Jedi Council Forums - Community Fan Film Working Script--New Part IV NOW UP!!

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Author	Topic: Community Fan Film Working Script--New Part IV NOW UP!!
LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 2/24/08 4:46pm Subject: Community Fan Film Working Script--New Part IV NOW UP!! - Date Edited: 1/28 9:42pm (10 edits total) Edited By: LLL
	This is here for team members to see what we've done so far and make comments. Anyone is welcome to read. For simplicity's sake, let's please... PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. **Please note: "BOT" is a placeholder for a droid that is yet to be named. =========================================== FADE IN: A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title. War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... (Title) Dark times have befallen Naboo. Once a haven of justice and plenty, its economy has been retooled to benefit only the rich. While Palpatine's friends enjoy the beauty and bounty of the planet, Gungan slaves and common citizens suffer under the Emperor's displeasure. As the Galactic Civil War rages, fear reigns supreme. And on the streets where Padme` Amidala once walked, an Imperial family who's fallen from grace struggles for its very survival... EXT. CITY OF THEED-DAY The beautiful city gleams in midday sunlight. A road emerges from the outskirts and travels over a bridge. Outside the city the pavement ends, but the road continues through grassy fields. A group of Gungans paves the road. A guard shouts obscenities and administers shocks to the tired ones. A shantytown of tiny houses in poor repair stands in contrast to the grandeur of the capital city. EXT. SHANTYTOWN-DAY MELORA MEKLIS, sixteen, human, passes the Gungan workers on her way to the shantytown. Crashes and shouting fill the air. A stormtrooper stands guard over a woman, a little boy, and a girl her own age chained together as prisoners. MELORA (whispers) Sara! Psst! Melora waves at the girl. SARA waves her away with a manacled hand. Melora waves again. Sara ignores her. A hand jerks Melora back. She turns to find FIZA, her mother, pulling her across the grass. MELORA (CONT’D) Stop! I want to know what’s going on! Fiza grabs her daughter again, and they struggle. Fiza pulls her inside their nearby house. INT. MEKLIS HOUSE-DAY MELORA Let go of me! PON is heard coughing from within the house. FIZA The Empire thinks they’re Rebels. At least, that was the rumor when Madlyn didn’t show up for work today. MELORA We should go help them. FIZA Don’t be foolish. They’ll do the same to us. MELORA But what will happen to them? FIZA They’ll probably be sent somewhere worse than here. The hacking cough is heard again. MELORA Nowhere’s worse than here. FIZA Your father doesn’t need to know about this. It’ll only upset him. Fiza turns to leave. INT. BEDROOM-DAY Former Imperial Admiral PON MIKLIS sits in bed, hacking mightily. BOT stands over him, patting his back and offering him a handkerchief. Fiza enters and rushes to the bedside. FIZA Darling! Are you all right? PON (between coughs) I’m not that bad. BOT It’s good you’re home. Admiral Miklis has not been well today. Not well at all. He’s been coughing up blood all afternoon. There was really nothing I could do for him. Melora enters and goes to the window, looking out at the arrests going on next door. A crowd has gathered in the street. PON It’s just some congestion. Once I get it up... Fiza takes the handkerchief and inspects it. FIZA You should have had BOT come get one of us! You can’t be left alone like this. MELORA Right, Dad. What if you need to go the medcenter? PON We can’t afford the medcenter. FIZA Melora will stay with you tonight. I’ve been ordered to work the evening shift again. Melora overhears and leaves the window. MELORA But I just got a charter for tonight! If I pilot an extra shift we can get cough meds and groceries. FIZA Go and get your father a drink of water. Melora leaves the room. FIZA (CONT’D) I’ll be right back. Fiza kisses her husband and follows her. INT. HALLWAY-DAY FIZA There’s going to be hell to pay if we don’t get the Panaka mansion their cleaning droids back again by the eighth hour sharp. You’ll have to let someone else take it. MELORA I’m going to starve if we don’t buy some groceries. I’ve skipped lunch three days in a row. BOT passes by as more coughing is heard from the bedroom. INT. KITCHEN-DAY BOT fills a glass with water. FIZA (O.C.) He’s getting worse. If we could just save enough for a little bacta and panmycin! MELORA (O.C.) If I can fly my limo charter tonight we could at least get a little cough suppressant. FIZA (O.C.) I can’t be here, and I’m not leaving him alone with BOT all night, too. BOT Hmmph. FIZA (O.C.) Melora-- (quieter) What if he dies in the night? MELORA (O.C.) Oh, five moons, Mother! Melora stomps into the kitchen and goes to pour herself a glass of blue milk. MELORA (CONT’D) I can’t stand it. She’s so dramatic. BOT “A high or special regard; esteem.” MELORA I quit school to help Father. Stop with the vocabulary words. BOT Respect. Your parental units are attempting to help and protect you. MELORA If my father had really cared about me he’dve obeyed orders. If Lord Vader had’ve choked him to death we’d probably be better off! Melora starts to cry and holds it back. MELORA (CONT’D) I don’t mean that. But look at this mess we’re in! How does anybody do anything on this planet? For us, I mean. If we were still the Emperor’s cronies we’d be rolling in riches! BOT Frustration appears to be warranted in this situation. But your behavior is distressful to your mother. MELORA My father’s going to die, and we can’t even afford medicine! What kind of planet is this? BOT “Feebleminded or mental defectives who have a potential mental age of between eight and twelve years and are capable of doing routine work under supervision; very stupid people.” MELORA What? BOT Morons. MELORA You said it. BOT I don’t mean the governing structure of the planet. I mean the two of you, attempting to cope with the situation. MELORA Huh? BOT You have the means to acquire the appropriate medicine, yet you refuse to use those means. MELORA My parents are afraid to. And I don’t know what to do with that thing. INT. HALLWAY-NIGHT BOT stands outside the bedroom door. Loud coughing is heard inside. MELORA (O.C.) Do you want the vaporizer, Daddy? I think it might help. BOT turns and walks away. INT. KITCHEN-NIGHT BOT opens a kitchen cabinet and peers to the back of it, moving dishes out of the way. A small square safe with a glowing keypad is bolted to the wall. BOT powers through many combinations on the keypad. Finally a light blinks green and the safe opens. It looks empty. BOT reaches in and pulls out a microchip. S/he closes the safe, walks to the kitchen door, and looks both ways. Seeing no one, BOT walks to the front door and lets him/herself out into the night. EXT. MIKLIS HOUSE-NIGHT BOT opens a compartment on him/herself and inserts the microchip, then clicks and twitches as s/he reads the microchip. BOT Oh, Captain, shame on you. I think this information would greatly displease the Emperor. It should be worth more than enough. EXT. SHANTYTOWN-NIGHT BOT walks down the road, gleaming in the moonlight. EXT. THEED CITY GATES-NIGHT BOT hides behind a tree as two stormtroopers on patrol walk out of the city gates. BOT scampers in before the gates close. EXT. CITY OF THEED-NIGHT A bunch of loud, noisy youths carouse past BOT on the street outside of a bar. Several of them pelt BOT with pebbles. EXT. BRIDGE-NIGHT BOT hides under a bridge as a platoon of stormtroopers crosses above. BOT emerges from the bushes under the bridge. THIEF ONE and THIEF TWO grab the machine and jerk it off its feet. THIEF ONE Gotcha! THIEF TWO Come on, droid. You’re ours now! Any sound and we’ll snap your metal head right off. BOT No! No! Let go of me! BOT struggles. The two thieves take one arm and one leg and carry it off like a log, into the night. BOT (CONT’D) No! Put me down! Put me down! A stormtrooper guard close to the bridge hears the shouting and focuses upon the scene with his binoculars. BOT’s eyelights suddenly blink off and s/he goes silent. INT. HUT-SUNRISE BOT stands among many other droids in a small, cramped hut on the other side of Theed. All the droids are silent, dead. THIEF ONE Turn that new one back on again. Thief Two turns BOT on. BOT You’d better let me go. This is stealing, and you’re going to get into trouble. Thief Two inspects the droid. THIEF TWO I don’t think we’ll break this one down for parts. A little memory wipe, and we might even afford passage out of here. Thief One brings a cable over and they open a panel on BOT’s head. They start to attach the cable. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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1Yodimus_Prime Registered: Mar '04	Date Posted: 2/24/08 7:40pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script
	Interesting. So this is being written with the intent that it's going to be turned into a film? -----signature----- Rule 12: A soft answer turneth away wrath. Once wrath is looking the other way, shoot it in the head. --- http://boards.theforce.net/b/b1/26481069 - The Wise http://boards.theforce.net/B/b1/21283317 - Planet Hopping
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 2/24/08 8:17pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script
	Several writers from here and several fan filmers from the films board are all working on it, yes. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 2/28/08 6:50pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script
	BOT I would reconsider if I were you. THIEF TWO Shut up, droid. BOT I am an accounting droid in the palace of Moff Panaka. I possess all of his credit accoung numbers in my memory banks. The thieves look at each other. THIEF TWO Oh, yeah? All right. S/he drags BOT over to another computer and attaches a different cable. THIEF TWO (CONT’D) I’m going to connect you with the Sectorial Bank of Naboo. You withdraw us a few hundred thousand credits, you get to keep your memory. “Sectorial Bank of Naboo” comes up on the screen, followed by “Welcome Customer.” This is replaced by account numbers flashing across the screen. THIEF ONE I thought you said you had the account numbers, droid. BOT Um...why, yes. I’m simply going through his various accounts to locate the one with the largest balance. I’ll try to make the process go more slowly so that it’s easier to see. The thieves lean toward the computer screen. BOT reaches behind them to locate a long metal pipe and lift it slowly into the air. BOT’S hand trembles nervously. A knock sounds at the door. Thief One goes to open it. A squad of stormtroopers is standing there, led by a STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN with a data pad. STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN We have a search warrant for this address. One of our patrol officers observed a droid being stolen and transported here last night. THIEF ONE That was our own droid, Officer. Thief One steps back and waves an arm at the droids crowding the room. Thief Two turns to face the door, one hand on his/her blaster on the hip facing away from the door. THIEF ONE (CONT’D) Droid repair is our business. STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN Then why was it struggling and shouting, “No, no, put me down?” THIEF ONE Malfunction. As I said, droid repair is our-- Thief Two shoots the captain from across the room. A shootout ensues. The room is ablaze with blaster bolts. Quiescent droids shower sparks and fall over as they are hit. Stormtroopers pour into the room. BOT cowers down and crawls for the door, slipping out behind the last stormtrooper. EXT. HUT-DAY BOT gets to its feet. BOT That was too close! Thank the Maker I’m out of there. BOT scuttles down the path and resumes its journey. And that concludes Part One!! Darth Manion, take it away!! -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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DVCPRO-HDeditor Registered: Nov '06	Date Posted: 2/29/08 4:20pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	I'm hooked. -----signature----- "Murder is not a bannable offense here on TFN." ~ AdamBertocci Let Me Google That For You: http://tinyurl.com/5p4arw
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backdeskproductions Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 4/21/08 11:51am Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	This is turning out to be a cool little idea! -----signature----- I now have surround sound capabilities! I just need a project to exploit my newly discovered powers. Tee hee -Jon C. Maxwell
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DarthIshtar Title: Former CR Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 4/22/08 9:47am Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	Looking forward to what can be done in Part 2. -----signature----- "I feel like a more down-to-earth Pink 5 when I'm writing Leah. Same attitude, less lip gloss." ~Me on how to get in the right mindset for Twilight fanfic.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 5/2/08 6:38pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	Bumping as we're expecting an update momentarily, and I would just like to remind everyone: For simplicity's sake, let's please... PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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Jedsithor Registered: Oct '05	Date Posted: 5/2/08 8:19pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	Part 2. ------------------------------------ INT. CANTINA - AFTERNOON The cantina is dreary, with local residents drowning their sorrows in an almost dead atmosphere. Behind the bar, a series of screens show news and sports segments from around the galaxy. The BARTENDER is watching the screens, ignoring the calls of the customers to be served as he focuses on watching one of the sports events. A man, LARSON ZELL, is sitting at the bar, with a drink in his hand. He is rugged, unshaven, but visibly worn down. His clothes look like they haven’t been washed or even taken off for a month. LARSON downs the last of his drink and reaches over the bar, tapping the bartender on the shoulder, prompting him to turn around. LARSON ZELL Give me another one. BARTENDER Are you going to pay for this one? LARSON ZELL You know I’m good for it. BARTENDER You haven’t paid your tab in three months. I’m running a business here, not a charity. LARSON ZELL Just give me the drink alright, I’ve got your money. The bartender pulls a hose from under the bar, pouring a drink into Larson’s used glass. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) It’s just not right. How am I supposed to make a living out here? You’ve got Imperial Cruisers increasing their patrols, stopping every ship in the system...it’s getting harder to be an honest and independent business man-- BARTENDER (interrupting) You mean smuggler. LARSON ZELL I can’t even do that anymore. Rumors of the Empire making secret deals with the Hutts are everywhere, and there’s no way I’m going to work for them. One false move and I’d find myself in so much debt that Jabba would own me in this life and the next. If it wasn’t for the Rebellion I’d have no work at all. Larson takes a drink from his glass and then points to on of the screens behind the bar. The screen is showing an Imperial news report about a Rebel attack on an Imperial shipyard. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) Look at that. The Rebels know full well that the Empire will have that place up and running again in no time, but they attack it anyway. Someone has to clean up the mess and haul the debris off to some desolate world where the locals are too stupid to realize that they are getting garbage. Glorified sanitation. That’s what I do. And it’s not like the Empire pays well. BARTENDER Frankly, I don’t care. Just as long as they pay you enough to clear your tab. LARSON ZELL Wow, you really care for your customers, don’t you... BARTENDER Save it. Just pay up Zell. I don’t like people who try to talk their way out of paying their tab. Larson stands up from his stool and reaches into his pocket, taking out a handful of credits. He slams the money down on the bar, picks up his glass and drinks the last of its contents before setting it down. LARSON ZELL Happy now? BARTENDER Ecstatic. Larson turns and walks towards the exit while the bartender counts the money, putting it in the drawer, then turning back to the screens to watch his sports show. EXT. THEED - MARKET STREET Stalls line both sides of the street, their owners selling everything from exotic foods to engine parts. There is little room to move as a crowd of potential customers explore the stalls, searching for cheap goods. ASSORTED VOICES The finest fruit from the hydro farms of Aquilae, just 25 credits per bag......excuse me sir, do you have a ship? Then perhaps you would be interested in this practically new drive expansion modulator, guaranteed to enhance the performance of your hyperdrive....This processor you sold me is burned through my entire crop, I want my money back...sorry sir, no refunds...how much for that blaster coil...genuine Gungan dresses, all the rage among the fashion elite... Amidst the crowd, BOT is trying to find room to move, stopping people as they move by in a hurry, finding them uninterested in his plight. BOT (trying to get someone to stop and listen) Excuse me sir...might I have a moment of your...I wonder if you’d be...could I...if you’re not busy I.. BOT is looking around as he walks, trying to get someone’s attention, not watching where he is going as he is suddenly stopped in his tracks, bumping into the back of a large creature. BOT (CONT’D) Oh. Forgive me sir. Would you be... The creature turns around and BOT can now see that it is an angry-looking Gamorrean. The Gamorrean snarls viciously at the droid. BOT (CONT’D) Nevermind. BOT hurriedly scuttles away, as the Gamorrean snorts and lifts a large meat sandwich to his lips, taking a massive bite. EXT. DOCKING AREA Larson stands at the main gate to the Docking Area, confronting a DOCKING ADMINISTRATOR, who has a stormtrooper on either side of him, each of them holding