What If: Anakin DIDN'T Win the Pod Race...

Awwww Lwyn'nya... ya beat me to it!

I've been trying to get on here with a response to this thread for the last day or so!

Seriously I have a character I'd like to introduce as a fight promoter. For once, i'd lie to see a strong female non-hero - and a few ideas about how they might raise the money...

I'll try and add something tomorrow...

 

JediLady ~ Eep! Sorry )
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Dinner was spent in an uncomfortable silence. Anakin and Jar Jar had told everyone of the tale of their fight in the Mos Espa canteen with excited zeal. The plan was set. Tomorrow, Obi-Wan would meet with the fight promoter to enroll in the tournament.

So now there was nothing more that needed to be said. It was if the weight of the upcoming events casted a blanked of silence over the table. No one dared to disrupt the defening silence.

Anakin glanced at his mother, a glance that she returned as if to say, "Just let it be, Annie." Jar Jar kept his focus on his plate, but his antenna eyes darted around the room meekly. Even Padme stirred slightly in her chair. Yet no one said a word.

The two Jedi didn't even so much as glance at each other. They seemed to be the only ones comfortable in the anxious silence, as if testing each other's patience.

Finally, Qui-Gon spoke. He set his glass down and without so much as glancing in his apprentice's direction, spoke offhandedly, "I trust you will have healed enough for the tournament tomorrow?" He had meant it as a blank statement, yet it came out sounding like a question.

Obi-Wan, keeping his eyes down, replied in the same manner, "My injuries will not be a problem."

Anakin shared a look with Padme. The Jedi's pointless conversation only served to heighten the level of anxiety in the room, like a powder keg ready to blow. They were dreadfully expecting it soon. Why now?? Anakin thought to himself.

"You should be mindful, Padawan," Qui-Gon spoke, his tone as indifferent as his demeanor, as if he were talking about the weather. "Your opponents will use any weakness they can find against you."

The younger Jedi blinked, keeping his facial expression neutral. But Padme was seasoned at reading facial expressions. It was a tremendous asset to her as a leader of a nation. Sometimes expressions on a person's face belied their true feelings or intentions. And she could see that the younger Jedi was struggling to maintain his nerve.

But the struggle wasn't evident in his voice. "I will not give them the opportunity to do so, Master. Again, it will not be a problem."

Qui-Gon seemed to crack first as he set his fork down, his calm demeanor shattering to reveal a more turbulent emotion. "Obi-Wan I order you not to do this!"

The keg had been ignited, and now all were caught in the ensuing explosion.

The younger Jedi's head snapped up, his own cool demeanor burning in his determination. He locked eyes with Qui-Gon, both refusing to back down. "What other choice do we have, Master?" he snapped, "The Naboo are dying while we are trapped here! Who else would we send in? The Hutts already know of you. There is no one else!"

From beneath the table, Anakin reached out and squeezed his mother's hand.

"Unfortunately, Qui-Gon, he's-" Padme started in a soothing tone, hoping to calm the storm. But the Jedi Master didn't even pay attention to her. His focus was on Obi-Wan.

"I will not allow it." Qui-Gon said with strong coolness, regaining his calm, but letting his voice carry his sheer will. He had broken eye contact with Obi-Wan, thinking the matter was resolved. Anakin could almost detect a note of threat underneath Qui-Gon's statement. He guessed that it was unheard of for a Jedi student to challenge his teacher, let alone defy him. The younger boy gulped. Things had gone from bad to worse.

For a long moment, the younger Jedi simply stared at Qui-Gon in silence. Then Obi-Wan stood from the table, staring down at his Master. "With all due respect, Master," he spoke, having lost the wrath in his voice. Now his voice was rich with grim determination. "It is something I will do." He turned to the table before Qui-Gon could reply. "Excuse me," he acknowledged them all, turned, and left the room.

Shmi, Anakin, Jar Jar, and Padme sat completely still, embarassed by the confrontation. The tension in the air left it humid, unsettling.

Shmi risked a look at the Jedi Master. Qui-Gon sat there, eyes focused on the table,

 

That night Obi-wan had a dream that he had to fight Qui-gon. That morning Obi told Qui-gon about the dream,he said it was true. Obi was fuireus. He walked into the next room and told the others. When Padma herd she said"How could you do this to us.

