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:: An ongoing episodic story of fan-fic set after Episode VI Return of the Jedi, and inspired by George Lucas' historical draft concepts ::
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Upcoming treats for May the Fourth !
30th April 2024 |
Ahead of Star Wars Day this year - May the Fourth be with you - some snippets of information have been released about upcoming projects that add to the excitement !
With the 25th Anniversary for Episode I The Phantom Menace upon us, many cinema chains in both the US and the UK are re-releasing the first of the Prequel Trilogy ; it's also being reported that more footage, or behind-the-scenes (BTS) footage, for the forthcoming TV show, 'The Acolyte', will be revealed, appropriate since the latter is set about 100 years before Episode 1.
Following on from the excellent (and 'quietly low key' understated) 'Tales of the Jedi' animated short series, this May will see the arrival of the similarly structured 'Tales of the Empire' animated shorts ; once again focusing on certain characters to describe portentous events in the galaxy.
And it was recently announced that 'The Acolyte' will finally introduce the lightwhip into live-action ! The literary character Venestra Rwoh who appears in the High Republic series of novels and will make her live-action debut in the new TV show, will wield a lightwhip - I for one have been impatiently waiting since the mid 1980s to see this weapon, when the dark character Lumiya utilised it to devastating effect in the old 'Marvel' comics.
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| As I did with the progression of the Virtual Edition Episode X, I will post below sections of the prose for Episode XI as I draft it.... |
Alana Skywalker led her team of Jedi through the dank cave network, their blue and green blades casting a ghostly hue across the sparkling rock surface, the Force confidently guiding their way. Where chitters and screeches sounded, the Force calmed them with insight ; where the passageway split, the Force prompted them towards the correct path.
The three Jedi who accompanied Alana trusted her explicitly. If she had felt the need to arrange a pincer approach upon these miners, working legally or otherwise, then so be it.
Yet Alana could feel a hint of confusion, if not doubt, emanating from her companions. She needed them to be focused and not distracted, and knew she had to be honest with them.
“My friends, I know you can’t sense any danger ahead of us,” she spoke softly as she continued walking, “and neither can I, but the Force has sent us this way for a reason. We should be ready for whatever we may find. Our colleagues are about to arrive at the mining base, and so ought to be the focus of attention for the miners.”
On the far side of the hill, the Jedi MPV had settled, and its passengers had disembarked. Doctor Walcott was speaking forcibly with a grubby soot-smeared droid doorkeeper, whilst the two administrative aides, the scientist, and the two Jedi, Nayton and Sihram, waited patiently to one side. Nayton was a tall humanoid reptilian male with scaly skin bearing dulled horns, who, as part of his Jedi tunic, wore a skirt over his reverse-jointed legs that accommodated a long tail, which currently swished contentedly back and forth ; Sihram was female, shorter, her pretty human face coloured dark brown, and who also wore layered skirts. They wore utilitarian pocketed vest-jackets, adorned with Pan-Alliance insignia, over their tunics. Behind the droid was the start of a building recessed into the side of the hill, a large rectangular access hatch about five metres wide was closed, and various data ports either side of the door showed slow blinking coloured lights. A multitude of storage bins, large and small, empty, half-empty, and lidded, were strewn haphazardly about the space in front of the door. Burn marks on the ground not too far away indicated a makeshift landing zone for a freighter, while their own ship sat a little distance away further down the hill.
“The whole point of a spot inspection is that it is unannounced !” argued Walcott, tugging at his moustache. “Assuming your operation here is legal and your licences are in order, then there will be nothing to delay us !”
“But, sir, the place is a mess, we cannot prepare any hospitality for your good selves,” answered the droid, gesturing an arm at the bureaucrat’s companions.
“We are not here for snacks, we simply wish to ensure the safety protocols are being adhered to ! Now, under the jurisdiction of the Pan-Alliance, tarry no longer, and let us enter !”
At that moment, the main access hatch hissed open a metre or two, and an ugnaught waddled out. It wiped its hands on its leather apron, and then smoothed down a long pointed beard. The ugnaught stopped just behind the droid and planted its hands on its hips. It snorted and grunted and barked.
“Boss Swin Serrad announces you are welcome to inspect his outfit here,” the droid translated, “but regrets the state it is in, though he assures you any mess does not infringe upon the basic requirements demanded by Health and Safety.”
Walcott beamed, and expansively turned to regard his companions. He returned his attention to the droid and Boss Serrad.
“Excellent ! That’s what I like to hear ! Now, please, show us the way...”
The ugnaught barked an order to the droid, and then turned around and waddled back to the open door. Walcott and the others stepped past the droid and followed the miner through the hatch.
In the dim glow cast by their laser swords, Alana and her companions could see a junction in the cave ahead. Water trickled down the tunnel walls and pooled at their feet. A handful of insects buzzed around them, attracted by the glowing blades. The path to their left was open and clear, the route to the right clearly became more enclosed and restrictive. Alana could feel warmth on her left cheek, but the Force whispered to take the more limited right hand side. She stretched out with the Force and probed the closing space ahead.
