INT. GEONOSIS – GENERIC FAMILY HUT/LIVING AREA – TWILIGHT
The members of the typical Condawni family sit on their living area sofa, watching a news telecast on the holovid display.
The newscaster reveals that the situation on Geonosis has gotten worse. Resources are at an all-time low and violence at an all-time high. Mobs are looting supermarkets and even homes for food. Hospitals and clinics have been unable to adequately care for many of the injured due to dwindled medical supplies. Furthermore, thousands of desperate souls – hoping to somehow break the blockade – have been taking their starships – or stealing others’ – and leaving the system in droves. None have been heard from since.
INT. EQUIPMENT SHED/WORKSHOP – TWILIGHT
A workshop has been set up in the rear compartment of an equipment shed located somewhere on the grounds of Capitol Centre. Darth sits at the workbench, busy tinkering with a small motor, when his mother enters.
SHMI WARKA: Hi.
Darth barely turns his head to look at her.
DARTH: (cold) Hi.
Shmi walks up to Darth. Casually, she leans over him to see what he’s working on.
SHMI WARKA: What you up to?
DARTH: (irate) I’ve already done my homework, alright?
SHMI WARKA: I’m just curious to know what you’re working on.
DARTH: I’m just tinkering. A hobby, you know? I’m still allowed to have hobbies, right?
A moment of uneasy silence passes.
SHMI WARKA: Chlorian’s told me you’re doing well in school. You’re not playing hooky or skipping assignments anymore ….
DARTH: Yeah. Gov’nor’s a real hardass.
SHMI WARKA: (frowns) Please don’t talk about him that way.
DARTH: Why? Is he my dad or something?
SHMI WARKA: (swallows) Darth, I’m not here to fight with you.
DARTH: What are you here for?
SHMI WARKA: (irate) I’m your mother, goddammit!
DARTH: So?
SHMI WARKA: In the Holy’s name, are you going to be angry with me the rest of your life?!
DARTH: Just yours, Mommy. Just yours.
SHMI WARKA: (angry) Ungrateful shavit. How did I ever produce a child like you?
Fed up with her son’s attitude, she leaves.
EXT. CAPITOL CENTRE – FRONT GATE – TWILIGHT
Her work shift over, Shmi sits behind the controls of her aging green speeder, ready to leave and return home. As the gate slides open, she finds a wall of protesters cutting her off.
SHMI WARKA: (sticks her head out) Move out of the way!
Silent, eyes dark with smouldering anger, improvised weapons at hand, they approach. Shmi swiftly ducks back inside, but that proves no deterrent against the large cinder block which is then violently thrown against her windscreen, denting the pane of transparisteel.
As the mob rushes in around the speeder, one of their members reaches in through the open window before Shmi can roll her window up. She begins shouting and beating at the assailant, but neither keep him from grabbing her by the shirt and pulling her out through the window.
As Shmi is deposited on the hard ground, they begin kicking and clubbing her, turning her angry shouts of protestation into panicked screams of terror.
INT. BATTLEMOON/INTERROGATION CENTRE
Sigeu is busy torturing Ongoongo, burning him with the punishment gauntlet, when Uwe opens the doors.
SGW-0027: (irate) I have told you before not to disturb me here.
UIY-2249: You are wanted, Admiral.
SGW-0027: It can wait, whatever it is.
The admiral presses the gauntlet against Ongoongo’s chest. She gets a shrill, ululating Geonosian scream in response.
UIY-2249: You are needed, then, Admiral.
She turns back to the captain.
UIY-2249: (half-smiles) The athas seek an audience.
INT. BATTLEMOON/HOLOPROJECTION CHAMBER
A door slides open, allowing Sigeu entrance into the dark, spacious holoprojection chamber. As the door slides closed, she walks on over to a small round platform set in the floor in the centre of the chamber. As she steps atop it, THIRTEEN HOLOGRAPHIC FIGURES manifest in a circle around her. All larger than life, these are the members of the Athan Directorate.
SGW-0027: (bows to the athas) How may I be of service, my masters?
ATHA PRIME: Status report, Officer.
SGW-0027: We have neutralized the Imperial presence here. Townowi is firmly under our authority now.
ATHA NINE: And the interdiction zone? It holds?
SGW-0027: Aside from merchants and refugees caught leaving Geonosis, none but our own have entered the system since the inter-field generators went on-line.
ATHA ZERO: There have been no anomalies whatsoever?
SGW-0027: There are no anomalies to report.
ATHA PRIME: Very well, then. Dismissed.
Having said their piece, the athas discontinue the connection. The holograms fade, returning the chamber to complete blackness. Turning on her heel, Sigeu leaves.
