Hurtling through Space

A Day in the Life of Girm

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I picked up a new hobby - playing a tabletop RPG based in the Star Wars universe. This is my first tabletop RPG and I’m absolutely loving it. The current campaign has been really engaging because we’re staying with our characters from childhood, through their teenage years, and into adulthood. We get to live out their backstories, which will hopefully lead them down interesting paths. I was on a airplane and felt inspired to stay with my character for a few minutes to give them an adventure. I wound up writing a short story, which I’m sharing below without any context whatsoever. This is probably the geekiest thing I’ve ever done. It’s literally fanfiction about Star Wars fanfiction…

The dawn broke and Girm woke on a mat made of straw. He felt sticky and uncomfortable. At some point overnight, condensation started to drip off the ceiling above him. He longed to feel dry desert air again. This godforsaken jungle. You couldn’t escape from water. He rolled over, squinted, and glimpsed his comrades still snoozing. A dabble of drool was forming at the corner of Rex’s big, dumb mouth. Boh-di was snoring. Agador was as still as a corpse. Konah was curled on his side in the corner. Girm smiled. He saw possibilities for all of them. The adventures they’ve gone on. The adventures they were going to have. The dangers waiting for them around every tree. He knew he had to keep his guard up. They’d only faced clones and pirates so far, but they had some close calls. Each encounter taught Girm a valuable lesson. Most recently, he learned that they needed more discipline in the battlefield. When should they attack? How should they organize themselves? Who was going to lead them into battle? These questions kept Girm awake at night.

He stumbled barefoot on the cool stone floor and out the temple entrance. The morning sun had just started to peek through the treeline. He had loathed the damp dirt between his toes when he first arrived at Keantoo, but recently he started to change his mind. The discomfort became familiar. It reminded him of their struggle to best the Jungle. Great things lay ahead of them. A lifetime’s tabula rosa. The fate of the Padawans and Planet Keantoo were intimately connected now. They shaped and molded each other. But the question remained: were they the sculptors of their destiny or were they the clay being molded by unknown forces? Of course, Girm was 13 and lacked the vocabulary, maturity, and life experiences to articulate these nagging questions to his friends, but uncertainty constantly lurked in the shadows of his thoughts.

He felt hungry. A warrior’s hunger, he thought. The night before, the Padawans held combat training with Oddball. He and Boh-di were locked in fierce lightsaber competition for what felt like hours. Dodging, rolling, and slashing over and over. Boh-di was an excellent partner and worthy champion. Girm would daydream about the two of them laying waste to legions of unknown enemies. He couldn’t see who they were fighting, but he felt virtuous and strong with his companion at his side. He would let images of these enemies enter his mind as they were sparring.

As he walked into the grove of fruit trees in the yard this morning, he shadow practiced intricate lightsaber techniques. When he arrived at the first tree, he saw a small, ripe fruit hanging by a short stem. He concentrated on the stem and, without losing his gaze on it, knelt down to pick up a stick. He raised himself and closed his eyes. The force showed him fruit and stem even more precisely than his eyes could convey. He gripped the stick and slashed. The fruit was already resting in his outstretched hand when he opened his eyes. He swallowed the snack in a few bites. A sudden cry in the Force rang out. He dashed into the tree line in front of him, his eyes wild for the hunt.

Girm followed the path that he and his comrades had stomped through the underbrush. He passed the hardpacked mud, broken twigs and crushed bushes that marked their trail eastward as long as he could. He could sense something worthy nearby, a prize that would cause his friends to praise him. The Force urged him to continue seeking, and before he knew it he was in a part of the Jungle that looked unfamiliar and stopped. He had left their path, but he wasn’t concerned about that. Rather, he wondered what he should do next. Whatever the Force wanted him to find felt big and he wasn’t sure he could handle it alone. But he yearned to prove to his friends that he was a leader, capable of overcoming great challenges and bringing them success. He climbed into the lower branches of a nearby tree and meditated among the living Force of the Jungle. Though he would never admit it to Konah, Girm had learned valuable mantras to quickly attune to the Force from the meditation sessions Konah led. Girm’s mind emptied, and into it flooded the Force. A sentient creature was nearby. It too was Force sensitive. It was in pain. They acknowledged each other through the Force and Girm knew where it was. He saw opportunity. He decided to set off to find it alone. The Force soon led him to a small clearing. He could tell he was getting closer, but the creature’s presence in the Force kept fading. The Sun had risen to mid morning. Girm stopped to get a sip of water from dew collecting on a nearby orchid-like flower. He continued on in search of the creature.

The Jungle grew thicker, enveloping the sky and eating the sunlight burning above him. A chill ran down his spine, a rare feeling for a warrior like Girm. He pushed fear away and listened to the Jungle and Force around him. He felt the injured creature nearby and found an adolescent human with grave wounds laying against a tree. Their breathing was slow. This person had lost a fight to something dangerous. They were covered in ragged wounds, like a creature with teeth or claws wildly thrashed against this person. They coughed and blood dripped out of the corner of their mouth.

“Who are you?” asked Girm. He got no reply. He looked at the area. A small satchel lay nearby.

“What happened?” Silence.

“Can you move?” The person finally responded with a shake of their head.

This is what the Force wanted me to find, thought Girm. He recognized this person through their earlier contact. Why would someone Force-sensitive be out here? Where did they come from? Who else is out here? What else can we learn about the Force from this planet and its people? There was so much Girm and the others could learn from this person. The other Padawans would be so impressed if he took the initiative to save them. What an opportunity for Girm and his friends. He had to act quickly.

“Do you have any medical supplies in here?” Another shake of the head. “You’re pretty banged up. I’m no medic so I can’t help you here. Let me take you back to my camp.”

Girm opened a channel on his communicator to his friends.

“Hey guys, I found someone badly hurt out here in the Jungle. Looks like they got in a fight with some kind of monster. I don’t know where we are so don’t try to find us. I’m bringing them back home.”

Rex’s voice came back a moment later. “Hey Girm we hear you. Boh-di and I are heading back to the temple now. We’ll see you when you get there.”

Girm gingerly lifted the injured human and carried them over his shoulder and back to the Temple, letting the Force guide him.

How to cite this blog post:

    author = {Pittman, Cameron},
    title = {A day in the life of girm},
    journal = {Hurtling through Space},
    url = {},
    year = {2022},
    month = {May},
    accessed = {Oct 17, 2022}
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