3rd Person
Why do people turn to evil, to violence... to war?
Maybe some were born that way...
Most weren't.
Most were molded by the environments they lived in.
It's almost funny.
You invade worlds...
You take homes... defile lands...
You subjugate, dehumanize, enslave...
And then... you're surprised when people turn to violence?
...
The scariest thing in this galaxy is a child born into suffering.
That child, who knows nothing but parched sands, poisoned waters, or pitch black alleys...
They know what it's like to have nothing.
Therefore, if you try to take something important from them...
They latch on... and fight like a wounded animal.
Those children, victims of the galaxy's cruelty...
They become your most dangerous enemies.
Within Irisella's factory on the water, a child was currently carrying out her duties.
Athina
Up in my compact metal box atop the outdoor section of the factory, I oversaw everything.
I witnessed the half-finished gunships mobilizing out of the plant's indoor section.
After that, I skillfully operated the few control panels present in my tiny box.
With a few button presses, I manually activated each of the immense, suspended electromagnets that hung over every assembly line.
The electromagnets served a myriad of purposes. After the incomplete gunships levitated skyward, a team of mechanics serviced the areas inaccessible to the mechanics at ground level.
Additionally, the magnetic levitation offered a jump-start to the gunships' hovering technology once the mechanics had installed it, making the testing process easier.
All I had to do was press buttons.
Well... that was all I could do now.
In the brief moments between each of my button presses, I added a detail to my sketch.
It was coming along nicely, at least I thought so.
My depth perception was off. I would've been able to draw my art faster with two eyes.
A little line there on the sleeves...
A detail on the hilt...
Danger!
An impulse came over me in an instant.
Someone was coming. In response, I hid my sketch in a small wooden slit located on the underside of my wheelchair.
"Slam!"
The miniscule door to my box opened violently.
In walked the factory's overseer, Marshall.
"You! What's your name, again?!" he demanded, pointing a finger at me.
"Athina, sir." I hissed calmly.
YOU ARE READING
The Weakest Jedi
Fanfiction*OC version of The Weakest Jedi.* The story of a young boy and his foolish dream. Born into the hellish underworld of Coruscant, Zevon was found by the Jedi at a young age and welcomed into the order. There's a slight problem, though... Zevon's forc...
