Late again. To make a long story short, mid-terms have been very tough. Not to mention it was hell to plan this chapter.
Gundam Chief: I understand completely. Racism is the only kind of hatred that's enough to make me physically ill. When I saw Ku Klux Klan: A Secret History, and Nazi America, my strongest desire was, as you can guess, to cuss by brains out. However, I take comfort in the fact that by writing this story, I get small, yet sweet vengeance.
Sohna: The only reason I wrote the prologue in the first place was to give you guys something to look forward to later. Now it seems I'm just teasing you. So I'll take extra pains to keep you entertained until then as a make-up. And I will definitely take your EU advice.
WARNING! This chapter is EXTREMELY controversial.
xXx
Baghdad, June 17th, 2010
"Papa!" Hakim joyfully cried as his father entered his hospital room, the nurse with the pretty eyes following him.
Gabir Abdel-Rahman beamed at the smiling face of his eight year-old son, trying his best to mask his worries.
The nurse smiled.
"He'll be fine," she said. "Just make sure he takes it slowly for the next couple of weeks."
Gabir nodded and signed the release papers before he and his son exited the hospital. Gabir couldn't help but steal glances at Hakim every few seconds. He knew he was being paranoid, but couldn't help it. Hakim had been bed-ridden for two weeks. The boy had a terminal heart condition that required a pace-maker and had collapsed at school. Gabir had never been so terrified in his life. He had lost his wife five years ago and the thought of losing Hakim was unthinkable.
With a sigh Gabir tried to calm himself. Allah had blessed his son with a good recovery, and he should be thankful for it rather than worrying over what might happen next.
"Papa, everything is very green," Hakim suddenly spoke. "It wasn't like that a year ago."
Gabir smiled. It was true. Baghdad now had a decent amount of rain due to a strange shift in the global rain patterns over the past year. Now parts of the Middle East and North Africa were as green and grain rich as the mid-west and Ukraine. Iraq was now one of the biggest exports of organic produce, especially ostrich.
"Things are changing, my son. For the better. I think Allah is answering our prayers at last."
"Everyone's less afraid," Hakim said. "I can see it in their faces. Is it because the Wahabi lost their power?"
"Partly," Gabir responded. "The massive tsunami from the Persian Gulf and the Mediterranean that heavily damaged both Israel and Saudi Arabia came before the Energy Revolution. Many expressed their sincere regrets that it did not come after as many lives could have been saved, but the good that resulted from it…"
"What good?" his son prompted.
"Many survivors of the tsunami centered along the northeastern coast of Africa. Aide workers were sent from Israel and Turkey but Hamas and the Hezbollah tried to interfere. They were annihilated by the Lebanese and Jordanians. This lead to the Sunni and Shiite alliance to protect the aid workers which was the beginning of the process of healing generations old wounds. Eventually the Quran was reinterpreted and the alliance became permanent. Also in honor of Benazir Bhutto, there has been a rise of female sheiks."
"What happened next?"
"Israel was recognized as a sovereign state by its neighbors. In return, Israel and Egypt reached a land agreement where they ceded parts of the Sinai Peninsula and Gaza as territory for the Palestinian states."
"The Palestinians finally have a homeland, don't they?"
"Yes."
Hazim smiled. "I'm glad for them. Papa?"
"Yes?"
"I heard something in school before about a Clean Energy Revolution. What does it mean?"
"It has to do with the Electro Compacts."
Hakim frowned. "What?"
"Nearly two years ago an American company called Clean Energy Productions invented a device that can transform garbage into pure energy. Months after it was released to the world public energy no longer became a commodity."
"So things like oil and gasoline are barely used now, right?"
"Correct."
"That's the reason why the Americans left, isn't it?"
Gabir stared at his son, surprised and impressed and the same time. "Yes. I never hated the American people even after their soldiers invaded us. They were deceived by their president and his administration."
"I remember," Hakim said. "The president told everyone they were invading Iraq to get rid of weapons of mass destruction and kill terrorists, but what they really wanted was the oil."
