This is my first Star Wars story and I would love to see your guys's feedback on what I'm doing right or wrong! In case there's any confusion it's my take on the forming of the Galactic Republic and the rebuild of the Jedi. I know how confusing that sounds but later in the story much more will be revealed! Thank you for reading and please leave some reviews!
Chapter 1: The Old Man
Some say there is no greater pain than losing a loved one.
Some say there is no greater pain than losing a bar fight.
Just recently, Daxon Skywalker lost both.
Another blow to the face was almost enough to make Daxon Skywalker beg for mercy. Almost. You see Daxon, much like any Skywalker, was stubborn. Stubborn enough to never accept defeat. So what would a normal man do when he was presented with a slim to none chance of winning this bar fight? They would drop to their knees and beg for mercy, like what the thugs had told Daxon to do. But Daxon was no mere man. He was a Skywalker.
So yes he lost the bar fight and was thrown from the crowded bar. He literally was thrown. He was immediately struck with the heat of the paved street for it reflected the heat of Tatooine's twin suns fairly well. The thugs from inside the dark and shady bar just stood in the doorway and laughed as poor Daxon jumped from the heat of the stone. After feeling that they got their fill of amusement, the thugs retreaded into the bar.
Daxon was a wreck. Oh, he had been a wreck before but now he was officially a wreck. He was unsure when he would hit rock bottom before but now he was sure. Daxon Skywalker had hit rock bottom. He dragged himself out of the street and under the canopy of one of the many shops that lined Mos Catspa's busy streets. He just wanted to get out of the heat. The heat, that day, seemed magnified by one-thousand.
After successfully taking shelter under the shady canopy Daxon looked out, on to the street, in an attempt to get his bearings. What he saw nearly stopped his heart. Empty. The street was empty. Of all the years Daxon had lived in Mos Catspa he had never seen the streets empty. He remembered being a young boy and counting all the different species of aliens that passed through the crowded trading city until he lost count. But not that day.
He looked up and down the street in an effort to find a reason behind its sudden vacancy. No sand storm. No invading gang. No bantha stampede. Nothing. Daxon leaned back, utterly perplexed. He couldn't get his mind around why the street was so desolate. That's when he saw the old man.
This old man looked like any other old man. Bald, with an exception of a long white beard that draped from his lower jaw. He wore, old, tattered gray robes, looking as though they had seen plenty of action. He had a thick wooden walking stick that supported his weight as he hobbled his way down the street.
"Foolish old man." Daxon muttered to himself, "doesn't he know how dangerous it is to travel through Mos Catspa alone?" That's when it hit him. A devilish grin sprouted on Daxon's face, for Daxon did not see an old man, no, Daxon saw a chance. A chance to pull himself out of rock bottom.
Daxon pulled out his small blaster pistol from his belt and clutched it close to his body as he squeezed himself farther into the shadows. He waited for the old man to hobble past and then he stood up and revealed himself to the suns. He followed silently behind the old man, getting closer, and closer, and closer, until he was right behind him. Daxon dug his pistol into the old man's back and said these words, "I don't want any trouble, I just want your money."
This is Daxon Skywalker:
A 16-year-old boy who never lost his childish sense of adventure. He was raised on Tatooine but as far as he knew he wasn't born there.
"You were born on the same planet your father died on." His mother would always tell him, never specifying the planet. But Daxon was smart enough to know when to push and when to leave it alone. He knew how sensitive his mother got when talking about his father.
He grew up on the outskirts of Mos Catspa, in a small three room mud brick house. Beneath the mud and sand however was a thin DuraSteel layer to support the "house" further. He spent most of his days helping his mother with the small store she owned deeper in the city. She sold goods from off planet that she finds lying around in the dune sea. Most of the goods came from shipwrecks that landed there or from dead travelers that never made it across.
"Did you see any Sand People?" Daxon asked her one time when she returned from her trip to the sea.
"Sand People?" His mother would ask, "That's just an old farmer's myth."
When he wasn't helping out at Claire's Off-World Good's he was down at Mos Catspa's ship port to see his friend, Kilo. Kilo was about 25 and was a freighter pilot that transported goods off-world. Daxon wasn't interested in hearing Kilo's old shipping tales (however sometimes he was forced to listen to some) he was more interested in what Kilo could teach him. Kilo could teach him how to pilot ships.
Kilo did teach him the simple stuff, takeoff, banking and swerving, how to activate the shields and counter-guns, etc. Over the years Daxon picked up tools and tricks to piloting. After his first lesson he knew, he knew that he wanted to be a pilot. He wanted to fly around the galaxy, saving lives, seeing exotic worlds, transporting unknown goods. That was the life Daxon wanted to live, and he was determined to live it someday.
However his dream seemed crushed when one day, Daxon was waiting at the ship port for Kilo's return from a run to Adriana, and Kilo didn't return. He didn't return the next day, or the day after that, or ever, for that matter. The last piece of knowledge that Daxon needed to get off that rock known as Tatooine was gone. He needed to know how to navigate in deep space.
Daxon never truly accepted Kilo's death. He just convinced himself that Kilo met a nice girl on Adriana and they settled down, him completely forgetting about Daxon and Tatooine. He wouldn't blame him, Daxon would've done the same thing, given the chance.
One year after Kilo's death, Daxon's mother followed. Claire Skywalker was just cleaning the dishes in their old sink when she just, collapsed. Daxon immediately took her in the speeder straight to the small medical center in the city. The medical droids could not save her.