INT. BATTLEMOON/CORRIDOR OUTSIDE HOLOPROJECTION CHAMBER
Uwe is waiting out in the corridor when Sigeu emerges from the holoprojection chamber.
SGW-0027: (approaches UIY-2249) From this moment forward, if you need to reach me in the interrogation centre, comm me. Do not intrude upon me unannounced again.
UIY-2249: (shrugs) As you like, Admiral.
EXT. CORUSCANT – GALACTIC CITY – CORUSCANT PLAZA – SUNSET
Through Coruscant Plaza – a large, wide-open plaza whereupon stand various shops and restaurants tailored to suit the various needs and wants of Coruscant’s residents and visitors – walk Siri and Uzochi hand-in-hand. A sufficient amount of time has passed since we last saw them together, enough for 'Chi to have grown comfortable to Siri’s presence.
As the two pass by a VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN selling cones from a small stand, 'Chi halts in his tracks, eyes fixed on the inviting insectoid.
UZOCHI: (tugs at Siri’s sleeve) Siri, ice cream!
SIRI: No, 'Chi. We have to be getting home.
UZOCHI: (begins hopping with enthusiasm) Please, Siri, please!
Stopping a moment, the Jedi Knight ponders on the situation. Coming to a conclusion, she sighs with frustration.
SIRI: Alright, but let’s make this quick. I don’t want a repeat of the other day with the toy store, okay?
UZOCHI: (grins) Thanks, Siri!
Rolling her eyes, Siri takes the small boy over to the ice cream stand.
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: (speaking through a translator) Hello, ma’am. What would you like today?
UZOCHI: Beebleberry-chocolate swirl!
SIRI: (to the Verpine) One cone of beebleberry-chocolate swirl.
Scooping out a blob of beebleberry-chocolate swirl, the Verpine plops it down onto a cone and hands it to the Jedi.
VERPINE ICE CREAM VENDOR: That’ll be two credits, please.
Fishing out the two credits, she hands them to the Verpine as she accepts the cone. Bending low, she hands the ice cream to 'Chi, who begins to lick it with great relish.
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: How about you, ma’am? Would you like anything?
SIRI: Hmmm ….
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: How about a scoop of magenge cream?
SIRI: Magenge cream?
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Yes, magenge cream. It’s made from magenge fungus, a favoured staple among my people.
SIRI: I knew that. I’ve just never had it before.
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Well now, this’ll be a new experience for you! Why not give it a try?
SIRI: (smiles) Oh, alright. It won’t kill me, after all. (frowns) Will it?
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Magenge is compatible with the Human digestive tract.
SIRI: That’ll be another two credits, right?
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Correct.
Siri gives the Verpine another pair of credits. Accepting them, he gives her a cone of pale green magenge cream.
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Give it a lick and tell me how it tastes.
Accepting the cone, Siri looks it over from a moment. She then sticks out her tongue and gives it a taste. Immediately, her eyes bug out.
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Is it to your liking?
SIRI: It’s excellent!
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Glad to hear it.
SIRI: Thank you!
VERPINE ICE CREAM MAN: Have yourself a pleasant evening, ma’am.
SIRI: You, too.
Taking Uzochi by his free hand, Siri leaves the ice cream stand.
EXT. GALACTIC CITY – TEMPLE DISTRICT – SUNSET
Now behind the wheel of her airspeeder, Siri flies over the city blocks of the Temple District, on a course for the Jedi Temple which rises from the cityscape like a giant in the distance.
INT. AIRSPEEDER/CAB – SUNSET
As Siri drives, 'Chi looks upon her fondly, a smile across his chocolate coloured face.
SIRI: (notices 'Chi’s stare) What’s up, 'Chi?
UZOCHI: Siri ….
SIRI: Yes?
UZOCHI: You’re nice to me. You take me to the park every day. You buy me ice cream. I like being with you.
SIRI: (smiles) That’s nice of you to say, 'Chi. I like being with you, too.
UZOCHI: I wish you were my mommy.
SIRI: (frowns) Why do you say that, 'Chi?
UZOCHI: (grows sullen) Mommy and Daddy are never around. They hate me.
SIRI: Oh, 'Chi, don’t say that! Your mommy and daddy love you more than the worlds themselves!
UZOCHI: Then why aren’t they ever home?
SIRI: 'Chi, the reason your mommy and daddy aren’t home so much is because they’re busy being Jedi. They’d like to be with you more, but they can’t right now.
UZOCHI: (frowns) Then why don’t they stop being Jedi?
SIRI: It’s not that easy, 'Chi.
UZOCHI: Why not?
SIRI: It’s hard to explain right now, but you’ll understand when you’re older, when it’s time for you to become a Jedi.
UZOCHI: Maybe I don’t want to be a Jedi.
