The Clone Wars One Shots

Elite Part 1

During the Clone War, your life had been a living hell. With how much the Republic was spending on the needs of the army and their senators, civilians such as yourself suffered immensely. You were living in a run down apartment with your parents and five younger siblings, always on your toes in case someone broke in, which had happened at least a dozen times. You went to bed hungry most nights, and had to work three different jobs just to keep the lights on. It was torture.

You had spent every waking moment working to provide for a family that, quite frankly, you didn't care all that much for. You felt obligated to assist your parents and siblings, but at the end of the day, you had never gotten along. They didn't respect you, and you returned the favor. You loved them, of course, but had never liked them. Especially not your parents, who had decided it was a good idea to bring their six Nautolan-human hybrid children to the most populated and polluted planet in the galaxy in the middle of a war. Everything went downhill from there.

You had been in and out of jail multiple times for a handful of petty crimes, mostly pickpocketing, and needed an alternative. No matter how much you earned working almost the entire day, it was never enough. Something had to change.

Desperate for survival, you were willing to do almost anything to earn money, including signing up for several illegal street fights, where the winner could potentially walk away with bags of credits. You had been fighting since you were twelve years old, when you briefly lived on the streets of Mos Eisley with your family, so you knew how to take a punch.

That didn't save you your first time in the ring.

Or the second time.

Or third, or forth, or fifth time.

But then, finally, your luck changed.

After you were matched with a particularly frustrating opponent, you took advantage of his arrogance and pinned him when he was distracted by you feigning defeat. After that, you didn't lose a single battle. You had finally hit your win streak, and nothing could stop you.

At least until the cops shut the whole thing down.

Once that plan was down the drain, you took up a new hobby: blasters.

After stealing your first pistol, you practiced with it every spare moment you had. It wasn't long before you were ready to earn some money with it. You briefly considered bounty hunting, but upon realizing that you needed a ship for that, you came up with a new plan.

Every day, you would bar hop and challenge anyone who was up for it to a competitive target practice. Each of you got one shot, and whoever's blaster bolt was closest to a specific target won whatever their opponent had bet. You quickly discovered that you were an impressive shot, and won the vast majority of your competitions. Though you often got kicked out of the bar afterwards, it was worth it for the credits you could swindle people out of. It was rare that anyone bet on you, unless they had seen you win before. They underestimated your skills, and often lost because of it.

When the war finally ended and the Empire rose to power, you were given something you never thought you would have:

A chance.

With the Republic gone and the galaxy more chaotic than ever, the Empire needed a military to keep the order. Not a clone army like the Republic had used, but recruited soldiers.

The Republic had never done anything to aid you.

The Empire, however, had.

The moment a call was sent out for soldiers, you enlisted without second thought. Finally, a chance had come for you to get away, and to make good money doing something you were genuinely good at.