Star Wars: The New Dawn (The First Episode in DuracellEnergizer's New PT Re-Write) *COMPLETE* — Page 5

I'm sorry to say this, but due to a current lack of inspiration and interest, I've all but stopped work on this script; I'm simply not engrossed in where the story is right now, so I don't feel all that interested it trying to work through it at this time.

So, with that being the case, I felt I should play another game of "assign a face to the character" to compensate. Since I've pretty much reached the end of the line in regards to memorable characters I'll be introducing to the story, this'll be a very short list.

I've finally found a face for the character of Zull -- Dolores O'Riordan's.

After listening to a fair amount of songs by the Cranberries a couple of months ago, I came to find that a lot of the sorrow found in the vocals and the lyrics mirrored the sorrow that Zull was feeling, so I came to associate O'Riordan's face and voice with the character.

This is the hairstyle I imagine Zull wears (or wore -- past tense).

Frankly, I just love this hairstyle. It's my favourite '80s hairstyle for women, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to give one of my female characters beautiful hair like this.

I imagine that the Mandalorian dungeon master looks like Jeffrey Combs under his helmet.

Let's just say that the dungeon master reminded me of Herbert West from the Re-Animator films, so I couldn't help but to imagine that Combs was the one wearing that ancient suit of Mandalorian armour.

I imagine that Nashira looks exactly like a young Jane Fonda (forgive me, but I couldn't find a better picture of Fonda as a child).

I can't remember exactly how I came to associate Fonda's likeness with Nashira's, but I do know that her appearance in Barbarella was what sparked the notion. Whatever the case may be, I think she carries a strong enough resemblance to Mark Hamill that she could have played Luke's biological mother in some possible world.

Just today, I was wondering what was happening with this. You answered my question before I had a chance to ask it. Hopefully you get some new ideas and can continue writing.

Good luck.

The thing is is that I know where I'm going with the plot -- from here on out, the story becomes a prison story, and the ending basically consists of all the prisoners learning to link their minds together in the Force to break free from the Mandalorian stronghold en masse. It's working out all the details that connect Point A to Point B that's the major headache.

Well, I decided to try getting something done with the script and actually managed to get some words down, so I'll be posting what I wrote up momentarily. 

I can't say whether or not this means I'll be posting regularly again, or if this is just a brief spasm of creativity that'll just lead to another long stretch of inactivity.

EXT. METROPOLIS - HIGHWAY - DAY

The prison transport threads its way along the wide duracrete highway, making its way past the ultra-modern edifices and the teeming throngs of passersby.

Passing through the heart of the city, the transport then emerges into the suburban areas and then, passing through those, out onto the open highway, which is surrounded by wide open vermilion plains where no buildings can be seen.

INT. PRISON TRANSPORT/PRISONER COMPARTMENT - DAY

Having moved out from between Siri and Ben, Nik and 'Shira are now seated together on Siri's right; the two kids are asleep, with Nashira's head resting peacefully on Anakin's shoulder, allowing the two Jedi Knights to focus their attention on one another without distractions.

OBI-WAN: Where do you think we are, Siri? What luxurious pleasure world do you suppose our hosts have generously taken us to?

SIRI: (smirks) Impossible to tell without knowing more about the environment and terrain. What little we saw of the spaceport when we were unloaded isn't enough to figure out where we are. For all we know, we could be deep inside the Unknown Regions.

OBI-WAN: (regards the walls of the transport) They've incorporated Mandalorian iron into the walls.

SIRI: Looks like an alloy with Mandalorian iron as a component. Not as tough as the pure thing, but still incredibly strong.

OBI-WAN: Making an escape far more difficult.

SIRI: The framework is probably the same, making the armour even stronger.

OBI-WAN: But if we all could establish a rapport, pool our collective power in the Force --

SIRI: (shakes her head) It's not going to happen. Were everyone aboard fully trained adepts, it'd be possible, but most of the prisoners lack experience. There simply isn't enough time to teach them how to coordinate like that.

OBI-WAN: (sighs) I suppose it wouldn't be an advisable course of action, anyway, without knowing more about the world outside. The air could be unbreathable, toxic, or the surface bathed in intense radiation. We could be high up in the sky or deep under an ocean. Breaching the walls of this transport could mean certain death for us.

SIRI: All melodrama aside, you're correct. (beat) Even if we were to make a clean getaway, there's no guarantee the Mandalorians wouldn't be able to track us all down and round us all back up.

OBI-WAN: This is their home ground, they have the advantage. (beat) Perhaps our horizons will broaden once we reach our destination.

EXT. HIGHWAY - SUNSET

After a short number of hours have passed, the transport finally arrives at its destination. Ahead, where the duracrete highway comes to an end, are massive closed doors set into an immense wall that stretches out for kilometres at both ends; this is the entrance into the Mandalorian stronghold which houses the nascent Death Watch army.

As the transport slows down to stop outside the walls of the stronghold, the massive front doors slide open, allowing the minute transport access into the complex within. Its repulsors revving back to life, the prison transport moves forward, passing through the doors into the stronghold.

With the vehicle inside, the doors slide closed and the stronghold becomes impenetrable once again.

EXT. MANDALORIAN COMPLEX - SUNSET

Now past the entrance, it can now be clearly seen that the Mandalorian complex is massive -- the size of a large town -- consisting of numerous hangers and bunkers, all of which have been built around several ancient ruins, including the converted amphitheatre -- with kilometre-long walls enclosing the entire area. Countless Mandalorian warriors and workers can be seeing moving to-and-fro about their business throughout the stronghold.

INT. PRISON TRANSPORT/PRISONER COMPARTMENT - SUNSET

The transport comes to a complete stop, and the prisoners inside immediately take notice of that fact.

SIRI: We've stopped.

EXT. BUNKER 13 - SUNSET

The prison transport has arrived at its final destination -- the entrance leading down into Bunker #13. Waiting for them are fifty armed Mandalorian Knights.

INT. PRISON TRANSPORT/PRISONER COMPARTMENT - SUNSET

The hatch leading out of the vehicle opens, spilling bright light into the dim interior of the compartment. The prisoners all turn towards the light, instantly aware of the Mandalorian Knights who await them beyond.

SIRI: (shaking the sleeping forms of Anakin and Nashira) It's time to wake up.

Groggily, the two children rise from their slumber, and with their Jedi guardians, proceed to join the other prisoners in filing out of the transport.

EXT. BUNKER 13 - SUNSET

The prisoners file out of the transport in single file, taking care to walk at a cautious pace so as not to attract any undue attention from the Mandalorians flanking them on all sides, and proceed to walk towards Bunker 13's entrance, which is merely a large, enclosed turbolift platform.

Once all thirty-three prisoners have been loaded onto the platform, it begins to descend, taking them down into the main complex of the bunker below.

INT. BUNKER 13/ENTRANCE CHAMBER - SUNSET

Moving out from a dark tunnel, the prisoners step into the entrance chamber of the bunker, where even more Mandalorians await them. Octagonal in shape, the walls are close together yet very tall, leading far up to a balcony that encircles the top near the ceiling; standing atop the balcony, looking down upon the prisoners, is the armoured form of Pre Vizsla.

PRE VIZSLA: Welcome, friends, to Dania VII, your new home. All the basic necessities and comforts of life will be provided to you, and you are allowed free reign throughout the complex -- you are not prisoners here, but honoured new arrivals.

ANAKIN: (rolls his eyes) Oh, I'm sure that's the case.

PRE VIZSLA: (cont'd) However, you will have to work hard in service to the Mandalorian cause, and as such, you will have to adhere to the strict schedules and curfews we have put into effect. Any violation of these schedules and curfews will result in severe punishment, so take care not to breach them. (beat) As you all show varying proficiency for the Force, you will all be subdivided and assigned to different levels of the bunker. There you will be among others with power levels equal to your own, making your training easier and reducing the chance of abuse between you. (beat) You all received an injection while in captivity aboard the Nyax, an injection containing a radioactive isotope tailored to mark the level of proficiency you each were identified as having. Please step forward and present yourselves to our doctors so that you may be scanned and assigned to your level. (beat) I trust that in time, you will all come to welcome your place here and join with us in mind and soul as well as in body.

Vizsla turns and leaves the balcony, and the prisoners begin stepping forward to be scanned by their captives for the identifying markers flowing through their veins.

ANAKIN: (turns to Ben) Ben ...

OBI-WAN: We can't fight it, Anakin. We have to do as they say.

ANAKIN: But --

OBI-WAN: Just remember what I've taught you. Don't let them break you down.

NASHIRA: (panicking) No, no, no, no, no! I don't want to leave you! Don't let them take me away from you! Please, Ben, Nik, Siri -- please!

ANAKIN: (grabbing Nashira in a tight hug) I'm not going anywhere, 'Shira. You and me are stuck together like glue.

As that is said, one of the Mandalorians with a scanner steps up to the pair of children.

MANDALORIAN #11: Alright, break it up -- I need to scan you individually.

ANAKIN: (brings Nashira closer to him) Go to hell.

One of the other Mandalorians -- a hardened warrior, not a doctor -- joins the Mandalorian with the scanner, unsheathing a sword and pointing it with threatening malice Anakin's way.

SIRI: Let her go, Anakin. You can't protect her if you're dead.

Reluctantly, Anakin releases Nashira and allows the less menacing Mandalorian to scan them both individually.

MANDALORIAN #11: You both have the same marker. You'll be going to Level 9.

With that, the Mandalorian lowers his scanner and pulls out some sort of sticker gun. Placing it against the front of their shirts, he pulls the trigger, slapping them both with identical white stickers bearing the number "9".

ANAKIN: (turns to Ben) Be seeing you.

The Mandalorians lead Nik and 'Shira off, and the Mandalorian with the scanner refocuses his attention on Siri.

I'm glad you were able to overcome your writer's block--at least temporarily.

My only complaint (which could be considered a fairly big one) is that the dialogue before they arrive at the prison is really clumsy and unnatural. You've had a lot of good dialogue before, but this time it feels too much like the style of the narrative rather than dialogue. Star Wars dialogue in the OT tends to be similarly clumsy or unnaturally wordy like that in places, especially when Leia is speaking, but I think you could improve the flow of it at least a little more.

Looking over it a second time, I think a big problem with it is that you fall into "as you know..." type of dialogue, having Siri and Ben explain things which they would both already know.

Here's a slightly revised version of that dialogue, just to give you a better idea of what in particular seems awkward to me (it isn't the best either, but hopefully it helps):

SIRI: (smirking) Impossible to tell without knowing more about the environment and terrain of this place. What little we saw of the spaceport when we were unloaded isn't enough for us to figure out where we are. For all we know, we're deep inside the Unknown Regions.to indicate where in the galaxy we are. We could be deep inside the Unknown Regions, far from any charted system.

OBI-WAN: (regarding the walls of the transport) They've incorporated Mandalorian iron into the walls of the transport.

