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Hatred of His - Between III and IV - Started 1/13/03

Discussion in 'Fan Fiction Stories--Classic JC Board (Reply-Only)' started by Grand Admiral Thran, Jan 13, 2003.

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  1. Grand Admiral Thran

    Grand Admiral Thran Jedi Youngling star 4

    Jul 22, 1999
    Okay, I'm putting myself in the noose as I've never written any sort of fanfiction really. Contributed to a few, but nothing really beyond a page.

    I sat down last night, reading over some fanfiction that I saw from Qui-Gon Tim's link in the bottom of his signature. Well, one thing led to another and I ended up reading a lot of them. They were all great, and inspired me I guess. Most of the stories, however, had love interest as their main theme and centered around very well known characters in the SW universe. I didn't really have interest in writing about that, so I chose to take a different path and create some characters completely new. I still used canon/EU characters and the skeletal frame of StarWars, but the main characters are brand new. I'm not sure if this will help/hurt the story or what not, or even if I can write worth diddley, but I thought I'd give it a shot and present it. If it does bad, oh well, always can go a different direction or improve on my writing. All comments are more than welcome, both positive and negative.

    Well, before I ramble on or write anymore, I finished the first five chapters and am posting them here for feedback. These are unedited, and I did write them late at night, so I'm not sure how well they will do. As I said, I'm new to this ;), but trying.

    The time frame is in between Episode III and IV, closer to just after Episode III. I'm ignoring what may be in the new Episode III (IE spoilers or plot hints) so there is no worry of that. This probably strays from the timeline/SW universe, but then again, it is fanfic ;). It's rated PG (I feel), so far, but may go up to PG-13 later on.

    Hopefully, you can get the characters, sub-plots, ect. from the story itself (if I wrote it decently that is ;)). So here goes nothing!


    Hatred of His

    ?Of course, my lord.? Were his words as he walked out of the dark, ominous hall. His form was cloaked in pure black, masking any identification of what he may look like, or if it was a he at all. His footsteps resounded through the walkway as he left the Inner Sanctum of the Emperor, making his way to the grand archway and out onto the balcony. The Imperial City resided below him, in all its magnificent glory, rising up from the ground as if it were one entity, breathing in the dark, stormy night. Every light, building, and vehicle bringing the cold metal heap into a singular being of many systems. His hand came from out beneath his robes, resting on the railing of the lofty balcony. The sound of thunder is heard in the distance as the rain beats down unusually hard this night, falling around him. Even his hand is clad in black leather, growing slightly wet from the rain which is whipped about by the strong breeze. His eyes peered out from the hood of his pitch black cloak, scanning the city, inch by inch, as if to examine and analyze all he saw.

    He hated this city; this miserable, filthy, disgusting city with swilling pigs in it. He hated the rich which lived high up in their seats of power, and he hated the poor which wallowed in the filth the rich created. He hated the Empire, as he had hated the Republic before, furthermore he hated the Dark Order of the Sith as he had hated the Jedi Council. It was this hate that had brought him here, to this palace of darkness in the galaxy. It was this hate that entrapped him, bound him to the Dark Side of the Force, causing him never ceasing torment of the mind and soul. It made him answer to his dark master, to do the will of the evil lord, who years previous had usurped the Galactic Republic and sat himself as the head of a new order, The Empire. He saw himself as nothing more than a tool, a pathetic being under control, yet his hate and anger was so strong he could not free himself of his self-made chains.

    His fist slammed down upon the cold, metal railing as he seethed once more in anger. His once placid, brown eyes of his youth are now rife with torment and angst. His breathing became harsher, more rapid as he began to nearly hiss
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