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Post #988328

Author
DuracellEnergizer
Parent topic
Star Wars: Knight of the Empire -- Revamped Edition *COMPLETE*
Link to post in topic
https://originaltrilogy.com/post/id/988328/action/topic#988328
Date created
27-Aug-2016, 4:26 AM

EXT. GEONOSIS – CONDAWN CITY – CONDAWN CAPITOL HOUSE – DAY

Located near the heart of Condawn City is the Condawn Capitol House. Once a resplendent monument at some early point in its long history, unnameable generations of wear and tear wrought by the planet’s harsh elements and fierce battles have left it only a little less nondescript – a little less shabby – than the buildings neighbouring it.

INT. CONDAWN CAPITOL HOUSE/CHLORIAN VADER’S QUARTERS/BED CHAMBER – DAY

Within the spacious chamber, Shmi lies beneath the dark brown silk sheets with GOVERNOR CHLORIAN VADER. A burly man in late middle age, Vader is at least ten years Shmi’s senior, somewhere in the neighbourhood of 115-120 years old. The two are making love – very passionate love.

With the climax, the two come apart. While Chlorian is content to lie where he is for the time being, Shmi wastes no time getting back into her clothes.

CHLORIAN VADER: You don’t have to get right back to work.

SHMI WARKA: (slips on her skirt) I know.

CHLORIAN VADER: Then come back. Lie with me.

SHMI WARKA: Chlor, I … have a lot on my shoulders.

Sitting up, Chlorian lays his hands upon her shoulders and begins kissing her back.

CHLORIAN VADER: Lot on your shoulders? I know how to fix that ….

SHMI: (frustrated) Chlorian, please ….

Getting up off the bed, Shmi picks up her blouse and pulls it on. Walking up to the full-length mirror before the bed, she begins buttoning up, the eyes of Chlorian’s reflection attent on her.

CHLORIAN VADER: What’s the problem, Shmi?

SHMI WARKA: (turns to him) It’s Darth.

CHLORIAN VADER: What about Darth?

SHMI WARKA: The police brought him in last night. After jumping a speeder, he led the ‘droids on a chase through the city on that damned skimboard of his.

CHLORIAN VADER: (upset) Was he hurt?!

SHMI: No! Thank the Force for that! But he could’ve been – or he could’ve gotten others hurt. (beat) Someone is going to get hurt. The more trouble he gets into, the more chances he takes – the worse he becomes.

The two just stare at one another silently for a moment.

SHMI WARKA: Darth needs a father.

CHLORIAN VADER: (sighs) We’ve discussed this ….

SHMI WARKA: (irate) Yes! Your precious wife on Jatir! (beat) Do you honestly believe there’s any chance – any real chance – she could ever find out about us?! Who would tell her?! Who would have reason to tell her?!

An ugly expression then comes upon Shmi’s face.

SHMI WARKA: (cont’d) I have reason to tell her.

Slipping on her shoes, Shmi turns to leave. Leaping out of bed, Chlorian stops her.

CHLORIAN VADER: Shmi, stop for a moment. Stop for a moment and think!

SHMI WARKA: I have, Chlor! I have! I’ve thought about what’s going to happen to our son at the rate he’s travelling! Chances are if he doesn’t get kicked out of school, he’ll drop out. Then he’ll move on from jumping speeders with his punk friends to trashing them. Then he’ll start using drugs, deathsticks or spice; he might even start dealing them. The downward spiral only continues from there. (beat) I’ve tried raising Darth right, tried being the best mother I could be for him. I’ve failed. He needs a father now, and you’re the best candidate for the job on this planet. (sneers) By God, you will do the job or I will make the journey to Jatir and tell the lovely Mrs. Chlorian Vader to her face how often and in how many different ways you’ve had me in your bed.

EXT. SPACE – GEONOSIS

The Sojourner, a YU-410 light freighter, makes its departure from Geonosis, sublight engines burning at maximum.

INT. SOJOURNER/COCKPIT

Within the cockpit sit ONGOONGO and KRELMAN. Ongoongo, the pilot, is a Geonosian while Krelman, the co-pilot, is a humanoid with a secondary mouth located atop his head.

ONGOONGO: (clicks in Geonosian)

KRELMAN: Coordinates for C-Foroon laid in. You can make the jump anytime.

ONGOONGO: (clicks in Geonosian)

Ongoongo reaches for the hyperdrive levers and pulls them back, launching the Sojourner into hyperspace.

CUT TO

Nine hours later.

As the streaming liquid energies of hyperspace coalesce to a far-distant point beyond the Sojourner’s cockpit viewport, the hatch into the cockpit slides open and RACHNE NOSTRO walks in. A handsome Vultan woman clad in gray-and-red coveralls and a matching cap, she is the Sojourner’s captain. Krelman, more than half-asleep at his station, barely registers her arrival.