rifles. LARSON ZELL You can’t do this. I need my ship. ADMINISTRATOR Perhaps you should have thought of that before you tried to land. LARSON ZELL How was I supposed to know that my landing permit was a fake? ADMINISTRATOR It is highly unlikely that you were unaware of this forgery. Indeed I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to forge it yourself. LARSON ZELL That’s not fair. ADMINISTRATOR You are lucky that I haven’t had you placed in detention Mr. Zell. If you want your ship back, you will have to pay your fine. LARSON ZELL Two thousand credits is a lot for a parking offence. I don’t have that kind of money, nobody on this planet does. ADMINISTRATOR You have been fined five hundred for landing without a permit and fifteen hundred for forging Imperial documents. Trust me Mr. Zell, I’m being lenient. LARSON ZELL Fine, whatever. Can’t you just give me a ticket, or work out a payment plan or something. I need my ship. ADMINISTRATOR I’m afraid that will not be possible. Imperial Transit regulations state that all fines must be paid in full before an impounded ship may be released. I would suggest you seek employment. LARSON ZELL But I can’t work without my ship. How am I supposed to deliver cargo if I can’t even get off the planet? ADMINISTRATOR That is not my problem. Furthermore, should you fail to pay your fine within 50 standard days, your ship will become the permanent property of the Imperial Fleet and will be stripped down for parts. LARSON ZELL You can’t do that. Larson moved towards the Administrator as if to threatens him, but stops as he glances at the stormtroopers, who are raising their weapons and pointing them at Larson. ADMINISTRATOR Good day Mr. Zell. Larson motions as if he is going to speak again, but instead just sighs and walks away. LARSON ZELL (muttering) Damn bureaucrats. EXT. MARKET BOT stands under an archway leading to a side street as he looks out at the market, visibly frustrated. BOT This is a vile place. Perhaps I should try the docking bays. He turns, not noticing Larson, who was walking through the alley behind him towards the market. They collide and Larson falls to the ground. BOT leans forward, his arm outstretched, offering it to Larson. BOT (CONT’D) I’m so sorry sir. Please allow me to help you stand. Larson ignores the droid’s hand and gets up himself. He dusts himself off and glares at the droid. LARSON ZELL Watch where you’re walking gear head. I’m in a bad enough mood as it is without some droid walking into me like an idiot. BOT Idiot...An utterly foolish or senseless person. A person of the lowest order in a former classification of mental retardation, having a mental age of less than three years old and an intelligence quotient under 25. LARSON ZELL Great, knocked down by a walking dictionary. BOT My master programmed me with explanations for specific phrases and words to help in translation. I believe he also found it amusing. LARSON ZELL Yeah, well if you do it again I’ll take you apart with a hydro spanner. Is that clear? BOT Yes sir. Larson shrugs and begins to move away, prompting BOT to rush after him. BOT (CONT’D) Excuse me Sir. Do you know where I might find a pilot? Zell stops and looks back at BOT. LARSON ZELL You’re looking at one. BOT (excited) Would it be possible for me to hire your services? LARSON ZELL Sorry, I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to, not until I pay the... Larson stops, looking the droid up and down, studying him. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) How much are you worth? BOT I am afraid I do not understand. LARSON ZELL Are you in full working order? Are all your parts in the right place? When was your last maintenance check? BOT My parts are functioning normally sir. My last overhaul was eight months ago. A beat, as Larson glances out towards the market then back at the droid. LARSON ZELL Alright, come with me. Larson grabs the droid by the arm and begins leading him through the market. BOT Excuse me sir but...where are we going? The Docking Bay is in the other direction. LARSON ZELL Just shut up. If you want me to take you off this rock then there’s something I need you for. Moving through the crowd, they eventually arrive at one of the larger stalls, containing an assortment of droid parts. The vendor is a Rodian, and he stands at his stall, busily running a cloth over a detached head of an old Trade Federation battle droid. RODIAN (Huttese) Can I help you sir? Are you interested in my wares? I have many fine parts that would enhance your droid and increase its value. LARSON ZELL Actually I’m here to sell. I’m moving to another system and I can’t take my droid with me. It’s in great condition and-- BOT Excuse me sir but you can’t sell me. LARSON ZELL (to BOT) Be quiet. (turns back to Rodian) Are you interested? The Rodian glances at Larson and then studies the droid. RODIAN (Huttese) It looks to be in good condition. I’ll give you Eight Hundred. LARSON ZELL What? It’s worth at least three thousand. RODIAN (Huttese) I believe you over-estimate demand for protocol droids. If it was a personal protection unit, then maybe I could give you more, but not even the those rich snobs at the palace will pay more than a thousand for a protocol droid. LARSON ZELL It’s not just an ordinary protocol droid. It’s top of the line. You can at least give me two thousand. Look at the workmanship on the coverings. RODIAN (Huttese) I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that much. I could maybe go as far as nine hundred but that’s not going to leave much room to sell it on, not if I want to make any kind of profit. I’m sorry but I just cannot go any higher. BOT Excuse me, but I am not his to sell. My master is a former Admiral in the Imperial Fleet and he would not be pleased if I were to be sold. RODIAN (Huttese) This droid is stolen? Look, I’m in enough trouble as it is with the tax authority. I don’t want to attract even more attention for the Empire for possessing stolen goods. It’s a huge risk. LARSON ZELL The droid doesn’t know what he’s talking about. It’s just gone too long without a memory wipe, that’s all. RODIAN Well I can’t take that chance. (looks at the droid) I’ll give you four hundred. LARSON ZELL No deal. Is everybody out to screw me today? (a beat) Forget it. Larson turns away, dragging the droid with him back through the market. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) Thanks a lot. Thanks to your big mouth I don’t have the money to get my ship out of impound. BOT But sir, I do not belong to you. You had no right to try to sell me. LARSON ZELL I wasn’t going to sell you. I just needed the money to pay the fine. I would have gotten you back. The droid stares at Larson. LARSON ZELL OK, so maybe I wouldn’t. But now neither of us are getting off this planet. Not unless you have a few thousands of credits stashed between your processors or have a way to alter Imperial records. BOT If that is what is required then I shall do my best. BOT breaks free of Larson’s loose grip and walks over to a nearby computer terminal. Raising his hand, the droid moves a finger towards an access socket under the screen. Larson watched, slightly confused as the metal coverings around the droids finger retract, revealing a small plug device which BOT connects to the socket. On the screen, Larson can see that the droid is accessing the Imperial network. LARSON ZELL What are you doing? BOT You said that your ship has been impounded. I am attempting to change that. You implied that you would take me off this planet if I did so, did you not? LARSON ZELL I guess I did. If I’d known you can do that, I could have passed you off an infiltration droid to that Rodian. On the display screen, the logo of the IMPERIAL TRANSIT AUTHORITY appears momentarily before being replaced by a scrolling list of records containing information of various ships. BOT I am not yours to sell. Also, I do not believe the vendor would have given you the amount you wanted no matter what you said. LARSON ZELL You’re right. He would have screwed me. Alright gear head, you’ve got a deal. If you can get my ship out of impound, I’ll take you whereever you want to go. BOT Thank you. I am grateful for your help. (beat) I have accessed the appropriate files. What is the name of your ship? LARSON ZELL It’s called the “Solar Flare”. A beat, as the droid finds the right file and changes the record to show that the fine has been paid. He then removes the plug on his finger from the socket as the metal covering expand to cover it once again. BOT It is done. Will you take me with you off world now? LARSON ZELL Sure. A deal’s a deal, right? Besides, I might be able to use you. Larson and BOT leave the market, heading back towards the alley where they first bumped into each other, leading towards the Docking Area. EXT. SHANTYTOWN - DUSK Fiza stands outside the door to her house, facing two Stormtroopers, designated LK-692 and GV-415. She looks worried. LK-692 We intercepted a small operation dealing in stolen droids, but we didn’t any matching the description of your missing unit. FIZA Are you sure? Can’t you check again? BOT is the only thing we have left. You have to find him. GV-415 Please, calm down. We have checked thoroughly and we are certain that your droid wasn’t among the ones that were discovered. If it was among them at any point, it is possible that it was sold on before we intercepted the thieves. LK-692 Or perhaps its restraining bolt has malfunctioned. FIZA He doesn’t have a restraining bolt. GV-415 When was the last time you had its memory wiped? FIZA Never. My husband wouldn’t allow it. GV-415 Then it’s possible that your droid’s primary programming has broken down. LK-692 It’s not uncommon, especially among protocol droids, for anomalies to appear within their programming that gives the illusion of sentience or combines old programming code into a single random command. It’s possible that your droid simply got up and walked away for no reason other than it believed it had been programmed to. FIZA (upset) Not BOT. He wouldn’t just run away. LK-692 It’s probably just wandering the streets. We’ll keep an eye out and if we find anything, we’ll contact you. The stormtroopers walk away and Fiza opens the door to her house and steps inside. INT. MEKLIS HOUSE MELORA is standing just inside the door as her mother enters. MELORA Well? FIZA Nothing. They said they would let us know if they find him. MELORA Fat chance of that. BOT’s probably found himself a rich master to serve. Maybe he has the right idea. FIZA Melora Meklis! How dare you say such a thing. Your father needs your support, not your condemnation. MELORA Even if they find him, do you really think they’ll just bring him back? The Empire is known for good deeds. Look what they did to us. If I wasn’t stuck here I’d join the rebellion and make those Imperial slugs pay for what they’ve done. FIZA Keep your voice down. In spite of everything your father is still loyal to the Emperor. If he heard you even mention the possibility of joining the Rebels, he’d have a heart attack. They stand silently for a moment as PON coughs violently off screen. MELORA (whispers) He’s getting worse. FIZA (whispers sadly) I know. EXT. DOCKING BAY 12 A small freighter, the SOLAR FLARE, stands, it’s engines humming as they warm up and come to life. The outer hull of the ship is worn, covered in scrapes and dents. The ship is old, almost rusting in some areas and in dire need of a major overhaul, or perhaps should even be stripped down and sold for scrap. A dozen stormtroopers stand near the entrance to the docking bay, as on either side, a couple of manned gun turrets are pointed towards the ship. The stormtroopers seem relaxed however, as the ship prepares for take off. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT Larson sits in the pilot’s seat, looking over the controls as he prepares the ship for take off. Beside him, BOT sits in the copilot’s seat, strapped in as he peers through the windscreen at the stormtroopers. LARSON ZELL So, where are we going? BOT To Bestine. LARSON ZELL Are you sure? There’s a quiet little bar on Corellia that showcases the finest practitioners in Twi’lek exotic dance. It’s cheap too. BOT I am quite sure, sir. I have a mission to complete. LARSON ZELL It’s your loss... (looks across at BOT) Maybe not. Alright, Bestine it is. EXT. DOCKING BAY 12 The Solar Flare starts to rise from the ground, it’s engines beginning to glow with more power. The Docking Administrator enters, walking to the stormtrooper manning the gun turret on the right side. ADMINISTRATOR Why are you allowing the ship to take off? I ordered it to be impounded until the fine was paid. STORMTROOPER LK-771 (handing the Administator a datapad) The records show that it has, Sir. The Administrator studies the datapad as the ship rises higher, out of the docking bay and into the air over the city. ADMINISTRATOR There’s no way that spawn could have paid the fee so quickly. A beat, as the Administrator looks at the datapad, then up at the departing ship. ADMINISTRATOR (CONT’D) I didn’t authorise this. Take that ship down trooper. STORMTROOPER LK-771 (targeting the ship with the turret) It’s out of range Sir. ADMINISTRATOR Damn. Contact the orbital patrol. I want that ship stopped. EXT. SPACE - ABOVE NABOO The Solar Flare rockets out of the atmosphere, heading away from the planet. Three Tie-Fighters advance from the far side, following behind the ship. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT An alarm sounds on the dashboard as Larson maneuvers the ship into deep space. BOT What is that? LARSON ZELL The proximity alert. We’ve got some TIE’s on out tail. Another light flashes, prompting Larson to press a button that opens communications. ADMINISTRATOR (O.S.) (filtered) Larson Zell, that ship is the property of the Galactic Empire, under transit regulation seventy one dash four. LARSON ZELL I don’t know what your talking about. I suggest you check your records. I paid your fine. ADMINISTRATOR (O.S.) (filtered) We both know you didn’t pay that fine Zell. You altered the record. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you did. Now turn that ship around or I will have you destroyed. LARSON ZELL No can do. Larson turns off the communicator and spots BOT looking at him. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) He’s bluffing. The ship rocks suddenly and violently as a laser blast impacts against the hull. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) Great. Just what this ship needs, another dent. EXT. SPACE The Solar Flare twists and rolls, trying to avoid the blaster bolts of the three TIE-Fighters as they fly in formation, chasing the freighter and shooting at it. The main gun on the top of the freighter turns and begins firing back at the TIE’s, blowing one of them to smithereens. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT LARSON ZELL That’ll teach ‘em. BOT The other two are still shooting. Laser blasts fly across the windscreen as one of the remaining TIE’s moves and turns to face the ship, flying at it head on. LARSON ZELL Shut up. The Navicomputer should have the co-ordinates any moment now. EXT. SPACE One TIE is behind the freighter, shooting and chasing while the other is flying from the front, straight at the ship, shooting all the way. The freighter turns sideways to avoid collision while the turret on top of the ship turns and fires, destroying the chasing TIE. The last TIE flips around to chase, once again firing, targeting the engines. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT LARSON ZELL Oh no you don’t. A soft beep from the dashboard alerts Larson as he puts his hand on a one of the larger levers. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) It’s about time. Well it’s been fun, but I’m afraid I just can’t stay. He pushes forward on the lever...but nothing happens. BOT Sir, I believe... LARSON ZELL Save it. Larson gets out of his seat and steps towards a large control panel on the rear cockpit wall. BOT looks back at him, then at the dashboard. Reaching out, he presses a button, causing the ship to surge forward as the stars begin to stretch outside the windscreen. Meanwhile, the sudden rush causes Larson to fall to the floor. EXT. SPACE The Solar Flare shoots off into the distance, disappearing in an instant, while the last remaining TIE turns around, heading back to Naboo. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT Larson shakes his head as he gets up from the floor, taking a moment to look through the windscreen where he sees the familiar blue glow of a Hyperspace tunnel. LARSON ZELL What happened? What did you do? BOT The Hyperdrive was inactive. LARSON ZELL You mean you turned it on? BOT Yes sir. LARSON ZELL I knew that. (beat) Well I won’t be going back to that planet again. Guess it doesn’t matter. We’re on our way to Bestine. But don’t think I’m doing this for free. I expect some kind of payment. BOT I am a droid sir. I carry no currency. LARSON ZELL Well let’s just say you owe me one. BOT One what sir? LARSON ZELL A favour. And when it’s time to collect I expect you to do what is required. BOT As you wish. (beat) Do you have long range communications? LARSON ZELL (points out of the cockpit) Through there. EXT. HYPERSPACE The Solar Flare, speeds through Hyperspace, racing through the endless blue, glowing tunnel. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COMMUNICATIONS BOT stands in front of a control panel, looking at a holocamera. On a platform in front of him a flickering image of an Imperial officer appears. IMPERIAL OFFICER (HOLO) (filtered) Governors office. BOT I’d like to speak with Governor Krane. IMPERIAL OFFICER The Governor is unavailable. However I can transmit any message to one of his aids. BOT I’m afraid I can only speak to the Governor. IMPERIAL OFFICER (HOLO) (filtered) As I’ve already informed you, he is unavailable. BOT He will want to hear what I have to say. Larson looks in on the conversation, making sure to remain unseen. END OF PART II -----signature----- KOTOR Movie Trilogy Forums: http://z11.invisionfree.com/KOTOR_Movies
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DarthIshtar Title: Former CR Registered: Mar '01	Date Posted: 5/29/08 1:29am Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART ONE COMPLETED.
	INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT Outside the windscreen, the mottled sky of hyperspace is still visible. LARSON is in the pilot's chair, obviously at ease with his booted feet resting on top of the navcomputer. BOT is sitting in the navigator's chair, head tilted attentively. LARSON Bestine IV's a pretty big place. Are you going to give me an address or just hope I guess where you're going when I get the landing permit? BOT I don't have an address, sir. My records of the place are far too outdated to be reliable. Larson rolls his eyes at this as if he expected nothing less from a droid. LARSON Well, tintype, that's gonna be a bit of a problem. BOT I do not see why, sir. LARSON Well, see, you ain't in Theed anymore. You can't just tell me to hang a left at the third fish and expect me to be happy about it. BOT Indeed not, sir. Navigating by marine life is highly impractical. LARSON You don't say. So, how are you expecting to find this guy? BOT Well, sir, it's true that Bestine hosts many thriving metropolitan centers of industry... Larson holds up a hand to stall him. LARSON Hey, shiny, can you just stow the thesaurus and give me a straight answer? BOT I believe I take your meaning, sir. LARSON And quit calling me sir. Makes me queasy. BOT I have no desire to induce nausea. I shall call you Captain when the need for formality arises. LARSON Good enough. BOT As for your straight answer, Bestine IV is a big place, but there are a limited number of medical facilities. At that, Larson sits up a little straighter and looks at Bot as if he's lost his electronic marbles. LARSON You're looking for a doc halfway across the Mid-Rim? BOT In a manner of speaking, yes. Larson grins uncertainly at the thought that maybe the droid has fried one too many circuits and this is a wild bantha chase. LARSON Don't mean to sound insensitive, but didn't you kinda...oh, I don't know...forget the patient? Bot turns his head towards the windscreen and if he were a human, his posture might have looked homesick. BOT No, Captain. I doubt that I'll ever forget this patient. (beat) There's a man on Bestine IV who can hardly be called a healer, but who has exactly what I need. LARSON Like a few thousand credits to pay your fare? Bot turns back to face him. BOT There are more useful things than currency, but I will find a way to compensate you. LARSON Just as long as you don't use that 'more useful things than currency' line when I try to collect. EXT. BESTINE IV The Solar Flare exits hyperspace and begins its descent towards Bestine IV. EXT. BESTINE IV CAPITOL SPACEPORT - DAY The Solar Flare loops halfway around the port and enters a docking bay. INT. DOCKING BAY The Solar Flare comes to a stop and settles down. The docking bay is exponentially in better repair than anything we have witnessed in the scenes on Theed. When the Flare touches down, there is very little dust kicked up. The docking ramp lowers and LARSON swaggers out, followed by BOT. He takes a look around, one hand on his blaster butt, but doesn't seem to find anything wrong. He turns to BOT. LARSON So, I got you here. What's your next brilliant move? BOT Well, most capitol spaceports have public access Holonet terminals. If you can locate one, I should be able to guide you through the process of locating the doctor. Larson turns sharply. LARSON Wait one number-crunching minute, rustbucket. Whaddya mean guide me? BOT Captain, this is an Imperial-held world. A droid acting on its own initiative would raise suspicion, to say nothing of a droid attempting to access military personnel files. Larson reacts in exasperation. LARSON Right, and having a human do that won't seem odd at all. BOT When it comes to humans, they tend to overlook most customers. As long as you don't act nervous, security forces should be a bit slow on the uptake. Because I will be here on the Flare's computer, I will be able to provide you with the necessary information to access the files without too much delay. Larson glowers at him. LARSON And what am I supposed to do if they're not slow on the uptake? BOT Improvise. Lie. You showed an aptitude for such things on Naboo. LARSON Nice. Maybe I should just forget the fare and leave you here. BOT If you're not interested in the credits, you're perfectly welcome to do so. There are many other smugglers looking for passengers. Larson shakes his head in disgust. LARSON This was NOT in the original price negotiation. BOT Not to worry, Captain. You will be... LARSON Compensated. Yeah. I've heard that somewhere before. BOT Just try not to get yourself arrested. It would hinder our efforts and it is much harder to forge a bail payment than to get a ship out of hock. LARSON Oh, well, we'd hate to hinder your efforts. He turns and stalks off, leaving Bot to return to the ship. INT. HOLONET CAFE - MIDDAY This is like unto an internet cafe. There are perhaps two dozen computer terminals scattered around at counters with chairs at each one. Larson enters and swipes a credit wafer through the reader. The proprietor points him in the direction of an empty station. He settles in, fiddling with a comm earpiece that was clearly not his idea. The entire conversation with Bot will be under Larson's breath and with Bot as a voiceover. LARSON I'm here. How long is this going to take? BOT (VO) It depends on the complexity of the user identification code needed to access the Bestine Medical Services database... Larson looks around and takes in the other bored-looking customers, none of whom have given him a second glace as Bot continues to technobabble. LARSON Brilliant idea. You couldn't have done this before I got here? BOT Efficiency demanded that we use an on-world interface. Read a news briefing if you must, but look busy. LARSON Fine. Just hurry it up, will ya? BOT Access forgery is a precise art, sir, but I'll try to hurry it up. Larson accesses the INN--Imperial News Network--and scrolls through two stories about Rebel activities and the Senate's new bill on anti-alien laws before finding a game to play. He is finally engrossed in that when Bot interrupts. BOT I believe I have an appropriate user ID and password. Larson minimizes the game window and pulls up the GFFA equivalent of Google. LARSON What am I looking for? BOT Search parameters "Bestine Medical Services Employee Portal." Larson types this in and hits the search button. As he is doing this, two stormtroopers pass by outside and he looks nervously over his shoulder. They take no notice of him and he turns back to the screen, where he is redirected to the Portal. LARSON All right. Shoot. BOT User ID Cresh-Aurek-Dorn-112680. Password 100131522234. After a moment, a menu comes up with a request: "Please select from the following options." He selects Personnel Database and waits for it to open. The stormtroopers pass by again, on the opposite side of the street, but at a more leisurely pace. The proprietor passes behind him on the way to help someone who is having difficulties and Larson hunches towards the screen as if he's trying to hide a test paper. Once the proprietor has passed, he types in Bel Maden, Jonhin. 0 results come up. LARSON It's a no-go. How many ways are there to spell Bel Maden? BOT Is that a hypothetical question or would you like me to start with the Aurabesh rendering and end with the Zabrak carioglyphic equivalent? LARSON Quick. Gimme something else or I'm signing off. Things are starting to get interesting around here. BOT One moment. If he's working for the Imperial Naval Hospital Network, his assignment may be listed under the military. LARSON That's what I'm talking about! Where do I look up that? BOT It will require a military-grade access cipher, a user ID and a password. This may take a few minutes. LARSON Get on it. I can only take playing Comet-blasters so long. Larson goes back to playing his game. After a bit, the proprietor passes by again and it's not clear this time if this is a regular habit or if he checks up on all customers who are looking nervous and jumping at shadows. Larson immediately starts looking through the INN listing of local weather forecasts. He also raises his voice. LARSON Yes, dear. I'll stop at the store on the way back. I just need to send these files to Varsch at the office or he'll have my head. No, I didn't forget what day it is. It's Atunda and you're making fish sticks. Do you want reduced-fat milk? No, no, no, I did not say you're fat. I just know how particular you are about those things! Yes, I know how long we've been married. Why would I forget that? No, I didn't forget the date. It's...Oh. I'll be home a little later than I expected. Don't worry. Love you, too. Sometime during this apostrophe, Bot has reported the necessary information. Larson goes to the main menu, selects a different option and starts typing furiously. Over the top of his computer screen, we can see the proprietor going back to his datapad. Apparently, it's been a false alarm.INT. A new screen comes up and he types in Bel Maden, Jonhin. An abstract lists him as working at the Bestine Garrison Hospital and lists a comm code. LARSON Got it. I'm out of here. BOT Well done. Your work there is finished. Larson glances through some local news at INN for good measure and then signs off. He stands up just as Bot speaks again. BOT Your next stop is at the corner of 39th and East... LARSON Whoa, whoa, whoa. I never said I was running another errand! BOT Would you rather we spend the rest of the day hoping Dr. Bel Maden shows up for a shift? LARSON When you get around to compensating, I'd damn well better get a tip! BOT As I said, your next stop is at the corner of 39th and East Municipal Drive... The last shot of the scene is of Larson ripping the earpiece out in agggravation. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COMMUNICATIONS Alone in the communications room, Bot dials a number and on the holoscreen an image appears of the logo of the Imperial Medical Corps with the aurabesh equivalent of 'hold, please.' A moment later, a prim young woman in medical scrubs appears on the screen. DR. LYR Bestine Garrison Hospital. How may I assist you? BOT Greetings, madam. My master requires immediate medical attention. Can you receive him? DR. LYR Is your master a member of the Imperial Armed Forces? BOT No, madam. The Captain is an independent contractor for the Empire. His contract dictates that, in the case of an emergency, he may utilize the Empire's medical facilities for a considerable fee. We have the necessary datawork. Dr. Lyr brightens as if having an off-world patient is a welcome novelty. DR. LYR How bad is it? Is the patient conscious? BOT Oh, yes, madam. He will almost certainly survive. We simply ran afoul of those dreadful rebels and he is in considerable pain. DR. LYR I think we can help. We're not too busy today and Dr. Bel Maden just came on duty. Transmit the contract information and get traffic control to park you at the garrison's Docking Bay 215. BOT You have my most sincere thanks, madam. We will be sure to dock at Bay 215. DR. LYR Bestine Garrison Hospital out. The comm screen shuts off and the camera moves to a new position so that we see that Larson has been listening in on the whole conversation. LARSON Considerable pain, huh? Like what I'm feeling after having spent the whole afternoon running from one end of that miserable spaceport to the other? BOT (Serenely) If you are traced for one of those infractions, the variety of access points will almost guarantee that you will not be linked to the other crimes. Larson rolls his eyes and leans against the doorjamb. LARSON Well, thanks. That almost guarantee means a lot. Now, what's this about considerable pain? BOT Their suspicions would be aroused if you made the journey to another planet to treat a stubbed toe, Captain. Larson shrugs. LARSON Fair enough. I'll get us over to 215. BOT Do you require directions? LARSON It's an Imperial garrison. Kinda hard to miss. BOT I see your point. Larson pauses as he straightens up, looking worried. LARSON I don't have to shoot myself to make it convincing, do I? Bot turns to face him and tilts his head in amusement. BOT Only if you feel it to be necessary, sir. I wouldn't encourage it. He leaves the communications center and Larson follows a moment later. LARSON Well, that's a relief... End of Part II INT. GARRISON MEDCENTER-TRIAGE AREA Dr. Lyr looks up as Larson and Bot enter. Larson is leaning heavily on Bot and moaning dramatically. He also has a stained wad of fabric shoved against his ribs as if he's trying to stop a bleeding wound. LARSON Doc, you gotta help me. DR. LYR Good stars, you said he would survive! BOT Yes, madam. I also said he was in considerable pain. DR. LYR Not to worry, Captain. We'll take excellent care of you. LARSON Good. Now, don't suppose you've got any medicinal whiskey on hand? Bot jostles him pointedly and he yells suddenly. Dr. Lyr looks rather alarmed by this and hurries to steady Larson. DR. LYR Droid, help me place him on a gurney. I will call Dr. Bel Maden immediately. They get Larson situated on a gurney and Bot begins pushing him towards an examination while Dr. Lyr heads in a direction. BOT Captain, you're going to make them suspicious. LARSON You said to make it convincing! BOT Yes, very convincing that when shot, your first concern is inebriation. LARSON Hey, that'd convince me... INT. MEDCENTER EXAM ROOM Bot enters, pushing Larson's gurney. Larson looks extremely comfortable. LARSON So, we got you in and your friend's probably convinced I'm braving a ruptured spleen or something. How do we want to play this? BOT We don't play anything. You lay back and let me do the talking. At that moment, Dr. Bel Maden enters at a brisk pace and they both fall silent. He does not seem to notice this. Instead, he grabs a medscanner and powers it up. BEL MADEN I'm Dr. Bel Maden. What seems to be the problem? LARSON Damn Rebels. Try and do one easy run and they shoot ya for what you've got. Don't think it's too bad, but... He jumps as Bel Maden probes his abdomen. LARSON Blast, doc! Whaddya do, soak your hands in ice cubes first? BEL MADEN (Impatiently) Lie still, young man. It will do no good to exacerbate things. LARSON Fine, fine. BEL MADEN Where were you shot? LARSON Nar Shadda, bantha brain! What does it matter? BEL MADEN I meant to say, where did the blaster bolt enter your skin? Larson peels away the stained wad of cloth to reveal a blaster. LARSON Don't know, doc. Where do you want it? Bel Maden immediately bolts for the emergency button on the wall, but runs smack into Bot on the way. He does not go down, but staggers back. LARSON I wouldn't do that, brainless. I've been stuck on my ship for two days with this walking dictionary and I'm just dying to shoot someone. I don't care who. Bel Maden straightens and looks haughtily at them both. BEL MADEN I see. I am here to save a life. You are here to take one. LARSON Not really. I just think losing a few fingers would be