Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars and since I've been writing a lot of Beast Wars lately (mostly, if not all, Dinobot stuff), I'll add that I don't own any kind of TF either. I'm a teenage student and thus poor, so don't sue me.
Warning: You might not want to read this on a full stomach and it's written from the perspective of a Yuuzhan Vong.
Time: Could be any time, but I'm posting this in Beyond because most people from the other eras won't know Yuuzhan Vong very well.
Now, to see if I'm having a writer's block with an upcoming scene in my fic or just no longer in the Yuuzhan Vong groove.
Warrior, Born of Warriors
I am a warrior, born of warriors, like the others of my kind. I trained and now, for the sake of honor, I fight to death against the enemies of the gods and of my domain. For my domain's honor and my honor, I attack only those who attack me and those who are as strong or stronger than I. I am also expected to add to that honor by bringing healthy, strong warriors to our domain, which I thought I had done until recently.
The boy's eye color, or rather, his lack of it, was ignored until he began to walk. The crèche's guards became suspicious after he continually ran into weapons, people, and walls. One of our Master Shapers, perhaps the most respected one, tested this child and informed me of this cursed child's blindness.
Sight, of all that is holy and blessed! A warrior's vision is his soul, his essence, his being! Is this dishonor Yun Yammka's punishment for my absence from his ceremony two years ago or had I angered another god?
None can enter a domain's crèche without passing through the domain's head. Because of this cursed weakling, my domain, its head, and I were, and in some ways, still are dishonored. A domain's crèche is to be strong, and yet, in ours, there was a soulless shell of a warrior, humiliating us, as in my entire domain, before all others.
As was expected, my people, especially the head of my domain, became wrathful and called for immediate atonement for this latest sin.
Once begun, the growth of a work cannot be reversed, but the work can be destroyed. According to tradition, I was to wait for the priests of Yun Shuno to come and take this soulless one to the Thousand-Eyed's altar, but a look at this child sparked something, most likely compassion, in me. He was a warrior, born of generations of warriors, and like the others of his kind, he deserved a warrior's death.
I fail to understand why, but my hand trembled as I unsheathed my couffee and gave this child what he deserved, for I am not to withhold from the gods.
Endnote: If this violates the PG rating policy, PM me and I'll move the story.