“Oh the poor creature,” said the girl.

She put down her flowers and walked over to where the horse stood beneath the trees. The horse saw her and reared up when she almost touched the arrow.

“It’s okay” she said,“I’m here to help you”

The horse relaxed and let her come closer, she saw the arrow all red from the horse’s bleeding. She set her teeth, planted her feet, took hold of the arrow with both hands, and pulled. The horse neighed so loudly that she covered her ears, but then she found she was holding the arrow. She had expected the horse to run away as soon as she removed the arrow, but it didn’t. It stood staring at her and then something so incredible happened that the girl could hardly believe her eyes. The horse grew smaller, and smaller until it was barely as tall as she was. It’s front legs changed to hands and it’s face became that of a human in all ways except one. His ears were pointed, he was dressed in green and his green eyes were so bright that she could not stare into them for long. But what she did see in his eyes were tears, tears of joy and thankfulness. He smiled and bowed, a most beautiful bow and said,

“Fair daughter what do you wish you had?”

She looked up at the stars, he grinned happily and without even having to be told what she wanted he said,

“It shall be so”

As he spoke the words slowly, they came out of his mouth and formed just above his eyes and became real. He breathed on the words and they broke apart into a thousand tiny points of light and fell into his hands. However they never touched his skin but seemed to float just above his hand. The Puca, whose eyes never blinked and whose black hair fell gently over his forehead touched two fingers into the handful of stars. He took a step closer to the girl and he placed the tips of those two fingers on her eyes. She blinked, nothing seemed different the elf led her over to a pool and she could see the reflection of his green eyes in the water.

“See fair daughter, the stars are thine forever.”

She leaned over the water and looked, she drew in her breath. The night sky seemed dim against the light now in her eyes, a thousand sparks flooded her blue eyes with light brighter then the night sky itself. She now realized what the elf had done. He had truly given her the stars to keep for her own, he had taken the stars from the sky and placed them in her eyes.

“There” he said, “Now your eyes too shine like those of the elves, but I have one more gift for you.”

He took the stars he still had in his hand and taking up a solid black rock from the ground he filled the smooth rock with stars.

“Now even when you are not there you can still share your stars with others.” He said.

She opened her mouth to thank him, but the Puca had already become a horse again and now great green sparks came from his nostrils and mouth as he thundered through the forest and disappeared into the trees. She blinked again not sure if she hadn’t dreamed the whole thing, she went over to the pool and looked in. Her eyes still shone and the small rock which she was now holding shone as well.

After this, men came from miles around to see the girl with the shining eyes. When her parents died she and her husband and daughter came to live in the cottage near the woods where she saw the Puca. One day she and her daughter were walking through the woods enjoying the fresh air.

“Mother may I go pick some flowers?” she asked pointing towards the area where she herself years ago had met the Puca.

“Yes dear, go ahead.”

The young girl skipped of towards the flower bed near the pond. Her mother continued walking and remembering the gift that the elf had given her. She took the rock from a pocket in her skirt and stared at it remembering that night and still wondering if it could have been a dream. She walked back to where she had left her daughter and found that she was not alone. A great black horse stood next to her, it’s eyes glowed a florescent green. Seeing the girls mother it took off into the direction of the wood. The young girl walked back over to her mother and something about her looked different, and now for the first time her eyes too were filled with stars.

“Mother the horse said he gave me the stars, what did he mean?”

“Okay here’s the plan.” the agent named Johnson barked. There were four people including Steven in a white van a few blocks from the safehouse. The safehouse was in a quiet community.

“Obviously they will be monitoring the house, so we only have a few minutes before their camera sees us and we have to escape. Steven, where is the device located and how long will it take to download the data?”

Steven replied “Most likely up to 7 or 8 minutes.”

“Okay gentlemen, safety’s off. If possible, try to stall for time instead of having a shootout. Lets go.”

The driver made his way to the house. They all got out of the van and ran towards the house. Agent Johnson kicked in the door and checked the rooms. It was clear. Steven ran to his computer in his secret compartment and began downloading the data on to a new CD.

Johnson “How much longer?”

“About 5 minutes.”

Just then agent Kevin ran through the front door.

“We have a problem, the police scanner just reported us. Swat is going to be here any minute.”

With sweating hands, Steven replied, “Almost there.”

Suddenly, a loudspeaker sounded ” Come out with your hands up, you have 5 minutes.”