“We need to take the right hand path,” she whispered to her cadre. “The cave closes in, but the Force is telling me that there’s just enough space for us. But we’ll have to feel our way through.”
The Jedi nodded, and they all deactivated their swords. The pitch black immediately surrounded them, but their trust in the Force held their fear in check. The mystical cosmic energy illuminated their eyes too, and as they reached out to the cave wall with their hands, they confidently stepped forward.
Further above in the hillside, Doctor Walcott was perusing a datapad that Boss Serrad had handed to him. The small group stood in a cluttered area that doubled as administrative office, refreshments station, and temporary barrel holding bay. Stubby cylinders of extracted plasma sat against the walls, minimising the available walk space. A power droid cabled up to a generator sat humming to itself. A tall skeletal bipedal droid stood to one side, silent and immobile, apparently powered down. The counter top of the admin space was strewn with papers, datapads, small equipment and kit, drinking bottles, and crumpled food wrappers.
The white suited scientist was intently studying a piece of testing kit that sat at one end of the counter top, whilst the two Jedi waited patiently near the entrance hatch. Two of the aides were regarding the surroundings, noting for themselves any concerns they had with health and safety, whilst the third aide, Minnder, was analysing his own datapad. The smeared protocol droid that had met them and accompanied them inside stood waiting expectantly next to the aides.
Walcott called Minnder over to him, who, from over the other’s shoulder, glanced at something that he was pointing out. Minnder nodded, and showed his superior his own datapad.
“Yes, it’s old, but it correlates. Ideally, it ought to be reviewed and re-registered sooner rather than later.”
The shorter Boss Serrad glanced up at the humans and grunted and barked. The transla-droid jerked into action, lifting its head to address the bureaucrats.
“Is there a problem ?”
“Your licence details are correct, it says you’re an independent,” Walcott advised, “but it’s out of date since the last inspection. We allow a certain amount of time to accommodate the renewal, but even that period is pretty much up, now.”
Serrad shrugged. He snorted and grunted.
“Licence is correct, yes ?” responded the droid. “I know I’m a plasma miner, it’s not my job to chase up the Consortium and do their work for them !”
“Ahh, well, contracturally, it is,” interjected Minnder, ever the bureaucrat. “Once you’re registered, you are required to update them whenever there are changes, and whenever your licence is due for renewal.”
“Also, there’s no record of you listed with the primary mining facility here on Vitagaer,” added Walcott. “We’d expect some sort of confirmation that we could use to verify your presence.”
Serrad barked and harrumphed angrily, and threw his short arms wide.
“I can’t help it if the boys at Geo-Prime aren’t doing their job ! Take it up with them ! I’ve been contracted to work this seam, my licence says I can work this seam, now stop hassling me, and let me get on with working this seam !”
As Alana and her three accompanying Jedi clambered through the cave – their eyes blind, but their senses sharpened through the guidance of the Force - they were aware that the ground was quickly rising to meet the ceiling !
“Go slowly here,” instructed Alana, “It’s a tight fit, but we should be able to squeeze through...”
She led the others as she crawled and slithered and hauled herself along by her fingertips through a gap no bigger than a half metre space.
“You sure know how to make an entrance, Master !” muttered Dixon, next in line and crawling a metre or so behind.
“Shush !” snapped Alana. “We’re nearly there !”
The glow of artificial illuminators seeped into the subterranean darkness, and she could make out the nooks and crannies of the rock face ahead of her with her own eyes. She pushed out with the Force to divine the open space beyond : a cluttered grotto filled with storage boxes and tall canisters and various mining equipment ; further on, the chamber, coloured with a sickly amber glow, opened out to reveal larger kit comprising borers and fluid displacement pumps. Two ugnaughts, a slim rodian, and a pudgy gammorrean pottered about checking the status of the equipment, accompanied by a simple four-legged work-droid, while a muscled bare-chested weequay, his long top-know trailing down his back, was pushing into a heavy industrial drill at an angle into the rock face on the far side. Where implanted pumps were already sited, suction hoses carried hot plasma to their respective storage casks. The machinery hummed with a pulsating beat.
“Five workers and a droid,” Alana whispered back to her colleagues. “There’s pumping kit in action. And we’re behind some storage boxes and equipment in a sub-chamber. If we can shift the boxes to the side from here, we ought to be able to get in there without being seen.” She paused, then added, “Guys, focus on me.”
Alana Skywalker took a deep breath, and then released it slowly. “Inconcerto,” she whispered, then closed her eyes.
Behind her, equally cramped by the narrow crawl space, the three Jedi also inhaled, and closed their eyes.
In the makeshift store room, one of the boxes began to shift and wobble by the merest of degrees. It settled, as if taking a breath before its own forthcoming exertion. Then it rose a centimetre off the rough hewn floor of the cave, hovered for a moment, and slid smoothly in suspension to its left. As softly as it had risen it then descended, a slight crunch on the micro-grit of the floor the only evidence of something untoward having just occurred. Next, a second box found itself briefly hovering above the rocky floor before trans-locating a metre or so towards it neighbour. Finally, a tall cylindrical canister floated and moved, this time to the right, and then settled with hardly a noise.