 

God, I hope that was a joke. Please, let that be a joke.

 

*twitch*

 

Give me a break. This is the same crap that happened with podracer and the what if episode one thread.

There's always one that has to **** it up.

**sigh**

 

Nice to have the stuff back...

Lywanna--> you and I need to confer on the way we want the tournament to end, I too have a little twist planned for the end...drop me an email

SRS--> I wasn't implying a fall for anything anytime soon...but Anakin has to fall eventually or its not Star Wars right? and if he has to fall he needs motivation, but if he's never seperated from his mother (and with both of them free now, why would he be?) he may never find that fear in him to turn...I was merely suggesting that the moral ambiguity of Jinn's methods may create a confusion in anakin that could lead him to take matters into his own hands later...not anytime in the near future mind you, but later...

 

ok...starship, podracer, whatever your name is...you've got to do better than that man...you can see a bunch of us trying to develope a plot and then you just go and flush it...sorry dude, but I'm just gonna ignore your post...and I encourage the other writers to do the same...

anyway...I'm gonna write a little flash back to the bar fight...and pick up the slack with our little buddy maul...stay tuned...
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THIS IS A FLASHBACK TO KENOBI'S BARFIGHT...

Obi Wan adjusted the leather jacket as he walked the dusty streets towards the cantina, Qui-Gon by his side.

master Jinn was still cloaked in the common farmer's poncho he'd warn his entire time planetside. Kenobi's clothes had been requisioned from a local beggar in exchange for a hot meal from the Skywalker's modest kitchen. The clothes were dirty and a bit small, but they would be less conspicious than his Jedi robes.

Kenobi nodded to Qui-Gon as he approached the door, tucking his braid into a head band. Jinn smiled in spite of himself.

"You swagger like a Correllian. I have no doubt that the living Force will guide you to do something rash and stubborn," he deadpanned. "For the greater good."

Kenobi stifled a laugh and broke into his character by shoving Jinn to the floor and kicking a pile of dust in his face.

"Shove it old man," he said, his true friendly affection reaching out through his feigned rudeness. "Now get out of here."

Qui-Gon nodded surreptitiously and scampered to his feet and back into the crowd. Kenobi fixed a scowl and sauntered through the door into the bar.

**********

Maul walked slowly around the edge of the blast crater. The ion device had left no wreckage, no debris. Only a giant burn mark and various chunks of sand melted into glass.

Everything looked as it should. And yet Maul felt nothing. He could not sense the presence of the light, like the smell of a wounded animal, as he always could when he stalked Jedi.

The presence of the Jedi was missing. And if they were alive, the Queen was alive. Maul sneered.

"So much the better," he thought as his hands caressed the lightsaber hanging from his belt. "The kill is never so good as the hunt..."

With that thought, the dark man resumed his relentless search.

**********

The wierd assortment of characters all turned to face the newcomer when Obi-Wan bellied up to the bar and ordered an Correlian stout. Searching for a suitable thug to challenge. He didn't have to search long.

From accross the room he saw a rather large, rather hairy humanoid turn over his table and slap a nearly nude Twi-lek waitress to the floor.

"And here I thought I'd have to play the bad guy," Kenobi thought to himself as he moved slowly towards the man who was grunting at the girl in Huttesse.

"Inta ho! Cheska besko! fa tooda!" he shouted, a dirty split-lip quivering as he spoke. Obi-Wan wasn't sure he followed, but the man seemed to be rather angry about her refusal of his rather lewd proposal.

The young Jedi laughed out loud, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the bar.

"Something on your mind outlander?" the gross beast said, turning his attention to Kenobi, cracking his knuckles.

"I don't approve of your kind of charm," Kenobi said in a slow arrogant drawl.

"Oh really? and why's that?"

"I find it often ruins my chances later," Kenobi said, very satisfied by his ability to put such a huge chip on his shoulder. "I mean, seriously, you think she'll let any of us have a peice now? why'd you have to ruin it for all of us?"

His eyes never left the hulk as he reached down, helping the girl to her feat and patting her on the rump as she ran for cover.

