This is my first fanfiction story, so please give me constructive criticism and any thoughts about the story in general. That aside, do not verbally abuse me in the comments, please. Anyways, enjoy. For full immersion in story and future chapters I recommend you listen to songs mentioned in my writing (starting with fortunate son). Italics is character's thoughts.

Fortunate Son

Chapter 1

Rain. The droplets of water pounded their way down from the sky onto the platoon as they patrolled the jungle. Among the boys in green, James Williams, a native of New York, stopped for a moment to drink some water from his canteen. As the liquid ran down his throat, one of his platoon mates shouted, "Why don't you just drink the sky water?"

"You try catching that with your tongue, jackass," he responded. The little remark only earned him a casual fuck off from his comrade in arms. Once James finished drinking, he returned to his roll as radio operator and caught up to his Captain. For days, the men had gone running through the jungle searching for Uncle Ho and his commie forces. They had yet to find one dink, but that was to change soon.

"Radio back to base, we got nothing," the captain said.

"Yessir. Firebase Charlie, this is Sugar Charlie Three. We got no VC in the area. I repeat we got no VC in the area," James said into his radio. The brass hats gave the usual roger that, get the fuck back to base response, and radio silence resumed. Taking a final look around, the platoon began their trip back to base. They traveled across the 17th Parallel and back to their operations center. Just when the "base on a hill" was finally in sight, the first VC opened up. The captain didn't see it coming. Lifeless, his corpse collapsed to the floor. "Holy shit! We got company!" James Williams announced as the VC began firing on their position. One by one, James' platoon mates fell to Charlie's gunfire. Wasting no time, he brought the radio phone to his head and called in for a napalm strike.

"Roger that. Napalm inbound, get your platoon out of their corporal." The base's operator announced.

"Grab your shit! Let's get the fuck outta here! Napalm inbound!" James yelled at the few living Americans around him. Quickly, the men rose to their feet and ran towards their base, but were cut off by another VC ambush. Shit! They got us cut off! He thought. With the point of a finger, he gestured for the last platoon grunts to take a slight detour around their enemy and find a new way.

Just as they began escaping the shooting trees, the napalm came in. Like a blooming weed, the gelatin fire spread across the jungle, burning everything it touched. James could here the VC scream as they died to the flame. As the napalm began to spread, James and his remaining comrades' route back to base became blocked by fiery jungle.

"Fuck it! We gotta get out of here across the 17th Parallel" he stated as the diminished platoon continued to run back into the forest from hell. While they made their way further into North Vietnam, more napalm came down from American fighters. God dammit! Them motherfuckers are trying to kill us! Just as James finished his thought, a single explosive canister expelled its ordinance above them, encircling the last of the platoon in fire.

Holy shit, we're gonna die!" One of the men said. Another got down to his knees and began praying to the good Lord for their deliverance from evil. With his mind racing a mile a minute, James tried to call off the airstrike until he noticed his radio carried a massive bullet hole in its middle. May as well die trying to save my ass! He said internally as he dropped his communication device and ran forwards into the fray. As soon as he passed through the first ring of fire, he immediately regretted his decision. He couldn't breathe, and the smoke blinded most of his vision. Stumbling through the valley of death, he continued onward until he saw something that would soon change the rest of his life. Amidst all the orange and red around him, a floating, sea blue gateway lay, almost beckoning for him to enter. The portal swirled (figure something like the Rick and Morty portals but blue) endlessly, and without any hesitation, James Williams forced his way through.

On the other side, he found a vast expanse of ocean facing him. To add to the overall gloomy vibe he was experiencing, the rain was worse here then it was back in country. Where the fuck am I, he thought as he turned around to see a massive, steel grey complex. It was rounded like a dome (if you haven't figured it out yet, James is on Kamino) littered with white lights. Above it, some swort of ships soared through the sky faster than any fighter James had ever seen. The American corporal was so lost in his surroundings that he did not notice the clone patrol walk up behind, blasters in hand.

"Freeze. Put your hands up!" They said.

Okay, now what the actual fuck? James Williams thought, staring at the white armored men. "Who the hell are you?"

"I said hands up," the clone said.

"Alright, fine. Just don't shoot me trigger fingers," he stated.

Tentatively, the clones took his rifle and weapons, cuffed his hands, and began directing him into the complex. All around white walls and clones stared at him in his green jungle fatigues. What the hell is this place?

"So where exactly are you taking me trigger fingers? Please let it not be ze gulag." He said with a smirk. Neither responded, still pushing him onward, now through a glass tunnel that gave him a view of the sheer size of the Kaminoan cloning facilities. Pillars spiraled up towards the heavens, only being cut off by the ceiling. Coating these cylindrical structures were countless amounts of glass tubes containing God knew what.

"Holy shit."

After guiding Vietnam veteran through the complex of tunnels and halls, they finally reached the brig.

"Stay. The general will see you soon." One of the clones stated.

"The general. Ooh sounds scary," James Williams replied sarcastically, as the two soldiers departed.

Alone in a holding cell, James sat by himself pondering his thoughts and all that had happened. Got bombed by my own guys, check. Ran through a mystical circle thingy, check. Ended up in a-fuck-knows-where, check. Got arrested, check. Whats left on the list? Despite having experienced the worst of the shit in Nam, he couldn't help but feel his nerves spike and fear take hold of him. The foreign environment didn't feel right, and he learned in country that whenever things didn't feel right, people tended to die. To add to that, the cell was unlit, forcing him to try an see through the black. Hoping to calm himself, James reached into his jacket and pulled out his cassette tape. Placing the earbuds on his ears, he began listening to good ole American music. First up, "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane.

When finally relaxing, the door slid open. Light cast itself through the opening and past the figure that stood before him. Oh dear lord God, she is beautiful, he randomly thought. Before him, the red skinned woman said nothing, only eyeing him with astounding purple eyes surrounded by what looked like white circle tattoos. As she continued to stare at him, he noticed the sucker less, blue striped tentacles that made up her hair. What the hell are those?

"Hello, I am Jedi Master Shaak Ti," she said in a calm, soothing tone.

And first part done. Yay. More on the way if readers actually enjoy this. Please leave comments, no ranting and raving bullshit please.

Terms: Grunt=soldier (low rank)

Brass hat=high ranking officer

in country= in Vietnam

VC= Viet Cong (guerrilla combatants of North Vietnam)

Uncle Ho= Ho Chi Minh (leader of communist Vietnam)

Charlie=enemy