"Of course," Gabir couldn't keep the bitterness out of his voice. "War can either suck a country dry of its wealth and resources, or it can be used to gain more wealth and resources. The past American presidential administration was filled to the brim with lying thieves who had done dealings with terrorists in the past including Osama Bin Laden and Al-Quada."
"But the new president isn't like that, is he?"
Gabir smiled. "No, President Obama is not like that. In fact, he's the exact opposite. As you already know almost directly after energy became no longer a commodity, Obama ordered American troops out of Iraq and foiled the Bush Administration's plans to invade Iran. As a result all the money funding Al-Queada dried up and Dick Cheney's Halliburton business went bankrupt."
"I heard that company's men did really bad things to the women employees."
Gabir nodded grimly remembering the story of Jamie Lee Jones, a young American woman who was drugged and gang-raped by KBR Halliburton employees, and then held hostage for twenty-four hours under guard without food or water after being warned that if she 'made a big deal out of it' she would lose her job. There was also Tracy Barker, a woman who claimed she was told by the manager of the camp she was assigned to that if she wanted protection she needed to sleep with him. Afterwards she was sexually assaulted by a state department official. And those were only two of the many cases.
"Yes," he said quietly. "They did." he didn't go into the details as his son was still too young to understand.
"Bad things are happening in America," Hakim said. "I heard about it in school. There are huge storms and earthquakes."
"America is indeed facing very dark times," Gabir said quietly. "Hurricanes and earthquakes have severely damaged quite a few of the states. Louisiana and Florida were almost completely obliterated. Obama had all the citizens there evacuated."
Hakim's shoulders slumped. "That's so terrible. The president's doing all he can though, isn't he?"
"Yes, but he's facing severe problems of his own," Gabir said. "A lot of Americans are convinced that he is their infamous Anti-Christ because when you add the number of letters of his name together, you get eighteen. There are three parts to his name. And what is eighteen divided by three?"
Hakim sighed. "You get three sixes. That's crazy though."
"These people are more than crazy," Gabir said. "They're fanatical lunatics. And they're not the only ones. There are rumors that a new organization has formed based on Christianity and white-supremacy. The rumors include that an American news channel called Fox News is fronting this organization though nothing has been proved yet."
Hakim bit his lip. "I wish we could do something to help them. There's peace here at last, but its not that way there. They deserve peace just a much as we do. I don't blame any of them at all for what the Bush Administration did." He bowed his head, but then brightened. "I know there's not much I can do now, but when I grow up…Maybe I'll run for Prime Minister!"
Gabir chuckled and stared at his son, pride shining in his eyes. Hakim was so intelligent and so compassionate. He never let his condition truly get him down. He knew how to pick himself up, and he knew where to find hope even if there was no hope.
This is the future of Iraq Gabir thought gazing at his son. You will make a difference. I know you will.
"Papa, can you tell me more about Benazir Bhutto?"
Gabir was about to respond when he heard screams erupt around him. Reflexively he pulled his son close to him and looked frantically around. In the middle of the market place was a man holding something in his hand. Gabir couldn't make it out but the man suddenly smiled.
"Allah akbar," he shouted and slammed the object against his forehead.
Bomb Gabir thought. But the EM Generators the Americans set up before they left should disable anything in the vicinity.
Anything…
Horror ripped through him and before he could scream at his son to run, Hakim suddenly coughed violently, spitting out a gob of blood and collapsed on the ground.
Dead.
Gabir bellowed, instantly drawing the attention of the civilians around him who were about to jump the so-called suicide bomber.
"Hakim," he sobbed, cradling the limp body. "Hakim…no…" He looked up, exposing his grief-stricken face. "You…you killed him. You killed my son…"
"No," the man hissed. "It was the Americans. The Americans who never left us alone even after all the damage they did. Its their fault. All their fault!"
"No," Gabir shakily pulled himself to his feet and glared with rage at the suicide bomber. "It was you. You killed my son. YOU KILLED MY SON!"
There was an ear-splitting cry of fury from the intended victims and they all lunged at the man, kicking him, beating him.
Good Gabir thought grimly. Let him suffer. Let him burn in hell. Let him…
He froze when he thought he felt someone squeeze his hand. Gabir glanced down at his son's corpse which was completely unmoving.
