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Star Wars: Knight of the Empire -- Revamped Edition *COMPLETE*


As I promised, here’s the new draft of my Ep. II re-write-in-progress, Knight of the Empire.

I’m presently working on the first new scene with Darth on Geonosis, and it should be ready for posting within a couple days. In preparation for that, I’m going to start reposting the stuff already ready for prime time. I’m going to place the reposted material in quote blocks; that way it’ll be easier for the reader to discern between the old and new material.

Just as an aside, I have made minor revisions to the old material to fix the clunkier dialogue and descriptions. None of the revisions really tie in to the new scenes I’m writing up, so you don’t have to read them if you don’t feel up to it, though.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.


TITLE CARD: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away …

A vast sea of stars serves as the main backdrop for the main title, followed by a roll up, which crawls up into infinity.



Five years have passed since Anakin Skywalker was discovered on the desert world of Tatooine by Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi and taken on as his apprentice. In that time under Obi-Wan’s tutelage Anakin has learned much, emerging as an acolyte for the light side of the Force.

United under the banner of the Galactic Empire, Obi-Wan and Anakin have fought against the genetic hordes of the malevolent Clonemasters, defending the Known Galaxy from the insidious White Peril.

But as the power of the Clonemasters slowly wanes, another force for evil – a darkness out of the ancient past – stirs, threatening to re-emerge and take the Galaxy for itself.


To reveal the head and shoulders of a man hung upside down, his eyes open and glazed over in death.


To reveal that the man is a dead Imperial trooper strung upside down from a gnarled, dead tree. Beyond the tree, in a field situated between the tree and a large duracrete fortress, a fierce battle is underway.


The TROOPERS OF THE IMPERIAL ARMY are engaged in pitched, deadly battle with the GEN-TEMPLARS OF THE OPHUCHI ARMY. Attired in dark gray armour and open-faced helmets, the Imperials are easily distinguished from the Gen-Templars, who wear gleaming black armour and face-concealing helmets with mirrored visors.

Like a living wave, the Imperial troopers press against the Templars, mowing down those they can catch in their sights with green blasterfire. The Templars counterattack, reciprocating with their own yellow plasmafire. Many soldiers on both sides go down with screams of agony, but those who remain press on, using sheer force of will to continue against their opponents.

Moving out from the star-studded night sky, two Nu-class attack shuttles descend over the battlefield. As the Imperial ships approach the epicentre of the warzone, Gen-Templars train their plasma cannons on the craft and begin opening fire. Making a series of twists and turns, the first shuttle manages to evade the plasmafire, but the second is not so lucky; caught in a crossfire, it erupts into a vibrant fireball and then plummets like an ungainly phoenix to the ground below.

Coming to a stop amongst the Imperial troops, the sides of the attack shuttle slide open, allowing a new squad of troopers to pour out. Standing side-by-side at the head of the squad, adorned in gray trooper armour and burgundy cloaks identifying them as Jedi non-coms, are the knights OBI-WAN KENOBI and his apprentice ANAKIN SKYWALKER. The two Jedi have changed much in the years since we saw them last; Obi-Wan sports long hair and a slight beard while Anakin has grown taller and honed with lean musculature.

As one, the two Jedi draw their lightsabers, pressing the activation studs of their weapons; two blades – one azure, the other cyan – ignite with a pair of sharp SNAP-HISSES. Bringing their weapons to bear, the sergeant and corporal lead their squad into the fray against the armoured Gen-Templars. Though the pinnacle of Ophuchi eugenic science, the black-armoured soldiers prove to be little match against two Jedi. One-by-one, they fall to the glowing plasma blades of the two mystical warriors.

ANAKIN: (blocks a blaster bolt with his lightsaber) These guys are supposed to be the end result of five centuries of controlled, selective breeding, right?

OBI-WAN: (literally disarms a Templar) That’s correct.

ANAKIN: (kicks a Templar in the face) So why do they fight like Hutts coming from an all-you-can-eat buffet?

OBI-WAN: Pride and perfection go hand-in-hand. The greater the perfection, the greater the pride.

ANAKIN: And pride comes before a fall.

OBI-WAN: Though I detest cliches, you’re correct again.

ANAKIN: (grins) This isn’t going to be on the pop quiz tomorrow, is it?

Working together, Nik and Obi-Wan cut a swath through the Templars, working their way closer towards their final destination: the towering fortress beyond.


Standing on a balcony that overlooks the fierce battle beyond, his face twisted in a scowl, is LORD-COMMANDANT YAJUJ JUKASSA, the despot of Ophuchi. A beefy man with a short beard and perfect hair, he wears a black cloak over a dark blue military uniform.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (angry) This isn’t right! This is wrong – all wrong!

With a flashy toss of his cloak, Jukassa turns around to regard his companion, a COLDLY BEAUTIFUL RATTATAKI WOMAN dressed in white cloak, robes, and veil.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (approaches the woman) The Imperials are overwhelming my troops – troops that are supposed to be faster, more intense, than mere Imperial soldiers! (beat) You promised us victory!

JOY-1017: (half-smiles) Am I to blame for the complete failure of your eugenics program?

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (points his finger at her) Don’t take that tone with me! You’re only here by my blessing!

JOY-1017: (grins evilly) Are you threatening me, Lord-Commandant?

Seeing that shark-like grin, Jukassa goes silent, his expression of anger replaced with one of fear.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: They’re going to spoil everything we’ve worked towards. They’re going to capture this fortress and Project Overman is going to fall into their hands.

JOY-1017: Our failure doesn’t guarantee their success, Lord-Commandant.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: What do you mean? (beat) Are you saying …?

She nods.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (sighs) Will you cover me?

JOY-1017: I will keep them from flaying your hide long enough for you to get the job done.

Running a hand through his immaculate hair, Jukassa leaves the balcony. JOY-1017, like a graceful swan, moves along after him.


Breaking through to face the last line of Gen-Templars, Obi-Wan and Anakin come across an awesome sight. Engaged in battle against six armoured Templars, a double-bladed vibrostaff in her hands, is a FEMALE MANDALORIAN WARRIOR encased in violet-blue armour.

As two of the Templars attack the female Mandalorian, slashing their wrist-mounted vibroblades through the air, she pivots on her heels, turning to the side to simultaneously decapitate one warrior while running the other through. Pulling her blade free, she twists it around as another Templar attacks. As the ebon-armoured soldier throws his bladed gauntlet forward, she locks their blades together, twisting hers fiercely until she causes his wrist to dislocate. As he howls with pain, she throws her leg up, kicking him squarely in the head and ending his part in the fight.

Before she can dislodge her vibrostaff blade, two of the remaining three Gen-Templars pounce, tackling her to the ground. As they pin her to the ground, the third Templar retrieves her vibrostaff. As she struggles to free herself from the Templars’ combined grip, the black-armoured warrior with her weapon positions himself over her, raising the staff high above his head as he prepares to run her through.

Unsheathing a vibroblade, Anakin activates it, pulls back his arm, then sends the weapon hurtling through the air toward the vibrostaff-equipped Templar at tremendous velocity. As the blade of vibrating durasteel plunges into the Gen-Templar’s back, he screams, dropping the vibrostaff.

Having moved her legs into a better position, the Mandalorian pushes up with her legs, somersaulting herself free of the two Templars’ grasp. With a heavy punch and kick, she lays the two warriors down before they can even take a breath. Retrieving her vibrostaff and Anakin’s own vibroblade, she turns toward the two Jedi. Lifting both weapons up, she points them at the knight and apprentice.

KANNEN DOOM: It’s about time you hauled ass over here.

Deactivating the vibroblade, she tosses it back to Anakin. Throwing his hand up, he catches it effortlessly.

KANNEN DOOM: (cont’d) I figured you were going to leave me to take the fortress all by my lonesome.

ANAKIN: (grins) Lady, someday they’re going to put together history records on this battle. I don’t know about Obi-Wan, but I’m not content being relegated to the footnotes.

KANNEN DOOM: If history’s to be made, then let’s make it.

Leaving the Imperial troopers to take on what remains of the Ophuchi Army, the two Jedi and their Mandalorian escort enter the duracrete fortress.


A squad of ebon-armoured Gen-Templars stands before the closed doors of a turbolift, watching the numbers on the readout change as the cab within descends.

As the turbolift reaches its destination, the doors slide open. Wasting no time the Templars open fire, unloading a hail of yellow blasterfire into the turbolift. Several seconds pass and then they lower their weapons.

Stepping forward, the leader of the squad looks inside the blaster-scored interior of the turbolift; there are no bodies to be found – living or dead – inside.

GEN-TEMPLAR: (turns toward his men) There’s no one inside!

As he steps back out of the turbolift, the top hatch of the cab is blown inward, allowing the Mandalorian and two Jedi to leap down from above. Spinning around, the Gen-Templar only has time to bring his blaster up before Anakin engages his lightsaber and slices the soldier’s arm off at the elbow. Kicking the ebon-armoured Templar in the gut, Nik knocks him out of the way. Then, with Obi-Wan and Kannen at his side, he makes short work of the remaining Gen-Templars.

ANAKIN: These guys are just too easy.

KANNEN: (points down a specific tunnel) The chamber’s down that way.

Wasting no more time, the trio heads down the tunnel.


Entering an antechamber at the end of the tunnel, the three compatriots find themselves facing a large vault door.

KANNEN DOOM: As sharp as my staff is, it isn’t quite up to the task of cutting through durasteel. You boys wouldn’t mind giving me an assist?

Engaging his lightsaber, Obi-Wan steps up to the door, thrusting his blade deep into the durasteel plating. With minimal effort, he begins carving through the thick door. Activating his own lightsaber, Anakin moves in to assist him. Once they complete the circuit, they disengage their lightsabers and kick the freed metal out of the way.

OBI-WAN: (points at the hole) Ladies first.

KANNEN DOOM: Much obliged.

Ducking down, Kannen slips through the hole into the chamber beyond. Ducking down, the two Jedi follow after.


Stepping through the makeshift doorway, the trio finds itself within a vast cloning chamber. Cylindrical in shape, the chamber stretches down farther than the eye can see. Spaced along the walls of the chamber, all containing identical Human figures, are thousands upon thousands of Spaarti cloning cylinders. Catwalks lead from the walls to a platform surrounding a large power conduit situated in the centre of the chamber. Standing on the platform, busy at work on a computer console, is Yajuj Jukassa with the white-clad JOY-1017 by his side.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (to JOY-1017) They’re here already! You said we’d have more time!

JOY-1017: (sighs) Just continue working on the computer. I’ll deal with our party-crashers.

As Jukassa continues working on the console, JOY-1017 turns and walks down the catwalk toward the three new arrivals.

JOY-1017: Welcome, Jedi, to our humble cloning chamber. (stops midway on the catwalk, gesturing to the Spaarti cylinders) As you can see, over four-thousand clones of Ophuchi warrior stock are in utero. Within four months, they will reach maturity and emerge to serve the Supremacy. (beat) Of course, that was the goal before you came here, overwhelmed Jukassa’s pitiful forces, and foiled our plans.

OBI-WAN: Do us both a favour and surrender peaceably.

JOY-1017: Surrender? (smiles) Perhaps at the end, after Jukassa takes the cylinders off-line, killing every clone and leaving your Imperial Starfleet one conscript battalion short.

OBI-WAN: (frowns) That’s just not going to happen.

JOY-1017: (grins) Try to stop me.

OBI-WAN: We won’t try.

Bringing their weapons to bear, the Jedi and Mandalorian begin moving down the ramp towards the Rattataki. Grinning like a shark, she unclasps her cloak, allowing it to fall away from her shoulders, then causes a pair of short black lightsaber hilts to slip down from hidden sheathes under her sleeves into her hands. Pressing the activation studs, she engages two short, pure white blades and moves to attack the Imperial agents.

With the reflexes of a darting snake, JOY-1017 engages the three others, using the blades of her twin shotos to intercept their blows. Without enough room on the catwalk to fan out, the two Jedi and the Mandalorian find themselves unable to properly assault the insidious Force-wielder.

JOY-1017: (laughs) The Athas hold you in such high esteem!

As Anakin moves to run his lightsaber through JOY-1017, she side-steps the blade and counterattacks. Throwing himself backward, Nik barely manages to avoid losing his throat to one of her white blades.

JOY-1017: (cont’d) Surely you can do better!

ANAKIN: Better?

Springing up into the air, Nik somersaults over the woman’s head and lands behind her.

ANAKIN: (cont’d) How’s this for better?

Now less encumbered, Anakin swings his cyan blade, aiming to connect it with the Rattataki’s throat. Bringing up a shoto, she blocks it.

As the four duel on, Jukassa continues working at the console. With a press of a button, the main red light on the console turns to white.


RATTATAKI WOMAN: How far along are you, Jukassa?!

YAJUJ JUKASSA: I’ve broken the encryption! I’m entering the commands to shut the cylinders down now!

KANNEN DOOM: Hell with that!

Pushing Obi-Wan back out of her way, Kannen moves to bring all the power she can bear against the white-robed woman. Swinging her double-bladed Mandalorian iron vibrostaff with the ferocity of a gundark, she makes the Rattataki work hard to intercept both her blows and Anakin’s.

OBI-WAN: Anakin, stop him!

ANAKIN: (parries one of JOY-1017’s strikes) But Obi –

OBI-WAN: We can take her! Deal with Jukassa!

With a moment’s hesitation, Nik turns his back on the white-robed woman and races down the catwalk toward Jukassa.

Throwing herself forward, Kannen cartwheels across the catwalk, kicking JOY-1017 in the back as she passes her. JOY-1017 stumbles forward but manages to right herself before she can topple into Obi-Wan. Grinning, she locks blades with both the Mandalorian and the Jedi Knight.

JOY-1017: You’re an excellent fighter, Mandalorian. We could use your stock. Why don’t you join us? The Mandalorian civilization can live again.

KANNEN DOOM: I’d sooner see every remaining Mandalorian in the grave.

JOY-1017: Pity.

Pushing downward, JOY-1017 forces the blades of her combatants down against the catwalk.

As Anakin reaches Jukassa, the lord-commandant turns to face him, contempt evident on his face.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: You think you can stop me, boy?! My mother was of the soldier class! Warrior’s blood flows through my veins!

Reaching to his side, Jukassa unsheathes a vibrosword. Activating it, he brings the blade around to cleave Anakin’s skull in twain. Casually, Anakin brings up his lightsaber, slicing through the metal blade effortlessly as it connects with the shaft of cyan plasma.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (stammering) B-b-but –

Balling his hand into a fist, Anakin punches Jukassa in the face. The man’s glass jaw breaks easily and he collapses to the platform out cold.

Back on the catwalk, JOY-1017 witnesses Jukassa’s defeat. Outraged, she feeds on the dark side of the Force, using it to amplify the ferocity of her attacks on Obi-Wan and Kannen. Kicking Obi-Wan back, she turns on Kannen and locks the shaft of the vibrostaff between the blades of her shotos. With a twist, she wrests the weapon out of the Mandalorian’s hands, sending it over the side to plummet straight into oblivion. Before Kannen can compensate for the loss of her weapon, the Rattataki stabs her through the left kidney.

OBI-WAN: Kannen!

Springing back up, Obi-Wan rushes JOY-1017. Pulling her blade free from Kannen’s side, the Rattataki pushes the Mandalorian woman down as she turns to engage Obi-Wan. As he brings his azure blade arcing downward, she intercepts it with her left-hand shoto. Forcing his saber down, she then brings her right-hand shoto up, slamming the pommel of the weapon into his temple. With a groan, he collapses to the catwalk in a stupor.

Refocusing her attention of Anakin, JOY-1017 leaps over Obi-Wan’s form and comes racing down the catwalk towards the Jedi apprentice. As she reaches him, he spins around, catching her twin white blades with his single cyan one.

JOY-1017: You should have stayed home, little boy, curled up in the covers of your soft, warm bed. War isn’t the place for teeny tiny little younglings such as yourself.

ANAKIN: (cocks an eyebrow) Youngling?

Knocking her blades out of the way, Anakin headbutts JOY-1017, forcing her to reel back.

ANAKIN: I can’t stomach being called a youngling. Kid? Child? Sure. Youngling? (shakes his head) I’m a sapient being, for crying out loud!

Recollecting herself, JOY-1017 sneers.

JOY-1017: What you are is food for the maggots!

Lunging forward, the Rattataki begins making a series of strikes against Anakin. In little time, she begins to drive him back. Locking his blade in hers, she pins him against the power conduit. As she looks upon him, she grins with salacious desire.

JOY-1017: I’m going to kill you, but not right away.

Leaning forward, she licks Anakin across the face.

JOY-1017: (cont’d) First, I’m going to have some fun.

ANAKIN: Fun, huh? I thought your kind couldn’t experience that type of fun.

JOY-1017: We can’t, but we find ways to compensate.

ANAKIN: I see. Put on some synth-leather, strap me into some energy-binders, and power up the lightwhip. Am I anywhere near the bullseye?

JOY-1017: You’re dead centre.

ANAKIN: Well, that’s not exactly my scene, but I’ll try anything once.

At that moment, Obi-Wan moves in up behind the Rattataki. Grabbing her by the shoulder with his left hand, he brings the emitter of his inactive lightsaber up against her throat with his right.

ANAKIN: (cont’d) Just not today.

Sighing with resignation, JOY-1017 lowers her shotos and deactivates them.

OBI-WAN: (takes his hand off her shoulder) Now step back and drop your sabers.

Backing away from Anakin, JOY-1017 steps away from them both. Downcast, she lets her left-hand shoto fall to the platform.

OBI-WAN: Now the other one.

JOY-1017: (grins) I’m not taken so easily.

Laughing, the Rattataki raises her remaining shoto. Before the two Jedi can bring up their sabers, she turns the emitter of her weapon inward and engages it, running herself through on the white plasma blade. Collapsing to her knees, she releases an almost sexual sigh. She then falls face-forward onto the platform.

Crouching over her, Obi-Wan grabs JOY-1017 by the shoulder and turns her over. As he reaches for her throat to take her pulse, the veil encasing her head slips back, exposing a barcode tattooed on her forehead.

OBI-WAN: (looks up at Anakin) She’s dead.

ANAKIN: (looks down at JOY-1017 dispassionately) Clones. They never change.


Leaving the orbit of Ophuchi, the Victor-class Star Destroyer Lancer cruises over to join the other ships of the fleet amassing outside the planet’s gravity well.


Obi-Wan and Anakin make their way down the corridor, their expressions unreadable. Having discarded their battlefield cloaks and armour, they are now dressed in the burgundy uniforms of Imperial Jedi personnel.

As they near the door into the sick bay, it slides open, allowing a Caamasi officer to step out. Once she is past, the two Jedi enter the sick bay.


Obi-Wan and Nik walk through the sick bay, passing by a number of beds containing patients, before they finally come to the bed of Kannen Doom. Stripped of her armour, we can now see that Kannen is a very handsome Human woman with thick, voluminous blond hair. Though visibly weary from her severe injury, she is conscious and alert.

KANNEN DOOM: (weary) Greetings, Jedi.

ANAKIN: (puts his hands on his belt, smiling) Hello yourself. (beat) How are you doing?

KANNEN DOOM: The 'droid says I’ll be in tip-top shape within two weeks. A few more immersions in a bacta tank and I’ll be good as gold. (chuckles) Two more weeks like this. Gods, I’ll go stir crazy.

OBI-WAN: (grins) You never could stand to sit still in any one place for too long.

KANNEN DOOM: No more than you could resist my wiles, Kenobi. (winks)

ANAKIN: I’m sure the weeks’ll just fly by, Kannen. Don’t worry about it.

KANNEN DOOM: (sighs) I guess I’ll have to try, won’t I? (beat) Your leave’s coming up, isn’t it?

OBI-WAN: Yes. Five weeks for both of us.

KANNEN DOOM: Going home, spending time with friends and family, all that jizz?

OBI-WAN: Anakin’ll be returning to Orron III and I’ll be returning to my wife on Coruscant.

KANNEN DOOM: Wife? You got married?

ANAKIN: (elbows Obi-Wan in the arm) Three months ago.

KANNEN DOOM: To that Coruscanti Jedi, Sara, right?

OBI-WAN: Siri, and yes.

KANNEN DOOM: (smiles) My belated congratulations, Kenobi. You should have invited me. I would have loved to have been at the wedding. (grins salaciously) Or the bachelor party.

OBI-WAN: (groans) Don’t remind me.

KANNEN DOOM: (frowns) Huh?

ANAKIN: (smirks) The bachelor party wasn’t exactly what you’d call the last great hurrah for single living.

OBI-WAN: It would’ve been the last great hurrah for living, period.

KANNEN DOOM: I’m intrigued. Tell me more.

OBI-WAN: (waves his hand) No, no more!

ANAKIN: (to Kannen, grinning) I’ll tell you later.

KANNEN DOOM: You’d better not skip over any of the juicy details.

ANAKIN: Don’t worry about that. I’ve got a holographic memory for juicy details; these are no exception.

OBI-WAN: (facepalms) Lord, have mercy ….

KANNEN DOOM: (yawns) It’s been nice catching up, gents, but I think it’s about time we called it a night. The drugs are kicking in and I’m getting sleepy. See you in transit, okay?

OBI-WAN: Alright.

ANAKIN: See you.

With that, Kannen closes her eyes to rest. Turning around, Anakin and Obi-Wan leave her and exit the sick bay.


Stepping out of the sick bay, the Jedi Knights make their way back along the corridor.

OBI-WAN: Well, that certainly was a robust conversation.

ANAKIN: (grins) You’re not sore over me bringing up the party again, are you, Obi-Wan?

OBI-WAN: Yes, yes I am. I wish for the life of me that I could erase the memories of that party from my mind forever. Your bringing it up doesn’t help me to do that.

ANAKIN: From what I recall, you enjoyed the party at first.

OBI-WAN: I did – until the Felacatian had a panic attack, shifted into her animal form, and tried to kill us all.

ANAKIN: (puts up his hands) Hey, I hadn’t ever heard of Felacatians before that night. The catalogue listed Aigria’s measurements, attributes, and one fine portfolio of sexy snapshots, but it didn’t give any background details on her race. Blame them, not me.

OBI-WAN: (sighs) At least the ordeal taught you a valuable lesson.

ANAKIN: Yes, yes, yes. Always do background checks on individuals or groups you plan on hiring in advance of hiring them.

OBI-WAN: Right. Now never bring this matter up again – ever.

ANAKIN: Of course, of course. (smirks) Right after I tell Kannen.

OBI-WAN: (rolls eyes) You’re going to be the death of me.

ANAKIN: Not in this life. (beat) It’s funny, you know, about Kannen. I like her – I wouldn’t change a thing about her – but I still find it strange that she’s a Mandalorian. She’s nothing like the Death Watchmen.

OBI-WAN: Not all Mandalorians are like Vizsla and his group, Anakin – you have to remember that. There is as much diversity among them as there is amongst the Jedi.

ANAKIN: I know. Still, it’s hard to forget what they put us through.

OBI-WAN: Don’t forget it, Anakin. Just remember to keep it in perspective.

Reaching the end of the corridor, the two Jedi make a turn to the left and enter another.


ANAKIN: Nashira would like to see you and Siri again, you know. It’s been two years since the last visit.

OBI-WAN: I know, and she and I’d both like to take a trip to Orron III ….

ANAKIN: It’s the baby, isn’t it?

OBI-WAN: (nods) This is the first successful pregnancy we’ve had, but the doctors say that the danger she could miscarry is still great. Neither of us want to take the chance of a long-distance trip right now.

ANAKIN: I understand. (beat) Maybe we could visit you.

OBI-WAN: I thought the DuQuesnes didn’t have enough money to charter a flight to Coruscant.

ANAKIN: I’m sure I could pull a few strings. (grins) I am a Jedi corporal, after all.

OBI-WAN: An enlisted rank. Jedi or not, I don’t think it carries much weight among the top brass.

ANAKIN: It wouldn’t hurt to try.


All ships lined up in formation, the Imperial fleet makes the jump to hyperspace.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Up in the heavily polluted sky of Nar Shaddaa, countless starships and airspeeders move about like a swarm of angry hornets, passing around and between the countless rusting skyscrapers which reach up from the decaying surface of the moon below.


A dank, filthy place illuminated by dirty red lighting, the Meltdown Café is packed with clientele, most of whom are visibly disreputable types. Sitting at a small round table in the back corner of the establishment, out of place in his surroundings, is a relatively clean-looking ORTOLAN. Visibly nervous, he chain smokes cigarette after cigarette, crushing one out and lighting another before finishing its predecessor. Resting on the floor beside him is a metal briefcase.

As the Ortolan worriedly smokes, a waitress – an incredibly emaciated Bothan with sparse, stringy hair and a lazy eye – approaches his table.

WAITRESS: (takes out a datapad and stylus) What’ll ye be havin’?

ORTOLAN: (looks up at the waitress; stammering) Oh no, nothing, please. I’m not hungry – I’m just waiting for someone.

WAITRESS: (sighs) Look, this is an eatin’ and drinkin’ establishment – ye come in here ta eat or drink, not ta sit ‘n’ stare like a stuffed bird. If all yer gonna consume is that goddamn smoke, then ye can take yer ass out o’ here and free up some space fer payin’ customers.

ORTOLAN: I’ll have a glass of Saurin brandy, then – a small one.

WAITRESS: (takes the order down on her datapad) Yer wish is meh command, meh lord.

The waitress walks off, leaving the Ortolan to himself again. Resuming his chain smoking, he takes a glance at his wrist chronometre.

ORTOLAN: By the goddess’ bulge, how long is he going to be?!

After a few minutes pass, a new figure – a TALL KUBAZ adorned in a dark green overcoat – enters the Meltdown. Taking a gander at the clientele filling the place, he notices the Ortolan sitting in his secluded spot. As he walks up to the Ortolan, he reaches to a mechanical device secured to his right wrist and presses a series of small buttons.

ORTOLAN: Are you Khar J’ak? Are you the one I’ve been waiting for?

KHAR J’AK utters something in Huttese. Judging by the artificial sound of the words, they come from a mechanical device rather than his own vocal cords.

ORTOLAN: I’m sorry, I don’t understand Huttese.

The Kubaz makes an adjustment to the settings of his translator.

KHAR J’AK: Did you bring my money?

ORTOLAN: (looks down at and places a hand on the briefcase beside him) It’s here.

KHAR J’AK: Good, very good.

As J’ak reaches down for the briefcase, the rotund Ortolan slaps his hand away.

ORTOLAN: No, not until you fill your end of the bargain.

KHAR J’AK: (rubs his slapped hand) Outside, then.

ORTOLAN: The alley?

KHAR J’AK: The alley.

Turning, the Kubaz walks away. Picking up his briefcase, the Ortolan follows after him.


The Ortolan stands waiting in the alley alone. Clutching the briefcase to his chest, he taps his foot impatiently.

KHAR J’AK: (O.C.) Here she is.

From the shadows Khar J’ak emerges, leading a small Ortolan female before him. In J’ak’s right hand is a blaster pistol, the barrel of which is pressed against the female Ortolan’s right temple.


KLEU: Papi!

KHAR J’AK: Alright, Imunafas, here’s your daughter. Now give me the case.

IMUNAFAS (ORTOLAN): Let Kleu go first!

KHAR J’AK: Try to run away, either of you, and I’ll burn holes in both your heads – capisce?

Taking the blaster away from Kleu’s head, J’ak pushes her forward. She runs up to her father, who hugs her to him.

KLEU: (ecstatic) Papi!

IMUNAFAS: (crying) Oh, Kleu – Kleu!

KHAR J’AK: I’m touched by the familial love you share, but my money?

IMUNAFAS: (sets the briefcase down on the ground and pushes it toward the Kubaz with his foot) Take it!

The Kubaz catches the briefcase and, holstering his blaster, pops the case open, revealing the contents: several small bars of a shiny red metal. As Khar J’ak looks upon the bars, the two Ortolans back away from him.

KHAR J’AK: Wait a minute. (looks up at the Ortolans) This is only half! Where’s the rest of it?!

IMUNAFAS: What are you talking about?

KUBAZ: (angry) Don’t play games with me! We agreed on one-hundred bars. This is only fifty!

IMUNAFAS: (incredulous) What?!

KUBAZ: (pulls out his blaster) I don’t like being played with, Ortolan. Now you tell me –

Before the Kubaz can finish his sentence, a razor-edged metal disc comes whirling out from the darkness of the alley. Passing through the air at nigh-invisible speeds, it slices through the Kubaz’s right elbow, severing his gun hand from the rest of his body. Releasing an untranslatable Kubaz SCREAM, J’ak collapses to his knees. Gripping his stump with his remaining hand, he desperately tries to staunch the blood flowing from his wound.

KUBAZ: (screaming) Goddamn you! I’ll hack your --!

Before J’ak can complete his curse, a loud, resonating BANG sounds out through the alley, followed immediately by the appearance of a bloody hole in the left side of the Kubaz’s head. Kinetic energy knocking him to the right, he is dead before he hits the pavement.

As Imunafas holds his sobbing daughter close against him, two tall, intimidating figures – a TRANDOSHAN and WOOKIEE – emerge from the shadows. The Wookiee – his fur black with silver streaks – is naked save for a gunbelt worn about his hips and a lanvarok secured to his left wrist. The Trandoshan – sporting midnight green scales and wearing a black-and-white spacer’s suit – carries a slugthrower rifle in his long arms. Walking up to the remains of Khar J’ak, they look down upon the corpse, inspecting their handiwork.

IMUNAFAS: Thank you, I –

TRANDOSHAN: (speaking through a translator) We don’t care about your thanks. (points at the briefcase) Is that the rest of our fee?

IMUNAFAS: (stammering) Y-y-yes. Fifty bars to go with the other fifty I gave you as a down payment.

Bending down, the Trandoshan closes the briefcase and hoists it up.

TRANDOSHAN: Then our business is concluded.

Turning, the Trandoshan leaves and re-enters the shadows, leaving the two Ortolans alone with his Wookiee partner.

The Wookiee, uttering a low grunt, bends down over the slain J’ak. Grabbing hold of the Kubaz’s severed arm, he picks it up, examining the controls for the corresponding translator secured to it. Peeling off the controls and tossing the dead appendage away, the Wookiee bends low over J’ak’s body and strips the translator apparatus from the dead being’s neck.

Releasing a short laugh, the Wookiee then turns and leaves himself, following his Trandoshan partner into the shadows of Nar Shaddaa.


A freighter drops out of hyperspace and makes its way toward the green-and-blue agricultural world.


A passenger liner drops out of hyperspace and makes its way toward the bronze-coloured ecumenopolis.


As the Ithorian pilot and co-pilot maneuver the ship’s controls in the seats before him, Anakin looks out the window to his right at the view of Orron III beyond.


As a sleeping Ithorian snores in the seat beside him, Obi-Wan looks out the window to his left at the view of Coruscant beyond.


The freighter has landed and its few passengers are filing out. Nik is among them.


The liner has landed and its many passengers are filing out. Obi-Wan is among them.


Nik hands a bouquet of flowers out to the Neimoidian teller. Taking the flowers, she brings out her scanner and scans the barcode.

NEIMOIDIAN TELLER: That’ll be thirty-two ingots.

ANAKIN: (hands her the ingots) Keep the change.


Obi-Wan hands a box of chocolates out to the Duros teller. Taking the box, she brings out her scanner and scans the barcode.

