Imperial [Star Wars Fanfic]

[CharioteerArcana]

AN: This is my first story, so I hope it isn't too subpar!
Special thanks to my Beta-Reader and Advisor (who also helped with creating many plot points for this story) Night_stalker

It is only now, when it is far too late to change that I have begun to look back on my decisions, a sense of regret seeping into my being, perhaps in another time, I would have heeded the lessons of a father now dead.

Maybe follow in the footsteps of my mother, bringing aid to those in need as she had, tending to the wounded and those who could ill-afford to live crippled.

But I am not such a man, forgiveness and benevolence are traits none have used to describe me.
Impulsiveness, yes, as righteous anger filled my very being, left me blind to the lessons my parents had attempted to impart upon me from a young age.
Callousness, another, as I spit on my grave of my father by leaving my home to fight a war, to bring violence unto others, an idea so antithetical to his beliefs that not even mothers death could rouse him from doing anything other than a non-violent protest against her killers.
Cowardice, always, as I continued to delude myself in facing the truth of the matter, that what I was doing was neither just nor was it right, as I overlooked injustice and chose to become part of the very problem that led to the deaths of my loved ones.

Perhaps in another time.
But I was young, and like every story about them, I was foolish.
Enchanted at the sight of the lockstep marching of our organic liberators, I listened intently as propaganda videos of a grandfatherly man appealed to the crowds for aid against those who would deny us our freedoms.
How could I refuse? To be a dashing naval officer traversing across the galaxy, to avenge my parents and do my part for the war effort, instead of spending the rest of my life on a dustbowl planet where even power generators are considered a luxury few can afford.

I had dreams and ambitions, and I'm sure my parents would be proud of me, well, that is what I told myself, smiling as I was patted on the back and led away by a man who was replaced by one near-identical to him.

 

[CharioteerArcana]

AN: I will be grateful any advice, recommendations or criticism to help improve both my writing and story skills.
Special thanks to my Beta-Reader and Advisor (who also helped with creating many plot points for this story) Night_stalker

I woke to the rumbling of machines, my eyes red from poor sleep, the sounds of labour was constant, especially when living so close to one of the largest mines on this Force-forsaken planet, but even awake I had not the energy nor will to move.

What's the point?

Eyes red as they strained to work with so little rest as I began to count of numerous cracks on the low ceiling of my small room, the paint having eroded long ago, leaving only signs of great age and poor craftsmanship.
But life does not wait for you, and as a flake of plaster is caught in my eye, I cursed violently, my poor luck seeming to be an everpresent curse, rising onto my feet from the floor I rub my eyes in displeasure.
Now noticing the other sound nearby, of an energetic girls voice barely muffled by the walls, combined with the smells of fresh stew.

Swallowing the saliva that had collected in my mouth, I quickly set the blankets that softened the harshness of the floor, blinking away the feeling of exhaustion - I pull open the only other piece of furniture from this claustrophobia-inducing room.
The wicker basket revealing a few pieces of clothing, donning some faded slacks and a slightly torn t-shirt my eye wanders elsewhere, noting the tightness around my shoulders, with the sound of old repaired damage opening anew, panic and sorrow taking control as I realise I had damaged yet another possession of fathers.

I'll need to get new clothes...

"So-So! 'ake up, or I'm eating your share!"
An energetic voice makes my head jerk up in surprise, now realising how close it is.
Two confused orbs stare back at me from a diminutive height, most her body hidden behind the barely open door, her head reaching the knob of the door, the child waits for my response with characteristic impatience, her knees buckling as she holds herself from rushing back to the kitchen.

"Don't you dare! You eat enough as it is!"
My voice rings out, pushing any depressing thoughts to the back of my mind, her eyes widen then narrow in annoyance before she sticks her tongue out, she rushes back to the kitchen voice loudly proclaiming,
"So-So 'aid I could eat his yoghurt!"
Gritting my teeth for but a moment, a smile threatens to break loose, Myra was always one to brighten my day, moving at a more sedate pace, I gave chase shouting her name as breakfast was soon forgotten and the morning devolved in a sudden game of hide and seek.

Passing by the kitchen, I nod to the short woman who is tending to a small stove, her eyes lighting up as she begins to prepare a portion of some meat stew for me, her motherly voice diverting my attention from chasing the new fleeing, Myra.
"Sokal, I'm glad to see you out of your room so early! Now sit! You can play games later, a growing boy needs his breakfast!"
Any thought of entertaining Myra took a backseat as I plopped myself on one of the stools near the square dining table.

It was difficult to ever disobey Mrs Daine, the guilt would probably be worse than any punishment she could do, it didn't feel right to do her wrong after all she had done for me.
"Aires had to leave early for work, the droids seem to be malfunctioning, and he's been called in to sort it out, as per his contract."
Her voice dripping was disdain at the mention of the planets trade federation garrison, as she explained the absence of the bespectacled man of the house.
I silently nodded, there was never an enjoyable moment when thinking about the situation outside my room, it brought about painful memories.
Licking my dry lips as the soft-spoken woman placed a ceramic bowl and spoon in front of me, grabbing hold of the spoon I quickly dig into the steaming stew, ignoring the slight pain of the still hot meal - far too hungry to care.

