment and, I hope, for the enjoyment of others.

Now, on to my own comments. I have to say this for my own sake. Yes I know about green squadron but I chose to ignore my previous knowledge for this story because I needed a squadron name and I liked that one. I am also aware that the story is kind of corny in some parts (especially the last few sentences), but I couldn't think of how to write a better ending at the time. I probably shouldn't be saying any of this and just let you deal with it on your own but... oh well.

Reviews are, of course, welcome. I would like to write much more and need all the help I can get :) Especially when it comes to technical stuff. I never did get off the training levels of the X-Wing game. I'll have to read the X-Wing books again to refresh my memory on how to fly...

Now, to the story...


Reflections

As far as I could tell, I had been floating there, conscious, for hours before they came and pulled me out. The fact that I could barely remember who I was didn't bother me too much; I was too relieved to be out of the Bacta. When memory finally returned, first just trickling in and then in an unwelcome flood, I was able to at least ask the medic how the rest of my people were.

"They're fine, the last one came out of the Bacta a day ago," the sandy haired medic said. Brian, I remembered his name was.

"Just for good measure I'd like to ask you some questions." Brian said.

"Okay." I replied

"What is your name and rank?" Simple question. I still hesitated.

"Commander Cathren Collins." I said.

"How old are you Commander?"

"21"

"Good. You're going to have to stay here a little while longer, so why don't you just lie down and rest." He said and left. Why was it Medics were always in a hurry?

Lying down on the bed they offered me I began to review the events that had brought me here. People came and went, many of them giving me a better picture of what had transpired.

My squadron, Green Squadron by name, had set off from the _Freedom_ (our base) on a routine run on an unarmed Imperial convoy. It had started out fairly well. Our twelve x-wings jumped out of hyperspace right on target. The y-wings, on lone to us from Champion Squadron, disabled the freighter in minuets. Just when I was about to give the command to jump back into Hyperspace (with the Freighter, of course), two more freighters jumped into the system. Rather than risk the loss of people and equipment, I gave the order that as soon as they were clear, they were to make the jump. We never got the chance. Coming out of nowhere, the Ties were on us before we realized what had happened.

Putting my x-wing in a tight loop to the right, I tried to lose the Tie that had somehow come up behind me.

"On my mark three, dive to the left." My cockpit com squawked. To my right I saw an explosion that could only have been the Tie that had been following Green Three.

"Nice Job Six." I said.

A torrent of laser fire hitting my back shields snapped me back to my own problem. Putting all power to the back shields, I sidestepped my x-wing to the left. Completing the maneuver I cut all power to the engines and put on the reverse thrust. The result? My x-wing stopped dead in space. Laser fire bombarded my shields, but they held and just as I expected, the Tie, going to fast, overshot me. Getting my x-wing back to normal speed I came up in back of the Tie and with practiced ease, centered the cross-hairs on the ball cockpit and fired. The explosion was more spectacular than I could have hoped for.

"Nice Shot." The teasing voice of Green Five, my older brother, said.

Currently clear, I took the opportunity to assess the situation. My pilots were handling themselves well. Out of the original 24 Ties only 10 remained and from what I could see we had only lost one pilot. Puling up the file I saw that it was Ceren Kess, one of the new pilots and it was with great relief that I saw he was able to eject.

As I put my x-wing on a course that would take me back to the main battle, I saw another of my pilots go down (also ejected). Maybe it was because of my focusing on the battle ahead that I didn't notice the Tie had slipped behind me (I realized later that my R2 did not warn me). Situational Awareness is what they say keeps a pilot alive. In my case, its momentary laps nearly got me killed. Before I knew what was happening my shields had fallen and my x-wing was starting to fall apart.

I still don't remember ejecting, but my whole squadron says I did. So I will just have to take their word for it.

One of my pilots sent a distress signal to the _Freedom_, as I was told later. The _Freedom_ came, it seems, and retrieved all of its floating pilots, faithfully making sure that we were well taken care of.

Funny as it seems, I actually enjoy what I do. To me freedom is worth spending a few days in a Bacta tank and yes, even worth paying for with my life.

-THE END-

Harry Potter and Lightsabers...

This doesn’t really have anything to do with anything, but I find that when I’m trying to think about my Harry Potter story I have a hard time dealing with the absence of lightsabers. There are really few things more satisfying to think about then a good lightsaber battle. The bright glow of the light swords. The clash as the beams of pure energy connect. The very deadly dance, beautiful in its own way, as the opponents dual each other. A wand battle just doesn’t compare.