Everyone's less afraid. I can see it in their faces.
Gabir looked up and saw the faces of his people who had been smiling before, but were now contorted in outrage, hatred and…
Its just going to go on. Its just going to keep on going and on until we're all dead.
Suddenly all of Gabir's anger vanished.
I don't want this. I don't want to be afraid anymore. I don't want to hate anymore.
The suicide bomber was now bloody and bruised. Three men were now approaching the crowd carrying butcher's knives.
"No," it came out hoarsely. Gabir swallowed and this time shouted. "NO!"
With his son's body in his arms, he ran straight into the crowd, pushing past people until he stood in front of the gravely injured man.
"Stop it," he begged, tears streaming from his eyes. Even through his blurred vision he could see the rage die from the people's faces to be replaced by shock.
"Stop it," he sobbed through the now eerie silence. "Please…just stop it…"
Present day: 2048
"The last thing my son told me…before he died, was that he wanted to become Prime Minister so he could help the American people. He knew that his own country had achieved a peace that had only been a dream merely three years ago. He did not want the position of Prime Minister to maintain that peace, but rather to spread it to his fellow man, outside of his own country, who was desperate and needy. I do not blame the Americans for my son's death, nor do I hold any grudge against them for the sins of their past leaders. I believe that the Americans are our fellow man, and right now, they need assistance. Therefore, I beg you, my brothers and sisters, in the name of Allah, let us go and help our fellow man."
The Vice President of the United States turned off the view screen leaving a breathless silence in its wake. She leaned against the President's desk and smiled at him.
"Its like the painting of a sunset," she said. "You can memorize the exact details, yet it never ceases to enamor you with its beauty and the complexity never truly unravels."
The President raised an amused eyebrow. "Poetic today are we?"
She shrugged. "Just said what first came to mind."
He smiled. She had always been very poetic when she wanted to be. The methods she had used in her past career never left. It was one of the things he admired her for.
"It still seems like a dream," he said quietly. "When Obama got a call not only from Iraq and Iran, but South America, Mexico and Cuba."
"They saved us when they could have robbed us blind," she said. "Unfortunately, we had to go through one more atrocity before we all saw the light."
The President nodded grimly. Back in 2012, a parade had been held in San Francisco in honor of the millions of lives lost in America's Darkest Times. It had been held Christmas day and in inspiration for the Indian festival, Diwali, everyone had carried a glow stick. The Congress of Aryan Alliances had only been a fledgling organization then, yet members had still infiltrated a good deal of the senate, and thanks to the funding from Fox News, they had been able to secretly purchase four cold war era missiles armed with tactical nukes. The parade had been the final straw for the CAA after a group of conservative Muslims had arrived in America whose goal had not been to convert anyone to their religion but rather to accommodate those who were curious about it. They had aimed two at what they called 'the fag parade' and another two at ships filled with Muslim rescue workers. Both targets were spared due to the outdated guidance systems on the missiles yet what they did hit was no less tragic.
The parade had been held close to a large housing area for the families of soldiers at a military base as well as one of the largest hospitals for Gulf War veterans.
Both had been completely obliterated.
The President could still hear the agonize howls and screams for blood from the American people. Hundreds of thousands had stormed Fox News with murder brimming in their eyes, yet the station had been deserted for quite some time. Its employees were currently in hiding, as was the core of the CAA.
"People still want justice," the President said. "God knows they deserve it. But if it means straying away from what should be our first priority, which is the health of the American people, then its not worth it."
The Vice President nodded. "Well said. Some people still may deem us two ancient skeletons who should just kick back and retire, or better yet lay down in our coffins so we can completely decompose," she grinned evilly. "I say we should knock them off their asses and put them in our positions."
The President smiled. She never lost her fire and courage even in the face of true oppression. It was one of the many things about her that would always have his supreme respect.
"Well, they never thought us of all people would win the election, let alone campaign together," he said. "Hell, running for senator was the farthest thing from my mind thirty years ago."
"Same here. But the world began to change for the better after all those crisis's. More people started opening their eyes and wanted to make a personal difference. We just added ourselves to that list in a more…extreme level."
A soft chiming came from the comm on the desk.
