INT. NAR SHADDAA – CHANCE CASTLE/CORRIDOR – EVENING
Slipping discreetly inside, Llomon and Mahttoh are led by Jukassa’s man to a door guarded by his comrade-in-arms. After exchanging salutes with his peer, the guard steps aside and opens the door leading through to the dark room inside.
INT. CHANCE CASTLE/JUKASSA’S QUARTERS/LIVING AREA – EVENING
Stepping inside, the three find Jukassa seated in a spacious armchair in wait for them, an active datapad in his hand. The former despot is reading the contents of the pad casually and without haste, seemingly oblivious to the presence of his guests.
GUARD #2: Lord-Commandant.
Taking his eyes away from the pad, Jukassa focuses them on his servant. In all other regards, he remains statue still.
GUARD #2: (gestures toward the Trandoshan and Wookiee) These are Llomon and Mahttoh, lord, the bounty hunters I sought out for you.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: Yes, I know. (to the bounty hunters) You can come forward. (to the guard) You – leave.
As the guard steps away to leave the room, it is clear from his body language that in spite of his own bearing as a born-and-bred warrior, he lives in abject fear of this ex-tyrant. As the pair of merciless killers step toward Jukassa, on the other hand, it is clear that whatever emotion the man elicits from them, it certainly isn’t fear.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: You’re precisely on time. I admire that in a being. Were either of your races bred for punctuality?
LLOMON: (sneers) What?
YAJUJ JUKASSA: (cocks an eyebrow) No, I gather not. Still, your races have potential. They would do well to adopt eugenic programs in the near future.
LLOMON: (matter-of-factly) You have a job for us.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: Yes – yes, indeed I do. (beat) My name is Yajuj Jukassa, out of Lilitu by Majuj. Have you heard of me?
MAHTTOH: No.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: (sighs) Unfortunate. (beat) I was the Lord-Commandant of Ophuchi, the 45th of one-hundred sons. Ours was a proud dynasty, one which endured for over twelve generations. We shepherded our people faithfully, keeping them free of genetic contamination and regression.
LLOMON: How sad. What point are you driving at?
YAJUJ JUKASSA: (frowns) My point is that I was dethroned and exiled. In disgrace I was forced to leave my Ophuchi – my beautiful, gem-oceaned Ophuchi – for this rancid Hutt cesspool. Forced by infidels and traitors to wallow amongst genetically impure filth. (angry) I crave retribution! It will be mine!
Taking the datapad in his hand, Jukassa hurls it across the room, dashing it to a thousand pieces against the far, marble-inlaid wall.
LLOMON: We aren’t mercenaries.
MAHTTOH: If you want help retaking your world, hire the Federation Neimoidia.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: I’m not looking to recapture the throne. I’m too keenly aware that I don’t have the finances to support such a crusade. All I seek is a pure and final revenge.
LLOMON: Who’s our target?
YAJUJ JUKASSA: Your targets (reaches inside his tunic) are these.
Withdrawing a pair of photographs, Jukassa hands them to Llomon. Taking the squares of flexible plastic, the lizard man looks them over.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan Kenobi. Jedi.
MAHTTOH: Jedi?
YAJUJ JUKASSA: They humiliated me in dishonourable combat. They have earned my wrath above all others.
LLOMON: Jedi will cost you extra.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: All that I still have will be yours if need be. Honour is of greater worth to me than coin.
MAHTTOH: What info do you have on this Kenobi and Skywalker?
YAJUJ JUKASSA: What I have compiled I have saved to datacard for your perusal.
Reaching back into his tunic, Jukassa pulls out a datacard.
YAJUJ JUKASSA: The basics, though, are these: Kenobi shares a home with his wife on Coruscant. Skywalker, meanwhile, calls the Corporate Sector home. He lives on one of the planets in the Orron system.
EXT. TOWNOWI – IMPERIAL RESEARCH STATION – DAY
On the crystalline surface of the planet, standing out like a sore thumb against its brilliant blue-white surroundings, is a short tower panelled with drab gray metal. This tower is a research station owned and operated by the Empire. Directly adjacent to the station is a small landing pad, upon which rests a Theta-class shuttle.
Various figures, each encased in environment suits to shield their bodies and lungs from the unbreathable caustic air of Townowi, are in the process of evacuating the station for the shuttle.
One of the suited figures – a female Rodian – halts in her tracks before the open hatch of the shuttle. Turning around, she grabs the shoulders of a male Gran following behind her, bringing him to a halt as well.
FEMALE RODIAN: Where are Tranya and oYu’rE?
MALE GRAN: They’re still inside. There’s some equipment they don’t want left behind.
FEMALE RODIAN: (incredulous) What!? Are they mad?! We have to get going before the –
At that, an OMINOUS SOUND begins to course through the air – that of two pairs of twin ion engines screaming through the midnight green sky. Though faint in the distance, they are quickly growing louder.