Steven said “Great, that should be more than enough.”

Johnson said “One of us should stay behind to provide as a distraction.”

“I will.” Agent Kevin volunteered. “It is an honor to die for the cause.”

Steven thought, “They really sound like terrorists.”

When he was finally done, he grabbed the CD and motioned for the agents to follow him into the basement.

“I always knew this would come in handy. This house belonged to my grandfather, this is a bomb shelter but it has a backdoor that leads to the sewer. From there we should be able to get to the van.”

As they got into the car they heard a huge explosion. Steven looked to see that a bomb had been detonated right on his house.

“Who are you?” asked Steven.

“My name is Elizabeth Moore, I am the leading agent on this case.”

“I’m sorry I don’t understand.”

“According to our sources, your government has been testing chemical weapons on innocent civilians in Nigeria. We haven’t been able to prove this until now. Do you have the package?”

“Yes, here it is.” Steven handed her the disc.

“Good, we need you to uncrypt the data. We have a computer for you right here.”

After 3 long hours it was done. Steven told her “Half of the data on the CD I had was corrupt, but I have a backup drive at my safehouse.”

“Alright, so how soon can we get there?” she asked her assistant.

Steven exclaimed “What?! I was just attacked at my hotel, and you want to go to my safehouse? It’s probably under surveillance!”

She said “There isn’t time. We will have to send two of our best agents with you.”

After much arguing, she finally got him to reveal the safehouse location.

“Okay next morning asap, we are going to go get that drive. In the meantime there is a room in the back, you can stay there.”

Steven thanked her and went to bed. He could finally think, so much had happened all in a few days. “What did I get myself into? How could this happen to me?” wondered Steven. One minute he was trying to make a living and the next he was being attacked by a CIA agents. As he fell asleep he knew he had to make a choice with what he had found out on the data.

Granted this desert was a sandy one, and trekking it proved to be considerably more difficult than my past experiences with the rocky, dusty deserts of my homeworld. I didn’t enjoy it. Discovering that the system I had landed in was fueled by two suns only added to my enthusiasm. At least the days were short.

Night of course was not much of an improvement. The darkness in these regions were of an extreme variety, and several new types of insects and other, more intimidating creatures found me on their nocturnal hunts. I did manage to kill a large beetle, but being unable to start a fire I couldn’t do much with it except fashion a sun shield from it’s carapace.

On the second day I found my first sign of civilization. A moisture vaporator had been erected on a flat patch of rock, and judging by it’s state of disrepair I guessed it to be long abandoned. The device was, however, functional, and to my ever-present luck I managed to scrape a liter or so of water into a small, plastic container found in the wreckage.

Everything about this planet seemed inhospitable to me. To be truthful, I was beyond surprised when I found the vaporator – until then, I hadn’t thought anyone in the Galaxy could be stupid enough to try living on a world like this.  The days were hot and dry, and the intensity of the double suns was enough to drive a man mad. I found myself fatigued easily in these conditions, and this fact was only made worse when a stumble or faint would bring you down on your hands and knees on the scorching hot sand, enough to burn holes through your skin.

There was no moisture on the planet, as evidenced by the necessity of vaporators like the one I had found. I tried digging for groundwater near a rock outcropping, but my attempts proved fruitless – not a drop anywhere to be found. I wondered how these bizarre night creatures that were so ever-present managed to survive in these conditions.

By the third day I had still made no visible progress, and my suspicions of travelling around the same spot in circles grew stronger as I noticed the endless, cloned dunes stretching out on all sides of me. The only landmarks I had to go by were small rock patches and an occassional small mountain range. While nearing one of these rugged protrusions I heard an alien, almost ghostly call which clearly belonged to something much bigger and more powerful than any of the creatures I had encountered thus far. It was evening, and I didn’t like the idea of sharing a territory with a monster like that in the blindness of these desert nights, so I decided to take shelter in one of the small canyons grooved into the rock face. I sat and waited for the night to come, not sure of what to expect of the approaching darkness, or the next day for that matter. For all my complaints, I do recall the twilight on Tatooine as being a magical experience. Watching the binary sunset held a certain unreal, almost dreamlike imagery which has haunted me to this day. And when the suns had gone, the stars came out. The stars always drove me into a line of inexplicable thinking. It was as if they opened my eyes to the many wonders of the Galaxy. How could a place like this exist? So inhospitable, so unforgiving. And moreso, how could there exist life in this enviornment?

