This is my first attempt at posting any kind of fan-fiction. Having recently rewatched the prequel trilogy and a few reviews of the films, I found myself deeply disappointed at the silliness and gaping plot stupidity and decided to try my hand at creating something broadly in the spirit of the Star Wars story, but hopefully not being quite as silly or incoherent (here I'm refering to the two-dimensional motivations of many villains). Please let me know any of your thoughts, encouragements, critiques etc.
All characters and content are inspired by Lucasfilm trademarks and are not my property (obvious... but since some other writers have placed such disclaimers I thought I would shuffle in with the crowd).
A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...
STAR WARS
Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. Increasing piracy and petty raiders are threatening the security of trade routes to outlying star systems. In response the Congress of the Republic has raised taxes to pay for greater protection, but the Trade Federation is deeply opposed to such measures, and loathes the inefficiency of the Republic’s navy. The Trade Federation hopes to force a resolution within the Senate and has blockaded the world of Naboo in protest, using its deadly battleships to emphasize the lack of Republic security. As the Senate endlessly debates the alarming chain of events, the Supreme Chancellor has secretly dispatched Jedi, guardians of the peace and agents of the Republic, to settle the conflict...
Naboo hung in space, a brilliant green and blue orb amidst a sea of darkness. Dotting the space around the planet were ships arranged in a blockade. They orbited, seemingly immobile in a precise pattern ringing the world. A small red diplomatic vessel cruised forward apparently oblivious of the blockade being perpetrated by the dangerous behemoth starships. Aboard that diplomatic yacht the pilots were welcomed by a Trade Federation flight controller and given permission to dock. The Republic yacht made a slight course adjustment as the bulk of a Trade Federation ship rapidly blocked the view of Naboo, then swallowed the yacht as though it were a morsel disappearing into the belly of a giant.
A few minutes of docking procedure took place then the yacht lowered its boarding ramp onto the deck of the Trade Federation hangar. A host of droids and their coordinating humanoid overlords bustled about, giving the Republic yacht wide berth. One tall Nemodian garbed in solemn grey robes and a diplomat’s cap waited directly in the path of the boarding ramp, along with a silver plated translator droid. Down the ramp strolled two men, one tall, bearded and clearly the senior of the two, the other shorter, though not small himself, and possessed of slightly less outward calm. Both of the figures wore blue breaches with stiff, high-necked jackets to match. Their boots were black but appeared more functional than decorative, and the elder had a brown cloak over-top of his jacket. The younger was wearing a brown cape clasped at the shoulders, seemingly as an afterthought
They moved smoothly down the ramp and onto the hangar deck with what could be called a graceful, relaxed pace, spoiled only by the darting eyes of the younger man. Both wore decorative belts, though unusually for diplomats they had a number of tools clipped on, and no decorative side-arm.
“Ah-welcome aboard-eh” greeted the Nemodian Trade Fed Rep. “I have-eh been instructed to escort you to-ah the conference chamber.” The translation droid next to him began to reiterate the words in another language until a short, annoyed gesture by the Nemodian silenced the droid.
“That would be most welcome,” spoke the older Republic Representative in a deep, rich voice. “Would it be acceptable for other members of our crew to exit our vessel? They would of course restrict themselves only to the immediate surroundings of the hangar.”
“That-ah can be arranged acceptably,” nodded the alien diplomat, who then gestured grandly toward the far wall of the hangar and a turbolift. The joint party steadily walked away from the Republic ship, and the bustle of droids cleared their path.
As the others departed, a boy, perhaps 12 or 13 standard years of age, popped his head down the ramp and then descended, tossing a hydrospanner idly in one hand as he did so. His sandy blond hair was tied into a small braid behind his right ear, and deep blue eyes seemed wide and ready to take everything in at once. He wore a uniform similar to the two men who had already exited the ship, but lacked the feature of any cape or cloak. A smile grew on his face as he observed the bustle of droids and had any elder who knew him been watching, they would have provided a chastising verbal caution.
"Hello little one," he chuckled while bending down to pluck a mouse-droid off the ground in spite of its muffled squeels of protest. "Let's see how you work."
* * *
The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
Moderator: LadyTevar
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
Trade Federation Conference Room - T.F.S. Prime Venture
The Trade Federation diplomat and accompanying translation droid exited the room after exchanging platitudes and promising to return shortly with a more senior negotiator.
“A more senior negotiator?” stated the younger Republic diplomat. “He sounds like they weren’t expecting to speak to Republic representatives at all. Something isn’t right here.”
“I am sensing an unusual level of anxiety for something as simple as a trade dispute,” replied the elder diplomat. “We need to be on our guard.”
“I sense it too master. But there is something more... not immediate but still concerning. It is like a distant storm on the horizon.”
“Be mindful of the present Obi-wan,” chastised the elder Jedi, “And remember that you have completed the trials. I do not hold the rank of master and am no longer your teacher.”
Obi-wan smiled ruefully. “You will always be my master Qui-Gon, and passing the trials does not mean I have no more to learn. I will try to focus on the living force. Was it really wise though to leave your padawan with the ship instead of bringing him here?”
“Anakin has a talent for finding his way into places and situations where he is not welcome. I think it best he is not part of initial negotiations; at the very least until we establish what it is the Trade Federation hopes to achieve by this blockade. Despite his tendency to find trouble, he also is surprisingly adept at slipping around it. He will be fine.”
“And what about us master?” queried Obi-wan. “The Trade Federation is taking aggressive and extreme actions by blockading Naboo and this route into the Mid-Rim. The Chancellor may have faith in negotiating a peaceful resolution to the crisis, but now that we are here I can feel increasing tremors in the force. Something dangerous is happening.”
“All the more reason for us to remain calm and seek a peaceful resolution. We will learn more by listening than attempting to impose an end to the blockade. We can only hope the Trade Federation leaders are willing to negotiate in good faith before all of this escalates into open conflict.”
