Wednesday, October 22, 2014

The Fist Star Wars Movie - Chapter 1-2

The 6 Star Wars movies which many of us know of are only a 0.001% of the complete story-line. 


Even though fictitious, the story which spans well over 5043 'Galactic years' was written with great detail and chronological accuracy. 







Story starts at 5,000 BBY (similar to 5,000 BC) - Old Republic Era


The time line....

5,000 BBY to 1000 BBY   (Old Republic Era )    - about 10 books
1,000 BBY to 0 BBY    (Rise of the Empire Era)  - about 200 books
0 BBY to 4 ABY           ( Rebellion Era)   - ABY is similar to AD  - Most popular - about 40 books
5 ABY to 24 ABY         (New Republic Era)  - About 100 books
25 ABY 40 ABY           (New Jedi Order Era) - about 50 books
40 ABY to 43 ABY       (Legacy Era)  - 11 books
Beyond 43 ABY                                   -  12 books




The Galactic Standard Calendar was the standard measurement of time in the galaxy. It centered around the Coruscant solar cycle. The Coruscant solar cycle was 368 days long with a day consisting of 24 standard hours.  Numerous epochs were used to determine calendar eras. The most recent of these calendar eras used the Battle of Yavin as its epoch, or "year zero". BBY stands for Before the Battle of Yavin, and ABY stands for After the Battle of Yavin.

6 Movies were made 

In galactic time order ....
1.) The Phantom Menace (32 BBY )    Like 32 BC
2.) Attack of the Clones    (22 BBY )    Like 22 BC
3.) The Clone Wars           (22 BBY )    Like 22 BC

4.) A New Hope                      (  0 BBY)  Like 0 BC  ( the story we are reading now)
5.) The Empire Strikes back ( 3 ABY)   Like 3 AD
6.) Return of the Jedi              ( 4 ABY)   Like 4 AD

The last 3 moves were made first, (they were from the Rebellion Era)   and were called the Classic Trilogy.  

The first 3 movies were made later (they were from the Rise of the Empire Era )



Utterly useless information ...  but the author/s should be applauded for keeping millions of people sticking with the story for 40 years and counting..






Ok back to the story now....


STAR WARS - EPISODE IV - Chapter 1-





Fear followed the footsteps of all the Dark Lords. The cloud of evil
which clung tight about this particular one was intense enough to cause
hardened Imperial troops to back away, menacing enough to set them muttering
nervously among themselves. Once-resolute rebel crew members ceased
resisting, broke and ran in panic at the sight of the black armor-armor
which, though black as it was, was not nearly as dark as the thoughts
drifting through the mind within.

One purpose, one thought, one obsession dominated that mind now. It
burned in the brain of Darth Vader as he turned down another passageway in
the broken fighter. There smoke was beginning to clear, though the sounds of
faraway fighting still resounded through the hull. The battle here had ended
and moved on.

Only a robot was left to stir freely in the wake of the Dark Lord's
passing. See Threepio finally stepped clear of the last restraining cable.
Somewhere behind him human screams could be heard from where relentless
Imperial troops were mopping up the last remnants of rebel resistance.
Threepio glanced down and saw only scarred deck. As he looked around,
his voice was full of concern. "Artoo Detoo-where are you?" The smoke seemed
to part just a bit more. Threepio found himself staring up the passageway.
Artoo Detoo, it seemed, was there. But he wasn't looking in Threepio's
direction. Instead, the little robot appeared frozen in an attitude of
attention. Leaning over him was-it was difficult for even Threepio's
electronic photoreceptors to penetrate the clinging, acidic smoke-a human
figure. It was young, slim, and by abstruse human standards of aesthetics,
Threepio mused, of a calm beauty. One small hand seemed to be moving over
the front of Artoo's torso.

Threepio started toward them as the haze thickened once more. But when
he reached the end of the corridor, only Artoo stood there, waiting.
Threepio peered past him, uncertain. Robots were occasionally subject to
electronic hallucinations-but why should he hallucinate a human?
He shrugged... Then again, why not, especially when one considered the
confusing circumstances of the past hour and the dose of raw current he had
recently absorbed. He shouldn't be surprised at anything his concatenated
internal circuits conjured up.

"Where have you been?" Threepio finally asked. "Hiding, I suppose." He
decided not to mention the maybe-human. If it had been a hallucination, he
wasn't going to give Artoo the satisfaction of knowing how badly recent
events had unsettled his logic circuits.

"They'll be coming back this way," he went on, nodding down the
corridor and not giving the small automaton a chance to reply, "looking for
human survivors. What are we going to do now? They won't trust the word of
rebel-owned machines that we don't know anything of value. We'll be sent to
the spice mines of Kessel or taken apart for spare components for other,
less deserving robots. That's if they don't consider us potential program
traps and blow us apart on sight. If we don't..." But Artoo had already
turned and was ambling quickly back down the passageway.

"Wait, where are you going? Haven't you been listening to me?" Uttering
curses in several languages, some purely mechanical, Threepio raced fluidly
after his friend. The Artoo unit, he thought to himself, could be downright
close-circuited when it wanted to.

Outside the galactic cruiser's control center the corridor was crowded
with sullen prisoners gathered by Imperial troops. Some lay wounded, some
dying. Several officers had been separated from the enlisted ranks and stood
in a small group by themselves, bestowing belligerent looks and threats on
the silent knot of troops holding them at bay.

As if on command, everyone-Imperial troops as well as rebels-became
silent as a massive caped form came into view from behind a turn in the
passage. Two of the heretofore resolute, obstinate rebel officers began to
shake. Stopping before one of the men, the towering figure reached out
wordlessly. A massive hand closed around the man's neck and lifted him off
the deck. The rebel officer's eyes bulged, but he kept his silence.
An Imperial officer, his armored helmet shoved back to reveal a recent
scar where an energy beam had penetrated his shielding, scrambled down out
of the fighter's control room, shaking his head briskly. "Nothing, sir.
Information retrieval system's been wiped clean."

Darth Vader acknowledged this news with a barely perceptible nod. The
impenetrable mask turned to regard the officer he was torturing. Metal-clad
fingers contracted. Reaching up, the prisoner desperately tried to pry them
loose, but to no avail.

"Where is the data you intercepted?" Vader rumbled dangerously. "What
have you done with the information tapes?"
"We-intercepted-no information," the dangling officer gurgled, barely
able to breathe. From somewhere deep within, he dredged up a squeal of
outrage. "This is a... councilor vessel... Did you not see our... exterior
markings? We're on a... diplomatic... mission."

"Chaos take your mission!" Vader growled. "Where are those tapes?" He
squeezed harder, the threat in his grip implicit.

When he finally replied, the officer's voice was a bare, choked
whisper. "Only... the Commander knows."



"This ship carries the system crest of Alderaan," Vader growled, the
gargoylelike breath mask leaning close. "Is any of the royal family on
board? Who are you carrying?" Thick fingers tightened further, and the
officer's struggles became more and more frantic. His last words were
muffled and choked past intelligibility.

Vader was not pleased. Even though the figure went limp with an awful,
unquestionable finality, that hand continued to tighten, producing a
chilling snapping and popping of bone, like a dog padding on plastic. Then
with a disgusted wheeze Vader finally threw the doll-form of the dead man
against a far wall. Several Imperial troops ducked out of the way just in
time to avoid the grisly missile.

All rights remain with the original author.

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