Star Wars-The Starkiller Base eBook #starwars #ebooks

                 "...And in the time of greatest 
                 despair there shall come a savior, 
                 and he shall be known as: THE SON 
                 OF THE SUNS." 

                               Journal of the Whills, 3:127 
                               ------- -- --- ------ 

          FADE IN: 

     1.   SPACE 

          A vast sea of stars is broken as the warm, amber surface 
          of the planet, UTAPAU, emerges from a total eclipse.  Five 
          small moons slowly drift into view from the far side of 
          the planet.  The MAIN TITLE is followed by a ROLL-UP: 

                    The REPUBLIC GALACTICA is dead.  Ruthless 
                    trader barons, driven by greed and the 
                    lust for power, have replaced enlightenment 
                    with oppression, and "rule by the people" 
                    with the FIRST GALACTIC EMPIRE. 

                    Until the tragic Holy Rebellion of "06", 
                    the respected JEDI BENDU OF ASHLA were the 
                    most powerful warriors in the Universe. 
                    For a hundred thousand years, generations 
                    of Jedi Bendu knights learned the ways of 
                    the mysterious FORCE OF OTHERS, and acted 
                    as the guardians of peace and justice in 
                    the REPUBLIC.  Now these legendary warriors 
                    are all but extinct.  One by one they have 
                    been hunted down and destroyed by a fero- 
                    cious rival sect of mercenary warriors: 
                    THE BLACK KNIGHIS OF THE SITH. 

                    It is a period of civil wars.  The EMPIRE 
                    is crumbling into lawless barbarism through- 
                    out the million worlds of the galaxy. From 
                    the celestial equator to the farthest 
                    reaches of the GREAT RIFT, seventy small 
                    solar systems have united in a common war 
                    against the tyranny of the Empire.  Under 
                    the command of a mighty Jedi warrior known 
                    as THE STARKILLER, the REBEL ALLIANCE has 
                    won a crushing victory over the deadly 
                    Imperial Star Fleet.  The Empire knows that 
                    one more such defeat will bring a thousand 
                    more solar systems into the rebellion, and 
                    Imperial control of the Outlands could be 
                    lost forever... 

          A tiny silver space craft races from behind one of the 
          lifeless Utapau moons.  The small rebel spacefighter is 
          being chased by four giant Imperial stardestroyers. Hun- 
          dreds of deadly laser bolts streak from the Imperial 
          warships as they dive on the smaller craft. 

          Every few moments, the little rebel ship returns the fire, 
          until one of the Imperial battlewagons explodes, causing 
          it to fall out of formation.  The three remaining star- 
          destroyers continue the pursuit. 


          The two elaborate laser gun turrets belch a smoky exhaust 
          as the gun crews, wearing heat-protective suits, gogglss 
          and breath masks, cheer and congratulate each other on the 
          direct hit.  The gunnery CHIEF finishes speaking into his 
          helmet "com-link", and yells to the crew. 

                        I don't know what you boys are 
                        so cheery about; there are still 
                        three more out there. 

          The crews snap-to, and turn back to their giant guns. Sev- 
          eral stubby, three-legged ROBOTS scurry to and fro, bring- 
          ing equipment, and repairing damage to sections of the 


          The chaos of battle echoes through the narrow, main passage- 
          way of the starfighter.  An explosion rocks the ship, and 
          two construction robots, ARTOO DETOO (R2-D2) and SEE THREEPIO 
          (C-3PO) struggle to make their way through the shaking, 
          bouncing passageway.  Both robots are old and battered. 
          Artoo is a short (36 inches), claw-armed, tri-ped.  His face 
          is a mass of computer lights, surrounding a radar eye. 
          Threepio, on the other hand, is a tall, slender robot of 
          human prooortions.  He has a gleaming bronze-like metallic 
          surface of an "Art Deco" design. 

                        Artoo, my friend, this is madness! 
                        If this keeps up, we're going to 
                        be destroyed.  I'm afraid I'm still 
                        not accustomed to space travel... 
                        What are we to do? 

          The little dwarf robot makes a series of electronic sounds 
          that only a robot could understand. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Relax?!?...What do you mean we're 
                        in no immediate danger??! You're 
                        faulty, this is madness! 

          Artoo gives his tall companion a sheepish computer blink 
          and starts off down the hallway. . 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Artoo Detoo, wait!  Wait a 

          Threepio climbs through a hatch and starts after Artoo. 

