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My new sci-fi, space opera, novella.

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STAR KID A poem by E.G.Seven I am waiting patiently in this cosmic sea. Waiting for something that might not exist. I know I exist. Maybe I’m the only one that does exist. I eat planets and breath supernovas. I drink the souls of suns. Where ever we are from they want us back. But here I am looking for anything, Anyone. Hopeless romance for a star kid.

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STAR WARS Fan fiction: Consumed PT 1 

Yoda had been on his way to exile on the planet Dagobah when he came across a now Imperial Star Destroyer. The Grand Master Jedi would have ignored it and kept going, but he felt a jedi presence on the Destroyer.

He felt through the force that this young jedi was in a state of distress. Possibly being tortured and most certainly being kept for Sidious' own agenda. So the old jedi allowed the empire to tractor beam his Wookie life pod.

"Where are the jedi fugitives hiding?!" the imperial officer demanded.

She stood in front of a younger female human wearing brown jedi robes. The interrogation droid floating above her abused body.

The officer was noticeably losing her patience with the jedi scum wanting nothing more but to kill her. The only thing stopping her was a promotion following her being turned over to Emperor Palpatine.

"Where were you going? Where is your master? Where are the rest of the jedi?" the officer now grew a little red in the face.

"You killed them all." the young jedi rasped as she glanced at her black and silver lightsaber hilt resting on the imperial woman's belt.

As the attack alarm went off throughout the ship the officer heard her communicator speak.

"Sir, we have a situation in the..." the voice was cut off by screams of pain.

The officer brought up holo recording with her back to the door. It showed none other than wanted fugitive Jedi Master Yoda throwing stormtroopers around like wamp rats. The officer panicked as she drew her blaster and opened the cell door. She looked down both sides of the corridor to see dozens of storm troopers shooting at a blur of green and missing every shot.

The lightsaber the imperial had taken from the young jedi began to lift off off of her belt. She attepted to grab it but it was to fast as it flew down the corridor past all the stormtroopers. Thats when the star destroyer went dark.

The alarm came to an immediate hault and the red back up generator lights dimly lit the prison hold corridor. The officer heard only the flicker of lightsaber and then, death. Yoda was slicing and swiftly hacking off stormtrooper limbs with ease. The head of one of the troopers rolled im front of the officer. She was frozen in terror. As she looked up she saw only a short green alien holding a lightsaber a his side atop a mound of dead troopers. The officer quickly shot at the jedi master until her blaster over heated.

Yoda deflected every shot and when the imperial paused the grandmaster ripped her blaster from her hand with a wave of his hand. Yoda closed in on the officer slowly holding the young jedi's green saber im front of him. The woman tripped over the stromtroopers detached head falling to the ground. But before she could land on her back she was pushed into the wall and held there as if by am invisible hand.

From the prison cell walked the young jedi. Her dark hair in front of darker eyes. Yoda could see fury burning in her eyes as she held her right hand up detaining the imperial woman with the force.

"How does it feel to be helpless? To have nowhere to go to know you are going to die?" the jedi had rage and heartbreak in her words.

"Darah," yoda said deeply. "Give into anger you must not.

Darah hated her though. She hated the empire and Palpatine. She hated Vader and the senate for backing the jedi purge. She remembered the clone troopers killing her padawan in front of her. She slaughtered them all giving into the darkside for the first time in her life. It was to late.

Darah closed her raised hand and the officer's body became a fleshy ball of blood and mutilated bone. The young jedi had been consumed by the darkside. Yoda could see it in the red of her eyes.

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"I ate civilization. It poisoned me; I was defiled. And then," he added in a lower tone, "I ate my own wickedness."

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My book is still available for free until midnight tomorrow. 

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About The Author

I just turned 30 years old this year, which has thrown me into a further existential crisis. Not that i needed any help with that. Let us not start in 2019 though my friend. Jump into a time machine with me and let us go back to the early 90’s. The golden age of the modern world. Where I was inspired to become the writer I am now.