SIRI: Looks like [a]n alloy with Mandalorian iron as a component, I'd wager. Not as strong as the pure stuff,  but still incredibly strong.

OBI-WAN: That makes it a bit more difficult to escape. Making a conventional breakout unfeasible.

SIRI: The framework is probably the same way also laced with Mandalorian iron, making the armour even stronger.

OBI-WAN: But if we -- the two of us along with the other prisoners -- could establish a rapport, pool our collective power in the Force --

SIRI: (shaking her head) It's not going to happen. Were everyone aboard a fully trained adept, it'd be possible, but most of the prisoners are too inexperienced, untrained, undisciplined. And [t]here simply isn't enough time to teach them how to coordinate their hearts and minds for such an effort.

OBI-WAN: (sighing) I suppose it wouldn't be an advisable course of action, anyway, without knowing more about the world outside. The air could very well be toxic and unbreathable, or there could be intense radiation. filled with deadly corrosives, toxins, or contagions. The surface could be bathed in intense radiation or teeming with extraordinarily vicious creatures. We could be flying high in the sky, or diving deep under an ocean. Breaching the walls of this transport could mean certain death.

SIRI: All melodrama aside, you're correct. (beat) Even if we were to make a clean getaway, there's no guarantee the Mandalorians wouldn't be able to track us all down and round us all back up.

OBI-WAN: This is their home ground, they have the advantage. (beat) Perhaps our horizons will broaden once we reach our destination.

Thanks for pointing that awkward writing out to me. I suppose weeks of inactivity have left me a little rusty.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 9/CORRIDOR - SUNSET

The captives assigned to Level 9 -- all seventeen of them -- are led down a corridor by ten Death Watchmen, where they are each assigned a set of quarters. As they come to a door labeled "9-75", the head Mandalorian turns to face Anakin and Nashira.

MANDALORIAN #12: (takes hold of Nashira's hand and pulls her toward him) 9-75 will be your quarters.

ANAKIN: (pulls Nashira back to him) She's with me.

MANDALORIAN #12: If you wish to change your lodging arrangements, you can fill out a form and send it to the main office for consideration at any designated rest period. Until then, you'll be staying in the rooms assigned to you.

The Mandalorian pulls Nashira back to him, and when Anakin tries to resist, two other Mandalorians grab him by the shoulders and forcibly hold him back.

MANDALORIAN #12: (opens the door to 9-75) This unit comes stocked with food, has running water, and is equipped with a week's supply of fresh clothes and a refresher unit. Should you run out of food, simply place an order for more and it will be delivered immediately. Should something in your quarters require repairs, that, too, can be requested. Cleaning and laundering, however, is your responsibility.

Nashira simply looks up at the Mandalorian, tears streaming down her face.

NASHIRA: Please don't separate us. I need him.

The Mandalorian looks down at the young girl, and some of the rigid formality leaves him.

MANDALORIAN #12: I'm sorry. (beat) Everything you'll need to know about your upcoming study and training schedules will be found on the datapad provided to you inside. It is important that you read them over tonight, for you'll begin tomorrow morning at first light. (beat) I trust I have made your rights and duties clear you?

Nashira responds with sniffles, and silently steps into the dark quarters. As she turns around, she gives Anakin one final pleading look before closing the door between them.

The Mandalorian turns to regard Anakin, then leads him to the door marked "9-76".

MANDALORIAN #12: As I said, you can fill out a form requesting shared lodging for you and the girl. There shouldn't be any problem getting it done. Until then, you can visit each other during rest periods.

ANAKIN: (opens the door, his face dark with rage) Nothing had better happen to her between now and then.

Fuming, Anakin steps into his quarters, closing it in the Death Watch warrior's face.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 34/CORRIDOR - SUNSET

Obi-Wan and Siri are led down a corridor through Level 34 of the bunker. In sharp contrast to the captives taken to Level 9, the two Jedi are being led roughly to their destination, their arms wrenched violently behind their backs as they are pushed forward by their Mandalorian keepers.

MANDALORIAN #13: Let's put 'em in 34-63 with Primeday Surprise.

As they come to the door marked "34-63", the Mandalorians stop, dragging their captives to a halt. Opening the door to the dim interior beyond, the Mandalorian Knights then push the two Jedi inside, resealing the door behind the disgraced knights with mocking laughter.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 34/UNIT 34-63 - SUNSET

OBI-WAN: It was nice of them to show us the way to our quarters.

SIRI: They'll forgive me if I don't leave a tip.

Brushing themselves off and straightening their disheveled clothing, the two Jedi take in the sight of their new quarters; although very spartan, the unit is clean and tidy, with everything kept in its proper place. Walking deeper into the main room, Siri comes to a small round table, upon with sits a datapad already loaded with a datacard.

SIRI: (picks up and activates the datapad) Here's a list of all the various schedules we're supposed to keep. (scans through the first few pages) I don't understand -- are we supposed to follow the same schedule? There's only this one card, and no alternate schedules are listed.

OBI-WAN: Perhaps new recruits all attend the same inauguration ceremony their first day. After that, we each get our own separate schedules.

SIRI: Perhaps. (deactivates the datapad and sets it back on the table) What was that they said about "Primeday Surprise"?

OBI-WAN: Sounded like a name to me -- a roommate.

Siri walks over to the bedroom, checks it, then walks over to the refresher and checks it, too; no one is in either room.

SIRI: Where do you suppose he, she, or it is at?

OBI-WAN: Perhaps she's training.

SIRI: Shame he couldn't be here to greet us.

FLUTEY VOICE (O.S.): Oh, but I am!

Hearing the voice, the two Jedi spin around to look behind them; there -- standing at the door where no one was standing scant moments before -- is a SHORT FEMALE H'NEMTHE clad in a set of tan coveralls, her three-fingered hands clasped tightly around the head of an ornate ebony cane.

SIRI: (startled) Wha --!

OBI-WAN: (shocked) where did you come from?

FLUTEY VOICE: (looks about the room) Here, there, everywhere. Perhaps nowhere.

The two Jedi exchange glances.

SIRI: Primeday Surprise, I assume?

PRIMEDAY (FLUTEY VOICE): I don't know -- do you?

SIRI: (confused) Excuse me?

PRIMEDAY: Do you assume?

SIRI: (frowns with bewilderment) I suppose ...

PRIMEDAY: Well don't. After all, when you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.

With that, the short H'nemthe walks forward, passing between Siri and Ben, on a course for the refresher. Turning to watch the strange female creature go, the Jedi again exchange glances.

INT. DETENTION CENTRE/ZULL'S CELL - EVENING

Zull sits against the back wall of her cell, facing the door. Her knees drawn up into her chest, she hangs her head low, her eyes closed in silent prayer; she doesn't immediately notice when the door to her cell slides open, allowing Pre Vizsla -- sans helmet and robes -- to step inside.

PRE VIZSLA: Zull.

Hearing his voice, the near-human woman looks up at the Mandalorian warrior, her eyes puffy and stained with shed tears.

PRE VIZSLA: I heard of what you did to put yourself here.

ZULL: Did you?

PRE VIZSLA: I am disappointed in you. What you did to that man wasn't simply barbaric, it was evil. He did nothing to deserve such a cruel, horrific death.

ZULL: Why tell me this? I already know. (beat) I will have to live with what I did.

PRE VIZSLA: Zull, when I came to you, you were blinded to an entire half of the Force. What I had done to you on the Nyax was to clear your vision, to show you the side of the Force that had been closed off to you. But you've only traded in blindness for blindness; you've embraced the darkness, but have discarded the light. (beat) To be whole, you must embrace both sides of the Force. There is a time for rage, but you must never let it oppress you. Temper anger with mercy, hate with pity, despair with hope. Otherwise you will only lose yourself and be consumed by an abyss of your own making.

ZULL: The anger is gone, the hate is gone, but the despair remains. I have nothing left.

PRE VIZSLA: Zull, please stand up.

The fallen priestess looks up at the Mandalorian. She does nothing for a moment, then -- slowly -- rises to her feet. She stands there, her face expressionless but her eyes sorrowful. Reaching to his side, Vizsla withdraws a lightsaber -- the same lightsaber he took from the slain Bpfasshi Dark Jedi -- and hands it to her.

ZULL: A Jedi lightsaber?

PRE VIZSLA: It's a Force-activated lightsaber. The triggering mechanism is built within the casing.

Reaching into the weapon with the Force, Zull engages it. With a soft, burning hiss, the brilliant chartreuse blade extends into existence. Eyes widening with awe, she turns the blade around in the air, listening as it hums and buzzes with each movement.

PRE VIZSLA: There are few so-called darksiders out there who truly reject the light side of the Force in sole favour of the dark. Most who have been branded with the label merely see the Force for what it is and embrace it in its entirety. There are exceptions, however, those who have abandoned the light and allowed the darkness to rule their lives, to consume their very souls. The owner of this weapon was one such exception. He refused to acknowledge the light, and paid the ultimate price for his lack of vision.

Zull stops playing with the lightsaber and her eyes fall upon Vizsla, her green-gold irises glowing as the burning yellow-green light of the lightsaber reflects in them.

ZULL: I could take this weapon and kill you now. Not even you could avoid the blow from this distance.

PRE VIZSLA: (nods) That is true. You could kill me now and have your final revenge. (beat) But you don't want to. You are tired of how the rage and hatred has blinded you, tired of how it has taken hold of everything you are and twisted it into a diseased mockery.

ZULL: (a tear running from her eye) Yes.

PRE VIZSLA: Zull, I have done you wrong, but I can still help you. I can help you out of this. Come with me, be my apprentice, and help me to help you find the light again.

Crying, Zull lowers the lightsaber, deactivating it. Gently, Vizsla draws her to him, wrapping his arms around her as she rests her head on his shoulder. Her arms, along with the deactivated lightsaber, now sit pinned between them.

PRE VIZSLA: I love you, Zull.

Zull says nothing, and merely cries silently into his shoulder. Closing his eyes, Vizsla begins to dance slowly, creating a slow waltz with the Meketrex woman in his arms.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 9/UNIT 9-75/BEDROOM - EVENING

Nashira lies atop her bed, turning about uneasily in her sleep. She moans and groans fitfully, her brow slick with sweat.

ZOOM IN

on Nashira as the darkness of the room closes in on her, forming an opaque blackness which surrounds her like dark light.

Suddenly, dozens of arms coalesce from that darkness and fall onto her, seizing her in vice-like grips. Her eyes fling open, wide with terror. From above, an amorphous shape bulges down from the Darkness above her, coming to hover right before her face. The shapeless bulge contorts, gaining definition, until it forms a skull-like face with blazing white eyes.

THE DARKNESS: Luuz, rekcufrehtom, luuz!

As Nashira releases a blood-curdling scream, the lipless mouth of the skull-like head transmogrifies into a proboscis, which then -- like a torrent of black liquid -- flows down into her mouth, choking off her shriek with a harsh gurgle. Air cut off from her lungs, Nashira begins to thrash violently against the limbs restraining her, but she cannot break free of their oppressive grasp.