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
The command deck hummed with activity. Navigators, comm. attendants, security officers, tactical advisors and more all carried out their duties with a tense determination. With Republic observers aboard the risks of their blockade would either be mitigated or increased. Privately, many among the crew were dubious that the Republic would respond reasonably and peacefully, and they did not enjoy risking their lives to prove a point for the corporate board. Adding to that anxiety was the presence and oversight of Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. He stood in the center of the mass of activity and staff like a statue. His stance and face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, and many of the crew and attendants filled in this lack of expression with some of their darkest fears.
Doors to the command deck opened and the greeter of the Republic envoys hurried in.
“Vice-ah –roy,” greeted the diplomat in hurried tones. “We are-ah once again honoured by your presence and leadership.”
Gunray turned to face the diplomat, who was wringing his hands at this point and bowing profusely.
“Yes, yes, yes. Report on the Republic ambassadors. What have you learned?”
“Not much sire, but I believe the ambassadors are Jedi.”
“JEDI!” cried the Viceroy, obvious shock breaking his impassive expression. “This is unexpected. Finally we are getting somewhere. It may complicate our plans, but Jedi here means the Supreme Chancellor is taking direct action. Have your droid inform the ambassadors we will be joining them shortly.”
***
Trade Federation Hangar Deck – T.F.S. Prime Venture
Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan, sat cross-legged on the hangar floor, pieces of the mouse droid carefully arrayed around him. In his hands was the still functioning core of the tiny droid.
“Interesting...” muttered Anakin to himself. “The Trade Feds have modified this model with remote data links rather than installing independent processors. I wonder if the rest of their droids are also linked into a central control?”
His musings were interrupted by a disturbance in the Force. Anakin jumped to his feet in an instant, worriedly looking all around for the source of the disruption. The flow of activity in the hangar seemed to be exactly the same as before, only now the disturbance was intensifying and he felt increasingly certain something terrible was coming. He plucked a comm. stick off his belt and prepared to contact master Qui-Gon when a host of mouse-droids whirled past him, scattering some of the components of their disassembled brethren. The tiny wheeled droids converged on the entry ramp to Anakin’s shuttle and disappeared inside.
“Oh, no-“ began Anakin, feeling the sense of danger spike a moment before the shuttle erupted in a massive explosion.
***
Trade Federation Conference Room - T.F.S. Prime Venture
“I suppose we can wait, but do let your masters know that our patience is wearing thin,” retorted Obi-wan Kenobi. A moment earlier the silver plated droid had informed the two Jedi that the Trade Federation leader would be coming personally, in good time, to speak with them. Qui-gon cast a disapproving look at Obi-wan for his impatience.
“Wait – what’s that!?” exclaimed Obi-wan as the Force became acutely agitated. He jumped from his seat onto his feet and activated his lightsaber, with Qui-Gon Gin doing the same on the other side of the conference table. Obi-wan’s blue energy blade was held defensively while Qui-Gon’s green blade was pointed directly at the translation droid.
They both felt the deck shudder beneath their feet, and they knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the droid, dropping a tray of glasses and water as it shuffled away from the ignited Jedi weapons.
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
Alarms rang out across the command deck while staff and technicians frantically attended to various screens and terminals, all flashing red. Up here, the deck had rattled slightly and then all hell had broken loose as automated system reports for the hangar went berserk.
“Explosion in the hangar bay!” shouted one officer. “It... it was the Republic ship! It detonated. No hull breach – fire teams are en route. Casualty reports are coming in.”
“The Republic ship!” wailed Nute Gunray. “They did not-eh come to negotiate! They must mean to assassinate me and force an end to our blockade! Send security droids to the Conference Room. Cut off air to the room and redirect gasses in. I want those Jedi neutralized-eh.”
“Have you ever dealt with Jedi before?” moaned the diplomat, still grovelling next to the Viceroy.
“Well... no,” admitted Gunray.
***
Trade Federation Conference Room, Exterior Hallway - T.F.S. Prime Venture
A dozen droids stood facing the conference room portal with blasters drawn and levelled. They shuffled forward in a parody of biological nervousness. Their behavioural programmer had been overpaid to make the automatons “sympathetic” for sentient beings to reduce their threatening nature. The Trade Federation was after all, in the business of dealing with people and taking their money but went to great pains to maintain positive PR... sometimes with exaggerated consequences.
“It’s been five minutes,” buzzed one of the droids. “Humans are able to hold their breath for 60 to 120 seconds on average. They should be neutralized. Open the door.”
“Roger-roger,” replied another of the security droids, shuffling forward and tapping the door release.
A medley of sickly grey-green gas billowed out of the portal and a silvery shape hustled out into the hallway, practically quaking as it moved out of the way. The security droids swivelled their heads to look at each other and then into the now clearing Conference Room. Within, two shadowy figures stepped forward and with a snap-hiss, their lightsabers were activated.
“Uh-oh” exclaimed one of the droids.
Shots rang out and the Jedi sprang from the room, deflecting blaster bolts as they waded into the security detail, twisting, slashing and dismembering the droids in rapid fashion. Several of the shots were deflected back at the point of origin, leaving smouldering droid parts cast all around the hallway.
Obi-wan deflected a shot, then with the same motion thrust his saber behind him to impale the droid standing there that was firing toward Qui-Gon. He brought his weapon back to a ready position as another squad of droids rounded the corner and reacted in faux-programmed surprise. Obi-Wan thrust his hand toward them and sent five sprawling backward into the others with a Force-push, their internal circuitry shorting out. Qui-Gon stepped forward and with a series of sweeping slashes beheaded the other members of the squad.
Barely breaking their pace, the two Jedi marched down the corridor in search of the Trade Federation leaders.
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
“This is terrible!” shouted Nute Gunray, watching a holo-display of the scene outside the conference room. “Somebody shoot them – or, or something!”