"Mr. President, Dr's Anderson and Lexton have arrived."
"Send them in please."
The doors slid open and two men entered. The President had met them before(and was left mentally on his backside when he was informed about the true games that ran American society), but it was important to be kept up to date every few months. Now he wanted a real chance to talk to them. He also had a request as well and hoped they would comply.
"Good evening, Mr. President," Dr. John Lexton greeted. He nodded respectfully at the Vice President. "Miss Vice President."
The President gestured for them to sit. "I thank you for coming here on such a short notice. I was very sorry to hear that your colleagues couldn't make it."
Dr. Anderson smiled. "I'm not ashamed to admit that our girls are basically the main brain power on the realities. They couldn't break away from their work. Not to mention we like to keep at least two of us there if there's outside business to attend to."
The President nodded in understanding. "Now, you told me in your previous call that there were some anomalies in the realities that you needed to report."
"Yes, but let me assure you, Mr. President that they aren't malfunctioning anomalies," said Dr. Anderson. "A person can enter the realities whenever they want even if they aren't online. Errors in the plotline still manifested during the events that the Error Correctors visited their realities at their leisure. But now…they've stopped."
The President frowned. "I beg your pardon?"
"Its completely unexplained, sir," said Dr. Lexton. "But, over a year and a half ago, errors just stopped appearing when the realities were activated yet not truly online," he sighed. "We're not going to lie to you, sir. There will always be burps in the system as the technology isn't perfect. That is in fact why we recruited the Error Correctors in the first place."
The President suppressed the urge to smile as he felt a sudden wave of nostalgia. The show he managed years ago always made the occasional burp and fart joke that never ceased to make the audience laugh.
Those were the days.
"How are they doing? The Fifty, I mean. Are they happy?"
"Very. They're not all best friends, of course. There are plenty of rivalries and dislikes on both sides. Our worst case of outright hostility still hasn't completely let up, but the physical violence is kept to a minimum."
The President knew whom he was referring to. "And there's still no explanation to her previous condition or her new abilities?"
Dr. Lexton answered. "We're still doing tests as we want to know if it develops into something health-threatening. But so far, the readings say she's in perfect health. Thank God."
"She is Error Corrector of the Star Wars reality, correct?"
"Yes."
"She was also the one who was involved with the…" the President coughed feeling a bit uncomfortable. "…issue over a year and a half ago where the reality nearly had to be shut down."
"It wasn't her fault, sir," Dr. Lexton's voice was respectful yet had a slight edge. "No one could have ever anticipated that her relationship with a character like…him would evolve to such extreme levels." he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Regardless, we've decided to take certain precautions so such an incident doesn't happen again. The Error Correctors are now required to document their interactions with the characters and send reports in every day they are in the reality or if they deem something unusual has occurred."
"Like a journal or a diary?" the President asked.
"Something like that."
He paused for a moment before asking. "The Error Correctors are allowed outside the Academy are they not?"
"Of course," Dr. Anderson answered. "We don't believe in keeping them isolated from society. In fact, a few of them are visiting the University Mall right now."
"Well, if possible, I would very much like to meet one or two of them and thank them for all they've done for our society."
Anderson and Lexton looked surprised but not displeased.
"Yes, I think that can be arranged." Anderson said.
"Which would you recommend?"
"Well," Dr. Lexton said. "I would think Claire Selton."
"Claire Selton?" the Vice President spoke for the first time. "She's the prodigy of the Error Correctors isn't she?"
"Yes," there was great pride in Dr. Anderson's voice. "The girl practically inhaled everything that was thrown at her in the combat simulators. Her photographic memory also enables her to tap into the power of the interface to a much greater degree than a normal person could. And her apprentice just so happens to be Harlene Ballantine."
The President smiled in satisfaction. "Well, that's ironic and convenient in the same breath. Just give me a call when you get their answer and I'll arrange a meeting."
xXx
"Its disgusting, its hypocritical, its fanatical, it's a disgrace to the human race. This isn't even an argument at all. Deep down inside, I think the entire point of this is to just to piss people off. I want to destroy it, I want to vaporize it, I want to rip it to shreds, I want to stomp on it," Harlene paused, then turned to Roan. "What do you think?"