RACHNE NOSTRO: (claps Krelman on shoulder) Krelman.

KRELMAN: (drowsy) Wha-huh? (shakes himself awake) Cap’n.

RACHNE NOSTRO: (smiles) Shift’s over. Get to your bunk and get some shuteye.

KRELMAN: (yawns) Alright, Cap’n. (picks up a mug of cold caf and downs the last of the contents through his secondary mouth) The station’s yours.

Krelman leaves the co-pilot’s seat, allowing Capt. Nostro to take his place.

RACHNE NOSTRO: By the time you wake up, Krelman, we’ll be at C-Foroon and we’ll all be billionaires.

KRELMAN: Finally. (beat) G’night, Cap’n.

ONGOONGO: (clicks in Geonosian)

KRELMAN: You too, Ongoongo.

RACHNE NOSTRO: Goodnight, Krelman.

Krelman departs.

Relaxing, Nostro reaches into a front pocket and pulls out a red metal flask. Unscrewing the cap, she takes a sip.

RACHNE NOSTRO: (offers the flask to Ongoongo) Take a swig?

The Geonosian accepts the flask and downs some of the golden yellow liquid inside.

ONGOONGO: (clicks in Geonosian)

RACHNE WEAVER: Precisely my thoughts.

As Ongoongo goes to hand the flask back to Nostro, the Sojourner begins shaking with violent turbulence. The flask is jolted out of the Geonosian’s hand, sending its contents spraying about the cockpit as the fabric of hyperspace disintegrates before their eyes and the Sojourner is wrenched out into realspace.

EXT. SPACE – TOWNOWI

The Sojourner has been forced to stop in the Townowi system, several light-years short of their intended destination, caught in the interdiction field generated by the battlemoon. Floating in a standstill over the white sphere of crystalline Townowi, the small freighter is not alone with the battlemoon; surrounding them both from all directions are hundreds of Star Destroyers, Venator-class Star Defenders, Nebulon-B escort frigates, and an assortment of varying heavy cruisers.

Detecting the Sojourner, the battlemoon intercepts the freighter, engaging and training a tractor beam upon the ship. Caught by the invisible gravity beam, the freighter is drawn towards the spherical station.

INT. SOJOURNER/COCKPIT

RACHNE NOSTRO: I don’t think we’re going to make it to C-Foroon on time.

INT. BATTLEMOON/OBSERVATION DECK

Aboard the battlemoon, a solitary figure stands on the observation deck alone, staring out the great transparisteel wall at the magnificent view of Townowi beyond. This is OFFICER SGW-0027, a clone admiral in the Athan Navy and commander of the battlemoon. Though clad head-to-foot in obscuring white robes, cloak, and niqab, we can still tell Sigeu is a woman by body language alone.

At that moment, the comlink attached to her left gauntlet CHIRPS. Raising comlink to niqab, she opens a channel.

UIY-2249: (O.S.) Admiral.

SGW-0027: Commander.

UIY-2249: Another trader ship has been brought aboard. How shall we proceed with the crew?

SGW-0027: Detain them for questioning.

UIY-2249: (O.S.) The usual it is, then. (beat) When would you like to begin the interrogation?

SGW-0027: When I’m in the mood, I’ll contact you, Commander.

UIY-2219: (O.S.) Quite right.

Done with the commander, Sigeu severs the connection. Turning her attention back to Townowi, she immerses herself in the crystalline globe.

INT. IMPERIAL BARRACKS/BUILDING E7 – EVENING

In this well-lit barracks building, several enlisted personnel are getting ready for lights out. On the surface, they appear no different from any other enlisted men. Looking closer, however, what distinguishes them soon becomes apparent; all of them, regardless of gender or species, are Jedi of one type or another.

Obi-Wan and Anakin are also there. At their bunk bed, the two Jedi finish up what small chores they have before getting ready to slip under the covers. Anakin, on the top bunk, makes some final calibrations to his lightsaber while Obi-Wan, on the bottom bunk, clears some lodged pebbles out from the grooves of his left boot.

ANAKIN: (finishes the calibration) There, that should do it.

Triggering the activation stud on his lightsaber, Nik engages the vibrant cyan blade. Moving the hilt around to get a feel for the blade and to hear its thrum as it moves through the air, he smiles.

TEYF BERAL: (O.S.) That’s a mighty fine-sounding blade you’ve got there, Jedi.

Looking toward the source of the voice, Anakin spies TEYF BERAL seated on the edge of his bunk directly across from him. A lean Duros male with viridian skin and scarlet eyes, he’s not much younger than Anakin himself.

ANAKIN: Yeah?

TEYF BERAL: Yeah. You wouldn’t mind lending it to me a moment, would you? Just to check it out?

ANAKIN: I have no problem with that. (disengages the lightsaber) Here.