SIRI: (sighs) Maybe you won’t, but give it time before you make up your mind, okay?
UZOCHI: Okay, Siri.
Reaching out with her right hand, Siri gives 'Chi’s shoulder a rub and a squeeze, a small smile coming to her lips.
EXT. GALACTIC CITY – ENTERTAINMENT STREET – NIGHTCLUB – SUNSET
Entertainment Street – with its smoggy air, run-down buildings, flickering lights, and disreputable-looking characters – lies at the heart of the world planet’s seedy underbelly, far from the well-maintained, gleaming chrome centres of civilization that serve as the planet’s public face to the rest of the Empire.
Arriving at the entrance to a grime-stained establishment bearing a blue neon “NIGHTCLUB” sign above its door are Llomon and Mahttoh.
INT. NIGHTCLUB – SUNSET
The bounty hunters enter the nightclub. Looking about the dingy interior, they see a number of clientele – all seedy and disreputable like the people outside – lounging around, nursing drinks and talking in hushed tones at the bar or in booths. Silently, they move forward across the room toward the bar.
As they stop before the grimy bar counter and plop down in a pair of seats, a Balosar sitting beside Mahttoh – VISS UTHAR – turns toward them.
VISS UTHAR: You wanna buy some deathsticks? I’m selling them at prime rates.
LLOMON: We don’t want any deathsticks.
VISS UTHAR: (leans forward) Oh, c’mon. You can’t tell me you don’t wanna buy –
Grabbing the Balosar by the back of the head, Mahttoh slams Uthar’s face down onto the counter. Pulling the Balosar’s face back up, exposing his bashed-in and bloody nose for all to see, the Wookiee then pushes him away, knocking his unconscious form to the floor.
Seeing this altercation, the Besalisk bartender XED is quick to reach under his counter and pull out a blaster rifle.
XED: Alright, ya twos. Ya gonna cause trouble, ya get out o’ here now!
With lightning speed, Mahttoh lunges forward, taking hold of the rifle barrel and wrenching it out of the Besalisk’s hands before he can pull the trigger. No longer armed, visibly frightened, the bartender takes several cautious steps back.
LLOMON: We’re not looking for trouble, just information.
XED: (stammering) I-i-information?
LLOMON: Yes. You see, we’re looking for someone, but we’re new to the planet and don’t know where he lives.
XED: Is t’at so?
MAHTTOH: (sneers) Yes.
LLOMON: Furthermore, he’s a Jedi.
XED: A Jedi.
LLOMON: We need to get in touch with someone who might have access to the information we seek. We would appreciate it if you’d give us a name and an address to such an individual.
XED: Sure, no problem. (beat) What ya gonna offer me for t’is info?
LLOMON: Your existence.
To punctuate this point, Mahttoh takes hold of either end of Xed’s blaster rifle and applies pressure, bending the weapon into a “V”.
XED: (swallows audibly) Point taken.
Llomon grins.
INT. WAYWARD SON/FORWARD HOLD
Sn. Mal’Akhi and Dr. Zosime Moulin currently stand together over a large crate, at work preparing supper. Opening metallic foil ration packets, the Barabel takes out the self-heating foodstuffs and arranges them on a makeshift platter, the Gungan at his side offering assistance.
SN. MAL’AKHI: (finishes arranging rectangular meat logs and sucks gravy off his fingers) And there we are.
Hefting the ersatz platter up, he turns around and starts off with Moulin for the main hold.
INT. WAYWARD SON/MAIN HOLD
A hatch opens, allowing the Barabel and Gungan entry into the Wayward Son’s main hold. Waiting for them – empty plates at the ready – is the rest of the crew.
DR. MOULIN: Dinner is served.
Making his way to each of the awaiting teammates, Mal’Akhi gives each of them a serving of each of the items on the tray in his hands.
KATHE NAAD: (looks down upon the food on her plate with distaste) What is it tonight?
ZOSIME MAL’AKHI: Processed meat logs in gravy, a slice of maize bread, and candleberry pudding for dessert.
KATHE NAAD: (takes a bite of meat log and immediately gags) When was this packaged? 8000 PE?
SN. ANDUE: (grins) There’s a reason they’re called MREs, little sister. Meals Regurgitated by Elom.
KATHE NAAD: Not even Elom would touch this food.
SN. MAL’AKHI: Sorry, Ms. Naad, but I’m only a gourmet chef. I can’t work miracles.
KATHE NAAD: This doesn’t require a miracle worker, just an undertaker. This stuff’s long overdue for a proper burial.
OBI-WAN: Just hold your nose, Kathe. It’ll go down easier.
Heeding the knight’s advice, the slender woman pinches her nose shut before taking another bite.