The Jedi were now marching down the corridors of the Trade Federation battleship with what appeared to be grim purpose to an increasingly panicked command staff. Four squads had already been utterly shattered by the Jedi and none had even come close to slowing the Republic agents down. Another five were en route and two were massed in front of the Command Centre entrance, but it was clear the droids would barely phase the Jedi.
“Lock the door!” ordered an officer, shouting above the general din. The entrance audibly cycled shut.
“That should stop them until reinforcements arrive,” declared the Viceroy, his voice lacking the confidence he had hoped to project.
On the holo-screen the two Jedi laid into the defenders of the Command Centre door with ruthless efficiency as the muffled sound of blaster fire drifted through to the ears of those inside. A final shot rang out and was deflected by the bearded Jedi back into the head of the droid who had fired it, causing the spirits of the command staff to sink further.
“Uh-uh-what do we have to throw at them!?” demanded Gunray, pointing at a random staff member.
“More droids?” came the feeble response of the Nemodian. “Perhaps droidekas?”
“Yes! Droidekas!” cried Gunray. “Get the droidekas up here now!”
Outside, Obi-wan took up a defensive stance, looking up and down the corridor with his lightsaber at the read, while Qui-gon examined the Command Centre door, an expression of cool intensity on his face.
“I feel them panicking in there master,” stated Obi-wan, continuing to scan the approaches to their position. “Arresting their leaders may not be so difficult.”
“Hunh,” grunted Qui-gon, thrusting his lightsaber into the door and slowly pulling it around in a circle to breach the barrier. Molten metal dripped from the contact point between the saber and the door. Once the cut was complete he would use the Force to blast the cut hunk of metal into the Command Centre, then he and Obi-wan would duck through the hole and take the staff there into custody. Just as he neared completion of the breach, blast doors collapsed down. Qui-gon had to nearly leap backward to avoid being hit by the bulky armour plating.
“Well, that’s not good,” muttered Obi-Wan.
Inside, the Viceroy was cursing at the command staff. “Idiots! You should have lowered the blast doors in the first place-ah! Where are those droidekas!?”
Qui-gon took a deep breath, then plunged his saber tip first into the blast door, working to rotate the beam, but not pulling it to cut. All around the blade, the door was beginning to glow red-hot.
“They’re coming through!” wailed one of the technicians, as several of the officers took up positions behind their consoles and levelled side-arms at the entrance. They were convinced the Jedi meant to kill them all as effortlessly as the security droids had been dispatched and none of them intended to die without a fight. The fear in the air was practically palpable. To the Jedi cutting their way through the blast door, the fear was tangible.
“Master,” cautioned Obi-wan as he heard a rapid clanging coming from down the corridor. “We have company.”
Three balls rolled into view and unfolded onto a set of stubby legs and rapid fire heavy blasters. The air around them shimmered as shields activated and the three droids opened up with fusillade of blaster bolts at the Jedi.
“Destroyers!” shouted Obi-wan, now frantically parrying and blocking the weapon strikes aimed at him. Shots that were directed back at the droid merely struck their shields, causing a blue haze to thicken the air momentarily. Qui-gon had turned away from the blast door and joined Obi-wan in hurriedly countering the waves of blaster fire coming at them.
“What now?” demanded Obi-wan, sweat forming on his brow.
“Run!” ordered Qui-gon, bolting down the corridor away from the droidekas at inhuman speed. Obi-wan swatted one last bolt at the droids then followed in a near-blur of movement.
Inside the Command Centre, a collective sigh of relief could be heard. The moment of calm was not to last however.
“How-ah dare they!” raged the Viceroy. “Attempt to cripple our command ship and assassinate my person... Damn the Republic. If they will-ah not see reason, then we will force their compliance. Operation Landfall is authorized. Jam all interplanetary transmissions! Activate the droid army and deploy it on the planet below! We need-ah hostages!”
The Trade Federation diplomat and accompanying translation droid exited the room after exchanging platitudes and promising to return shortly with a more senior negotiator.
“A more senior negotiator?” stated the younger Republic diplomat. “He sounds like they weren’t expecting to speak to Republic representatives at all. Something isn’t right here.”
“I am sensing an unusual level of anxiety for something as simple as a trade dispute,” replied the elder diplomat. “We need to be on our guard.”
“I sense it too master. But there is something more... not immediate but still concerning. It is like a distant storm on the horizon.”
“Be mindful of the present Obi-wan,” chastised the elder Jedi, “And remember that you have completed the trials. I do not hold the rank of master and am no longer your teacher.”
Obi-wan smiled ruefully. “You will always be my master Qui-Gon, and passing the trials does not mean I have no more to learn. I will try to focus on the living force. Was it really wise though to leave your padawan with the ship instead of bringing him here?”
“Anakin has a talent for finding his way into places and situations where he is not welcome. I think it best he is not part of initial negotiations; at the very least until we establish what it is the Trade Federation hopes to achieve by this blockade. Despite his tendency to find trouble, he also is surprisingly adept at slipping around it. He will be fine.”
“And what about us master?” queried Obi-wan. “The Trade Federation is taking aggressive and extreme actions by blockading Naboo and this route into the Mid-Rim. The Chancellor may have faith in negotiating a peaceful resolution to the crisis, but now that we are here I can feel increasing tremors in the force. Something dangerous is happening.”
“All the more reason for us to remain calm and seek a peaceful resolution. We will learn more by listening than attempting to impose an end to the blockade. We can only hope the Trade Federation leaders are willing to negotiate in good faith before all of this escalates into open conflict.”