Though when Myra returned, I had at least the decency to look abashed, having forgotten entirely about the impromptu game she was eager to play.
Though her look of betrayal quickly disappeared with the offer of my portion of sweet yoghurt, the girl proclaiming as a queen to her subjects that "So-So is forgiven!" - seated contently beside me as she dug into one of the few desserts available in this backwater planet.

Mrs Daine soon joining us at the table as Myra was once again reminded that even if it was a weekend, she still had to study, any protestations swept aside with a firm stare and threats of grounding, I remained silent, content in enjoying the moment and unwilling to take part.
Though... It made me feel slightly jealous of Myra, of what she had, and what I lacked, the loving smile of an attentive mother and the constant attention of a spoiling father, though I would never admit it.
"kal? Sokal!"
the voice of Mrs Daine garnered my attention as she looked at me patiently.
"You need to stop wandering off like that, you know I don't like shouting"
her exasperated tone quickly disappearing after an apology that she did not take at face value.

"Myra, perhaps you would like to watch some cartoons on the holoprojector while me and Sokal talk?" Her soft words seemed to peak the curiosity of the munchkin.
"I-is Sokal in trouble? He didn't do anything!"
slightly touched at her willingness to defend me I shake my head, not at all eager to see her torn up, emitting an aura of confidence (or at least I hope it was) I spoke readily.
"Ah- We're going to be talking about mathemati-"
Before you could even finish the sentence, she was out of her chair and racing towards the holoprojector, unwilling to be roped into more studying.
With Myra gone, Mrs Daine turned her now slightly pained eyes towards me, placing holding my right hand between hers, in the act of comfort - but that did little to soothe the panic that only began to take root by her serious attitude.

"I have never regretted opening our doors to you in your time of need; it was the right thing to do."
voice resolute as she tries to comfort me.
"But we have fallen on hard-times, low wages and trade-federation overseers pushing the mines to their limits, we barely have enough to feed Myra."
tone softening with her grip on your hand tightening her eyes shine with sympathy, but it did little to calm my nerves as I began to fear for the worst, my mouth turning dry as I quickly respond.

"Ah...I can find a job! Help pay my keep!"
my voice and failing to hide the panic the laces it.
"We'll never turn you out Sokan, but it would be fantastic if you could...well, get one..."
her voice uncertain, remembering past attempts to secure my employment at the mines, turned away without a second glance from their offices as Mr Daine was chewed out by a clerk.
Scrambling to my feet, I nod my head quickly; I didn't want to show so much weakness in-front of her.
"Don't worry Mrs Daine; I think I know somewhere I can work at..."
Moving quickly around her at a quick pace towards the exit of the house, as her eyes widened in realisation on who I was going to turn to, but I had already scrambled away from her reach by then.

 

[Arned]

I can see that this is the Republic Era.

 

[CharioteerArcana]

I can see that this is the Republic Era.

Click to shrink...

The Story will stretch from the Republic Era to the Rise of the Galactic Empire.
If you have any criticisms please feel free to post them - I need to know my mistakes before I end up replicating them in everything I write.

Edit: Also, welcome to Questionable Questing!

 

[Arned]

Good to be here. As for criticisms, the placement of sentences seems somewhat odd and the second to last paragraph's second sentence needs capitalization at the beginning of the speech.

 

[CharioteerArcana]

Good to be here. As for criticisms, the placement of sentences seems somewhat odd and the second to last paragraph's second sentence needs capitalization at the beginning of the speech.

Click to shrink...

Ah, are the smaller paragraphs split unnecessarily?

 

[Arned]

A little bit, yes. Makes the story feel like a too cut up piece of meat.

 

[CharioteerArcana]

The smell of tobacco and alcohol (that would probably burn through my stomach lining if I tried them) made me wince, even after so many years I could never get used to the appalling conditions the Shrivelled Krayt operated in, my requests to at least open one window were ignored by the Cantina owner Griz, a grizzled Sullustan who would ensure that every sentence he spoke contained at least one insult.

Though I could rarely if ever hold it against the man, this was one of the few places I could unwind and eat as much meat? (Force knows what it is because I don't) as possible, the man was someone I respected, while most (excluding the Daine Family) ignored my presence after the disappearance of dad.
I was made into a social pariah, the miners would not employ me for fear that federation overseers would punish them, and the community could ill-afford to help a child who would be a continuous drain on the few credits they could eke out in this Force-forsaken dustbowl.