character-building. Bel Maden interposes Bot between him and Larson. LARSON I really wouldn't do that. I think you're a stuffed shirt, but squeaky here's got an actual grudge. BOT That's not entirely true, sir. I am not programmed to hold grudges. LARSON Fine, if you want to be picky about it... BEL MADEN I don't negotiate with mercenaries and if you care to threaten me any further, I won't hesitate to bring the Constabulary down on your empty heads. LARSON Oh, I kinda doubt that. BEL MADEN Would you like to test your theory? BOT No need, doctor. I have all the information you require here. He opens the panel on his chest and removes the microchip before handing it over to Bel Maden. The doctor inserts it in a panel of the medscanner usually used for medical history chips. Almost imperceptibly, something in his expression hardens and his face loses some of its color. BEL MADEN So, Meklis sent you. He's still on Naboo? BOT You should know, sir. You were the one who saw to it that he was sent there. BEL MADEN Don't jump to conclusions. He displeased Vader. He would have been sent there with or without my help. BOT Oh, yes. I'm quite certain that your role in his incarceration had nothing to do with the fact that he could confirm your hand in the death of an Admiral. Bel Maden does not respond to the accusation, only sets the medscanner down. He looks accusingly at Larson. BEL MADEN I suppose you're just along for the ride? LARSON Naw, this is quality entertainment. Bel Maden turns back to Bot. BEL MADEN What is so urgent that Meklis sent his droid halfway across the known Galaxy to blackmail a loyal son of the Empire? BOT His family thinks he has the Bonadan Cough. BEL MADENb (dismissively) Bacta and pamlycin can both be bought for the right price at any medcenter, even in a wasteland such as Naboo. BOT Sir, he requires a full regimen of methotrex, including associated antibiotics and prescriptions to prevent renal damage... Larson coughs pointedly. Bot continues unfazed. BOT And you will be paying my pilot's fare. Bel Maden looks disgusted by this and looks once more at the emergency call button. Larson dissuades him by releasing the safety on the blaster. BEL MADEN A steep price. What makes you think that your little microchip is worth all that? BOT I confess that I'm not familiar with such things. Shall we ask the Emperor? Bel Maden snatches his medscanner back and ejects the chip. He holds it between thumb and forefinger with a taunting smirk. BEL MADEN Regardless of how trigger-happy your friend here is, I could destroy this in a heartbeat and you wouldn't have a durasteel leg to stand on. BOT That is true, doctor. Are you confident that you are in possession of the only copy? Bel Maden stares hard at Bot as if waiting for him to blink. Larson lays back as if wishing he had a bowl of popcorn for this. Finally, Bel Maden wrenches open the chest panel and shoves the microchip back into the compartment before slamming the door. He turns and glares resentfully at Larson. BEL MADEN Take off your shirt. LARSON Hey! That wasn't part of the deal. BEL MADEN You came in here acting like a stuck gorrnt. If I let you leave without at least a pressure bandage, it will arouse suspicion. Sit up and take off your shirt. Larson looks placated by this and shoves his blaster back into its holster before unbuttoning his shirt. Bel Maden takes the "blood-stained" cloth and throws it into a waste disposal unit with a snort of disgust. He removes a sterile pad and a bandage from a drawer to his left and places the pad over a spot on Larson's abdomen before winding the bandage around his torso. Dr. Lyr passes by and Bel Maden speaks loudly enough for her to hear. BEL MADEN You should be fine. If you'll meet me at the east exit in ten minutes, I should have your medicine ready for you. LARSON Thank you, doctor. You've been very kind. He scrambles to his feet much to quickly for a hurt man and pulls on his shirt. LARSON Pleasure doing business with you. EXT. GARRISON MEDCENTER - DAY Larson is lounging against a pillar, watching the female pedestrians. Bot is standing stiffly nearby. LARSON Think he's going to do it? BOT Do what, Captain? Agree to our demands or bring down the constabulary on our empty heads? LARSON Either. BOT I think he'll do both. I suggest we beat a hasty retreat. LARSON No arguments there. The door opens and Bel Maden exits, looking appropriately nervous. He shoves a large box into Larson's arms with unnecessary force. BEL MADEN Everything you need. I trust we won't be hearing from your people for a prescription refill? BOT As long as you have kept your word. BEL MADEN Leave now, before I decide to report that an armed low-life and his protocol droid escaped from the medcenter with a few hundred doses of controlled substances. Neither of them bother to thank him or even say goodbye. They simply head across to Bay 215 and disappear through its door. Bel Maden waits until they're out of sight before removing a commlink from his pocket and thumbing it on. BEL MADEN Bel Maden here. I need to be connected to the CO's office on the Exsanguinator. Code clearance aurek-99161. END PART III -----signature----- "I feel like a more down-to-earth Pink 5 when I'm writing Leah. Same attitude, less lip gloss." ~Me on how to get in the right mindset for Twilight fanfic.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 6/3/08 9:34pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--PART THREE COMPLETED. - Date Edited: 6/3/08 9:48pm (2 edits total) Edited By: LLL
	What's going up now are the edits that are being made to the first three parts, plus the edited part four. I would have replaced the above posts with these latest versions...but I can only edit my own posts here. Following is what we hope will be our final version of Part One..."A Droid's Quest." Please note, the only thing I haven't edited yet is the opening crawl. When I have to do those, I like to save 'em for dead last. ====================================== FADE IN: A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title. War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away... (Title) Dark times have befallen Naboo. Once a haven of justice and plenty, its economy has been retooled to benefit only the rich. While Palpatine's friends enjoy the beauty and bounty of the planet, Gungan slaves and common citizens suffer under the Emperor's displeasure. As the Galactic Civil War rages, fear reigns supreme. And on the streets where Padme` Amidala once walked, an Imperial family who's fallen from grace struggles for its very survival... EXT. CITY OF THEED-DAY The beautiful city gleams in midday sunlight. A road emerges from the outskirts and travels over a bridge. Outside the city the pavement ends, but the road continues through grassy fields. A group of Gungans paves the road. A guard shouts obscenities and administers shocks to the tired ones. A shantytown of tiny houses in poor repair stands in contrast to the grandeur of the capital city. EXT. SHANTYTOWN-DAY MELORA MEKLIS, sixteen, human, passes the Gungan workers on her way to the shantytown. As she approaches the closest house, crashes and shouting fill the air. A stormtrooper stands guard over a woman, a little boy, and a girl her own age chained together as prisoners. MELORA (whispers) Carre`! Psst! Melora waves at the girl. CARRE` waves her away with a manacled hand. Melora waves again. Carre` ignores her. A hand jerks Melora back. She turns to find FIZA, her mother, pulling her across the grass. MELORA (CONT’D) Stop! I want to know what’s going on! Fiza grabs her daughter again, and they struggle. Fiza pulls her inside their nearby house. INT. MEKLIS HOUSE-DAY MELORA Let go of me! PON is heard coughing from within the house. FIZA The Empire thinks they’re Rebels. At least, that was the rumor when Madlyn didn’t show up for work today. MELORA We should go help them. FIZA Don’t be foolish. They’ll do the same to us. MELORA But what will happen to them? FIZA They’ll probably be sent somewhere worse than here. The hacking cough is heard again. MELORA Nowhere’s worse than here. FIZA Your father doesn’t need to know about this. It’ll only upset him. Fiza turns to leave. INT. BEDROOM-DAY Former Imperial lieutenant PON MIKLIS sits in bed, hacking mightily. BOT stands over him, patting his back and offering him a handkerchief. Fiza enters and rushes to the bedside. FIZA Darling! Are you all right? PON (between coughs) I’m not that bad. BOT It’s good you’re home. Lieutenant Miklis has not been well today. Not well at all. He’s been coughing up blood all afternoon. There was really nothing I could do for him. Melora enters and goes to the window, looking out at the arrests going on next door. A crowd has gathered in the street. PON It’s just some congestion. Once I get it up... Fiza takes the handkerchief and inspects it. FIZA You should have had BOT come get one of us! You can’t be left alone like this. MELORA Right, Dad. What if you need to go the medcenter? PON We can’t afford the medcenter. FIZA Melora will stay with you tonight. I’ve been ordered to work the evening shift again. Melora overhears and leaves the window. MELORA But I just got a charter for tonight! If I pilot an extra shift we can get cough meds and groceries. FIZA Go and get your father a drink of water. Kriffing hemorrhagic pneumonia! If the Theed people had it, we’d have medicines for it. Melora leaves the room. MELORA (O.C.) The Theed bigwigs did have it. They have medicines for it. FIZA (to her husband) I’ll be right back. Fiza kisses Pon and follows Melora out of the room. INT. HALLWAY-DAY FIZA There’s going to be hell to pay if we don’t get the Panaka mansion their cleaning droids back again by the eighth hour sharp. You’ll have to let someone else take that charter. MELORA I’m going to starve if we don’t buy some groceries. I’ve skipped lunch three days in a row. BOT passes by as more coughing is heard from the bedroom. INT. KITCHEN-DAY BOT fills a glass with water. FIZA (O.C.) He’s getting worse. If we could just save enough for a little bacta and pamlycin! MELORA (O.C.) If I can fly my limo charter tonight we could at least get a little cough suppressant. FIZA (O.C.) I can’t be here, and I’m not leaving him alone with BOT all night, too. BOT Hmmph. FIZA (O.C.) Melora-- (quieter) What if he dies in the night? MELORA (O.C.) Oh, five moons, Mother! Melora stomps into the kitchen and goes to pour herself a glass of blue milk. MELORA (CONT’D) I can’t stand it. She’s so dramatic. BOT “A high or special regard; esteem.” MELORA I quit school to help Father. Stop with the vocabulary words. BOT Respect. Your parental units are attempting to help and protect you. MELORA If my father had really cared about me he’d have obeyed orders. If Lord Vader had’ve choked him to death we’d probably be better off! Melora starts to cry and holds it back. MELORA (CONT’D) I don’t mean that. But look at this mess we’re in! How does anybody do anything on this planet? For us, I mean. If we were still the Emperor’s cronies we’d be rolling in riches! BOT Frustration appears to be warranted in this situation. But your behavior is distressful to your mother. MELORA My father’s going to die, and we can’t even afford medicine! What kind of planet is this? BOT “Feebleminded or mental defectives who have a potential mental age of between eight and twelve years and are capable of doing routine work under supervision; very stupid people.” MELORA What? BOT Morons. MELORA You said it. BOT I don’t mean the governing structure of the planet. I mean the two of you, attempting to cope with the situation. MELORA Huh? BOT You have the means to acquire the appropriate medicine, yet you refuse to use those means. MELORA My parents are afraid to. And I don’t know what to do with that thing. INT. HALLWAY-NIGHT BOT stands outside the bedroom door. Loud coughing is heard inside. MELORA (O.C.) Do you want the vaporizer, Daddy? I think it might help. BOT turns and walks away. INT. KITCHEN-NIGHT BOT opens a kitchen cabinet and peers to the back of it, moving dishes out of the way. A small square safe with a glowing keypad is bolted to the wall. BOT powers through many combinations on the keypad. Finally a light blinks green and the safe opens. It looks empty. BOT reaches in and pulls out a microchip. She closes the safe, walks to the kitchen door, and looks both ways. Seeing no one, BOT walks to the front door and lets herself out into the night. EXT. MIKLIS HOUSE-NIGHT BOT opens a compartment on herself and inserts the microchip, then clicks and twitches as she reads the microchip. BOT Oh, Doctor Bel Madin, shame on you. I think this information would greatly displease the Emperor. It should be worth more than enough. EXT. SHANTYTOWN-NIGHT BOT walks down the road, gleaming in the moonlight. EXT. THEED CITY GATES-NIGHT BOT hides behind a tree as two stormtroopers on patrol walk out of the city gates. BOT scampers in before the gates close. EXT. CITY OF THEED-NIGHT A pack of loud, noisy youths carouses past BOT on the street outside of a bar. Several of them pelt BOT with pebbles. BOT ducks, shielding herself with her arms. BOT Ouch! Ooh! This is so disrespectful! Ow! EXT. BRIDGE-NIGHT BOT hides under a bridge as a platoon of stormtroopers crosses above. BOT emerges from the bushes under the bridge. THIEF ONE and THIEF TWO, wearing holstered blasters, grab the machine and jerk her off her feet. THIEF ONE Gotcha! THIEF TWO Come on, droid. You’re ours now! Any sound and we’ll snap your metal head right off. BOT No! No! Let go of me! BOT struggles. The two thieves take one arm and one leg and carry her off like a log, into the night. BOT (CONT’D) No! Put me down! Put me down! A stormtrooper guard close to the bridge hears the shouting and focuses upon the scene with his binoculars. BOT’s eyelights suddenly blink off and she goes silent. INT. HUT-SUNRISE BOT stands among many other droids in a small, cramped hut on the other side of Theed. All the droids are silent, dead. THIEF ONE Turn that new one back on again. Thief Two turns BOT on. BOT You’d better let me go. This is stealing, and you’re going to get into trouble. Thief Two inspects the droid. THIEF TWO I don’t think we’ll break this one down for parts. A little memory wipe, and we might even afford passage out of here. Thief One brings a cable over and they open a panel on BOT’s head. They start to attach the cable. BOT I would reconsider if I were you. THIEF TWO Shut up, droid. BOT I am an accounting droid in the palace of Moff Panaka. I possess all of his credit account numbers in my memory banks. The thieves look at each other. THIEF TWO Oh, yeah? All right. S/he drags BOT over to another computer and attaches a different cable. THIEF TWO (CONT’D) I’m going to connect you with the Sectorial Bank of Naboo. You withdraw us a few hundred thousand credits, you get to keep your memory. “Sectorial Bank of Naboo” comes up on the screen, followed by “Welcome Customer.” This is replaced by a red graphic and the words, “Access Denied.” THIEF ONE I thought you said you had the account numbers, droid. BOT Um...why, yes. They’re simply very heavily encrypted. I’m going to go through his various accounts to locate the one with the largest balance. I’ll try to make the process go slowly so that it’s easier to see. Suddenly the screen goes blank. The thieves lean toward the computer screen. BOT reaches behind them to locate a long metal pipe and lift it slowly into the air. BOT’S hand trembles nervously. A knock sounds at the door. Thief One goes to open it. A squad of stormtroopers is standing there, led by a STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN with a data pad. STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN We have a search warrant for this address. One of our patrol officers observed a droid being stolen and transported here last night. THIEF ONE That was our own droid, Officer. Thief One steps back and waves an arm at the droids crowding the room. Thief Two turns to face the door, one hand on his/her blaster on the hip facing away from the door. THIEF ONE (CONT’D) Droid repair is our business. STORMTROOPER CAPTAIN Then why was it struggling and shouting, “No, no, put me down?” THIEF ONE Malfunction. As I said, droid repair is our-- Thief Two shoots the captain from across the room. A shootout ensues. The room is ablaze with blaster bolts. Quiescent droids shower sparks and fall over as they are hit. Stormtroopers pour into the room. A STORMTROOPER Hold your fire! Hold your fire! You are under arrest! BOT cowers down and crawls for the door, slipping out behind the last stormtrooper. EXT. HUT-DAY BOT gets to her feet. BOT That was too close! Thank the Maker I’m out of there. BOT scuttles down the path and resumes her journey. End Part One, "A Droid's Quest." Please don't forget: PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 6/7/08 8:12pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--"Final" Edits going up//Part One up now. - Date Edited: 6/7/08 8:14pm (1 edits total) Edited By: LLL