Nik tosses the hilt to the Duros, who, snatching it from the air with effortless ease, activates it with one graceful movement.

TEYF BERAL: (testing the feel of the blade) Nice. Not as fine-tuned as mine, but nice.

ANAKIN: (cocks an eyebrow) Not as fine-tuned as yours, huh? Why don’t you show me this “fine-tuned” saber of yours, Jedi, and let me judge for myself?

TEYF BERAL: (deactivates the lightsaber) Sure thing.

Returning Anakin’s lightsaber to him, the Duros Jedi goes to his footlocker and opens it. Reaching inside, he pulls out a bronze lightsaber hilt.

TEYF BERAL: Here you are. (tosses the hilt to Anakin)

Catching the bronze hilt, Nik shifts it around until it sits comfortably in the palm of his left hand. With a sharp SNAP-HISS, he engages the blade of deep cerulean.

ANAKIN: (smirks) Good blade, fella, but not better than mine.

Disengaging Teyf’s lightsaber, Nik tosses it back to the Duros, who grumpily returns it to his footlocker.

TEYF BERAL: There’s only one sure way to settle this dispute.

ANAKIN: (grins) Which way’s that?

TEYF BERAL: (grins) With a duel. May the best blade win. How about it? Unless you’re something of a coward.

ANAKIN: Just name the time and place, pal.

TEYF BERAL: In the gymnasium at 2250 tomorrow.

ANAKIN: It’s a date!

OBI-WAN: (sighs) Boys, boys, boys. Bickering over blades is unbecoming of apprentices. You should be ashamed of yourselves.

TEYF BERAL: (cocks a brow) Who said anything about being an apprentice? I may very well be a full-fledged knight.

SEV BERAL: (O.S.) He isn’t, of course.

Almost appearing as if out of nowhere is SEV BERAL. Like Teyf, he, too, is a Duros. Unlike Teyf, however, he is older – with dark teal skin and deep crimson eyes; a seasoned Jedi Knight.

SEV BERAL: (to Teyf) You were getting ready for bed, weren’t you, apprentice?

TEYF BERAL: (humbled) Yes, Uncle. As soon as the lights are out, so am I.

OBI-WAN: (to Anakin) I assume the same is true for yourself?

ANAKIN: (quickly lies down on his bunk and places his hands behind his head) Oh, yeah. Consider me on Dream World.

SEV BERAL: (holds his open hand out to Obi-Wan) I’m Sev Beral, Jedi Knight of the Durosian Order.

OBI-WAN: (shakes Sev’s hand) Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Knight-errant. (beat) I haven’t seen you before. I take it you’ve been stationed here fairly recently?

SEV BERAL: (nods) I’ve spent the last eleven years out of the war, training Teyf and my son Jano on Duro. Now that they’ve completed their first trial together and built their first lightsabers, the time has come to leave sanctuary and join our brethren in the fight against the Clonemasters.

OBI-WAN: Perhaps you should have stayed on Duro. The Supremacy doesn’t hold much territory outside the Prackla sector anymore. Once we’ve broken their lines there, Cartao itself will soon fall into our hands. The war’ll be over within the year.

SEV BERAL: Then me and my boys will fight all the harder to end the war even sooner.

OBI-WAN: From your lips to God’s ears.

SEV BERAL: (grins) Which one?

Obi-Wan grins right back.

As this is happening, a young woman attired in the black uniform and rank insignia of a 1st lieutenant of the Imperial Army enters the building. As she walks over to Obi-Wan and Nik’s bunk, all four Jedi present snap to attention and greet her with salutes.

OBI-WAN KENOBI: Lt. Esson.

LT. ESSON: (returns the salutes) SgM. Kenobi, are you free?

OBI-WAN: (nods) How may I be of service, Lieutenant?

LT. ESSON: I’m here to see you about a reassignment, Sergeant.

OBI-WAN: Reassignment? But Anakin and I were to be stationed on the Resolute under the command of Capt. Wullf Yularen –

LT. ESSON: Please, Sergeant, if you’d just follow me …?

OBI-WAN: (gestures toward Anakin) What of my apprentice?

LT. ESSON: This is for his eyes as well.

Turning on her heels, the lieutenant departs. Obi-Wan and Nik exchange glances.

OBI-WAN: (to Sev) I guess we’ll continue our conversation another night.

INT. IMPERIAL BARRACKS/MESS HALL – EVENING

The two Jedi and the lieutenant stand within the mess hall, which is dark, silent, and empty for the night.

ANAKIN: I take it we’re not here for a midnight snack.

LT. ESSON: I have a message for you, Sgt. Kenobi.

Reaching into her tunic, Esson pulls out a hand-held holoprojector.

LT. ESSON: (hands the projector to Obi-Wan) It’s from Capt. Bail Organa.