DUROS TELLER: That’ll be twenty-three credits.

OBI-WAN: (hands her the credits) Keep the change.


A taxi comes to a stop before the quaint, cozy house of the DuQuesne family. Opening the side door, Anakin steps out.


A taxi comes to a stop before the 662 Gasgar Valley apartment complex. Opening the side door, Obi-Wan steps out.


Anakin stands before the front door, the bouquet of flowers in his left hand. He tugs at the tight collar of his black shirt as the door opens.


Obi-Wan stands in the turbolift, the box of chocolates under his arm. He tugs at the tight collar of his white shirt as the turbolift comes to a stop and the doors open.


As Nik enters the living area he finds two individuals – NEMEC and CORIN DUQUESNE – waiting for him.

ANAKIN: (grins) 'Shira?


Entering the bedroom, Nik finds 'Shira. Seated on the chair to the left of her bed, dressed in pajamas, Nashira stares into the mirror, brushing her pixie-styled strawberry blond hair as bright yellow sunlight falls upon the back of her head from the uncovered window. The joy upon her face is evident.

NASHIRA: (turns to Anakin) Nik!

Rising from the chair, Nashira runs up to her boyfriend. Wrapping her arms around him, she plants her lips on his and begins to kiss him passionately.

His fingers opening, the bouquet of flowers falls from Nik’s grasp, hitting the floor with a light RUSTLE.


As Obi-Wan enters the living area he finds it empty, the lights off.

OBI-WAN: (frowns) Siri?


Entering the bedroom, Obi-Wan finds Siri. Seated on the chair to the right of their bed, dressed in a nightgown, Siri stares out the window, the heavy orange sunlight falling upon her face from between the window blind’s slats. The sorrow upon her face is evident.

SIRI: (turns to Obi-Wan) Ben ….

Rising from the chair, Siri moves up to her husband. Wrapping her arms around him, she plants her face in the hollow of his neck and begins to weep.

His fingers opening, the box of chocolates falls from Obi-Wan’s grasp, hitting the floor with a hollow THUD.


Anakin and Nashira stand together silently in each others’ arms.


Obi-Wan and Siri stand together silently in each others’ arms.


Nemec DuQuesne rides his combine through the vast, sprawling fields of maize, mowing down and harvesting thousands of ripe stalks as he moves onward. Beside him, driving a trailer to collect the freshly mowed-and-ground maize, is Anakin. Due to the advanced age of both vehicles, neither one has functioning air conditioning, leaving Anakin and Nemec to sweat profusely within their cabs under the full midday sun.

Without warning, the engines of Anakin’s trailer suddenly begin to shudder violently. With an unwelcome SPUTTER and COUGH, the engines then blow out and the vehicle completely dies. Unaware or what has just transpired, Nemec keeps the combine rolling forward, leaving ground maize to spill out upon the ground.

ANAKIN: Oh, for the love of –

Opening the cab door, Nik leaps out of the trailer. Running forward, he begins yelling and waving his arms at Nemec to stop.

ANAKIN: (shouting) Nemec! Hey, Nemec! Stop the combine! You’re dumping maize all over the ground! Stop, man, stop!

Finally noticing Anakin’s cries of panic, Nemec hits the breaks. As the large combine grinds to a halt, Nemec powers down the thresher, halting the maizefall.

NEMEC: (opens the cab door and leans out) What in hell happened?!

ANAKIN: Dunno. The engines just died on me!

NEMEC: (sighs and runs a hand through his hair) Figures. (beat) I guess that’s that for the day. We’ll take a look at the engines tomorrow and see if we can’t get the old girl patched up again. (beat) Hop on in.

ANAKIN: (waves his hand dismissively) Nah, you go on ahead. I’d like to walk for a while, catch the breeze.

NEMEC: Suit yourself.

Closing the cab door, Nemec starts forward again, leaving Anakin behind. Anakin, for his part, just puts his hands in his pockets and begins walking at a leisurely pace, taking in the nature surrounding him.

ANAKIN: (singing; in Esperanto) The sights, they’re embryonic. See what you want, I’m not quite sonic. The sounds, they’re quadraphonic. Semi-moronic, not quite sonic ….


As Nik finally arrives at the DuQuesne homestead, he finds Nemec and his wife Corin waiting for him. Corin stands holding a tray with a pitcher and glass of ice tea in her hands, Nemec seated in a sun chair with a glass in his hand beside her. With the two spouses so close together, it’s impossible not to compare and contrast their physical features. Where Nemec is stocky and rather plain-looking, Corin is gracile and strikingly beautiful. The only attribute they have in common is their blond hair.

CORIN: You must be thirsty after all that work and that long walk, Anakin. Have a glass.

ANAKIN: Thanks, Corin.

Taking the glass of ice tea, Anakin downs it in one long, uninterrupted swallow.

CORIN: (eyes widening) My, you must be thirsty. Here, have some more. (takes the pitcher and pours more tea into Anakin’s glass)

NEMEC: Pull up a chair, Nik, take a load off.

ANAKIN: (takes a small sip of his refreshed ice tea) Thanks, but I think I’ll head inside for a shower first.

Nodding to Nashira’s parents, he steps past them for the door. The man and wife exchange glances, cocking their eyebrows in unison.


Stripping off his sweaty clothes, Anakin steps inside the shower. Closing the door, he turns the water on, allowing a stream of fresh, clean water to hit him full-on in the face. Taking a bar of soap, he begins to lather himself up.

As Nik works himself clean, a SHADOWY HUMAN FIGURE can be seen slowly entering the 'fresher. With complete silence, the silhouette cautiously makes its way over to the occupied shower. Completely oblivious, Anakin doesn’t notice as the dark shade approaches the closed shower door, slowly raises an arm to grip it, then suddenly – violently – wrenches it open.

NASHIRA: Surprise!


Surprised, Anakin jumps back, nearly slipping in the shower. 'Shira, for her part, begins laughing hysterically.

ANAKIN: (irate) Dammit, Nashira! I could’ve slipped and broken my damn neck! Don’t do that ever again!

NASHIRA: (pouts sexily) Ohhh, you big bad baby. As if you’d ever slip, Jedi man o’ mine.

ANAKIN: Close the door, will ya? Water’s getting out all over the floor.

NASHIRA: (looks down at the water spraying out onto the refresher floor) Hmmm, I guess I should. (looks back up at Nik, grinning salaciously) Shouldn’t I?

At that, Nashira begins to undress. Taking her time, Nashira unbuttons her powder blue blouse, pulling it open and down to expose her naked shoulders and toned stomach. Once that is done, she unzips her dark brown pants and slowly works them down, exposing her long, shapely legs. With both shirt and pants off, Nashira stands there in her black undergarments, bearing her body to her man. In the years that have passed since we last saw her, Nashira has matured from a pretty young girl into a beautiful young woman with the lithe body of a nascent goddess.

ANAKIN: (eyes Nashira) ….

Grinning broadly, 'Shira steps into the shower. Closing the door behind her, she slips her arms around Anakin’s neck.

NASHIRA: No water getting out on the floor now.

ANAKIN: No, no … of course not now.

Leaning forward, Anakin brings his face close to Nashira’s and reaches behind to rest his hands on the small of her back; pressing his lips against hers, he slides his hands up to her shoulder blades and begins working to remove her bra.

As water cascades down the bodies of the two lovers, Nashira’s satin undergarments drop to the shower floor.


Obi-Wan and Siri sit on opposite ends of the small dining table, facing one another. Though they both poke at the food on their plates, neither are truly hungry.

OBI-WAN: How is it? The recipe called for twenty minutes but I left it in an extra five. I didn’t overcook anything, did I?

SIRI: (sullen) No, no. It’s just fine.

OBI-WAN: Do you need any salt? I could pass you –

SIRI: I don’t need any salt, Ben. It’s fine as it is.

An awkward moment of silence passes between them.

OBI-WAN: Siri, maybe we should talk about … about what happened.

SIRI: No, we don’t. Just eat your food.

OBI-WAN: Love, we can’t just avoid it. We have to –

SIRI: (enraged) I said I don’t want to talk about it! Now shut up and let me eat in peace!

In anger, Siri begins to stab at her plate violently, breaking it in half.

SIRI: (crying) Oh, goddammit!

Bolting up out of her chair, she runs out of the room. Abandoning his plate, Obi-Wan follows after her.


Siri stands out of the balcony, her hands tightly gripped around the railing. Her eyes shut tight and her teeth bared in a grimace, she weeps. Slowly, cautiously, Obi-Wan joins her, placing his hand on her shoulder to comfort her.

SIRI: I lost our baby, Ben! I lost him! Oh God, I lost him!

Wrapping his arms around her, Obi-Wan kisses her on the temple then rests his head on her shoulder.

OBI-WAN: He’s left us, but he’s gone home to the Force, Siri. One day we’ll be with him again.

SIRI: I wanted to see him, Ben, to hold him in my arms at least once. I wanted to let him know I loved him. (beat) That I wanted him.

OBI-WAN: You will, love, you will. We’ll try again.

SIRI: (turns to face him) Try again? For what? For another miscarriage? For another baby born dead?

OBI-WAN: We’ll just have to wait ‘til the treatments are finished before we try again. The next time will work. I promise.

Grabbing hold of him, Siri buries her face in his chest.

SIRI: Oh Lord, Ben, I need to get out of here! I need to get away! Away from this dead city, this dead planet! I need to leave! Please, Ben, take me away from here!

Releasing a tortured moan, Siri continues to sob, clutching her husband to her tightly. Bringing up his arms, Obi-Wan holds her, rubbing her back gently. Looking up, he regards the durasteel buildings stretching out beyond the balcony, their windows aglow with artificial illumination.

OBI-WAN: I know where to go, Siri. I know exactly where to go ….


On a duracrete platform stationed beyond the Ophuchi prison, under a stormy gray sky which matches his disposition, Yajuj Jukassa stands, his arms and legs shackled, surrounded by six armed prison guards. His blue military uniform traded in for a set of unflattering plaid prison coveralls, he no longer carries the same imperious bearing he once had. Before the deposed despot stands the warden, a malicious grin plastered across his skeletal face.

WARDEN: (to Jukassa) There’s a nice, clean breeze blowing, isn’t there, Lord-Commandant? (beat) Breathe it in, Lord-Commandant, get a good whiff of that fresh, crisp air while you can, 'cause where you’re going, you won’t get much of that.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: Only a year ago, warden, you had me over for dinner with your family. I don’t remember you being so flippant with your tongue then.

WARDEN: I had to coddle your over-inflated ego while under your “guiding hand”, Lord-Commandant. Now, with your regime pulled out from under you, I no longer have to kiss your high-bred hindquarters.

From out of the cloudy sky, a large shuttle descends over the landing platform. Coming to rest before the amassed group, the craft’s ramp opens and lowers, allowing FOUR ARMED GUARDS to climb out.

WARDEN: Goodbye, Lord-Commandant. You’ll think of me when you bend over to pick up the soap, won’t you? (to the four new arrivals) Take him away.

Moving forward, the four guards motion with their weapons for Jukassa to step forward toward the shuttle. His expression grim, the ex-dictator complies; with the four guards flanking him, he enters the shuttle.

Once Jukassa is aboard, the ramp draws back up into the shuttle and the shuttle then proceeds to take off, returning to the sky on a course for open space.


Yajuj Jukassa stands facing the four guards, his eyes unblinking. The dark visors of their helmets pulled down over their eyes, the expressions of the guards are impossible to read.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (brings his restrained hands forward) Well, aren’t you going to get me out of these?

GUARD #1: At once, Lord-Commandant. (turns to the guard to his right) Unfasten his restraints.

Nodding once, the guard steps forward to the ex-lord-commandant. Taking a key, the guard unlocks Jukassa’s chains.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (rubs his wrists) That’s much better. (beat) We’re going to Nar Shaddaa, correct?

GUARD #1: Yes, milord. The Imperials will be unable to persecute you in the heart of Hutt space – they have no jurisdiction there.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: (sighs) The lord-commandant of Ophuchi reduced to seeking sanctuary on a polluted cesspool like Nar Shaddaa. It’s criminal.

GUARD #1: It’s only temporary, milord. In time Ophuchi will be yours once again.

YAJUJ JUKASSA: As much as I would like that to be true, I must face reality. My reign on this world is over – completely and finally over. (beat) But I can still have my vengeance – my complete and final vengeance.


Moving out of Ophuchi’s gravity well, the shuttle crewed by Jukassa and his loyalists makes the jump into hyperspace.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



An ARMY stands assembled on the vast, sweeping plains of the planet Tralus. Made up of a mixture of Humans, Selonians, Dralls, and various other species native to the Corellian system, the soldiers all wear the armour of the ancient Army of the Republic.

Almost as if they materialized out from thin air, a large myriad of Krath assault ships appear in the deep lavender sky of Tralus. Several anti-aircraft weapons platforms stationed on the surface open fire as the menacing craft descend upon the world, releasing salvoes of concentrated plasmafire upon the enemy ships. Heavily outnumbering the guns, most of the assault ships manage to evade the devastating plasma blasts.

Touching down, flattening the long stalks of indigo grass beneath their bulk, the Krath take root upon the surface of Tralus like large steel barnacles. As their engines power down, the bay doors of the Krath craft split open. Thousands upon thousands of AUTOMATED KRATH WAR 'DROIDS spill out, hunched over on pairs of digitigrade legs, short war swords in one hand and pulse-wave weapons in the other. The menacing humanoid war machines charge forward, moving with all the preternatural coordination of iron termites. Bringing their weapons to bear, the Republic troops open fire on the automatons closing in upon them. An unstoppable object meeting an immovable force, the two sides crash together.

The resulting battle is a fierce one, with extremely heavy losses to both sides, but the inorganics have a clear advantage over the organics. In the end it finishes as it must; the Republic soldiers fall to the mindless robots.

As wounded lie crying out in agony among the remains of their slain brethren on the blood-soaked battlefield, the Krath assault ships disgorge their second wave of marauders: a countless number of armed-and-armoured KRATH WARRIORS, their faces hard and their eyes cold, large blaster rifles gripped tightly in their iron-strong hands. Falling in upon the surviving Republic soldiers, they falter not at all as they end to the collective misery of their fallen foes.

As the Krath assemble together in columns before their ships, a new ship – an obsidian-black shuttle – descends from the sky like an ominous angel of death. Touching down on the ground before the amassed Krath warriors, the entrance ramp opens and lowers, allowing a single figure to emerge. Clad in armour as black and polished as her ship, a large cloak like a sheet of star-studded night attached about her shoulders, is a LADY OF THE SITH BROTHERHOOD. A smooth, perfectly featureless helmet encases her head, hiding her features from sight.

Reaching up, the Sith Lady takes hold of the featureless black helmet and lifts it away. Tresses of full, wavy black hair cascade down, framing an immaculately beautiful face of flawless porcelain. Her deep violet eyes, like liquid sapphires, sparkle as her full, midnight blue lips part ever so slightly.

Turning away from the Krath, leaving her shuttle, the Sith climbs a low hill. Reaching the top, she looks out to the sprawling landscape before her. Far in the distance, within a shallow gorge, lies the low exterior to an underground bunker.

Turning around, the lady looks upon the Krath warriors. Reaching to her side, she grasps the hilt of a Sith warblade. Pulling the black blade free of its scabbard, she hefts the weapon into the air, pointing it skyward.

SITH LADY: SITH LADY: In the names of Exar Kun, Dark Lord of the Sith; Aleema Keto, Empress of the Tetan Worlds; and Ulic Qel-Droma, Lord Apprentice and Emperor Consort – for the glory of the Sith Empire reborn – attack!

Sharing a single mind, a single heart, a single soul, the Krath warriors release a battle cry and charge. As they pass by the Sith Lady on the way to the bunker, she grins with animalistic delight.


Having pushed on ahead, the Krath war 'droids have already arrived at the bunker and are currently engaged in battle with the Republic soldiers defending it. As it was with their comrades before them, these soldiers prove weak before the murderous automations.


Within the entrance hall, a dozen Republican soldiers stand on guard, blaster rifles trained on the reinforced durasteel door situated at the other end of the corridor away from them.


Inside a small safe room are eleven individuals: Jedi Knight VICI RAMUNEE, her brother VENI, her lover LOGAN HALCYON, their mistress TANISS, and SEVEN YOUNG JEDI CHILDREN.

Vici, twenty-four years old, is a pretty Human woman with a tall, slender build, shoulder-length auburn hair, and green eyes; Veni, eighteen years old, is almost a perfect reflection of his sister; Logan, thirty-one, is a tall, broad-shouldered Human with flaming red hair and an omni-spectral visor pulled down over his eyes; Taniss, perfectly ageless, is a handsome Omwati woman with light blue skin, sparkling indigo eyes, and feathery mauve hair.

While Taniss sits upon a chair, cradling a toddler on her lap, the other three Jedi stand or pace about the room.

VICI: Mistress ….

TANISS: Yes, Vici?

VICI: The Krath forces … I can feel them getting closer. (beat) There’s Sith with them.

TANISS: Yes … I know.


The Krath warriors arrive as the war 'droids finish off the remaining Republicans.


VENI: They’re here!


With a loud, skull-jarring CRASH the reinforced durasteel door is punched in as if it were made of cardboard. Thrown forward with immense velocity, it plows through five soldiers, crushing each and every one of them. As the remaining Republicans reorient themselves, Krath warriors come pouring into the bunker.


Sensing the Krath’s violation of their sanctum, Veni turns toward the thick durasteel door blocking the room off from the rest of the bunker, reaching for the hilt of the lightsaber hanging from his belt with impatience.

VENI: I’m not going to stand around anymore! I’m taking them!

LOGAN: (grabbing Veni by the shoulder) Hold your eopies, kid. Have some patience.

Spinning around, Veni angrily brushes Logan’s hand away.

VENI: Keep your hands off me, Halcyon! You don’t get to push me around, not anymore!

TANISS: (irritated) Enough of this! (to Veni) You’re not a child anymore, Veni – stop acting like one!

Shamed, Veni hangs his head.

VENI: I’m sorry, Mistress. (beat) But the Krath, the children … I don’t know what I’m supposed to do – what we’re supposed to do.

Carefully setting the toddler down on the floor to crawl about with its peers, Taniss stands up and walks over to Veni. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she regards him with the tender gaze of a caring mother.

TANISS: We do what we must as the protectors of these children. To the bitter end, we do as we must.


Having slaughtered the Republic soldiers guarding the hall, the Krath warriors are clearing the bodies out of the way as the Sith Lady steps inside. Accompanying her are THREE SITH ACOLYTES: a Bith male, a Human male, and a Devaronian female.

SITH LADY: Go forth, clear the path for us. But remember – the elder is mine.

Acknowledging her command silently, the acolytes move forward, their rock-hard faces devoid of all expression save that of solid determination.


As the durasteel door slides open, Vici turns to Logan. Meeting his eyes with hers, she reaches out and places her fingers on the side of his face.

VICI: So this is it, huh?

LOGAN: This is it.

VICI: But there’s so much I wanted to say, Logan, so much to do –

LOGAN: (grins) Please, save me the cliched claptrap. (reaches up and tenderly takes her hand in his) All we needed to say and do we’ve done.

Pulling Vici close to him, Logan locks his lips with hers, sealing their love with their last passionate kiss.

As Logan and Vici end their embrace, they both turn to regard Mistress Taniss. Then, turning away from her, they and Veni step out of the room to meet their fate.

Once the three Jedi are gone, the heavy metal door slides back into place and locks with a heavy CLANG.


As the three Sith acolytes enter the antechamber leading into the safe room, they find the three Jedi Knights waiting for them. As one, the Sith draw their lightsabers and engage them; a blade of frigid blue extends from the Human’s hilt, a blade of putrid green from the Bith’s, and a blade of nauseating purple from the Devaronian’s. As the Sith stand there, their three blades pulsating, the Jedi draw their own weapons; a blade of vibrant yellow extends from Veni’s hilt, a blade of radiant orange from Logan’s, and a blade of intense red from Vici’s.

Drawing back their plasma blades, the combatants engage in a six-way duel.


Mistress Taniss stands facing the door, children surrounding her, as tears begin to run down her cheeks.


The Sith Lady steps into the antechamber, looking down upon the bodies strewn about the floor. The Jedi and Sith, evenly matched, have slain each other down to the last man.

Stepping past the bodies, the darkly beautiful woman walks up to the heavy door leading into the safe room beyond. Bringing up her arms, she reaches out through the Force and, finding the door, seizes it in a vice-like grip, squeezes, and begins to pull.

With a hideous SQUEAL of rending metal, the tremendously heavy, durable safe room door is slowly pulled from its hinges. Once the door is cleared from its frame, the lady telekinetically moves it off to the side, discarding it casually as if it were nothing more than a paper cup.

Standing there, hands on her hips, is the Jedi mistress Taniss. Her face unreadable, the Sith reaches to the scabbard at her side and draws her warblade, bringing the broadsword of black metal to bear.

SITH LADY: Greetings, Mistress Taniss.

TANISS: You know my name.

SITH LADY: Of course. Honour demands no less of me. (beat) I’ve come for the children, Mistress Taniss.

TANISS: You know I can’t allow you to take them.

SITH LADY: Have sense, Mistress. The Republic troops have fallen and Tralus has been taken – you have lost.

TANISS: While life flows through me, triumph remains within reach. I haven’t lost yet.

SITH LADY: It doesn’t have to be this way. There is a place for all within the Brotherhood. Why don’t you join us and help create a future where these children can grow up in peace and security, safe from the manipulations and predations of corrupt bureaucrats and underworlders?

TANISS: The future the Sith are crafting is a dark, unholy one. I’ll have no part in it.

SITH LADY: (angry) Open your eyes, Taniss! The Republic and Jedi have had their day! It is the dawn of a new age – the Sith Golden Age!

TANISS: Such a dawn I have no desire to wake to.

SITH LADY: Very well, Mistress Taniss, cling to your outmoded stubbornness. The path to the morrow will be clearer with you out of the way.

Lunging forward, the black armoured Sith swings her blade. Taking a step back, Taniss unclips her lightsaber, engages the scintillating silver blade, and brings it down on an intercept course. With an almost liquid SIZZLE, the blade of cohesive plasma makes contact with the blade of alchemically-forged metal, neither cutting through the other. Pulling back, the two combatants part blades.

Moving with fluid grace, the Sith and Jedi continue their duel. They feint, parry, and riposte over-and-over again, neither gaining an upper hand over the other.

SITH LADY: It’s obvious this contest cannot be decided by our skills with the blade.

The lady lowers her warblade, resheathing it.

SITH LADY: (cont’d) But by our knowledge of the Force.

Lowering her lightsaber, Tannis disengages it and tosses the hilt to the floor.

Grinning, the Sith brings forth her hands. As she weaves them about one another, a ball of negative energy begins to coalesce between them. Once the sphere of inverted light has reached optimal size, the lady throws out her hands, releasing it at Taniss. Bringing up her own hands, Taniss erects a barrier of blazing silver light. As the sphere collides with the barrier, the negative energy shatters into nothingness.

TANNIS: (drops the barrier) You’re going to have to do far better than that.

Sneering, the Sith Lady brings her arms down low to her sides. Curling her fingers into gnarled talons, she begins to summon more negative energy into them. Throwing out her hands, she unleashes beams of inverted light upon Taniss. Throwing up a telekinetic shield with her right hand, the mistress redirects the black energy away from her into a wall.

SITH LADY: Do you plan on merely warding away my blows, Jedi?! Haven’t you the fire to deliver an attack of your own?!

Without responding, the Jedi mistress throws up her left hand. A beam of silver energy courses outward, catching the Sith square in the chest and hurtling her back onto the floor.

TANNIS: I can dish it out as well as I can take it, darksider.

Grinning with malevolent pleasure, the Sith Lady recollects herself. Stepping forward, she throws out her hands once again, casting more blasts of negative energy. Tannis reciprocates with silver energy blasts.


Some time has passed and the Krath soldiers stand outside the bunker, awaiting the return of their mistress, when a shape stirs from within the dark entrance.

The Sith Lady – her cloak all but gone, her gorgeous hair burned down to a charred fuzz, her face marred with second degree burns – steps outside. Cradled against her breastplate, seemingly oblivious to the events taking place around it, is the very same toddler Tannis was attending to earlier.

SITH LADY: (hoists the child up into the air) Behold the child! Behold the future of the Sith Empire!

Awareness of their victory finally sinking in, the Krath warriors throw up their arms, cheering their Sith mistress as she displays the spoils of war in her arms.


Anakin sits at his desk, watching the holovid of the Sith Lady holding the child before her Krath warriors, as a light RAP-RAP-RAP is heard at the door.

ANAKIN: (pauses the holovid) It’s open.

The door opens and Corin leans inside. She immediately notices the monochrome hologram of the menacing Sith woman frozen in place on his desk.

CORIN: What are you watching?

ANAKIN: Records from the Fourth Battle of Tralus during the Great Sith War. I’m trying to catch up on my studies. (beat) You wanted something?

CORIN: You’ve got a caller on the comm – Obi-Wan Kenobi.

ANAKIN: I’ll be right there.

Rising from his chair, Nik follows Corin out the door.


Entering the small, windowless room, Anakin walks over to the controls of a medium-sized comm unit installed in the >wall. Pressing a blue button, Obi-Wan’s face immediately appears on the display.

ANAKIN: (sits down in a chair) Hey, Obi. What’s up?

OBI-WAN: Hello, Nik. I’m not disturbing you, am I?

ANAKIN: No, not really. I was just going over my history records. (beat) What’s the news? Our leave hasn’t been cancelled, has it?

OBI-WAN: No, nothing of the sort. (beat) Anakin ….

ANAKIN: (frowns) Something’s happened to Siri.

OBI-WAN: (sighs) Siri lost the child. It happened a few days before I got back.

ANAKIN: God, Obi, I’m so sorry.

OBI-WAN: Siri’s going through a crisis right now and we both feel it’d be best to get off Coruscant for the time being and see some friendly faces. Is it alright if we came to Orron III and stayed with you awhile?

ANAKIN: I’ll have to ask Corin and Nemec, but I’m sure they’ll understand.

OBI-WAN: Thank you, Anakin.

ANAKIN: I’ll get back to you as soon as I get the word.

With that, the communication ends. Rising from the chair, Nik turns to leave and finds Nemec standing in the open door.

NEMEC: I heard everything, Nik. (beat) Tell your friends they’re welcome to come right on over.

Thanking Nemec with a slight nod and smile, Nik returns to the comm unit.


Somewhere in the depths of the Arkanis sector sits the crystalline planet Townowi. In orbit above Townowi is a long metal cylinder with a clawed torus built around its diametre. This is Akkad 14, a space station built by the Separatists during the Second Clone War. While it has long since been appropriated by the Empire, it still serves its purpose as a way station between the Geonosis system and the greater Galaxy.


Inside her quarters, buried within the covers of her bed, is COMMANDER SHERIDAN JEFFREYS. A lean, lovely blonde nearing middle age, Jeffreys is locked fast in the deepest, most peaceful sleep.

At that moment, just as Townowi’s blue sun rises out beyond the room’s large transparisteel viewport, the chronometre off to the right side of the commander’s bed begins to RING a fierce wakeup call. Groaning, she rolls over in bed, burying her head inside her pillows in a desperate attempt to block out the noise.

CMDR. JEFFREYS: Shut up, shut up, shut up….

When the chronometre refuses to comply, Jeffreys resorts to a final desperate act. Reaching under her mattress, she pulls out a small blaster. Turning over, she levels the weapon at the chrono, takes careful aim, then pulls the trigger. A blue stun bolt flares out, catching the chronometre and frying its systems, silencing it now and forever.

Sighing, Jeffreys lowers the blaster. Getting up out of bed, she then meanders over to her desk. Opening a drawer, she pulls out a recorder wand. Raising it to her lips, she turns it on.

CMDR. JEFFREYS: Memo to self: Order a new chronometre at the next earliest convenience.

Deactivating the wand, she replaces it back inside the desk.


The door leading into Jeffreys’ quarters slides open, allowing the commander to step out into the corridor. Now showered and clad in her gray Imperial uniform, she is the very picture of no-nonsense efficiency.

Turning on her heel to her right, she begins making her way along the corridor. At that moment the large door at the end of the corridor behind her left slides open, allowing a PORTLY BARABEL to step inside.

PORTLY BARABEL: (grins) Cmdr. Jeffreys!

Stopping in mid-stride, Jeffreys turns to regard the Barabel. Seeing his unwelcome grin, she sighs deeply.

CMDR. JEFFREYS: Mr. Kurasij, without the proper clearance, Red Deck is off-limits to non-military personnel.

KURASIJ (PORTLY BARABEL): Yes, this is known to me. What of it?

CMDR. JEFFREYS: Get off Red Deck, Mr. Kurasij.

KURASIJ: You wound me deeply, Commander. Do you regard me so poorly that you’d immediately assume I’d use improper channels to procure access to the command section?

CMDR. JEFFREYS: (sighs) I haven’t the time for your games, Kurasij. Get your ass off Red Deck before I call Gardo in to haul it off to the brig!

KURASIJ: (takes a step forward) Surely, Commander –

Reaching to her side, Jeffreys pulls out her comlink. Raising it to her lips, she activates it.


GARDO: (O.S.) Commander?

KURASIJ: (raises his hands up as he takes a step back) Nevermind, Commander. I can see you are a busy woman. Perhaps we can establish a dialogue at a later date, yes?

Wasting not a single split-second, the Barabel departs Red Deck.

CMDR. JEFFREYS: (into the comlink) Nevermind, Gardo. False alarm.

Deactivating the comlink, the Commander resumes her stride.


The doors leading into the command centre slide open and Cmdr. Jeffreys steps inside. Within the circular room, several MEN, WOMEN, AND BEINGS OF INDETERMINATE GENDER man their stations, each monitoring the interstellar space beyond them for incoming ships or communications. Installed in the wall before them all is a large viewport looking out into the star-studded darkness of the Townowi system.

OFFICER #1: Good morning, Commander.

Walking over to her station, Jeffreys takes a seat.

CMDR. JEFFREYS: Morning? There is no morning in space, Kirova.

KIROVA (OFFICER #1): Of course not, Commander.



CMDR. JEFFREYS: Be a good boy and fetch me a mug of caf. I’ll never be able to think straight if I don’t get some caffeine into my system ASAP.

KIROVA: Right away, ma’am.

Leaving his station, Kirova hurries to grab the commander a cup of caf.


Out in the blackness of space, past Townowi and the space station, a massive starcraft emerges from the depths of hyperspace. Unseen, the ship moves toward Akkad 14. Coming upon the station, the craft casts a vast, overwhelming shadow over the much smaller habitat.


OFFICER #2: Commander, a craft’s just emerged right on top of us from hyperspace! It’s a --!


A red superlaser lances out from the unseen vessel. Striking Akkad 14 dead centre, the beam vaporizes the station in an instant.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



With the rising of a new sun on this side of Orron III, we watch the events of Anakin’s morning unfold from beginning to end.

Following a rude awakening when Nashira, shrieking like a harpy, bursts into his room, jumps on top of his bed, and begins beating him over the head with one of his pillows, Anakin promptly hurries to get ready for the day and joins the rest of the DuQuesne family at the breakfast table. Following a hearty breakfast of green eggs and ham, he then joins them on their farm chores. While 'Shira and Nemec team up to work with the combine and trailer to finish the season’s harvest, Nik helps Corin take inventory and work on repairing broken and malfunctioning equipment.