It is then that Anakin, like an angel in the night, materializes out from thin air. Lunging forward, he seizes the nightmarish head of the Darkness and, grimacing, pulls it back with all the strength he can mustre. With a hideous sucking sound, he peels the entity away from Nashira and tosses it away from her.

THE DARKNESS: Luuz, rekcuf --

Before the Darkness can finish its mantra, Anakin holds up his arm, and an engaged lightsaber manifests within his hand. Swinging the azure blade, he lops the Darkness' head off and it drops away, dissipating into nothingness.

NASHIRA: (panicking) Nik!

Turning back to Nashira, Anakin goes to work hacking away the black limbs which pin the girl down to her bed. Once they have all been dealt with, Nik grabs her by the hand and hauls her up off the bed and to his side.

ANAKIN: How's about we get out of here?

NASHIRA: Where to?

ANAKIN: Anywhere.

Swinging his lightsaber, Anakin cuts right through the inky blackness surrounding them, revealing a blinding white light beyond. With Nashira at his side, he plunges into the rip, leaving the Darkness behind.

EXT. WHITE VOID (DREAMSCAPE)

Nik and 'Shira now find themselves standing within a perfectly white void. Looking down at the lightsaber in his hand, Anakin releases it, and is dissolves away as it never was.

NASHIRA: What the hell was that!?

ANAKIN: A bad dream.

NASHIRA: You mean --

ANAKIN: Yep. You're asleep, dreaming, and I'm in here with you.

NASHIRA: Does that mean you're --

ANAKIN: No, I'm real.

NASHIRA: How is that possible?

ANAKIN: Obi-Wan called it a rapport. A sort of mind-link Jedi can do with other people who are open to it.

NASHIRA: How did you know I was in trouble?

ANAKIN: (grins) Are you really asking me that? I knew you'd be an emotional mess without any friends to keep you company.

Nashira then seizes Anakin in a fierce hug, squeezing him tightly as her lips part in a massive grin.

NASHIRA: Oh, thank you, Anakin! Thank you! I needed you, and you came! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

ANAKIN: (eyes bulging) Take it easy, kid! You'll bruise me like a Rrakis grape!

'Shira releases the young man, but continues to beam at him.

ANAKIN: (looks about their surroundings) While a damn sight better than where we came from, this place is kind of bland and boring. You think we should go somewhere more lively?

NASHIRA: Where?

ANAKIN: How about your homeworld? I've never been to Orron III, and I wouldn't mind checking it out.

NASHIRA: Orron III? But it's just an agricultural world -- there's nothing much there.

ANAKIN: (gestures at the whiteness surrounding them) There's less than nothing here. (grins) C'mon, we'll make it fun.

NASHIRA: (smiles sheepishly) Oh, alright ...

Nashira then closes her eyes and concentrates. After a moment passes, the void surrounding them fades away, replaced with a vast landscape of grain situated under a clear, sunny sky.

ANAKIN: Race ya?

NASHIRA: Yeah!

At that, the two children take off into a run, laughing wildly as they race through the tall stalks of grain.

FADE TO

Nashira asleep peacefully in her bed in her room, a smile on her lips.

EXT. SPACE

Out in some region of deep, rarely-traversed space, a ship drops out of hyperspace. This ship is the Deliverer, a Venator-class star defender; a hastily-recommissioned junker that was retired before the end of the Second Clone War, it still bears the colours of the old Republic Navy along with many of the battle scars acquired during its last, long-forgotten fight.

From the open docking bay of the star defender come dozens of hyperspace jump pods, all containing dormant probe droids. Falling away from their mothership, they scatter in all directions, each leaping into hyperspace towards a different region of the galaxy.

INT. DELIVERER/BRIDGE

Within the ramshackle bridge of the Deliverer, Admiral Bail Organa of Alderaan sits at his post upon the command chair, his left arm in a heavy cast and a determined expression set hard on his face. Standing at his side is, as always, Commander Raia Vaness.

BAIL: Ensign Wessel, report.

Ensign Wessel -- a short, slim Devaronian -- pivots around in his seat to face the admiral.

ENS. WESSEL: Pods are away, Admeeral.

Bail simply nods in reply, then presses a button set in the arm of his chair.

BAIL: What's the word, Bonney? Can we make another jump soon?

INT. DELIVERER/ACCESS TUBE

Within one the ship's many access tubes, Bonney, the ship's engineer, is busy working on repairing damaged connections responsible for the operation of the star defender's hyperdrive. A lanky lepi with big feet and hands, blue-green fur, long, drooping ears, and prominent buck teeth, he's a comical sight to behold.

BONNEY: You're gonna have to hold your eopies again, Bail. This clunker's not going anywhere for at least nine hours and a half.

INT. DELIVERER/BRIDGE

BAIL: I thought you'd've reached 47% efficiency by now.

INT. DELIVERER/ACCESS TUBE

BONNEY: By the Holy Hutch, man, I'm an engineer, not a Sorcerer of Tund! It's a royal mess in here! When those bloody 'Wrights made sure the hyperdrive was functional, that's all they made sure of -- they didn't bother checking to see if any of the connections or circuits responsible for synching the hyperdrive to the main computer themselves were in order. It'll take me another week before I've made enough repairs to get her working at even half the peak of efficiency.

INT. DELIVERER/BRIDGE

BAIL: (sighs) Alright, Bonney, I'll leave you to your work.

Bail presses the button in his chair arm, severing the connection with Bonney.

CMDR. VANESS: Another long wait, I see.

BAIL: When I asked for this assignment, I assumed they were going to take me seriously. But what do they do? They stick us with a decaying old star defender that was decommissioned seventeen years ago, a star defender that can barely limp its way through hyperspace.

CMDR. VANESS: Resources are spread thin, Bail. With the Light Hammer undergoing repairs in drydock, this was the best they could supply us in such short order. Considering how low the importance of this endeavour is, it's a miracle they gave us this much.

BAIL: Tachi is out there somewhere, along with Lord knows how many others. The Mandalorians are up to something, and they have to be stopped before it's too late. If that's low importance, I do not want to know how bad things have to be to be considered high importance!

CMDR. VANESS: Bail, even if we were in a top-of-the-line cruiser with the highest rated hyperdrive available, we'd still be blindly searching the Outer Rim in the hope of stumbling upon the Mandalorians' hidden base of operations. It's a needle in a light-years-large haystack.

BAIL: They're out there somewhere, Raia, and I don't care if I have to go straight out into the Unknown Regions to find them, I'll get it done. (beat) I owe it to our people.

Vaness doesn't respond to this. The pain of losing so many of her crewmates aboard the Light Hammer is as evident on her face as it is on Bail's.

Well, it's official -- this script is now longer than my last completed Ep. I rewrite, and I'm only about halfway done, give-or-take. This is definately shaping up to be a long script.

If this were to be filmed, I wonder how long the runtime of it would be.

FADE TO

The wedge-shaped form of the Deliverer sitting motionless in the star-studded depths of space.

Without warning, we pull away from the star defender, and at velocities greater than the speed of light, we begin to travel through this sector of the galaxy. In a span of moments, we visit over sixteen different systems, each with worlds exotic and unique, before finally coming to Dania VII, home of the Mandalorian Death Watch.

INT. DANIA VII - TRAINING CENTRE 25 - DAY

Inside Training Centre 25 -- a spacious, one-room building -- various residents of Level 9 have come for their day's training session. All twelve students are sitted crossed-legged upon the stone floor, their instructor -- an unarmoured human female -- sitting before them, watching them intently.

Before each of the students sits a crystal sphere, hollow and half-filled with a pearlescent liquid. Their eyes closed, they concentrate on the spheres. Many succeed in making the colours within the liquid glow, while others manage to get the liquid to bubble or slosh around inside; only two, however, are able to go beyond that.

As Anakin and a MALE TOYDARIAN concentrate on their spheres, not only do they succeed at making the pearlescent liquid glow and move about, but they manage to form three-dimensional shapes -- cubes, spheres, pyramids -- within them. The Mandalorian instructor, noticing this impressive display of talent from them both, smiles with pleasure.

INSTRUCTOR #1: (raises an arm) Alright, everyone, relax your concentration. That'll be all for the day.

The students all open their eyes, and the liquid within their spheres goes still. Standing up, the instructor walks over to Nik and the Toydarian. With a smile, she gestures for them to get up, and they quickly rise to their feet or -- in the Toydarian's case -- their wings.

INSTRUCTOR #1: I am very pleased with your progress so far, students. You are all progressing wonderfully. Orowi and Anakin even managed to form simple shapes within their spheres today. Keep this up, and you'll all upgrade to Level 10 before the year is out. (beat) I'll see you all Zhellday.

As the other students rise up and proceed to file out of the centre, Nik and Orowi turn to acknowledge one another.

ANAKIN: You're getting good with the meditation spheres, Orowi. I'm starting to get envious.

OROWI: (astonished) You're getting envious? It took me five months to get this far, but you've only been here four weeks and you're already good at it. If anyone's envious, it's me of you, not the other way around.

ANAKIN: (laughs) But it comes easier for you. I have to concentrate a full minute before I can get a simple cube to take shape.

Together, Nik and his Toydarian friend follow the other students out of Training Centre 25. One of the other students -- a tall Abyssin -- stands off to the side, however, watching them as they go with his single eye narrowed with loathing.

EXT. TRAINING CENTRE 25 - DAY

Stepping out of the training centre, Nik and Orowi make their way towards Bunker 13.

OROWI: Want to go to the recreation centre? You still owe me for letting you win that last dejarik game we played.

ANAKIN: (smirks) Letting me win, you say? What a recollection you have.

OROWI: Well, we Toydarians are noted for our impeccable holographic memory.

ANAKIN: (laughs) Really? I thought it was your shrewd business sense everyone knew you for.

OROWI: That, too.

ANAKIN: Of course, of course. I knew that -- really, I did. (beat) I'd love to take you up on your offer, but I'm expected back. Nashira and I are having dinner with Ben and Siri tonight.

OROWI: Ah, yes, your two Jedi friends.

ANAKIN: It's been two weeks since we were able to meet up with them last. We've been looking forward to it. (beat) You can join us if you want. There'll be enough for five.

OROWI: Sure. (beat) It won't be any trouble, will it?

ANAKIN: No, of course not. Why ask a laserbrained question like that?

OROWI: Well ...

ANAKIN: Well what?

OROWI: Well ... to be honest, I don't know how I feel about socializing with Jedi.

ANAKIN: Hey, I'm a Jedi!

OROWI: You wish. (beat) It's not that I have any real problem with Jedi. It's just that I don't know how the Mandies will take it.

ANAKIN: What are you getting at?

OROWI: They say we have free reign of the place and can see who we want to see, but I can't help but feel that they don't like Jedi associating with their less "enlightened" students.

ANAKIN: You think they might do something if they catch you talking to a Jedi?