FEMALE RODIAN: Oh gods!
Wasting no more breath, the two colleagues hurry to climb aboard the shuttle.
As oYu’rE and Tranya finally emerge from the station, hauling a crate between them, a pair of TIE fighters flanked by four Y-Wing fighters emerge from the turbulent sky of Townowi. All sporting distinctive white wing panels/paint jobs, the fighters clearly belong to the Athan Supremacy.
Waiting no longer, the crew of the Theta begin closing the hatch. Deciding that the equipment they carry isn’t worth their lives, Tranya and oYu’rE drop the crate and break out into a run for the Theta. It’s a decision made too late, however. As the shuttle lifts off, both researchers make running leaps for the closing hatch, but only Tranya manages to hook his arms over it. Before he can pull himself up, over, and through, however, the hatch closes completely, shearing his arms off and sending him plummeting back down to the ground.
Turning in the air, the shuttle takes off at top speed in the direction opposite the approaching Athan fighters as they finally arrive over the station.
While the two TIE fighters break off in pursuit of the fleeing Theta, the Y-Wings stay behind to take care of the station itself. Releasing a barrage of proton torpedoes, they obliterate the tower completely, reducing it, Tranya, and oYu’rE all down to their basic component elements.
EXT. SKY – DAY
As the shuttle heads off on a trajectory towards outer space, the TIEs close in on it, releasing streams of red plasmafire which pepper the shuttle with jarring impact. The Theta’s deflector shields manage to hold, however, barely protecting the ship as it continues upon its escape.
EXT. SPACE – TOWNOWI
Leaving the crystalline planet, the Theta heads off toward deep space. Unfortunately for the small craft, an Athan battlemoon lies in its path. A perfect sphere 36 km in diametre, the battlemoon’s gunmetal gray surface is almost flawlessly smooth save for a single pit which protrudes from its equatorial region. This is the battlemoon’s primary weapon, a superlaser powerful enough to crack open a continent.
The battlemoon engages a tractor beam and locks on the shuttle, pulling the tiny ship into one of its docking bays.
INT. ORRON III – DUQUESNE HOMESTEAD/NASHIRA’S BEDROOM – EVENING
Curled up nude under the covers, Nashira lies asleep on the right side of her bed. Her face serene in slumber, she unconsciously reaches out to the left side of her bed. When she finds nothing there, her eyes slowly open.
NASHIRA: Nik?
Taking care to keep her breasts covered against the slight night chill of the room, 'Shira sits up in bed. Before the open door of the bedroom, clad only in a pair of boxer briefs, stands Anakin, stock-still with his back turned to his girlfriend.
NASHIRA: Anakin, what are you doing? Return to bed.
Nik turns to face 'Shira. His eyes, dark and wet with shed tears, burn straight through into her soul.
ANAKIN: (voice breaking) Nashira – don’t follow me.
Turning back away from her, the young Jedi steps out of the bedroom.
NASHIRA: (alarmed) Anakin, what’s wrong? Wait!
Rising from her bed, 'Shira quickly slips on her robe and follows her lover out the door.
EXT. DESOLATE WORLD – DAY (DREAM)
Stepping through the door, Nashira immediately finds herself standing on an alien world. The surface of this alien world is a dried-up riverbed, the sky above dim brown with swirling dust. Anakin stands before her, now clad in black robes and armour, his handsome face livid with rage.
ANAKIN: (angry) I told you not to follow me! Why didn’t you listen to me, Nashira?! Why?!
In fear of her lover, 'Shira turns around to retreat back through the doorway. Unfortunately for her, it has vanished. In its place now stands a WOMAN. Dressed in robes of vermilion and aureolin, the jet-black tresses of her waist-length hair beaded with precious gemstones, the woman is humanoid, with bright red skin, a pair of short facial tentacles dangling from her cheeks, and a slight simian cast to her facial features. She is an attractive creature, though not in a conventional sense.
NASHIRA: Who are you?
The woman refuses to answer. Before 'Shira can repeat her question, several vines suddenly erupt from the ground around the girl. Entangling her before she can escape, they seize her in an unbreakable hold and pull her down to her knees before the strange woman.
RED-SKINNED WOMAN: I am the past.
Raising a single arm, the humanoid woman points at Anakin.
RED-SKINNED WOMAN: (cont’d) He is the future.
The vines realign themselves, turning 'Shira around to face Anakin. Anakin, though, is no longer Anakin. He has been transformed into a petrifying TRANDOSHAN-WOOKIEE HYBRID.
As Nashira releases a bloodcurdling SCREAM, the creature that was once Anakin reaches to the lightsaber hanging from its belt and unclips it. Engaging a dark blue blade, it brings the weapon down on 'Shira’s head, cleaving her right in half.