The man just stood there still unbelieving that some small human had dared confront him, right here infront of everyone no less.

"whatever," obi wan sighed, preparing to add the last insult. "after being man handled by an oaf like you, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to talk to me."

And with that the Jedi turned and began to walk away.

Enraged that this arrogant little man would dare turn his back, the giant rushed...

Only to find Obi-Wan's knee planted squarely in his gut.

"Careful, young Padawan," Obi Wan thought to himself, mocking his teacher. "Don't show them too much art, you don't want to tip them off as to your true identity."

His thought was interrupted when a chair came flying accross the room, missing his head by under a foot. Obi-Wan turned in the direction of the throw. It seemed other patrons were taking the opportunity to settle

 

Lwyn'nya - hey it's not your fault the server's been down!

Another point - we need to specify the format of the tournament. Is it like boxing matches one-on-one, or group fights with a 'last-man-standing' rule? We've already laid the grounds that the prize for this competition is big - so the competition itself is going to be quite large. I doubt whether you could have a satisfactory event over one day. How many fights could a being be expected to fight (and still be entertaining) in one day. Two? Three? Even five would only give you a maximum of 32 entrants for a boxing style contest - and I doubt whether even Obi-Wan would be good enough to get in at such short notice. Remember this is about spectacle and money-making - I'd suspect it would be more like a couple of weeks from the preliminaries to the final. Outsiders would have to fight in the preliminaries with the big stars being seeded into later rounds (a bit like a tennis championship). Also fighters need a chance to recover between bouts, especially in Tatooine's climate, or the fights become slower and less audience friendly.

The Boonta festival always struck me as being a long festival, rather than a day or so. It doesn't make sense to have a big event like the pod race followed immediately by another big event - if nothing else it decreases the merchandising and ticket sales! The pod race is the start of the festivities, and the final of the tournament is the climax. We already had a Roman-style 'chariot race' to start the Boonta. How about finishing it off with a gladiatorial match?

Obviously we don't need to script every match!

Lwyn'nya How about if your promoter is the guy who gets Obi-Wan into the preliminaries. The kind of manager I have in mind wouldn't hang around for bar-fights, but she would have agents watching for likely prospects in the less-popular early rounds. I intend to pick up from where we are now with this idea.

Anyone disagrees or has a better one, feel free to respond.

 

JediLady / Elegant . . .

I'm rather conflicted on the fights. True, they should last a little longer than one day, but we also don't want to make it too long. Remember, there are still Naboo-ians dying. And I'm all for a new promoter, but I'm not sure how prominent we want to make her figure if they're going to make it off Tatooine. I think that's why George Lucas kept characters like Kitster and Wald small, so that they don't leave a lingering presence, or the audience isn't wondering 'well, what happened to them?'. It all depends on where you want the main focus of the story to be. In TPM, it was on Coruscant and Naboo, thus the reason why they kept Tatooine more to the point, skipping on things like a brief history of the planet, or having lingering characters. Tatooine was there solely for the purpose to meet Anakin and for the thrill of the podrace. If they drew it out too long, they risked losing the audience's interest, and the audience would lose sight of the main focus of the story. So, to reiterate, I'm all for a new promotor (and JediLady's idea of an evil woman promoter is a great idea!!), but I'm hesitant on the idea of expanding on her character. What do you guys think?

As for the fight, I'm thinking one-on-one eliminations until you get Obi-Wan and some competitor. JediLady ~ I bounced an idea by Elegant on this one. Drop her a line

 

Lwyn'nya - I agree we can't spend too much time here, but I think that by destroying the Queen's ship we've shifted the focus irrevocably to Tatooine. There's no quick-and-easy escape as yet. I was thinking of perhaps a week. Now the gang are REALLY stuck, with Maul breathing down their necks. Any confrontation with Maul is going to be more significant than jumping on a ship and waving bye-bye.

Oh, and I forgot to ask what your idea was...
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Back to the story.... I reserve the right to rewrite this completely if the plot changes direction

The squid-faced alien pushed his way through the sweating crowds in the arena, whispering softly into a recording device slung round his neck. Getree Po found this place disgusting, especially this late into the evening. The air was foul with a haze of drug-laced smoke and the stink of the body fluids of a hundred species crammed into the ill-ventilated room liberally mixed with cheap drink and the faint metallic tang of blood. Voices clamoured around him shouts of odds and bets, grumbling over payment and goading the contestants in the pits.