With the passing of morning into afternoon, Anakin’s chores have come to an end for the day. Tonight is the night Obi-Wan and Siri are to arrive on Orron III after a long voyage from Coruscant, and Nik has to leave to pick them up at the spaceport.

Having promptly showered and dressed in clean, fresh clothes, Anakin guides the DuQuesne family landspeeder out of the garage. As he uses a remote control to close the garage door, Nashira and her parents appear from out of the house, walking all the way around to the right side of the speeder to see him off. 'Shira, for some reason, has a satchel slung across her left shoulder.

ANAKIN: Well, I’m off, guys.

Unslinging her satchel, Nashira dumps it in the back seat of the speeder.

ANAKIN: What’s in there?

NASHIRA: Supplies.

ANAKIN: I already have everything I need.

NASHIRA: Yeah, well, you know me – I hate sharing.

ANAKIN: (frowns) Huh?

CORIN: She’s going with you.

ANAKIN: But it’s a six-hour trip!

NASHIRA: (narrows her eyes) What are you insinuating?

ANAKIN: (stammering) N-n-nothing, 'Shira, but c’mon – it’s six hours!

NASHIRA: (jumps in the passenger seat) Just enough time to get back in time for a late supper.

Reaching around to the back seat, Nashira takes hold of the satchel and unzips it. Reaching inside, she pulls out a small, round, iridescent disc. Hunkering back down into the passenger seat, she holds the disc up before Nik’s eyes.

NASHIRA: (cont’d) Besides, I’ve brought some tunes along.

NEMEC: Nashira rarely gets out except for school.

CORIN: It’s good for her to get off this farm once in awhile, stretch out, take some of that crisp, open air in.

ANAKIN: I … I … (resigned) I guess.

Grinning broadly, Nashira punches Anakin in the arm – hard. Wincing in pain, Nik immediately begins rubbing the tenderized spot. He then kicks the speeder into overdrive, burning repulsorlift as he peels out of the driveway.

Grinning grins as broad as their daughter’s, Nemec and Corin wave after the pair as they move off into the distance.


Emerging out onto the open highway, 'Shira slides her disc into the landspeeder’s player. Almost automatically, loud instrumental theremin music begins to play over the speakers. As the speeder makes its way along the long highway, the intense music reverberates across the empty grasslands surrounding the duracrete road, seeming to transform the entire landscape into one vast echo chamber.

As the music plays, hours seem to pass by in mere minutes. As the sun moves across the sky and lowers toward the horizon, Nik and 'Shira pass by another small farm, a herd of grazing jackalopes, and eventually an ancient, burned-out ruin of a house with a sinister old woman standing out in its long-overgrown front yard. Nashira spends the time alternating between silently listening to music, chatting with Nik, and taking snapshots of interesting landmarks with a camera while he keeps his eyes out on the open road.


After almost three hours, the music has come to an end and the sun has now begun to set.

As the spaceport appears as a spot on the horizon in the far distance, the radiance of the departing sun bathes Nashira’s face in its warm light. Seemingly transfixed by the Munsell red glow, a wistful expression passes over her features.



NASHIRA: You never did say why Siri and Obi chose to visit us now, after all this time.

ANAKIN: Can’t say I know myself, exactly. I guess they just felt enough time had passed since they’d seen you last, that now’d be a good time to catch up.

NASHIRA: Anakin ….


NASHIRA: They’re really here because of the baby, aren’t they? (beat) She lost it. She lost her baby.

Anakin doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. Turning to face him, Nashira regards him, her blue eyes almost glowing with intensity.

NASHIRA: Have you … have you ever thought about us, Nik? About our future, if we stay together?

ANAKIN: Sure – of course I have.

NASHIRA: Have you … have you thought about us having children, and I mean really thought about it?

ANAKIN: Well, I guess I … I mean …. (sighs) No, I guess I haven’t – not really. (beat) I figured it’d be something to think about later, when we’re both older.

NASHIRA: Do you think we could – if we choose to – do you think we could have children?

ANAKIN: (uncomfortable) Nashira, I – I don’t – neither of us have been tested ….

'Shira begins to say something more, but seeing how uncomfortable Anakin is with the conversation, she cuts herself off. Turning away from him, she refocuses her gaze on the setting sun, allowing herself to be immersed spiritually and well as physically in its deep crimson radiance.


Having disembarked from their ship, Obi-Wan and Siri have made their way inside the spaceport terminal, joining the other new arrivals in a line as they proceed through a security checkpoint. Standing at guard at the checkpoint, clad in their brown uniforms and riot armour, are several ESPOS, officers of the Corporate Sector Authority’s Security Police. While they make no overt motions of hostility toward the offworlders, they radiate pure, undiluted menace, their stun batons deliberately held out in the open as a warning to any and all not to cross them.

As Siri and Obi-Wan’s turn comes to cross the checkpoint, an Espo with a weapon detector walks up to them and runs the detector over the length of their bodies. Almost immediately, the detector’s warning light begins to flash.

ESPO #1: (to the other Espos) I’m getting readings!

Five other Espos immediately step forward, activating their stun batons. Taking a collective step back, Siri and Obi-Wan raise their hands, showing that they are willing to comply with the Espos. Approaching them, one of the Espos begins frisking them. It takes only a moment for him to uncover and procure their lightsabers.

ESPO #2: What are these?

SIRI: Lightsabers.

ESPO #1: Jedi?


ESPO #1: Do you have authorization to carry these weapons inside the Corporate Sector?

Slowly and silently, Obi-Wan and Siri reach inside their coats and pull out their wallets. Opening them up, they each withdraw a pair of identical cards. Stepping up to them, a third Espo takes their cards. Pulling out a card reader, he runs each of the cards through in turn. When the green LED lights up for both, he nods to Espo #1.

ESPO #1 (to Espo #2) Give them back their weapons.

Espo #2 hands the lightsabers back to the Jedi. Silently, they clip the weapons back on their belts, their eyes focused on Espo #1.

EPSO #1: (grins) Enjoy your stay on Orron III.

Passing through the checkpoint, Obi-Wan and Siri make their way towards the exit that’ll take them out of the terminal. Once they are out of earshot of the Espos, they turn to regard one another.

OBI-WAN: It’s nice to see that Espo security is still as tight as ever.

Siri responds with a silent shrug.


As Obi-Wan and Siri step out of the terminal into the open air of Orron III, they spot Anakin and Nashira already there just beyond the front doors, waiting for them.

As the two parties converge, Siri breaks away from Obi-Wan and walks up to Nashira. As the two women embrace, Siri – overcome with emotion – smiles and weeps in unison.


Another three hours pass, and Anakin and Nashira have returned home with Obi-Wan and Siri. They have all joined Nemec and Corin at the dinner table, where they are currently engaged in light conversation over a supper of roast beast and hewhash.

NEMEC: So, Obi-Wan, how was the trip?

OBI-WAN: Oh, it was the typical twelve-day flight – long, tedious, dreadfully boring, but blissfully uneventful.

SIRI: They’ve added a third stop-over on the trip since we were out here last.

CORIN: Where?

SIRI: In an asteroid belt somewhere in the Abdju system, on one of the larger asteroids. (to Obi-Wan) You recall the name of the station?

OBI-WAN: Asteroid M.

SIRI: I think it was Asteroid Mern.

OBI-WAN: I’m sure it was “M”.

SIRI: (to Corin) Anyway, it was just a small station, capable of holding a half dozen ships at a time.

OBI-WAN: And we just happened to get stuck there when a particularly nasty solar storm started blazing right through the hyperroute out of the system. We were laid over for five hours.

ANAKIN: You managed to get here on time.

OBI-WAN: You can thank Otto for that.


SIRI: The hot-shot pilot of the ship that took us the rest of the way here.

OBI-WAN: He knew of a shortcut through hyperspace that’d shave five hours off the remainder of our flight.

SIRI: Oh, it was a shortcut all right – a shortcut directly through the stratosphere of a gas giant.

Two minutes pass.

CORIN: Siri, I haven’t complimented you on your hair yet, have I?

SIRI: I don’t think so, no.

CORIN: Well, it’s just a gorgeous hairstyle. It looks absolutely stunning on you.

SIRI: (smiles) Thank you.

CORIN: Does it have a name? The style, I mean.

SIRI: It’s called a vaddul chignon.

CORIN: Strange name – curious.

SIRI: It’s named after its creator, Vaddul Aiisio Huiun.

CORIN: Sounds like a Hutt name.

SIRI: He is a Hutt.

Four minutes pass.

NEMEC: (to Obi-Wan) How about those PDRs, huh? Great team, great team. You follow the ecometrics, right?

OBI-WAN: Well, I ….

Six minutes pass. By this time, everyone has about finished their dinner.

SIRI: (cont’d) … we could help you with the harvest. It’s no trouble, really.

NEMEC: But that’s just it – we finished work today. The harvest’s over.

CORIN: We start planting again in two weeks. We have lots of free time on our hands ‘til then.

NASHIRA: Hey, I’ve got an idea!

Everyone at the table regards the young lady with open ears.

NASHIRA: (cont’d) That old amusement park in town’s having its grand reopening in two days. We can take the trip out there any time before the new season starts and have a day of fun for ourselves!

CORIN: You mean Zorqo’s Zoo of Zaniness?


CORIN: (frowns) I don’t know ….

NEMEC: Isn’t the new owner some shady character who was run outta the Tion Hegemony?

NASHIRA: (waves her hand dismissively) That’s just idle gossip without any basis in objective fact.

A moment of silence passes between them all.

NEMEC: In that case ….

CORIN: I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to check the old place out ….

NASHIRA: (grins) Excellent! (to Siri and Obi-Wan) Obi, Siri – you’re about to have the time of your lives!


Within the living area of Korbee Tower’s penthouse suite, we find MAHTTOH THE WOOKIEE decked out asleep upon a large sofa. Judging by the litter strewn about the room – along with the two naked female wookoids asleep in Mahttoh’s arms – a rather rowdy party was hosted here the night before.


Just like with the living area, this bedroom, too, is a mess, with a pair of female trandoids curled up under the covers with LLOMON THE TRANDOSHAN.

As he wakes from his booze-induced slumber, Llomon sits up with a reptilian YAWN. Caring not one bit if he disturbs his two companions, the Trandoshan kicks the covers off himself and rises out of bed.


Passing through the living area and by the sleeping simians, Llomon steps into the kitchen. Crossing over to the refrigeration unit, he opens it, reaches inside, and pulls out a single mauve egg the size of a football. Smacking his lizard lips hungrily, he closes the refrigerator door then takes a seat at the small kitchen table. Placing the egg in a large egg cup already waiting for him on the table, Llomon takes his pinky claw and punches a hole through the shell of the egg. Then, with a great big Trandoshan smile, he inserts a straw through the hole and begins to suck the glop up with intense gusto.


Awake now themselves, Llomon’s two reptilian lady friends saunter into the living area wearily, nursing strong hangovers. As they pass within range of Mahttoh and his girls, they draw back their muzzles with disgust as the strong odour of the mammalians’ lingering love musk washes over them.

At that very moment, a comm unit on the wall begins to wail with an incoming transmission.

Hearing the comm, Llomon immediately leaves his half-finished egg and re-enters the living area. Uttering curses in Dosh, he strides up to the sleeping wookoids and violently shakes them awake. As they come up from their slumber, the Trandoshan then turns to his trandoid companions, walks up to them, then rudely pulls them to him. Finally, as the comm continues to wail, he herds all four women to the front door, opens it, then kicks them out, slamming the door shut as they start hurling curses back at him.

Racing over to the unit, Llomon activates an illegally owned-and-installed jammer to prevent any unwelcome eavesdroppers from listening in on the conversation, then picks up the line. Almost immediately, the Human face of one of Yajuj Jukassa’s loyalist guards appears on-screen.

GUARD #2: I trust this is Llomon the Trandoshan I am speaking to?

Llomon responds in the affirmative but the Human clearly fails to understand Dosh. Realizing for the first time that he doesn’t have his translator on him, the Trandoshan holds his finger up in a gesture for the Human to wait then leaves to find his translator.

Moments later Llomon returns, the translator apparati affixed to his neck and wrist. Making an adjustment, he sets the device to transmit in Basic.

LLOMON: (in Basic) I am Llomon.

GUARD #2: I trust this is a secure line?

LLOMON: (annoyed) Do you think me incompetent? Of course it’s secure. Now what is it you want?

GUARD #2: After arriving on Nar Shaddaa several weeks ago, my employer set me to the task of finding a bounty hunter or hunters who would be adequate for an endeavour which he has determined to be of the utmost importance. After making a series of inquiries, we have come to the conclusion that you along with your partner are the most qualified candidates.

LLOMON: Has anyone ever told you you use too many words to say so little?

GUARD #2: (sighs) My employer has a job for you and Mahttoh.

LLOMON: I gathered that. What is it?

GUARD #2: He wishes me to tell you no more. Agree to meet with him in person and he will reveal the details to you himself.

LLOMON: Very well. Where and when would he like to meet?

GUARD #2: In his room at Chance Castle, at 6100 tonight.

LLOMON: Room number?

GUARD #2: You’ll find me waiting at the main entrance. I’ll give you the number then.

LLOMON: So be it.

The guard nods once. The comm display then goes dark.

Deactivating his translator, Llomon steps away from the comm unit and walks on over to the sofa, where Mahttoh – in spite of all the commotion caused by the comm and the ladies’ departure – is still asleep. Placing a clawed foot on the Wookiee’s shoulder, the Trandoshan pushes the Wookiee off the sofa. Hitting the floor with a THUD, Mahttoh wakes with a Wookiee wail.

MAHTTOH: (in Shyriiwook, subtitled) Hey, what the hell!? (looks about the room) Where are Suroow and Ghueew?

LLOMON: (in Dosh, subtitled) A potential client just called. He wants to meet with us tonight.

MAHTTOH: (subtitled) What time?

LLOMON: (subtitled) 6100 at Chance Castle. So get up, go to the 'fresher, and have a shower. He won’t hire us if you come stinking of Wookiee love musk.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



The DuQuesnes, Kenobis, and the Skywalker kid enter the grounds of Zorqo’s Zoo of Zaniness with thousands of other visitors. A medium-sized amusement park, a fair amount of various different attractions and rides can be seen over the throngs of people.

NEMEC: (sighs) Well, we’re here. Now what?

CORIN: We could visit the Wormhole of Love.

NEMEC: Wormhole of Love?

CORIN: Like we did when we were teenagers. (beat) Stars, how long ago was that? Seventy years?

NEMEC: Seventy-three.

CORIN: Remember our first ride through the Wormhole –

NEMEC: Fifth ride, Corin, fifth.

CORIN: (cont’d) First, fifth – whichever, it doesn’t matter. (beat) It was the most romantic night of our lives. It was the night we truly became one –

NASHIRA: (covers her ears with her hands) I don’t need to be hearing this!

CORIN: (cont’d) – the night we realized we’d be together always.

NEMEC: (smiles) 'Til death do we part.

CORIN: (grins) Yes, exactly.

NEMEC: (sighs) That was a good night, dear, but I’m too old for cliched rides like that now. (claps Anakin on the back) The Wormhole of Love’s perfect for Nashira and her snot-nosed punk of a boyfriend, though.

ANAKIN: (frowns) Who’s snot-nosed?

Nemec pulls Nik and 'Shira to him then lightly pushes them out, away from the rest of the group.

NEMEC: Go on, Nik, take Nashira and go ride through the Wormhole. There’s a good chance you’ll never get the opportunity again.

Deciding to do as the man says, Anakin and Nashira join hands and head off in search of the Wormhole of Love. In short order, they’re both lost from sight within the crowd.

OBI-WAN: So what should the rest of we four do? (looks about the park) I’m kind of lost here, so I can’t really offer any suggestions.

NEMEC: (places a hand on Obi-Wan’s shoulder) I’m hungry. Are you?

OBI-WAN: Well, I suppose –

NEMEC: I’ll treat you to a sausage or a burger – whatever levitates your skiff. We’ll leave the girls to find their own entertainment.

OBI-WAN: I wouldn’t want to just ditch Siri and Corin like that ….

SIRI: (smiles wryly) I wouldn’t mind.

CORIN: You boys run off, enjoy yourselves. That’s what we’re all here for, after all, isn’t it?

NEMEC: (grins) See? They can’t wait to be rid of our ugly faces. So let’s be off!

At that, the two men depart, Nemec’s hand placed firmly on Obi-Wan’s back to lead him along. Obi-Wan turns to look back at Siri, staring daggers her way. She merely gives him a parting wave and a smile in response.


Some minutes have passed and Anakin and Nashira are utterly lost within the park.

ANAKIN: So where are we going?

NASHIRA: Why ask me? I haven’t a clue.

ANAKIN: Great, so where ever this Wormhole is, we’ll never find it.

NASHIRA: (frowns) Don’t be a ship in the mud. We’ll just ask someone for directions.

The two then spend the next few minutes asking others for directions to the Wormhole of Love. No one, however, seems to know where it is.

ANAKIN: Well, that was a wild goose chase.

Nashira then notices a SKRILLING CLOWN standing propped up against a sign post with a DIMINUTIVE NEAR-HUMAN NELWYN sitting on the ground beside him. Both are currently smoking cigarettes.

NASHIRA: They work here. They’re bound to know where the Wormhole is.

Pulling Nik along behind her, Nashira approaches the two odd figures.

NASHIRA: (smiles) Hello.

The Skrilling clown – RUSTYK – takes a drag on his cigarette, takes one glance down at 'Shira, then takes his gaze back off her, exhaling a big cloud of purple smoke without the slightest change coming to his surly face.

RUSTYK: Hey, kid.

NASHIRA: We’re looking for the Wormhole of Love, but we’re kinda lost.

RUSTYK: Lost, eh? (takes a puff on his cigarette) Shoulda bought a map at the front entrance, kid.

ANAKIN: (irate) Do you know where the damn ride is or not?

Rustyk centres his gaze upon Anakin for the first time.

RUSTYK: You got pluck, kid.

Taking another deep drag on his cigarette, Rustyk blows the thick, purple smoke in Anakin’s face. The young man begins coughing violently as the cloying miasma is drawn into his lungs.

RUSTYK: (cont’d) I hate pluck.

Starting to lose her own temper, 'Shira takes an angry step forward to the unappealing clown.

NASHIRA: Do you know where the Wormhole of Love is or don’t you?

Finishing his cigarette, Rustyk tosses the butt away then looks down upon his companion.

RUSTYK: You know where the Wormhole of Love’s at, Mr. Eenyt?

Without a single word, MR. EENYT points upward. Following his finger, Nashira finds a sign with “WORMHOLE OF LOVE” stencilled in big white letters on the signpost pointing the way to the ride.

RUSTYK: Have the time of your life, kid.


Having followed the sign, Nashira and Nik have reached their destination. Instead of finding the entrance to the Wormhole of Love, however, they instead find a ride labelled “ROUTE 999”, the entrance into it consisting of a large, monstrous head with an open mouth leading deep into a dark abyss. The ride’s barker – a TALL, GAUNT PAU’AN dressed in a black top hat and tailcoat – directs visitors over to the ride with dramatic flourish.

BARKER: Do you pitiful, vulnerable, ephemeral souls have the heart, the spirit, the gumption, the bravado to brave the sorrows and torments of the Nine Corellian Hells and emerge unscathed? If so, take your chances on Route 999!

'Shira and Nik approach the barker.

BARKER: (removes his hat and takes a bow before them) Greetings, my fine young kidbits. My name is Karyon Adder and I’ll be your usher into the harrows of Hells! Do you wish to endanger, to sacrifice, your immortal souls travelling down Route 999?

NASHIRA: Isn’t this supposed to be the Wormhole of Love?

KARYON ADDER (BARKER): It was – forty-five years ago. Kids today don’t want rides into dimensions of mushy gushy romance, though – they want descents into chaos universes+ of wailing and gnashing of teeth – so it was deconverted into the cannon into carnality which now towers before you!

ANAKIN: (points behind him with his thumb) But the sign back there said this was the way to the Wormhole.

KARYON ADDER: The sign was meant to be replaced before reopening, but someone obviously forgot to get to it. A temporary oversight, I’m sure. (beat) Now, again, must I inquire? Do you wish to ride Route 999?

'Shira and Anakin exchange glances.

NASHIRA: Since we’re here ….

Anakin merely shrugs, then they take a collective step forward. As they pass by Karyon, though, the Pau’an reaches behind him, pulls a cane hidden within the folds of his tailcoat out, then gripping the diamond head, unsheathes a thin sword hidden with the shaft. Taking a swing downward, he blocks their advance.

KARYON ADDER: (frowns) Tickets please.

Dumbstruck by the eccentric barker, Nashira and Anakin give the Pau’an a pair of tickets. His frown instantly transforming into a wide grin, he accepts the tickets.

KARYON ADDER: (removes and resheathes his sword) Carry on, kidbits, carry on!

Karyon Adder begins to laugh maniacally as the two lovers disappear into the open maw of Route 999.


Sitting within a repulsorcart, Anakin and Nashira travel along Route 999.

Surrounding them is a holographic panorama of the nine hells from Corellian myth. All about the young couple can be seen a plethora of profane images. In one corner, a squat imp smacks down a floating torso with no legs or head; in another, a young man with an old man’s voice plummets into a pit of icy fire; and in still another, a man with a flailing, broken neck dodges a flurry of flaming arrows launched from the bow of a reptilian/insectoid hybrid standing only a metre away from him.

Unfortunately for 'Shira and Nik, the ride is a complete bust. The holograms, already poorly rendered, constantly go staticky and often wink completely out of existence. As a result, the expressions on the young man and girl’s faces are far from ones of terror.

NASHIRA: (deadpan) The banality of evil, ladies and gentlemen.

As their repulsorcart makes its exit, a distinct electrical CRACKLE is heard, quickly followed by a sharp POP. Immediately, the holograms and lights go wholly dead, the power systems completely fried.


The VERPINE VENDOR at a sausage stand takes out a fresh packet of sausages, tears it open, and begins laying the lengths of pale green pseudo-meat down on his grill as Obi-Wan and Nemec approach.

NEMEC: Hey, there.

VERPINE VENDOR: (speaking through a translator) Well, howdy! What can I do ya for?

NEMEC: (scrutinizing the green dogs) What kind of sausages are those?

VERPINE VENDOR: Why, those are bona fide processed magenge weiners, hoss, the finest this side of the Roche system!

NEMEC: Magenge? Never heard of it before. What kind of animal is that?

VERPINE VENDOR: Not a creature, hoss. No, not a creature. It’s a fungus.

NEMEC: (cocks an eyebrow) A fungus?

VERPINE: Indeed, hoss. A sweet fungus. My peoples’ main consumable, to tell ya the gods’ honest truth. Its taste is like the seventh heaven, I can tell ya.

Nemec and Obi-Wan exchange glances.

OBI-WAN: (shrugs) I’m game if you are.

NEMEC: (to the vendor) Alright, I’ll take a pair.

VERPINE VENDOR: Either of ya like ketchsup on yours?

OBI-WAN: I’ll have some.

NEMEC: None for me, thanks.

The vendor quickly assembles the pair of sausages with silent haste. Obi-Wan cringes when he sees the ketchsup – a dark, plum-coloured condiment totally unlike the ketchup/catsup he’s familiar with – squeezed onto his sausage.

VERPINE VENDOR: That’ll be six ingots, if ya please.

Nemec promptly reaches into his right pocket for his wallet. When he doesn’t find it there, he then goes for his left pocket. Not finding it there, he begins patting down his shirt in search of it. He doesn’t have the wallet on him.

NEMEC: Damn, I forgot – I left the wallet with Corin.

OBI-WAN: That’s alright, I’ll pay for them. It’s the least I can do.

Pushing aside the fold of his coat, he goes for his utility belt and, reaching into a pouch, pulls out six Corporate Sector ingots.

OBI-WAN: (to the Verpine) Here you are.

Obi-Wan hands the ingots to the Verpine, who promptly hands him the two sausages.

VERPINE VENDOR: And here ya are.

OBI-WAN: (takes the sausages) Thanks.

Moving away from the stand, Obi-Wan and Nemec head off down the promenade. The Jedi hands the farmer his green sausage.

NEMEC: (turns the sausage over in his hands) A sausage made out of fungus. (beat) What the hell was I thinking paying for this?

OBI-WAN: It may not be all that bad.

NEMEC: Only one way to tell, I suppose.

In synchronous tandem, the two men take bites out of their magenge sausages.

OBI-WAN: (disgusted) UGH! Revolting!

NEMEC: (shrugs) Really? I don’t think mine’s half bad. It’s probably the ketchup on yours. You shouldn’t have gone for any.

Spitting the unpalatable mash out of his mouth, Obi-Wan is quick to toss the rest of the sausage in the nearest trash bin. Nemec is quick to finish his.

NEMEC: Not bad. They don’t hold a candle to real sausages, of course, but they’re decent for all that. (beat) We should have a barbeque next Benduday. Corin makes the best sausages on the planet, and I mean really makes them; she grinds up the meat, mixes in the starch, the whole works.

OBI-WAN: I didn’t know Corin was such the gourmet.

NEMEC: She took a course offworld fifty years ago. She hasn’t put the spatula down since. (beat) Does Siri cook at all, Obi?

OBI-WAN: (grins) Afraid not. I’m the breadmaker in the family.

NEMEC: Well, let me tell you – when you have fifteen children to take care of, it helps to have two parents who can cook.

OBI-WAN: (nonchalant) Fifteen children? Is that all?

NEMEC: (laughs) I’m ninety years old, Obi. I married Corin when I was twenty-two. When you’ve been in a fulfilling marriage as long as I have, you have plenty of time and opportunity to sow, grow, and harvest your own oats – especially when there’s nothing to do between eating, sleeping, working, and the filthy business.

OBI-WAN: (sighs) I suppose not.

Nemec’s brow furrows as he hears the forlornness in Obi-Wan’s voice.

NEMEC: I’m sorry. I forgot about the … situation with your wife.

OBI-WAN: It’s alright. It’s just … it’s just difficult to think about right now. (beat) We should have waited, but we were too impatient to become parents – too damned impatient.

NEMEC: Are you going to try again?

OBI-WAN: Perhaps. I’m not sure. I was so anxious to have a child before, but now … with this … I’m just not sure.

NEMEC: It’s just a matter of finishing the stem cell treatments, isn’t it? You’ve just got to wait until the doctors say she’s fit to carry a child to term and everything should be good to go.

OBI-WAN: If Siri gets pregnant again, she’ll constantly worry about losing it. I don’t know if she can handle that stress again. Besides ….

NEMEC: Besides?

OBI-WAN: I’ve thought about it – run it over-and-over again in my mind – but I’ve never openly discussed it with her ….

NEMEC: What?

OBI-WAN: (sighs) You know that Siri and I follow different paths in the Force?

NEMEC: Aren’t you both Jedi?

OBI-WAN: Yes, but Siri’s a Jedi of the Coruscanti Order; I’m a ronin Jedi. The two schools of thought differ considerably; there’s very little common ground between them. (beat) You’ve noticed that I don’t have my lightsaber on me at present?

NEMEC: Your lasersword? Yeah, I noticed it wasn’t on your belt when you went to pay the bug. Siri’s had hers on, though – front and centre.

OBI-WAN: My master Yoda taught me that weapons – even lightsabers – are only to be taken into situations where their presence is warranted. The Coruscanti Jedi, on the other hand, teach that the lightsaber is an extension of the self – another limb, essentially, which is never to leave one’s side. (beat) Siri and I have argued and disagreed on this and many other doctrines since we met, but we’ve come to respect one another’s differing beliefs.

NEMEC: But with kids ….

OBI-WAN: With children, there’ll always be the question of what to teach them – which doctrines to expose them to, which to steer them clear of. Can either of us swallow our pride and step aside to allow the child to follow teachings we, personally, don’t believe in? Can we reach a compromise? (beat) I honestly don’t know what to do in that sort of situation.

NEMEC: (pats Obi-Wan on the back) This is why I’m happy Corin and I are both atheists. No religion, no conflict.

OBI-WAN: No conflict, hmm? Sounds like a recipe for boredom.

Nemec can’t help but grin.


Siri and Corin elsewhere on the promenade.

With a pair of ice cream cones in their respective hands, the two women make idle small talk. As they pass by a shooting gallery booth, a CARNIE WITH IMPOSSIBLE HAIR lunges out the open booth window, a preternaturally wide, toothy grin plastered across his wizened face.

CARNIE: (chipper) Why, hello ladies! You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a little target practice, would you?

Hearing the man’s exuberant voice, the two women stop in their tracks. As they turn to face him, his already unnaturally big grin expands tenfold.

LARGE CARNIE: (cont’d) Why, of course you’d be! So step right on up, my dears! I don’t bite! Scout’s honour!

Exchanging glances, Corin and Siri give a collective shrug. Finishing their cones, they approach the booth.

Drawing back into the booth, the carnie moves over to a small gun rack holding a small number of lightweight toy rifles. Collecting two of them, he activates their small power packs before returning to his visitors.

CARNIE: (hands the rifles to the women) Here you are! Two laser rifles! These are true laser rifles now, mind you, not blasters! They project low-powered laser beams, not concentrated plasma bursts! Fit for family fun on all civilized worlds, but if you’re looking to fight a pitched battle with enemy forces on an open battlefield, this is not the ordinance for you! (lowers his voice) I have to say all that for legal reasons, you understand. The Authority would flay my hide if I did otherwise.

Accepting the toy weapons, the ladies give them a once-over, looking for all the world like they don’t know how to handle the guns or to what purpose.

Reaching over to the wall on his right, the carnie presses a large red button. Almost instantly, thirty small holograms representing various game birds and other flying creatures familiar throughout the Known Regions flicker to life at the far back wall of the booth. Every couple seconds, the various holograms wink in and out of being along an irregular pattern.

CARNIE: Your objective is to shoot out as many of the holograms as you can within a minute! Repeat hits do not count! I repeat – do not count! (beat) Now begin, and be careful not to shoot yourselves or me in the eye!

Stepping off to the side, the carnie allows the two blondes a clear shot at the holograms. Not used to handling firearms, it takes a couple moments for Siri to get a grip on how to handle her rifle. Corin, on the other hand, wields the toy like a pro. In a microsecond, she has the rifle held at the ready, eye focused along the sight of the barrel with her finger tensed over the trigger.

A minute passes. Siri hits eleven of the holograms, not counting repeats. Corin hits twenty-nine.

CARNIE: (whistles) Wow-ee! I’ve never seen a soul hit twenty-nine of the thirty holograms in non-repeating succession before! Not in sixty years on nineteen worlds!

CORIN: (hands her rifle back to the carnie) What’s my prize?

CARNIE: (flabbergasted) Your prize? (beat) Ah, right – your prize! Just a moment!

The carnie crosses over to a shelf loaded with various prizes. Reaching for the top shelf, he grabs and pulls down the top prize.

CARNIE: (hands the prize to Corin) Here you are, my lovely girl! A prize worthy of a prize such as yourself!

Corin accepts the stuffed bantha with subdued joy.


Corin and Siri back on their trek along the promenade.