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
The command deck hummed with activity. Navigators, comm. attendants, security officers, tactical advisors and more all carried out their duties with a tense determination. With Republic observers aboard the risks of their blockade would either be mitigated or increased. Privately, many among the crew were dubious that the Republic would respond reasonably and peacefully, and they did not enjoy risking their lives to prove a point for the corporate board. Adding to that anxiety was the presence and oversight of Nute Gunray, Viceroy of the Trade Federation. He stood in the center of the mass of activity and staff like a statue. His stance and face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking, and many of the crew and attendants filled in this lack of expression with some of their darkest fears.
Doors to the command deck opened and the greeter of the Republic envoys hurried in.
“Vice-ah –roy,” greeted the diplomat in hurried tones. “We are-ah once again honoured by your presence and leadership.”
Gunray turned to face the diplomat, who was wringing his hands at this point and bowing profusely.
“Yes, yes, yes. Report on the Republic ambassadors. What have you learned?”
“Not much sire, but I believe the ambassadors are Jedi.”
“JEDI!” cried the Viceroy, obvious shock breaking his impassive expression. “This is unexpected. Finally we are getting somewhere. It may complicate our plans, but Jedi here means the Supreme Chancellor is taking direct action. Have your droid inform the ambassadors we will be joining them shortly.”
***
Trade Federation Hangar Deck – T.F.S. Prime Venture
Anakin Skywalker, Jedi Padawan, sat cross-legged on the hangar floor, pieces of the mouse droid carefully arrayed around him. In his hands was the still functioning core of the tiny droid.
“Interesting...” muttered Anakin to himself. “The Trade Feds have modified this model with remote data links rather than installing independent processors. I wonder if the rest of their droids are also linked into a central control?”
His musings were interrupted by a disturbance in the Force. Anakin jumped to his feet in an instant, worriedly looking all around for the source of the disruption. The flow of activity in the hangar seemed to be exactly the same as before, only now the disturbance was intensifying and he felt increasingly certain something terrible was coming. He plucked a comm. stick off his belt and prepared to contact master Qui-Gon when a host of mouse-droids whirled past him, scattering some of the components of their disassembled brethren. The tiny wheeled droids converged on the entry ramp to Anakin’s shuttle and disappeared inside.
“Oh, no-“ began Anakin, feeling the sense of danger spike a moment before the shuttle erupted in a massive explosion.
***
Trade Federation Conference Room - T.F.S. Prime Venture
“I suppose we can wait, but do let your masters know that our patience is wearing thin,” retorted Obi-wan Kenobi. A moment earlier the silver plated droid had informed the two Jedi that the Trade Federation leader would be coming personally, in good time, to speak with them. Qui-gon cast a disapproving look at Obi-wan for his impatience.
“Wait – what’s that!?” exclaimed Obi-wan as the Force became acutely agitated. He jumped from his seat onto his feet and activated his lightsaber, with Qui-Gon Gin doing the same on the other side of the conference table. Obi-wan’s blue energy blade was held defensively while Qui-Gon’s green blade was pointed directly at the translation droid.
They both felt the deck shudder beneath their feet, and they knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“Oh my!” exclaimed the droid, dropping a tray of glasses and water as it shuffled away from the ignited Jedi weapons.
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
Alarms rang out across the command deck while staff and technicians frantically attended to various screens and terminals, all flashing red. Up here, the deck had rattled slightly and then all hell had broken loose as automated system reports for the hangar went berserk.
“Explosion in the hangar bay!” shouted one officer. “It... it was the Republic ship! It detonated. No hull breach – fire teams are en route. Casualty reports are coming in.”
“The Republic ship!” wailed Nute Gunray. “They did not-eh come to negotiate! They must mean to assassinate me and force an end to our blockade! Send security droids to the Conference Room. Cut off air to the room and redirect gasses in. I want those Jedi neutralized-eh.”
“Have you ever dealt with Jedi before?” moaned the diplomat, still grovelling next to the Viceroy.
“Well... no,” admitted Gunray.
***
Trade Federation Conference Room, Exterior Hallway - T.F.S. Prime Venture
A dozen droids stood facing the conference room portal with blasters drawn and levelled. They shuffled forward in a parody of biological nervousness. Their behavioural programmer had been overpaid to make the automatons “sympathetic” for sentient beings to reduce their threatening nature. The Trade Federation was after all, in the business of dealing with people and taking their money but went to great pains to maintain positive PR... sometimes with exaggerated consequences.
“It’s been five minutes,” buzzed one of the droids. “Humans are able to hold their breath for 60 to 120 seconds on average. They should be neutralized. Open the door.”
“Roger-roger,” replied another of the security droids, shuffling forward and tapping the door release.
A medley of sickly grey-green gas billowed out of the portal and a silvery shape hustled out into the hallway, practically quaking as it moved out of the way. The security droids swivelled their heads to look at each other and then into the now clearing Conference Room. Within, two shadowy figures stepped forward and with a snap-hiss, their lightsabers were activated.
“Uh-oh” exclaimed one of the droids.
Shots rang out and the Jedi sprang from the room, deflecting blaster bolts as they waded into the security detail, twisting, slashing and dismembering the droids in rapid fashion. Several of the shots were deflected back at the point of origin, leaving smouldering droid parts cast all around the hallway.
Obi-wan deflected a shot, then with the same motion thrust his saber behind him to impale the droid standing there that was firing toward Qui-Gon. He brought his weapon back to a ready position as another squad of droids rounded the corner and reacted in faux-programmed surprise. Obi-Wan thrust his hand toward them and sent five sprawling backward into the others with a Force-push, their internal circuitry shorting out. Qui-Gon stepped forward and with a series of sweeping slashes beheaded the other members of the squad.
Barely breaking their pace, the two Jedi marched down the corridor in search of the Trade Federation leaders.
***
Trade Federation Command Centre – T.F.S. Prime Venture
“This is terrible!” shouted Nute Gunray, watching a holo-display of the scene outside the conference room. “Somebody shoot them – or, or something!”