The first form of entertainment I can remember falling in love with was THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK.That movie changed my life. I grew obsessed with Star Wars in full. Its rich lore, ideas of good and evil, even story. I sketched as a kid, so I drew lightsabers and made up my own characters. My mom started buying me Star Wars books that took me almost no time to read. Soon after, I discovered the world of video games. I played Super Nintendo a lot, but didn’t catch my addiction until I was given a grey brick Gameboy. Then there was the alternate dimension known as Japanese anime. From Akira to Princess Monokoke. Don’t get me started with Dragonball z.

I was still a growing sketch artist. I even started drawing a comic book instead of school work at school. That is until my 6th grade english class. The teacher told us to make a short story. Something in me woke up after being given this assignment. I cant explain it. It was like I was hearing a voice calling to me in the reaches of deep space. So I wrote a short story. I cant remember what it was called, but it was about a young man helping a mermaid while trying to hide her from his pirate crew. It was okay I guess. I slowly began a habit of writing after that. The same year 9/11 happend. I witnessed it on some news channel in that same english class. I still cant believe we were allowed to watch it.

My family moved to Louisville, Ky that year from Elizabeth Town. I was in the 7th grade and was given another writing assignment. Write a poem. Again I heard that voice. But now it was louder. Thinking back on it now, I realize that 9/11 hit me harder than I thought. My poem was about a soldier surviving a war. My teacher approached me after we turned them in. I thought I was in trouble, but it turns out she wanted to use my poem as an example to show future classes. For all I know its still there, in that 7th grade class today.

Lets fast forward to high school where my puberty was on 10 all the time. I was starting to write more as well as draw. The two hobbies began to blend together. i was consuming books and shows and movies and comics at an accelerated rate. School wasn’t my thing though. i don’t think it was because i wasn’t smart or whatever. I think it was because it was boring. Because it is. Relationships with girls and a difficult home life made me write and draw a lot. In fact, I wrote poetry more often. Expressing my teenage angst. Before I was 18 I left home.

I started working, got a job and my own apartment. I worked at Mc Donalds in the bottom of a children’s hospital. Then got a second job working at a UPS warehouse. I ended dropping out of school my senior year. Had no intention of going back. That is until I realized that I was running out of gas at 19. Working 2 jobs to pay for an apartment I couldn’t afford. So I got a GED then showed up at a recruiting office with an afro and a fry smelling Mc D’s uniform. I ended up becoming an M1-A1 Abrams tank crewman. What I didn’t know was that I would be doing my basic training 30 minutes from where I had lived. Ft. Knox, Ky. The very place I was born. So my wait to get out and travel had been postponed.

While in basic training however, the voice of writing was now screaming. So, while training i wrote. i wrote letters home and plots, characters for stories. Basic was harsh. But I got through it. My first duty station was Ft.Irwin, California. Being from the south the state of California was mind blowing. The only thing that sucked was the base was located in the Mojave desert, 30 miles from civilization. It was there that I was able to afford to consume more media. Buy comics and books. Download anime and movies.Play video games when we weren’t training for 3 weeks a month, every month. I met a really good friend in Cali. He became like a brother to me. But before we could reenlist together he was killed in a car accident Super Bowl morning of 2010. I needed to get out of Cali. Out of America. So I reenlisted by myself for Korea.

Again i am a southern kid from Kentucky, so flying to another country was both frightening and amazing. The flight was 15 hours. I remember an elderly Korean woman asking me something in Korean and not knowing at all what she was saying. Camp Casey, Korea was a few miles south of the DMZ. It was in the center of a small exploited town called Dongducheon. Being an anime and kung fu movie fan, I loved it. Everything. The culture, the food, clothing. Koreans seemed to be a lot more passive than americans as well. It was nice. Seoul is basically an asian New York. It was always alive. I went to college while in Korea taking a language and culture class.It made things like traveling and really anything far easier. In Korea the voice was now stomping the writer in me. It was gnawing at my brain.

“Write!” the voice yelled.

So I did. I wrote 2 full books and several short stories while still in the army. One of which was my now published novella Revolutopia. As time went on the voice chose to exit the army for me. It wasn’t for me anymore. Especially seeing everything behind the scenes. Nah, I’m good. So I retired at 23. Moved back home and the voice made me self publish Revolutopia. I’ve written and published since then. That voice has only gotten louder since then. It wasn’t until recently that I realized what that voice was.

It was me. It was always me.

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My ebook is free until midnight.