"I think that I agree with you from the bottom of my heart," Roan replied with uncanny grimness.
Harlene's eyes pierced the holographic displays before them with undisguised hostility. A Pro-Life group of right-wing nutcases had, in an incredibly ironic twist decided to visit the mall the exact day a group of Error Correctors decided to go on a field trip. The gruesome images of bloody fetuses and body parts were displayed in all their glory, twisting and turning so not a single detail escaped the eye.
But it wasn't the dead fetuses that made Harlene's blood boil. It was that the fucking fanatics who designed this sorry excuse for a argument had the nerve to put abortion in the same category of genocides like the Cambodian killing fields, the Holocaust, and the lynching of blacks.
"'The insanity of choice, eh?" Harlene raised an eyebrow at one of the slogans. "Nice."
"You're right in that this isn't even a real argument," Roan said. "Its completely one-sided and biased. They only show the absolute worst pictures of abortion cases, and they don't care that women would still get abortions even if it were made illegal. If this were a real argument, they would show how a woman looks after she gets a coat-hanger abortion."
"They also don't care that the birth control invented decades ago has stopped a majority of unwanted pregnancies," Harlene added. There mere thought of getting a coat-hanger abortion, or of any woman getting one was enough to make her physically ill. "Of course if it was up to them, that birth control wouldn't even exist. Fucking hypocritical religious fanatics. If rest of the babies born from now on turned out to be gay or Jewish, they would be all for abortion. And look," she pointed to a symbol on one of the holograms. It was Moljner, crossed with a sword engraved in Celtic symbols. "It seems the CAA is making good use of their spies."
"Son of a bitch," Roan nearly hissed.
Harlene turned around when she heard arguing between three teenage girls and two men who were running said disgrace.
"Stop talking about women as if we're fucking cattle! We have our rights so get the fuck out of the mall!"
"You think abortion is an easy decision!?"
"You want to deny people…real people the right to life by getting an abortion."
One of the girls was about to retort but Harlene shook her head at her.
"Don't argue with fanatics. Its pointless. Just let them amuse you," she turned to Roan. "Lets get the fuck out of here."
"Amusing?" a squat elderly woman suddenly approached them looking outraged. "You think this is amusing?"
Yes, I think its fucking hilarious.
Harlene glared at her. "I think its amusing that you're presenting a shallow, biased argument here."
"How is it shallow and biased?" she demanded.
"Well for starters, you're comparing it to the holocaust and lynching. And you're saying its genocide."
"Because it is." she retorted.
"Well, like I said before…" Harlene suddenly sighed cutting herself off. "I'm going."
She walked away. Roan ran to catch up with her.
"What were you going to say?"
"I don't argue with fanatics. But it isn't wise to deliberately antagonize these bastards." she smiled feeling a trace of melancholy nostalgia. "Maybe all that practice in the past left a lasting impression on me."
Roan looked a bit uncomfortable, as if not sure what was the right un-insensitve reply to that.
"Well--"
A beeping suddenly emitted from his comm. He quickly answered it and turned to Harlene.
"Noelle and Jacob are at the food court. They ordered our Subway already."
"Great. I'm starving."
"And Jacob is begging for help in restraining Noelle."
She frowned. "Why?"
"He didn't say, but something tells me we should hurry."
Harlene nodded and the two of them walked as quickly as they could without running to the food court. When they arrived, the loud booming voice told Harlene exactly what was the matter.
"Today is the day to stop your sins and obey Jesus Christ! Do you know why you're going to hell? Because you smoke! Because you masterbate! Because you drink! Because you have sex outside of marriage! Stop your masturbation and smoking and embrace the Lord Jesus Christ!"
"Goddamnit," Roan cursed. "Where are they?"
Harlene looked frantically around. In the middle of the food court was a middle-aged portly man wearing 1940s garb and holding a bible. He wasn't alone. There were a few other people in his group, but there was also a crowd around him which occasionally shouted at him to 'shut up and get the fuck out of the food court'.
"There," Roan pointed to a table near the fanatics and sure enough there was Noelle and Jacob. Noelle's half-eaten sandwich lay forgotten in front of her as she stared with growing fury at the preacher.