OROWI: The Jedi and Mandies are virtually blood enemies, Nik, they loathe each other. The Mandalorians can't stand the idea of any of their new recruits getting tainted with Jedi philosophies.

ANAKIN: Those Jedi are also recruits.

OROWI: Not like us, though, not at all. The Mandies don't treat them like they treat us. We're treated almost like royalty. They, however, don't get anywhere near the same amount of luxury. While we spend our time meditating over crystal balls, they have to deal with hard labour, heckling, humiliation, even physical abuse. (beat) The Mandalorians use the carrot to get us onto their side, but with the Jedi, they use the stick -- the hard, heavy, pointed stick.

Anakin shrugs in reply, and the two continue on their way in silence. Before they can get very far, however, the Abyssin who eyed them back at the training centre moves up on them from behind, grabbing them by the shoulders and pulling them to a stop.

ANAKIN: Wha --!

OROWI: Gurkan!

Twisting around, the two friends come face-to-face with the Abyssin named Gurkan. With sinister glee, he grins a hideously toothy grin.

GURKAN: What a surprise to meet you here, my dear friends. What brings you out this way?

ANAKIN: We're going back to Bunker 13, same as you.

OROWI: And we're not your friends, cyclops.

The Abyssin's grin falters, but only for a moment.

GURKAN: You wound me, Toydarian. (turns to Anakin) But you still appreciate my company, don't you, Skywalker?

ANAKIN: (nonplussed) What do you want, Gurkan?

GURKAN: Just to chat, see how things are, and all that jizz.

ANAKIN: Well, neither of us have anything to say to you, so if you don't mind --

GURKAN: (dropping his phony grin) Are you saying you don't want to be my friend?

ANAKIN: No, it's not that. I wouldn't mind being your friend -- if you weren't a complete jerk. But unfortunately, you are a complete jerk.

GURKAN: Very well, then, we aren't friends.

ANAKIN: I'm so very glad we got that cleared up.

GURKAN: (his grin reappearing) So, how's your pretty girlfriend?

ANAKIN: She's fine, and she's not my girlfriend.

GURKAN: That hasn't stopped you from living together.

ANAKIN: When we got here, she was emotionally unstable and I was the only person she knew who was also staying on Level 9. I chose to stay with her to keep her company and keep her safe.

GURKAN: That hasn't stopped you from sticking your hydrospanner in her sockets, has it?

ANAKIN: (angry) She's only eleven, you disgusting pig.

GURKAN: Which makes it all the more sweet, doesn't it? The younger they are, the firmer they are, and the firmer they are, how oh so more --

Before the Abyssin can complete his sentence, Anakin's rage boils over, and he gives in to it. Growling like a ferocious beast, he lunges at the cyclopean creature more than twice his height and tackles him to the ground. Before the Abyssin can catch his bearings, the human begins to rain blow upon blow upon him, punching him fiercely in the face. Within scant seconds, dark Abyssin blood begins to fly through the air.

OROWI: Nik! Nik, that's enough now! Let him up!

Anakin doesn't hear his friend. His face red with rage, he continues to pummel Gurkan, who finally goes completely limp.

OBI-WAN: (O.S.) Anakin!

Upon hearing the voice of his master, Anakin snaps out of his rage and stops. Twisting his head around, he sees both Ben and Siri standing a ways away from him.

OBI-WAN: Anakin, what are you doing?!

ANAKIN: (stammering) I-I-I ...

His mouth going agape, Anakin turns back to look down upon Gurkan, who lies bloody and unconscious beneath him. Unable to say a word, he simply rises to his feet, looking down upon his bested foe.

ANAKIN: (to Obi-Wan) He's alright, isn't he? I didn't really hurt him, did I?

Obi-Wan and Siri walk up to Anakin, Orowi, and Gurkan, and the latter crouches down beside the Abyssin, laying her fingertips down upon his forehead.

SIRI: The Abyssin's alive. You knocked him out, but I don't sense any major injury.

ANAKIN: I didn't want to hurt him, but what he said about Nashira and me ... it was sick ... I couldn't take that from him ... I couldn't take ... what he said ...

OBI-WAN: (rests his hand on Nik's shoulder) It's alright, Anakin, we'll worry about it later. Let's just get to Nashira.

As one, the three Jedi and the Toydarian depart, leaving Gurkan lying in the dust.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 9/ANAKIN & NASHIRA'S QUARTERS/KITCHEN - DAY

Nashira is busy preparing a meal on small stove when the door into the main room slides open and Obi-Wan, Siri, Anakin, and Orowi come sauntering in. Turning to face him, she sees the grim expressions on all of their faces, and her face in turn goes stoney.

NASHIRA: What's happened?

SIRI: Anakin got into a fight with an Abyssin.

OROWI: Gurkan.

Hearing that, Nashira rushes over to Anakin and takes his face in her hands, cradling it worriedly.

NASHIRA: Oh, Nik, are you okay?

ANAKIN: Yes ... yeah, I'm fine, 'Shira. Just fine.

Pushing past her, he walks over to the main round table and props down in a seat behind it, where he proceeds to massage his left temple.

NASHIRA: (turning to the others) Why did he get into a fight with Gurkan?

OROWI: Gurkan made some rather ... unflattering comments regarding the relationship between the two of you.

NASHIRA: (dumbfounded) Anakin and me? But we're just friends.

OROWI: Gurkan's a straight-up bastard. He can't sleep at night without spewing trash in other peoples' faces.

NASHIRA: But Nik's okay, right? Gurkan didn't hurt him.

OBI-WAN: (grave) No, Nashira, Gurkan didn't hurt him.

NASHIRA: (relieved) Well, that's good then, right? He could have if he really wanted to.

OBI-WAN: (cont'd) Anakin hurt him.

NASHIRA: (narrows her eyes) You're not serious.

OBI-WAN: Dead serious.

OROWI: Nik really wailed on him -- beat the living pus out of the monocular bastard.

SIRI: He could have killed him if we hadn't arrived when we did.

Her mouth agape, Nashira turns to face Nik.

ANAKIN: Are they on the level, Anakin?

ANAKIN: (shakes his head wearily) Yeah, yeah, it happened like they say.

Nashira then walks over to Anakin and, sitting down beside him, puts her hands down over one of his.

NASHIRA: Is he gonna be alright?

ANAKIN: Siri said so.

NASHIRA: (smiles) Then there's nothing to worry about.

Obi-Wan's mouth drops open upon hearing those words.

OBI-WAN: (incredulous) Excuse me?

NASHIRA: (turns to Ben) Nik didn't really hurt him. I mean he didn't hurt him bad enough to put him in the infirmary.

OBI-WAN: That's beside the point, Nashira. He let his anger get the best of him -- he opened himself to the dark side. Don't you realize how dangerous that can be?

NASHIRA: (rolls her eyes) Oh, not this again.

OBI-WAN: (stepping towards Nik and 'Shira) You may not believe in the dark side, Nashira, but it is very real and very present and Anakin is exposed to it. If he continues to let his anger slip, it will bring him in tune with the darkness and eventually corrupt his soul.

NASHIRA: (frowns) Gurkan's a bully and a pig. He got what he deserved. (turns back to Anakin, her frown turning to a smile) Besides, Anakin did it for me because I'm his friend. How can that be dark?

Obi-Wan, realizing nothing he can say will ever be able to break through Nashira's childish naiveté, goes silent, pursing his lips in indignation.

INT. BUNKER 13/LEVEL 34/OBI-WAN, SIRI, & PRIMEDAY'S QUARTERS/MAIN ROOM - TWILIGHT

Hours later, Ben and Siri return to their quarters on Level 34. Opening their door, they step inside to find Primeday Surprise sitting in wait for them at the small round table. Together, the two Jedi walk over and plop themselves down on the couch sitting to the right side of the H'nemthe.

PRIMEDAY: Have a good time? How was your meal?

SIRI: It was very good, Primeday. You should have joined us.

PRIMEDAY: (waves her hand dismissively) They weren't serving my dish.

OBI-WAN: You can't eat Primeday Surprise every day -- that's why it's called "Primeday Surprise", not "Everyday Surprise".

PRIMEDAY: Each day is Primeday if you think beyond the three dimensions.

SIRI: Primeday, it isn't good to eat the same thing all day everyday. You get sick without a balanced diet.

PRIMEDAY: Bah! More three-dimensional thinking! A diet of Primeday Surprise is a balanced diet.

OBI-WAN: Not in this universe.

PRIMEDAY: Exactly! Now you begin to understand!

Ben and Siri exchange glances.

SIRI: Do you?

OBI-WAN: Ask me when I'm less than sober.

PRIMEDAY: Anyhow, I put some tea on the stove for you. Go have some if you feel like it.

SIRI: That sounds like a good idea. Thank you, Primeday.

Siri enters the kitchen, walks over to a cabinet, opens it up, then reaches in to retrieve a hard plastic cup.

SIRI: Will you be having any, Obi-Wan?

OBI-WAN: That depends. (turns to Primeday) What type of tea is it?

PRIMEDAY: (smiles) It varies.

OBI-WAN: Clear, concise, and to the point as always. (to Siri) Make me one, anyway.

Siri retrieves the two cups and then saunters over to the stove. When she reaches for the kettle, however, she finds that not only is the burner not on, but there is no kettle upon it at all.

SIRI: There is no tea.

PRIMEDAY: Pardon?

SIRI: (gestures toward the bare stovetop) The stovetop, Primeday, there's no tea on it. It's completely bare.

PRIMEDAY: (sighs) It is there, Siri, just not here and now.

Hearing this, Obi-Wan facepalms. The H'nemthe notices this action, and it doesn't please her one bit.

PRIMEDAY: (gestures towards him with her cane) I saw that, Ben Kenobi, don't think I didn't!

Slowly pulling his hand away, Obi-Wan merely stares at this strange non-human woman.

PRIMEDAY: (fuming) Always -- always -- you disregard my wisdom! Condescend to me like you would a child and regard me with all the affection of a serpent, you do! Well, I am not going to stomach it any longer! (rises to her feet) I'll be going to bed early! Goodnight!

SIRI: (resigned) But Primeday --

PRIMEDAY: (throws up her hand) I say goodnight!

With that, Primeday walks away into the single bedroom. Not a minute later, the sound of her gentle snoring can be heard coming from within.

SIRI: (sighs) I'm going to put on some tea myself. You still want some?

OBI-WAN: Not really, no. Primeday's killed my thirst.

Retrieving the kettle, Siri fills it with water and then puts it on the stove burner. Turning away from the stove, she walks over to Ben and sits down beside him on the couch.

SIRI: It's still getting to you, isn't it? What happened with Anakin?

OBI-WAN: Of course -- shouldn't it? He is my apprentice, and it is my job to see that he learns the proper ways to channel the Force.

SIRI: But it's hard, isn't it?

OBI-WAN: Yes, it is. He's exposed to Vizsla's teachings every day, but I can only be there for him for a couple of hours, and only on a day or two a week. It's impossible to train him as a Jedi under these circumstances. Perhaps if we'd had more time together before we were captured, if he had received more training ...