The Jedi were now marching down the corridors of the Trade Federation battleship with what appeared to be grim purpose to an increasingly panicked command staff. Four squads had already been utterly shattered by the Jedi and none had even come close to slowing the Republic agents down. Another five were en route and two were massed in front of the Command Centre entrance, but it was clear the droids would barely phase the Jedi.
“Lock the door!” ordered an officer, shouting above the general din. The entrance audibly cycled shut.
“That should stop them until reinforcements arrive,” declared the Viceroy, his voice lacking the confidence he had hoped to project.
On the holo-screen the two Jedi laid into the defenders of the Command Centre door with ruthless efficiency as the muffled sound of blaster fire drifted through to the ears of those inside. A final shot rang out and was deflected by the bearded Jedi back into the head of the droid who had fired it, causing the spirits of the command staff to sink further.
“Uh-uh-what do we have to throw at them!?” demanded Gunray, pointing at a random staff member.
“More droids?” came the feeble response of the Nemodian. “Perhaps droidekas?”
“Yes! Droidekas!” cried Gunray. “Get the droidekas up here now!”
Outside, Obi-wan took up a defensive stance, looking up and down the corridor with his lightsaber at the read, while Qui-gon examined the Command Centre door, an expression of cool intensity on his face.
“I feel them panicking in there master,” stated Obi-wan, continuing to scan the approaches to their position. “Arresting their leaders may not be so difficult.”
“Hunh,” grunted Qui-gon, thrusting his lightsaber into the door and slowly pulling it around in a circle to breach the barrier. Molten metal dripped from the contact point between the saber and the door. Once the cut was complete he would use the Force to blast the cut hunk of metal into the Command Centre, then he and Obi-wan would duck through the hole and take the staff there into custody. Just as he neared completion of the breach, blast doors collapsed down. Qui-gon had to nearly leap backward to avoid being hit by the bulky armour plating.
“Well, that’s not good,” muttered Obi-Wan.
Inside, the Viceroy was cursing at the command staff. “Idiots! You should have lowered the blast doors in the first place-ah! Where are those droidekas!?”
Qui-gon took a deep breath, then plunged his saber tip first into the blast door, working to rotate the beam, but not pulling it to cut. All around the blade, the door was beginning to glow red-hot.
“They’re coming through!” wailed one of the technicians, as several of the officers took up positions behind their consoles and levelled side-arms at the entrance. They were convinced the Jedi meant to kill them all as effortlessly as the security droids had been dispatched and none of them intended to die without a fight. The fear in the air was practically palpable. To the Jedi cutting their way through the blast door, the fear was tangible.
“Master,” cautioned Obi-wan as he heard a rapid clanging coming from down the corridor. “We have company.”
Three balls rolled into view and unfolded onto a set of stubby legs and rapid fire heavy blasters. The air around them shimmered as shields activated and the three droids opened up with fusillade of blaster bolts at the Jedi.
“Destroyers!” shouted Obi-wan, now frantically parrying and blocking the weapon strikes aimed at him. Shots that were directed back at the droid merely struck their shields, causing a blue haze to thicken the air momentarily. Qui-gon had turned away from the blast door and joined Obi-wan in hurriedly countering the waves of blaster fire coming at them.
“What now?” demanded Obi-wan, sweat forming on his brow.
“Run!” ordered Qui-gon, bolting down the corridor away from the droidekas at inhuman speed. Obi-wan swatted one last bolt at the droids then followed in a near-blur of movement.
Inside the Command Centre, a collective sigh of relief could be heard. The moment of calm was not to last however.
“How-ah dare they!” raged the Viceroy. “Attempt to cripple our command ship and assassinate my person... Damn the Republic. If they will-ah not see reason, then we will force their compliance. Operation Landfall is authorized. Jam all interplanetary transmissions! Activate the droid army and deploy it on the planet below! We need-ah hostages!”
-
Themightytom
- Sith Devotee
- Posts: 2818
- Joined: 2007-12-22 11:11am
- Location: United States
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
My god, i already hate Anakin less
"Since when is "the west" a nation?"-Styphon
"ACORN= Cobra obviously." AMT
This topic is... oh Village Idiot. Carry on then.--Havok
-
aussiemuscle308
- Padawan Learner
- Posts: 201
- Joined: 2011-01-20 10:53pm
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
so far so good, you've piqued my interested. please continue.
========================================
If you believe in Telekinesis, raise my hand.
If you believe in Telekinesis, raise my hand.
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
The Story looks good so far, but you may want to avoid using accents for the nemodians, Jarjar or whoever, as it tends to pull one out of the story thinking: "What did he just say" and distracting from the overall story. And this is a good story I don't want to be distracted from. Instead of
"“How-ah dare they!” raged the Viceroy. “Attempt to cripple our command ship and assassinate my person... Damn the Republic. If they will-ah not see reason, then we will force their compliance.""
See how it looks if you take out the -ah's
But again, it's your story and it looks good so far.
"“How-ah dare they!” raged the Viceroy. “Attempt to cripple our command ship and assassinate my person... Damn the Republic. If they will-ah not see reason, then we will force their compliance.""
See how it looks if you take out the -ah's
But again, it's your story and it looks good so far.
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
I'd like to see a better introduction. The opening title crawl is one of the most recognisable things about star wars, and The Phantom Menace's was awful. Yours has the benefit of being short, but there's too much information in there, and it's too dry. A lot of it, like the Trade Federation's motivations are a little overexplained in my opinion, and could be shown through dialogue.
Anakin and the Mouse droid - nice, but would nobody care about some punk kid taking apart an expensive piece of tech for no apparent reason? Perhaps you could have him take it apart inside the vessel and jump out as it blows, action hero style.
The writing itself is fine, although you seem to be staying very faithful to the original cuts and ideas. For example, why use visible gas at all?
I really like your idea of having the republic corvette destroyed by an outside source (presumably palpatine, to heighten the tensions) as that was one thing that made ZERO sense in the movie, but makes total sense in your fic.