"Come on, Elle. Let it go," Harlene heard Jacob say as he swallowed part of his meatball sandwich. "I mean, you gotta admit, its like getting a free comedy show." he looked up when he saw Harlene and Jacob. "Oh, hey guys! We've got teriyaki and beef with Sun Chips!"
"You said it was urgent Jacob," Roan sad reproachfully as he sat down.
Jacob shrugged. "Didn't want to take any chances." he leaned close to Noelle. "Look, I'm sure you've punched out your fair share of Death Eaters and Ministry of Magic fucks even though you haven't started Goblet of Fire yet, so please, just this one time…let it go for Christ's sake."
Noelle raised an incredulous eyebrow at him. "Did you just say "Christ'?"
Jacob just shrugged. "Hey, freedom of speech. Besides, I ain't like them." he jerked his thumb over at the preacher. "I'm beginning to kick myself for expecting more from the CAA."
"You've used the free will that God gave you for sin! You've used it for pre-martial sex and masturbation!"
"This is all from someone who probably jerks off in the shower every night because he can't get himself a good fuck."
Harlene looked up and saw a blonde haired, blue-eyed boy of sixteen with Asian features glaring contemptuously at the preacher.
"Oh, hey, Dimitri," Jacob greeted. "Find anything good in this dump?"
"Nope. But I'm bored to death," he grinned conspritoriously. "How about we have some fun with these guys?"
"Dimitri," Roan said seriously. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves."
"How can you stand this? You know they're CAA!"
"Yes, but we can't prove anything. And our fake ID's can't get us very far if we're arrested."
"Who said anything about doing stuff that could get us arrested?" Dimitri winked. "Watch and learn, boys and girls."
Harlene watched with curiosity as Dimitri casually walked over to the preacher, undid and part of his belt…
…and began jumping around while rapidly moving his hand up and down the short leather strap as if he were--
The crowd stared incredulously for a moment before roaring with laughter.
"Hey, why didn't I think of that?" Jacob jumped up and immediately joined Dimitri in the display.
"Are you going to join them?" Harlene asked Roan after she got control of her own laughter.
Roan looked equally amused, but shook his head. "Not my style."
"These two boys," the preacher was no referring to Jacob and Dimitri who were now pretending to have anal sex with one another. "Are poor lost souls to the Devil, and as an added crime, they are disturbing the peace."
"Distrubing the peace?" Jacob echoed in outrage. "I--WAS JUST--SITTING--HERE--WITH--MY--FRIENDS--EATING--MY--FUCKING--SUBWAY!"
"Do you hear God speaking to you?" Dimitri suddenly asked the preacher.
"Yes, I do," he said.
"Well then, you're a schizophrenic!"
Harlene threw her head back and laughed, having the time of her life. "Oh, come on!" she said when she saw Noelle wasn't laughing. "This is hilarious!"
"You have fun watching those two clowns," Noelle said carelessly. "I'd much rather fantasize killing these bitches."
CAA or not, Harlene knew Noelle hated religious fanaticism above all else. Which she sympathized with completely as she was also a Christain, yet belived that a true follower of said faith embraced and accepted all other religions as well.
"On the day of judgment, God is going to bring up all your sins. The Bible says not knowing the love of the Lord will push you straight to hell. While you're masterbating," he slapped the bible in his hand. "I'm reading the bible. The bible says repent or be kicked," and lord have mercy he literally kicked his own foot to emphasize. "Out of heaven!"
"God, I can't resist this!" Harlene lurched to her feet, glee coursing through her as she ran up to the preacher and said, "Oh, please, that's not a kick."
She set her heel, and snapped her right leg back and out. The crowd applauded along with Jacob and Dimitri. Harlene pointed smugly at the preacher. "Now that's a kick. If they're going to kick us out of heaven, they're going to do it in style."
"Oh really?" the preacher regarded her. "And who taught you how to kick like that, young lady?"
Harlene grinned.
"Darth Maul."
The crowd laughed again and she heard several, "so cute's" and "very adorable's" along with it. Jacob grinned and gave her a thumb's up.