	INT. CANTINA - AFTERNOON The cantina is dreary, with local residents drowning their sorrows in an almost dead atmosphere. Behind the bar, a series of screens shows news and sports segments from around the galaxy. The BARTENDER is watching the screens, ignoring the calls of the customers to be served as he focuses on watching one of the sports events. A man, LARSON ZELL, sits at the bar with a drink in his hand. He is rugged, unshaven, and visibly worn down. His clothes look like they haven’t been washed or even taken off for a month. LARSON downs the last of his drink and reaches over the bar, tapping the bartender on the shoulder, prompting him to turn around. LARSON ZELL Give me another one. BARTENDER Are you going to pay for this one? LARSON ZELL You know I’m good for it. BARTENDER You haven’t paid your tab in three months. I’m running a business here, not a charity. LARSON ZELL Just give me the drink all right, I’ve got your money. The bartender pulls a hose from under the bar, pouring a drink into Larson’s used glass. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) It’s just not right. How am I supposed to make a living out here? You’ve got Imperial Cruisers increasing their patrols, stopping every ship in the system...it’s getting harder to be an honest and independent business man-- BARTENDER (interrupting) You mean smuggler. LARSON ZELL I can’t even do that anymore. Rumors of the Empire making secret deals with the Hutts are everywhere, and there’s no way I’m going to work for them. One false move and I’d find myself in so much debt that Jabba would own me in this life and the next. If it wasn’t for the Rebellion I’d have no work at all. Larson takes a drink from his glass and then points to one of the screens behind the bar. The screen is showing an Imperial news report about a Rebel attack on an Imperial shipyard. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) Look at that. The Rebels know full well that the Empire will have that place up and running again in no time, but they attack it anyway. Someone has to clean up the mess and haul the debris off to some desolate world where the locals are too stupid to realize that they’re getting garbage. Glorified sanitation. That’s what I do. And it’s not like the Empire pays well. BARTENDER Save it. Just pay up, Zell. I don’t like people who try to talk their way out of paying their tab. Larson stands up from his stool and reaches into his pocket, taking out a handful of credits. He slams the money down on the bar, picks up his glass and drinks the last of its contents before setting it down. LARSON ZELL Happy now? BARTENDER Ecstatic. Larson walks towards the exit while the bartender counts the money, puts it in the drawer, then turns back to the screens to watch his sports show. EXT. THEED MARKET STREET-DAY Stalls line both sides of the street, their owners selling everything from exotic foods to engine parts. There is little room to move as a crowd of potential customers explores the stalls, searching for cheap goods. ASSORTED VOICES The finest fruit from the hydro farms of Aquilae, just 25 credits per bag... Excuse me sir, do you have a ship? Then perhaps you would be interested in this practically new drive expansion modulator, guaranteed to enhance the performance of your hyperdrive... ...processor you sold me burned through my entire crop, I want my money back! Sorry sir, no refunds. How much for that blaster coil? ...genuine Gungan dresses, all the rage among the fashion elite... Amidst the crowd, BOT is trying to find room to move, stopping people as they push by in a hurry, finding them uninterested in her plight. BOT Excuse me, sir...might I have a moment of your...I wonder if you’d be...could I...if you’re not busy I.. BOT is looking around at the people as she walks, trying to get someone’s attention, not watching where she is going. She is suddenly stopped in her tracks, bumping into the back of a large creature. BOT (CONT’D) Oh. Forgive me, sir. Would you be... The creature turns around and BOT can now see that it is an angry-looking Gamorrean. The Gamorrean snarls viciously at the droid. BOT (CONT’D) Never mind. BOT hurriedly scuttles away. The Gamorrean snorts, lifts a large fug sandwich to his lips, and takes a massive bite. EXT. DOCKING AREA-DAY Larson stands at the main gate to the Docking Area, confronting a DOCKING ADMINISTRATOR, who has a stormtrooper on either side of him. Each of them holds a rifle. LARSON ZELL You can’t do this. I need my ship! ADMINISTRATOR Perhaps you should have thought of that before you tried to land. LARSON ZELL How was I supposed to know that my landing permit was a fake? ADMINISTRATOR It is highly unlikely that you were unaware of this forgery. Indeed, I wouldn’t be surprised if you tried to forge it yourself. LARSON ZELL That’s not fair. ADMINISTRATOR You are lucky that I haven’t had you placed in detention, Mr. Zell. If you want your ship back, you will have to pay your fine. LARSON ZELL Two thousand credits is a lot for a parking offence. I don’t have that kind of money, nobody on this planet does. ADMINISTRATOR You have been fined five hundred for landing without a permit and fifteen hundred for forging Imperial documents. Trust me, Mr. Zell, I’m being lenient. LARSON ZELL Fine, whatever. Can’t you just give me a ticket, or work out a payment plan, or something? I need my ship. ADMINISTRATOR I’m afraid that will not be possible. Imperial Transit regulations state that all fines must be paid in full before an impounded ship may be released. I would suggest you seek employment. LARSON ZELL But I can’t work without my ship. How am I supposed to deliver cargo if I can’t even get off the planet? ADMINISTRATOR That is not my problem. Furthermore, should you fail to pay your fine within 50 standard days, your ship will become the permanent property of the Imperial Fleet and will be stripped down for parts. LARSON ZELL You can’t do that! Larson moves towards the Administrator as if to threaten him, but stops as he glances at the stormtroopers, who raise their weapons and point them at Larson. ADMINISTRATOR Good day, Mr. Zell. Larson opens his mouth as if he is going to speak again, but instead just sighs and walks away. LARSON ZELL Damn bureaucrats. EXT. MARKET STREET-DAY BOT stands under an archway leading to a side street as she looks out at the market. Behind her, Larson walks through the alley toward the market. BOT This is a vile place. Perhaps I should try the docking bays. She turns, not noticing Larson. They collide and Larson falls to the ground. BOT leans forward, her arm outstretched, offering it to Larson. BOT (CONT’D) I’m so sorry, sir. Please allow me to help you stand. Larson ignores the droid’s hand and gets up himself. He dusts himself off and glares at the droid. LARSON ZELL Watch where you’re walking, gear-head. I’m in a bad enough mood as it is without some droid walking into me like an idiot. BOT Idiot: “An utterly foolish or senseless person. A person of the lowest order in a former classification of mental retardation, having a mental age of less than three years old and an intelligence quotient under twenty-five.” LARSON ZELL Great, knocked down by a walking dictionary. BOT My master programmed me with explanations for specific phrases and words to help his child in school. I believe he also found it amusing. LARSON ZELL Yeah, well if you do it again I’ll take you apart with a hydro spanner. Is that clear? BOT Yes, sir. Larson shrugs and begins to move away, prompting BOT to rush after him. BOT Excuse me, Sir. Do you know where I might find a pilot? Zell stops and looks back at BOT. LARSON ZELL You’re looking at one. BOT Would it be possible for me to hire your services? LARSON ZELL Sorry, I couldn’t help you even if I wanted to, not until I pay the... Larson stops, looking the droid up and down, studying her. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) How much are you worth? BOT I’m afraid I don’t understand. LARSON ZELL Are you in full working order? Are all your parts in the right place? When was your last maintenance check? BOT My parts are functioning normally, sir. My last maintenance check was eight months ago. Larson glances out towards the market, then back at the droid. LARSON ZELL All right, come with me. Larson grabs the droid by the arm and begins leading her through the market. BOT Excuse me, sir, but where are we going? The Docking Bay is in the other direction. LARSON ZELL Just shut up. If you want me to take you off this rock then there’s something I need you for. EXT. MARKET STALL-DAY Moving through the crowd, they arrive at one of the larger stalls, containing an assortment of droid parts. The vendor is a Rodian, and he stands at his stall, busily running a cloth over the detached head of an old Trade Federation battle droid. RODIAN (in Huttese) Can I help you sir? Are you interested in my wares? I have many fine parts that would enhance your droid and increase its value. LARSON ZELL Actually, I’m here to sell. I’m moving to another system and I can’t take my droid with me. It’s in great condition and-- BOT Excuse me, sir, but you can’t sell me. LARSON ZELL (to BOT) Be quiet. (turns back to the Rodian) Are you interested? The Rodian glances at Larson and then studies the droid. RODIAN (in Huttese) It looks to be in good condition. I’ll give you eight hundred. LARSON ZELL What? It’s worth at least three thousand. RODIAN (in Huttese) I believe you over-estimate demand for protocol-type droids. If it were a personal protection unit, then maybe I could give you more, but not even the rich snobs at the palace will pay more than a thousand for a protocol droid. LARSON ZELL It’s not just an ordinary protocol droid. It’s top of the line. You can at least give me two thousand. Look at the workmanship on the coverings. RODIAN (in Huttese) I’m sorry, but I can’t give you that much. I could maybe go as far as nine hundred but that’s not going to leave much room to sell it on, not if I want to make any kind of profit. I’m sorry but I just cannot go any higher. BOT Excuse me, but I am not his to sell. My master is a former lieutenant in the Imperial Fleet and he would not be pleased if I were to be sold. RODIAN (in Huttese) This droid is stolen? Look, I’m in enough trouble as it is with the tax authority. I don’t want to attract even more attention from the Empire for possessing stolen goods. It’s a huge risk. LARSON ZELL The droid doesn’t know what she’s talking about. It’s just gone too long without a memory wipe, that’s all. RODIAN Well I can’t take that chance. (looks at the droid) I’ll give you four hundred. LARSON ZELL No deal. Is everybody out to screw me today? Forget it. EXT. MARKET STREET-DAY Larson turns away, dragging the droid with him back through the market. LARSON ZELL Thanks a lot. Thanks to your big mouth I don’t have the money to get my ship out of impound. BOT But sir, I do not belong to you. You had no right to try to sell me. LARSON ZELL I wasn’t going to sell you. I just needed the money to pay the fine. I would have gotten you back. The droid stares at Larson. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) OK, so maybe I wouldn’t. But now neither of us are getting off this planet. Not unless you have a few thousand credits stashed between your processors or have a way to alter Imperial records. BOT If that is what is required then I shall do my best. BOT breaks free of Larson’s loose grip and walks over to anearby utility pole. On the pole a small metal box is affixed for use by police and street maintenance. The droid pounds on the lock on the bottom of the box. It breaks off and she opens the front. Inside is a small computer terminal, with “City of Theed Maintenance” and an appropriate graphic on the screen. Raising her hand, the droid moves a finger towards an access socket under the screen. Larson watches, slightly confused, as the metal coverings around the droid’s finger retract, revealing a small plug device which BOT connects to the socket. On the screen, Larson can see that the droid is accessing the Imperial network. LARSON ZELL What are you doing? BOT You said that your ship has been impounded. I am attempting to change that. You implied that you would take me off this planet if I did so, did you not? LARSON ZELL I guess I did. If I’d known you could do that, I could have passed you off as an infiltration droid to that Rodian. On the display screen, the logo of the IMPERIAL TRANSIT AUTHORITY appears momentarily before being replaced by a scrolling list of records containing information on various ships. BOT I am not yours to sell. Also, I don’t believe the vendor would have given you the amount you wanted no matter what you said. LARSON ZELL You’re right. He would have screwed me. All right, gear-head, you’ve got a deal. If you can get my ship out of impound, I’ll take you wherever you want to go. BOT Thank you. I am grateful for your help. Records scroll across the screen, then stop. BOT (CONT’D) I have accessed the appropriate files. What is the name of your ship? LARSON ZELL It’s called the Solar Flare. The droid finds the right file and changes the record to show that the fine has been paid. She removes the plug on her finger from the socket and the metal coverings expand over it once again. BOT It is done. Will you take me with you off world now? LARSON ZELL Sure. A deal’s a deal, right? Besides, I might be able to use you. Larson and BOT leave the market, heading back towards the docking area through the alley where they first bumped into each other. EXT. SHANTYTOWN - DUSK Fiza stands outside the door to her house, facing two Stormtroopers, LK-692 and GV-415. She looks worried. LK-692 We intercepted a small operation dealing in stolen droids, but we didn’t find any matching the description of your missing unit. FIZA Are you sure? Can’t you check again? BOT is the only thing we have left. You have to find her. GV-415 Please, calm down. We have checked thoroughly and we are certain that your droid isn’t among the ones that were discovered. If it was among them at any point, it is possible that it was sold before we intercepted the thieves. LK-692 Or perhaps its restraining bolt has malfunctioned. FIZA She doesn’t have a restraining bolt. GV-415 When was the last time you had its memory wiped? FIZA Not since my husband built her. He wouldn’t allow it. GV-415 Then it’s possible that your droid’s primary programming has broken down. LK-692 It’s not uncommon, especially among protocol droids, for anomalies to appear within their programming that give the illusion of sentience or combine old programming code into a single random command. It’s possible that your droid simply got up and walked away for no reason other than it believed it had been programmed to. FIZA Not BOT. She wouldn’t just run away. LK-692 It’s probably just wandering the streets. We’ll keep an eye out and if we find anything, we’ll contact you. The stormtroopers walk away and Fiza opens the door to her house and steps inside. INT. MEKLIS HOUSE-DUSK MELORA is standing just inside the door as her mother enters. MELORA Well? FIZA Nothing. They said they would let us know if they find her. MELORA Fat chance of that. BOT’s probably found herself a rich master to serve. Maybe she has the right idea. FIZA Melora Meklis! How dare you say such a thing? Your father needs your support, not your condemnation. MELORA Even if they find her, do you really think they’ll just bring her back? The Empire is known for good deeds. Look what they did to us! If I wasn’t stuck here I’d join the rebellion and make those Imperial slugs pay for what they’ve done. FIZA Keep your voice down. In spite of everything your father is still loyal to the Emperor. If he heard you even mention the possibility of joining the Rebels, he’d have a heart attack. They stand silently for a moment as PON coughs violently from the bedroom. MELORA (whispers) He’s getting worse. FIZA (whispers sadly) I know. EXT. DOCKING BAY 12-DUSK A small freighter, the SOlAR FLARE, stands, its engines humming as they warm up and come to life. The outer hull of the ship is worn, covered in scrapes and dents. The ship is old, rusting in some areas and in dire need of a major overhaul. A dozen stormtroopers stand near the entrance to the docking bay. on either side, a couple of manned gun turrets are pointed towards the ship. The stormtroopers seem relaxed however, as the ship prepares for take off. INT. SOLAR FLARE’S COCKPIT-CONTINUOUS Larson sits in the pilot’s seat, looking over the controls as he prepares the ship for take off. Beside him, BOT sits in the copilot’s seat, strapped in as he peers through the windscreen at the stormtroopers. LARSON ZELL So, where are we going? BOT To Bestine. LARSON ZELL Are you sure? There’s a quiet little bar on Corellia that showcases the finest practitioners in Twi’lek exotic dance. It’s cheap too. BOT I am quite sure, sir. I have a mission to complete. LARSON ZELL It’s your loss... (looks across at BOT) Maybe not. All right, Bestine it is. EXT. DOCKING BAY 12-DUSK The Solar Flare starts to rise from the ground, its engines glowing. The Docking Administrator enters, walking to the stormtrooper manning the gun turret on the right side. ADMINISTRATOR Why are you allowing the ship to take off? I ordered it to be impounded until the fine was paid. Stormtrooper LK-771 hands the Administrator a datapad. STORMTROOPER LK-771 The records show that it has, Sir. The Administrator studies the datapad as the ship rises higher, out of the docking bay and into the air over the city. ADMINISTRATOR There’s no way that spawn could have paid the fee so quickly. The Administrator looks at the datapad, then up at the departing ship. ADMINISTRATOR (CONT’D) I didn’t authorise this. Take that ship down, trooper. Stormtrooper LK-771 runs to the nearest gun turret and points the antiaircraft cannon at the Solar Flare. STORMTROOPER LK-771 It’s out of range, Sir. ADMINISTRATOR Damn. Contact the orbital patrol. I want that ship stopped. EXT. SPACE, ABOVE NABOO-EVENING The Solar Flare rockets out of the atmosphere, heading away from the planet. Three TIE fighters advance from the far side, following the ship. INT. SOLAR FLARE COCKPIT-CONTINUOUS An alarm sounds on the dashboard as Larson maneuvers the ship into deep space. BOT What is that? LARSON ZELL Proximity alert. We’ve got some TIE’s on our tail. Another light flashes, prompting Larson to press a button that opens communications. ADMINISTRATOR (O.S.) (filtered) Larson Zell, that ship is the property of the Galactic Empire, under transit regulation seventy one dash four. LARSON ZELL I don’t know what you’re talking about. I suggest you check your records. I paid your fine. ADMINISTRATOR (O.S.) (filtered) We both know you didn’t pay that fine, Zell. You altered the record. I don’t know how you did it, but I know you did. Now turn that ship around or I will have you destroyed. LARSON ZELL No can do. Larson turns off the communicator and spots BOT looking at him. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) He’s bluffing. The ship rocks suddenly and violently as a laser blast impacts against the hull. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) Great. Just what this ship needs, another dent. EXT. SPACE The Solar Flare twists and rolls, trying to avoid the blaster bolts of the three TIE fighters as they fly in formation, chasing the freighter and shooting at it. The main gun on the top of the freighter turns and begins firing back at the TIEs, blowing one of them to smithereens. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT Larson mans the firing trigger from his seat in the cockpit. LARSON ZELL That’ll teach ‘em. BOT The other two are still shooting. Laser blasts fly across the windscreen as one of the remaining TIEs turns to face the ship, flying at it head on. LARSON ZELL Shut up. The navicomputer should have the coordinates any minute now. EXT. SPACE One TIE fires from behind the freighter, while the other flies straight at the ship, shooting all the way. The freighter turns sideways to avoid collision while the turret on top of the ship turns and fires, destroying the chasing TIE. The last TIE flips around to chase, once again firing, targeting the engines. INT. SOLAR FLARE - COCKPIT LARSON ZELL Oh, no, you don’t. A soft beep from the dashboard alerts Larson as he puts his hand on one of the larger levers. LARSON ZELL (CONT’D) It’s about time. Well, it’s been fun, but I’m afraid I just can’t stay. He pushes forward on the lever. Nothing happens. BOT Sir, I believe-- LARSON ZELL Save it. Larson gets out of his seat and steps towards a large control panel on the rear cockpit wall. BOT looks back at him, then at the dashboard. Reaching out, she presses a button, causing the ship to surge forward as the stars stretch outside the windscreen. The sudden rush causes Larson to fall to the floor. EXT. SPACE The Solar Flare shoots off into the distance, disappearing in an instant, while the last remaining TIE turns around, heading back to Naboo. -END PART II- And, don't forget: PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 6/11/08 3:01pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--"Final" Edits going up//Part Two up now. - Date Edited: 11/12/08 3:06pm (2 edits total) Edited By: LLL
	INT. SOLAR FLARE-COMMUNICATIONS-MINUTES LATER Alone in the communications room, BOT dials a number and on the holoscreen an image appears of the logo of the Imperial Medical Corps with the aurabesh equivalent of “Hold, please.” A moment later, a 21B medical droid appears on the screen. 21B Bestine Garrison Medcenter. How may I assist you? BOT Greetings. My master requires immediate medical attention. Can you receive him? 21B Is your master a member of the Imperial Armed Forces? BOT No. The Captain is an independent contractor for the Empire. His contract dictates that, in the case of an emergency, he may utilize the Empire's medical facilities for a considerable fee. We have the necessary datawork. 21B How severe is the medical emergency? Is the patient conscious? BOT Oh, he will almost certainly survive. We simply ran afoul of those dreadful rebels and he is in considerable pain. 21B We can help. We have sufficient personnel today and are fully staffed. Transmit the contract information. Traffic control will park you at the garrison's Docking Bay 215. BOT You have my most sincere thanks. We will be sure to dock at Bay 215. 21B Bestine Garrison Medcenter out. The comm screen shuts off. Loitering in the doorway, Larson has been listening in on the whole conversation. LARSON Considerable pain, huh? Like what I'm feeling after having spent the whole afternoon running from one end of that miserable spaceport to the other? BOT I did not have you running anywhere and it was not from one end of that miserable spaceport to the other. LARSON Are you kidding? Three holonet terminals and a bank. I've got the receipts if your memory's a little foggy. BOT If you are traced for one of those infractions, the variety of access points will almost guarantee that you will not be linked to the other crimes. Larson rolls his eyes and leans against the doorjamb. LARSON Well, thanks. That almost-guarantee means a lot. Now, what's this about considerable pain? BOT Their suspicions would be aroused if you made the journey to another planet to treat a stubbed toe, Captain. You will not be required to make an appearance. LARSON You mean I come all this way and I don't get to watch? BOT It would be an inconvenience if I were required to look after your safety. Larson shrugs. LARSON I'll get us to Bay 215, but if you get yourself shut down, I'm not coming after you. Got it? BOT Understood, sir. Larson heads for the door, then pauses and looks back to where Bot is still following him. LARSON So, what, you're just going to waltz in there and hope no one notices? BOT There will be no dancing involved, but in a manner of speaking, yes. EXT. BESTINE-NIGHT The Solar Flare descends over the city and enters a docking bay. INT. BESTINE MEDICAL CENTER-CONTINUOUS A person bursts through the doors, screaming, gesticulating wildly, and running like crazy. S/He's obviously not sane, possibly high on something and out of control. He's also looking as if he's just come off a bad fight with someone twice his size. Several doctors and nurses hurry over and there's a minor scuffle as they try to get hold of him and restrain him or at least keep him from hurting one of the other patients. DR. ONE Get him to exam three and tell Security I want him in restraints! And get me some corephem. I'm not taking so much as his temp if he's not sedated! One of the nurses runs off to carry out his orders. The guy is now being hauled along by his arms and putting up a fight about it. Everyone is just getting out of his way. Behind them, sort of lost in the shuffle, is BOT, who is just tagging along as if he belongs with him. As the nurse goes one way, she surreptitiously takes another hallway and disappears from sight. The group passes the admitting desk, where a doctor is absent-mindedly doing his datawork for the day. A nurse approaches and looks from him to the retreating group of medical staff. NURSE Looks like a glit overdose. BEL MADEN Probably. Third one this week. Blood-curdling screams ring out from the direction where the rest of the staff disappeared to. NURSE Do you think we should... Something metal falls with a tremendous crash. Bel Maden sets down a datacard and picks up another one. BEL MADEN They've got it covered. Another droid, SP1M, considerably larger than Bot, approaches the desk looking mechanically apologetic. SP1M Doctor, I apologize for the interruption, but I need your help. Doctor Vos ordered me to bring him three doses of Terinol, but I can't seem to find it. It should be listed under the T's in the medicine stocks... Bel Maden grins at the nurse. BEL MADEN See? If I had chased after them, I wouldn't have been here to help this dumb droid. NURSE How very considerate of you. Bel Maden stands and leads the way along a deserted hallway. BEL MADEN You probably were looking in the general supply. Terinol is a controlled substance, so one of us has to sign off on it. Didn't they program anything useful into your brain? SP1M doesn't answer, but has fallen behind so that Bel Maden is halfway down the hallway before he notices the droid isn't with him. He turns just in time to see SP1M charge him at breakneck speed. Self-preservation overcomes logic and he makes a run for it. He is obviously trying to get back to a more populated part of the hospital, but SP1M is herding him in all the wrong directions. As they pass a door, he yells out for help. DR. ONE Later, Doctor. We've got our own problems. The crazy patient starts howling like a wolf behind the closed door. Finally, after having slipped on a wet floor and having a few other unbecoming pratfalls, Bel Maden spots a door at the end of a hallway with a palm-sensor. He skids to a stop and shoves his hand onto the pad. The door opens and he escapes easily into the darkened closet. INT. BROOM CLOSET-CONTINUOUS The lights come on. In classic horror film style, he has his back to BOT, who is looking oddly sinister in this cramped space. BOT Dr. Bel Maden, it's been a long time. Bel Maden spins around and cringes against the door, clearly caught off guard. BEL MADEN What is this, Droid Liberation Day? Get back to your post. BOT Not yet. Exasperated by this droid who thinks he's a member of the Mafia, Bel Maden opens the door to make sure the coast is clear. SP1M is standing in his way. BEL MADEN You pile of scrap. Get out of my way now! SP1M I'm afraid I can't do that, Doctor. BOT Stand guard until we've concluded our business. BEL MADEN This is absurd. I have no business with a protocol droid and an arrogant orderly. Out of my way. He tries to push past SP1M again, without success. BOT