Getree Po hated it, but he had a job to do. Today he hated it even more than usual. The fighters he had seen today were generally an unprepossessing bunch. Little real flair and certainly not matching up to the rather specific requirements he had. Not a one of them was likely to last more than a few moments against a real professional. One promising slave had put up a good match, but the Rodian he'd been fighting had managed to break his arm with a kick. Po grumbled to himself as he approached the last-but-one pit of his rounds.

The first thing that struck him was the lack of noise. No catcalling or trading, just an appreciative murmur. Unable to see over the spectators in front of him, Po shoved his way through the crowd, angry faces backing away as they saw who he was. He looked down in the pit wondering what was happening. A scruffy young man in farmer gear was pinned by the throat against one wall by a female Selonian This was not unexpected, and Po sighed and began to turn away, and in doing so almost missed what happened next. He stared in amazement as the farmer boy somehow managed to break free of the grip, in the same instant twisting the Selonian's forelimb so sharply she snarled and half tuned away. The young man rolled to one side, coming up smoothly to his feet as the Selonian attacked again, four-footedly. The young man turned aside, smoothly transferring his momentum into a waist-high kick that landed just behind the ear of the more clumsy Selonian, which collapsed soundlessly into a heap.

The surrounding crowd roared its appreciation and suddenly the mob was alive with credit slips and wafers exchanging hands. The young man stood in the pit, leaning with his hands on his knees in tiredness, but a broad grin on his face as he looked up at someone in the crowd. A familiar scar-faced man jumped down and slapped the farmer on the shoulder and Po smiled. He flipped a switch on the device hung round his neck and spoke into it "I believe I found one, Mistress."

Obi-Wan Kenobi was grateful of a helping hand out of the pit, as his muscles and ribs ached abominably. Qui-Gon hauled his padawan back onto the level as easily as another man might lift a child, and like an anxious father,began checking him over for serious injury. Trying hard not to laugh, to save his ribs further torment, Obi-Wan assured him /I'm fine - or at least I will be in a bit/. Qui-Gon smiled tightly, and rested a supporting hand on Kenobi's shoulder. He still felt guilty about the desperate circumstance that had forced his padawan into this situation and keenly felt every blow that young Obi-Wan took on his behalf. The two Jedi watched each other for a moment, before they were interrupted by the arrival of the burly fight promoter.

"Well done, lad. Well done!" the man laughed. "I almost thought she had you there, but I should have known better by now.". He slapped Kenobi on the back, causing him to wince slightly. "The draws

 

Ok, as the story's resident martial artist (I encourage all of you to visit the Martial Arts threads in Misc...), here's how I had picture the tourney...

one on one fights...a couple prelims to gain notice and then a series of fights on the last day...Tatooiine is a BRUTAL planet of extremes, the tournament has to reflect that...which is why I say, mutliple one-on-ones, all on the same day...

remember Obi-Wan is going to be much much better than the common pit fighters because he has Jedi training and reflexes...the only way to add tension is to wear him down by making him fight again and again and again with little rest in between...by the time of the final, sundown on the last day maybe, he'll have taken such a beating that he'll have all but lost his advantages...then we'll have some tension...

as for the character of the promoter...she'll be a good plot device to explain the rules, and to offer explanations...

well, what do yall think?

 

Ok yall...JediLady, lywna, and myself have worked out a little plan for the future of this thread...

so whenever you're ready JediLady...take it away...

 

back to the top!

JediLady ~ Floor's yours, girlfriend! Take it away!

 

...and now for the next installment in our ongoing saga....

Shmi fussed over the young Jedi even more than his master had done, sitting him down at the table with a plate of food while she tended various bruises and scrapes. Between mouthfuls, Obi-Wan protested his well-being only to be silenced by a glare - you know that glare that all mothers have perfected.

Anakin slumped at the dining table, struggling to keep his eyes open as Qui-Gon related the day's events, occasionally punctuated by interruptions from the others. He was fascinated, but the lateness of the hour made his eyelids heavy.