CMDR. CODY: We shouldn’t be going through our rations like this. We should be conserving them in the event we lose control of our vessel and end up stranded in unknown territory.
CMDR. VANESS: (smirks) Still quite the iron warhorse, aren’t you, Cody? (beat) Have you ever considered lightening up a bit, Commander?
CMDR. CODY: “Lightening up” has never saved anyone under my charge, Commander. Keeping an eye out for the future – being prepared – has.
ZOSIME MOULIN: (takes a seat with her own plate of food) Can we not get into another one of these conversations, please? I’d much prefer to eat in peace.
CMDR. VANESS: I have no problem with that. (to Cmdr. Cody) Do you?
Cody merely picks up his slice of bread and takes a bite.
KATHE NAAD: (turns to Obi-Wan) Sgt. Kenobi, I –
OBI-WAN: (holds up a hand) Please, Kathe, just call me Obi-Wan.
KATHE NAAD: (cont’d) Obi-Wan. (beat) I’ve been meaning to ask you this for some time now, and – well – I guess I’ve been a little shy to ask you before ….
OBI-WAN: (smiles) Go ahead. You can ask me anything.
KATHE NAAD: How long have you been in the service?
OBI-WAN: Over five years now. I enlisted shortly after I was knighted.
KATHE NAAD: And you’ve already attained the rank of sergeant major?
OBI-WAN: (solemn) Only at the expense of friends and allies lost to this war. (beat) It’s not an achievement I take pride in.
KATHE NAAD: What’re your plans for the future, after the war’s over?
OBI-WAN: (smiles) Siri – my wife – thinks I should return to the Academy and work towards earning a commission. Personally, I feel like hanging up my armour and leaving the soldier’s life behind me when all’s said and done. (beat) I think I’ll take a course in journalism, become a reporter.
KATHE NAAD: I’ve never heard of Jedi reporters.
OBI-WAN: Oh, there are some.
KATHE NAAD: (to Nik) Do you have any future plans?
ANAKIN: I’ll be returning to Orron III to live with my girlfriend and her parents on their farm.
KATHE NAAD: (grins) No grandiose plans to become the next galactic superhero celebrity? Don’t the prospects of owning sixteen-hundred mansions on every major world in the Inner Core with harems of beautiful women in each hold any appeal?
ANAKIN: (laughs) No. I’ve grown content to live the rest of my life a farmer. I used to dread the idea, but after five years of fighting, I think I’ve had my fill of gallivanting around the Galaxy.
KATHE NAAD: So you’ll hang up your lightsaber? Quit being a Jedi?
ANAKIN: Well, no. I won’t go out looking for adventure, but if my services as a Jedi Knight are needed, I’ll be there. I’ll always be a Jedi. (looks down at his lightsaber) Any kids I have will also be raised Jedi. My firstborn will receive my lightsaber when they’re old enough.
KATHE NAAD: (smiles) Well, I think you’d make a great dad.
ANAKIN: (returns her smile) Thanks. I like to think so, too.
EXT. CORUSCANT – GALACTIC CITY – ENTERTAINMENT STREET – ALLEY – EVENING
Llomon and Mahttoh make their way through the dank alley, navigating around piles of refuse until they come to a doorway with a sickly green light burning above it. Standing in the shadows of the doorway, almost invisible inside his dirty black jacket, is TAAR PFAALL, a Gran information broker. Though relatively young, his sagging skin, missing teeth, and cataracted eyes make him appear far older than his years.
TAAR PFAALL: (raises his right arm in greeting) Ho!
LLOMON: (irate) Quiet! Are you trying to draw attention to us?!
TAAR PFAALL: Do you really believe anyone living in this district cares what you’re here for? (grins) Offworlders. You’re so cute. (gestures toward the door) Of course, if you’re so worried about being seen, you’re welcome to come inside. I can fix you both a mug of ardees.
LLOMON: Never mind that. I want to get out of this offal pit before its stench seeps into my skin.
TAAR PFAALL: Very well. (reaches inside his jacket and pulls out a datacard) Here’s what you wanted.
The Gran tosses the datacard to Mahttoh. The Wookiee catches it and slips it into a datapad on hand.
TAAR PFAALL: It took some digging, but I found what you’re looking for. Your Obi-Wan Kenobi lives in Apartment 53 of the 662 Gasgor Valley complex. Not the swankiest of outfits, but still not a half-bad place to call home.
MAHTTOH: (frowns) It says here that the apartment is rented by a Siri Tachi.
TAAR PFAAL: That’s Kenobi’s wife. The rental agreement is in her name.
MAHTTOH: (to Llomon) I thought Human women took their mate’s surname in marriage.
LLOMON: (shrugs) I can’t make heads nor tails of Human marriage customs. They’re completely alien to me.