I felt both connected and isolated by the stars. Out there lay the homeworlds of millions upon millions of beings. And somehow I found myself here, alone in this wasteland, this harsh, lonely, desolate place.
And what a desolate place it was.

I found civilization on the fourth day.

Mos Eisley was apparently the largest spaceport on the planet, and the only real spaceport as far as I ever saw. As large as it may have been by Tatoonian standards, it was a small place, maybe about half the size of the capital at Concord Dawn.

I was disgusted. Upon setting foot on the first of the clumsily-swept streets an array of smells reached my nostrils which immediately brought to mind intense images of decaying garbage. What that garbage was composed of was anyone’s guess, as I’ve yet to find that distinctive smell anywhere again, even in the lowest bowels of the most poverty-ridden cities.

I swear, I nearly turned around and headed straight back into the dunes.

My first stop was a mechanic’s garage just inside the North gates of the city. There I found a family of Aqualish immigrants hurriedly and furiously working on an XP-38. I stumbled into the hanger and started to speak, but found that I’d lost my voice after the days of silence and only managed to cough up a large portion of wet sand before collapsing on the floor. The aliens scurried over to me curiously, and seemed to regard me as more of an interesting peculiarity than the dying man I really was. They chattered in a quiet, disregarding tone, as if I were already dead. My startled vocalization of protest finally caught their attention, and I soon learned that one of the men spoke some form of Basic. I asked for water. To my dismay it was immediately concluded that I would be paying for the drink – indeed, this was a harsh world. The youngest and most socially adept of the aliens took pity on me and brought me a small cup of dirty water, disregarding his families snide comments of dissaproval. I thanked him, and he accepted as one of the others told me to, essentially, get out as fast as my meatbag legs could carry me.

Later in the day I made the realization that it would be necessary for me to start out a new life for myself. Now that I’d found a trace of society, many new options presented themselves. Some were more appealing than others, but one thing was certain – to eek out even the most meager existence would require money.
I found a solution to this problem in an old woman named Trehla Keelo. She owned a water cafe in the central area of the city, and she received enough traffic during the hot days that she was able to live a somewhat comfortable life. She took me in as a waiter almost immediately, and I recieved both a handful of money and a place to sleep after my first day of work. She was a kind woman, and she let me stay in the shop overnight with little hesitation. The blankets she’d provided me with were scratchy and small, but in comparison to my recently prior nighttime experiences, I was in no mood to complain.

I continued this existence for the next several weeks with little complication or dissapointment. I knew that I couldn’t continue with this lifestyle forever, though. Working with Trehla was a pleasurable experience, but it wasn’t a life-making career. I needed a real job.
Surprisingly enough, I found one the next day.

Kevin Kreger is a photographer, filmmaker, and writer. His contributions to Verivex include science fiction, history, and reflections.Learn more about Kevin Kreger on his website or connect with him on Facebook.

But then the Galactic Empire became involved.

We weren’t able to ignore them the same way we had ignored the Republic. As the Empire continued on it’s rampage of destruction, it tore my life to ribbons and ended the rest of my family’s.
They came on the dawn one week prior to my birthday, standard year 014BBY, eclipsing the sun with massive Star Destroyers. Dropships soon rained upon the planet surface, and before any of us knew it our village was swarming with Stormtroopers. They will not take us without a fight, we said, and many of us died with that thought. They started by unloading the Stormtroopers with stun weapons, then when they realized our intentions they finished the thought with rocket-wielding Shock Troopers.
I was mad, and I used my vibroblade to cut through many a Stormtrooper in the initial frenzy. But even as determined and adrenaline-fueled as we were, even we were not invulnerable – and we learned this as the Imperials enclosed and eventually overwhelmed us.
My father, mother, and most of my friends were killed once the Shock Troopers opened fire with the rockets. Enraged by the death of my parents, I charged at the troopers with intense energy, actually managing to kill three of them before falling to a stun baton.
Although now I consider myself lucky enough to have been spared, at the time I would have rather died. I try not to remember the day as best I can, but it still is with me…
I awoke to find my entire clan scattered, each one of the surviving members being held by two Stormtroopers. Very few of us had been left alive, but among them I found my friends Levinth and Charco. When I made eye contact with Levinth briefly I discovered that his father had also been forcibly put to rest by the Empire.
Apparently we were being shuttled to distant worlds so as not to pose a threat to the Emperor. This undoubtedly meant something along the lines of a lifetime in a spice mine, or a miserable existence in a concentration camp.
Interestingly enough, I found neither of the opportunities to be particularly exciting. I decided to stick with my instinct that no Mandalorian could be contained by two flimsy Stormtroopers and proceeded to show my escorts a good time. After they hit the ground, I ran as blaster shots started sizzling past me. I ran harder than I ever had in my life up to that point, so hard that I was out of the smoke within minutes.