Next to him, Padme watched and listened in silence. Despite their apparent grim demeanour and the 'Jedi frown' that they favoured, she was beginning to appreciate the Jedi more. She felt more than a little ashamed at her harsh treatment of them, after all they had risked a great deal to rescue her and her entourage from Naboo in the first place. The destruction of her ship had only confirmed their assertion that the situation was more dangerous than she had believed. Qui-Gon had perhaps too trustingly gambled everything, but it had been their desperate circumstances that had forced his hand. Now the younger Jedi was literally risking his life for her and her people. Idly Padme wondered how old the padawan really was. Most of the time he'd been in his mentor's shadow, but now he seemed to have relaxed a little and his occasional smile made her realise that he was younger than she had first assumed. She didn't realise she was watching him until she was disturbed from her reverie by Anakin falling against her, having finally lost the battle with his eyelids. Startled and embarrassed she returned her attention to the conversation.

"... so, after we've eaten and cleaned up, we'll be heading off to meet this Shaori woman." Qui-Gon concluded.

Shmi pursed her lips. "I've heard of Ka'andera Shaori. You want to watch her, it's said she's in with the Hutts. She's dangerous company." All eyes swivelled to look at Shmi, who folded her hands on the table and looked at Qui-Gon. "The Shaori family are very rich and not entirely legitimate. They own a string of gladiators, not just for in the Boonta Games, but all year round. The school has produced some great champions." She looked worried.

Qui-Gon nodded at her. He could sense genuine concern radiating from Shmi, but he also realised that the invitation held the key to the way off-planet.

************************************

Some time later, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stood outside a large walled dwelling, with heavy blast-proof doors. Looking around for some kind of bell-push proved fruitless, so the older man settled for rapping on the door with his knuckles. There was a long pause. Obi-Wan turned to his master "I don't think there's anyone at home...", when suddenly with a grinding of gears, the door wound open. The two Jedi stepped into a softly lit hallway, where they were greeted by the squid-face from the pit arena. The short alien squinted appraisingly at them, "Hmph, I suppose you'll have to do. My mistress will be with you shortly, if you'd care to wait here." The non-human made a sketchy bow and backed away through ornate bronze doors at the far end of the atrium.

The atrium was quite a large room, with a pool in the centre and jewel-bright fish, an incredible luxury on a desert planet like Tatooine. However it was the displays on the walls that caught the Jedi's attention. Someone had amassed a substantial collection of decorative weaponry, although all of it was clearly functional. Spears, pikes, swords, Kh'larri, Genidian Bae, axes, Ikkitin and other gleaming objects fought for space on the wall or in decorative cases. Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon wandered around admiring the display, till they came to what was obviously the centrepiece of the arrangement. "Master," breathed Obi-Wan, "Lightsabres!". Qui-Gon felt a faint chill run through him. Jedi did not give up a lightsabre lightly, usually only in death. This woman had three on display in her hallway.

Whatever else might have gone

 

Fifteen thousand? We could almost buy our own ship for that!

 

This is a really excellent thread, y'all. I particularly enjoy getting to see the seedy side of Tatooine. As an inveterate Westerner (in exile), I always wanted to see how a Jedi would do in a bar fight, too.

I was wondering, would anyone mind if I pitched in on a little side story? Nothing that would interfere, just a bit of fleshing out...

 

Tranquil Fire ~ Sure! I've got no prob with that My part isn't coming up till later anyhoo Have a blast!

 

great story u guys can i help in any way with it??

 

Hey all! Back form vacation -- glad to see that this thread wasn't forgotten! Great job everyone...

--Security

 

Amidala--> Lwyna, JediLady and I have something special planned for the near future...stay tuned...and if you have any ideas email one of us!

 

okay i'll let u know my ideas

 

If you all wouldn't mind, I'd like to be added to the ICQ lists of all the regular contributors to this thread...

ICQ: 45306035
EMAIL: skywalker-ranch-security@bigfoot.com

Thanks!

--Security

 

JediLady ~ Keep up the good work, hun! I'm waiting to see what happens to Obi-Wan in the first fights