SIRI: If he had been selected for training at a younger age, you mean.

OBI-WAN: Yes, I suppose. (beat) And then there's Nashira. (beat) She needed him at the time, and I'm glad that he was there for her, but I'm starting to think that she may turn out to be a bad influence on him.

SIRI: Yes, I see what you mean. She's ignorant of the dark side. She coddles Anakin when she should be rebuking him.

OBI-WAN: She's only a child, and she's never known the Jedi way, so I don't hold it again her. But she and Anakin have grown close, and they are growing closer. (beat) I don't think Anakin's emotionally dependant on her -- not like she is on him -- and so I don't think he's ... become enslaved to her -- her whims, her opinions. But that could change in the future. If he hasn't learned to discipline himself by then, if he hasn't learned to resist the dark side, then God help us.

SIRI: (sighs) This is why it's easier for us.

OBI-WAN: (confused) Easier? Easier for whom? What are you talking about?

SIRI: I was talking about the Coruscanti Order. (beat) It is easier for us because we train our children from infancy, build them up from the beginning to be resistant to the dark side, and keep them from being reared alongside those who hold to beliefs contrary to the Jedi Creed.

OBI-WAN: (laughs incredulously) I don't believe it.

SIRI: (frowns) What?

OBI-WAN: You're proselytizing me -- giving me a sermon on the blessed virtues of the Coruscanti Order. (beat) You should hear yourself.

SIRI: Well, you have to admit that if Anakin had been discovered at a young age and reared by us, he never would have grown up vulnerable to the temptations surrounding him now.

OBI-WAN: No, instead he would have grown up to believe that he was some sort of chosen one -- a demigod superior to everyone who wasn't blessed with the gift of becoming a Jedi Knight.

SIRI: (angry) That isn't what we believe at all. That isn't what I believe at all.

OBI-WAN: Then enlighten me, Siri.

SIRI: Non-Jedi are not evil and they aren't inferior. However, their philosophies often run contrary to Jedi doctrine. Exposing nascent Jedi to these philosophies could skew their outlook on the Force, poison their minds against the Jedi way and lead them on the path to the dark side. Isolating our children from non-Jedi until they are of a discerning age only serves to remove stumbling blocks from the straight and narrow path that is our way of life.

OBI-WAN: That may be all well and good for the children born into the Order -- children who have friends and family who are also Jedi. But what of those Jedi who weren't born into the Coruscanti Order -- those who came from non-Jedi families? Why must they be denied the love and companionship of their mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters for the sake of a "straight and narrow path" that they weren't of discerning age to choose for themselves in the first place?

SIRI: Personal sacrifices must often be made for the greater good. That is a fact implicit in the Jedi Code.

OBI-WAN: Ah, yes, the Jedi Code: "There is no emotion; there is peace. There is no ignorance; there is knowledge. There is no passion; there is serenity. There is no death; there is the Force". (beat) You are aware of the history behind the Code, aren't you?

SIRI: Of course. Any Jedi worth his or her salt knows the history of the Jedi Code.

OBI-WAN: Then you know that the Jedi Code wasn't originally a code at all, but a surviving fragment of an unpublished volume written by the Jedi master Odan-Uur which was destroyed in the Great Sith War. Divorced from its original context, the Jedi Code was only codified as such centuries after the fact, in the wake of the Kunist Insurrection. Therefore the words of the Jedi Code -- and the message behind those words -- are completely open to interpretation.

SIRI: In your opinion, that may be true. But Coruscanti tradition teaches that there is a plain, straightforward reading of the Code which has been made clear to us.

OBI-WAN: Then I'm thankful that the Coruscanti tradition is not the only Jedi tradition available to choose from.

EXT. TATOOINE - DESERT - DAY (DREAMSCAPE)

On a vast, flat, wide-open desert plain, a figure attired in the garb of a Tusken Raider rides alone atop his bantha mount, the wind of the suns-scorched planet whipping his robes about him.

As he rides on, the incredible heat increases, and the bantha begins to pant heavily, it's already slow gait becoming positively sluggish. In moments, the heavy panting turns to harsh wheezing, and before the Tusken can prepare himself, his mount collapses, throwing him off violently.

The Sand Person lands face-first on the sand, but is unharmed. Groaning, he pushes himself up and rises back to his feet. As he turns to face his fallen bantha, he watches as it suddenly dries up -- mummifying instantly -- before crumbling to dust. Sighing despondently, the Raider turns away from where his dead mount was and continues on his way.

As the Tusken makes his way along the sand, he, too, begins to pant harshly, the unholy heat of his environment penetrating his protective coverings and seeping through into his body underneath.

FEMALE VOICE: (O.C.) You have reached the end of your journey, weary traveller. Discard your robes.

TUSKEN: (confused) What?

FEMALE VOICE: (O.C.) Discard your robes.

TUSKEN: What!? No! If I do that, I'll die!

FEMALE VOICE: No, you won't. You will be protected. (beat) Discard your robes.

Reluctantly, the Sand Person decides to obey the disembodied voice. He strips off his robes, unravels his head coverings, and removes his protective goggles and filter mask, revealing that he is actually Anakin underneath. Immediately, his skin begins to smoulder under the furnace heat surrounding him.

ANAKIN: (in pain) Oh, God! The heat! The heat! It's burning me! It's burning me!

FEMALE VOICE: (O.S.) Have faith -- you will be delivered.

With those words, Anakin's surroundings begin to change. From out of nowhere, blood-red clouds begin to fill the clear sky of Tatooine, blocking out the suns for the first time in uncounted eons. The heavy red clouds then release their burden, and a torrential rain of blood begins to fall from the overcast sky, hitting the thirsty sands of Tatooine with the force of liquid bullets. As each drop of blood is eagrely absorbed into the arid earth, red vegetation sprouts from where they fell, growing and spreading rapidly with unbridled ferocity. As the vegetation spreads across the face of the desert, the rains comes to an end, leaving the once-desolate landscape transformed into a vibrant red rainforest.

ANAKIN: (astonished) What?

FEMALE VOICE: (O.S.) Turn around, dear one.

Hearing the voice immediately behind him, Anakin spins around. There, standing before him, is a woman; tall with bronze skin, she is attired in only the scantest of translucent garments, her entire face concealed behind a veil. Behind her, towering over them both like a dark god from a lost age, is an immense pyramid of black basalt.

BRONZE PRIESTESS: (gestures for him to follow) Come. Follow me inside.

Turning around, she walks into the pyramid's open entrance and vanishes from sight, merging with the black edifice's ebon interior. With hesitation and fear, but also too much curiosity, Anakin follows after her into the towering pyramid.

INT. PYRAMID/ENTRANCE TUNNEL - DAY (DREAMSCAPE)

Cautiously, Anakin makes his way through the tight tunnel. Though the tunnel is pitch black, there is a bright white light waiting for him at the end.

INT. PYRAMID/WHITE ROOM - DAY (DREAMSCAPE)

Anakin enters the room at the end of the tunnel, and finds it filled with a blinding, sourceless white light. In the centre of the room, standing on end before the mysterious bronze-skinned woman -- is a sarcophagus carved elaborately out of semi-luminescent pearlwood.

BRONZE PRIESTESS: (turns to Anakin) Open it.

ANAKIN: Excuse me?

BRONZE PRIESTESS: (a hint of anger in her voice) Open it.

Shrugging, Anakin steps forward, passing her and walking up to the sarcophagus. Reaching forward, he grasps the lid of the sarcophagus and, with visible strain, pulls it away. Inching the lid away from the rest of the sarcophagus, he pushes it forward, allowing it to fall to the floor away from him, then turns to regard the contents of the sarcophagus.

Though centuries dead, the desiccated corpse within the sarcophagus is unmistakably Anakin's.

Recoiling in horror, Anakin spins around to face the strange woman who led him into this place. Lunging forward, he grabs hold of her veil and pulls it off; there, her eyes glowing a preternatural yellow and her black lips spread wide in a hideous rictus grin, is the face of Nashira.

ANAKIN: Nashira!

BRONZE PRIESTESS: Hello, lover.

Lunging forward, this horrifically beautiful woman with Nashira's face grabs Anakin by his. Pulling him to her, she opens her mouth and a long, teal-black tongue covered in tiny razor-sharp teeth darts out. Bringing her tongue upward, she licks him across the face, splitting the flesh of it wide open.

INT. DANIA VII - BUNKER 13/LEVEL 9/ANAKIN & NASHIRA'S QUARTERS/MAIN ROOM - EVENING

Anakin wakes up on the sofa to find Nashira sitting over him, her lips pressed down over his in a kiss. Horrified, he shoots upright in bed, pushing her violently away from him. She falls backward onto the floor, landing hard on her backside.

NASHIRA: (angry) What did you do that for?

Anakin can't answer. All he can do is stare at her, breathing heavily with fear from the terrifying nightmare he just experienced.

EXT. RAINFOREST - DAY

Zull races through the heart of Dania VII's untouched rainforest, running with the grace and speed of an agile gazelle. To cope with the humid climate of the forest, she has traded in her black bodysuit for a pair of tan shorts and tank top, allowing the sweat on her toned arms, legs, and midriff to glisten under the sunlight. Through all the hard work she is putting her body through, her breathing remains calm and even.

Soon, she breaks through the trees and comes to the edge of a ravine. Taking a great leap, she lands on a dead log sitting on the edge of the ravine then catapults herself high up into the air, taking her across the ravine to the other side. Hitting the ground feet-first, she somersaults across the red-orange grass then springs back up, taking off into a run again.

Entering a thick cover of trees, Zull takes a running leap and scampers up one of the thick trunks until she comes to the first thick branch. She then proceeds to jump tree-to-tree, using the Force to guide her to the safest landing point on each massive plant.

Reaching the last of the towering red-brown trees, the former Meketrex priestess finds herself looking down into a sheltered gully, within which stand black basalt ruins. Taking out her lightsaber, she ignites it and uses it to cut one end of a thick vine from the tree. Then, deactivating the lightsaber and replacing it on her person, she takes hold of the vine and launches herself off the tree, swinging all the way down to the gully below.

Once she reaches a safe distance, she releases the vine and allows herself to free-fall the rest of the way down. Using the Force, she directs herself to a large pond, and with a large splash, she lands. Rising up out of the water with the grace of a swan, she makes her way out of the pond and begins walking toward the nearest ruin.

PRE VIZSLA: (O.S.) You've arrived. I'm glad you could make it, Zull.

Turning toward the sound of the voice, she finds Vizsla seated up on a half-crumbled stone wall. Like Zull, he has ditched his Mandalorian regalia for more convenient clothing -- in his case, a simple pair of brown pants; his naked torso bears countless scars from countless battles.

PRE VIZSLA: (cont'd) It's exhilarating, isn't it? The sounds of the animals and the water rushing, the smells of the flowers and wet earth, the feel of the grass and soil under your feet, the flow of the wild air passing over you -- this is what it means to be in tune with all living things, to be one with the living Force. It is here where you find the divine; not in a sterile academy or a closed-in temple, but in nature, where life exists open and unchained.