Obi-Wan: (accepts the projector) Bail, hmm? I wonder what it is he has for me.

Obi-Wan presses a button set in the side of the holoprojector. Almost immediately, a monochromatic holographic recording of BAIL ORGANA’S head flickers into existence. Almost as if it could see Obi-Wan standing there, the transparent head smiles.

BAIL: Hello, Obi-Wan. I wish I could be there in person to talk to you, you slick trickster, but my duties have forced me elsewhere.

OBI-WAN: (half-smiles) So what else is new?

BAIL: (drops the smile) Three weeks ago, we lost contact with the Townowi system in the Arkanis sector. Just in case you don’t know, Townowi lies along the Crystal Passage, one parsec away from Geonosis. It serves as a junction between Geonosis and the rest of the Empire. (beat) Here’s the kicker, Kenobi. We haven’t simply lost contact with Townowi – we’ve been cut off from it.

Anakin frowns.

BAIL: That’s right – cut off. All primary, secondary, and tertiary routes into the system have been rendered impassable. We suspect the Supremacy has established interdiction fields at key points along the hyperlanes to effectively cut the Townowi system and all systems past it off from the rest of the Known Regions.

ANAKIN: But that’s impossible. The Clonemasters would have to use hundreds of inter-field generators and –

BAIL: (cont’d) That’s right – it should be impossible. They’d have to use hundreds of inter-field generators, all set up at key points in space parsecs apart to cover as many entry points as possible. It’s unfeasible. However, it seems that’s what’s been done.

OBI-WAN: Here’s where he comes to the point of the message.

BAIL: Obi-Wan, now’s where I come to the point of this message. The top brass has officially sanctioned a mission to send a team on a short reconnaissance mission into the Townowi system. We slip in aboard a small vessel, find out what the clones are doing, and then slip back out and return to Coruscant. (beat) Like I said, most conventional routes into the system have been cut off, but by charting a roundabout course along the bottom edge of Wild Space, we believe we can find a backdoor the Supremacy failed to cover. (beat) Kenobi, I want you for this mission. I’m not going to lie to you; this is going to be an extremely hazardous mission. We’re going to be travelling close to a region of space we know little about, along routes we’ve never charted before. We could all fly too close to a pulsar and find ourselves atomized. But you know how to strive under pressure – you proved that a thousand times over on Alderaan, Nabu, and Dania VII. Lord knows you’re invaluable. (beat) I’m not ordering you to do this, but I’d like your help. The vatheads are planning something, Obi-Wan, and whatever it is, it’s insidious.

With those final words, the recording comes to an end. Deactivating the holoprojector, Obi-Wan hands it back to Esson.

OBI-WAN: How soon do we leave?

EXT. SPACE – NAL HUTTA

Leaving the gravity well of Nar Shaddaa and it’s parent world Nal Hutta, the Scorekeeper’s Ryyk – a heavily modified J-type 327 Nubian starship – prepares to makes its entry into the extradimensional fabric of hyperspace.

INT. SCOREKEEPER’S RYYK/COCKPIT

Inside the Scorekeeper’s cockpit sit Llomon and Mahttoh. As can be expected, the Trandoshan sits in the pilot’s seat while the Wookiee sits in the co-pilot’s.

MAHTTOH: (in Shyriiwook, subtitled) So, which of the Jedi scum do we blast first? Kenobi on Coruscant or that Skywalker kid in the Toblerone system?

LLOMON: (in Dosh, subtitled) That’s Orron system, you matted hairball.

MAHTTOH: (subtitled) Whichever. We have to off one of them first, so which do we pick?

LLOMON: (subtitled) Why ask me? I don’t kriffing know.

MAHTTOH: (subtitled) We should go for whoever’s on the closest planet.

LLOMON: (subtitled) Let me bring up the star charts ….

Activating the navicomputer, the Trandoshan calls up star maps of the Orron and Coruscant systems.

LLOMON: (subtitled) The Coruscant and Orron systems are both of roughly equal distance away here.

MAHTTOH: (sighs; subtitled) I guess we’ll just have to flip for it. Do you have a coin?

LLOMON: (subtitled) Yeah, I’m sure I do ….

Reaching into a pocket on his flight suit, the Trandoshan fishes around for a loose coin. Finding one, he pulls it out.

LLOMON: (hands the coin to Mahttoh; subtitled) I don’t have the fingers for coin tossing. You do it.

Taking the coin, the Wookiee positions it over his left index finger and thumb.

MAHTTOH: (subtitled) Heads we go to Orron-whatever, tails we go to Coruscant. Call it.

LLOMON: (subtitled) Heads.

The Wookiee flips the coin.

EXT. SPACE

With the coin deciding for them, the bounty hunters chart a course into their navicomp and the Scorekeeper’s Ryyk makes the leap into hyperspace.