Anakin and the Mouse droid - nice, but would nobody care about some punk kid taking apart an expensive piece of tech for no apparent reason? Perhaps you could have him take it apart inside the vessel and jump out as it blows, action hero style.
The writing itself is fine, although you seem to be staying very faithful to the original cuts and ideas. For example, why use visible gas at all?
I really like your idea of having the republic corvette destroyed by an outside source (presumably palpatine, to heighten the tensions) as that was one thing that made ZERO sense in the movie, but makes total sense in your fic.
"Our terror has to be indiscriminate, otherwise innocent people will cease to fear"
-Josef Stalin
-Josef Stalin
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
Planet Naboo - Capital City
Daylight warmed the royal palace on Naboo. Domes, towers and vistas were intricately constructed and arrayed around the grand falls. The buildings suggested a classic style of more elegant, simple times, yet their fine detailing and immaculate condition declared the wealth of the planet for anybody caring to see it. Naboo was a highly successful world, despite being relatively far out from the core systems. The blockade in orbit may prove a minor inconvenience to the Republic, but to the world of Naboo and its people, the blockade was economically destructive. Lost revenues, a cut to luxury items just starting to be felt by the planet, and restriction of movement for local and interstellar merchants were all causing the government to become distinctly irate. The calm appearance of the royal city was in stark contrast to the attitude of the Queen and her ruling council.
With her back to a grand stained glass window, Queen Amidala sat in full ceremonial regalia as the governing council sat in session and consulted Senator Palpatine on distant Coruscant. Faces around the room were grim and upset, in contrast to the expression of the Senator, who while pausing to seem concerned at times, was nonetheless largely upbeat.
“This blockade cannot be accepted by the Senate,” said the Queen stiffly. “Every hour we lose revenue and the Republic appears weak in the eyes of its Mid-Rim and Out-Rim colonies. The actions of the Trade Federation blatantly violate Republic Law. Surely these facts are beyond dispute.”
The hologram of Senator Palpatine flickered for a moment as he began to address the queen.
“If only it were so, your grace. The Senate is debating whether the blockade does constitute an illegal action, or one of conscientious objection. I have little doubt myself that the blockade is illegal, but convincing more of my colleagues is at times a frustrating proposition. Fortunately, the Chancellor has already dispatched ambassadors to mediate the dispute. Our hope is that they will reach an accord with the Trade Federation before the Senate obfuscates the crisis any further.”
“Ambassadors?” queried the royal treasurer. He represented an element of the elder generation, and his seniority was obvious in his grey/white hair and balding hair-line. “We have been informed of no such delegation.”
The image of Palpatine flickered again and seemed to be losing resolution, but his expression of concern came through clearly enough.
“That is troubling. The Chancellor assures me the ambassadors...” the hologram flickered and static hissed over the comm. channel. “... they were to check in... Queen next. What is the blasted.... transmission... Highness?”
The image and sound cut out completely, to be replaced by a field of visual and audio static.
“What is this?” demanded the Queen, outrage flashing in her eyes. “What happened?”
Expressions around the council varied from frightened to grim. Though they did not always speak as one in matters of governance, they clearly held a common fear now.
“If the Trade Federation is jamming interplanetary signals, it can mean only one thing,” stated the treasurer. “Invasion.”
Captain Panaka of the Queen’s Guard spoke up at this.
“If troops are landed, they will be coming here first. The opportunity to capture the sitting government all at once will be too great to pass up. My men can delay a landing force, but we don’t have the numbers to repel an invasion.”
“You must be moved immediately your Highness,” advised the treasurer, having enthusiastically nodded in agreement with Panaka’s assessment. “You must not be put at risk.”
“No.”
“But, Highness...”
“I will not abandon my people,” said the Queen in a tone that allowed for no debate. “We will stand together and fight any invaders.”
“Highness, we are equipped as a police force and militia, not an army,” advised Captain Panaka, clearly torn between his duty to keep the Queen safe and his pledge to obey her commands. “The Trade Federation has a dozen battleships in orbit and easily outnumbers our entire planetary defence force. The Federation also favours droids which can be used in even higher concentrations. Simply put: we are outmatched.”
“Nonetheless, we cannot surrender our world without a fight, and I will not call upon my people to die while I hide behind them as human shields,” countered the Queen. “Can we be sure the Trade Federation means to land troops?”
“Without control of the orbital facilities we have no way of knowing until landing craft have already entered the atmosphere,” answered Captain Panaka. “There isn’t time to delay. At the very least move your ministers free of the palace so that they cannot all be incapacitated in one stroke.”
The Queen passed normally calm eyes across the assembled ministers and advisors. Her gaze now was hard and piercing.
“Our people need leaders. Leaders do not run; they champion the cause. Open the armoury and equip every able bodied citizen. We fight.”
Daylight warmed the royal palace on Naboo. Domes, towers and vistas were intricately constructed and arrayed around the grand falls. The buildings suggested a classic style of more elegant, simple times, yet their fine detailing and immaculate condition declared the wealth of the planet for anybody caring to see it. Naboo was a highly successful world, despite being relatively far out from the core systems. The blockade in orbit may prove a minor inconvenience to the Republic, but to the world of Naboo and its people, the blockade was economically destructive. Lost revenues, a cut to luxury items just starting to be felt by the planet, and restriction of movement for local and interstellar merchants were all causing the government to become distinctly irate. The calm appearance of the royal city was in stark contrast to the attitude of the Queen and her ruling council.
With her back to a grand stained glass window, Queen Amidala sat in full ceremonial regalia as the governing council sat in session and consulted Senator Palpatine on distant Coruscant. Faces around the room were grim and upset, in contrast to the expression of the Senator, who while pausing to seem concerned at times, was nonetheless largely upbeat.