ZULL: (closes her eyes and breathes in deep) I can feel the Breath flow through this place. It is incredibly strong here.

PRE VIZSLA: These ruins were built thousands of years ago by a race of powerful magi allied with the Force. When they were pristine and new, these buildings served as focusing lenses, conduits for the Force. Even now, long after the builders have died away and their magnificent works crumbled into dust, sites like these still retain their power.

ZULL: Is that why you're here?

PRE VIZSLA: (nods) I found this world a long time ago, when I was still a Jedi and an apprentice to my mistress. Even then, I recognized the significant this world held, and when I joined forces with Death Watch, it was I who suggested we make this our capital.

ZULL: You were a Jedi?

PRE VIZSLA: A lifetime ago, yes.

ZULL: You never told me that.

PRE VIZSLA: I'd never got around to telling you before now. (stands up) Let me join you, and I can tell you the rest.

Crouching down slightly, Vizsla leaps off the wall, landing beside Zull. They then begin to walk on towards one of the ruined temples.

PRE VIZSLA: I was born seventy-four years ago on the third moon of Abdju, before the Clone Wars, back when the Empire was still the Republic. (beat) As a child, I was often sick. My parents tried their best to take care of me, but they were poor farmers on a poor world ... they couldn't do much. All they could do was pray, and that was what they did -- when I was burning with fever, when I was vomiting from nausea, they prayed. (beat) Then one day, their prayers were answered; from the heart of the Republic came a Jedi, a knight working on behalf of the Acquisition Division of the Coruscanti Order. She came to my village, and there she discovered me -- a small boy of six, weak and sick to the point of death. (beat) Normally, the Coruscanti Jedi do not accept children over five years of age for training, but an exception was made in my case as I didn't have much time left to me. (beat) So, in the hands of my new teacher, I was taken from Abdju III, taken from my parents, and brought to one of the Inner Rim worlds, where I was immediately placed into medical care and nursed to full health.

ZULL: It sounds to me that without their intervention, you would have died. Why do you hate the Jedi so much?

PRE VIZSLA: When I was separated from my parents, I doubt either of them truly knew what that meant. My mistress had made it clear to them that the Order didn't accept older children into their ranks, but she had failed to mention that once children were taken away for training, they were never allowed to see their parents again. There was to be no sending of letters or transmissions -- no communication or contact of any kind.

ZULL: Didn't you try to contact them anyway?

PRE VIZSLA: I had been taken from them at a young age, and my training kept me occupied, so my thoughts of them went to the back of my mind and sat there, collecting dust until I barely remembered them at all. (beat) That changed when I was twenty-five, when my brother -- a brother I had never known -- managed to make contact with me. From him I had learned that my parents had tried to get in touch with me for years, had tried to convince the Jedi Council to allow us to meet, but that they had been denied every time.

ZULL: What did you do then?

PRE VIZSLA: Then, I did nothing. (beat) I was still ensnared in Jedi dogma at the time, and felt it was my duty not only to ignore my family, but reject them. So I told my brother to leave me alone, to tell our parents to leave me alone, to let me serve my purpose as a Jedi for the Republic. (beat) So he left me alone. They all left me alone.

ZULL: You never heard from them again.

PRE VIZSLA: No, I heard from my brother again, one last time, several years later. (beat) He called to inform me that our parents were dead, both killed in the same farming accident.

ZULL: That is why you grew to hate the Jedi.

PRE VIZSLA: I hated myself, but I hadn't learned to despise the Jedi. That came later, after I met Kryze ...

ZULL: Your lover.

PRE VIZSLA: My wife. (beat) We met during the First Clone War, on some backwater planet the name of which I don't even remember. (beat) I was thirty-seven at the time, a lieutenant in the 373rd Jedi Regiment.

ZULL: Jedi regiment?

PRE VIZSLA: The Jedi were greater in number in those days. It wasn't uncommon to find battalions consisting solely of Jedi pitched in battle against the Mandalorian hordes. (beat) This was before the wars took their toll on them. (beat) Kryze was a non-sensitive, a soldier in an average Republican regiment which had been reinforcing our position against the Mandalorians. She wasn't classically beautiful, but she had a way about her -- an aura of strength and determination -- that I found instantly appealing, alluring. In spite of all I had been taught to believe, I wanted to hold her, to touch her ...

ZULL: To make love to her.

PRE VIZSLA: Yes. More than anything, I wanted to make love to her, to join her body with mine and share myself with her, because I knew -- I knew -- that I was missing something; a part of myself had been stolen away when the Jedi stole me away from my mother and father, a part that could only be replaced by this woman, this Force-blind woman my teachers had taught me to shun and disassociate myself from. (beat) It took time. Our love didn't blossom in a day. And when it did, we still took it slow, so very slow. But we loved each other -- we learned to love each other -- and it was beautiful.

ZULL: But something happened to her.

PRE VIZSLA: She died. This was after the First Clone War, in the years leading up to the war with the Separatists. It wasn't even in battle; she died of disease. Ironically, it was a strain of the very same virus which caused my sickness as a child that took her life. (beat) In the aftermath of her death, in all the legal hassle that followed, the Council finally learned of our marriage. Only months after her funeral, while I was still grieving, they berated me for falling in with her, stripped me of my rank, and excommunicated me from the Order.

ZULL: (bowing her head) I'm sorry.

PRE VIZSLA: For a very long time, I was lost. I became a mercenary and fought for both sides during the Second Clone War. I didn't have any loyalties, no cause -- I was dead inside, and only wanted to strike back at everything and everyone, to make them feel as dead as I felt. (beat) But then I was hired by some minor warlord and put to work alongside a band of Mandalorian mercenaries in his employ. (beat) We had absolutely nothing in common; fact of the matter was that I loathed Mandalorians. But as we worked together, I came to see them in a new light; in spite of how far they had fallen following their civil war, they still had honour and dignity and a yearning to see their civilization restored; they had everything I had lost after Kryze died and the Jedi abandoned me. I envied them, and in time, I grew to admire them. As I admired them, I began to learn from them.

ZULL: They taught you to embrace both sides of the Force?

PRE VIZSLA: They taught me how to teach myself what I already knew.

Having completed their short trek, Vizsla and Zull now stand within the ruins of an ancient temple. Beams of sunlight stream in through the various holes and windows of the place, cutting thick lines of yellow illumination through the gloomy darkness within.

PRE VIZSLA: The galaxy has grown rotten, poisoned from within by the Empire, the Jedi, and the Clonemasters. But here, on this planet, there is purity. From here, we will bear witness to the new dawn of the Mandalorian civilization. From here, we will go forth with our army of Mandalorian Knights and, like a spear of light, pierce the hearts of our enemies. We will bring peace and restore order to the galaxy.

Absentmindedly, Zull reaches down and puts her hand across her belly, placing it over the slightly swollen area her three-month old fetus lies developing within.

INT. TRAINING CENTRE 14/ROOM 112 - DAY

Within Room 112 of Training Centre 14, several students sit seated at desks, their attentions rapt upon the instructor standing at the head of the class. The instructor, for his part, desperately tries to get a malfunctioning projector to work to no avail.

INSTRUCTOR #2: (sighs) Well, this piece of garbage's busted. (to Anakin and Orowi) I want you two to go to the supply room and bring back another projector.

OROWI: Why both us?

INSTRUCTOR #2: (rolls his eyes) Do you know how heavy one of these things is? I send only one of you, and it'll take you half an hour dragging it here.

OROWI: I don't know if I can lift something that heavy.

INSTRUCTOR #2: You can fly, can't you? You'll be air support. Now go!

With the instructor's command, Anakin and his Toydarian friend both rise to leave the classroom. As they make their way down the empty corridor to the supply room, Orowi flies up beside Anakin, who stares blindly ahead with his mind a million kilometres away.

OROWI: I never studied the uprising in school, but from what I did hear about it, it didn't happen the way Poule says it did. What do you think?

ANAKIN: (absentminded) Uh-huh, yeah.

OROWI: (bemused) Anakin!

ANAKIN: (snaps out of his trance) Hu-wha!?

OROWI: You weren't listening to me.

ANAKIN: Sorry. I've got a trillion things on my mind.

OROWI: I noticed. You've been like that all day. What's the matter?

ANAKIN: I don't know if I should talk about it.

OROWI: Why not?

ANAKIN: Well, it's kind of embarrassing.

OROWI: Oh, c'mon -- gimme the prize.

ANAKIN: (under his breath) It's about Nashira.

OROWI: It's not that time of month, is it?

ANAKIN: (cont'd) She kissed me last night.

The Toydarian freezes, hovering in mid-air.

OROWI: Kissed you?

ANAKIN: (alarmed) Not so loud!

OROWI: (covers him mouth) Sorry! (beat) What did you do? Did you ... you know ... return it?

ANAKIN: (frowns) Of course not. (beat) I pushed her.

OROWI: (cocks an eyebrow) Pushed her?

ANAKIN: I didn't mean to, but she kissed me right when I was waking up from a nightmare.

OROWI: Must have been some nightmare.

Anakin's face goes stoney for a moment.

OROWI: Hit a nerve?

ANAKIN: Yes.

OROWI: I guess we shouldn't talk about it anymore.

The two then end their conversation, continuing on their way to the supply room.

ANAKIN: The nightmare was about Nashira.

OROWI: I thought we weren't going to talk about it anymore.

ANAKIN: (cont'd) She appeared in my dream, but she wasn't really Nashira. She was this beautiful women who wore her face, but it wasn't her.

OROWI: This doesn't really sound like a nightmare to me.

ANAKIN: She led me into a pyramid, to a stone coffin. When I opened it up, I found my own body inside. Then she licked my face.

OROWI: Odd, but still kinky.

ANAKIN: (frowns) Would you quit it with the bad jokes? It isn't funny.

OROWI: Sorry ...

ANAKIN: (cont'd) Her tongue was long and a dark blue or green, covered in tiny, sharp teeth. When she licked my face, she tore it right open. (beat) I can still feel those teeth cutting into me.

OROWI: Odd that you should have that dream right when she was kissing you. Coincidences will happen, I suppose.

ANAKIN: But was it a coincidence?

OROWI: I'm not following.

ANAKIN: Maybe it's a sign, a warning. Maybe the Force is trying to tell me something about 'Shira.

OROWI: Like what?

ANAKIN: I don't know.

OROWI: Did you tell her about the dream?

ANAKIN: I just told her I had a nightmare. I didn't tell her she was in it or that she was a face-eating monster.

OROWI: Maybe you should tell her about it.

ANAKIN: What good would that do?

Orowi simply shrugs.

ANAKIN: (cont'd) Telling her would only freak her out. She's sensitive enough as it is.

They finally come to the door leading into the supply room. Reaching out, Orowi pushes a button set into the door's control panel and it slides open. Stepping inside, they find the room pitch black within.