     4.   EXT. SPACE BATTLE 

          One of the giant Imperial Stardestroyers breaks formation 
          and surges ahead of the others, closing on the tiny rebel 
          space craft.  The main battery of laser cannons on the 
          huge Imperial warship directs an overwhelming concentra- 
          tion or laser fire at the main solar fin on the rebelship. 
          Finally it disintegrates, creating a spectacular heavenly 


          A sudden pressure change sucks equipment and debris through 
          the power section of the spacefighter.  Alarms are sound- 
          ing everywhere.  The spaceship shudders under the impact 
          of the Imperial barrage.  Artoo and Threepio are blown, 
          slipping and sliding across the hallway floor into a stack 
          of freight canisters.  The lanky Threepio becomes lodged 
          under a computer console. 

                        I'm dead!...I told you this 
                        would happen.  Artoo, I can't 

          Little Artoo waddles over to his trapped companion.  He 
          clears away several mangled canisters and climbs under the 
          sparking and smoking computer.  He is chattering away in 
          an elaborate combination of whistles, beeps and clicks. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Oh my, I think something is 
                        melting.  Artoo Detoo, this is 
                        all your fault...I should have 
                        known better than to listen to 
                        a half-pint thermo-astronic 
                        capulary dehousing - assister. 
                        You're truly faulty. 

          Artoo counters with a rather angry rebuttal as he struggles 
          to pull the larger robot free from the small leg space under 
          the computer console.  Two MEN hurriedly enter the power 
          station and begin checking the damage.  The robots can only 
          see the humans' legs as they pass to and fro in front of 
          the desk-like console; but they recognize the voice of their 
          captain: DEAK STARKILLER. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Shhh, it's the captain... 

          The captain's FIRST OFFICER pops his head under the console 
          and sees Artoo straining to free Threepio.  The little robot 

                        Well, Hello!  Are you boys all 

                        Yes sir, I'll be out in a minute. 
                        No damage that I can tell. Sorry 
                        to be of trouble, sir... 

                        As you were. 

          Artoo goes back to his pulling and pushing as the officer 
          again becomes a pair of legs, and is joined by the sturdier 
          legs of Captain Starkiller. 

                                  OFFICER (CONT'D) 
                        There's a C-3 unit jammed under 
                        the console, but no damage, sir. 

          Artoo uses one of his claw arms to cut away a small metal 
          beam bent around Threepio's shoulder. 

                        The solar activators are burned 
                        out.  The shields are down. 
                        They'll be boarding in no time. 
                        There is a Sith knight among 
                        them.  I can feel his para-force. 
                        Hurry, secure your assault posi- 
                        tions.  The BOGAN force is strong 
                        with the enemy. 

                        Yes sir, the men are ready. 

          The officer bows low and hurries out of the smoldering cham- 
          ber.  Artoo stops his work, and the robots quietly watch 
          Deak's legs as he paces the room.  He stands for a few mo- 
          ments in meditation.  The two mechanical men suddenly feel 
          as if they are intruding, and every little creak and noise 
          becomes an embarrassment.  A VOICE from another part of the 
          ship yells out to the captain, and he rushes out of the room. 
          Threepio breathes a sigh of relief. 

                       I think there will be no es- 
                       cape for the captain this time... 


          The smoldering silver rebel craft is quickly surrounded by 
          the three giant Imperial warships.  One of the huge star- 
          destroyers moves into orbit just above the helpless rebel 


          An awesome array of lighted panels and computer monitors are 
          reflected in the polished black helmets of six Imperial 
          master-pilots.  A fifth-ranked General of the Fleet sits in 
          a rotating chair suspended from the cabin ceiling, watching 
          the chief pilot maneuver the huge warship above the tiny 
          rebel spacefighter. 

                                  CHIEF PILOT 
                        That's as close as I dare take 

                             (into intercom) 
                       We are in position...stand by. 
                       Remember, Lord Vader wants as 
                       many of them taken alive as is 
                       possible.  There will be no 


          The huge gray underbelly of the Imperial warship hovers less 
          than twenty feet above the rebel spacefighter. 

          A small hatch near one of the complex antenna groupings 
          silently slides open.  With fascist precision, ten storm- 
          troopers wearing ominous armored spacesuits drop onto the 
          top of the disabled rebel craft. A burly sergeant aims 
          his powerful laser pistol at the silver hull. 


          A tremendous blast opens up a hole six feet wide in the 
          side of the main passageway, sucking equipment and debris 
          into the vacuum of space.  Three fearsome stormtroopers 
          armed with chrome multi-laser rifles make their way through 
          the smoking debris into the padded hallway.  The SERGEANT 
          and four more armored troopers quickly follow. 