“This blockade cannot be accepted by the Senate,” said the Queen stiffly. “Every hour we lose revenue and the Republic appears weak in the eyes of its Mid-Rim and Out-Rim colonies. The actions of the Trade Federation blatantly violate Republic Law. Surely these facts are beyond dispute.”
The hologram of Senator Palpatine flickered for a moment as he began to address the queen.
“If only it were so, your grace. The Senate is debating whether the blockade does constitute an illegal action, or one of conscientious objection. I have little doubt myself that the blockade is illegal, but convincing more of my colleagues is at times a frustrating proposition. Fortunately, the Chancellor has already dispatched ambassadors to mediate the dispute. Our hope is that they will reach an accord with the Trade Federation before the Senate obfuscates the crisis any further.”
“Ambassadors?” queried the royal treasurer. He represented an element of the elder generation, and his seniority was obvious in his grey/white hair and balding hair-line. “We have been informed of no such delegation.”
The image of Palpatine flickered again and seemed to be losing resolution, but his expression of concern came through clearly enough.
“That is troubling. The Chancellor assures me the ambassadors...” the hologram flickered and static hissed over the comm. channel. “... they were to check in... Queen next. What is the blasted.... transmission... Highness?”
The image and sound cut out completely, to be replaced by a field of visual and audio static.
“What is this?” demanded the Queen, outrage flashing in her eyes. “What happened?”
Expressions around the council varied from frightened to grim. Though they did not always speak as one in matters of governance, they clearly held a common fear now.
“If the Trade Federation is jamming interplanetary signals, it can mean only one thing,” stated the treasurer. “Invasion.”
Captain Panaka of the Queen’s Guard spoke up at this.
“If troops are landed, they will be coming here first. The opportunity to capture the sitting government all at once will be too great to pass up. My men can delay a landing force, but we don’t have the numbers to repel an invasion.”
“You must be moved immediately your Highness,” advised the treasurer, having enthusiastically nodded in agreement with Panaka’s assessment. “You must not be put at risk.”
“No.”
“But, Highness...”
“I will not abandon my people,” said the Queen in a tone that allowed for no debate. “We will stand together and fight any invaders.”
“Highness, we are equipped as a police force and militia, not an army,” advised Captain Panaka, clearly torn between his duty to keep the Queen safe and his pledge to obey her commands. “The Trade Federation has a dozen battleships in orbit and easily outnumbers our entire planetary defence force. The Federation also favours droids which can be used in even higher concentrations. Simply put: we are outmatched.”
“Nonetheless, we cannot surrender our world without a fight, and I will not call upon my people to die while I hide behind them as human shields,” countered the Queen. “Can we be sure the Trade Federation means to land troops?”
“Without control of the orbital facilities we have no way of knowing until landing craft have already entered the atmosphere,” answered Captain Panaka. “There isn’t time to delay. At the very least move your ministers free of the palace so that they cannot all be incapacitated in one stroke.”
The Queen passed normally calm eyes across the assembled ministers and advisors. Her gaze now was hard and piercing.
“Our people need leaders. Leaders do not run; they champion the cause. Open the armoury and equip every able bodied citizen. We fight.”
Re: The Phantom Menace - Attempted Re-write
Trade Federation Battleship – T.F.S. Prime Venture
Sweat beading on their brows and anxiety tearing at their usual calm, Qui-Gon Gin and Obi-Wan Kenobi crouched low within the air duct. Though they had fled the droidekas, cameras and other droids marked their every move. It had only been at Qui-Gon’s insistence that the two had ducked into a ventilation shaft, and were now moving with less resistance through the ship. In time, the Trade Federation would track their movement and corner the Jedi. If that happened, their lives were forfeit.
“ I still do not see how this is an improvement” complained Obi-Wan. “We may have some greater freedom of movement, but here we are more easily cornered.”
“Patience,” counselled Qui-Gon to the younger man. “We are near the hangar now, and I sense Anakin is here. We need to find him before we move on.”
The two Jedi peered out of a grating and into the cavernous landing bay. A series of hovercraft were being loaded onto drop ships below. Droids folded into storage compartments and then were pulled onto the hovercraft; thousands could be seen, and long lines of the battle droids were still entering the hangar. The scene was a spectacle of coordination and destructive promise. Obi-wan tensed at seeing the assembling host. Qui-Gon reached over and gripped the younger man’s shoulder, pointing to a stack of crates and a loading vehicle that was cast to the side as the droids paraded onto landing craft. Huddled amongst the crates was a small, singed looking figure.
“Anakin,” whispered Qui-Gon. “We need to reach him.”
Obi-wan pressed against the grating with his hands and applied the Force to a few key points of resistance in order to pop the surface loose and open a path to the hangar for the Jedi. They silently dropped to the ground and moved to Anakin’s position.
“Master,” greeted the boy. His face was bruised and dried blood crusted his hair. His clothes were burned in a few spots, but no blood was visible. He shook his head in the negative to Qui-Gon’s concerned gaze. “The shuttle --- it’s gone.”
“I know,” whispered Qui-Gon. “We need to escape this ship immediately. It seems as though the Trade Federation was planning an invasion of Naboo from the start. It would account for the anxiety we detected and the presence of so many battleships. The people of Naboo need to be warned, and we must return word of these events to the Senate.”
“We can climb aboard the landing craft Master,” suggested Kenobi. “Two are near at hand waiting to be filled with droids. It looks as though there are only a few guards. We’ll need a distraction though.”
The two craft Obi-wan had mentioned were in the nearest corner of the hangar, a short distance away. They were temporarily in a holding position, but would no doubt be loaded with droids and equipment shortly.
The Jedi examined the area carefully. Most of the activity was taking place away from these landing ships, but as Obi-wan had described, several guards stood at attention near them. Anakin had a narrow look in his eye as he surveyed the scene then reached out with his hand and the Force before the older Jedi fully knew what he was doing. A large stack of cylindrical power cells was placed behind the ships. Anakin squeezed his hand slowly in a clasping motion, and one of the power cells at the bottom of the stack groaned and crumpled.
