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Welcome
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Nathaniel Reed's
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:: An ongoing episodic story of fan-fic set after Episode VI Return of the Jedi, and inspired by George Lucas' historical draft concepts ::
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| November 2023 |
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Resuming artwork and writing for the Virtual Edition
30th November 2023 |
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After a brief hiatus, I have found time to resume the Virtual Edition project, with artwork for Episode VII The Plague of Doom and further writing for Episode XI. I had noticed that some older artwork utilising the old 'Flash' animation software now does not work any more, so will have to recreated, either as animations once more, or as single images - I will aim to do this once the remaining images have been completed.
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The latest artwork for the illustrated virtual edition of Episode VII : Plague of Doom presents our heroes reconnecting following their victory at the Battle of Kessel in Aquilae Base on Mon Calamar. Luke and Mon Mothma congratulate Alana Seren on her help at the Imperial Palace, and then the Alliance leader invites Luke and his sister Leia to a private talk regarding their mother....
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| You can see the VE artwork in the 'Mon Cal' art gallery as well as in the online illustrated story, and you can discuss this in the forum here ! |
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| As I did with the progression of the Virtual Edition Episode X, I will post below sections of the prose for Episode XI as I draft it.... |
Master Jedi Etoille Art-Lec was a tall human who wore his shaggy dark brown hair and thick beard with pride. He was a select member of the Rangers, Luke Skywalker’s cadre, a recently formed group who submitted fully to the whill of the Force, letting it guide them as they roamed freely among the stars. The Force steered them to communities in need, and the Jedi would divine the help that they could offer.
In this manner, Etoille, accompanied by a small trans-vocabulator hover-droid, had been summoned to Vytall, a fertile agri-world in the Outer Rim. Although prosperous with several space ports dotted around the planet, its communities continued in a simple almost medieval lifestyle. A clan structure existed that provided regional leadership and recognised duties. The primary families took the self-styled monikers of royalty, though in the context of Galactic significance these kings, queens, princes, and princesses held no sway whatsoever ; but within the regional vytalli they were absolute monarchs. The indigenous population moved on three trunk legs, and bore six to eight tendril arms, depending on gender ; what passed as a head was a petalled pistil, with stamen at the ends of freely moving filaments, and a central stigma acting as an all-purpose ‘mouth’.
The robed stranger had followed the whispers of the Force, and had ingratiated himself within one northern community. A series of recent ground tremors had broken the irrigation systems of the Frutex clan, and they were grateful for the outlander’s strategic and engineering eye in rebuilding, and improving, the water courses in the terraced fields.
In doing so, he had learned that, in the last few months, one of the clan’s younger princesses, Rosae, had been abducted by a neighbouring clan, as bargaining leverage over a territorial issue. Rather than negotiate, the Frutex had ambushed a corresponding prince of the feuding clan, and now held him as a hostage-guest, awaiting the next move. To Etoille, the patriarchs of both clans seemed particularly obtuse and unyielding, and he realised that neither scion would ever return home in the near future.
Etoille had proposed that, as one who was independent of the local politics, he could escort the prince to his own clan, and request the princess in return, thus peacefully bringing an end to the unnecessary tension. The clan-king had agreed, and Etoille, followed discretely at a distance by the clan menfolk, had made his way across the pastures and valleys to the fortified town of clan Radex.
Now, Etoille and the young prince were sat in a booth at a drinking bar, waiting patiently for the spokesperson of clan Radex to arrive. The hover-droid, a simple TRN-L8-2 model, yellow-hued, floated to the side of Etoille’s head. The prince’s stamen darted left and right, the boy clearly on edge and anxious, gripping a beaker of brown liquid tightly in his tendril digits. In contrast, Etoille sipped calmly at his beverage, basking in the whispers of the Force. On such a richly ecological world, the Force sang in ecstasy.
“Viridis, relax,” mumbled the Jedi to the young Vytalli. “You will soon be reunited with your folk. All will be good.”
The tavern was built from harvested timber and stone and metal, in green and brown hues. Furry mosses adorned many of the surfaces in thick patches ; Etoille had the impression they too were sentient, and probably possessed some sort of mobility. A handful of other plant creatures were sat at tables and booths nursing their drinks and mumbling quietly at each other. The Jedi Master sensed no immediate threat from them.
Etoille perceived a growing commotion in the back rooms of the tavern, and surmised that his hosts were about to arrive. Aware of the Frutex menfolk positioning themselves just outside the town, he hoped that the Radex clan would see reason and appreciate a calm resolution.
The Force nudged for Etoille’s attention, and the Jedi slipped his eyes towards the bar-tender. The wide-girthed plant-creature had all eight tendrils nervously animated, some tapping on the counter top, others wiping a beaker.
A back door near the bar slid open with a muffled hiss, and three Vytalli entered with the characteristic loping gait of the front two trunks shuffling forward, and the rear balancing and catching up. Two of them casually held laser rifles across their torsos, cradling them in their tendrils.
Etoille sensed Viridis tense, so he gently rested his fingers on one tendril. He nudged calming pulses from the Force into the youngster.
The lead Radex Vytalli came straight across to the booth where Etoille and Viridis sat. The hover-droid L8 slid between Etoille and the Vytalli with a softly unobtrusive activating hum and blue light.
The newcomer clicked and rustled inner petals as speech directed at the youngster.
Immediately L8 piped up : “Viridis, how are you ?”
