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  1. #1
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    May 2012

    Properties of the Force (a SW FF Blurb, Prologue & Chap1)

    (OC!) As the Clone Wars rage, one clone-troopers fate reflects the struggle that threatens to tear the galaxy apart. For CT-3033 has a frightening secret. One that could expose the darkness devouring the Republic... & the Jedi Order. Forcing them to face the questions posed by his very existence: Are clones Property of the Republic? or, Properties of the Force? (includes Novella:'Oni's Log')


    Standing in the dusty arena on Geonosis, Master Thain Dural gazed above the audience stands, into the burning Geonosean sun. He coughed roughly. Not only because of the dust being kicked up by the barren planets winds, but also the smell of the dead. Seemingly unaffected by the breeze, it hung low to the ground. As if refusing to abandon the corpses that created them, the stench kept watch over the bodies, in defiance of the spirits that had already left them.

    It wasn’t just the smell he was trying to avoid. It was the sight of so many dead Jedi that he really couldn’t take any longer.

    They lay strewn about everywhere, intermingled with the smashed remains of the very droids that had slain them. The chaos of it was almost too much to believe, even though he had seen it all for himself, first hand. Forcing himself to face reality until his mind excepted it, the Jedi dropped his eyes again to study the carnage surrounding him.

    Off in the distance, he could hear that the fight went on. But here, he remained.

    With a hard blink to clear his vision, he finally let his sight fall upon the body that lay at his feet. Cold and covered with blaster burns, the sightless eyes of his apprentice stared right through him.

    “You should not have been here.” He softly admitted to her, to himself. “I should never have brought you here.”

    Reaching down, he delicately closed his padawans accusing eyes. At least, they seemed to accuse him every time he looked at her once lovely, violet-skinned, now blistered and scared face. Emotion almost overcame him.
    With great effort, he recited part of the Jedi Code... “There is no emotion, there is only peace.”
    The words of ancient wisdom now sounded hollow and trite to his ears. Since peace would not find him in this place of death, he settled on a less comforting ideal.. despair.

    Taking his dead padawans lightsaber into his hand, the Jedi Master swore an ominous oath over her young, lifeless body...

    “I will never train another.”

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    'Properties of the Force'
    by: voodoogator


    Different... A-typical…Non-uniform…Unacceptable.
    CT-3033 knew he was different. He didn’t know why he was different, or what was different about him, he just knew that he was not the same as his brothers... any of them. Each time, the realization sent cold shivers running up his spine. Because the one thing he did know about being different, was that being 'different' was BAD.

    Dubbed 'Trey' by his pod-brothers, CT-3033 was a clone. Born in gestation tanks on the rainy planet of Kamino, he and the others like him lived an assembly-line existence. Meals, sleep, and training all carefully scheduled and monitored by the Kaminoans who ran the facility that was his whole world. Under there piercing, intolerant gaze, every aspect of the clones pyshical and mental traits were scrutinized to ensure adherence to the clonemasters very exacting standards.

    Clones lived in constant fear being found 'defective' by the Kaminoan technicians. Units that failed meet up to the Clonemasters strict standards of conformity were taken away from their brothers to be 'reconditioned'. The few who returned were never the same. And none of those ever lasted very long in the fast-paced and deadly training that was the everyday existence for troopers produced to be the very best soldiers to ever put on battle armor.

    Besides the grey-skinned aliens who oversaw their manufacture, the only other beings the clones had contact with were their Mandolorian instructors…hard, often abusive men and women. Mostly human, with a few exceptions, who drilled the clones in the arts of war and survival.
    Although some were rumored to have soft-spots for favored pupils, on the whole, these warriors were no more compassionate or forgiving of failure than the beings they worked for.

    So Trey kept his concerns to himself. But always there was the fear.

    That his non-conformities would be discovered. That they would come for him one night, and his squadmates would awaken the next training cycle to find CT-3033's cot empty. His fear was for them, as well. If he was found to be too non-regulative, his entire pod could taken away. For their sakes, more than for his own, he would remain silent.. and try his best to perform up to specs.
    Or rather, down to specs. He hated to think of himself as being 'better' than his brothers.. nor any clone for that matter...but he was.
    Aside from the specially-enhanced ARCs, and of course, the downright unruly Null-ARCs.. who reigned havoc across the entire facility; every clone was his brothers equal.
    To think of another clone as being 'less' than him filled him with disgust.. and doubt.

    Fear, his instructors had told him, could be useful. All beings felt fear, they'd told him so. It heighten the senses and sharpened the mind. It could be used to push your body long past its normal limits. But, it could also leave you paralyzed in the face of danger. Learning how to properly use your fear was often the key to victory.. and survival.

    Doubt, however, was a disease of the mind. Doubt would cause all the negative effects of fear, but without the benefits. Fear could keep you alive, he'd been taught... but doubt could get you killed.

    CT-3033 feared his doubts more than anything else. More than death, even more than being found to be 'different'. That was the worst thing about knowing he was not the same as the others.. it filled him with doubt. And those doubts gave further rise to his fears. That should have made it manageable.. he'd been trained to turn fear to his advantage. Instead, his fear thwarted any attempt to bring it into line.. like a untamable Null-ARC, refusing to obey its master.

    Laying prone in his bunk, Trey raised up and swung his legs to the cold floor beneath him. The darkened artificial lighting of the berthing area told him it was not yet time to begin the days training, but he knew he could sleep no more. Standing, he made his way as quietly as possible to the communal refreshers at the end of the row of cots. Reaching the lavs, he turned the valve that released hot, steaming water, and splashed a handful on his face.
    Lifting his eyes to the reflective surface above the sink, Trey stood for several moments breathing deeply, trying unsuccessfully to banish the thoughts that plagued him.