SIRI: You’re an amazing shot, Corin, I’m serious. You handled the toy like a professional sharpshooter.

CORIN: (shrugs) I’ve had practice.

SIRI: So tell me – where’d you get your “practice”?

CORIN: My father was a police officer. He used to take me up to the shooting range every weekend. That’s where I learned how to handle a blaster.

SIRI: Police officer? You mean --?

CORIN: He wasn’t an Espo. (beat) Well, he was, but before the Authority became so militarized, so corrupt. (beat) He was a good man; he hated what the Security Police had become.

SIRI: Is life here so bad?

CORIN: When Nashira was young, Nemec and I could take her out on hunting trips into the woods. All that changed ten years ago, when the Authority declared all the undeveloped regions of Orron III “ecological reserves”. Anyone who goes into a hinterland without authorization is quickly picked up by Espo scanners and twice as quickly tracked down and shot like a beast.

SIRI: Did you ever consider leaving? Just packing up and moving out of the Corporate Sector?

CORIN: That would be nice. We could sell our farm – stars know the Authority’s eagre to buy the remaining independent farms out – charter a flight out of the Corporate Sector, and start over on a fresh new world – a world where no one would bat an eye at us for dipping our feet into a running stream. (beat) But it’ll never happen.

SIRI: Corin, you must know that Obi-Wan and I’d be perfectly willing to help you get settled. I have connections. I could –

CORIN: (holds her hand up) Siri, you don’t understand. This isn’t about money or emigration or any of that. (beat) Were it up to me, we’d have sold the farm and left the Corporate Sector years ago. Unfortunately, the farm’s Nemec’s birthright; he’s more married to it than he is to me. He’ll sooner die than part with it.

SIRI: That is truly a shame. The war aside, the Empire’s a wonderful place to live. You’d never have to go about life in fear of totalitarianism there.

CORIN: Your Empire sounds like a dream come true. (sighs) But I’ve never placed much stock in dreams.

SIRI: Hmm?

CORIN: You describe the Empire is as if were an egalitarian paradise, a near-utopia. But wasn’t the Wookiee homeworld placed under martial law after your previous war, by decree of your Senate?

SIRI: It’s not a decision the senators made lightly. You have to understand, Kashyyyk had become a hotbed of Separatist activity during the war; the Separatist presence was so firmly entrenched that the standard disarmament procedures just weren’t working. For the sake of the Wookiees, for all concerned, we had to crack down. It was better than the alternative.

CORIN: But that was several years ago. Can you really tell me the situation hasn’t cooled down since then?

SIRI: (frowns) We’ve been at war with the Clonemasters for nineteen years, Corin. Our men and resources have been stretched thin for far too long. We haven’t had the luxury of being able to focus our attentions on Kashyyyk and the Wookiees.

Corin silently decides to let the conversation end there.


Eventually Anakin and Nashira, Siri and Corin, and Obi-Wan and Nemec regroup. From there they go to various different attractions together, enjoying the fun parts and suffering through the painful bits together as one collective family.

As the suns lower on the horizon, the collective family leaves to return home.


Back at the homestead, the three couples steal away into their own separate bedrooms. There, under the sheets, beneath the deep shadows of night, the men make love to their women, slowly and tenderly.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



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.


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?


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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 ….


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.


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.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Located atop a plateau surrounded on all sides by open, barren, cold desert is Condawn City, capital of Geonosis’ Condawn Province. Though there are veritable metropolises built deep underground in immense subterranean caverns, at 122.19 km2 in area, Condawn City is the largest settlement located atop the surface of the planet.


SIX KIDS – the olive-skinned boy KITSTER; the fat Rodian boy WALD; the red-haired boy SEEK; the “twin” Zeltron girls AMEE and MELEE; and the ringleader, dark-haired, dark-eyed DARTH – have gathered together out on the streets of Condawn City. They stand outside a crumbling, old duracrete building, huddled in close together at a public comm station.

As Darth dials a number, the others start to giggle. Once he shushes them, they quickly fall silent.


The Gran bartender AKS MOE is working the bar when his comm rings.

AKS MOE: (answers the comm) Kalsyz’s Cantina.


DARTH: (grins) Hi. Could I speak to Blo, please? Blo Zedong?


AKS MOE: Wait, I’ll ask. (to his patrons) Blo Zedong? Blo Zedong! C’mon, step forward! I wanna Blo Zedong here!

The barflies spontaneously erupt in uproarious laughter.

BARFLY: Are you sure you wanna Blo Maidong?


The kids guffaw right along with the barflies.


As everyone continues to laugh at his expense, Aks’ orange face deepens to scarlet.

AKS MOE: (into the comm; enraged) If I ever get my hands on you, I’ll ream you out with a hydrospanner! (hangs up)


The kids continue to chuckle.

KISTER: That was so wizard, Darth!

WALD: (claps Darth on the back) Yeah!

DARTH: (checks his chrono) Oh, man! We gotta fly! C’mon!

Leaving the comm, Darth brings out his skimboard. Dropping it to the ground, he hops onto the hovering board and then takes off. Following his lead, the five other children hop on their own skimboards and take off after him.


The kids race through the streets of Condawn City, zooming along the sidewalks, over obstacles, and between pedestrians. They are, quite frankly, making nuisances of themselves.

MELEE: Where are we going, Darth?

DARTH: The Kwisatzhader Mart is having a 2-for-1 sale on sludgies today – one day only! – and the place closes in nine minutes!

As the kids get ready to cross a street, a landspeeder comes passing through the road. Instead of halting to let the vehicle pass, Darth makes a jump, skimming along the roof of the speeder before continuing on over to the other side.

Unfortunately for the ne’er-do-well, a PAIR OF POLICE ‘DROIDS seated in a clear-top speeder spot his dangerous, foolhardy stunt.

KR-L: Let’s roll, LO-U.

Engaging the engines, turning on the siren, the ‘droids take off after Darth.


Noticing the cops on his tail, Darth makes a sharp turn to the left and ducks into an alley, counting on the narrowness of the alleyway to cut the ‘droids off and make good his escape. LO-U simply realigns the vehicle vertically, allowing them admittance into the alleyway, continuing the pursuit.

As Darth barrels down ahead, he sights what lies at the end of the alley: a solid, stone wall. The only way out is back the way he came.

KR-L: You’ve reached the end of the line, son! Time to submit yourself before the law!

Gritting his teeth, Darth only coaxes more power from his skimboard. Reaching the end of the alley, he throws his legs up, allowing him to ride up the wall. Even the maneuverable speeder can’t make that climb in the space available.

Not designed for vertical ascents, the skimboard can’t take Darth all the way up the wall and onto the roof. As he succumbs to the power of gravity, Darth repositions the board horizontally, then urging some more juice from the repulsors, he passes right over the police speeder.


Emerging from the alleyway, Darth continues down the street. The police speeder, still hot on his heels, emerges from the alley after him.

DARTH: (looks behind him) What does it take to shake off these guys?

The chase continues. Eventually, Darth comes to a body of water: an artificial pond, very spacious, with much distance between this end and the other.

DARTH: (grins) Water. They can’t follow me across water.


Reaching the edge of the pond, Darth leaps over the levee. Continuing on across the liquid surface, he looks around behind him. The cops have parked their speeder and climbed out of the cab; they now just stand there at the edge, watching him.

DARTH: (laughs) Eat my slacks, sucke --!

The skimboard loses velocity, and Darth falls silent before he completes his insult. He forgot that if the ‘droids’ speeder can’t make the crossing over water, then neither can his mere skimboard.

Darth falls into the water with a large SPLASH.


A slender, middle-aged woman is busy in the kitchen preparing dinner. Her pleasant face marked by laugh lines and crow’s feet, her brunette hair long and braided, she is SHMI WARKA, Darth’s mother.

A KNOCK at the front door rouses her attention.


Coming to the front door, Shmi opens it. Standing outside are the two police ‘droids KR-L and LO-U.

SHMI: (frowns) May I help you?

KR-L: Are you Shmi Warka, Darth Warka’s mother?

SHMI: Yes.

KR-L: Madam, your son is no more …

LO-U brings Darth out from behind itself, strong metal hands clamped around the nine-year-old’s shoulders to keep him from getting away.

KR-L: (cont’d) … than an ill-bred troublemaker.

Shmi looks upon her son. Darth keeps his eyes averted to the ground.


Sometime later.

The police ‘droids have departed. Shmi now paces about the room, harshly rebuking her son.

SHMI: (cont’d; irate) I keep getting reports from your teachers about you skipping school, about you getting into fights with the other children! Your grades are terrible and you’re this far from expulsion, so what do you do?! You go out into town with that pack of hooligans to cause more trouble, to leave more messes for me to clean up! (beat) I’ve tried talking with you, helping you, but nothing I do seems good enough. Nothing works. (sighs) I’m at my wit’s end with you, Darth.

DARTH: (sullen) Can I go to my room now?

SHMI: Go to your room so you can do what? Bury yourself in some stupid game so you can avoid everything I’ve been telling you?! (angry) No! You can’t go to your room! We’re staying right here in this room together until we’ve worked out what to do with you!

DARTH: (angry) Work it out yourself!

Turning away from his mother, Darth crosses over to the front door.

SHMI: Where do you think you’re going?!


SHMI: The hell you are!

Shmi strides up to Darth and pulls him away from the door.

DARTH: Let me go!

Darth begins wrestling with his mother, struggling to pull free. When that doesn’t work, he bites her on the wrist – hard.


Shocked and enraged, Shmi smacks Darth against the face. He goes down. Putting his hand to his red cheek, the boy looks more startled than hurt.

SHMI: (horrified) Oh, Darth!

Crouching down, Shmi sweeps Darth up in her arms.

SHMI: (crying) Darth … Darth ….

There on the floor, cradling her troubled son, Shmi Warka weeps, at the end of her rope.


Siri, now attired in the uniform of a knight of the Coruscanti Order, stands within the chamber doorway, her gaze focused on the twelve Jedi masters seated at the centre of the room. Having assembled to discuss hot topics revolving around acolytes of their order hours before, their meeting is now drawing to a close.

MACE WINDU: (cont’d) So it is agreed – we will dispatch a party led by Mistress D’kana to deal with the apostates on Christophsis. I will issue the order myself. (beat) Meeting adjourned.

The meeting at an end, the Jedi masters and mistresses rise from their seats and begin to file out. Stepping out of the doorway, Siri allows the masters exit, deferentially bowing her head to each and every one of them as they pass through. Only ten of the twelve leave the room, however; MACE WINDU and ADI GALLIA remain positioned by their seats.

MACE WINDU: Knight Tachi. Please, come forward.

Obeying his command, Siri steps on over to join the two masters, her hands clasped behind her back and her back ramrod straight.

ADI GALLIA: (smiles) At ease, Siri. Save the rigid formality for the Imperial commanders.

Siri allows herself to loosen up.

MACE WINDU: How was your vacation, Siri?

SIRI: It was … good, Master Windu, very relaxing. Getting away from the capital for a while was just what I needed. I’m back now, though, ready to resume my duties to the Order.

MACE WINDU: Good, because we have a special assignment lined up for you.

SIRI: Will I be going to the front?

ADI GALLIA: No, not that. Something closer to home.

MACE WINDU: As of late, our duties on the Council have kept us completely occupied, forcing us to stay on-duty late into the night. Because of this, we haven’t been able to give our son, Uzochi, as much attention as we’d like.

ADI GALLIA: The nanny 'droid has been taking excellent care of him, but he’s a four year old boy; he needs the constant care and attention only another person can provide.

SIRI: So you’d like me to be his caretaker.

ADI GALLIA: Only during the afternoon. Your mornings and evenings would be completely free.

MACE WINDU: The 'droid can handle 'Chi the rest of the day.

The masters give Siri a moment of silence to think things over.

SIRI: Master Windu, Mistress Gallia, I’d be honoured to care for your son. When shall I start?

In response, the two Jedi spouses smile.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.


It’s okay, but your dialogue pales in comparison to BillionaireHobo’s.

Obviously, I’m kidding.

Not enough people read the EU.



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.


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.


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


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.


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.


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.


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


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.


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.


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.


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.


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?


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.


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.


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.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Standing in the centre of the chamber, trapped within a magnetic containment field, is IAM PUSHMAN. A lean Human male of average height, with sandy brown hair and an aquiline chin and nose, his would be described as handsome features. Judging by the clothes he wears, it would appear that he is one of the Sojourner’s crewmen.

As the doors leading into the room slide open, Pushman looks up to regard his visitor. It is Sigeu. Resolving to stand firm, Pushman makes direct eye contact with the veiled woman in a show of defiance. Upon doing so, however, her eyes – bright beneath her niqab – bore into him, slicing through his confidence like a blue-hot laser. Unable to withstand her gaze, he recoils, turning his head away.

SGW-0027: Why do you turn away?

When the man refuses to respond, the clone walks up to him. Bringing forth her gloved right hand, she gently takes hold of his chin, turning his face to hers.

SGW-0027: Again – why do you turn away?

Squeezing his eyes firmly shut, he violently wrenches his head out from her grasp.

SGW-0027: (angry) You’re not answering my question!

Throwing all gentility to the wind, Sigeu seizes Pushman’s throat in a choke hold and squeezes, pinching his windpipe instantly shut. She holds him there for several seconds, tightening his grasp until he starts wheezing. As soon as he begins to thrash against his bonds, though, she releases him, allowing him to breathe again.

SGW-0027: Now … are you going to give me an answer?

IAM PUSHMAN: (coughing) I-I couldn’t … couldn’t look at you. Your eyes … your eyes … I couldn’t stand them.

Hearing this answer, the clone returns her hand to his face. Afraid that he’s earned her displeasure once more, he draws his head back in a vain, straining against his bonds for escape. She merely begins running her fingers through his hair, though, stroking it as a pet owner would the fur of a beloved animal companion.

SGW-0027: What’s your name?

IAM PUSHMAN: (petrified) Iam, ma’am. Iam Pushman.

SGW-0027: Iam, you’re a handsome man. A handsome man with a handsome face. You know that, don’t you?

When he fails to reply, she pulls his hair back, forcing a pained YELP from his lips.

SGW-0027: Don’t you?

IAM PUSHMAN: (grimacing) Yes – yes!

SGW-0027: The women back home must like it, your handsome face.


Releasing his hair, she moves over to a rack. On the rack are cruel instruments of torture – each one more terrible than the last. Removing her cloak, she drapes it over the rack. Picking up a metal gauntlet, she slips it down over her right hand. With the turn of a small dial, the filaments embedded in the palm and along the fingers crackle with angry red energy.

SGW-0027: Do you like your face?

Moving up close to Pushman’s face, she brushes a finger against his cheek. Where the filaments touch, red energy is discharged, burning the flesh, causing the poor man to winch with sharp pain.

IAM PUSHMAN: (voice breaking) Yes! I like my face! I like it!

SGW-0027: (lowers her hand) I like it, too.

The clone then seizes the front of Pushman’s shirt with her free hand. With one strong pull, she tears it off him, exposing his naked torso with its sparse hair and lean musculature.

SGW-0027: (cont’d) I’m going to leave the face….

Deactivating and removing the gauntlet, she replaces it on the rack and takes up another instrument: a metallic whip. Unwinding the lash, the clone admiral walks around and behind Pushman. As she does so, she presses a stud set in the handle; immediately a white energy field is generated around the metal lash.

IAM PUSHMAN: (desperate) Please! I just work the hand truck! I don’t know anything! I don’t have anything! What do you want from me?!

SGW-0027: What do I want?

Raising the lightwhip, she draws it back.

SGW-0027: I want to hear you whimper. I want to hear you moan.

Violently, Sigeu swings the lightwhip. The lash slides across Pushman’s back, cutting into it and leaving a bright red line of cauterized flesh behind. As we can judge from his scream, the agony Pushman suddenly feels is beyond excruciating.

SGW-0027: (cont’d) But most of all, I want to hear you scream.

Sigeu strikes with the lightwhip again, cutting another red line across Pushman’s back. His second scream makes the first sound like a cry of pleasure.


In the corridor directly outside the interrogation centre stands OFFICER UIY-2249, clone captain and SGW-0027’s second-in-command. A slender Mirialan male, he wears an expression of utmost serenity on his olive green face. Reaching for the doors’ controls, he opens them and steps inside.


As the Mirialan clone enters the room, he finds his commanding officer there in the aftermath of her session with Iam Pushman. Pushman, shrouded in shadow, is held limp within the containment field, grisly in death. Sigeu, turned away from Uwe, stands over the corpse.

SGW-0027: I didn’t call for you.

UIY-2249: Shall I summon the cleaning staff to take care of your – um – latest sparring partner?

The admiral turns to face the commander. She radiates silent, lurking menace. He gives her his laid-back smile in return.


The members of a typical Condawni family sit on their living area sofa, watching a news telecast on the holovid display.

The newscaster reveals that all contact and communication with the larger galactic community has been lost; ships from offworld haven’t been coming in; access to the HoloNet and other interstellar communication systems has been cut off; and all outgoing hyperwave transmissions have gone unanswered. All evidence indicates that, for reasons unknown, a hostile force has established a complete blockade around the Geonosis system.


Few people walk the streets and even fewer vehicles drive along the roads. Before the blockade, there would’ve been more activity going on in a city this size at this time of day, but with all valuable resources now finite, everyone strives to conserve what they have for as long as they can.

One landspeeder – an old, green, closed-canopy speeder – is en-route to the Capitol House.


At the controls of the speeder is Shmi Warka. Taking her eyes off the road for a moment, she looks to Darth, who sits in the seat beside her. The boy, sulky and silent, refuses to reciprocate.


The green speeder arrives at the front gate to the grounds of Capitol Centre. Already gathered there are HUNDREDS OF PROTESTERS. As Shmi rolls down her window and leans out to enter her passcode into the access terminal, they all begin shouting at her, demanding to know who is behind the blockade and what her bosses are doing to lift it.

Once the terminal accepts the code, the gate begins to slide open. Rolling up the window to dampen the onslaught of curses and threats, she pulls on through.


Entering the building, Shmi and Darth make their way to the end of the hall. Chlorian is already there waiting for them. Clad in a simple brown Imperial uniform stripped of any and all rank insignia, he keeps his hands held behind him, a none-too-genuine half-smile worn upon his face.

SHMI WARKA: Darth, this is Governor Vader.

CHLORIAN VADER: (holds out his hand) Darth, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Your mother talks the world of you.

DARTH: (ignores his hand) Yeah, I’m sure.

SHMI WARKA: (sighs) Please, Darth, be polite.

DARTH: (smirks) Okay.

Spitting into his hand, he clasps Chlorian’s.

DARTH: (grins broadly) Pleased to meet ya!

SHMI WARKA: (facepalms) Don’t do this. Not now.

DARTH: (angry) What does it matter to you anymore? You finally got me out of your hair.

Getting down on one knee, Shmi puts her hands on the boy’s shoulders. She is emotional, on the verge of tears, but she keeps her composure – barely.

SHMI WARKA: I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to hand you off to someone else. But Governor Vader can give you the care and attention you need – all the care and attention I can’t give you. Can’t you understand?

Darth’s mood remains as dark as ever.

SHMI WARKA: (voice breaking) Darth, I love you.

DARTH: Frak you and your frakking love.

Rising to her full height, Shmi takes a step back.

SHMI WARKA: (wipes tears from her eyes; to Chlorian) Do what you have to do.

At that, Shmi turns on her heel and leaves for the door as quickly as her feet can carry her there.


Mistress Gallia stands with her son Uzochi, her hand over the hilt of her lightsaber to prevent the child from plucking it from her belt, when a KNOCK is heard at the door.

ADI GALLIA: It’s open.

Opening the door, Siri enters the apartment of the Windu family. Approaching her teacher, Siri bows in greeting. Mistress Gallia responds in kind.

ADI GALLIA: You didn’t get stuck in traffic, I hope.

SIRI: I cut it close, but I managed to avoid the rush hour. (beat) Where is Master Windu?

ADI GALLIA: Mace couldn’t be here. He’s been in conference with the emperor and chancellor since 0800. (to Uzochi) 'Chi, darling, this is Siri. She’s a good friend of mine. You remember her, don’t you?

Siri looks upon the child and smiles. Uzochi, a small child in spite of his age, looks almost cherub-like under the simple white tunic and pants he wears.

SIRI: (crouches down) Hi there, 'Chi. I’m gonna be your new caretaker from now on. You know what that means, don’t you? It means I’ll be spending a couple hours with you everyday for awhile. We’ll play games, go out for treats, stuff like that. Does that sound like fun to you?

A shy child, 'Chi grabs hold of his mother’s leg and clings close, gazing upon Siri warily with his brown-and-indigo eyes.

ADI GALLIA: (places her hand on Uzochi’s head) It’s alright, 'Chi. Siri’s my friend, remember? She’ll take good care of you while Mommy and Daddy are at work.

UZOCHI: Nan takes care of me.

ADI GALLIA: Nan’s a machine, 'Chi. You need to be with living, breathing people once in awhile.

Pulling her boy off of her, Gallia walks on over to the front door.

ADI GALLIA: (turns to Siri) I don’t know when Mace will be back, but I should be here around 1915. (waves to 'Chi) See you tonight, honey. Have a good time with Siri, okay? Love you.

UZOCHI: Bye, Mommy.

At that, the Jedi mistress leaves the apartment. Once she has left, Siri turns to Uzochi.

SIRI: So, 'Chi, what do you want to do? What do you and Nan usually do this time of day?

Wordlessly, Uzochi turns his back on the knight and runs off for a place to hide. Sighing, Siri sets off after him.


Opening the door, Chlorian lets Darth inside. Stepping inside, Darth takes a gander at his new dwellings.

DARTH: (nods with approval) Swell digs.

Crossing over to a plush armchair, Darth throws himself onto it.

DARTH: When do I get my stuff?

Closing the door, Chlorian strides up to Darth. His face is as harsh and as cold as rough-hewn stone.

CHLORIAN VADER: Listen to me. That sithspit you pulled in the hall? Your mother may cave to it, but I won’t. I am not temperamental, not emotional. Cross me, and I won’t break down and cry; I will make you break down and cry. I am quite the uncompromising, unforgiving bastard, and each of my eight children can attest to that. Are we clear on this?

If Darth could disappear into the folds of the chair he is sitting in, he would.

DARTH: Crystal.

Satisfied with Darth’s response, Chlorian turns to leave.

CHLORIAN VADER: (opens the door) A servant will bring your belongings to you shortly.

Stepping out, the governor closes the door behind him.


Cautiously, Siri enters Uzochi’s bedroom. A small room, it doesn’t contain much; a bed, a closet, a dresser, two small chairs, and a couple toys are all that take up space within it. 'Chi has hidden himself somewhere in here, but it’s only a matter of time before Siri finds him.

SIRI: 'Chi, I know you’re in here. There’s no point hiding from me – I know where you are.

Treading softly, the Jedi Knight makes her way over to the closet door. Pulling it open, she finds it stuffed bottom-to-top with various stuffed toys. There, wedged between a plush Kreevaki and paddle-footed sapient from the Brodo Asogi system, is Uzochi’s young head.

SIRI: (grins) Gotcha!

Unfortunately for Siri, Uzochi doesn’t share her good humour. Discovered, the young boy shrieks in terror and bursts through the pile of stuffed creatures, dashing past Siri and out the open door as stuffed animals bombard the poor woman like soft meteoroids.

SIRI: (sighs) Ancients preserve me ….


At the Westport spaceport, right outside the entrance into Docking Bay 77, Capt. Bail Organa waits. Leaning against the wall, he checks his wrist chronometre for what must be the fiftieth time that afternoon.

As if materializing from the shadows of Westport itself, Obi-Wan and Anakin suddenly appear.

BAIL: It’s about time you two got here. We were about ready to take off without you.

ANAKIN: Sorry. We had some business to take care of first.

BAIL: Let’s go.

The three men proceed to enter the docking bay.


Within the dim interior of the docking bay, Bail leads the two Jedi toward the ship they will be making the trip to Townowi on.

BAIL: Gentlemen, may I present you the Wayward Son.

Standing before them, like a great big cheeseburger with a great big bite taken out of it, an olive stuck in its side, is the Wayward Son. A YT-1300 light freighter which came off the assembly line twenty-five years ago, it is as old as Obi-Wan. As such, the ship’s surface bears the tell-tale signs of weathering, patching, and scoring that come with almost three decades of constant action.

ANAKIN: (snickers) What a piece of junk.

BAIL: You ever hear of not judging a book by it’s cover, son?

ANAKIN: I wouldn’t know. I haven’t ever seen a book.

BAIL: (to Obi-Wan) You’ve never taken him to a museum?

The Jedi Knight merely shrugs.

BAIL: (sighs) Let’s go on inside.


Bail, Obi-Wan, and Nik enter the main hold, where they find six individuals – CMDR. RAIA VANESS; CMDR. JANGO CODY; MSC. KATHE NAAD; DR. ZOSIME MOULIN; SPACEMAN PETRA ANDUE; and SN. MAL’AKHI – waiting for them. The officers and scholars all stop whatever it is they’re doing to momentarily focus their attention on the Jedi.

BAIL: (to Obi-Wan and Nik) You met these folks at the briefing, but I don’t believe you were formally introduced.

OBI-WAN: Other than Cmdr. Vaness, I haven’t had the pleasure, no.

CMDR. VANESS: (salutes Obi-Wan) Greetings, Knight Kenobi. It’s good to see you again.

OBI-WAN: And you as well, Commander.

CMDR. VANESS: (nods to Nik) I don’t believe I’ve met your handsome companion before.

ANAKIN: (bows) Anakin Tan Skywalker at your service, madame.

CMDR. VANESS: (grins) Handsome and genteel. You must do some lucky girl proud, Knight Skywalker.

ANAKIN: (grins) I try my best.

BAIL: As for the rest of the team …. (points at a lanky Gungan female) That’s Dr. Zosime Moulin, our resident astrocartographer.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (gives the two Jedi a short wave) Salutations.

BAIL: (points at a willowy Human woman with pale skin and long, brown hair) That’s Kathe Naad.

KATHE NAAD: (smiles) Cryptographer.

BAIL: (points at a Human male, a muscular Falleen woman, and a black-scaled Barabel) And that’s Cmdr. Jango Cody and Spacemen Petra Andue and Mal’Akhi, the muscle of the group.

OBI-WAN: Hello.


A stocky man of average height, Cmdr. Cody has close-cropped black hair, a swarthy complexion, and a face so stern it could have been chiselled from granite. Cocking an eyebrow, he issues one low GRUNT.

OBI-WAN: (under his breath) Not the talkative type, is he?

BAIL: Jango’s a man of action, not words.

OBI-WAN: Worked with him before?

BAIL: (nods) Last year, in the Battle of Concord Dawn.

OBI-WAN: Not Imperial, is he?


OBI-WAN: Journeyman Protector?

BAIL: Yes.

OBI-WAN: I’ve heard they’re excellent warriors.

BAIL: You heard correctly.

Their conversation ends there.


Uzochi, having fled his bedroom for that of his parents, is now in hiding under their large bed.

Having surmised 'Chi’s probable location, Siri enters the bedroom doorway, a food tray held in her arms. Reticent to scare the child any more than she already has, she remains motionless in the doorframe.

SIRI: 'Chi, is it alright if I come in? (beat) I prepared a snack for us. (beat) I’m going to come inside now, okay?

Tentatively, Siri walks inside. Taking small steps, she makes her way to the end of the bed.

SIRI: I made two sandwiches, 'Chi, one for you and one for me. I’m just going to set this tray down now and have one. You don’t have to join me if you don’t want to, but it’d be sad if the sandwich I made for you goes to waste.

Slowly, she lowers the tray onto the carpeted floor, right in front of Uzochi’s eyes. Just as slowly, she sits down, crossing her legs before her. Then, picking up a sandwich, she begins to eat.

Moments pass. His hunger overpowering his fear, 'Chi crawls out from under the bed and cautiously sits down across from Siri.

SIRI: (smiles) Would you like your sandwich?

UZOCHI: (reserved) Yes, please.

Her smile broadening into a grin, Siri hands the boy his sandwich.


Leaving the bronze surface of Coruscant, the Wayward Son heads toward the star-spangled fabric of darkness that is deep space.


Raia Vaness sits in the pilot’s seat, hands on the controls, while Bail stands over her.

BAIL: Course laid in?

CMDR. VANESS: Course laid in.

BAIL: Then engage hyperdrive whenever you’re ready, Commander.

CMDR. VANESS: Aye, Captain.

Vaness pulls back on the hyperdrive levers, engaging the drive.

BAIL: Townowi, here we come.

CMDR. VANESS: That’s the plan, at any rate.


Carried forward on pseudo-motion, the Son is catapulted into the depthless fathoms of hyperspace.


Llomon enters the cockpit, two large and meaty drumsticks in his hands. Crossing over to the pilot’s seat, he finds Mahttoh there, fast asleep, snoring.

LLOMON: (in Dosh, subtitled) Wake up, Mahttoh. We’re almost there.

When the Wookiee refuses to stir, the Trandoshan whacks him in the side of the head with one of the drumsticks.

LLOMON: (subtitled) Wake up!

Jolted out of his sleep, the Wookiee looks up at his partner and notices the drumsticks.

MAHTTOH: (in Shyriiwook, subtitled) It’s dinner already?

LLOMON: (subtitled) Breakfast. You’ve been asleep since yesterday afternoon. (hands the Wookiee a drumstick) Now here, take it and get ready to drop out of hyperspace. We’re coming up on our destination.

Taking the drumstick, the Wookiee takes a ravenous bite. Reaching for the hyperspace levers, he pulls them back, allowing them to drop into realspace.

LLOMON: (subtitled) And there’s the great big ball of cheese herself.

Situated out beyond the viewport, massive even from this distance, is the ecumenopolis of Coruscant.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Nashira is seated before her bedroom window, looking out into the ebon sky aglow with sparkling stars, when her mother opens the door and peeks her head inside.

CORIN: Getting ready for bed?

NASHIRA: (turns to Corin) Yes, Mom. (turns back to the open window) I was just saying goodnight to Anakin.

CORIN: Alright. Sweet dreams, beautiful.

NASHIRA: (smiles) You too, Mom.

Corin departs, taking the time to close the door behind her.

Soon after, Nashira gets up from her chair and leaves the window. Crossing over to her bed, she discards her nightgown, revealing the turquoise nightshirt she’s wearing underneath. Sliding under the sheets, she claps her hands twice, deactivating the lights. Shrouded in deep shadow, she pulls the covers up to her chin.

NASHIRA: (sighs) Nik ….

Crossing her hands under her head, 'Shira tries to relax enough to fall asleep. When that doesn’t work, she turns over on her side, bracing her hands under her face. That doesn’t work, either, so she flips right over on her belly, pushing the side of her face into her plush pillow. Even that fails for her.

NASHIRA: (flipping back over onto her back) God, I don’t know if You even exist, but if You do, please – just one good night’s sleep. That’s all I ask. Just one single night of deep, uninterrupted, REM sleep. I can’t handle another sleepless night – I really can’t.

Whether God hears her prayer and answers it will remain unknown to us. In either case, Nashira manages to drift off into a light, uncertain sleep.


Anakin lies seated inside the Wayward Son’s lower gun well, eyes fixed upon the streaming fabric of hyperspace situated beyond the transparisteel viewport.

ANAKIN: (morose) 'Shira ….