But he didn't, opening his doors he would let me hang around the cantina, his words of my father painted a new light of the pacifist man that had stood resolute in his non-violent opposition to the trade federation to the end, of a happy-go-lucky mercenary who jumped from contract to contract, killing and looting his way across half the mid-rim and being hunted down by the other half.
My repeated questioning on how he knew so much about dad only elicited one answer, "I was there." though if he were a partner in crime or something else he would not elaborate, instead opting to criticise the man I idolised, I was able to overlook them...For the most part, few people were willing to pay attention to me, nevermind, speaking to me.

Though I had visited less and less as the years went by, Mrs Daine not approving of the influence that "No good pirate" had on me (Myra didn't learn that word from me!), but he was the last and only option I had through legitimate means to earn money.

Bowing my head as the Sullustan continued to berate me, a uniformed official nursing a cold drink in the background, taking pleasure in my public humiliation, but I could do nothing, I don't think I would have the willpower to go home and face the tired eyes of a family overworked for my sake.

"'If I find you backtalking my customers one more time yer out of the job!"
his voice threatening I tiredly nodded, before picking up a tray of drinks to deliver to another group of cargo-captains, nearly losing my footing as I inhaled some of the incense that seemed to cling around them like a cloak.
Pressing down the tray on their table, one of the more lucid captains nodded in thanks before picking up his smoking pipe from his lap to take another hit of whatever drug he seemed to so crave.

I have to say, for the first time since my childhood, I felt... Free.

The lighting of the cantina seemed to be brighter, each breath tickled my chest and each step, while out of sync was filled with the energy of a full nights rest, a smile broke loose across my face.
Picking up the tray sans the glasses I attempted to navigate towards the bar, accidentally stumbling into an irate miner who, once realising my identity quickly ignored my presence.
But I didn't care, why would I? I had better, more fun things to do! Reaching the bar, placing a few drinks onto the tray, I looked at the orders for the correct table, rushing quickly to do my job, the uniformed sailors ignored my presence entirely as I carefully placed each glass of coloured liquid onto the table, and though it went against what I was instructed not to do, I listened in on their conversation.

"Why the hell would Geonosis be the sorting depot for these things! It's obvious whats going on! They're not selling 'em! They're using 'em!"
my eyes widened at this piece of gossip, it did make sense, why the mines are working overtime, as I placed the last glass on the table, I quickly walked towards a nearby abandoned table, slowly lifting the little and empty glasses from atop it as I continued to eavesdrop.

"That's stupid, your an idiot Dravik! You can only make weapons with them!" one of his more lucid fellows quickly rebuked the man, nursing his drink he grimaced when his drunk friend shouted in anger.

"'Xactly! For an army! A droid army! Look, man, they ain't 'appy with the Senate after Naboo! Why'da think they put security droids on this backwater! It's all hush-hush!"

"You've been sniffing too much of that spice Dravik, it's gone and made you dumber than you were before, next your going to be telling me the Jedi are going to try and arrest them." The sober friends' response was laced with sarcasm and some amount of annoyance.

"Ah! Great minds think alike my boy!" the more inebriated gossipmonger responded with a jovial tone, ignoring his friends' sarcasm.

As their conversation petered out in favour of downing their drinks, I began to carry the tray full of rubbish towards the trash-compactor, though the cantina seemed to darken and my eyes started wavering but I tried best in maintaining my balance with my right foot suddenly becoming overcome with a prickling sensation the urge to throw up making breathing difficult, I tripped over a stool, scattering empty wrappers and shards of broken glass across the corroded metal flooring.

"Hutts Damn you boy! That's coming outta your paycheck!"
Wincing at the cries of Griz as he begins to swear in a language besides basic, his patrons looking on in amusement, I moved to retrieve the broom from behind the counter, attempting to blink away the fatigue that has overcome me, only a single thought rising to my mind.

I'm not getting paid today, am I?

 

[NQE vash]

You keep forgetting to capitalize at many points. Also, you should probably leave spaces between each person talking - like so:

"Y," X said.

"What does that even mean?" Z said.

"I have no idea," X said.

You should also consider that ~1k chapters may work with Quests, but they're really off-putting in CW. Consider putting up one large update of at least 3k words every few days instead of multiple, small ~500 - 1k updates every day.

 

[Arned]

Vash has the right of it.

 

[CharioteerArcana]

You keep forgetting to capitalize at many points. Also, you should probably leave spaces between each person talking - like so:

"Y," X said.

"What does that even mean?" Z said.

"I have no idea," X said.

You should also consider that ~1k chapters may work with Quests, but they're really off-putting in CW. Consider putting up one large update of at least 3k words every few days instead of multiple, small ~500 - 1k updates every day.

Click to shrink...

Ah, I'll take that into account, thank you!

Edit: I have a second question, how is the pacing of the story? am I going too quickly in regards to the MC's interactions? I'm worried I'm not fleshing out a personality and rather making him react to outside stimuli instead.

 

[Arned]

You should build on some of his motives.