Preview of Upcoming Writing

"My early life was not very pleasant. I was born on the outer rim planet Mon Gazza, my father a poor alcoholic miner, my mother a prostitute. He was one among… billions. It’s incomprehensible, you know? Billions of workers, drilling into this huge planet day after day for years, carving it up for just enough to go back downtown after the day was over to drown themselves in liquor and sex, in the flashy and neon filled downtown districts where the daily podraces helped them forget for a little while that they were meaningless.. And this wasn’t just limited to one region, or one social class… this entire planet was, and still is, little more than a slave plantation… every day, in and out, this massive throng of heaving and digging life contributing to what amounted to a little bonus in the paycheck of a senator in the republic. It’s sick. Nothing can justify the way the galaxy is today.”

"You know, we had a phrase back home. The Mon Gazza workday. Twenty hours of backbreaking, soul crushing work… and we didn’t have breaks like you do. We didn’t ‘stop because our backs hurt.’ We had no concept of vacations or weekends. We had no bathrooms, we dug holes in the earth. If you had a child, they’d be whisked away to where they were needed on the mines. You’d probably never see them again. They didn’t even pay us in credits. We got a special Mon Gazza currency that you could redeem at the government stores. That’s the real secret to keeping us down." He paused for a moment, set his drink down and took out his wallet to show a few Mon Gazzian bills. They looked like coupons. "How do we buy our freedom off this planet when all we can buy is more booze? I never met anyone who ever got a government visa off that planet. I don’t think they really ever existed."

We worked for twenty unbearable hours, and then had eight hours to ourselves. Eight hours. It was such a luxury. That was all the time you had to drink, gamble and sleep. Sometimes we’d save it. I’ve seen a man work fifty hours straight before just so he could sleep in for once in his life. And that was the life of the men. The women, either barmaids or whores, had a life maybe even worse. When these miners came back to the city, exhausted, frustrated, drunk and antagonistic, the prostitutes received the worst of it. There was no marriage on Mon Gazza. No one fell in love. None of them men treated the women with any respect. They were tools, just like the drinks, to relieve the stress they’d built up. Tools to be used and then thrown away. It was disgusting to watch at first; seeing them covered in scars, bruises, seeing their weary faces stretch into the most fake, pitiful smiles you can imagine. That’s what still haunts me to this day.”

“Seeing those faces and accepting it. I don’t know how, but you get used to it. You begin to think that this must be how life is. That it’s utter shit. That you’re utter shit. That everything is complete and utter shit. That’s how they control you. To think I worked there as a child.” He laughed grimly. “Are you really that surprised? Child labor has always existed outside your precious galactic order.” He continued. “To think I worked there. To think I… I had sex with them. Those women. No, I raped them. I was no different than any of the others. And life was dull. Nothing was wrong, nothing was right in our eyes. The days blended into each other just like the charcoal red dust of that planet and pretty soon you’d spent your entire life digging for iron.”

"That’s why I turned away from the order. Because despite all their preaching, despite all their good intentions, despite all the horrors of the sith they spoke of… they never did anything! They couldn’t be bothered to help my parents or any of the others on Mon Gazza, or the hundreds of other planets just like it. They were content to sit around on their thrones and act as ‘diplomats’ of the galaxy… none of them ever worked a day in their life. They have no concept of what it’s like to be in the hellhole of life. At least the sith promised us something. They told us we were valuable. They told us the injustice of the system. I’m proud of what happened on Mon Gazza. The raw power of those riots, of billions of people rising up in revolution… I broke a lot of republic property in those months. I killed a man. I don’t regret it. I’d do it again, and if I my current plans weren’t investing my time I’d find another planet like Mon Gazza and do the same. Because this Jedi doctrine of inaction is useless. The sith take action. They take what they want, and they teach others to do the same. The Jedi tell you that you are a servant of the force. The sith tell you, you are not a cog in a machine. You are your own god. You are the single most important thing in the universe, and anyone who says otherwise deserves a blaster hole through their skull."