Anakin soon finds himself nodding off. Before a minute passes, he is fast asleep.


Leaving the conscious world, we find ourselves looking upon a most unusual planet. Floating within the the blue morass of hyperspace, it is divided into two halves: one bright coral, the other dark teal.


Anakin suddenly finds himself standing within the gray border region between the teal and coral sides of the strange world. Before him, clad in her turquoise nightshirt, is Nashira. The two lovers approach.

NASHIRA: (frowns) Nik? (looks about their surroundings)

ANAKIN: (looks up at the swirling maelstrom that is the sky) I think we’re in hyperspace.

NASHIRA: How’s that possible? Planets can’t exist in hyperspace. (beat) Can they?

ANAKIN: This isn’t real.

NASHIRA: It feels real enough.

ANAKIN: This is a dream. Yeah, just a dream. I fell asleep in the gun well, staring out into hyperspace, and now I’m having this crazy dream. I’m not really here. You’re not the real ‘Shira. This is all just a space-happy scenario I dredged up from my subconscious. (laughs) They say not to look out into hyperspace for too long.

NASHIRA: (cocks an eyebrow) I’m not real? Buster, this is my dream. You’re the one who’s a figment of my imagination.

ANAKIN: (sighs) Well, one of us is the dreamer and the other the dreamt. We can’t both be having the same dream. We can’t both be real.

NASHIRA: Anakin, maybe we are having the same dream. Maybe we are both here, real, together.

ANAKIN: Excuse me?

NASHIRA: This is a Force rapport. We’re sharing a dream through our connection in the Force!

ANAKIN: No way. You’re on Orron III. I’m in hyperspace going stars knows where thousands of light-years away. It can’t be done, not at those distances!

NASHIRA: (rests her hands on Anakin’s arms) Maybe it can, Anakin. (beat) I’ve read strange stories about hyperspace. Not just the stuff about ships encountering hyperspatial lifeforms or crossing over into alternate universes and timelines, but reports of psionics and Force-sensitives having their abilities boosted while in-transit. That could be what’s happening to us.

ANAKIN: I’ve never encountered phenomena like that before and never met anyone who has.

NASHIRA: (shrugs) Maybe it happens only rarely.

ANAKIN: (smiles) Well, rapport or not, it’s nice to see you. It gets lonely without you, ‘Shira.

NASHIRA: (sneers) Oh, don’t give me that “I get so lonely without you” jive. I know you’ve got a girl at every port of call. You’re about as lonely as a Black Sun vigo.

ANAKIN: (frowns) 'Shira, you wound me! I’d never do a thing like that. (grins salaciously) Not when I’ve got several fine specimens available to me right here on this ship.

NASHIRA: (cocks an eyebrow) Oh, really?

ANAKIN: Yeah. Four of 'em in fact. (beat) Well, three actually; I’m not really interested in the Gungan. Sure, she can probably do amazing things with that tongue of hers, but that face …. (shakes head) Cmdr. Vaness and Sn. Andue, on the other hand – ooh, they’re both mighty fine. Andue doesn’t have much of a chest, but she’s got an amazing tush. She’s Falleen, too. Can you just imagine it? I’d enter the bedroom and there they’d both be, dressed in nothing but skimpy lingerie. Andue would start pumping out those pheromones of hers, then –

Nashira slips Anakin in the face. Hard.


NASHIRA: That’s it. I can’t abide an unfaithful boyfriend. You need to be chastised, and since this is a dream and I can make anything I imagine real –

'Shira brings up a chrome lightsaber hilt. With a press of the activation stud, she engages an angry red blade.

NASHIRA: (cont’d) – I can carry through with your chastisement right here, right now.

Taking several steps back, Anakin raises his hands to ward her away.

ANAKIN: (frightened) C’mon now. You know I was joking. I’d never cheat on you. (grins weakly) Vaness and Andue aren’t very attractive, anyway. Too old for me – both of them.

Locking the blade of the lightsaber on, 'Shira rears back her arm then sends the blade twirling through the air towards Anakin. He freezes, instinctively raising his hands up to protect his face. As the lightsaber hits him, though, the hilt and the plasma blade both transform. With a loud SPLASH, the young Jedi finds himself coated in layers of red-and-silver paint.

NASHIRA: (giggles) It isn’t a cold shower, but it should work just as well.

Frowning, Nik wipes and flings the dripping paint off of him.

ANAKIN: Not funny, Nashira. This was a fresh outfit.

NASHIRA: And this is a dream, laserbrain. Now clean yourself off and come to me.

Reaching up behind his head, Anakin finds the tab of a zipper there. Pulling it up, over, and down, he unzips his paint-marred skin and clothes as if they were one whole suit. With tugging and stretching, he manages to get the whole deal off him, revealing a brand new Anakin identical to the original underneath.

ANAKIN: There – how’s that?

NASHIRA: Serviceable.

Stepping up to 'Shira, Nik wraps his arms around her.

ANAKIN: (grins) What do you think we should do while we’re here?

NASHIRA: (strokes his hair) What else? (beat) Besides, I wanna feel what it’s like to do it long distance.

ANAKIN: Alright. But first –

Taking his hands away from Nashira’s waist, Nik brings up his left hand and snaps his fingers. With a puff of purple smoke, Raia Vaness and Petra Andue suddenly materialize. Dressed in the scant articles of clothing Anakin mentioned before, they strike alluring poses before their creator. Frowning, 'Shira snaps her own fingers. With a puff of smoke, the facsimiles of Vaness and Andue are instantly replaced by a tall man with dark blond hair and a shorter man sporting brown hair and Van Dyke beard; they are both attired in the same lingerie their feminine predecessors sported.

ANAKIN: (nonplussed) Who the hell are they?!

NASHIRA: (takes Nik’s head in her hands) Wouldn’t you like to know ….

Locking their lips in a deep kiss, the two lovers lower themselves onto a large, round bed which has suddenly appeared. Now ignored, Nashira’s two masculine creations exchange glances, shrug, then cease to exist in a puff of purple smoke.


Anakin and Nashira sometime later, cuddling together under the bed sheets, both looking up into the strange blue sky with contemplation.

ANAKIN: This was nice.

NASHIRA: It was, wasn’t it? (beat) Do you think we’ll ever be able to meet like this again?

ANAKIN: No. I feel that this – whatever this is – is a one-time deal.

NASHIRA: (sighs) It was good while it lasted.

ANAKIN: I’ll continue to dream about you, like I do every night.

NASHIRA: (kisses Nik’s shoulder) Likewise.

With that, the dream comes to a close.


Awakening, Anakin finds that the ship has dropped out of hyperspace. Situated out beyond the viewport is realspace.


Entering the cockpit, Bail crosses over to the pilot’s seat. Peering out the viewport, he gazes upon the emptiness before him.

CMDR. VANESS: Next route is three light-minutes out.

BAIL: (rests his hand on her shoulder) Go to my quarters and have yourself a good night’s sleep. I’ll take it from here.

Yawning, Vaness rises from the seat and leaves the cockpit, allowing the captain to take her place.


Moving out into the freighter’s main corridor, Anakin finds Kathe Naad coming towards him from the right end of the corridor.

KATHE NAAD: (smiles) Hi.

ANAKIN: Hi. We just come out of hyperspace?

KATHE NAAD: Yeah. (beat) This is the last safe leg of the journey, you know. From here we’re off into Wild Space, travelling along routes few have ever travelled, some which haven’t been charted at all. We’re going to be covering new ground; it’s going to be rough, even dangerous.

ANAKIN: Yeah, I know. It’s almost enough to make me want to bail and hitch a ride back to civilization.

KATHE NAAD: Hitch a ride? From here? (grins) I think you’ll be waiting quite awhile with your thumb hanging out before any ship comes this way and finds you.

ANAKIN: Hey, I’m a Jedi. Patience and I are old friends from way back.

KATHE NAAD: (nods) I’m sure.


The Wayward Son returns to hyperspace, leaving the relative safety of the Known Regions of the Galaxy for the uncertain paths of Wild Space.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



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.


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.


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!


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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?


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.


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.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Darth has pushed the motor aside and is now working on what appear to be a pair of mechanical boots. He is busy inserting a microchip into the inner workings of a sole when a bronze protocol ‘droid – Z-6PO – enters the chamber.

Z-6PO: Excuse me, Master Darth.

DARTH: (turns around to look at Z-6PO) Sixpio. What’s happening?

Z-6PO: Master Vader has been unable to reach you on your communicator –

DARTH: (interrupts) I shut it off. I don’t wanna talk to him more than I need to.

Z-6PO: Sir, it’s about your mother.

DARTH: I don’t wanna talk to her, neither.

Z-6PO: (cont’d) Master Darth, please. It’s of the utmost importance.

DARTH: (shrugs) What?

Z-6PO: Your mother has been injured grievously. She has been taken to the medcentre.

DARTH: (alarmed) What!?

Z-6PO: If you would just come with me to see Master Vader ….

But Darth has already left for the medcentre.


Chlorian Vader stands at the observation window, staring through the one-way sheet of transparisteel into the operating room where the surgeon and medical ‘droids attend to the horribly bruised and broken body of his lover. Though the governor often does a solid job keeping his emotions from showing on the surface, this time he fails.

Darth bursts in.


Worried, also panicked, Darth strides right up to the observation window, pressing his hands firmly against the transparisteel as if trying to push himself through it.

DARTH: (voice breaking) What happened?

CHLORIAN VADER: Those damned protesters jumped her – got her as she was leaving through the front gate.

Darth says nothing. He only places his face inside his arm as he begins to cry. Having no words of comfort to offer, Chlorian can only place a reassuring hand on the young boy’s shoulder as he sobs without sound.


The Townowi system in the immediate area surrounding the primary world has changed considerably since we last saw it. Whereas the last time there had been enough ships to blockade one hemisphere of Townowi, now there are so many capital ships in orbit around the planet that they almost form a solid 400,000-kilometre-thick shell around it. The battlemoon stands just outside this sphere of influence, however, a sentinel on watch and on guard.

Emerging from hyperspace, a white Imperator-class Star Destroyer makes its approach towards the battlemoon. Coming to a rest five kilometres away from the station, the Purifier disgorges a Lambda-class shuttle – the CC 161 – from its docking bay. Engines flaring bright with blue-white light, the CC 161 rockets toward the battlemoon.


Sigeu is already waiting in the docking bay when the CC 161 touches down inside.

The boarding ramp opening and lowering, a FIGURE emerges from the ship. Though clad in the exact same uniform as Sigeu, this individual is male.

SGW-0027: Welcome aboard, Officer THX-1138.

THX-1138: Officer SGW-0027, I accept your welcome.


The two clone admirals enter the Overbridge. Climbing the steps to a raised command platform, they gaze out at the lower levels beneath them. Technicians man the computers down in the crew pit; there are about three different faces among the lot of them.

SGW-0027: This is our main command centre. From here we monitor and control the battlemoon’s workstations and datafiles.

THX-1138: On a station this size? All of them?

She nods.

THX-1138: Quite the achievement. Our engineers ought to be commended.

SGW-0027: They won’t be.

THX-1138: They will be. (beat) They will be.


Sigeu and Thex enter the interrogation centre. As she steps over to the weapons rack, he strides up to the inactive containment field. He finds a dried blood spot on the platform.

THX-1138: Tsk.

Reaching up, he pulls the veil hiding his face away. We can now see that he is Human, rather handsome, with a strong chin, straight nose, and eyes that are – in spite of what he is – rather warm. Like all clones, he wears his blond hair in a buzz cut with a barcode across his forehead.

SGW-0027: It’s a crime to hide such a face.

Sigeu removes her niqab. She, too, is Human, with buzz-cut blond hair, intense aquamarine eyes, and full pink lips.

THX-1138: Yours isn’t half-bad, either.

With lightning speed, Sigeu grabs the lightwhip from the rack and strikes at Thex. Just as swiftly, Thex grabs the end of the metal lash before it can contact, holding it fast. Touching the weapon’s stud, Sigeu activates the whip’s energy field. Glowing bright white, the lash begins to burn into Thex’s hand and fingers.

THX-1138: (grimaces) Ahhh …

Bringing out his other hand, he takes hold of the glowing lash and begins to reel Sigeu in towards him. She resists at first, tugging back on the whip, but soon relents. As she’s drawn up close to him, he wrenches the lightwhip out her hands and tosses the weapon aside.

THX-1138: That hurt.

SGW-0027: (grins) You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Grabbing her by the back of her head, Thex thrusts their faces together. Locking lips, they thrust their tongues into their open mouths as they begin to undress.

Since they’re incapable of making love, they do the next best thing. Securing magnetic cuffs around Thex’s wrists and ankles, Sigeu leads him to the containment field platform and activates it, trapping him there. Retrieving the lightwhip, she then goes to work on his back and hindquarters, adding fresh new gashes to the already heavily scarred tissue present.


Exiting the crew quarters, the saboteur makes their way along the main corridor of the Wayward Son until they reach the entrance into the engineering bay.

Slipping inside, the saboteur walks on over to the entrance which leads into the #3 hold. Entering the small hold, they step up to a green metal crate. Bringing out their left wrist, they pull their sleeve up and, peeling off a patch of synth-skin, reveal a small wafer of super-thin electronics attached to the real skin beneath. After several touch-sensitive spots on the wafer are pressed, a hidden compartment near the base of the crate slides opens. Reaching into the compartment, the saboteur pulls out a toolkit along with a brick-sized detonator.

Re-sealing the compartment, the saboteur returns to the engineering bay and crosses over to the hyperdrive access panel. Taking care to make sure no one is around to see them, they open the panel and slip down inside the access tube. Opening the toolkit, the saboteur takes the detonator and begins connecting it to pathways which link the hyperdrive motivator up to the hyperdrive itself.

Time passes and the job of securing the detonator in place is eventually finished. Taking their tools, the saboteur returns them to the toolkit.

SN. ANDUE: (O.C.) Hey, what’s up down there?

Hearing the Falleen’s voice, the saboteur quickly reaches for the blaster pistol holstered to their left thigh. Unholstering the blaster, they make an adjustment to the pistol’s setting, then taking care to hide the weapon against their palm, they climb out of the access tube. Andue, unaware of the danger facing her, casually approaches the saboteur.

SN. ANDUE: (smiles) What were you doing with the hyperdrive? Is there something –

Pressing their advantage, the saboteur moves right up to Andue. Grabbing the Falleen’s queue, the saboteur pulls the reptilian woman’s head back. Quickly bringing out the blaster, the saboteur shoves the barrel right up under Andue’s chin and pulls the trigger. The energy discharged from the pistol is only a stun blast, but at this close range it’s powerful enough to fry the Falleen’s brain.

As Andue collapses to the deck, eyes rolling up in their sockets, body spasming, the saboteur proceeds to take hold of the dead Falleen’s shoulders and drags the corpse over to the hyperdrive access tube. Pushing the body down into the tube, the saboteur then re-seals the access panel. Once that is done, the saboteur departs, leaving the engineering bay as close to clean and spotless as it was before their arrival.


Llomon stands over the balcony rail, peering out through his macrobinoculars at the 662 Gasgar Valley apartment complex which stands on the other side of the street.


The entrance door of the building opens and Siri steps out. Making sure she has her wallet on her, she proceeds to continue on her way down the sidewalk towards the parking garage.


Opening the balcony door, Llomon enters the living area. Mahttoh, seated on the sofa, fingers steepled across his chest and feet propped up on the caf table, turns his dark chocolate eyes away from the Wookiee opera performance currently playing on the holovid display and centres them on his partner.

LLOMON: (in Dosh, subtitled) She just left.

Nodding once silently, the Wookiee picks up a remote control and presses a button, turning the holovid player off at the exact moment before the Wookiee opera singer reaches crescendo.


The door into the darkened apartment slides open and Llomon and Mahttoh, two satchels at hand, sneak inside. Making haste, they reseal the door before anyone can see them and proceed to make their way deeper into the apartment.


We follow the bounty hunters as they make their way room-to-room, planting bugs and miniaturized cameras in various hidden spots.


Entering the kitchen, the bounty hunters step on over to the refrigerator. Taking hold of the unit, they pull it back away from the wall. Reaching into his satchel, Mahttoh then pulls out the last of their bugs; activating it, he steps in the space between the refrigerator and wall and secures it in place to the unit.

LLOMON: (subtitled) That should do it.

Stepping out from behind the refrigerator, the two non-Humans then push the unit back in place.

LLOMON: (nods toward the door; subtitled) We’re done here.

The bounty hunters depart the apartment, leaving no visible trace of their presence behind.


It is a calm, clear evening on the night side of Orron III. The DuQuesne family, currently seated on lounge chairs outside, look up into the night sky of their world. The planet’s three moons have come into perfect alignment, combining their collective light to form a large, brilliant star in the heavens.


With a blur of pseudo-motion, the Wayward Son emerges from hyperspace. The Corellian ship finds itself floating in deep interstellar space, surrounded on all sides by billions of brilliant stars with a distant varicoloured nebula situated in the black firmament to their far right. No worlds or nearby suns are to be found anywhere, however.


Taking one long glance out at the magnificent view of realspace situated beyond the cockpit, Cmdr. Vaness then reaches for the headset comlink secured over her left ear.

CMDR. VANESS: (activates comlink) Dr. Moulin, we have emerged from hyperspace. Could you report to the cockpit to calculate our next hyperroute, please?

The commander receives no response.

CMDR. VANESS: (cont’d) Dr. Moulin, are you there?


Having a need to keep to their daily exercise routine even aboard the Wayward Son, Obi-Wan and Nik have decided to take up jogging through the length of the ship. Currently dressed in their lightest, coolest clothes, they make their way out into the main corridor, passing by Kathe Naad as she makes her way inside towards her quarters.

ANAKIN: (nods to Kathe) Hey, Kathe.

KATHE NAAD: (grins) Hi, Nik.


ANAKIN: (checks his chronometre) So, how long should we go for today? Sixty-nine minutes?

OBI-WAN: Let’s make it an even eighty-six and then we’ll hit the showers.

Just as they get ready to begin their jog, Cmdr. Cody exits the engineering bay. Looking ill at ease and edgy, the man from Concord Dawn hurriedly turns to his right and makes a sprint down the corridor without noticing the pair of Jedi. Exchanging glances, the two Jedi Knights silently agree to follow him.


As Cmdr. Vaness gets ready to leave her seat, Dr. Moulin enters the cockpit and plops down in the co-pilot’s seat.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (calls a star chart up on a computer display) Sorry for the tardiness, Commander. I had to use the facilities.


As the DuQuesnes watch the three aligned moons blaze, a formation of storm clouds – appearing suddenly out of nowhere – begins to coalesce in the sky above them.


Rounding a corner, Cody comes to the hatch leading into the cockpit access corridor. Opening the hatch, the Journeyman Protector dashes inside.


ZOSIME MOULIN: There, I’ve finished charting our course. If we head for the K-type star here (points to a spot on the star chart), we’ll be able to avoid crossing paths with the neutron star and continue on to the C-type star here (points to another spot on the chart). It’s a long route – it’ll add another six hours to our travel time – but it’s safe.

CMDR. VANESS: (sighs) Punch it in.

As the Gungan begins entering the coordinates into the navicomputer, Cmdr. Cody bursts into the cockpit. At a near panic, he pounces upon the two women just as the hyperdrive comes on-line.


Inside the access tube, where the twisted body of Sn. Andue lies cold in unceremonious death, the detonator activates as commands from the hyperdrive motivator are filtered through it.

With a soundless flash of brilliant white light, the detonator explodes.


The cloud formation grows like a cancer, concealing the aligned moons and blotting out their light.


A wound in the fabric of spacetime is torn open, catapulting the Wayward Son deep into hyperspace. The ship accelerated to unfathomable velocities, the very topography of hyperspace has changed around it; the ordinary corridor of swirling blue light is gone, replaced with two planes of writhing blue energy which come together at an ever-receding white horizon. The YT-1300 freighter tumbles end-over-end on an uncontrolled flight through this uncanny landscape toward an unknown destination.


We take a look into the Wayward Son. Moving through the various rooms of the ship, we find everything – crew members, ship’s functions, and the expanding explosion from the ruptured hyperdrive itself – frozen in place, affixed in time.


With a burst of pearlescent light, the Wayward Son returns to realspace. Trailing burning hyperdrive energies from its back end, it careens toward a planet enveloped in sulphur-yellow cloud formations.


Emerging from the thick cloud cover, the Wayward Son finds itself speeding towards the surface of a perfectly flat, dried-up riverbed. The craft banks left, putting it on a slightly more stable course, but that is all the ship has left to give.

Losing altitude, the Wayward Son hits the ground. Plowing into the dry earth, the freighter carves a long trench through it as it skids forward.


With a flash of lightning and a crash of thunder, the heavy storm clouds unload their burden. Large rain drops the colour of fresh blood pelt the ground in a torrential downpour.

Disgusted by the sight and the smell of the red rain, Nemec and Corin quickly leave their lounge chairs and rush into the house. Nashira, on the other hand, cooly and calmly rises to her feet. Raising her open hands to the sky, she slowly looks up, standing in place as rivulets of crimson water run down her face and body.


Anakin lies face-down on the deck while Obi-Wan lies sprawled out on his back. Both are unconscious.


Cmdr. Vaness and Dr. Moulin remain upright in their seats, sparks flying from the damaged controls surrounding them. Though banged up, they managed to secure their restraints before the crash, saving them from serious injury. Cdmr. Cody, on the other hand, lies in a motionless heap against the bulkhead behind them, a bloody wound across his forehead.

Unfastening her restraints, Moulin leaves her seat and crosses over to the motionless Concordian. Bending low, she feels his throat for a pulse.

CMDR. VANESS: (unfastens her own restraints and joins the Gungan) Is he --?

ZOSIME MOULIN: He’s not dead, no – just unconscious. I’d venture he’s suffered a pretty severe concussion.

CMDR. VANESS: (puts her hands under Cody’s armpits) Help me get him up.

With the Gungan’s assistance, Vaness hefts the unconscious Journeyman Protector up to his feet and drags him over to the co-pilot’s seat. Taking care not to jostle him too much, they set him down in it.


As Vaness and Moulin exit the cockpit, they find Nik and Obi-Wan in the access corridor.

CMDR. VANESS: (takes hold of Nik’s shoulder and gives it a shake) Hey, Skywalker – you awake?

Groggily, Anakin comes to.

ANAKIN: What in the Holy’s name just happened?

CMDR. VANESS: (half-smiles) Here I was hoping you’d be the one to tell me.

Regaining consciousness, Obi-Wan sits up with a groan.

OBI-WAN: (rubs his forehead) Ooh, my head. It hasn’t ached this bad since that time we attended the Tenaabi Spirits Festival.

CMDR. VANESS: I don’t like to rush you guys, but we need to check out the rest of the ship. The others may need our help.

The two Jedi acknowledge this with a pair of nods.


As soon as the four step out of into the main corridor, they find it filled with black, greasy smoke, the air heavy with an oppressive heat.

CMDR. VANESS: Oh Lord – the ship’s fuel has caught on fire! (beat) We need to get respirators and extinguishers and get to the others – fast!


They quickly backtrack to the cockpit and strap themselves into respirators, making sure to take up spare respirators and as many fire extinguishers as they can carry back with them.

CMDR. VANESS (points at Cody’s unconscious form) Obi-Wan, you get Cody off the ship. We’ll find the others.


As they return to the corridor and make their way down toward the hatch leading to the boarding ramp, they feel the already-intense heat grow even more palpable as the hairs on most of their bodies begin to singe. At the far end of the corridor, they can see the shadows being cast by the blazing silver inferno which has already consumed the engineering bay and its surrounding areas.

CMDR. VANESS: Bail’s in the #2 hold; I’ll go get him. You guys get off the ship.

ANAKIN: (alarmed) What about the others?! Kathe’s in her quarters! And what about Mal’Akhi and Andue?!

CMDR. VANESS: If they were at the rear of the ship when the hyperdrive went critical, then they’re dead.

ANAKIN: I don’t accept that –

CMDR. VANESS: Feel that heat, Skywalker? We’re not even close to the source and it’s intolerable. There’s no way they could’ve survived.

ANAKIN: I still have to try and get to them!

CMDR. VANESS: (angry) Are you suicidal or just stupid? They’re dead, Skywalker! If we don’t get off this death trap, we’ll be, too!

Anakin grits his teeth, torn between his duty to his comrades and his sense of self-preservation.

OBI-WAN: She’s right, Nik. There’s nothing we can do for them.

ANAKIN: No … no!

OBI-WAN: (irate) Anakin, listen to reason!

Finally, silently, Anakin acquiesces.

KATHE NAAD: (O.C.) I think we’d better get off-ship, guys, before this heat blisters my fair skin.

Hearing Kathe’s voice, they turn to look behind them. There they find the mild-mannered woman moving towards them from up the corridor, a semi-conscious Bail braced against her. She begins to cough violently as the smoke in the air finally reaches unbreathable levels.

ANAKIN: Kathe, you’re alive?! But I saw you returning –

KATHE NAAD: (coughs) I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to take a walk. Capt. Organa and I can both thank the stars for that. Now please – let’s go!


The hatch of the Wayward Son opens and the boarding ramp extends to touch the brown ground. Exiting the demolished, burning ship, the seven surviving team members emerge out into the dry heat of this uncharted desert planet.

OBI-WAN: (to Kathe) Did you see Andue or Mal’Akhi on your way out?

KATHE NAAD: (shakes her head) I’m sorry … I didn’t.

The survivors looks out to their horizons, finding nothing but empty, barren nothingness before them.

ANAKIN: Now what?

CMDR. VANESS: Now we wait for the fire to burn itself out and see what happens from there.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Shmi has been transferred to her own private room, where she lies still beneath the covers of a slim hospital bed. Having suffered severe head trauma, the poor lady has slipped into a deep coma. No longer able to breathe independently, she has had a medical ventilator mask affixed around her nose and mouth.

As Darth sits beside his mother, staring upon her with rapt attention as the sounds of her mechanically filtered inhalations and exhalations reverberate through the small white room, a NURSE opens the door and slips inside. Tall, slender, with blue skin, a pair of long head-tails, and full violet lips, she’s a very beautiful Rutian Twi’lek woman; were she attired in sexier garments than the simple turquoise nurse’s pants, shirt, and cap she wears, she’d definitely turn heads everywhere she went.

LILIN: (smiles) You must be Darth. I’m Nurse Lilin.

DARTH: (frowns) Is something wrong with my mom?

LILIN: I just came in to see how your mother’s doing.

DARTH: The same. (sighs)

Seeing how despondent Darth is, the nurse takes a seat in the chair beside him. When she offers the boy her hand to hold, he takes it.

DARTH: Dr. Suiaz says she suffered a cerebral hemorrhage; her brain burst like a balloon, and now she’s in a coma. (cries) If we could get her into a bacta tank, the doctor says the chances are good she’d recover and wake up. But we can’t get her into a bacta tank ‘cause the supply’s too low and none of the other hospitals want to share their bacta ‘cause they’re low on it, too.

Bawling, Darth turns to Lilin and buries his face into her shoulder. Frowning at his distress, she hugs him, stroking his back to ease his pain.

LILIN: If only we could figure out what’s going on up there … if only we could figure out a way to restore contact with the rest of the Galaxy.

DARTH: This is my fault! Mine! I made her leave! She’d still be okay if I hadn’t upset her and made her go away!

LILIN: Yes, Darth, yes. (beat) And now your mommy’s going to die; your daddy’s going to die; you’re going to die.

Grabbing Darth by the hair, Lilin pulls his head back painfully. The expression of loving concern she wore upon her face is gone, replaced with a contemptuous sneer. As she rises to her feet, Darth begins struggling, kicking and flailing his arms about to free himself of her; in the process he slaps her across the face, knocking her cap off and exposing the black barcode tattooed across her forehead. Incensed, Lilin throws Darth forward upon Shmi’s bed; the comatose woman gives a reflexive jerk as he lands atop her.

Reaching behind her, Lilin pulls something out from the waistband of her pants; it’s a lightsaber hilt of black durasteel – the exact same type used by the Force-adept clone agents of the Athan Supremacy. Thumbing the activation stud, a sterile white blade is triggered with a harsh BUZZ.

LILIN: (grins) Death to the Underman! Long live the New Flesh!

Lilin swings her blade. Darth feels the kiss of hot plasma.


Darth jumping up in his chair, wide awake.

Swiveling his head towards the door, he looks to spy Lilin, but the evil nurse is not in the room. She was just the product of a horrid nightmare borne out of guilt and worry.

Wasn’t she?


Sigeu is at her desk, busy going over paperwork, when Uwe enters.

SGW-0027: Commander. To what do I owe this unanticipated visit?

UIY-2249: A starship was snared coming out of Geonosis.

SGW-0027: It’s been so long since the last one, I’d stopped believing there were any left to come this way.

UIY-2249: Fortunately for the pilot, she decided to resist.

SGW-0027: It sounds almost like you sympathize with her.

UIY-2249: Empathize is a more apt descriptor, Admiral.

SGW-0027: Consider me informed, Commander. You may go.

UIY-2249: Admiral …

SGW-0027: (sighs) You’re still here.

UIY-2249: I’ve noticed the camaraderie you’ve taken up with Officer THX-1138.

SGW-0027: What of it?

UIY-2249: You’ve been dropping in on each other often as of late. It is … rather charming.

SGW-0027: I don’t expect you to know this, Commander, but Officer THX-1138 and I were born in the same creche. We boarded and attended the same conditioning sessions together. We’ve known each other our entire lives and have been close friends for just that long. (beat) You don’t disapprove?

UIY-2249: Friendship is quite within your parametres, Admiral.

Smiling to himself, Uwe leaves Sigeu.


SGW-0027: He knows about us.

THX-1138: He’s a typical UIY model, then.

SGW-0027: Don’t make light of this, Thex. This isn’t something to make light of. He’s shrewd. He’s the most shrewd, motherless kaj I’ve had the misfortune of knowing.

THX-1138: I have a UIY model as my own second, Sigeu; I’m familiar with their idiosyncrasies. They experience no strong emotion – no rage, no bursts of joy, no spontaneity, no animosity; it’s what allows them to perform so well under pressure, what makes them such outstanding commanders, and makes them so thoroughly predictable. (beat) He may know something about our relationship, but so far as it doesn’t compromise our performance, he won’t report us – certainly not without evidence to corroborate his claim.

SGW-0027: Thex, our kind aren’t allowed to grow this close.

THX-1138: (contemptuous) And that’s why we’re forced to wear the veils, why we’ve been sterilized.

SGW-0027: So how can you remain so cavalier?

THX-1138: Tyrants don’t care if their subjects disobey the letter of their law so long as its spirit is kept. (beat) If a romance is incapable of bringing forth fruit, it’s beneath their notice.


Beneath the shade of the wrecked ship, Obi-Wan, Bail, and Moulin sit around Cmdr. Jango Cody. Several hours have passed since the crash, and the Journeyman Protector remains unconscious, his body laid out prone atop a scavenged stretcher.

At that moment, Vaness, Anakin, and Kathe emerge from the Wayward Son, each weighed down with as many full knapsacks as they can carry. Coming to the makeshift camp, they unload their burden before the others.

CMDR. VANESS: This is all we could salvage. (beat) We have enough food for a week – maybe a little more than a week. Our water might last half that.

