Star
Pt. 2
By the Dathomiri Chick
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN STAR WARS!!! Are you happy, evil, accurrsed,
lawyers of George Lucas?
***************
Gemma looked at the lists of washouts carefully, hoping that her name
wasn't on it. The petite blonde with intelligent gray eyes had noted that the other
canidates, being men, were crowded around the lists of canidates who had made
it, and the lucky ones' assignments. She scanned the washout list and not seeing
her name on it, didn't let a shout of joy slip, but rather a slight smile. It wouldn't
do to show any emotion in front of the others. She didn't quite understand why
she couldn't, but just knew she must never show emotion. A little creepy, perhaps,
but emotion shows vulneribility. She had known that from all of her mother's lady-
lessons, her mother the proper lady.
*flashback*
"Gemma, don't sit like that. It makes you look like a boy."
"Mother, none of the boys I know sit like this. They sit like this," she
said slouching into the chair that she had earlier tossed her feet over the sides of
carelessly, a most comfortable position in which to read her book about TIE fighters.
"Gemma, DO not talk back to me! And I don't want you reading that
book. I don't want you to get ideas about joining the military."
"Mother! Dad says that there is nothing more honorable than serving
the Empire! Carn is the Emporer's army," she said angrily, speaking of her
favorite brother. "He's the best lieutenant there ever was, too." she added softly,
thinking of her brother flying his TIE in the 6/37.
"Go to your room," her mother said coldly. "And don't read any more of
this... trash." Her mother took Gemma's book and, with a look of distaste, threw it
in the garbage chute.
*end flashback*
Gemma sighed as she thought of Carn. She had spent so much time with
him when they were growing up. He had been 5 years older than she was, so she
was just his "cute little sister" and he had never minded when she bothered him,
even in front of his friends. Carn had died a year ago, as a proud son of the Empire.
Gemma inwardly scolded herself for thinking such gloomy thoughts when
she should be finding out what her assignment is. She pushed into the group in
front of the list and searched for her name. She found it, but didn't react when she
read her assignment.
Gemma Star, the flyGIRL had made it into the Emporer's elites. The 181st
Fighter group. The 6/181, to be precise. Commanded by Turr Phennir. She_was_
in_Colonal_Soontir_Fel's_wing.
She was jolted out of her awed musings by the cruel, taunting voice of
another cadet (cadet now, not a canidate!) "So, Shooting Star, did you find your
name? Maybe you'd have better luck on the washout list, Shooting B****."
"Actually, Canidate Garen," she sneered, accentuating the canidate, "I'm
in the 4/181st. What squadron are you in? Did you find your name? I'm sure you'd
easily find on the washout list."
He sneered back. "So am I, Shooting B****. And I will do everything I can
to make sure you are out of my squadron faster than a 'shooting star'. And faster
than you get a customer on the street."
Garen turned purposefully on his heel and left. Gemma heard a few
snickers. "You go, Shooting Star," said a Cadet Haran, "Shoot Garen down. Just
like you do in the sims."
-To be Continued...
Okay, that chapter was dark. More will come! The romance is later.
Pt. 2
By the Dathomiri Chick
Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN STAR WARS!!! Are you happy, evil, accurrsed,
lawyers of George Lucas?
***************
Gemma looked at the lists of washouts carefully, hoping that her name
wasn't on it. The petite blonde with intelligent gray eyes had noted that the other
canidates, being men, were crowded around the lists of canidates who had made
it, and the lucky ones' assignments. She scanned the washout list and not seeing
her name on it, didn't let a shout of joy slip, but rather a slight smile. It wouldn't
do to show any emotion in front of the others. She didn't quite understand why
she couldn't, but just knew she must never show emotion. A little creepy, perhaps,
but emotion shows vulneribility. She had known that from all of her mother's lady-
lessons, her mother the proper lady.
*flashback*
"Gemma, don't sit like that. It makes you look like a boy."
"Mother, none of the boys I know sit like this. They sit like this," she
said slouching into the chair that she had earlier tossed her feet over the sides of
carelessly, a most comfortable position in which to read her book about TIE fighters.
"Gemma, DO not talk back to me! And I don't want you reading that
book. I don't want you to get ideas about joining the military."
"Mother! Dad says that there is nothing more honorable than serving
the Empire! Carn is the Emporer's army," she said angrily, speaking of her
favorite brother. "He's the best lieutenant there ever was, too." she added softly,
thinking of her brother flying his TIE in the 6/37.
"Go to your room," her mother said coldly. "And don't read any more of
this... trash." Her mother took Gemma's book and, with a look of distaste, threw it
in the garbage chute.
*end flashback*
Gemma sighed as she thought of Carn. She had spent so much time with
him when they were growing up. He had been 5 years older than she was, so she
was just his "cute little sister" and he had never minded when she bothered him,
even in front of his friends. Carn had died a year ago, as a proud son of the Empire.
Gemma inwardly scolded herself for thinking such gloomy thoughts when
she should be finding out what her assignment is. She pushed into the group in
front of the list and searched for her name. She found it, but didn't react when she
read her assignment.
Gemma Star, the flyGIRL had made it into the Emporer's elites. The 181st
Fighter group. The 6/181, to be precise. Commanded by Turr Phennir. She_was_
in_Colonal_Soontir_Fel's_wing.
She was jolted out of her awed musings by the cruel, taunting voice of
another cadet (cadet now, not a canidate!) "So, Shooting Star, did you find your
name? Maybe you'd have better luck on the washout list, Shooting B****."
"Actually, Canidate Garen," she sneered, accentuating the canidate, "I'm
in the 4/181st. What squadron are you in? Did you find your name? I'm sure you'd
easily find on the washout list."
He sneered back. "So am I, Shooting B****. And I will do everything I can
to make sure you are out of my squadron faster than a 'shooting star'. And faster
than you get a customer on the street."
Garen turned purposefully on his heel and left. Gemma heard a few
snickers. "You go, Shooting Star," said a Cadet Haran, "Shoot Garen down. Just
like you do in the sims."
-To be Continued...
Okay, that chapter was dark. More will come! The romance is later.