"She seemed to have truly died long ago." One told him, it's metallic voice bearing no sympathy.
There are no funerals on Tatooine, merely burring the body and being done with it, which is exactly what Daxon did. He attempted to keep the business going in order to be able to pay tax for their house but he was no good. The only real reason anyone went to that shop was to see Claire, but with her, it too died. Being unable to keep up with payments on the house Daxon took as much food and money with him as possible and left the house behind.
He later found a long abandoned house that he took shelter in for a few months. He was forced to sell his speeder in order to buy food. He stayed in that small abandoned house for a long time, until one of the many gangs that thrived on Tatooine drove him out. Daxon had no home, or food, or money.
That's about the time when Daxon began robbing and stealing. He never viewed it as being a bad thing for it provided him with the thrill he had not felt since he drove ships with Kilo. A thrill that is rare on Tatooine. Daxon was planning on using the money he accumulated to buy a ship and take his chances off-world. He continued to pickpocket and steal to get that money. He was fairly good at it until that day at the bar. Daxon saw probably the richest woman on Tatooine sitting in that bar and around her sat thugs that she was talking, or doing some kind of business with.
Daxon walked past her, snatching a piece of gold off of her head dress. He though nobody saw. He was wrong. The thugs beat him, stole the gold piece and whatever other money he had on him, and threw him out.
And that's how he ended up there, a 16-year-old boy who never lost his childish sense of adventure.
Sweat was beating down his brow furiously as he silently waited for the old man to respond.
"C'mon old man all i wa-" in an instant he found his feet knocked out from under him. As he fell to the ground he felt his blaster ripped out of his hands and pointed at his own forehead. He looked up to see the old man looming over him, hold his blaster ready to fire.
"Do I look like I possess any money to you?" The old man asked receiving no answer, "Why, exactly, are you robbing an old man like me?"
"I-I don't know..." Daxon stammered completely puzzled by how a man so old and innocent could have just done that.
"You don't know?" The old man asked, "There is a reason behind everything, boy, you can't just simply not know what you're doing!" He tossed Daxon his blaster and turned around to continue walking, "I know it's none of my business but you shouldn't be robbing old men in the street."
The old man began hobbling back down the street, away from Daxon. Daxon sat there for a moment, frozen, then he got up and jogged ahead to meet the old man in stride.
The old man noticed Daxon come up to him and just grunted, "first you rob me now you chase me, I already told you I have no money!"
"I don't care about your money anymore!" Daxon said, "how on Tatooine did you do that?"
"It is not to hard to best an idiot!" The old man replied, still continuing down the street, "don't you have somewhere to be?"
"Hah!" Daxon laughed, "why do you think I robbed you in the first place? I have no money and no home."
The old man just gave him a sideways glance, "and you were desperate enough to rob a defenseless old man?"
"Well yes." Daxon responded having trouble keeping up with the surprisingly swift old man, "or you could just donate some money to a motherless and hungry child?"
The old man grunted, and fell silent for a while. The silence concerned Daxon. I did it now! he told himself thinking that he had pushed to far.
"If I feed you and shelter you for a night will you leave me alone."
Daxon's eyes lit up, "yes! I won't bother you again! I'll do whatever you need and-"
"Don't push your luck, boy." The old man said and they continued on their way in silence.
After what seemed like ages they arrived at the old man's home. It was a tall two story building, the first story was a small shop that sold nick-nacks of all types, and the second story was the living space. Daxon eagerly followed the old man to the back of the shop and up a flight of stairs into a large room. The room contained two beds, a kitchen area, and the far wall was completely covered in something Daxon had never seen before.
"Two beds?" Daxon asked before realizing how rude it was. He saw the old man wince as though he brought up some old pain, "oh, I-I'm sorry..."
"It's fine lad." The old man said walking up to one of the shelves. He pulled off a picture of a young man and a women, just married. "She was a good women, and a better wife. She knew it was her time when it came." The old man stood there for a few moments, looking longingly into the picture, "well at least now you have a bed!"He chuckled and put the picture down.
Daxon went over to the strange wall, "what are these?" He asked holding up one of those "things"
The old man chuckled and said, "those are books my boy!"
"Books?"
"They are like EStreams except on paper." The old man asked pulling one of the ancient books off of the shelve and opening it up, "see?"
Daxon was perplexed by the book. He could read the words but they weren't digital or projected. They were flat. "Why do you own so many?"
"They are one of the last things that connects this world to the old one, "the old man said putting the book back on the shelve, "they hold knowledge from that world that we've lost along the way."
The old man went into the kitchen area to begin making dinner and Daxon pulled a couple books off the shelve and began reading them on the bed.
"This is so interesting," Daxon said reading a book on Nubian Marine Life, "Where is 'Naboo'?"
"It's a beautiful world." The old man responded, chopping and cracking various foods, "Lush forests and beautiful oceans."
"For-est?" Daxon said perplexed, "O-cean?"
The old man chuckled, "you really need to get off Tatooine."
Daxon closed his book and looked up at the ceiling, as though he could see right through it and into the stars, "that's what I plan to do when I get the money."
"You seem very adventurous. What's your name?"
"Daxon, Daxon Skywalker." He looked over and pretended not to see the old man'd eyes widen for half a second. Half a second too much.
Thank you for reading! I had some technical difficulties while typing this chapter so I hope you enjoyed! Please don't forget to leave feedback and tell me what i'm doing right or wrong!