ZOSIME MOULIN: Cmdr. Cody was right; we should have conserved our supplies.

ANAKIN: Speaking of the devil, has our sleeping beauty stirred at all since we went inside?

BAIL: (shakes his head) Not a muscle.

OBI-WAN: (looks up into the sky) Judging by the encroaching darkness, I’d say the sun or suns are going down. If there’s any civilization to be found – any food or water – we’d best start searching for it now while it’s cool enough to travel.

KATHE NAAD: What’ll we do for weapons? Your lightsabers were lost in the fire and none of us have extra power packs for our blasters once they run out of charge. There could be dangerous creatures out there.

VANESS: We’ll fashion makeshift knives and spears out of the wreckage and pray there’s nothing on this planet tougher than that.

BAIL: Do it. (stands up) Skywalker – you, Moulin, and Naad handle the supplies. Raia, once you’re finished making the weapons, take lead. Obi-Wan and I’ll handle Cody. (beat) As soon as we’re ready, we’re leaving.


Sitting in their apartment, the Trandoshan and Wookiee go over several hours worth of recorded surveillance footage and transmissions taken from Obi and Siri’s apartment. Though their non-human faces are hard to read, they are intensely frustrated.

MAHTTOH: (in Shyriiwook, subtitled) It’s been over a week since we bugged the apartment. Kenobi hasn’t once shown up or made a transmission, and she hasn’t made any transmissions to him. (beat) This is hopeless!

LLOMON: (in Dosh, subtitled) Hopeless? No. We’ve just reached the limit of what surveillance alone can teach us. If we’re to learn where the husband is, we’re going to have to ask the wife. (stands up) We’re going back to the Ryyk. Once we’ve suited up, we’re going to pay Siri Tachi a house call.


Siri and ‘Chi are decked out on the couch, watching cartoons on the holovid display, when the front door opens and Master Windu and Mistress Gallia step inside.

UZOCHI: (ecstatic) Mommy! Daddy!

Bolting off the couch, the little boy runs to his parents, seizing Gallia’s leg in a vice-like grip. The two are as happy to see their son as he is to see them.

MACE WINDU: (grins) Hello, little man. How’s your day been?

UZOCHI: Great! Me and Siri’s been watching Bungo ‘n’ Rusti!

Leaving the couch, Siri approaches the two Jedi masters and their child.

SIRI: You’re home early.

ADI GALLIA: It was unusually slow in the council chambers today. We were able to call it a night early. (to ‘Chi) Now we can spend some time with our special little man, can’t we?

MACE WINDU: What would you like us to do, ‘Chi? The choice is yours.

UZOCHI: (thinks it over) Ice cream?

MACE WINDU: (laughs) No problem. (to Siri) Would you care to join us? You’re more than welcome.

SIRI: (shakes her head) This is your time. Spend it together as a family.

The Jedi masters choose to accept that answer.

SIRI: (to Uzochi) I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?

UZOCHI: Okay. Bye, Siri.

Smiling, Siri gives the boy a rub on the head.


Stepping out of the turbolift, Siri makes her way to her apartment door. Unlocking it, she opens it and takes a step inside.


As soon as she closes the door and moves to turn the lights on, Siri freezes, suddenly apprehensive for an unknown but all too palpable reason. Reaching for her lightsaber, she pulls it from her belt.

Suddenly, a large metal net unfurls from the darkness. Catching Siri, it forces her back against the door, holding her in place as a stun charge begins coursing through the mesh. Gritting her teeth against the shocking pain, she triggers her lightsaber. With a SNAP-HISS, the brilliant yellow blade of her lightsaber springs to life, burning through the mesh of the net and disrupting the charge.

As the Jedi slices through the net, freeing herself, her assailants emerge from the shadows, revealing themselves to be Llomon and Mahttoh. Dressed head-to-toe in identical suits of brown body armour, the bounty hunters wield a vibroaxe and vibrosword, respectively.

With a growl, Mahttoh springs forward, swinging his blade at Siri’s exposed neck. Ducking, the Jedi then somersaults, bringing her legs up to deliver a kick to the Wookiee’s face. Grunting as broken teeth fly, he stumbles backward, tripping over himself and hitting the floor.

Springing back to her feet, Siri turns on Llomon. Grinning, he brings up the blade of his vibroaxe as she brings down her lightsaber; the vibrating axe-head, forged from phrik alloy, easily blocks the yellow plasma blade.

Coming back into the fray, Mahttoh brings his lanvarok into alignment and fires off a razor-edged disc. The disc grazes Siri’s leg, distracting her long enough for the Trandoshan to backhand her, sending the Jedi Knight reeling. She recollects herself just in time to parry the Wookiee’s vibrosword, which is also crafted from lightsaber-resistant phrik alloy. Llomon charges, swinging his vibroaxe, but Siri leaps up, evading the deadly blade. Somersaulting over Mahttoh’s head, she stabs backward with her lightsaber, hoping to skewer the Wookiee on the blade. As the plasma blade makes contact with his cortosis armour, however, it shorts out, rendering it inactive. Grinning, Mahttoh unsheathes the claws of his right hand and racks them against Siri’s sword arm. Crying out in agony, she drops her disabled weapon.

Clutching her bleeding arm, Siri staggers back, putting as much distance between her and the two bounty hunters as she can. Dauntless, the pair of hunters advance.

SIRI: (grimacing) Who are you?

LLOMON: Who we are isn’t important. What we want is the question you should be asking.

SIRI: What do you want then?!

Moving in close to Siri, Llomon brings the blade of his vibroaxe up to her throat until they’re almost touching.

LLOMON: Kenobi.

SIRI: He’s been called back to the front. He won’t return home for months.

LLOMON: That’s too bad – for you.

Taking his axe away from her her throat, Llomon swings it on a downward arc to cleave her in twain. Bringing up her hands, Siri manages to seize hold of the weapon’s shaft before it can connect. Gritting her teeth, she wrestles with the Trandoshan for control of the blade. Bringing up his lanvarok, Mahttoh prepares to fire off another razor disc, this time to finish the Jedi off.

At that very moment, the front door opens and Mace Windu, lightsaber in hand with blue blade engaged, steps inside. Surprised, the two non-Humans freeze momentarily, stopping to evaluate this new arrival.

MACE WINDU: I’m sorry – did I break your concentration?

Taking his lanvarok off Siri, Mahttoh trains it on Windu, firing off a volley of discs. With a flurry of movement, the Jedi master intercepts each and every disc, slicing them apart with his blue blade as he advances on the Wookiee. Lowering his lanvarok, Mahttoh hefts up his sword.

As the Jedi master and Wookiee bounty hunter cross blades, Siri sends her heel down on one of the Trandoshan’s feet. Unleashing a roar of agony, he loses hold of the vibroaxe. Exploiting her newfound advantage, she brings the shaft of the axe up into Llomon’s chin, snapping his head back and throwing him off balance. Hitting the floor, the Trandoshan seizes Siri’s fallen lightsaber, engaging the yellow blade just in time to block Siri’s blow as she brings the vibroaxe down on his face.

SIRI: (to Windu) Watch out for the armour!

Bringing his lightsaber around in a downward arc, Windu tries slicing through the Wookiee’s wrists. Upon making contact with one of the cortosis gauntlets, however, the blade winks out.

MACE WINDU: (stares at the inactive hilt) Point taken.

Windu ducks as Mahttoh goes for his face with his claws, following it through with a roundhouse kick to the Wookiee’s armoured chest. Thrown backward, Mahttoh hits the living area picture window, shattering it with a resounding CRASH. Falling through, Mahttoh releases a bloodcurdling HOWL as he takes the long plummet to the ground far below.

LLOMON: (horrified) Mahttoh!

Distracted, Llomon fails to intercept Siri as she brings the vibroaxe down on the unarmoured joint of his right arm, slicing clean through the flesh and bone. He clutches the gaping wound with a SHRIEK, desperately squeezing to staunch the flow of blood. Now standing defenseless before the Jedi Knights, the Trandoshan’s only route of escape lies through the broken picture window.

MACE WINDU: (re-engages his lightsaber) You have lost. Stand down.

Spitting at the Jedi with contempt, Llomon turns on his left and bolts for the broken window. Before the Jedi can stop him, he leaps through, unholstering a grappling gun and shooting off a line as he disappears from view.

Deactivating and discarding the vibroaxe, Siri retrieves her lightsaber from the grip of the Trandoshan’s severed hand as she joins Windu by the shattered window.

MACE WINDU: Who were they?

SIRI: Haven’t a clue. They came for Ben. I’ve no idea why. (beat) I’m just fortunate you happened to be in the neighbourhood. I thought you and Mistress Gallia were taking ‘Chi out for ice cream.

Reaching into his tunic, Windu pulls out a slim synth-leather object.

MACE WINDU: You left your wallet behind.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



The survivors of the Wayward Son march on, sluggish and weary from over a week of nigh-endless exertion under the planet’s unyielding dry heat.

Lids heavy, Moulin uncaps her canteen and raises it to her long, cracked lips. When her tongue is met with no water, she taps the bottom of the canteen, but nothing comes forth.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (returns the empty canteen to her belt) Well, that’s that; I’m dry.

KATHE NAAD: (offers her her own canteen) Here, have some of mine.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (raises her hands) I couldn’t.

KATHE NAAD: Please. I can do with less water than you.

Tentatively, the amphibian takes the young woman’s canteen. Uncapping it, she takes a short sip.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (returns the canteen to Kathe) Thank you.

CMDR. VANESS: (halts) Stop.

At the commander’s order, the others come to a sudden halt. Before them, almost unnoticeable from their angle of observation, the river bed comes to an abrupt end, transitioning into a vertical drop in the rock which stretches several metres. Most likely a high waterfall at some point in this world’s history, it – along with the rest of the landscape – dried up a long time ago.

With Obi-Wan’s assistance, Bail lowers Cody’s stretcher. He then joins his second-in-command at the drop.

BAIL: (looks over the drop) It goes down a ways. (beat) It looks too steep to climb down.

KATHE NAAD: We managed to salvage line from the wreck.

BAIL: Let’s have it.

Lowering their packs, Anakin, Kathe, and Moulin begin fishing around inside in search of the line. The Gungan soon finds the bundle of line in one of hers. Striding over to the captain and commander, she presents it to them.

BAIL: It might not be long enough.

ANAKIN: (points at something in the distance) What’s that way over there?

Following his finger, Bail and Vaness find, past the dried-up waterfall, far away but not beyond walking distance, a large mass rising out of the otherwise flat terrain. Pulling out her pair of electrobinoculars, Vaness takes a look.


Through the electrobinoculars, we can see that the mass is no natural formation. Though fine details still cannot be made out, it is clearly a ziggurat, consisting of two levels with a prominent ramp leading to the first and a stairway leading to the second.


Vaness handing the electrobinoculars to Bail.

VANESS: It’s a ziggurat.

BAIL: (looks through the electrobinoculars) Well, this world’s not as empty as we were led to believe.

VANESS: There’re no other traces of civilization, Bail. No agriculture; no other buildings; definitely no sign of people. It looks as dead as everything else we’ve seen.

BAIL: You may be right. Regardless, there still may be something of value inside. I’m game to find out if you are.

VANESS: (shrugs) I’m game.

BAIL: Alright. (to the others) We’ll rest here ‘til sundown. We have a long trek ahead of us come nightfall.


Later that day, after the sun(s) have lowered, colouring the sky the dim blue-gray of twilight.

The line has been secured to an outcropping of rock; Vaness and Anakin are already making their way down the old waterfall.

OBI-WAN: I don’t believe it’s wise to take Cody along with us. We don’t know how grievous his injuries are; we could do him serious harm if we tried lowering him down the line.

BAIL: Then one of us is going to have to stay behind to keep a watch over him.

KATHE NAAD: I’ll do it.

ZOSIME MOULIN: If you don’t mind, Captain, I’d like to stay, too. We haven’t run up against any dangers so far, but if that were to change, it’d be better for there to be two around to protect the commander than one.

BAIL: (nods) Very well. We’ll leave you some extra water and a comlink. Contact us if his condition changes at all.

Moulin nods once in acknowledgement.


Bail, Vaness, Obi-Wan, and Nik as they lower themselves down the line centimetre-by-centimetre. Moulin and Naad, back on top with the unconscious Cmdr. Cody, watch them make their descent.

Soon they come to the end of the line. Letting go, they fall a short but safe distance to the bottom.


Bail, Vaness, Obi, and Anakin spend the next several hours hiking through the desolate landscape towards the mysterious ziggurat.


The team of four finally arrives at the ziggurat. Up close, it can now be seen that the magnificent edifice has been wrought out of large red granite blocks, each expertly cut and fitted without the use of mortar. Thousands of years old, the construct has remained remarkably intact, having suffered little damage from the harsh environ.

In awe of the ancient ziggurat, the travellers ascend the long ramp leading up into the structure.


The four Humans pass through the open entrance into the gallery beyond. Phosphorescent pigments applied to the runes carved in the walls afford the passage a natural illumination. Lining the walls at regular intervals between the runic inscriptions are several tall statues, each carved in the likeness of humanoid beings, some with plaited beards, all with strange tusk-like protrusions erupting from their cheeks. Obi-Wan halts at the sight of these statues, an immediate recognition setting in.

OBI-WAN: Heavens ….

BAIL: What?

OBI-WAN: This is a Sith temple.

BAIL: (confused) Sith?

CMDR. VANESS: Don’t you know your history, Bail? The Sith were a cult; the dark Jedi Exar Kun created them four-thousand years ago.

Stepping up to one of the statues, Obi examines it closely.

OBI-WAN: No. This is a creation of the original Sith, a race which reigned in their own region of space in the thousands of years before Kun.

BAIL: These Sith, they’re bad news?

OBI-WAN: They were once – long, long ago. (beat) They’re extinct now.

Leaving the statue, Obi-Wan continues down the gallery. The others follow after.


The Humans emerge into the burial chamber. A large, conical chamber, twelve panels line the walls, each engraved with murals depicting the personal history of the chamber’s lone inhabitant. In the centre of the chamber, bathed in rainbow light falling through a prismatic skylight set in the distant ceiling above, is a sarcophagus of white jade, the life-like effigy of an attractive Sith woman chiselled into the lid.

ANAKIN: (shivers) Frigid in here.

The others, including Obi, look on the Jedi apprentice strangely.

ANAKIN: (rubs his arms) Don’t you feel it?

OBI-WAN: I don’t feel anything.

CMDR. VANESS: It’s no cooler in here than it is out there.

ANAKIN: It’s got to be 10° in here. How can you not feel it?

CMDR. VANESS: It’s just this place. It gives me the willies, too.

Leaving the others, Anakin approaches the sarcophagus. Examining the serene, sleeping face engraved on the sarcophagus lid, he then places a hand upon the effigy’s carved hands.

ANAKIN: (snatches his hand back) OW!

OBI-WAN: (takes a step forward; concerned) What?!

ANAKIN: (holds his afflicted hand) It’s ice cold!

Striding over to the sarcophagus, Obi rests his own hand on it; he feels nothing out of the ordinary.

BAIL: Let’s go. There’s nothing here for us.

Bail heads off, the others following suit. Anakin dallies momentarily, giving the sarcophagus one last look before leaving with the rest.


Having emerged from the burial chamber, the four work their way up the staircase to the second level of the ziggurat. There they find another entrance leading into yet another chamber.


Entering this second chamber, the ersatz explorers are greeted with a magnificent sight. Countless dozens of chests and urns – all containing precious gems, metal trinkets, and other valuable items – line the walls in several columns, all surrounding a beautiful Sith yacht. Onyx-black and inlaid with red jasper trim, the sensual organic contours of the ship look less the product of an automated assembly line and more the exquisite masterpiece of a peerless artisan.

ANAKIN: (whistles) That is one gorgeous ship!

Slowly, almost as if in supplication, they approach the Sith yacht.

BAIL: (runs his hand along the side of the ship) Amazing! It feels almost liquid!

OBI-WAN: Dark though the Sith were, it is hard not to be held in awe by their works. They were master craftsmen; art was a religion to them and they applied it to all walks of their lives.

CMDR. VANESS: It is a magnificent ship – too magnificent. (beat) There’s treasure in the top floor, a jade sarcophagus in the bottom; between the two, there’s a fair bit to steal; why isn’t this entire complex locked down tight?

OBI-WAN: Perhaps the builders were aware of their world’s fate and concluded that larceny wasn’t a problem that would have to be dealt with.

Wandering over to one of the chests, Nik flings the lid open.

ANAKIN: (grins) Guys, you’re not going to believe what’s here.

The other three join him. Peering inside, they see just what it is that the apprentice has found.

BAIL: Food.

ANAKIN: Carbon-frozen food, as fresh as the day it was sealed.

CMDR. VANESS: (ecstatic) When the Sith pack a lunch for the afterlife, they sure pack it tight, don’t they?

Moving to another chest, Anakin flings it open, then moves over to yet another chest and flings it open; in both is more carbon-frozen food and water.

ANAKIN: There’s a month’s worth of food in these crates alone!

BAIL: We’ll take one back with us when we leave.

CMDR. VANESS: We should try getting aboard the ship. We can’t fly it out of here, but there may still be enough juice in its onboard systems to broadcast an SOS.

BAIL: (nods) Let’s do it.


Having figured out how to open the entry hatch, they climb inside the cozy ship. As with the exterior, the interior is crafted along organic lines. Crossing over to the controls, they don’t find the usual switches or buttons but an array of control crystals, all embedded into the panel.

CMDR. VANESS: (frowns; to Obi-Wan) Do you know how to operate these controls? I certainly don’t.

OBI-WAN: (scrutinizes the control crystals) I’m not familiar with them, no, but most Sith technology was reputed to be Force-based; if these crystals are at all attuned to the Force, I may be able to intuit their function.

Positioning his hands over the crystals, Obi-Wan closes his eyes. Several moments pass, then he begins – with much concentration and consideration – to lay his hands down on the crystals, touching a select few of them in a non-random order. Once he has completed the sequence, those crystals which have been touched begin to resonate with a throbbing glow.

OBI-WAN: There – it’s done.

Grinning, Vaness takes Obi by the shoulders, spins him around, and plants a firm kiss on his lips.

CMDR. VANESS: If I wasn’t spoken for, I’d award you more than a kiss.

Try as he might, the knight can’t keep himself from blushing.


With one of the chests of food and drink held between the four of them, Obi, Nik, Vaness, and Bail descend the ramp, en-route back to their three companions waiting by the drop.


Back inside the burial chamber, all is still and quiet. Suddenly, the twelve muraled panels on the walls begin to retract into the ceiling, revealing hidden compartments behind them.

As a heavy mist begins to billow out from the dark openings, a LARGE YELLOW HAND BEARING THREE LARGE BLACK CLAWS reaches out from one of them.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



The members of the typical Condawni family are nowhere to be seen. Their living area lies in disarray as a news telecast plays on the holovid display in front of their empty sofa.

The newscaster – dirty and disheveled – relays the disturbing news that supplies of food have all but run out and people across the provinces are resorting to cannibalism to stay alive. Large “food gangs” have amassed and begun prowling the streets, on the hunt for anything – any_one_ – they can kill for food. In fear of the savages marauding topside, many of the Geonosians living beneath the surface of the planet have either blocked the access tunnels leading down into their subterranean cities or pre-emptively struck back, coming topside in swarms to eradicate the non-Geonosians living in close proximity to their underground domains.


Chlorian Vader, the LIEUTENANT GOVERNOR, the OTHER GOVERNMENT OFFICIALS of Condawn province, and VARIOUS OTHER FIGURES who maintain Capitol Centre sit around a rectangular conference table. Their discussion boils down to this: Though the Centre is a veritable fortress – protecting everyone inside from everyone outside – they have no food and are going to starve to death unless they take the chance to venture out beyond the gates in search of new sustenance. They argue about the feasibility of this proposal; many bring up the unwelcome fact that being as few in number as they are, with little in the way of weaponry and no armoured vehicles to protect them, they won’t last long once off Centre grounds.

When it seems no one has any good idea on how to proceed, someone makes mention of an underground escape tunnel built beneath the Centre which leads out into the wilderness beyond Condawn City. Though the open desert will be cold, with it being summer, the temperatures should be within a tolerable range. The wildlife should also be plentiful enough to sustain them the next few months.

Chlorian decides that the escape tunnel is the best option available. Rising from his chair, he tells everyone to get to their loved ones, to their employees, and inform them to prepare for departure immediately.


Darth enters his mother’s room. She is as still and silent as ever, eyes closed in a dreamless sleep over the ventilator mask which rhythmically breathes for her.

Crossing over to his usual chair, Darth holds up a datapad.

DARTH: Hey, Mom. I thought I’d read you something new. It’s The Maverick Moon. Remember how you used to read it to me when I was little? I thought you might like me to read it to you.

Sitting down, Darth calls the story up on his hand-held device.

DARTH: In another time, in a faraway galaxy, there lived a young man named Deak Starkiller. He was a student at the New Academy for Space Pilots, and already he was one of the best young pilots in the solar system. (beat) Deak and his classmates, the Planetary Pioneers, were training for a special mission. They were going to fly young men and women – the smartest and strongest and most talented – to uninhabited planets. There they would help build new colonies, founded on peace, justice, and good will toward their fellow members of the galaxy. (beat) One morning Deak raced toward the Academy at breakneck speed. His good friend Princess Zara Antilles was coming to visit the Academy. Deak wanted to be there when she arrived so he could show her some of the Pioneers’ exciting plans. (beat) When Deak reached the Academy, he hopped out of his landspeeder. Some of his friends waved or called good morning. All of them smiled. They knew why Deak was in such a hurry. Princess Zara had arrived. Although she was one of the youngest members of the intergalactic government, she was well known to everyone. (beat) Deak proudly showed Zara around the Academy. He told her about the work of the Planetary Pioneers. “Some of us will be building homes and schools and power stations,” he said. “Right now we are planning to use our powerful zukonium rays in the power stations. Instead of being used for war or destruction, zukonium will provide energy for our colonies.” “It sounds terrific, Deak,” said Zara.

Darth stops, the story calling up near-forgotten memories of when he was younger, before he started going to school and getting into trouble, a still-innocent child who hadn’t yet learned to read on his own. Biting his lip, he tries to stifle the tears he feels coming but cannot.

At that very moment, Shmi’s eyes open. Cloudy at first, they quickly clear as they focus in upon Darth.


Slowly, Shmi raises her arm, hand trembling as she reaches for her son. He quickly takes it in both hands, squeezing and stroking it to let her know that he’s here, that he cares.

DARTH: Mom! Oh God, Mom! It’s me, Mom – Darth! You’re okay, right? You’re gonna be okay!

But she isn’t going to be okay. Her eyes, momentarily alert, filled with unconditional love for her son, roll up into her head as she goes into a violent, full-body seizure.

The alarm on her monitor goes off and medics quickly rush in to administer aid. Screaming at the top of his lungs that he won’t leave her and will kill anyone who tries to separate him from her, Darth strives to hang on to Shmi, but the adults pull him away and drag him kicking out of the room.


As another day draws to a close, Kathe Naad stands crouched down on one knee over the dead waterfall, looking out to the ziggurat far in the distance; she can see the four travellers returning from the Sith edifice with chest in tow. Face unreadable, her eyes tell a different tale: one of uncertainty and perhaps even distaste.

Away from her, Zosime Moulin sits on the ground beside the reclining Jango Cody. Immersed in her own thoughts, she doesn’t notice Cody regain consciousness until she turns on a whim, finding him already sitting up.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (Startled) WHA! (beat) Commander! I … I’m …

CMDR. CODY: (hoarse) Water.

Still unnerved, the doctor scrambles about until she finds herself a canteen. Taking the canteen from her, the Journeyman Protector gulps down what little water’s left at the bottom. Unsatisfied, he frowns deeply.

ZOSIME MOULIN: I’m sorry, Commander, but we’re short on water. You just drank the last of it, actually.

CMDR. CODY: (looks about) Where are we? Where’re the others?

ZOSIME MOULIN: I wish I could answer that first question, Commander, but I’m afraid I don’t know where we are. Something went wrong with the Son’s hyperdrive – an explosion – catapulting us … here. (beat) We spotted what looks like a ziggurat the other day, over in that direction. (points toward the ziggurat) The captain, Vaness, and the Jedi went off to find anything of value. They’ve been gone since then.

CMDR. CODY: Mal’Akhi?

ZOSIME MOULIN: (looks down) Dead along with Andue in the accident.

CMDR. CODY: (leans in close to the Gungan) Doctor, that accident wasn’t an accident.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (frowns) No accident?

CMDR. CODY: It was a deliberate act of sabotage. I know because I saw the saboteur; I saw her in the engineering bay before we jumped back to lhyt-speed; I found what she left of Andue in the hyperdrive access tunnel; I found the hyperdrive wired to explode. I tried to warn you – stop you – but you’d already made the jump.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (horrified) One of us did this? Who!? Who was it?!

KATHE NAAD: (O.C.) It was me.

Hearing Naad’s voice so near to them, the Journeyman Protector and Gungan turn their heads, finding the young Human woman standing right over them. In her left hand, inactive but held at the ready, is Obi-Wan’s lightsaber.

ZOSIME MOULIN: (incredulous) Kathe!?

KATHE NAAD: I hoped to spare you this. I’m sorry.

As Kathe triggers the azure blade, Cody is already moving, rolling clear of the saber’s range, but for Zosime, it is too late; with a single broad sweep of the Jedi weapon, Naad clears the Gungan’s head from her body.

The Gungan dispatched, Naad turns her attention on Cody. But even unarmed, the Journeyman Protector’s military background gives him an edge over the untrained woman. Seizing both her wrists and pushing the glowing blue blade away from him, he knees her in the side, forcing her hands open. The inactive hilt falls, hits the hard-packed ground, and the commander makes a dive for it. Furious, the woman dives after him. Their hands both locking around the lightsaber, they begin struggling over it.


Coming to the length of line dangling overhead, the four stop, crouching down to lower their chest of foodstuffs to the ground.

ANAKIN: (rubs his hands together) I don’t think we can haul the chest up there.

BAIL: We’ll thaw and take up what we can carry with us.


Cody and Naad, still wrestling about the ground for Obi-Wan’s saber.


The four travellers as they shimmy up the line.


Naad as she goes to bite Cody’s throat.


The four travellers as they continue shimmying up the line.


Cody as he headbutts Naad, forcing her off him, winning him the Jedi weapon.

Rolling away from Naad, he springs to his feet. With a SNAP-HISS, he engages the azure plasma blade.


Coming up over the edge, the quartet finds Cody and Naad standing there staring each other down, Obi’s lit lightsaber in the Journeyman Protector’s hands.

BAIL: (nonplussed) What the hell is this?!

Hearing the captain’s voice, both combatants swivel their heads in his direction.

KATHE NAAD: (points at Cody) He’s had your lightsaber, Obi. He stole it from your quarters and he’s had it on him this whole time! He was faking unconsciousness, and when he was ready, he attacked us! (points at Moulin’s remains) He killed Zosime – chopped her head off!

CMDR. CODY: She’s lying! Don’t listen to her!

KATHE NAAD: And the explosion? The crash? It was him! He did it! He sabotaged the Son’s hyperdrive! He stranded us on this forsaken rock! He’s a spy for the Clonemasters! He did it all for them!

CMDR. CODY: (outraged) Never! I’d never side with the vatheads!

BAIL: (unholsters his blaster) Commander, stand down.

CMDR. CODY: (angry) Captain, you know me! You know what happened on Concord Dawn – what happened to my family, my wife! You know!

BAIL: (levels his blaster at Cody) Yes, I know what happened to Jango Cody on Concord Dawn.

CMDR. CODY: (incredulous) What happened to Jang --! (beat) I am Jango!

BAIL: I don’t know that.

CMDR. CODY: I’m not a clone!

BAIL: Hand me the saber and we’ll talk about it.

Speechless, Cmdr. Cody is left with no alternative. Disengaging the lightsaber, he hands it to Bail. Bail – never taking his eyes off the Journeyman Protector for a moment – hands the hilt back to Obi-Wan.

BAIL: Raia, secure him.

Taking a length of line, Cmdr. Vaness moves in behind Cody, pulling his hands behind him and tying them fast together.

CMDR. CODY: (nods to Naad) What of her? Search her, search the bags; she may have taken the boy’s weapon as well. If you find it, you’ll know I’m telling the truth.

As Anakin moves in behind Naad and begins patting her down for hidden weapons, Obi-Wan begins looking through the knapsacks.

ANAKIN: (finishes frisking) She’s clean.

OBI-WAN: (finishes searching the knapsacks) Anakin’s lightsaber isn’t here.

BAIL: (sighs; to Cody) Well, Commander, that avenue’s out.

Cmdr. Cody responds with a harsh Concordian curse.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.


I’d just like to state for the record that I absolutely hate writing the Geonosis scenes.

I had fun writing the first Bart Simpson-esque scene with Darth running from the cops, but each and every scene after has been a progressively harder and unenjoyable chore to work through. If I didn’t feel I had to include them to help add depth to this screenplay and establish a springboard for my Episode III re-write, I’d chuck them altogether.

If only the damn Geonosis scenes could write themselves, allowing me to concentrate on writing the stuff which does stimulate my interest and get the creative juices flowing. Alas …

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.


Due to my aforementioned dearth of love for the Geonosis scenes, I’ve decided to go the outline route with further scenes set on that planet; I’ll just provide rough descriptions of the locations/actions/dialogue/etc. and dispense with all the needless elaboration which only tires and bores me. If I absolutely need to go into detail on those points for the sake of character/story development, then of course I will make exceptions in their case. Otherwise, I’m putting no more effort into the Geonosis parts of the story.

And before I forget to mention this: I changed Petra Antilles’ last name to “Andue”.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



Doctors, nurses, and patients are hurriedly leaving the medcentre for the escape tunnel.

Summoned to the medcentre, Chlorian finds a doctor sitting with Darth; the boy is catatonic.

Rising from his chair, the doctor takes Chlorian out of earshot of Darth and tells the governor that Shmi died of a stroke. Chlorian goes into shocked silence for a moment, unable to believe what he is hearing. Chlorian then tells the doctor to take Darth and join the others gathering at the tunnel entrance, that he will personally take care of Shmi’s body.


Chlorian enters an empty meat locker, the still form of Shmi’s body held in his arms. Opening a secret compartment beneath the floor, he gives his final farewells to the dead woman, kisses her forehead, then seals her within the makeshift tomb.


The DENIZENS of the Capitol Centre – all 400+ of them – have come to the warehouse, gathered around a large turbolift platform which will take them below-ground.

Entering, Chlorian goes to the head of the crowd. Addressing them, he tells them to make sure no one is missing and to leave behind any non-essential belongings.

The first group of escapees climb aboard the turbolift platform and are lowered down into the escape tunnel.


Night has fallen. Cody remains tied up, seated upon the ground, his back against a large boulder. For the others, all but Vaness and Kathe have fallen asleep, dead-tired from all the activity of the last couple days.

Vaness sits there in the space between Cody and Naad, legs crossed, hands in her lap, eyes on the Journeyman Protector and cryptographer both. Vaness is only Human, however, and she, too, is exhausted; it is only a matter of time before her resolve fails her and she joins her companions in slumber.