We have not concluded our business, Dr. Bel Maden. Bel Maden backs up, looking disgusted. BEL MADEN I'll have you deactivated and use your head as a caf mug, orderly. You work for me, and for the Empire. Do you have no sense of loyalty? SP1M I wouldn't know, sir. I am just a dumb droid. He closes the door calmly. BOT I am sure you do not remember me... BEL MADEN Of course not. All mechanicals look alike. He turns. Bot has opened the panel on her chest and extracted the datachip. She hands it to him and Bel Maden sneers at it. BEL MADEN (CONT’D) What's this? Your list of demands? A ransom note? A grocery list? BOT In a manner of speaking. Bel Maden removes his datapad from his pocket before putting the chip in. BEL MADEN I don't know what you think you are. Some self-important encyclopedia with too much time on her hands. I will see to it personally that you are used for spare parts every time my speeder needs an overhaul. You and that overpriced forklift out there... He trails off, obviously having caught sight of the contents of the datachip. BEL MADEN (CONT’D) What in the hell? BOT As you see, there is neither a list of demands nor a grocery list, but if you would like to hear why I am here and what it will take to keep me silent, I'd be happy to illuminate you. Bel Maden suddenly regains some of his bluster. BEL MADEN He sent you to find me on a grudge. How typical of Meklis. BOT That's not entirely true, sir. I am not programmed to hold grudges. BEL MADEN I don't negotiate and I'm more than happy to bring the Constabulary down on your empty head or simply turn you into a caf table. BOT Given the contents of that datachip, I think you are bluffing. BEL MADEN Would you like to test your theory? BOT I'm sure the Constabulary would be interested in what I have to say. BEL MADEN So, Meklis sent you. He's still on Naboo? BOT You should know, sir. You were the one who saw to it that he was sent there. BEL MADEN Don't jump to conclusions. He displeased Vader. He would have been sent there with or without my help. BOT Oh, yes. I'm quite certain that your role in his banishment had nothing to do with the fact that he could confirm your hand in the death of an Admiral. Bel Maden does not respond to the accusation, only shoves the datapad back into a pocket. BEL MADEN I suppose that thing outside is just along for the ride? BOT He does in fact know the meaning of loyalty. I knew that he would not fail if that loyalty were tested. Bel Maden considers his position for a moment, looking between Bot and the door and obviously weighing his chances of going for help. BEL MADEN What is so urgent that Meklis sent his droid halfway across the known Galaxy to blackmail a loyal son of the Empire? BOT His family thinks he has hemorrhagic pneumonia. It's swept every work colony on the planet. BEL MADEN Bacta and pamlycin can both be bought for the right price at any medcenter, even in the work colonies of Naboo. BOT Sir, he requires a full regimen of pamlycin, including associated GI protectants and prescriptions to prevent renal damage. Bel Maden looks disgusted by this and looks once more at the door. Bot looks on patiently. BEL MADEN A steep price. What makes you think that your little microchip is worth all that? BOT I confess that I'm not familiar with such things. Shall we ask the Emperor? Bel Maden reaches into his pocket and ejects the microchip. He holds it between thumb and forefinger with a taunting smirk. BEL MADEN Regardless of how traitorous your counterpart is, I think that I could outlast this microchip with the right amount of pressure and then you would not have a durasteel leg to stand on. BOT That is true, doctor. Are you confident that you are in possession of the only copy? Bel Maden stares hard at BOT as if waiting for her to blink. Finally, Bel Maden wrenches open the chest panel and shoves the microchip back into the compartment before slamming the door. He opens the door again to find SP1M ever vigilant. He removes his datapad and, using the stylus, begins scribbling out instructions. BEL MADEN Orderly, these are instructions for the pharmacy. A full regimen of pamlycin with the necessary auxiliary medicines. See to it that you bring all of them to the east exit in ten minutes. SP1M and Bot exchange 'looks.' SP1M I will be sure to review the prescriptions myself to make sure they correspond to your instructions. BEL MADEN Of course you will. Go. SP1M takes the datapad and leaves. Bot moves to pass him, but he blocks the way. (CONT’D) BEL MADEN Our business is through here. I have provided enough to treat hemorrhagic pneumonia and I trust that I will not be hearing from you for a presciption refill. BOT If you ever entered my photoreceptors' range again, it would be too soon. BEL MADEN Get out of my sight. Bot obliges. INT. BESTINE MEDCENTER-LATER SP1M arrives with several large boxes loaded onto a hand-truck or the Star Wars equivalent. Bot taps him on the arm joint the same way a human may slap another on the arm by way of congratulations. BOT I could not have accomplished this without your help, SP1M. The Meklis family owes you a debt of great gratitude. SP1M Take care of our master, BOT. That is enough. Bot glances around the empty corridor and then inclines his head and lowers his voice. BOT It may not be safe for our kind here and Bel Maden is not one to forgive. Won't you consider coming with us? SP1M Lowly service droids do not stay at one hospital for long. I can escape the good doctor's wrath if I need to. BOT Goodbye then, old friend. He leaves through the door and as a voiceover, we hear Bel Maden speaking through a commlink: BEL MADEN (VO) Bel Maden here. I need to be connected to the CO's office on the Exsanguinator. Code clearance aurek-99161. END OF PART III Don't forget: PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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LLL Registered: Jul '00	Date Posted: 6/12/08 8:27pm Subject: RE: Community Fan Film Working Script--"Final" Edits going up//Part Three up now. - Date Edited: 1/28 9:40pm (4 edits total) Edited By: LLL
	PART IV: REVISION FIVE Note: I’M REPRINTING THE LAST FEW LINES OF PART THREE DUE TO A SMALL CHANGE I MADE. BOT Goodbye then, old friend. He leaves through the door. EXT. DEEP SPACE-EVENING The star destroyer Exsanguinator hangs in space. BEL MADEN (VO) Bel Maden here. I need to be connected to the CO's office on the Exsanguinator. Code clearance aurek-99161. INT. STAR DESTROYER EXSANGUINATOR BRIDGE-EVENING The lights are low in preparation for the ship’s night cycle. Doogan, the Comms officer, speaks to a blank viewscreen. IMPERIAL OFFICER DOOGAN Captain, a doctor by the name of Bel Maden is asking for you personally. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM (O.S.) Send the transmission to my stateroom. IMPERIAL OFFICER DOOGAN Yes, sir. INT. CAPTAIN’S STATEROOM-CONTINUOUS Captain Desnarcam, his uniform half unbuttoned, sits before his viewscreen and thumbs it on. (CONT’D) CAPTAIN DESNARCAM This is a secure channel. Of all the people in the galaxy, I’d never thought that I’d ever hear from you again, Bel Maden. BEL MADEN I have some disturbing news about the incident with Admiral Vinnig, Captain. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM He’s been dead for quite some time. What could possibly be the matter? BEL MADEN Meklis. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM How did he find out? BEL MADEN I don’t know. But I do know that BOT, who is a droid of Meklis’s, now has proof encoded on a microchip that it is carrying. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM So, you need me to take care of this situation, then? BEL MADEN I placed a tracking device among medical supplies I gave to BOT. I can give you the tracking information so that you can intercept BOT before she reaches Naboo. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Of course. But this will cost you dearly, my friend. BEL MADEN I will pay whatever price you want. A medical ship, the Healing Grace, is on its way to Naboo. It is transporting supplies there, Captain. I believe that is where you will find BOT and the chip. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Still, I will use caution. After all, we can’t attack a medical ship for no reason. I will scan the vessels and see if any droids unaccounted for are aboard. Desnarcam out. The captain touches another button. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM (CONT’D) This is the Captain. I need you to lay in a course to intercept a medical ship by the name of Healing Grace. It’s just exited the atmosphere of Bestine IV and should be making its way through the system to the hyperspace jump location towards Naboo. Have all scanners on full. Prepare all TIE fighters for launch. All hands to their battle stations. EXT. SPACE–BESTINE SYSTEM The Healing Grace cruises through space. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT-NIGHT Outside is the familiar backdrop of stars as the Healing Grace nears the jump point to hyperspace in the Bestine system. The navigator, UDAR GOL, a Telosian, is in the navigator’s chair, inputting the coordinates for the jump into hyperspace, while he also drums his fingers. BOT watches him intently. DOZ BALDAR, the pilot, sits in the captain’s chair. BOT The harmonics resonating from your finger tapping sinuously reverberate with the hum of the engines. UDAR Huh? He notices that he is drumming his fingers. UDAR (CONT’D) Tell me, why did we take this thing aboard again? DOZ Because we are a medical ship and as such we must help those in medical need. Udar glares at BOT. UDAR Well, it’s annoying me. BOT I was merely observing your pattern of resonance with the harm-- UDAR Stow it, Buckethead. If I wanted a theoretical explanation of my-- All of a sudden the ship rocks from a laser cannon explosion close by. UDAR (CONT’D) What the-- EXT. SPACE-CONTINUOUS A squadron of TIE fighters closes in on the Healing Grace. Unbeknownst to Udar, Doz, and BOT, a star destroyer is also in pursuit of them. UDAR Damn, I knew she was going to cause us trouble. What did I tell you? BOT Can we outrun them? DOZ It looks like they’ll reach us just before the jump point. Don’t worry. We’re a medical ship. They cannot attack us. BOT Pilot, before you get too overconfident, I think you should know something. DOZ What’s bothering you now? BOT (pointing to the screen) That. Doz looks and sees that an Imperial Star Destroyer is closing on their position. UDAR Looks like she’s more trouble than we bargained for, eh, Doz? DOZ Yes, but this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve had trouble. UDAR That Star Destroyer is definitely more menacing than a Mynock infestation. Another laser cannon blast rocks the Healing Grace. UDAR (CONT’D) I don’t know how we’re going to get out of this one. Doz and Udar buckle themselves in tightly. The TIEs break formation and start to come at the ship three to four fighters at a time. They fire warning shots across the Healing Grace’s bow. UDAR (CONT’D) Perfect. They’re really trying to make us stop. Perhaps that is what we need to do. DOZ We’re nearing the jump point. Prepare for hyperspace. (to BOT) I suggest you buckle yourself in as well. BOT buckles herself in. BOT Ready. EXT. SPACE–STAR DESTROYER EXSANGUINATOR The Star Destroyer is now within range as well. BOT How much longer until we reach the jump point? UDAR Two more minutes at least. DOZ I guess we just may have to stop then. There’s no way we can survive an assault from that Star Destroyer. INT. EXSANGUINATOR BRIDGE-CONTINUOUS The Captain strides onto the bridge buttoning his top button. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Launch all TIE fighters! Bring all batteries on line! Target the Healing Grace’s engines only. IMPERIAL OFFICER DOOGAN You don’t want the ship destroyed, sir? CAPTAIN DESNARCAM They are a medical ship. We simply cannot just blow it away. Besides, they have stolen sensitive Imperial information. Their capture is our paramount concern. Prepare the tractor beam! EXT. SPACE The Exsanguinator closes in on the Healing Grace, swarmed by TIE fighters, as it slows down and stops. Exsanguinator targets Healing Grace’s engines. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT BOT I will hide wherever you think is best, pilot. DOZ I am sorry, BOT. This ship is not equipped with any secret compartments. EXT. SPACE The Exsanguinator locks a tractor beam on the Healing Grace. INT. HEALING GRACE Cockpit The ship floats towards the huge opening on the underside of the Star Destroyer as it is pulled into its sinister belly. Doz shuts off a few switches and then flips them back on. DOZ All right, I’ve turned off everything and have reinitiated our jump coordinates. UDAR What good is that going to do now? They’re pulling us in! DOZ It will make it look like we were headed towards a different destination than Naboo. I’ve programmed the coordinates now to Yag’Dhul. INT. EXSANGUINATOR DOCKING BAY-CONTINUOUS A platoon of stormtroopers and a uniformed officer surround the Healing Grace. He inclines his head and two troopers follow him up the gangplank. The rest wait outside. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT-CONTINUOUS Doz and Udar glance at each other as the officer and troopers enter. The stormtroopers point their blaster rifles at Doz and Udar. OFFICER I am searching for a particular droid. If you interfere with my search in any way, they will shoot you. DOZ The only droids we have on this ship are medical droids. OFFICER If that’s so, you wouldn’t mind taking me through your vessel, since you have nothing to hide. DOZ No, come right ahead. Doz and Udar follow the officer as he pulls out a beeping scanner device and wanders the ship. Behind them trail the stormtroopers, weapons at their sides. The scanner beeps more and more loudly. OFFICER It seems I’ve found something. He walks up to a door and attempts to enter. The door will not open. OFFICER (CONT’D) Please open the door. DOZ We only keep corpses in there, Captain. It is our morgue. Are you sure that you want to go inside? The stormtroopers point their rifles at Doz and Udar. OFFICER Quite sure. Open the door now! Doz punches in a code at the door panel and it opens. The trio walks into the morgue. Three coffin-sized boxes rest on gurneys covered with sheets. The uniformed officer’s nose wrinkles at the smell. He walks up to another door as the scanner beeps incessantly. OFFICER (CONT’D) Open the door. Doz and Udar look at each other and gulp. DOZ That compartment leads straight to the void of space. It is used for the permanent disposal of deceased patients. OFFICER Don’t make yourself one of them, then. Doz opens the door. Inside is a body lying in a small metal cylinder. The scanner goes berserk as the officer closes in on the cylinder. He examines it carefully. OFFICER (CONT’D) Please remove the body. Doz and Udar carefully lift the body out of the cylinder and place the deceased alien on the floor. The officer feels inside the cylinder and holds up the tracking device that Bel Maden had planted inside the medical supplies given to BOT. OFFICER (CONT’D) Well, well. Care to explain how this got in here? UDAR I’ve never seen it before. OFFICER (to Doz) And you? DOZ Me neither. OFFICER How interesting. Come with me then. The three exit and the door slides shut behind them. The uniformed officer pockets his scanner, palms his blaster, and fires at the door. DOZ I wouldn’t fire at that door too much. You wouldn’t want to end up being launched into the void of space, would you? The Imperial officer shoots Doz an irritated look. OFFICER You’re in the hangar bay, you moron. He pulls out a communicator. OFFICER (CONT’D) Seize the ship immediately! INT. EXSANGUINATOR DOCKING BAY-CONTINUOUS The stormtroopers grouped around the Healing Grace start to run towards the ship. Suddenly the ship’s engines ignite and the landing platform retracts. The Healing Grace leaps from the deckplates and springs into space. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT BOT sits at the controls of the ship. INT. MORGUE Doz and Udar run ahead of the Imperials and close and lock the door just right in front of them. The heavy door muffles shouts and the sounds of blaster fire. UDAR What are we going to do now? We just kidnapped two stormtroopers and a naval officer! BOT (O.S.) (calling down the hall from the cockpit) I assure you the Imperial personnel will be safe. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT BOT presses a button. EXT. SPACE-CONTINUOUS The escape pod that the Imperials are trapped inside breaks free from the Healing Grace. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT Doz and Udar run up into the cockpit. BOT swivels in her chair as the escape pod falls away outside the viewport. BOT See, they will survive. This will give us time to escape. Doz runs over and flips the hyperspace controls and the Healing Grace cascades into hyperspace. DOZ Care to get out of my seat now? BOT Of course, pilot. BOT exits the pilot’s chair. Doz and Udar sneak an incredulous look at each other and then BOT. UDAR There’s only one problem. We’re still headed toward Yag’Dhul, not Naboo. DOZ We’ll have to lie low for a while, anyway. Yag’Dhul will have to do. UDAR Yag’Dhul. It’s not exactly the most luxurious planet. DOZ It will have to do for now. There’s no other choice. UDAR Hopefully they’ll have something useful for us to do while we’re there. INT. EXSANGUINATOR BRIDGE-MOMENTS LATER Captain Desnarcam scowls at a viewscreen over Doogan’s shoulder. IMPERIAL OFFICER DOOGAN Sir, the Healing Grace has gone into hyperspace. We’ve lost them. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Get me in contact with the Bounty Hunter Guild. IMPERIAL OFFICER DOOGAN Yes, sir. EXT. SPACE, YAG’DHUL SYSTEM-MORNING Yag'dhul, homeworld of the Givin, is a small and barren planet with three large moons encircling it. The moons have produced tidal forces so extreme that the planet’s surface is mostly a huge vacuum. Only the poles support any life. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT-CONTINUOUS Doz and Udar sit wearily at the controls. BOT stands against one wall. DOZ Healing Grace requesting permission to land. GLYTHE, a Givin--a creature with a skeletal look to its facial features, wearing a red robe and leaning on a silver metal staff--appears on Healing Grace’s comm screen. GLYTHE Permission granted, Pilot. DOZ Thank you. EXT. YAG’DHUL ATMOSPHERE-MORNING The Healing Grace heads for the South Polar region on the planet, where a huge spaceport is located. It lands at one of the docking platforms and is lowered into the spaceport. Doz, Udar, and BOT walk down the landing platform to the awaiting Givin. GLYTHE What services do you require, Pilot? DOZ The hyperdrive is acting up. It needs to be repaired. GLYTHE Our facility should have the resources and parts that you require to repair your vessel, Captain. Go down the passageway and take the first left. That is the repair warehouse. Everything you use will be deducted from your credit account before you are allowed to leave. DOZ Thank you. Doz, Udar, and BOT proceed to the repair warehouse. INT. REPAIR WAREHOUSE They enter the location and see a wide variety of parts on small flat shelves. DOZ Let’s split up and look for something useful. BOT Useful for what, Pilot? DOZ Useful for disguising the ship; I don’t care if it looks good or not. Heck, we might as well take everything. Doz goes to the nearest table and starts to grab everything off of it. BOT follows suit and they start carrying all of the parts back to where the ship docked. UDAR We’re going to have to paint our ship so that it will be harder to locate by the Imperial fleet. And, might I also point out, any police vehicles from this planet, because we have no funds to pay for what we’re doing here. BOT I suggest that we paint the ship a different color, and change the transponder on the ship to match that of an Imperial delegate ship, the Quantum Thrust. It was a ship of this make that was being overhauled back on Bestine IV. DOZ Sounds like a good plan. Let’s get started. They grab some Imperial Grey paint. INT. GIVIN HANGAR BAY-LATER BOT, Doz, and Udar spray the paint over the rust and blast marks that mar the hull. INT. EXSANGUINATOR, CAPTAIN’S HOLOGRAM ROOM-DAY The holograms of three bounty hunters stand before the captain: BOSSK; TINIAN I’ATT, a woman clad in glistening white armor; and CHENLAMBEC, a towering Wookiee. A holo of BOT revolves in the center of the room. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM This is the droid you are looking for. Do you understand the request? You are to get the microchip back at all costs. Disintegrations are authorized. TINIAN I’ATT I understand. Chenlambec and I will accept your offer. Awaiting transmission of the agreed upon credits. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Transmitting. CHENLAMBEC (in Shyriiwook) 20,000 credits. That must be a very serious microchip. TINIAN I’ATT That’s what I’m worried about. (to the Captain) The credits have been received. It’s been a pleasure doing business with you, Captain. The Captain turns off the holocam, and presses a second button for voice transmission only. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Have you heard everything that has transpired? BOSSK I have. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM Just get me that microchip! BOSSK Oh, don’t worry, Captain. I will recover your precious microchip. INT. LANDING DOCK-VERY EARLY MORNING Doz and Udar finish painting the Healing Grace in Imperial Grey paint. BOT is inside. UDAR How much longer before you’re done with that transponder? BOT (O.S) One to two more hours, Navigator. UDAR Good. Those Givin are giving me the creeps. The sooner we’re out of here, the better. BOT (O.S.) I do not observe anything creepy about the Givin, Navigator. UDAR You wouldn’t. EXT. ATMOSPHERE-MORNING The Hound’s Tooth approaches Yag’dhul. It proceeds to land at a nearby docking pad. Tinian I’att and Chenlambec disembark from the ship and cautiously proceed to where the Healing Grace is docked. Another vessel, slender oval in shape, glides to a nearby landing pad. A mysterious figure in the shadows lingers nearby. Tinian sees Doz and Udar outside the Healing Grace. TINIAN All right, hands up, you two. She and Chenlambec point their blasters squarely at the duo. DOZ What’s with the greeting, lady? TINIAN My name is Tinian I’att and my associate here is Chenlambec. I suggest that you come with us peacefully. DOZ Why? What did we do? BOT exits the ship. BOT Pilot, the ship is now ready-- Chenlambec growls at the droid, and she hides behind Doz. BOT (CONT’D) --for travel. TINIAN And bring your droid as well. Tinian and Chenlambec escort Doz, Udar, and BOT to the Hound's Tooth. Suddenly, laser blasts erupt from an alcove between them and the Hound’s Tooth. They impact on Tinian’s armor and bounce harmlessly away. Tinian pushes Doz, Udar, and BOT to the ground. She and Chenlambec start to fire at the mysterious creature as it fires continuously at them. It manages to blast Tinian’s rifle from her grasp. TINIAN (CONT’D) We can’t make it out on the Hound’s Tooth. We’ll have to use your medical ship. Udar snatches up her weapon and points it at her. UDAR I don’t think so. Another laser blast knocks Tinian to the ground. Udar lays down some cover fire while Chenlambec grabs the unconscious Tinian off of the ground. Chenlambec growls and roars at the mysterious stranger and then runs back towards the Healing Grace carrying Tinian. DOZ AND UDAR Hey, wait for us! The laser blasts continue after the group as they rush back towards the Healing Grace. They race up the landing platform and close the doors. INT. HEALING GRACE, CABIN-MINUTES LATER Chenlambec places Tinian on a table. DOZ Quick, call the medical droid. A medical droid enters and removes the charred armor plate with a hole burned through it. The medical droid applies some bacta gel to Tinian’s wounds, and then bandages them. DOZ (CONT’D) The medical droid will take care of her for now. Chenlambec roars at Doz. DOZ (CONT’D) Look, the medical droid will do the best it can do. She’ll be all right. I promise. But, right now, we need to get out of here, and fast. INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT-CONTINUOUS Doz, Udar, and BOT race to the cockpit where they fire up the thrusters. EXT. LANDING DOCK-DAY The ship ascends from the landing pad. The mysterious stranger climbs into the Hound’s Tooth and fires up its engines. It takes off after the Healing Grace. EXT. ATMOSPHERE-DAY The Hound’s Tooth powers up its weapons and fires at the Healing Grace. A huge explosion shakes the Healing Grace’s cargo area, which ruptures away from the ship. INT. HEALING GRACE CABIN-CONTINUOUS Doz and Udar see the cargo hold floating away from the ship. The Hound’s Tooth again shoots at the cargo hold, which explodes in a fiery blast. DOZ All right, whoever you are! You just blew up a medical cargo bay that had much-needed medical supplies! Udar, make sure that the ship is still sealed up. Udar gets up and runs to the back of the craft. EXT. SPACE The Healing Grace turns and heads towards Yag’dhul’s three moons. BOSSK (O.S.) You have a droid that has a microchip in its possession. I am giving you one minute to hand it over before I blow the rest of your medical ship away! INT. HEALING GRACE COCKPIT DOZ It’s going to take longer than one minute. My ship is now a wreck thanks to you. It’s going to take a little time to search for it now! BOSSK (O.S.) Forty-five seconds and counting. Doz turns to BOT. DOZ I’m going to try something. Hang on for dear life. Doz and BOT buckle themselves securely in. BOSSK (O.S.) Thirty seconds and counting. Your time is almost up. EXT. SPACE The Hound’s Tooth races in closer to the Healing Grace, which is now in the lagrange point of the three moons. INT. HEALING GRACE DOZ Okay, here we go. EXT. SPACE The Healing Grace fires its engines in a huge blazing trail that blinds surrounding area. The Hound’s Tooth fires away at the vacated space. A long fiery trail leads around one of the three moons. BOSSK (O.S.) Where did they go? The Healing Grace floats in space. All of its systems are powered off. At this distance, it is almost invisible in the dark of space. INT. HEALING GRACE Doz and BOT look out the cockpit window as they see the Hound’s Tooth pass by their location. DOZ Not too bad of an escape if I say so myself. TINIAN I wouldn’t gloat too much, Doz. Doz whips around to find Tinian standing behind his chair. DOZ I thought that you were-- TINIAN Dead? Well, no thanks to you, I almost was. DOZ Look, we’re in serious trouble. It’s only a matter of time before the Hound’s Tooth turns back and finds us. TINIAN Great! You might as well flare up one last time for a grand finale. DOZ Actually, that’s not a bad idea. TINIAN I was just kidding. DOZ (to Udar) Get back up to the cockpit, Navigator. I’m going to need your assistance. EXT. SPACE The Hound’s Tooth slows and turns in a wide arc. INT. HEALING GRACE UDAR It has turned around and will be at our location in one minute. BOT What do you have in mind, Doz? DOZ As soon as he gets within range, I’ll overload the engines and blow him off our tail. He should be close enough to those moons to make friends with the dirt down there. BOT And hopefully, that will damage his ship enough not to chase us? DOZ Precisely. We should be still safe here in the lagrange point. BOT And if not? DOZ Then we’ll all be blown to bits by the Hound’s Tooth, or we’ll be pulled to the surface of one of those moons as well. BOT That’s not exactly what I would call encouraging. DOZ It’s our only chance. Now, strap yourselves in. I’m going to ignite the engines again. Udar, BOT, Tinian and Chenlambec strap themselves into a pair of seats behind the pilot’s and navigator’s seats. They look outside of the Healing Grace and see that Bossk is at the controls of the Hound’s Tooth. TINIAN It’s been nice knowing you, Bossk. (CONT’D) BOSSK I have finally reclaimed my stolen ship from you, Tinian I’att and Chenlambec! You are now going to pay for taking it from my possession! TINIAN The Hound’s Tooth is in range, Pilot. DOZ Three…two…one…ignition! EXT. SPACE The Healing Grace once again ignites its main engines, leaving a blinding trail of lighted fuel in its wake. The Hound’s Tooth, caught in the gravitational pull of one of Yag’dhul’s moons, falls towards the moon’s surface. It crashes onto the surface of the moon and splits into two pieces. EXT. MOON-DAY Bossk exits the ship just before it explodes in a fiery display. He shakes his fist at the lighted trail that fades slowly from his view. He then breaks out a comlink. BOSSK I’att and Chenlambec have switched sides! They have disabled my ship and left me stranded on Yag’dhul’s smaller moon. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM With twenty thousand credits at stake? Why? BOSSK I don’t know. But the Healing Grace has escaped. I need assistance. CAPTAIN DESNARCAM (O.S.) The Exsanguinator will be at your location shortly. Then we will travel to Naboo where you will not fail me again. Do you understand? BOSSK I understand. Bossk out. EXT. SPACE The Healing Grace (now appearing and transponding as the Quantum Thrust) powers up its hyperdrive as it heads towards Naboo. TINIAN Look, Doz, I want to thank you for saving me back there on Yag’Dhul. DOZ Think nothing of it. I was reacting to the moment. Tinian gives him a cross look and walks out of the cabin. DOZ (CONT’D) (looking at BOT) What did I say? END PART IV. And don't forget: PROJECT MEMBERS, please confine all discussion to the Resource thread. THOSE NOT WORKING ON THE PROJECT, feel free to post here if you want to comment. -----signature----- I apologize to anyone I may have hurt or offended while I was posting here. Namaste.
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