                        Use your blades!  There's too 
                        much risk of blaster ricochet 
                        in these cramped quarters. 

          The troops sling the rifles over their shoulders and take 
          a small baton from their belts, which instantly ignites 
          into a long glowing laser sword. 

          At the far end of the passageway, a door swings wide reveal- 
          ing a rebel warrior wearing a breath mask and dressed in 
          the distinctive uniform of an AQUILLIAN RANGER.  A long, 
          deadly laser sword glows in his right hand, while several 
          chrome ping-pong sized balls magically appear in his left. 
          Tiny antenna project from the chrome balls, and before the 
          stormtroopers can raise their weapons, the balls fly out 
          of the ranger's hand.  One of the balls stops in the middle 
          of the troops and explodes.  Three other balls shoot through 
          the hole ripped in the side of the ship. 


          Six armored stormtroopers are assembled on the sleak silver 
          hull of the rebel spacefighter.  The three chrome balls fly 
          out of the rebel craft just as several more troops drop from 
          the hatch of the Imperial stardestroyer.  One or the seeker- 
          bombs explodes among the assembled troops, flinging most of 
          them into the vastness of space.  The two remaining bombs 
          rocket toward the open hatch of the Imperial warship.  One 
          of the surviving stormtroopers, clinging to the rebel craft, 
          yells into his helmet intercom as he aims a laser pistol at 
          the tiny chrome projectiles. 

                        Seekers!  Seekers!  Close the 

          A blast from the laser pistol hits one of the balls, and 
          it explodes harmlessly outside the stardestroyer.  The 
          second seeker bomb races into the stardestroyer, just as 
          the hatch slides closed.  A muffled explosion is heard in- 
          side the huge spacecraft. 


          The Aquillian ranger charges what's left of the storm- 
          troopers.  He swings his glowing laser sword high over his 
          head; but before he can bring the deadly blade down on a 
          victim, four more troops enter the ship and assail the 
          ranger.  He. puts up a good fight, but soon falls under the 
          superior odds.  A half dozen more armored stormtroopers 
          enter the damaged ship and cautiously make their way down 
          the narrow hallway. 


          Smoke fills the crowded cockpit of the rebel starship. The 
          pilot struggles to remove a wounded comrade as an exhausted 
          Aquillian RANGER enters and bows before Deak Starkiller. 
          The young captain's face is covered by a small, ornate face 
          mask, but he appears to be about twenty-five years old. He 
          is wearing the loose-fitting robes of a Jedi knight. 

                        The Bogan force is too strong 
                        upon us.  Our spirit is broken. 

                        You must rally the men, fight 
                        off your despair.  The force of 
                        others is still with us... 

                        Clieg is dead.  They're blasting 
                        the lifepods before we can clear 
                        the ship.  We're trapped... 

                        Then we must make this treachery 
                        costly for them.  Return to your 

          The ranger bows low before the Jedi starcaptain, and rushes 
          out of the cockpit.  The pilot has returned to his seat in 
          front of the ship's main control board. 

                                  DEAK (CONT'D) 
                        What's the power now? 

                                  PILOT (TYREE) 
                        It's up to five point nine; but 
                        we'll need a lot more to ignite 
                        the engines...There just isn't 
                        enough time... 

                        Keep at it.   I'm going aft. 

                                  PILOT (TYREE) 
                        But what about your father. He 
                        must have the KIBER Crystal if 
                        Ogana Major is to survive.  He 
                        won't be able to hold out against 
                        the Imperial siege much longer. 
                        The risk was too great.  We'll 
                        never be able to make contact 
                        with Luke now.  We've lost every- 
                        thing.  We should never... 

                        You're feeling the Bogan's despair. 
                        Be strong, Tyree, drive it from 
                        your thoughts.  Luke is father's 
                        only hope...maybe there is still 
                        a slim chance we might salvage 

          He moves to the computer bank, and speaks into the intercom. 

                                  DEAK (CONT'D) 
                        All R-2 units stand by for new 
                        prime directive programming... 

          He turns back to the pilot for a moment. 

                                  DEAK (CONT'D) 
                        What's the R-2 scramble code? 

                                  Pilot (TYREE) 
                        "Tan-takk RS-411".  Do you think 
                        one of them might get through? 