    Would today be the day they found him out?

    He swallowed, finding his mouth suddenly dry. Lifting another dose of water to his face, he sipped the tepid liquid, then splashed the remainder to his face again, running his clawed fingers through the turf of dark hair he, and all his brothers, sported.. courtesy of their genetic-donor, Jango Fett. Seeing the exact replica of the Mando before him, Trey wondered if Jango himself had ever felt such fear. Catching his own eye in the mirror, he doubted it.

    More doubts.

    With a heavy sigh, he walked back to his bunk and lay awake waiting for dawn... fearful of the day ahead.


  2. #2
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    May 2012
    I suppose I forgot to add this, so...

    Hi, Im 'voodoogator'.

    The above post is a rough-edit of my first serious attempt at writing. 'Properties of the Force' is the 1st book of my StarWars- based, original character fanfiction trilogy.
    I am always seeking feedback to help make my writing better, so please 'critique away'! I value any and all input, thanks.

    (I have 9 more chapters... plus a 6-chapter side-novella titled 'Oni's Log', intended to provide more char depth... that I thought to post here, but are already posted at www.fanfiction.net/voodoogator ... if anyone wishes to read more of the story

    thank you again!)

  3. #3
    Rogue Mutt
    I wrote a Star Wars fanfic a little over 20 years ago, before the prequels and the sequel.

    I watched the Clone Wars series, though I don't know it well enough to know how well this fits into it.

    he would remain silent.. and try his best to perform up to specs
    Missing a period for an ellipsis.

    Laying prone in his bunk
    Lying prone. Laying would mean he's setting something down on the bunk.

  4. #4
    Senior Member
    Join Date
    May 2015
    Elkins Park PA
    Standing in the dusty arena on Geonosis, Master Thain Dural gazed above the audience stands, into the burning Geonosean sun. He coughed roughly.
    This encapsulates the problems I see. You, an external narrator, are telling the reader what they would see were this a video. "First he did this...then he did that...after that..."

    Put yourself in the place of a viewer. The scene appears on the screen, and before he even looks up I know what the place and the people look like. I know the ambiance of the palace, how he, ans everyone else is dressed. I know if he's armed, and a thousand other things. Ans I learn it all in milliseconds, all in parallel. At the same time the sounds tell me the mood, and of the pageantry, if any. How in the hell are you going to give a reader that in twenty-three words?

    Sure, when you read it, it's real. But you're guided by intent, which dribbles off the words at the keyboard. The image you see in your mind when you read generated the words, but those words are not a compressed version of reality, and can't be decompressed in the reader's mind and make them see what you visualized.

    Look at it from a reader's viewpoint. What in the hell is a burning sun? Don't they all burn? What's a rough cough? What does the title "master" mean? Why do I care that someone I don't know looked directly at the sun and damaged his eyes?

    Ask yourself which would have more meaning to you: What made him look up or the fact that he did. That he coughed, and why it matters, or that he did? The difference between the two in each example is that in one it;s meaningful to him, and in the other, to you. And that's my point. Instead of telling the reader what a camera sees, and then explaining it, tell the reader what matters to him as he sees it.

    The short version: You can't "tell" a story on the page because the reader can't hear or see the storyteller, which removes the emotion from the words. You cannot use the techniques of film on the page, either, because it reproduces neither sound nor picture.

    So your sincerity, your desire, and your fitness to be a writer aren't in doubt. Nor is your dedication. But your knowledge of the craft the writing—the learned part—is incomplete.

    Yes, you learned to write in school. We all do, to make us useful to future employers—which means we learned a general set of nonfiction writing skills. But our high school math doesn't prepare us to be a mathematician, because it's a general, not professional set of skills, just as is our writing. Our schooling never touched on the use of tags, and what scene goals do for us. No one told us why scenes usually end in disaster for the protagonist, or the difference between point of view as defined by the personal pronouns we use and writing in the protagonist's viewpoint. And that's knowledge we need. to entertain our reader.

    Not what you were hoping to hear, I know. But any profession has tricks-of-the-trade and specialized knowledge that those not in the profession won't notice because, as they say, "art conceals art." So if you want to write like a pro you have to know the things they take for granted. And your local library's fiction writing department can be a huge resource in that.

  5. #5
    Rogue Mutt
    Don't worry, Voodoo, Greenstein literally says that to everyone. In a blind test he even said that to a sample from his mentor Dwight Swain. You'd think after that he might have learned, but no...

  6. #6
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    May 2012
    lol... it's alright, I truly value the input.

    I can see the virtue in a lot of what JG said. If this weren't a fanfic (being set in an already well-established story-world, one familiar to the majority of SW fans & SWFF readers) a lot of what he pointed out would probably be more applicable.
    None the less, keeping a eye towards readers unfamiliar with the 'canon' material is important. Never good to shut-out newcomers.

    As for SPaG errors... while I do realize that poor SPaG can make a story somewhat more difficult to read smoothly (and, realize how important this truly is), I have to say that I'm less concerned with things that a SpellCheck program can fix, than I am with the quality of the content.
    (Really, if the storyline sucks, proper spelling wont do much to help... will it?)
    However, finding them is the first step in fixing them before submitting a final edit, and I appreciate any such examples for that reason.

    Thanks for the insights, I look forward to more!

  7. #7
    Junior Member
    Join Date
    May 2012
    Update: Chapters 11 & 12 posted on fanfiction.net

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