Her eyelids heavy, Vaness slowly blinks, then closes them for good. Kathe waits; once she is certain the commander is asleep, she slowly rises to her feet. Straightening her neck, she tilts her head back and opens her mouth; gagging silently, she slowly regurgitates a solid metal cylinder – Anakin’s lightsaber. Taking the Jedi apprentice’s weapon into her hand, she approaches the restrained Journeyman Protector. Cody, eyes hard on her, doesn’t say a word.

KATHE NAAD: Aren’t you going to call out to the others?

CMDR. CODY: (looks over Naad’s shoulder) No need.

Following his gaze, Naad turns around. Standing behind her, wide awake and none too happy, is Anakin. Bringing the hilt up, the woman swings it to bash the Jedi’s head in, but he catches her wrist and pulls the saber out of her grasp. Lunging forward, she sinks her teeth into his wrist.


Acting on reflex, Anakin loses his hold on her wrist. Turning on her heel, Naad dashes off into the night. Scowling, he takes off after her.


Naad running madly through the darkness, desperate to escape the Jedi Knight. Initially running high on a rush of adrenaline, she soon begins to exhaust her stamina. Her speed drops and she comes to an abrupt halt. Breathing heavily, she rests her hands upon her knees for support.

Catching up to Naad, Anakin comes to a stop. There’s no sign of weariness in his stance whatsoever.

ANAKIN: No more games, Kathe. It’s over.

Still out of breath, Kathe doesn’t answer. Taking her silence for surrender, the apprentice takes hold of her arm. Before he can leave with Naad in tow, he halts, eyes widening in sudden alarm.

In the featureless darkness before them, like burning embers suspended in the ether, are six pairs of glowing yellow eyes.

Releasing his hold on Naad, Anakin engages his lightsaber. Blazing bright, the cyan light reveals SIX RAKGHOULS standing there before the two Humans. Hulking yellow humanoids, the rakghouls have two vertically arranged slits for nostrils high up on their faces; black spines growing out of their backs and heads; twelve sharp claws each growing out of their hands and feet; and large, wide maws filled with sharp, jagged teeth.

ANAKIN: Kathe – behind me!

Kathe isn’t fast enough. Lunging forward, one of the rakghouls takes hold of her. Drawing the woman in close, it pulls out her arm and bites down, shearing through the cloth, skin, muscle, and tendon above her elbow.


Grinding its teeth back and forth, the rakghoul saws through her arm. As the bone gives way, Kathe collapses, SCREAMING as blood jets from the ragged stump.


The others at the camp. Already wide awake, they hear Kathe’s shrieks in the distance. Taking up their weapons, Obi-Wan and Bail break off into a run. Vaness, freeing Cmdr. Cody of his bonds, takes up her own spear and runs off to join them.


Anakin as he attacks the rakghoul who took Naad’s arm. Striking with his lightsaber, he bisects the monster through the shoulder, killing it with the gnawed arm still in its jaws.

Two other rakghouls quickly make their move. One slams its balled fists down on the Jedi’s back, knocking him flat to the ground, while the other goes for Kathe, grabbing her legs.

Arriving on the scene, Bail and Obi leap to the Jedi and cryptographer’s defense. Hefting up his spear, Bail hurtles it at Kathe’s rakghoul, taking it right through the skull, while the knight leaps up and over Anakin’s rakghoul, carving a fatal gash through its spine as he completes his arc.

Roaring, one of the remaining three rakghouls makes a dash for Bail. Pulling out his blaster, Bail opens fire. Unfortunately the blaster pack – already low on power – releases a few dim shots which only lightly sear the beast’s yellow flesh. Unscathed, it tackles Bail to the ground. Holding the captain fast to the ground, it opens its jaws wide to rip his throat out.


Screaming like a banshee, Vaness charges the rakghoul holding her commanding officer down, spear held out before her. Colliding with the abomination, she runs the spear right through its sternum, knocking it off and away from Bail.

Gritting her teeth, Vaness pins the rakghoul to the ground, applying as much pressure to the end of the spear as she can. HISSING, the rakghoul throws out its arms and runs its claws down her back, cutting her flesh open. Bearing with the pain, she pulls out a makeshift knife; stabbing down, she pierces the monster’s throat, putting a final end to its misbegotten existence.

As Obi-Wan and Anakin quickly finish off the last of the rakghouls, Cmdr. Cody finally arrives. Moving up to Kathe, he takes her into his arms and immediately applies pressure to her injury.

CMDR. CODY: She’s bleeding out fast. (to the Jedi) You’re going to have to cauterize it.

Swallowing, Obi-Wan steps forward to do the job. Bringing out his azure blade, he cuts through the ragged end of the stump.


With the deed done, the Jedi Knight takes a step back. Breathing rapidly, Naad finally passes out, the shock too much to bear.

Approaching Vaness, Bail lightly lays his fingers down on her wounded back.

BAIL: These look bad.

CMDR. VANESS: (winces) Just flesh wounds. I’ll survive.


After hours trekking through the dank, dark tunnel, the escapees had decided to establish a camp and take a rest.

Chlorian tries to strike up a conversation with Darth, but the boy hasn’t said a single word since Shmi died. After some more prodding from Chlorian, Darth finally mutters that it’s his fault his mother is dead and that he wants to lay down and die himself. Fed up with Darth’s attitude, Chlorian tells him that if he does lay down and die, he’ll be dishonouring her memory and rendering her death meaningless; if he doesn’t want Shmi’s death to have been in vain, he’ll get his act together and fight to stay alive.


Having managed to lower the incapacitated Naad down the dry waterfall, the remaining members of the team set out for the Sith ziggurat. Anakin and Cody carry the traitor on the stretcher while Obi and Bail walk on ahead with Vaness behind them.

BAIL: (to Obi-Wan) She’s going to die.

OBI-WAN: Without proper medical attention, yes, eventually.

BAIL: (scoffs) Eventually. I don’t see a medcentre anywhere around, do you?

OBI-WAN: Our distress signal will be picked up in time.

BAIL: Naad’s running short on that particular commodity.

OBI-WAN: (stops and turns to face Bail) What do you suggest we do, Bail?

BAIL: She’s a traitor. She doesn’t deserve our food or our water and we shouldn’t be burdened carrying her sorry carcass around. You know what I suggest.

OBI-WAN: I will not be party to cold-blooded murder.

BAIL: You think she’d be half as generous if your situations were reversed?

OBI-WAN: I’m better than that.

BAIL: Yes, and frankly sometimes it makes me sick.


A number of hours later, the group decides to take a break. Naad, still weak, has regained consciousness.

KATHE NAAD: (weary) Hot. Need some water.

Cody exchanges glances with Bail.

BAIL: Give her some.

Uncapping a canteen, the Concordian lifts Naad’s head up and helps her take a drink.

CMDR. CODY: She’s burning with fever.

BAIL: It’s the least of what she deserves.


Having continued on, the group now finds itself camped out in a grove of ancient trees. Long dead, the gnarled plants have been bleached a pale bone-white.

As Vaness sets down her supplies, she swoons, suddenly disoriented.

BAIL: (concerned) Are you okay, Raia?

CMDR. VANESS: (puts her hand to her forehead) Just need to rest, that’s all.

As for Naad, she’s in even worse shape than she was earlier. Hair and face entirely drenched with sweat, her skin has taken on a sickly yellow hue.

KATHE NAAD: Obi-Wan ….

Hearing her weak call, the Jedi Knight crouches down beside her.


KATHE NAAD: You need to know … bring the others … they need to know, too ….

Obi-Wan signals the others to join him by the dying woman’s side.

KATHE NAAD: Several decades ago … before the Clone Wars … the Republic Senate funded the Outbound Flight Project. Have you … heard of it?

BAIL: It was an expeditionary project spearheaded by Jorus C’baoth. The mission was to send 50,000 colonists beyond the borders of the Galactic Republic into the Unknown Regions then past the galactic rim out towards the Rishi Maze, but communication abruptly stopped months into the mission and Outbound Flight was presumed lost.

KATHE NAAD: (nods) But several new hyperroutes into the Unknown Regions were charted before their disappearance … sent back to Republic Intelligence. They never had a chance to make use of them … before the Clone Wars broke out. (coughs) While the war with the Separatists was still being fought … the athas managed to procure some of these routes. My masters were already preparing for this war … so they decided to make use of them. (coughs) “Repurposing” several Starfleet vessels … you’ll find them listed as decommissioned or MIA in your files … the athas established colonies in dozens of uncharted systems, far beyond Republic space. (coughs) This way … if they ever found the war going south for them … they’d have an entire enclave of troops held back in reserve.

CMDR. VANESS: The route to these dark worlds can only be accessed from the Townowi system.

KATHE NAAD: Townowi leads to Geonosis … Geonosis to the Dark Worlds, as you’ve so aptly christened them. (coughs) Once Geonosis has been taken … contact with the Dark Worlds will be re-established. Their forces will rendezvous with ours … and Geonosis will serve as the beachhead for a renewed assault against the Empire. The war will be prolonged for several more years, (coughs) long enough perhaps for the Supremacy to secure victory. (coughs)

ANAKIN: With the interdiction field up, there’s no way to stop them. We can’t possibly track down and dispatch every inter-field generator in the web.

KATHE KATHE: Within the centre of the interdiction zone rests a battlemoon …. It’s been repurposed to serve as a … hyperspatial redistribution board …. All the inter-field generators have been slaved to it, allowing the entire field to be maintained from a sole location …. Seize the battlemoon and you can collapse the field.

Kathe then gives them a series of hyperspace coordinates which lead to the battlemoon’s location and the access codes they’ll need to attain passage through those points in the interdiction zone.

BAIL: I don’t believe any of this. You wouldn’t betray the Clonemasters; you’re hardwired against it.

KATHE NAAD: (laughs weakly) Look at me, Captain. (holds up her yellow hand) Look at my (coughs) skin. My “hardwiring” isn’t what it (coughs) used to be.

CMDR. CODY: You’re still vathead slime.

KATHE NAAD: Vathead slime … with all the memories of the original Kathe. (coughs) The athas had to create me like that, you know; the deception couldn’t have been pulled off otherwise. (coughs) She had a good life … before she was harvested …. Loving parents … two great brothers and an awesome cousin …. She knew how to make everyone her friend … how to laugh at herself …. (coughs) You would have liked Kathe and she would have liked you … just as I did.

The clone doubles over, grimacing as she clutches her gut with her single hand. Alarmed, the others back away.

KATHE NAAD: Please understand … I didn’t want to do what I did …. I didn’t want to kill Andue or Zosime or strand us here …. I had no choice; I had to obey my masters.

Black blood begins to seep from Kathe’s eyes, nose, and mouth.

KATHE NAAD: (cont’d) Now I only wish they were here … so I could rip their soulless hearts from their chests and eat them.

With those final angry words, Kathe undergoes her final transformation. Gray eyes turn a feral yellow; muscles quadruple in size; thick black claws erupt from hand and feet; hair falls out to be replaced with black spines; and the head distorts – the mouth widening to accommodate sharp, new teeth – leaving her transmogrified into a bestial rakghoul.

Unholstering his blaster, Cody shoots the rakghoul right between the eyes, putting an end to her tortured existence.

Vaness looks upon the slain inhuman creature that once was the clone of Kathe Naad, horrified beyond words.


Using the dead wood surrounding them, the last five remaining members of the team have built a large pyre for the creature that was Kathe Naad. The fire kindled, orange flames climb up the dry wood to lick the mangled, mutated cadaver.

As Vaness stands before the pyre, transfixed as the fire and smoke rise to claim the body lain upon it, Bail, Obi, Nik, and Cody stand off in the distance.

OBI-WAN: The creatures which attacked us … I finally recognize what they were. Rakghouls.

ANAKIN: Rakghouls … I read something about them in the records.

OBI-WAN: They were the products of Sith alchemy. Utterly mindless, their only motivation was their great, ever-present hunger. The Sith Lords made limited use of them during the Great Hyperspace War, before their use became a liability. (beat) The six we encountered must have been secreted away inside the temple, in stasis these past five-thousand years until we desecrated the tomb.

CMDR. CODY: These rakghouls – they could do … this?

OBI-WAN: Therein lies the efficacy of the rakghoul. Anyone who survived their attacks with just a bite or scratch became a rakghoul themselves.

BAIL: That isn’t going to happen to Raia.

OBI-WAN: Bail, I’m sorry ….

BAIL: (shakes his head) No. If she was infected, she would have turned already. Naad –

OBI-WAN: (interrupts) Naad transformed faster because her exposure to the rakghoul plague was greater. (beat) It will take Raia longer to succumb to the plague, but she will succumb. It’s only a matter of when.

BAIL: (shakes his head) No … no ….

OBI-WAN: All we can do is inform her, allow her to prepare herself for –

BAIL: (angry) No!

Storming away, he leaves the three men. Joining Vaness in front of the pyre, he rests a hand on her shoulder, desperately hoping for the gesture to bring some measure of comfort to them both.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



After days of travelling on foot, the escapees have come to the end of the tunnel. A narrow doorway stands before them, leading out into a cave.


Chlorian emerges out of the cave. The cave is situated up in the wall of the plateau, a winding pathway leading down to the flat, open desert terrain which stretches out to the horizon.

Chlorian begins climbing down the pathway, the hundreds of escapees following after him single-file.


Another day has come to Xuthltan. Rising with the hidden sun(s), Bail, Cody, Obi-Wan, and Nik get ready to resume their trek.

Vaness, for her part, remains asleep upon the ground.

BAIL: (approaches Vaness) Raia?

Crouching down, Bail gives her a shake. Waking with a groan, she turns over; she looks absolutely peaked.

BAIL: (frowns) Raia, you feeling okay?

CMDR. VANESS: (nods) More tired than usual. I didn’t have that great a sleep; bad dreams.

BAIL: But you’re well to travel?

CMDR. VANESS: (sits up) Of course.

Smiling, the captain gives the commander a reassuring pat on the shoulder.


All four men and last remaining woman as they leave the grove of dead trees and the smouldering remnants of the pyre.


As the next couple hours pass on by, Vaness grows evermore tired and weary. As she steadily weakens, the others gradually have to take up her portion of the supplies to ease her progress.


The travellers come to a stop. A kilometre away, the ziggurat looms over the landscape like a slumbering titan from a lost dark age.

Vaness – her usually tan features pale, eyes dark and heavy, forehead slick with sweat – collapses.

BAIL: (alarmed) Raia!

Rushing to her aid, Bail gets down to the ground and takes her into his arms. Afraid of what he’ll find, he puts a hand to her forehead.

BAIL: (voice small) She has a fever.

The others say nothing. There is nothing they can say.

BAIL: (runs his hand through his hair) Jango, how much charge is left in your blaster?

CMDR. CODY: (pulls out his blaster and checks) There’s enough for about twelve shots.

BAIL: Hand it over to me.

CMDR. CODY: (hands the blaster to Bail) Sir?

BAIL: Commander, you and Anakin are going to stay here with Raia; make sure she’s comfortable. Kenobi, you and I are going on to the temple.

OBI-WAN: Bail –

BAIL: There may be more rakghouls lurking about, correct? We’ll have to clear any out if we’re to make base camp at the temple, right?

OBI-WAN: (resigned) Right.

BAIL: Good to hear you agree with me. Let’s go.


Arriving at the ziggurat, the captain and the Jedi begin climbing the ramp, headed directly for the Sith tomb. Bail – face grim, hands clenched tightly around the shaft of a spear – takes point.


Bail and Obi appear in the entrance. As the captain goes on ahead, the Jedi activates his lightsaber.

Walking past the Sith statues, the two head on towards the tomb.

BAIL: Just cover me and slice anything that comes for my back.


Bail and Obi-Wan enter the tomb. Much is as it was before – except for the six rakghouls which now occupy the chamber, arranged in a circle around the sarcophagus, kneeled like supplicants before it.

Unholstering his borrowed blaster, Bail takes aim and empties three shots into the back of one of the rakghouls, killing it instantly.

BAIL: (enraged) Salutations from the Galactic Empire!

Alerted to the Human presence, the rakghouls rise and turn, growls low in their yellow throats. Bail gives them no opportunity to do more than that. Charging, he impales one of the beasts, shoots it right through the head, then pulls the spear out just in time to spin around and open up the throat of another rakghoul coming for him. Bringing his blade to bear, Obi-Wan comes to his commanding officer’s aid, slicing the hands and head off another rakghoul.


Sometime later. The rakghouls are all dead and the two Imperials have finished investigating the rakghoul stasis chambers, finding no more hidden within.

OBI-WAN: The chambers are all empty. If there are any rakghouls left, they’re not to be found here.

Bail doesn’t respond. Instead he hefts up his black blood-stained spear and approaches the white jade sarcophagus. Ramming the point of the spear under the lid, he begins prying it loose.

BAIL: Help me with this thing.

Joining Bail, the knight adds his weight to the spear. The lid is stubborn, but it soon begins to give way. In moments it pops off, sliding away and hitting the floor with a great big CRASH as it breaks in two.

There, nestled within the confines of the ancient sarcophagus, arms crossed over chest, are the mummified remains of a Sith Kissai priestess. The mummy is dressed in faded vermilion and aureolin robes, its stringy black hair beaded with precious gems.

BAIL: Hand me a torch.

Heading over to one of the many sconces lining the walls, Obi-Wan pulls an unlit torch free and brings it to the captain. Taking the torch, he lights it with one shot from his blaster.

BAIL: (raises the torch over the bones) Ashes to ashes.

Bail tosses the torch into the sarcophagus. The rotted clothes and dessicated flesh immediately catch, engulfing the mummy in flame – unnatural green flame. As the ancient corpse is consumed, a gust of wind blows through the tomb, carrying with it a sound not unlike a tortured wail.

BAIL: We’re done here.

Turning away from the violated sarcophagus and its burnt contents, the two men depart the tomb.


Cody and Anakin have brought Vaness to the ziggurat, and the team now sits camped outside the monument, off a ways to the right from the entrance into the tomb.

Vaness, in the advanced stages of her transformation, is now so weak that she needs Anakin’s assistance to take a drink of water. Lips blue, skin tinted yellow, she can only take two swallows before she begins coughing.

The other three men stand away from the Jedi apprentice and the poor woman.

OBI-WAN: Here they are, Bail, the final symptoms of the plague: yellow skin, blackened lips, paralysis. In three hours, maybe less, she will complete her transformation; Raia Vaness will be consumed by the plague, everything she was lost to the voracious hunger of the rakghoul. Is that what you want to see happen?

BAIL: Damn you, of course I don’t!

Reaching into Bail’s holster, the Jedi pulls out the blaster.

OBI-WAN: Then put an end to her suffering. Let her die with the dignity she has left.

Bail, torn between the love for his best friend and confidante and the knowledge that he can’t let her leave this life a profane monstrosity, doesn’t know what to do.

CMDR. CODY: Bail, if you can’t do it ….

BAIL: (angry) No! (beat) I’ll do it. Give me the damn blaster.

Obi-Wan hands the blaster to Bail. Accepting the gun, the captain approaches Vaness and Anakin.

BAIL: I’ll take over from here, son.

Nodding, Nik gets up, keeping his hands on Vaness to keep her from toppling over. Bail moves in, taking the young man’s place as he steps away. Vaness’ condition has worsened in the brief time that has passed since we saw her last. Her lips have turned completely black, her skin a solid ghastly yellow.

BAIL: Raia?

Vaness’ eyes crack open. They remain the same rich brown they have always been.

CMDR. VANESS: (weak) Bail?

BAIL: (smiles faintly) I’m told you’re not feeling well.

CMDR. VANESS: (laughs) Not feeling well’s putting it quite mildly.

BAIL: (drops the smile) Raia, what happened to Naad is happening to you. There’s nothing any of us can do to stop it.

CMDR. VANESS: (rolls her eyes) I wasn’t born yesterday, Bail.

BAIL: (tearing up) You know what I have to do.

CMDR. VANESS: (nods) I’ve known before you did.

No longer able to hold back, Bail begins to weep.

CMDR. VANESS: Bail, it’s better this way. Better this than to become one of those things.

BAIL: (wipes tears out of his eyes) I know, I know. (beat) I don’t want to lose you.

Mustering up the last of her strength, Raia reaches up to touch Bail’s face.

CMDR. VANESS: You proposed to me once, remember?

BAIL: (nods) I remember.

CMDR. VANESS: I couldn’t return your affections then. (beat) I can now.

She tries to lift her face to Bail’s but she can’t. Instead, he lowers his face to hers. Then, for the first and last time, they share a tender, loving kiss.

CMDR. VANESS: (sighs) Remember me as I was.

Cmdr. Raia Vaness then loses consciousness.

Shuddering, Bail gently lowers Vaness into a reclining position. Rising to his feet, he takes a step back and brings the blaster into firing position.


At first there is only blackness, then a pinpoint of light appears in the centre of that blackness. That pinpoint quickly widens and grows, overtaken the blackness until there is nothing but a white brilliance. The brilliance then subsides, affording us a view of the dim skylight situated in the ceiling of the Sith tomb directly above the jade sarcophagus.

Moving, the Dark Force reorients itself. Turning in a circle, it takes in the view of all the open doors; ignoring those leading into the stasis chambers, it focuses in on the doorway leading out into the entrance gallery. Moving forward, the Dark Force leaves the sarcophagus for the gallery.

The Dark Force speeds through the gallery, passing the silent statues and walls of glowing runes in a blur of motion, emerging out into the open air of Xuthltan’s approaching night. Turning on its left, the Dark Force spies the five Imperials. Advancing, it closes in on the most vulnerable of their number.


Closing his eyes, Bail prepares to press the trigger which will release the bolt of green plasma that will end Vaness’ life and send her on to the Force.

Vaness’ eyes fling open wide, the irises now a feral yellow. Focusing on the man with the gun before her, she lunges at him with a GROWL. Grabbing his wrist, she pulls him to her then takes hold of his shoulder and twists him around, wrenching his arm from its socket.


With a push, the woman that was Raia Vaness sends Bail flying. Landing on his dislocated arm, he issues a second cry of agony.

Done with Bail, Possessed Vaness lifts herself up with the Force, using it to levitate centimetres above the ground. Lifting up her hands, she then releases a subhuman HOWL. As Obi-Wan, Nik, and Cmdr. Cody back away from the floating woman in terror, she turns toward them, eyes blazing, bared white teeth contrasting sharply with her pitch black lips.

POSSESSED VANESS: (dual-toned) Defilers! The death-screams of my children called out to me through the darkness, roused me from my ancient slumber! Now you murderers – you profaners – now you all shall die!

Taking up a spear, Cody is the first to make a move against the possessed woman. As the Journeyman Protector lunges at her, stabbing twice with the spear, she simply dodges, moving left then right faster than he can strike. As he strikes a third time, Possessed Vaness grabs the point of the spear, holding it and him in place.

Igniting his lightsaber, Obi-Wan enters the fray. Dashing forward, he leaps up into the air, over Cody and Possessed Vaness, landing behind her. As the Jedi strikes, though, she catches the blue blade, the superheated plasma failing to burn through her hand. Chanting an incantation, she begins to resonate with a dark green aura. The lightsaber blade overloads with power then explodes, hurtling the Jedi away with plasma burns all over his face and hands. Turning her attention back to the commander, Possessed Vaness pulls the spear to her, bringing Cody close. Tossing the weapon aside, she takes the Concordian’s face into her hands and begins clawing at it, gouging bloody furrows into his cheeks, nose, and forehead.

Realizing his lightsaber could be hazardous to use against the possessed woman, Anakin takes up the fallen spear and charges, trained for her back. At the last second she spins around, using Cody’s body as a shield. Before he can stop himself in time, Anakin ends up running Cody through. Eyes flinging wide with surprise, the commander utters only a short CHIRP in response to the length of cold metal running through his abdomen.

Grinning, Possessed Vaness tosses Cody aside, sending him hurtling over the edge of the ziggurat to the ground below. Desperate, Anakin reaches to his lightsaber, but she telekinetically pulls it from his belt, calling it to her hand instead. Raising her other hand, she releases a blast of green energy, knocking Nik off his feet.

As Anakin lies there, fighting to think of what to do next, Possessed Vaness chants another incantation. In response to that arcane recitation, several vines erupt from the stone under and around the apprentice, entwining and thickening around his body to hold him in place. Struggling, he tries to loosen the hold of those conjured vines, but they refuse to slacken.

That horrid grin still plastered across her yellow face, Possessed Vaness glides over to Anakin, raising her free hand towards him. The black nails on that hand elongate and sharpen, forming glistening ebon claws.

Moving up close to the trapped Jedi apprentice, she rests her hand upon his forehead, sinking her black nails beneath the pliant flesh.



Anakin stands in an unsettling mindscape. A dark sky of violet clouds sits overhead, a thick layer of fog hiding the ground beneath his feet. Before the Jedi stands an attractive red-skinned humanoid woman attired in vermilion and aureolin robes with precious gems beaded in her hair – the very same figure whose bones rested within the jade sarcophagus, the very same figure who appeared in Nashira’s nightmare.

ANAKIN: You … who are you?

RED-SKINNED WOMAN: Nykres Eikhan. When I lived I was a Kissai of the Third Order, archpriestess in the Pearl Cloister of Ch’hodos. I served the Immortal Gods and their appointed Sith Lords until the sundering of the Empire.

ANAKIN: Why have you brought me to this place?

NYKRES EIKHAN (RED-SKINNED WOMAN): You are a young one, aren’t you?

ANAKIN: Twenty years old.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Barely a man. And how long have you spent in tutelage to your Jedi master?

ANAKIN: Six years.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (nods) I sense there is much you are ignorant of, much which has been concealed from you; a great many truths.

ANAKIN: I’m no history buff, if that’s what you’re after.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (laughs) Oh, you’re a witty one. How I would have cherished you for a protégé. (grows serious) Unfortunately, that time is past. All I have left is vengeance unfulfilled; you will saite that vengeance, as will your companions. But first I will reveal to you the truth.

ANAKIN: What truth?

NYKRES EIKHAN: The truth of my past and your future.

Taking hold of the folds of her robes, Eikhan sweeps them over Anakin, casting everything into oblivion.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



The nightside of a planet floating in the depths of outer space. Billions of lights glow on the surface of the planet, creating a web of artificial stars across its continents.

ANAKIN: (V.O.) Where are we?

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Over 28,000 years into the past. This is Sith, the birth world of my race.


Eikhan and Anakin standing on the surface of the original Sith homeworld. Though not spectacularly advanced by any means – there are no signs of speeders, starships, interstellar communication, etc. indicative of a starfaring civilization on the planet – neither is it particularly primitive. Millions of land vehicles move along a series of roads and bridges spanning the globe, passing thousands of towering skyscrapers which reach for the clouds and the air vehicles which fly above them.

NYKRES EIKHAN: In this age the Sith have subdued and filled their world, but they still know no unity; hundreds of nation-states span the globe, all controlled by disparate leaders, all in direct competition for control of the planet’s dwindling resources. (beat) This will all change with the coming of King Adas.


To a grand citadel situated deep in the centre of a Sith metropolis. Like a titanic reaching hand, it towers over the other buildings of the sprawling city.


On a balcony situated in the citadel’s highest level. Standing upon the balcony, overlooking the city beyond, is an IMMENSE CHARCOAL-SKINNED SITH MALE dressed in turquoise robes with a silver circlet worn upon his head.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) King Adas had a dream: to unite the Sith nations under one government, one rule – his own.


Adas on a war torn battlefield. Now dressed head-to-toe in jet-black armour – a spiked helm worn over his head, an alchemically forged battle axe in hand – leads Sith troops armed with automated slugthrowers in battle against Sith of a rival faction, mercilessly mowing down enemy soldiers by the dozens with his crystalline blade.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) A formidable sorcerer-warrior, Adas had the power to make his dream reality.


Adas standing before a jubilant crowd. Still attired in his black armour, he has removed the helmet; his hair long and white, skin weathered and wrinkled, he is now an old man. Raising his gauntleted hand before the crowd, he presents them the severed head of a deposed rival.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) It took three-hundred years of ceaseless battle, but Adas triumphed. He ruled unrivalled over Sith – the people and the planet both.


Adas seated in his throne in his citadel. Dressed in turquoise robes and silver circlet, he appears weighed down by both, sickly and weak.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) But the fruits of his victory were short-lived.


Adas lying in his deathbed, attended to by his physicians, aides, and friends.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) He died without ever appointing an heir ….


A violent riot raging through the streets. Adas’ soldiers try and fail to contain the violence, losing their lives in the process.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.; cont’d) … and his vision of unity died with him. (beat) With the passage of centuries, the Kissai came.


A TRIO OF BLACK-ROBED SITH. Standing before a large assemblage, they preach to the congregation with much passion and flourish, reading from a tome bound in Sith skin and inked in Sith blood.

NYKRES EIKHAN: This priesthood brought with them the word of new gods: the Immortal Gods, living manifestations of the Force itself. (beat) A novel interpretation of the Force was presented to the people; the Force – that universal energy field which bound the universe together – was absolute darkness, an all-hungry, all-consuming chaos which none – not even the dead – could claim sanctuary from in time. (beat) Ultimate salvation lay only through deification by the Immortal Gods, and they would share their godhood only with those who paid a specific price: lives for life – unending blood sacrifice for eternal existence.


Frightened parishioners talking amongst themselves in hushed, horrified tones.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Swayed by the fearful gospel of the Kissai, the Sith entrusted themselves to the priests for deliverance.


We see a series of images: the rebuilding of Sith civilization; the advancement of Sith technology; Sith starships leaving for the stars; and mass sacrifices of men, women, and children overseen by the Kissai.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Over the span of millennia, the Sith rebuilt their world. They even sent ships out amongst the stars to colonize new worlds. (beat) It all came at the cost of billions of innocent lives.


Dozens upon dozens of non-Sith starships dropping out of hyperspace near a blue-and-green planet.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Deliverance finally came with the Legions of Lettow.


The ships landing on this world.

As the passengers file out of the ships, we can see that they consist of individuals from several different races; Humans, Duros, Twi’leks, and various other familiar and unfamiliar creatures make up their number. Worn on their belts are archaic lightsabers: lightsabers with externally mounted focusing crystals and energy cords which feed into hip-worn power packs.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Travellers from distant stars, the Lettow had been exiled from their own region of space, banished for their beliefs. Sent out into the unknown, they were meant to perish in the cold void between worlds. Instead they found Korriban, a minor colony situated on the edge of Sith space.


The Lettow Legionnaires as they enter a village. Making their way through this squalid village, they regard the dozens of Sith which stand or sit about them – clad in filthy rags, suffering from disease or malnutrition – with pity.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) The exiles found Korriban a wretched hive of scum, of villainy. The citizens lived in filth and squalor without adequate housing, food, or medicine while their governor lived in great opulence.


A corpulent Kissai seated in the pleasure dome of his citadel. Laden with jewellery and robes of fine silk, he has his harem of beautiful slave girls feed him rich, fatty foods.


The legionnaires as they make their way through a hallway in the Kissai citadel. The pale yellow, nearly colourless blades of their lightsabers engaged, they cut through the citadel’s staff of Massassi warriors.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Finding the situation on Korriban intolerable, the Lettow deposed the governing Kissai ….


The Lettow Legionnaires as they drag the fat Kissai out into the open, before a gathering of emaciated, sickly Sith peasants. Forcing the Kissai to his knees, they then behead him. Taking up the headless corpse, the Lettow toss it to the assembled peasants, who strip it of its finery before tossing it in a sacrificial pit of everlasting flame.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.; cont’d) … and assumed control of Korriban, declaring it a world free of the Sith Empire’s tyranny.