                        I'm afraid the chances of an R-2 
                        unit finding Luke down there are 
                        much better than Luke's chances 
                        of getting back to father...R-2 
                        units compute as follows: Scramble 
                        code, tan-takk RS-411.  Prime 
                        directive - contact code "Angel 
                        blue".  Seek OWEN LARS at or near 
                        position: 321-DC-28.  Relay the 
                        following transcription: 


          Little Artoo stands ridged in the middle of the smoke-filled 
          passageway.  Threepio runs awkwardly toward the tiny robot 
          from a large hatchway at one end of the corridor.  Artoo's 
          computer face blinks wildly. 

                        We're cut off.  They're coming 
                        from that direction.  I heard 
                        them.  Come on, we'll have to go 
                        back the way we came. 

          Artoo lets out a long musical whistle, but doesn't move. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Wait!?? They'll be here in mo- 
                        ments!  I have no intenticn of 
                        getting sent to the spice mines 
                        of KESSAL, or smashed into... 
                        what?!  A new prime directive!??! 
                        Oh no!  Not at a time like this! 
                        How much longer? 

          The muted sounds of grinding and crushing get louder until 
          a dozen Imperial stormtroopers, wearing spooky-looking armor, 
          enter the passageway.  They arrange themselves geometrically, 
          their movements synchronized, as they move stealthily through 
          the unusually wide corridor.  Threepio grabs his little part- 
          ner and struggles to drag him into the shadows of an emer- 
          gency ventilator system.  Hard and weary, the troops advance 
          -- their glowing laser swords held at ready.  Suddenly, 
          directly in back of the stormtroopers, about ten feet away, 
          the imposing young Jedi, Deak Starkiller, steps from behind 
          the open hatch. 

          His chrome laser pistol still rests in its holster; but his 
          laser sword sparks to life with a sharp hum.  One of the 
          troopers senses his presence and turns freezing momentarily. 
          The rest of the troops turn a second later, almost as a re- 
          flex action.  A slow grim smile creeps across Deak's face, 
          as the troops realize they are outmatched. 

                        He's a Jedi.  Use your blasters! 

          Six troopers who are carrying their chrome laser rifles at 
          the ready start to step forward and raise their weapons. 
          Deak is quicker.  In one amazing movement, he spins around, 
          replacing his laser sword to his belt, and draws his deadly 
          laser pistol, blasting out four shots that rip through the 
          soldiers.  In a few moments, the entire passageway blazes 
          with laser fire.  Laser bolts ricochet in wild random pat- 
          terns, creating small explosions and finally a small hole in 
          the wall, which sucks debris and stormtroopers into space, 
          until finally it is plugged by a large supply canister. 

          Artoo and Threepio are plummeted by loose equipment and de- 
          bris.  Threepio attempts to cover his head.  Artoo pulls a 
          grate off the vent system and starts to enter the dark shaft. 
          Threepio clings to a side rail for dear life as debris and 
          laser bolts fly past him.  Artoo beeps to his tcrrified com- 

                        No more adventures!  I'm not 
                        going in there.  No!  Never! 

          Artoo disappears down the ominous shaft.  He leaves his friend 
          with a few parting whistles. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Don't call me a mindless philosopher, 
                        you overweight glob of grease!  I 
                        simply think you are going the wrong 

          Threepio peers into the gloom of the vent shaft. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Hello?!?  Artoo?... 


          Stormtroopers scatter and run down an adjoining passageway; 
          others duck behind storage lockers. 

          Multiple laser fire rips through several stormtroopers who 
          scream and stagger from the smoke, holding shattered arms 
          and faces.  Deak and two Aquillian rangers back into a 
          sealed corridor at the far end of the passageway.  Deak's 
          gun jams, and the two rangers are cut down behind him. The 
          young Jedi ignites his glowing red laser sword and begins 
          swinging.  Stormtroopers are cut down right and left, un- 
          til they flee the corridor in panic, firing wildly as they 
          stumble over canisters to escape. 

          Suddenly several of the panic-stricken troopers who had fled 
          downn a sub-hallway are back into the cockpit area, more 
          afraid of what's down the sub-hallway than the deadly Jedi's 
          blade.  Troopers still fleeing the area crash into those re- 

                        The Sith Knight...Lord Vader is 
                        coming.  Go back.  Go back! 

          A new courage, or greater fear, seizes the troops and they 
          turn on Deak again and renew the attack.  The troops scram- 
          ble away from the sub-hallway entrance, as something un- 
          speakably evil and terrifying approaches the cabin. 


          The tall, gleaming Threepio rushes through several low, nar- 
          row corridors, yelling at Artoo, who races along as fast as 
          his stubby mechanical feet will carry him. 

                        Wait!  Wait a minute.  I'm coming. 
                        ...Would you mind telling me where 
                        you are off to? 