For three days after that I wandered the deserts and fields of Concord Dawn, realizing for the first time just how easy it was to become lost in the barren landscape. I was on my own for the first time, and thouroghly fatigued by the time I found any means of communication, which thankfully was early on the second day.
It was a long deserted temporary mining settlement, containing little more than a broken computer terminal, some chairs, and an ancient burrowing rig. At first I was not excited, but upon closer inspection I found a partially buried long distance comm unit. The compacted dirt it had laid under had provided decent protection for it over the years, and after a short time I was actually able to resuscitate it.
Incidentally, the only comm number I had memorized belonged to the only person that I would have trusted at the time – my old friend and ex-Mandalorian, Felome Eta. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, but when I managed to get my message across to him through the warbled transmission, he became ecstatic. He left immediately and had locked onto the transmission by the end of the day. I stayed put as he arrived the next morning, blowing up a dust storm in his descending ship. I got onboard immediately and we blasted off, wary of the possibilites of Imperial patrols or search parties in the area.
While in hyperspace route to Corellia, I explained to Felome what had happened at Concord Dawn. He took the news heavy-heartedly; although his time there was limited, the planet was as much a home to him as it was to me. It also signified the increasing totaltarian approach of the Empire, which Felome was in drastic oppose to. He was angered by the news, and I seem to recall him saying something to the effect of the Rebels eventual victory over tyranny…
As our conversation continued, Felome invited me to come live with him on Corellia. I could tell that he meant it, but I couldn’t accept. I was an Imperial fugitive, and my mere adjacency to Felome threatenend his very existence. When we got to Corellia, I was going off on my own – or so I thought.
I never reached Corellia.

Upon exiting hyperspace into the system, we were intercepted by a patrol of Imperial frigates and knocked out of the sky before either of us could so much as utter a word. I was thrown into unconsciousness by the vacuum of space. I wasn’t sure if Felome survived.

As my consciousness returned to me, I slowly gathered myself as being in the presence of a medical facility. Several variety of terminals and monitors surrounded me, emitting an overlay of soft pulses and beeps. The room I was in was particularly dark, which I realize now was hardly ordinary for hospitals of that time period. That never made sense to me, to be honest. Recovering patients, some of which on the brink of death more often than not, and they’re expected to feel more comfortable and prone to healing when thrown under examanatory flourescence. Doesn’t make sense to me personally, but anyway – this facility was particularly dark, and I found opening and adjusting my eyes to be a pleasantly painless experience. I stood up from the metal cot I had been mysteriously placed on, and walked towards the only door in the room. I was surprised to find it unlocked.

A guard of some type was waiting for me outside. He seemed surprised to find me active so soon. I asked him some basic questions, but all I got in return was the impression that the man was a complete idiot who couldn’t even tell me what position he was holding in this arrangement. Eventually though, I got the tidbit from him that the Emperor was “looking for me”, and “wanted to meet me.”

Not if I could help it.

I thanked the idiot and moved on to where he directed, finding after a series of hallways another man who immediately and enthusiastically identified himself as the station master. So my suspicions had been correct – I was on a type of space platform.

This man explained to me in far greater detail the reasonings behind my capture and treatment. To put it bluntly, it wasn’t good; Felome’s ship had been tracked since he had recieved my message and been labeled as harboring a fugitive from Concord Dawn. We were blasted out of the sky because of it, no questions asked. It seemed that it was only a convenience that I had happened to survive the encounter. And now, I was being shipped to the Emperor himself, to be made the ragdoll of his personal vendetta against my people.

Again, not if I could help it.