For a moment, nothing else happened. Then, with a mighty crash and explosion of sparks, the cylinder crumpled under the weight of the power cells stacked above it. In seconds, a chorus of shouts and angry retorts joined the clanging cacophony of cylinders spilling across the hangar bay, all away from the position of the beleaguered Jedi. Every guard on duty spun in the direction of the tumbling equipment, and many rushed toward it to help a number of droids and deck-hands who were frantically trying to contain the rolling power cells before the flow of marching droids was interrupted.
Obi-wan raised his eyebrows in surprise; the power cells were an impressive distance away for a young Padawan to have affected, and Anakin’s use of the Force had been strong, but subtle.
Qui-Gon didn’t spare a moment for surprise as he rounded the shelter of the crates and dashed up into the landing ship like a ghost. Anakin and Obi-wan followed barely a second later and the three settled in amongst the supplies as quickly as possible. They huddled themselves toward the rear of the ship, and waited for the sounds of chaos and cursing outside to subside. Within a few minutes, the ship was moving and the cargo compartment sealed.
“Are we sure this thing will hold oxygen when it disembarks?” asked Obi-wan.
Qui-gon raised an eyebrow at the other Jedi, the only sign of concern he would allow.
“It is a good question master,” noted Obi-wan, beginning to feel foolish. If Qui-gon were confident, he too should be.
“Relax,” offered Anakin, who by now had a wide grin on his face. “I have a good feeling about this.”
Sweat beading on their brows and anxiety tearing at their usual calm, Qui-Gon Gin and Obi-Wan Kenobi crouched low within the air duct. Though they had fled the droidekas, cameras and other droids marked their every move. It had only been at Qui-Gon’s insistence that the two had ducked into a ventilation shaft, and were now moving with less resistance through the ship. In time, the Trade Federation would track their movement and corner the Jedi. If that happened, their lives were forfeit.
“ I still do not see how this is an improvement” complained Obi-Wan. “We may have some greater freedom of movement, but here we are more easily cornered.”
“Patience,” counselled Qui-Gon to the younger man. “We are near the hangar now, and I sense Anakin is here. We need to find him before we move on.”
The two Jedi peered out of a grating and into the cavernous landing bay. A series of hovercraft were being loaded onto drop ships below. Droids folded into storage compartments and then were pulled onto the hovercraft; thousands could be seen, and long lines of the battle droids were still entering the hangar. The scene was a spectacle of coordination and destructive promise. Obi-wan tensed at seeing the assembling host. Qui-Gon reached over and gripped the younger man’s shoulder, pointing to a stack of crates and a loading vehicle that was cast to the side as the droids paraded onto landing craft. Huddled amongst the crates was a small, singed looking figure.
“Anakin,” whispered Qui-Gon. “We need to reach him.”
Obi-wan pressed against the grating with his hands and applied the Force to a few key points of resistance in order to pop the surface loose and open a path to the hangar for the Jedi. They silently dropped to the ground and moved to Anakin’s position.
“Master,” greeted the boy. His face was bruised and dried blood crusted his hair. His clothes were burned in a few spots, but no blood was visible. He shook his head in the negative to Qui-Gon’s concerned gaze. “The shuttle --- it’s gone.”
“I know,” whispered Qui-Gon. “We need to escape this ship immediately. It seems as though the Trade Federation was planning an invasion of Naboo from the start. It would account for the anxiety we detected and the presence of so many battleships. The people of Naboo need to be warned, and we must return word of these events to the Senate.”
“We can climb aboard the landing craft Master,” suggested Kenobi. “Two are near at hand waiting to be filled with droids. It looks as though there are only a few guards. We’ll need a distraction though.”
The two craft Obi-wan had mentioned were in the nearest corner of the hangar, a short distance away. They were temporarily in a holding position, but would no doubt be loaded with droids and equipment shortly.
The Jedi examined the area carefully. Most of the activity was taking place away from these landing ships, but as Obi-wan had described, several guards stood at attention near them. Anakin had a narrow look in his eye as he surveyed the scene then reached out with his hand and the Force before the older Jedi fully knew what he was doing. A large stack of cylindrical power cells was placed behind the ships. Anakin squeezed his hand slowly in a clasping motion, and one of the power cells at the bottom of the stack groaned and crumpled.
For a moment, nothing else happened. Then, with a mighty crash and explosion of sparks, the cylinder crumpled under the weight of the power cells stacked above it. In seconds, a chorus of shouts and angry retorts joined the clanging cacophony of cylinders spilling across the hangar bay, all away from the position of the beleaguered Jedi. Every guard on duty spun in the direction of the tumbling equipment, and many rushed toward it to help a number of droids and deck-hands who were frantically trying to contain the rolling power cells before the flow of marching droids was interrupted.
Obi-wan raised his eyebrows in surprise; the power cells were an impressive distance away for a young Padawan to have affected, and Anakin’s use of the Force had been strong, but subtle.
Qui-Gon didn’t spare a moment for surprise as he rounded the shelter of the crates and dashed up into the landing ship like a ghost. Anakin and Obi-wan followed barely a second later and the three settled in amongst the supplies as quickly as possible. They huddled themselves toward the rear of the ship, and waited for the sounds of chaos and cursing outside to subside. Within a few minutes, the ship was moving and the cargo compartment sealed.
“Are we sure this thing will hold oxygen when it disembarks?” asked Obi-wan.
Qui-gon raised an eyebrow at the other Jedi, the only sign of concern he would allow.
“It is a good question master,” noted Obi-wan, beginning to feel foolish. If Qui-gon were confident, he too should be.
“Relax,” offered Anakin, who by now had a wide grin on his face. “I have a good feeling about this.”