Where the objects had been originally placed now a dark fissure in the back of the cave wall was revealed : a diagonal slash with a flattened top edge had appeared.
Alana opened her eyes, and blinked a few times to adjust to the slightly brighter ambience. She began to crawl forward as quietly as she could, and as the narrow tunnel opened up, she was able to tuck her legs in and forward, so that she could slide feet first into the store room. She twisted her body to shape to the diagonal, and, like a mammalian birth, she slid quietly into view. As she landed, she unconsciously smoothed her golden hair, now smeared with rock dust, with her hand.
The Jedi behind her moved likewise, patiently sliding down through the diagonal opening one by one to join their Master.
The space was even more crammed with four figures in addition to the storage units, but the Jedi focused on calming their breathing and not making a sound.
Let’s wait here a moment, Alana’s voice entered the others’ minds, the Force tells me to be patient.
Her companions nodded.
At that moment they heard grunting and snorting from the main chamber, and in their minds’ eye the Force revealed to them that one of the ugnaughts was leaving the facility through an access tunnel.
They subtly drew on the Dark Side of the Force to cloak them even more into the obscuring shadows.
Further along the tunnel in the main administrative chamber the Pan Alliance bureaucrats were perusing Boss Serrad’s credentials.
“And who contracted you in the first place ?” enquired Walcott, twirling his moustache thoughtfully.
Serrad shrugged.
“A commercial tender,” answered the transla-droid, “a middle man operating on behalf of several larger interests.”
Just then, a hatch opened and a second ugnaught shuffled through carrying a testing kit in his pudgy hands. He stopped short as soon as he realised that his boss had visitors.
Serrad glanced at his worker, and grunted at him in exasperation. The second ugnaught was visibly agitated, and the visitors could tell that his snorted response was stuttered.
Nayton looked down at the other Jedi quizzically, and was met with a brief nod. Sihram cleared her throat , and spoke up.
“Doctor Walcott, we sense an unusual amount of anxiety from these two fellows,” she announced.
“More than if this was simply a rogue operation scamming some plasma on the side,” added the reptilian Jedi.
“May we question them directly, Doctor ?” asked Sihram.
“Oh, uhh, yes, of course, please go ahead,” and Walcott stepped to one side to make room for the two Jedi.
Sihram stepped forward and, softly waving her hand in front of his face, asked Boss Serrad : “Who are these larger interests you speak of ?”
Serrad blinked a few times, and then answered, truthfully, through the droid, that he didn’t know.
“Tell us about the one procuring your services,” she continued smoothly.
“A guy named Al Scaletti, works out of Kafrene.” The Jedi Nayton nodded at this. Serrad continued. “Has connections in mining, puts interested people together, makes deals, that sorta thing.”
Serrad shrugged as if it was obvious who his job manager was and what he did.
Nayton moved forward, his tail swishing back and forth, and hissed sibilantly in his reptilian tongue. Serrad’s droid automatically translated his words.
“Were some of Scaletti’s interested people from the Imperial Remnant ?”
“Yeah, I believe so. Colonists. But that was a few years back. So what ?”
“Any Imperial activity recently ?”
Serrad visibly squirmed under the Jedi spell. “Yeah, possibly, I may have heard something...”
Sihram turned to the second ugnaught and directed the questioning at him. “Hot plasma is unstable. Sometimes used in propulsion. How much are you drawing out ?”
The ugnaught employee answered briskly, as did the droid.
“About fifty gallons a week, ma’am. Nice and slow, see ?”
“Storing it here would be dangerous, though, wouldn’t it ?”
“Too right ! I keep telling him !” the lackey pointed accusingly at Serrad. “Hot head over there says we need to double our numbers, even with the freighter coming here three times a week.”
“And when is the freighter due next ?”
“Tomorrow, ma’am,” came the prompt reply.
At that Minnder glanced sharply down at his datapad.
“It says here the freighter isn’t due for another five days,” he muttered.
“Boss Serrad says it’s to hide the number of visits,” answered the ugnaught helpfully.
“Why don’t you show us the current active seam,” commanded Nayton with a loud hiss.
“Certainly sir,” obeyed the ugnaught, and turned to Serrad. “Wouldn’t it be easier to show them the seam, Boss ?”
“And then we can be on our way and hassle you no more,” added Sihram.
Serrad, still under the grip of the Jedi influence, nodded. “Yeah, makes sense,” he tugged at his beard. “The sooner you see it, the sooner you’ll be out of our hair !”
Serrad gruffly stepped forward. “This way then !” barked the droid.
The two Jedi and the Pan Alliance representatives followed the ugnaughts and their droid through the hatchway and into a long tunnel, sections of which were illuminated by soft ochre lighting.
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| Nathaniel Reed, 31st March 2024 |
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