It seemed luck was with me that day however, for while I remained locked in this political banter a call came to the station master of the utmost urgency – the station was being attacked by Rebel forces. The Rebels! Attacking the very station I was standing on, just as I was about to be sent to see the man behind the conflict. It was at this point in my life that I realized for the first time the absolute impact this Civil War actually had on the Galaxy at that time.
Possibilities of escape in the inevitable forthcoming confusion flicked through my mind. I was practically gone already.
The first shell hit the station and the resulting shockwave was enough to send myself and the Imperial crashing to the floor. I acted quickly – while the other man was still recovering I propelled myself upward and shot out of the room, only hearing his shouts of protest after I was well down the exit corridor. I made progress quickly, thankful for the timing of the crisis; I passed by several Officers in the halls who were too preoccupied to notice me. Directional signs along the ceiling guided me easily to the escape pod bay, and after sliding through the opening to the terminal I quickly initiated the nearest pod without any regard to where the autopilot would have me coursed for landing. The door to the pod slid open and I hunched inside. The thing was extemely uncomfortable, but I figured spending the rest of my life in it would still be better than spending it on board the station. I punched the override and felt the rockets kick to life above my head – the hatch slid closed as I caught a glimpse of my detainer entering the room, and suddenly felt myself thrust out into antigravity as an earsplitting noise resounded through the cramped cabin. The transit was short, and I was en route to landing within five minutes. That was a bad sign to me – with a distance  that short it was obvious that the space station had been orbiting a planet, and that of course begged the question of whether or not said planet was an Imperial hotspot. I didn’t like it, but I decided to take my chances.

It wasn’t like I had much of a choice.

Kevin Kreger is a photographer, filmmaker, and writer. His contributions to Verivex include science fiction, history, and reflections.Learn more about Kevin Kreger on his website or connect with him on Facebook.

Steven Diaz was a well known hacker that went by the alias Ace. At a young age, he was interested in computers; by age 10, he could take apart a computer and put it back together blindfolded. His father left his family at age 7, so his mother struggled to take care of him. It was obvious that he had a lot of potential but he never took advantage of it by excelling in school. Rather, he preferred to sit at home on his laptop. For the past five years, he had been taking jobs from random crooks to get money. That is where our story begins…

Chapter One, Contract.

The phone rang. It was an early Monday morning. Steven picked it up. “Who would be calling at 2 in the morning?” he thought.

“Hello?” he asked.

A voice answered, “I hear you are good at what you do and you like to keep things confidential.”

“Yeah, but try calling in the afternoon next time; normal people still sleep at this hour, you know.”

The voice replied, “No matter. There is a briefcase on the floor outside your door.  If you take the briefcase you agree to the job. Inside, there is a million dollars. That’s your down payment.”

Then the phone went dead.

Steven quickly walked over to the door, opened it slowly, and there sat the briefcase, tempting him to take it. He carefully brought it inside and peeked inside; there was the million dollars… and a paper with instructions. The paper read “Phase 1: Get into the server on this address and copy any files under the name Project Blackside. Phase 2: Copy the files into a CD and leave them in your mailbox; we will pick it up tomorrow night.”

Steven began to hack into the database. Leaving a virus for anyone who attempted to find the source of the compromised system, he successfully found the data and copied it onto a CD. Steven was always one for curiosity; although he asked no questions, he always looked at the data, just in case it was something of value. On those files were evidence of killings the government did in Nigeria to test some sort of new bioweapon.

This was bad, and Steven had no idea it was about to get worse.

My Name is Mercke Lutso

________________________________________________________________________________

I’ve come a long way since that fateful day when my planet was attacked by the Empire. I’ve come a long way since I was thrown into the deserts of Tatooine to fend for myself. I’ve come a long way since I discovered the presence of a Mandalorian cult on Endor. I’ve come a long way since seeing the Galactic Empire’s greatest weapon blown to pieces at the hands of my friends. I’ve come a long way since reuniting myself with my culture. And I’ve come a long way since seeing it grow strong again.

I’ve come a long way indeed.

As I am writing this account of my life, I am reviewing the visual and audio pickups of my helmet systems. I’m reading through old notes, talking to old friends, checking the logs on my ship and in my house. My droid companion has been a remarkable asset in this pursuit, helping me considerably by digging through his records.

So please. Don’t think I have the memory of a supercomputer. My memory is very good, and is something that I pride myself very highly of – but by no means can I remember every word of a conversation that I had thirty years ago.

When I was a boy, growing up in the harsh enviornment of Concord Dawn, I had no idea that I would come such a long way, or live for so long, or do so much.

But you honestly won’t understand a thing I tell you unless you were there with me.

So I’ll start at (or rather, near) the beginning.