ANAKIN: It's like a black hole in here. Turn the light on, would ya?

Orowi presses the button for the lights and a dim, gray illumination barely fills the room.

ANAKIN: (sarcastic) Oh, that's so much better.

OROWI: Don't complain to me about it. It's not my fault they haven't changed the tubes.

Taking care not to trip or fly into any obstacles, they make their way deeper into the heavily cluttered supply room.

OROWI: You see one of those projectors lying anywhere?

ANAKIN: Not yet, I --

Anakin freezes as a shape moves in the corner of his vision. Turning to his left, he finds a hulking humanoid shape standing in the deep shadow, its arms wrapped around a cylinder-shaped piece of machinery.

Before either Anakin or Orowi can say or do anything, the shape lunges out of the shadows and takes off into a sprint towards them. Emerging from the deep shadow, the shape reveals itself to be Gurkan the Abyssin. Without so much as a growl, he plows right through Anakin and Orowi, knocking them both sprawling to the floor as he dashes out the door.

OROWI: (rubbing his head) What just hit us?

ANAKIN: I think that was Gurkan. He was holding onto something.

OROWI: What?

ANAKIN: Some piece of machinery, I guess. I didn't get a good look at it.

Together, the two friends right themselves.

OROWI: The way he took off when he saw us tells me that he wasn't supposed to be in here. Maybe we should tell someone.

ANAKIN: Tell someone? Why should we do that?

OROWI: He could be planning to do something with whatever it was he took.

ANAKIN: Oh, really? Like what?

OROWI: You tell me. Maybe he's going to build a bomb with it.

ANAKIN: If he's building a bomb, then let him build a bomb. Maybe he'll blow this place straight to hell and give us the chance to escape. It'll give the Mandies a great big headache they deserve, that's for damned sure. (beat) C'mon, let's find that stupid projector.

Orowi goes quiet. Silently, they continue their search for the elusive projector.

INT. MESS HALL - DAY

Within the public mess hall, Siri stands in a lineup with a metal tray in her hands, patiently waiting her turn to reach the food counter. Once she reaches the counter, she picks up a garto egg salad sandwich and a slice of Stenness pie and then, paying for both, moves off to find a table.

NASHIRA: (O.S.) Siri! Hey, Siri! Over here!

Siri looks about the mess hall and finds Nashira sitting alone at one of the tables located roughly in the centre of the complex. The eleven-year-old girl grins broadly, waving her right arm enthusiastically around in the air.

NASHIRA: (cont'd) I saved you a seat!

Giving Nashira a polite nod of acknowledgement, Siri walks over to her table. Placing her tray down on the opposite side of the table facing Nashira, the Jedi knight sits down with the young strawberry blonde. Nashira, still grinning broadly, shovels a large bite of bluish pasta into her hungry mouth.

NASHIRA: (talking with her mouth full) What'd you get?

SIRI: (takes a small bite out of her sandwich, chews it, then swallows) garto egg salad sandwich and Stenness pie.

NASHIRA: (swallows) I'm having spacoghetti.

SIRI: (eyes the saucy blue noodles warily) Looks great.

NASHIRA: It looks like crap and tastes worse. (beat) I had real spacoghetti back at school, you know, with real bantha cheese sauce. It was excellent. (beat) How's your sandwich?

SIRI: (grins) It tastes like melted plasteel. (lifts up her sandwich and peers between the slices of bread) It looks like melted plasteel.

NASHIRA: (giggles) I hope the pie's better.

As the two continue to eat their meals, Primeday Surprise makes her way over to their table, a tray loaded with a plate of Primeday Surprise in her hands. Noticing the H'nemthe, the two humans turn to regard her.

SIRI: Primeday!

PRIMEDAY: You wouldn't mind if I joined you.

SIRI: No, of course not. Take a seat.

PRIMEDAY: (cocks a brow) You make it sound as if I was asking a question.

Placing her tray down on the table, Primeday sits down beside Nashira.

SIRI: I don't believe the two of you have been introduced. Nashira, this is Primeday Surprise. Primeday, this is Nashira DuQuesne.

NASHIRA: (turns to Primeday, her hand held out in greeting) Nice to meet you.

Turning to acknowledge the young human girl, Primeday opens her mouth and her long, razor-sharp tongue whips out. As it writhes like an erratic snake before Nashira's face, the girl recoils, her eyes wide with terror. Then, with a loud slurping sound, the H'nemthe's impressive tongue returns back into her mouth.

PRIMEDAY: Charmed.

Her eyes frozen wide open, Nashira turns to regard Siri with a questioning expression on her face.

SIRI: (shrugs) Traditional H'nemthe greeting. It's their way of shaking hands.

PRIMEDAY: I never understood your genus' penchant for clasping hands as a form of greeting. It's an excellent way of exchanging filthy germs.

SIRI: I didn't know you had any rest periods this time of day, Primeday.

PRIMEDAY: I don't.

SIRI: (frowns) You don't? Then what are you doing here?

PRIMEDAY: (takes a bite out of her Primeday Surprise) I was hungry and I felt like eating out.

NASHIRA: But you'll get in trouble.

PRIMEDAY: Only if I want to.

NASHIRA: (confused) What?

SIRI: (to Nashira) She talks like this all the time.

PRIMEDAY SURPRISE: That is true, but only from a three-dimensional point of view.

NASHIRA: (frowns) Three-dimensional ...?

SIRI: Don't bother asking. You won't get an answer that makes any sense.

The three compatriots then continue eating their meals. As they eat, four towering male figures -- a dark-skinned human, a blue-skinned Pantoran, a gran, and a Muun -- saunter over to their table. Surrounding the three females, they loom over them menacingly.

HUMAN: Hello there, girlies. Having lunch, are you?

SIRI: (finishes her sandwich) Yes.

PANTORAN: Wouldn't you like us to join you?

SIRI: (starts on her pie) No.

GRAN: No!?

MUUN: Did you hear that?!

HUMAN: But my dear blond bonnie, you are just three females, all here by your lonesome. You need male companionship.

PANTORAN: Male companionship to keep you safe.

GRAN: After all, three females all alone? That's a recipe for abuse.

MUUN: You wouldn't want to be abused, would you?

The four punks giggle fiercely at their own poor attempts at humour.

HUMAN: C'mon, babes, join us outside. We've got a nice dessert for y'all.

NASHIRA: (annoyed) Get lost, feebs!

The four punks recoil from her words with mock outrage.

PANTORAN: Did you hear that? Did you hear what she called us?

GRAN: She called us feebs!

MUUN: Feebs? We?

HUMAN: How rude!

The punks giggle again. Her annoyance now turning to anger, Nashira pushes herself upright and then strides over to face the human punk.

NASHIRA: You think you're prime stuff, don't you? Well, you want to know what you really are?

PANTORAN: What are we? Really?

NASHIRA: You're all just scruffy-looking nerf herders!

All four punks go silent. That silence only lasts a moment, however, and is immediately broken by their riotous laughter.

GRAN: Nerf herders? Scruffy-looking?

MUUN: What kind of laserbrained insult is that?!

Hearing their dismissive laughter, Nashira loses her composure. Grinning animalistically, the human steps forward towards her, forcing her to step back into the Pantoran.

HUMAN: You've got a nasty mouth on you, girl, you know that?

NASHIRA: (afraid) I --

HUMAN: Yeah, young and nasty, just the way I like 'em.

Suddenly, the human punk grabs hold of Nashira. Wrapping her in an iron bear hug, he lifts her flailing form up.

HUMAN: Let's take her out back and have some fun, boys!

Realizing where this is going, Siri springs into action. Lunging at the human, she wraps her arms around his throat and pulls him backward, forcing him to let Nashira go as she flings him back over her shoulder to crash into the neighbouring table.

PANTORAN: Jedi slut!

The remaining punks then go on the offensive and attack the girls en masse. Screaming, Nashira runs away, leaving Siri and Primeday to fight the punks. The human punk, regaining his composure, rises up from the smashed remains of the table to stiffly run after her.

EXT. MESS HALL - DAY

Leaving the mess hall, Nashira screams out at the bystanders.

NASHIRA: Help us! Please, help us! We're being attacked!

Before Nashira can continue her entreaties, the human punk comes limping out of the mess hall entrance behind her.

HUMAN: (angry) Come here!

Seeing him, Nashira releases a piercing shriek then takes off into a run again. Grimacing, the punk follows after her in a half-limp, half-run.

INT. MESS HALL - DAY

Together, Siri and Primeday face the remaining three punks. Like the Jedi and the H'nemthe, they are all well trained in the Force, but unlike the Jedi and H'nemthe, they happen to be armed with fully-charged-and-activated vibroblades.

GRAN: We have the Force, too, ladies.

MUUN: We also have weapons, which you don't.

PRIMEDAY: But you don't have any weapons.

MUUN: (confused) Huh?

To elaborate, Primeday shoots her long tongue out at the Muun. Unwisely standing too close to the H'nemthe, he has no time to move out of the way as her razor-sharp tongue pierces his throat. Gurgling, he drops his vibroblade and collapses to the floor.

PANTORAN: Muun!

GRAN: You iced Muun!

The Gran lunges at Primeday, his violently-vibrating blade held high. At he brings it down, though, instead of slashing into her flesh, it seems to merely pass right through her, the blade itself fading from existence as it emerges from her body.

GRAN: What in --?

Bringing forth her ebony cane, Primeday slams the head of it into the Gran's temple, knocking him out instantly.

The Pantoran then attacks Siri, making a series of violent slashes with his vibroblade as he comes at her. Siri dodges each strike, but as he moves forward he increases the ferocity of his attack, forcing her to fight to stay out of reach of his blade.

Finally, Siri takes a misstep and the vibroblade glances across her flank. Crying out in agony, she falters, dropping to her knee. Grimacing, she presses a hand against the wound to staunch the flow of blood.

PANTORAN: Feel my penetration, bitch!

As the Pantoran punk moves to deliver the killing blow, Siri opens herself to the Force and allows it to invigorate her and drive the pain from her body. Springing back up, she catches his wrist in a vice-like grip and, with a sharp twist, snaps it, disarming him instantly.

SIRI: Not today, handsome.

Throwing her head forward, she head-butts the Pantoran. Knocked senseless, he collapses into the table behind him, flipping both it and himself over in the process.

SIRI: (turns to Primeday) Are you okay?

PRIMEDAY: Yes and no.

Siri then looks about the mess hall, searching the awestruck spectators surrounding the two of them for Nashira; the preteenaged girl is nowhere to be found among them.

SIRI: (frowns) Where's Nashira?

EXT. ALLEYWAY - DAY

Fleeing down a narrow alley between two buildings, Nashira soon comes to a dead end. Panicking, she looks around for an unlocked door to escape through but can find none.

HUMAN: (O.S.) C'mere, girl!

Unable to escape, 'Shira just stands and waits as the human punk enters the alleyway. Grinning, he limps his way over to her. Frozen in terror, Nashira can do nothing but cry as the punk grabs her by the collar and forces her up against the wall.