The village on Korriban as it undergoes a radical transformation. The streets are cleaned up, the buildings repaired, and the people provided fresh new clothes and plenty of good food to eat.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Over the course of a few short years, the legionnaires established a new and better quality of life on Korriban. (beat) News of this eventually spread to the other worlds in the Sith Empire ….


We see a series of images of Sith throughout the Empire receiving and reacting to the news of the Lettow Legionnaires on Korriban.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) The news even reached the ears of those in the populace who had grown weary of the Kissai and the dark religion they had brought to the Empire.


A group of Kissai standing on a tower on the Sith homeworld, watching a fleet of warships departing for space.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) Deciding that the Lettow placed too great a risk to their rule, the Kissai dispatched an armada to Korriban.


The Sith armada as it bombards Korriban with energy weapons and thermonuclear weapons, sterilizing the planet of life.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) The Kissai had been unwise with their course of action; they only fanned the flames of rebellion.


We bear witness as a significant number of Sith dissidents assemble and rise up to oppose the Kissai. Capturing a number of important worlds and claiming a fleet of warships for their own use, they go to war with the Kissai forces.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) The Dissidents ultimately won, claiming victory in a final, desperate action.


A Sith captain aboard a Dissident warship.

Resting her hands upon the control crystals, the Dissident captain activates a Force-based weapon which reaches deep into the heart of the Sith sun, wrenching out its core and destabilizing it.

Rapidly collapsing in on itself, the star goes nova, annihilating everything in the system – the world of Sith included.


Ziost, a cold, night-shrouded planet.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) With the Kissai defeated, the Dissident leaders assumed command of the Sith Empire and made Ziost the new throne world.


The Dissident leaders in their council chambers. There are eleven of them; one stands at the centre with the others kneeled in a ring around him, hands planted on the hilts of their warblades in obeisance.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) They formed a new system of government to replace the one founded by the Kissai. The Sith Empire would now be ruled by a council of Sith lords and ladies which, in turn, would be ruled by a single appointed Lord or Lady of the Sith.


The Sith Lords as they revamp the Kissai religion, revising the Kissai holy texts and establishing a new priesthood.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (V.O.) The Sith Lords then received new revelation. Whereas the Kissai had preached that the Force was darkness and chaos – the gods covetous and flesh-hungry – the lords revealed that the Force was order as well as chaos, that benevolent gods ruled alongside the evil ones in infinity. This newfound truth established, the Sith Lords entrusted it to a revamped Kissai priesthood to honour and protect.


We watch as the Sith Empire goes through a new age of great prosperity and expansion.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Under the Sith Lords, the Sith Empire experienced a renaissance. The Empire expanded to encompass several thousand worlds. We experienced prosperity the likes of which we had never experienced before. (beat) But our golden age eventually came to an end. Apathy set in. With it, stagnation.


Eikhan and Anakin standing on the surface of a desolate world.

The Sith and the Jedi stand within a sheltered valley, the walls of which have had innumerable temples built into them. Effigies and statues adorn the temples, carved in the likenesses of Sith gods and heroes and guardian beasts.

ANAKIN: Now where are we?

NYKRES EIKHAN: Korriban, thousands of years after the nuclear armageddon. In honour of the fallen Lettow, the Sith Lords made it the Empire’s mausoleum world – the final resting place of the great Lords and Ladies of the Sith and their vassals.

Leaving the pair, we come to focus on a funeral procession. A SOLEMN SITH LORD leads the procession. Behind him, six Kissai pallbearers carry aloft the body of a recently deceased Lord. Behind them are several other Kissai, mourners, Massassi warriors, and labourers.

ANAKIN: Who died?

NYKRES EIKHAN: Lord of the Sith Marka Ragnos.

The processioners end their march before the steps of a grand temple. Lowering the body of Ragnos to the ground, the Kissai step back to allow the Sith Lord – LUDO KRESSH – to step up to it. Bringing forth a horned helmet he has been holding in his hands, he slips it down over the swaddled head of the dead Lord.

LUDO KRESSH: (in Sith, subtitled) Marka Ragnos, great Lord, wear this victory helmet during your battles in the afterlife.

The blessing given, the Kissai take up the body and Kressh leads them up the steps to the Grand Temple’s entrance.

As the Kissai slip inside the tomb, Kressh turns to face the onlooking mourners.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) All hail the memory of Marka Ragnos! His legacy will live for centuries among the Sith people and their rulers!

As this is happening, a Sith yacht descends from the sky. Landing in the valley close to the Grand Temple, it disgorges ANOTHER SITH LORD and his personal Massassi entourage.

ANAKIN: Who’s that?

NYKRES EIKHAN: Naga Sadow – fellow lord and sworn enemy of Ludo Kressh.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) We wait for no man, Sith Lord or slave. (to the Kissai) Let the flames blaze high!

Touching torches to the carved hands of the effigy framing the tomb entrance, the Kissai ignite a pair of braziers, sending great orange flames skyward.

Arriving at the temple steps, Lord Sadow and his Massassi ascend, on approach for Lord Kressh and his entourage.

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) I have come to take my place at the funeral of Marka Ragnos.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) Go back, Naga Sadow! You do not belong here!

Silently ordering his Massassi to stay back, Sadow climbs the rest of the steps.

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) I belong where I choose to belong, Ludo Kressh!

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled; angry) Your rebellious actions and experiments are a threat to us all! I command here!

The two Sith Lords now stand apart, facing each other eye-to-eye.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled; cont’d) You would destroy the greatness Marka Ragnos maintained in the Sith Empire when he was Lord! You shame his memory!

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) Marka Ragnos was the Lord and I obeyed him while he lived, as everyone must obey the new Lord of the Sith. By rights, it should be me!

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) Your ways will ruin the Empire, Naga Sadow! Stepping in dangerous waters, unleashing powers you do not understand – powers the Sith Lords do not need to insure our continued dominance here!

NAGA SADOW: (angry; subtitled) The Sith Empire is stagnant! For centuries we have done nothing but wallow in our riches and relive our ancient conquest of these worlds! That is no longer enough!

Reaching to his side, Sadow grasps the hilt of his sword.

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) The fate of the Sith Empire must not rest in the hands of a backwards thinker such as you, Kressh.

As Sadow unsheathes his crystalline blade, one of Kressh’s followers hands the other lord his own blade.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) There can be only one Lord of the Sith.

Taking his warblade, Sadow plants the tip into the stone beneath his feet. Summoning dark Force energy forth from the enchanted amulets worn upon his hands, he channels it through the sword’s blade, charging it with violet energy.

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) I, Naga Sadow, call upon the power of the Sith … (wrenches out the blade and hefts it before him) the power of my royal blood … the power of the Force!

Charging his own warblade with dark blue energy, Kressh points it skyward.

LUDO KRESSH: (subtitled) I fight for the Sith Empire, Naga Sadow – you fight for yourself!

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled) I fight for the future

Striking simultaneously, the two Sith Lords cross blades, releasing a blast of violet-blue Force energy.

NAGA SADOW: (subtitled; cont’d) … and the future is now!

As the duel rages, another ship – the Starbreaker 12, a ship not of Sith design – passes overhead, unleashing a great sonic BOOM which resonates through the valley, disrupting the battle and drawing the attention of the Sith.

Passing over Sadow’s yacht, the Starbreaker 12 comes to hover a ways away from the Grand Temple and the Sith multitude. As the mourners approach the alien craft, lines drop down from the main body of the ship, allowing them to anchor the ship in place.

The Starbreaker 12’s hatch opens, allowing two young Humans – brother and sister explorers GAV and JORI DARAGON – out to greet the Sith, big smiles on their innocent faces.

GAV DARAGON: Greetings from the Republic! We come in peace!

JORI DARAGON: We’re interested in setting up a fine trade relationship with your civilization.

With a wave of her hand, Nykres Eikhan causes this vision from the past to dissolve away.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Gav and Jori Daragon were taken into custody, escorted to Ziost and imprisoned until the Sith Lords could glean their true purpose for coming to the Empire. (beat) Naga Sadow saw this as his opportunity to succeed Marka Ragnos as Lord of the Sith and expand the borders of the Sith Empire; he took it.

With another wave of her hand, Eikhan calls up another vision – one of Naga Sadow and his followers leading a series of attacks against his fellow Sith to free the Daragons from captivity and plant evidence to make it look as if the Human siblings are the vanguard of a full-scale Republic invasion of Sith territory.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Using the Daragons as scapegoats, Sadow created the spectre of an outside enemy, an opposing force that would unify us and ignite the Sith Empire into a golden flame again.

As Anakin watches on, we see Naga Sadow lead Jori to the Starbreaker 12 sans Gav. Climbing aboard, she escapes Ziost, en-route for Republic space, unaware that there is a biomechanical tracking device attached to the outer hull.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Thus began the great war between our two empires ….

Anakin watches as ancient Sith and Republican ships battle in space and over the surface of worlds; as Jedi Knights – now armed with modern lightsabers – lead troops into pitched, deadly groundside battles against Sith warriors bearing alchemically forged warblades and battle axes; as the innocent bystanders on both sides of the conflict die in the senseless anarchy unleashed by Sadow’s greed and ambition.

NYKRES EIKHAN: At first the Sith prevailed. Our ships were the fastest, our shields the strongest, our weapons the most destructive. However, our Empire was smaller than your Republic by far. Thus our superior technology eventually fell before your superior numbers.

Anakin watches as the Republic fleet drives the remnants of the Sith fleet out of Republican territory, back to Sith space.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (turns) It should have ended here; you were the victors, the Sith Empire was in ruin. It didn’t.

With a great clap of her hands, Eikhan brings them to the surface of another world.

Standing out in an open plain, Anakin watches as Sith – not lords nor vassals nor Kissai nor Massassi but defenseless commonfolk – flee in terror as cloaked figures bear down on them astride large caninoid steeds. These cloaked figures, ignited lightsabers in hand, are Jedi.

ANAKIN: (frowns) No … what is this?

Corralling the Sith like rabbits, the mounted Jedi warriors steer the dozens of Sith adults and children, trampling underfoot those not swift enough to keep pace with their faster companions.

Once the Sith have been driven to a dead end – with no space in which to hide – the Jedi bring their sabers down on them, hacking left and right, massacring them indiscriminately.

ANAKIN: (horrified) No!

Bolting forward, Anakin leaps up and tries to tackle one of the Jedi murderers from his steed, but he passes right through the warrior. Hitting the ground, he rolls then jumps back up, still determined to end the slaughter. As the angry buzzes of blazing lightsabers mix with the agonized screams of wounded and dying Sith, he continues trying to stop the violence, all to no avail.

Finally it ends as it must; collapsing to his knees, butchered Sith strewed about the ground like broken toys about him, Anakin Skywalker weeps, sobbing into his palms.

Nykres Eikhan, her face contorted with rage, strides up to Anakin. Grabbing him by the hair, she forces his head up, forcing him to look back upon the bloodshed.

NYKRES EIKHAN: Do you see? Do you finally see?! This is what the Jedi did to my people! Every Sith – every Sith – was hunted down, killed to the last man, the last child. (beat) What is it you Jedi claim to be? Guardians of peace? Of justice? Is this peace? Is this justice?! Answer me!

ANAKIN: (outraged) No!

Pulling, the priestess forces Anakin back to his feet.

NYKRES EIKHAN: I am not finished. I showed you my past. Now it is time to see your future. Then – then – you can finally die!

The plain with its massacred Sith and fallen Jedi dissolves away, leaving Eikhan and Anakin standing within the throne room of the Imperial Palace on Coruscant.

It is some time in the near future, and a coronation ceremony is currently being held. A man – Human, slim, but with his facial features inexplicably obscured – sits upon the throne as the grand vizier reads from the Rite of Ascension.

NYKRES EIKHAN: In the years to come, corruption will infect your Empire. More and more senators, seduced by power and wealth, will ally themselves with special interests and corruption will spread to numerous worlds! (beat) Out of that turmoil, this man will rise to power as your new emperor.

Once the reading is finished, the vizier takes the Imperial crown from a servant. Turning to the man on the throne, he lowers the crown onto his head, officially bestowing him the title of Emperor of the Galactic Empire.

NYKRES EIKHAN: He will emerge as a dynamic and pragmatic figure, getting the government to work again. He will fill the heads of the people with grand rhetoric, promising to lead the Empire into a golden age like those of ancient dynasties past.

The vision changes. The grand vizier and the other onlookers disappear, leaving the emperor alone in his throne. The throne room is draped in shadow now, the emperor clad in a black robe which hides his face.

NYKRES EIKHAN: This will be but a pretense. Once secure in his power, he will reveal his true face to the Galaxy. (beat) He will be a most powerful sorcerer, a master of that which you call the dark side.

Anakin sees the robed emperor standing now. Having thrown his hands into the air, he telekinetically holds aloft a lowly servant. Closing his hands into fists, he causes the poor creature to spontaneously combust, immolating him alive from the inside out.

NYKRES EIKHAN: He will conquer the Jedi. They will serve him.

Anakin and Eikhan now stand within the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

The hooded emperor passes between two columns of Jedi Knights, a Jedi master in maroon robes on his left and a Jedi master in ultramarine robes on his right. He inspects the knights, all of whom stand ramrod straight, faces devoid of emotion, their customary charcoal uniforms traded in for militaristic black synth-leather uniforms.

NYKRES EIKHAN: This army of Jedi at his command, your new emperor will have those who refuse to swear their fealty to him hunted down ….

We now see these dark Jedi in black synth-leather hunt down those Jedi who refuse to bow to the New Order. Following the fugitives to the farthest corners of the Empire and beyond, they cut them down with their blue, green, and yellow lightsabers.

NYKRES EIKHAN: (cont’d) And this will be only the beginning. The real horror – that is yet to come ….

Anakin now sees a flurry of new, evermore disturbing images. Imperial officials have children taken from their parents; Imperial agents force themselves upon helpless women and men; Star Destroyers bombard defenseless worlds with torrents of green laserfire; battalions of soldiers encased in white plasteel armour swarm forth across the surface of disloyal worlds, mowing down all whom they find in the scopes of their blaster rifles; a moon-sized battle station targets a beautiful blue globe and unleashes a powerful superlaser, shattering it and killing everyone alive on its surface in one horrendous instant.

ANAKIN: (shakes his head) No! No, no, no, no!

NYKRES EIKHAN: Yes! And you do not have the power to stop it! No Jedi will ever have the power to prevent this future from coming to pass!

ANAKIN: There has to be a way to stop this man from becoming emperor!

NYKRES EIKHAN: There are none!

ANAKIN: (turns to Eikhan) The Sith! What about the Sith?!

NYKRES EIKHAN: The Sith are gone, their fire extinguished! You extinguished it!

ANAKIN: No! (grabs Eikhan by the front of her robes) The Sith worlds – do they still exist? Where are they?!

NYKRES EIKHAN: They are all dead and empty! As dead and empty as Xuthltan, as Korriban!

ANAKIN: Korriban! The Sith Lords interred on Korriban! (beat) Their spirits – do their spirits reside there?!

NYKRES EIKHAN: They sleep in stone as I did, and their power is greater than my own, but they will never aid you – Jedi.

ANAKIN: Tell me how to reach Korriban!

NYKRES EIKHAN: (bears her teeth) I will tell you if you can pry the words from my dead lips!

The Kissai seizes Anakin’s throat in a chokehold and he reciprocates. The two combatants then struggle there, locked in violent mental battle as the mindscape grows distorted, on the verge of collapse.


Returning to reality, we find Possessed Vaness and Anakin still there, the apprentice on his knees, trapped in the thick vines, with the yellow-skinned Human/rakghoul hybrid hovering over him, claw-like nails of her left hand buried under the skin of his brow. Their faces are both blank of emotion, betraying no sign of the furious battle currently being waged within their shared unconscious.

Behind the two, Bail remains prone upon the stone, wounded arm trapped beneath him. Gritting his teeth, he forces his free hand beneath his body; finding the blaster pinned under him, he wrenches it free. With the possessed woman’s back turned to him, Bail levels the blaster at her and opens fire, emptying the last of the weapon’s stored energy into her back. The green plasma bolts strike with deadly precision; the connection between she and Anakin abruptly severed, the woman collapses into a heap, uttering not a sound as she falls. The vines entangled around Nik quickly dry up, wither, and decay into ash, allowing him to collapse alongside her.

Cradling his wounded arm, Bail scuttles over to the motionless form of his former second-in-command. Checking her throat for a pulse, he finds none. Moving away from her, he goes to Anakin.

BAIL: Skywalker? (shakes Anakin) Skywalker? Anakin, can you hear me? Anakin!?

The young man, though still alive, is in a catatonic shock. His eyes, fixed open, stare straight ahead into nothing.


The next day, Bail and Obi-Wan sit with Cmdr. Cody and Anakin. Though in serious condition, Cody is remarkably still alive; by rolling down the sloping exterior wall of the ziggurat instead of plummeting straight to the ground below, he broke his fall, sparing him immediate death. For his part, Anakin remains catatonic, unaware of anyone or thing around him.

As Obi looks down at his burnt, bandaged hands in his lap, a low mechanical HUM begins to resonate through the air. Looking up, he and Bail spot a homely, ungainly freighter descending from the sky towards them.


The Jedi and captain walking down the ziggurat ramp as the freighter lands.

As the two Humans approach the ugly ship, the entry hatch opens, allowing a BOTHAN and a DRESSELLIAN to step out into the dry Xuthltanian air.


As his crew helps bring the unconscious/catatonic forms of Cody and Anakin aboard, the Bothan captain turns to regard Bail, who has just entered the ship, the shrouded form of Vaness’ body held in his arms.

BOTHAN CAPTAIN: What happened to you guys down here?

BAIL: (solemn) That’s a long story, Captain. Maybe I’ll tell it to you when I’m in the right mind for it.

As Bail glumly files inside, he’s followed by Obi-Wan. Turning to the burned Jedi, the Bothan captain quickly exchanges wordless glances with the Human before closing the hatch.


As the freighter flies through the air on its way back to space, it passes over the wreck of the Wayward Son.


The Bothan captain and Dressellian co-pilot sit behind the controls of their ship, Obi-Wan and Bail seated behind them.

BOTHAN CAPTAIN: (notices the Wayward Son) That’s the ship you came down here on?


BOTHAN CAPTAIN: A YT-1300. That’s a great ship; my cousin has one of those. Sad it see it in such sorry condition. (turns to the Humans) Will you be comin’ back for it?

BAIL: It’s scrap now.

BOTHAN CAPTAIN: (shrugs) Looks like a fixer-upper to me.

BAIL: You’re welcome to it if you want it.

BOTHAN CAPTAIN: Thanks. I think we’ll come back this way ‘round after our current run, give it a once-over and see if we can’t get it towed back to Rinel. (beat) Y’know, even if it’s a strike-off, it’s bound to have good parts worth salvaging.

Divergent Universes
Dreams of a Randy Git-Fiend

Make Off Topic great again.



A hunting party led by Chlorian traipses across the flat plains of the cold Geonosian desert in search of prey, but they haven’t had luck finding any yet. Indeed, all evidence supports the unwelcome conclusion that an earlier wave of Condawni refugees swept through this region a long time before they themselves decided to leave Capitol Centre; the long-dried carcasses of butchered animals strewn about the landscape like organic litter bear this out.

In time, the hunting party comes across a small pack of dog-like massiffs. The reptilian creatures are emaciated, indirect victims of the mass hunting which has depleted the region’s fauna. Taking their blasters, the hunters make short work of the massiffs.


Several hours later. It is now dusk, and Chlorian’s hunting party has rendezvoused with their camp’s other hunting parties. Aside from one party managing to scavenge bits of useful meat from a creature someone or something else had killed, none of them succeeded in procuring any food.


The hunting parties have returned to the ramshackle camp they have established in the open desert. Stripping the meat from the massiff carcasses, they toss it into a broth of boiled red algae and cook it into a stew. Once the stew is cooked, it is fed to the youngest and weakest members of their camp. Due to the size of the camp, the stew is all gone before most of them get the chance to have any.

Later in the night, Chlorian has a talk with the other leaders. Due to the lack of food in the area, they decide that they will pack up tomorrow and move on.


Nashira is in the kitchen, busy loading used dishes into the dishwasher, when a mechanical warble begins to ululate from the comm booth.

NASHIRA: (sets down a greasy plate) Anyone got that?

Getting no reply from either of her parents, Nashira sighs and leaves the kitchen to answer the incoming call.


Entering the cubicle, Nashira turns the flatscreen on. The display immediately lights up, displaying the logo of the Corporate Sector’s HoloNet provider.

COMPUTER: You have one incoming transmission from Obi-Wan Kenobi. Do you accept or decline?

NASHIRA: Accept.

Obi’s headshot automatically appears on the display. His face is haggard, his expression perturbed.

NASHIRA: Obi, hi. (frowns at his unkempt appearance) What’s up?

OBI-WAN: Nashira … I …. (runs a hand through his hair) Nashira, it’s about Anakin.

NASHIRA: (concerned) What about Anakin?

The Jedi Knight swallows, uncertain as to how to proceed with the bad news he has to deliver.


Nemec and Corin are seated in the room – he reading a datapad, she watching free-style zero-G swimming on the holovid display – when Nashira walks in stiffly, mouth agape. Noticing their daughter’s strange, zombie-like behaviour, they immediately turn from their activities to her.

NEMEC: (frowns) Is something wrong, ‘Shira?

NASHIRA: It’s Nik. (raises her hand to her mouth) He’s been in an accident.

Her strange, stoic shock breaks and an expression of absolute dread passes over her features. That is when she collapses to the floor, fainted dead away.

CORIN: (horrified) ’Shira!


Under the pale beige sky of the Outer Rim world of Delantine stands the Abieds-Brannrid Medical Centre. Cylindrical in shape, the main section of the centre is connected to an inward-curving back wall and a silo-shaped forward section.


Obi-Wan steps away from a comm booth as a female nurse approaches him.

NURSE #1: Mr. Kenobi? Dr. Reyem’s about to begin the examination.

Obi-Wan nods once to her.


Anakin, clad in a pale green hospital gown, eyes still fixed open, lies motionless atop a medical examination table. Overhead, a bioscanner attached to a motorized arm comes to life; emitting gold light, the medical device scans the Jedi apprentice’s head.


On the other side of a transparisteel window which looks out into the bioscan chamber is Obi-Wan and DR. NADI REYEM, a pretty Human doctor with curly brown hair worn back in a loose bun.

As the scan of Anakin’s brain is completed, Dr. Reyem looks the data over.

DR. REYEM: (frowns) This can’t right.

OBI-WAN: What is it?

DR. REYEM: I have to take another scan.

Reinitializing the bioscanner, Reyem takes another encephalogram of Anakin’s brain. The resulting diagnosis is exactly the same.

DR. REYEM: (shakes her head) No, this is definitely not right. The machine must need recalibration.

OBI-WAN: Why? What does the data show?

DR. REYEM: (turns to Obi-Wan) Mr. Kenobi, the encephalogram doesn’t show any of the tell-tale signs of low brain activity associated with catatonic stupor.

OBI-WAN: What does it show?

DR. REYEM: It shows that your friend is fully conscious, alert to external stimuli. (beat) That’s simply not possible.


Taking Anakin from a hoverchair, two orderlies lay the apprentice down in a narrow hospital bed. After they have tucked him in, they depart, leaving the catatonic Jedi alone with Dr. Reyem and his master.

OBI-WAN: What now, Doctor?

DR. REYEM: Mr. Kenobi, I’ve specialized in neurosurgery for thirty-three years, and this just flies in the face of everything I know about the Human brain. By rights, Anakin should be up and about, walking and talking, this very minute. (beat) You want my honest appraisal?

OBI-WAN: Please.

DR. REYEM: This isn’t a neurological condition. I don’t believe this is a type of medical condition whatsoever. (beat) This – this is supernatural. (laughs humourlessly) I’ve always considered myself a rationalist, but here and now, I believe a witch doctor would have greater success rousing your friend from his torpor than an actual doctor.

Shaking her head in bewilderment, Reyem turns and leaves the room. Now alone with Anakin, the knight looks down upon his seemingly oblivious apprentice.

OBI-WAN: Well, my friend, the medical community has thrown in the towel. Perhaps the doctor’s correct. Perhaps it is time to resort to non-rational means ….

Reaching out, Obi rests his fingers lightly upon Anakin’s brow. Closing his eyes, he concentrates on making contact with Anakin’s mind, on penetrating the haze entrapping it and drawing it back to the surface.

Suddenly Anakin’s eyes come into focus, pupils dilating into pinpoints in their orbs.


Bolting up in bed, his face twisted into a terrifying grimace, an enraged Anakin seizes Obi-Wan’s throat in a chokehold. Startled, the Jedi staggers back, but Nik remains latched on. Falling backward to the floor, the apprentice collapsing atop him, Obi-Wan desperately tries to pry the clenched fingers from his soft throat, but the apprentice, still raving, only tightens his grip.

As Obi-Wan’s face starts to turn purple and his struggles against Anakin’s fierce attack begin to falter, the door bursts open. Dr. Reyem and the two orderlies dash inside, with the orderlies rushing Anakin, pulling the maniacal Jedi off his master and pinning him to the floor. Pulling out a hypo-syringe, Reyem moves forward, avoiding Nik’s thrashing legs, and plunges the needle deep into his gut, administering a large dose of sedative.

It takes over a minute, but the sedative’s effects finally kick in; losing his strength, Anakin slips back into unconsciousness.

DR. REYEM: (to Obi-Wan) What did you do?!

Obi-Wan, still sprawled out on the floor, hand at his reddened throat, can only answer with a fearful look from his eyes.


Hours have passed, and Anakin lies back in his bed, restraints tightly secured around his wrists and ankles. Awake, he looks out his window at Delantine’s three setting suns.

The room’s door opens, allowing Obi-Wan and an orderly to slip inside. The apprentice pays neither of them any heed.

OBI-WAN: (approaches Anakin’s bed) Nik?

Anakin doesn’t respond.

OBI-WAN: (uneasy) You gave me quite the throttling earlier. Not to worry, though; I’ll live.

Anakin doesn’t respond.

OBI-WAN: (gestures at the orderly) I’d ask him to leave, but –

ANAKIN: (distant) Why didn’t you tell me?

OBI-WAN: (frowns) What about?

ANAKIN: (turns to Obi-Wan) The sorceress took me inside her mind. She showed me visions of the past – her past. (beat) I saw Jedi Knights hunting down Sith; not warriors, but the people. They took their lightsabers and butchered them. Not just the men, but the women and children, too. They were like animals; they slaughtered them like animals. (beat) It wasn’t a horrible illusion, was it? It happened, didn’t it? Don’t lie to me.

OBI-WAN: (sighs) The Jedi Shadows, a faction dedicated to ridding the Galaxy of all things Sith, helped the old Republic hunt down and destroy the Sith race. (beat) They betrayed the Jedi Creed; they were no longer true Jedi.

ANAKIN: Were they punished?

OBI-WAN: Many Jedi rallied against the Sith Purge ….

ANAKIN: Were they punished?

OBI-WAN: (resigned) No.

ANAKIN: (turns away from Obi-Wan) Everything you taught me about the Jedi was a lie.

OBI-WAN: Anakin, no --!

ANAKIN: (angry) The Jedi respect life, in all its forms! But were the Sith not alive? Did they not live and love and think as we do? (turns back to Obi-Wan, tears running down his cheeks) Give me no platitudes about creeds or true or false Jedi. Our order turned a blind eye as billions were put to the sword; that is beyond excuse. (agonized) And it’s all going to happen again, only the bloodshed will be on a grander scale, a thousand times worse.

OBI-WAN: Bloodshed? Anakin, what are you talking about?

ANAKIN: The sorceress showed me the past, but she didn’t stop there; she also showed me the future. A darksider will become emperor, and the Jedi will serve him as he rapes the Galaxy.

OBI-WAN: No, Anakin! Don’t believe it! Whatever the witch showed you – whatever future you witnessed – it was a deception! The Jedi will never follow the dark side!

ANAKIN: (sneers) By your own admission, we already have.


Located at the base of the Jedi Temple’s northwestern side, the Room of a Thousand Fountains is, for all intents and purposes, a seven-storey-tall greenhouse. Within the chamber, dozens upon dozens of elevated platforms take up space throughout each of the seven storeys. Engineered into artificial garden islands, not a single millimetre of space is uncovered by earth or foliage or ponds. Several bridges connect the platforms, ensuring easy access to each of them. Utilizing a combination of special lighting and a holographically projected sky, the glass walls and ceiling of the chamber are obscured from direct view, creating an almost flawless illusion that this microcosm isn’t even located within the Jedi Temple – or anywhere else on Coruscant, for that matter.

Between two of the platforms, walking leisurely along one of the bridges, are Siri and Master Windu.

MACE WINDU: (cont’d) We have uncovered the identity of one your attackers. (beat) The DNA samples we took from the Wookiee’s remains matched those on file within Kashyyyk’s bio-database. Your hirsute attacker was apparently Mahttoh, a Wookiee who – with aid from an unidentified Trandoshan – managed to break the Kashyyyk blockade ten years ago and escape off-world. (beat) The governor of Kashyyyk was very pleased when we informed him of their wayward escapee’s final fate.

SIRI: Unidentified Trandoshan? So that’s it? We’re still in the dark as to who exactly they were and what their motivation for seeking out Obi-Wan was?


Halting in mid-stride, the Jedi master walks over to the side of the bridge. Resting his hands along the guardrail, he looks over the side to the mist-enshrouded depths below them. Siri soon joins him.

MACE WINDU: (smiles) It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

SIRI: Yes. (smiles) Mistress Gallia used to take us out here every day for our meditations. I’d spend hours lost in the scents and sounds of the plants and waters. (sighs) Now I’m lucky if I get to visit the fountains once a month.

MACE WINDU: That can be remedied. (turns to Siri) Siri, how would you like to come back to the Temple?

SIRI: (cocks an eyebrow) Master?

MACE WINDU: Adi and I have given what has transpired considerable thought, and we believe your safety remains a concern. It is in your best interest that you avoid your apartment – stay here where your brethren-in-arms can watch over and protect you – until the Trandoshan has been apprehended.

SIRI: I appreciate the gesture, Master, but it’s unwarranted. The Trandoshan isn’t so foolish as to stage such a heedless assault.

MACE WINDU: (raises his finger) You underestimate his tenacity. He will not sleep until he’s revenged himself upon you for taking his arm and the life of his partner.

SIRI: I have crossed blades with many dangerous opponents over the years, ever since I was old enough to join my mistress on away missions. I am not afraid of a one-armed lizard in cortosis armour.

MACE WINDU: Of that there’s no doubt, yet don’t forget Sakan Do’nair’s Admonition: “The slightest blade can slip between the plates of the heaviest armour.” I believe the interpretation is clear.

SIRI: (sighs) What of Obi-Wan?

MACE WINDU: Your husband is away on the front. It will be months before he returns. (places a hand on Siri’s shoulder) Leave future concerns for the future.

Siri takes a moment to digest Windu’s words.

SIRI: Can I have my old room back?

MACE WINDU: (half-smiles) Of that, we’ll have to see.

Divergent Universes
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