I grew up on the distant and somewhat primitive world of Concord Dawn, a dusty planet filled with brown deserts and dry farmland, in the outer rim of the Galaxy. Populated by farmers and peasants, Concord Dawn was controlled by the Journeyman Protectors – an ancient class of Mandalorians devoted to establishing control and safety for their leader.

After the devastating Battle of Galidraan that had happened a year after I was born, the Mandalorian numbers were dwindling signifigantly. Nearly two thirds of our population had been wiped out during the massacre, leaving small and scattered clans on remote planets. We all awaited the day the Mandalorians would once again come to power.

I was a son of Mandalore, a member of the Mandalorian family, and of the human species. Under the established way of Mandalorian living, or Supercommando Codex, as it was called, it was a hard life, but I loved it.

The Lutso family was well known on Concord Dawn. On my mother’s side was a distant relation to the Fetts, and my father came from a long line of veterans among the Mandalorians. He had fought at the Battle of Galidraan a year after my birth, and was one of the few that survived the onsalught.

My mother on the other hand was also a skilled fighter, but she never accepted battle the way my father did. She limited herself to big-game hunts and other homely activites with the clan, and she rarely travelled off-world.

The clan I was part of consisted of ten families, about the size of a typical Corellian city block. Our clan leader was a man named Jandai Orokith, a real monster of a man who had recently been deployed to Kamino to train ARC troopers under Jango Fett. He had returned early for some unknown reason, and it remained so, as it wasn’t anyone’s place to ask him about it.

He was a great man. He taught me everything my father didn’t. Under his guidance I learned alot about firearms and ballistics, which was a good experience for me; and the man was a brilliant survivalist.

Jandai’s son Levinth created a strong friendship with me when we were young. Three years my junior, we were inseperable for most of the time, and in our older years we became unofficial sparring partners, practicing nearly every day. He was a rather competetive spirit…

During my late childhood a series of clashes between the Republic Forces and the Confederacy of Independent Systems (CIS) were occuring, which would eventually lead to something known as the Clone Wars. Being as I was a youngster at the time, I didn’t give a second thought as to what was happening on distant worlds. But in my later years I did some extensive research and learned that these battles would not only shape the future for me, but change the course of Galactic history forever.
But I’m getting ahead of myself here – let me explain.

Near the beginning of the three-year war, a certain Sith Lord named Darth Tyranus hired my distant relative, Jango Fett, for some odd bounty hunting job. Well, after the course of however many weeks Jango gets caught up in a particularly elaborate scheme of this Sith Lord’s, and eventually he becomes the template for a clone army. This army was apparently being constructed to serve the Republic during any times of ciris involving the CIS.
Some of my people left to fight during this conflict – such as Kal Skirata, Ghez Hokan, and Jandai Orokith – but for the most part the Mandalorians stayed away from the war. Why, you ask?
One word – Jedi.
The undeclared enemies of the Mandalorians were, during this time period, numbered in the thousands. They fought on both sides of the conflict, and therefore gererally dismissed the Mandalorians’ interest in any participation.
Now let me explain the signifigance of this, as it was obviously one enough to deter the Mandalorians from combat and therefore quite a peculiarity; the Jedi had been fighting with the Mandalorians for thousands of years for control of the planetary systems of the Galaxy. This superpower tug-of-war eventually led to the Battle of Galidraan, where Jedi forces under Master Dooku fought viciously against the late Mandalore Jaster Mereel’s troops.
The Jedi had slaughtered us at Galidraan and left us for dead. We barely survived, and the Jedi finally gained control over the planetary systems, becoming the peacekeepers and main task force under the Republic.
We never really forgave them for that.

At the end of the Clone Wars, the head of the Republic, Chancellor Palpatine, took righteous and complete control over the Galaxy.
Although unclear in record, from what I can gather Palpatine hated the Jedi with a passion, and slowly but surely used his armies to wipe them out (much to the liking of my people, I’m sure). Like the Mandalorians, they survived, but only barely.
Palpatine eventually transformed the Republic into the Galactic Empire. In the process he dumped his Mandalorian genetics program in favor of newer technology, and created from the old “Clone Troopers”, the Stormtroopers. With them he began to scour the Galaxy and take by force the planetary systems, one by one.

That’s the end of my history lesson…

Kevin Kreger is a photographer, filmmaker, and writer. His contributions to Verivex include science fiction, history, and reflections.Learn more about Kevin Kreger on his website or connect with him on Facebook.