INT. ORRON III – DUQUESNE HOMESTEAD/NASHIRA’S BEDROOM – EVENING
With a cry, Nashira bolts upright in bed. Breathing and sweating heavily, she turns to her right. Beside her, fast asleep and snoring lightly, is a very Human Anakin.
ANAKIN: (mumbling) If you don’t eat your meat, you can’t have any pudding. How can you have any pudding if you don’t eat your meat …?
Slowly, cautiously, 'Shira lies back down. She remains wide awake, though, her eyes fixed open, unblinking.
INT. DUQUESNE HOMESTEAD/DINING AREA – DAY
It is another brand new day on this side of Orron III. Corin is busy brewing a fresh batch of caf when Siri comes staggering in through the doorway, her eyes dark and her hair mussed from sleep.
CORIN: (turns to regard Siri) Can I fix you a cup?
SIRI: (combing her hair with her fingers) Yes – please!
Corin takes out two mugs and fills them to the brim with steaming black caf as Siri plops herself down at the table.
CORIN: How do you take it?
SIRI: As black as a singularity in the centre of the Maw Cluster.
CORIN: Pretty black, then.
Picking the mugs up, Corin takes care not to spill any of the hot caf as she carries them over to the table. Setting them down, she slides Siri’s over to her before taking a seat opposite the Jedi. Picking up the mug, Siri takes a sip.
CORIN: Good?
SIRI: (smiles) Yes, very good. Thank you.
CORIN: (takes her own sip) You’re leaving for Coruscant today.
SIRI: Yes. Obi-Wan and Anakin have to return to active duty within two weeks and I’ll have to report to the Jedi Council for my next assignment. Who knows? I’ll likely be assigned to the front along with the boys.
CORIN: Siri, how are you? About the baby, I mean.
SIRI: (sighs) I’m still grieving, but it’s easier. (smiles) Being here has helped.
Returning Siri’s smile, Corin reaches out and touches Siri’s hand, giving it a gentle, supportive squeeze.
INT. DUQUESNE HOMESTEAD/ANAKIN’S BEDROOM – DAY
Anakin is busy making his bed when Nashira appears in the doorway. Standing there, she regards him silently until he turns his head her way, noticing her for the first time.
ANAKIN: (grins) Hey.
NASHIRA: (smiles weakly) Hey.
ANAKIN: Well, come on in. I won’t bite.
Tentatively, 'Shira enters the bedroom. Noticing her grave expression, he stops making the bed and approaches her.
ANAKIN: (rests his hands on her shoulders) What’s with the long face? Something wrong?
NASHIRA: (gazing into his eyes) Nik ….
ANAKIN: Yes?
Seizing him in a tight hold, Nashira hugs her man close to her.
NASHIRA: Don’t go, Anakin. Please, don’t go.
ANAKIN: I’ll miss you too, 'Shira, but I’ll be back – I promise.
NASHIRA: I had a dream last night – a nightmare. You were in my room and you were crying. You told me not to go with you, then you stepped through the door. I ignored your warning and followed after you, followed you through to some barren desert planet. There was a woman there – this strange red-skinned woman. She said that she was the past, you were the future. Then … then ….
Pulling away from Nik, she stares at him gravely.
NASHIRA: (cont’d) You changed. You changed into this … this … hairy, scaly thing, took out your lightsaber – only it wasn’t your lightsaber – ignited it, then …. Stars, Nik! It was horrible!
ANAKIN: (runs his fingers through her hair) It was just a dream, babe. (laughs) I promise you, I’m not going to change into a hairy, scaly thing. When I get back, I’ll be my great, gorgeous self, just as always. You’ll see.
NASHIRA: (takes hold of his wrist and pulls his fingers out of her hair) It was a warning, Anakin. Something’s going to happen to you out there, and it’ll change you. When I see you again, you won’t be you. You’ll be someone else.
ANAKIN: (sighs) It was a dream, honey. Just a plain, straightforward, random-firing-of-neurons dream. Believe me, I know. I’ve had some pretty intense dreams myself, and plenty of times I was convinced they were inspired by some insight into the Force. Most of the time, nothing came of them. (beat) If it can happen to me, it can happen to you. Don’t sweat over it.
Kissing 'Shira gently on the forehead, Nik returns to making his bed. Nashira just stands there silently, anxiously, watching him work.
EXT. DUQUESNE HOMESTEAD – SUNSET
Later in the day, the DuQuesne family, the Kenobis, and the Skywalker kid make their final farewells. Climbing into a rented speeder, the latter three take off, waving goodbye to their hosts.
As Nemec, Corin, and Nashira stand there, watching the three Jedi shrink into the distance, the young girl’s features darken, her brow creasing with worry.