          Artoo throws a short beep over his shoulder. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 

                        Leaving?!  Leaving where?  Don't 
                        be ridiculous, that's desertion! 
                        I order you to stop.  Did you 
                        hear me?  Stop! 

          Artoo continues on, countering with a frenzy of elcctronic 
          whistles and twangs. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        What new prime directive?  Why 
                        didn't I receive it? 
                        What's so important that I'm 
                        not to be trusted?  I don't 
                        believe you.  I think you're 

          Artoo stops before the small hatch of an emergency lifepod. 
          He snaps the seal on the main latch and a red warning light 
          begins to flash.  The stubby, dwarf-robot works his way 
          into the cramped four-man pod. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        Hey!  What are you doing?  You 
                        can't use that!...It's restricted. 
                        You're not permitted in there; 
                        you'll be de-activated for sure. 
                        The situation is not _that_ des- 
                        perate!  Now come out of there 
                        before someone sees you. 

          A new explosion, this time very close, sends dust and debris 
          through the narrow sub-hallway.  Flames lick at the two ro- 
          bots.  After a flurry of electronic swearing from Artoo, the 
          lanky bronze Threepio jumps into the lifepod. 

                                  THREEPIO (CONT'D) 
                        I think I'm going to regret this; 
                        but my prime directive IS preser- 

          The safety door snaps shut, and with the thunder of explod- 
          ing latches, the tiny lifepod ejects from the disabled star- 


          On the main viewscreen, the lifepod carrying the two terri- 
          fied robots speeds away from the stricken rebel spacecraft. 

                                  CHIEF PILOT 
                        There goes another one.  Look. 

                        Hold your fire.  No lifeforms. 
                        It must have short-circuited. 

          The captain gets a message on his headset. 

                                  CAPTAIN (CONT'D) 
                        Yes...Yes...He's on his way 
                        down now...No.  Good, excellent. 
                        I'll relay it. 
                             (he turns to 
                              the pilots) 
                        The ship is ours! 

          The pilots cheer and an excited murmur rushes throughout 
          the ship. 


          The reddish-yellow mass of Utapau seems to engulf the tiny 
          lifepod containing the two robots.  The grouping of star- 
          destroyers grows smaller as the pod descends toward the 

                        That's funny, the damage 
                        doesn't look as bad from out 
                        here.  Are you sure this thing 
                        is safe? 


          Deak Starkiller cuts down several troops who make a fren- 
          zied, suicidal charge with laser swords. 

                        The Bogan!  The Bogan! 

          They are no match for the incredibly agile young Jedi.  For 
          an eerie moment, all is deathly quiet as a huge darker figure 
          appears in the sub-hallway.  The remaining stormtroooers bow 
          low toward the doorway.  An awesome, seven-foot BLACK KNIGHT 
          OF THE SITH makes his way into the blinding light of the cock- 
          pit area.  This is LORD DARTH VADER, right hand to the MASTER 
          OF THE SITH.  His sinister face is partially obscured by his 
          flowing black robes and grotesque breath mask, which are in 
          sharp contrast to the fascist white armored suits of the 
          Imperial stormtroopers.  The troops instinctively back away 
          from the imposing warrior. 

          Deak Starkiller stands firm; a new look of resolve sweeps 
          across his tired face.  The smoky room is deathly quiet, ex- 
          cept for the occasional snapping and popping of burning 
          electrical circuits in the cockpit's sophisticated control 

          As the Black Knight enters the corridor, the few surviving 
          troopers scramble into the sub-hallway.  Lord Vader speaks 
          in an oddly filtered voice through his complex breathing 

                        At last we meet! 

                        With so much commotion, I 
                        expected your master, not 
                        merely a servant. 

          Vader is angered by this remark.  Taking a deep breath, he 
          raises his arms and every object that isn't bolted down is 
          picked up by an invisible force and hurled at the young 
          Jedi.  When the objects reach about two feet of Deak, they 
          are deflected by an invisible shield which surrounds him. 

                                  DEAK (CONT'D) 
                        The Bogan is strong with you; 
                        but not nearly strong enough. 
                        I'm afraid you -i have to use 
                        your weapon, if you're able! 

                        I am Lord Darth Vader, first 
                        Knight of the Sith, and right 
                        hand to His Eminence Prince 
                        Espaa Valorum, the Master of 
                        the Bogan.  You will not mock 
                        me, or my Master; for the Ashla 
                        is weak, and the FORCE OF OTHERS 
                        cannot save you now... 

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