HUMAN: Oh, stop that crying, girl. (sticks a finger in her open mouth and runs it across the front of her teeth) Behave and it won't hurt any more than it has to.

Just as the punk begins kissing the young girl in a lecherous manner, another shape enters the alley behind them.

ZULL: (enraged) You, there! What are you doing?!

Hearing the force behind that strong voice, the human punk spins around to look behind him with fear in his eyes. Standing there in the alley, attired in the full robes and armour of a Mandalorian Knight, is Zull Uquesne.

HUMAN: Uh, I was only playing with her. I was just playing --

Full of silent menace, Zull strides toward the punk. Unhooking her lightsaber, she engages the chartreuse blade.

HUMAN: Hey! Hey, now! I said I was just --

With a flash of yellow-green fire, Zull lops both of the punk's arms off at the elbow.

HUMAN: YYYEEEAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!

His arm stumps smouldering, the punk collapses to his knees, his mouth wide open in extreme pain. Stepping closer to him, Zull levels the point of her lightsaber towards his open mouth.

ZULL: I know exactly what it was you were trying to do with this girl, you swine, and it certainly wasn't "playing".

HUMAN: (grimacing) Don't kill me!

ZULL: If you'd gotten further with her, I would kill you.

Zull then lowers the blade of her weapon. Believing himself to be in the clear, the punk laughs lightly with relief.

That laugh quickly turns to a scream as Zull forces the chartreuse blade between his legs.

ZULL: If your right eye offends you, pluck it out.

Drawing her lightsaber back, Zull allows the punk to collapse forward, whimpering with pain over his exorcised manhood. Deactivating the lightsaber, she returns it to her belt and then turns to regard Nashira, who remains standing against the wall, frozen in stark terror.

ZULL: (reaches her hand out toward 'Shira) It's alright now. He won't try to hurt you ever again.

Nashira remains standing there, afraid of both her disarmed assailant and this terrifying Mandalorian warrior.

ZULL: It's alright, beautiful, you don't have to be afraid of me. I'm a friend.

When the strawberry blond girl still refuses to comply, Zull reaches up and removes her helmet, exposing her beautiful face to the child.

ZULL: (smiles) You see? I'm a friend. I won't hurt you. I would never hurt you.

Tentatively, Nashira leaves the wall and walks over to Zull. Smiling down on the girl, Zull takes her by the hand.

ZULL: What's your name, beautiful?

NASHIRA: Nashira.

ZULL: Where are you supposed to be right now, Nashira?

NASHIRA: My next course starts in eighteen minutes.

ZULL: Consider it cancelled.

NASHIRA: (disbelieving) Really?

ZULL: You've earned the rest of the day off. I'll see to it that it's made official.

NASHIRA: (smiles slightly) Thanks. (beat) What's your name?

ZULL: My name's Zull.

NASHIRA: That's an unusual name.

ZULL: (laughs) I'm sure it is in this part of the galaxy.

As they stand there, human and Meketrex, hand-in-hand, Siri and Primeday arrive. Running up to them, Siri drops down in front of 'Shira and puts her hands on the young girl's face.

SIRI: (concerned) Are you alright, Nashira? Did he hurt you in any way?

NASHIRA: He would have, but Zull saved me.

Looking up at Zull, Siri regards the near-human woman for the first time, an expression of distrust on her face.

ZULL: I got here just in time to stop him. (beat) He didn't defile her.

SIRI: Thank you. (stands back up) Can we take her back with us now?

ZULL: (nods) She's allowed the rest of the day off. Take her back to her residence and see that she gets some rest.

SIRI: I will.

Releasing her hand, Zull allows Nashira to leave with Siri and Primeday. As they leave, Zull watches them, her eyes brimming with tears waiting to be shed.

I'm really interested in what you're doing with the H'nemthe. Your last few scenes have been quite enjoyable, and improved from the beginning of the story. I'm looking forward to the next installment. :)

Thanks. I can't really say where I'm going with Primeday yet, though; she's a mystery even to me.

LOL, I've written characters like that too. Maybe you could use the Christian idea of a glorified body (which can pass through physical objects, but can also make contact with physical objects, and exists in both a physical and spiritual plane). Perhaps she's already died and rather than becoming a Force ghost, strictly speaking, she's adopted a new form of body (perhaps Force ghosts are able to form bodies if they wish). Or maybe she is a Force ghost, and Force ghosts can interact with their surroundings, like how we saw Obi-Wan sit on a log in ROTJ. That could explain a lot about her, as well as providing an explanation for Obi-Wan's "more powerful than you can possibly imagine" and his sitting on a log.

Oh, I know what Primeday is in a physical sense. It's her thoughts and motivations which remain utterly alien to me.

That's kind of what I thought, but I wasn't sure if you would consider making her something else instead.

Anyway, you'll come up with something, I'm sure.

EXT. VOLCANIC MOON - PLATEAU - TWILIGHT

On the surface of a moon several light-years away from the Dania system, a Theta-class shuttle and three TIE fighters sit atop a plateau overlooking a landscape dotted by several smouldering volcanoes. The air thick with ash, the mother planet of the moon can barely be seen as a hazy, dirty purple half-disk in the dark black-and-gray sky.

A ways away from the shuttle and TIEs, five figures can be seen fleeing from a large swarm of hostile natives; they are all crew members of the Deliverer, a search party led by Commander Salem Piker.

As the hostile natives -- heavily-armoured humanoid females with prominent forehead ridges, pointed ears, and dark green skin -- close in on the party, they take aim with their staff-shaped energy weapons and open fire, sending beams of devastating orange-and-yellow energy toward the visitors; the party members return the favour by firing green blaster bolts at them.

CMDR. PIKER: C'mon, now! Hurry it along! Move, move, move!

In a few short minutes, the crewmembers of the Deliverer make it to their ships. Wasting no time, they hurry to climb aboard their starcrafts.

INT. THETA-CLASS SHUTTLE/COCKPIT - TWILIGHT

Clambering into the shuttle, Piker enters the cockpit and quickly sits down beside the pilot.

CMDR. PIKER: Take us out of here!

Obeying instantly, the pilot engages the shuttle's engines and prepares for liftoff.

EXT. PLATEAU - TWILIGHT

The alien warriors arrive just the four starships take off. Aiming their weapons upward, they open fire; while one of the TIEs is quickly overtaken by the devastating beams and reduced to an orange fireball, the remaining craft manage to evade the lances of energy and escape to the ash-filled sky above.

INT. THETA-CLASS SHUTTLE/COCKPIT - TWILIGHT

CMDR. PIKER: (exhales loudly) That was too close.

PILOT: It isn't over yet, Commander. I'm picking up ten alien fighters closing in on us from behind.

CMDR. PIKER: (annoyed) Oh, for the love of Clapton!

EXT. SPACE - VOLCANIC MOON

As the Theta-class shuttle and its escort of twin TIE fighters escape the atmosphere of the moon behind them, ten medium-sized fighters shaped like foreboding birds of prey converge on them, discharging orange-yellow energy beams their way. Two of the beams pass right through the shields of the shuttle and burn through the left wing, severing it from the rest of the craft.

INT. THETA-CLASS SHUTTLE/COCKPIT

CMDR. PIKER: What the hell was that!?

PILOT: Whatever those beams are made of, they passed right through our shields. Our left wing has been sheared completely off.

CMDR. PIKER: How long to hyperlaunch?

PILOT: Just under a minute, sir.

EXT. SPACE

As the seconds pass by, one of the enemy fighters succeeds in blowing one of the TIEs away.

INT. THETA-CLASS SHUTTLE/COCKPIT

PILOT: Coordinates locked ... now!

CMDR. PIKER: Punch it!

The pilot pulls back a lever, and the stars outside the cockpit window suddenly elongate into infinite strings of white light.

EXT. SPACE

Both the shuttle and the remaining TIE fighter make the jump into hyperspace, leaving the enemy ships behind.

INT. THETA-CLASS SHUTTLE/COCKPIT

CMDR. PIKER: (sighs) I hope they can't follow us through hyperspace.

INT. DELIVERER/DOCKING BAY

Sometime later, the Theta-class shuttle and the last remaining TIE fighter return to the Deliverer through the open docking bay. As they touch down, Bail arrives to greet them.

The shuttle's hatch opens and lowers, allowing Piker and the rest of the team members aboard the craft to climb out. As the commander wearily runs a hand through his hair, Bail walks up to him.

BAIL: How did it go, Commander?

CMDR. PIKER: I'm sorry, sir, but the moon was a dead end. When we went to check out that base, all we found were natives -- very beautiful, very deadly, natives. (beat) If there were ever any Mandies there, they left or were killed by the locals a long time ago.

BAIL: (sighs) This was our best lead.

CMDR. PIKER: I'm sorry, sir.

BAIL: Don't be. (beat) We'll just have to keep looking.

Turning his back on Salem Piker, Admiral Bail Organa leaves.

INT. DANIA VII - BUNKER 13/LEVEL 9/ANAKIN & NASHIRA'S QUARTERS/MAIN ROOM - DAY

The door to the room opens, allowing Nashira to step inside. Turning around, she makes eye contact with Siri, who remains standing outside.

SIRI: I have another shift coming up, but if you want, I can request a reprieve so I can stay here and keep you company.

NASHIRA: Thanks, Siri, but it's alright. I'll be fine 'til Nik gets back.

SIRI: The Mandalorian told me you should get some rest --

NASHIRA: (interrupting) Zull. Her name's Zull.

SIRI: (cont'd) Zull told me you should get some rest, so that's what I want you to do. Lie down, take a nap, do whatever, just take it easy, okay?

NASHIRA: (pouting) I'm not a baby, Siri.

SIRI: That's right, you're not. Babies can't follow directions -- you can. And you will, won't you?

NASHIRA: (bobbing her head side-to-side in an exaggerated manner) Yeah, yeah, yeah.

SIRI: Good. (beat) Goodnight, 'Shira. I'll catch you tomorrow, hopefully.

NASHIRA: Goodnight.

With that, Siri turns and leaves. Sealing the door shut after her, Nashira then turns and walks over to the room's solitary sofa. With an exaggerated sigh, she throws herself down onto it then, picking up and activating a datapad, begins to read.

NASHIRA: Now, where was I ...?

Scanning through the story datacard, she finds the last page she was on. Meanwhile behind her, the door to the refresher slides slowly open.

NASHIRA: (shakes her head) Why do I read this junk? Arul Sthein can't write for squat.

As 'Shira continues to read, a dark humanoid shape steps out of the 'fresher and slowly heads toward her. As it holds out its hand, light gleams off the blade of a crudely-fashioned, homemade knife.

NASHIRA: Stang! Reva's a real bit --

The shape suddenly grabs Nashira by her head and pulls it back, exposing her naked throat to the crude blade it places against her.

GURKAN: If you want to live, you'll keep quiet and come with me now.