The young prince nodded, and his head petals flickered as he clicked and rustled in response.
“I’m fine, father,” translated L8.
The father turned to Etoille, and emitted a series of similar noises.
“I am King Spina of the Radex clan. Thankyou for bringing my son here,” echoed L8.
Etoille briefly dipped his head in respect, and then said, “That is my pleasure, and my duty to you and to all the Vytalli. As a Jedi and a fellow galactic citizen, I wish only peace and mutual respect.”
The father’s torso shuddered and his head petals quivered as he rustled a response.
“Peace and respect is all we seek,” announced L8. “It’s a pity the Frutex clan don’t share the same views.”
Etoille cocked his head to the side, pausing as he gauged these words. He wasn’t entirely sure what King Spina meant, but there was certainly a subtext to be aware of. He used the comment as an opportunity to ask after the princess, Rosae.
“How is the Frutex clan princess ? I was hoping to see her, and ask for her safe exchange in return for your son.”
More clicks and rustles provided the answer.
“She is well, and she is here,” the hover-droid responded. “You have honoured your side of the agreement. I will call for her to be brought forward.”
Viridis tensed once more and softly quivered, which did not go unnoticed by Etoille.
King Spina tilted his petalled head back and emitted louder clicks and hisses. One of the rifle-bearing Vytalli turned around and exited through the door they had entered.
The father stretched out two tendrils, beckoning his son to rise and offering a handhold. Viridis took the tendrils in one of his own and rose up on his three short stubby trunks. He shuffled around the booth table.
With a broad smile on his face, Etoille also rose to his feet, and stepped past the small table.
The door at the back of the tavern opened once more and three Vytalli shuffled through : the rifle-bearing one returned, leading two others, one of whom was clearly holding the other secure in some of its tendrils. The hostage’s head petals were a yellow colour, edged with pinks, and her body trembled with fear.
The prince’s head petals flickered when he saw her, but he remained silent.
The king gestured with a tendril, and clicked and rustled from deep inside his torso.
“See ?” clarified L8. “She is here. Safe and well.”
The guard led the princess forward, and her head petals turned towards the prince who was only a step or two away, on the other side of his father.
The king swept his attention around the tavern and generated further noises.
“She may find peace with her Frutex clan folk,” announced L8.
At that, the king gestured with a tendril, and in a whip-like instant, one of the guard’s tendrils that he had kept hidden behind his back flicked around into view, a flash of metal glinting in the dull light ! The knife arced around toward the centre of the princess’ torso...
Etoille flicked out his left arm, and at the same time his right hand twirled his lightsabre into view with a snap-hiss !
The tendril gripping the thin blade was thrown wide, and as it did so, the green laser sword sliced through the air and through the handle, sending the sliver clattering away.
The rifle-bearing guards quickly brought their weapons to bear, and were quick enough to send off a volley of blasts. Etoille pivoted in quick succession, deflecting the blasts into the tavern walls. He was dimly aware of the mosses suddenly activating and slithering away to the far corners of floor and ceiling !
The Jedi took a wide step towards one rifler, closing the gap, and rotated his sword slicing the weapon in half and silencing it. Without pause, he flicked the sword vertically to shield his back as two shots crashed towards him, then he pivoted once more and deflected several more shots.
Now, two of the customers on either side of the Inn had risen to their feet, and were aiming hand blasters at the Jedi Knight. Of course, more guards planted within the tavern before he had even arrived ! A salvo of small arms fire rang out from either side of him, so Etoille stepped neatly to the side, away from the king, the prince, and the princess, whipping his sword out wide.
He skilfully deflected one shot back towards one of the plant creatures toting a blaster, who slumped backwards into his chair. Turning once more, he bounced another shot into the remaining rifler.
A shower of blasts from the last blaster caught him off guard, and one deflected shot grazed the king, spinning him to the floor. Etoille pushed out his hand, and the blaster-Vytalli was thrown forcibly out of the window into the plaza outside.
Silence descended.
Etoille glanced around, and the bar tender raised his tendrils in supplication. The remaining customers, who had collapsed to the floor in safety, were now cautiously clambering to their feet once more.
The Jedi looked at the fallen king, and then to the prince.
“I’m sorry, Viridis,” he declared, “but he is only injured. Let us leave now, and no more shall suffer.”
But Viridis instead took Rosae in his tendril arms, and clicked and rustled animatedly.
“He deserves his fate !” answered L8. “I have Rosae once more, that is all that matters !”
In response Rosae wrapped her tendrils about the prince’s torso, and nestled her petalled head into the side of his.
Realisation dawned on Etoille.
“You two are pledged to each other ?!”
Both Vytalli nodded their large heads.
And in that moment the Force nudged at Etoille’s consciousness : these two, together, were the future of their clans.
“Come, let’s get you both out of here. Give you space to decide what to do next.”
Leaving the fallen king on the floor and moaning, with the tavern customers hesitantly moving towards him, Etoille led the two youngsters out of the building. The four-berth
speeder that had brought the Jedi and the prince to the town sat parked outside. They clambered on board, and L8 fastened itself to the hull of the vehicle. Seeing the prince with them, the townsfolk and the king’s guard held back from impeding them. The Jedi flicked the activator switches, and the speeder whined into life. He steered the cruiser away from the tavern and accelerated for the open gateway.
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| Nathaniel Reed, 31st October 2023 |
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