"Okay," the preacher addressed the crowd again. "Now I'm very glad we chose to come here, because right now, I've just discovered that this mall is more hell-bound than I could have ever imagined," he pointed to Harlene. "This child associates herself with Darth Maul. She is no more than twelve, and she fanaticizes about having intercourse with Darth Maul. She dreams at night of having sex with Darth Maul. Of having her sacred virgin barrier pierced by Darth Maul--"
Dimitri grabbed Jacob who was shouting curses and death threats along with the boos from the crowd. Harlene rolled her eyes and walked back to the table. Noelle smirked at her.
"Ready for more drastic action now?"
"Its always the same old thing," Harlene said boredly. "The best insults they can come up with are always related to the same subject: sex. These people are so…damn…lazy. Can't they come up with more original stuff?"
"Because Darth Maul, is the embodiment of the Devil! He tattooed his entire body in red and black, to show his commitment to the Devil. There is nothing he would love more than to sexually violate a twelve-year-old girl until she screams and bleeds and begs for mercy--"
"Noelle?" Harlene inquired in a very, very sweet voice.
"Yes?"
"On the other hand, it'd be a damn shame to let such fat, juicy chew toys go to waste."
Noelle grinned with a sadistic gleam in her eye.
"Recess is over boys and girls."
xXx
As I said before, this chapter was HELL to write. At first, I did a bunch of news reports on how we achieved global stability, and I completely B.S'd my way through them. As I expected when I gave the draft to Dad, I couldn't write a news report to save my life. Maybe when I start a blog or something, I'll ask him to teach me how to write a real news report and I can really show you how we achieved global stability.
Next, I feel I owe my reviewers an apology. I was looking over my responses to you, and I discovered that they were WAY too wooden. When I say I'm glad that you're enjoying my story, what I really mean to say is that I'm 'completely ecstatic, you've just made my day' glad. So I beg your forgiveness if I've seemed unappreciative of you. And I'm also talking to those of you whom I've never even heard from before. In the first draft of TPM, I asked for reviews, but decided to stop as I know it takes time and effort to review, and that people only do so if their schedules permit, or if something in the story needs to be commented on whether its good or bad. I know from experience.
So what I'm trying to say is, whether you review or not, even if you remain a silent reader forever, you guys inspire me, you keep me going, and I wouldn't trade you for anything.(sorry if this sounds mushy, but it needed to be said).
Also, I know I don't have time now to correct the errors(pardon the pun) in TPM, but here are two mistakes that I am well aware of.
First, Maul and Sidious never went inside the Jedi Temple. Its not even open for tourism. And what makes this mistake all the more embarrassing is that I had already read that part in Darth Maul: Shadow Hunter, yet completely forgot about after I posted the chapter.
The next mishap is more justified, yet no less embarrassing. The Twi'Lek guard, Sinya, that I referenced in chapter twelve wasn't exactly flirting with Maul. Rather, she was frisking him. This mistake is more justified because the first time I read this comic was years back, when I was, like, twelve or so, and I vividly remembered thinking 'why the hell doesn't he punch her off him?', and I automatically assumed she had been flirting with him. I only found out I was wrong after I ordered the comic from Amazon weeks after I posted the chapter.
So damn.
Actually, it may work to my advantage when I do corrections. Sinya did frisk him, but she did do it in a flirtatious manner. Not to mention Maul was already in the heart of the Vigo's lair. He didn't have to wait for her to touch him. He could have just whipped his lightsaber out and butchered everyone in two seconds flat. He did do that of course, but only after the Vigo asked him why he had come, and Maul replied, "I came to kill you. ALL of you."
Or maybe he waited just to draw out tension. I don't know.
Well, I'll discuss it with Dad and if you guys want to offer your opinions, feel free to. Oh, and as a side note, I have some talent for drawing and I'm trying to develop it so in a couple of years, I can add some fan art to this.
You will also note I changed the summary to this story. My reason is I felt it seemed kind of Mary-Sue-ish to those who have never read TPM. I don't want potential readers scared away by it.
Anyway, stay tuned! We've got one more chapter to go before the good Star Wars stuff starts!