TITLE CARD: A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....
A vast sea of stars serves as the main backdrop for the main title, followed by a roll up, which crawls up into infinity.
STAR WARS
THE NEW DAWN
Cast into war, the inefficient Galactic Republic is no more. In its place now stands the Galactic Empire, a more formidable power for a less certain time.
Yet nefarious forces continue to plague the Galaxy. The MANDALORIAN DEATH WATCH — a fanatical branch of the enemy defeated in the First Clone War — has been orchestrating raids all along the Outer Rim.
In the wake of these attacks, the Jedi of Coruscant have assigned one of their knights to investigate and uncover the underlying plan of the Mandalorians....
PAN UP
To reveal the underside of the water planet designated Arkania Colony 382, its oceans alive with a preternatural cyan glow.
Suddenly the
Radiant VII — a
Consular-class cruiser — comes streaming past at high velocity, its trajectory taking it beneath the hulking blue ocean planet. Behind it, hot on its heels, is a pair of
Jehavey'ir-type assault ships. The twin ships fire upon the smaller Imperial craft, unleashing a torrent of intense orange turbolaserfire. The
Radiant VII reciprocates, firing green turbolaser beams at the Mandalorians.
INT.
RADIANT VII/COCKPIT
CAPTAIN MAOI MADAKOR and LIEUTENANT ANTIDAR WILLIAMS, the two crew members of the
Radiant VII currently manning the cockpit, struggle to simultaneously fend off the attacking assault ships while trying to coax more speed from the small ship's engines.
CAPT. MADAKOR: I can feel them breathing up my skirt, Lieutenant. Can't you coax more speed from the engines?
LT. WILLIAMS: Sublights are burning at maximum, Captain. Had I time, I could bypass the safety protocols, give us a boost ...
CAPT. MADAKOR: (sighs) But time's a commodity we're running short on. (beat) How long 'til we can make the jump to lhyt-speed?
LT. WILLIAMS: The navicomp will have the coordinates in five minutes.
EXT. SPACE — AC-382
The
Radiant VII's turbolaserfire strikes each of the assault ships, but each blast is effortlessly repelled by the larger crafts' deflector shields without leaving the slightest damage. Moving in like foreboding birds of prey, the Mandalorian ships unleash salvoes of orange turbolaserfire upon the space cruiser. The energized beams hit the cruiser's engines, obliterating one of the engines completely while instantly crippling the other.
INT.
RADIANT VII/COCKPIT
The
Radiant VII rattles violently, throwing the captain and the lieutenant forward in their seats.
INT.
RADIANT VII/SALON POD
The interior of the salon pod is spacious, furnished with glamorous accoutrements. Inhabiting the pod, standing at the far end, is a tall NEAR-HUMAN WOMAN in voluminous crimson robes, SIX HUMAN WOMEN in close-fitting black uniforms, and a BLUE ASTROMECH 'DROID. Though each of the six black-garbed women are attractive in their own right, the beauty of the near-Human woman — with her long green-white hair, glittering porcelain-white skin, and radiant green-gold eyes — puts theirs to complete shame.
When the reverberations of the blast hits the pod, both the Human women and the 'droid rock on their foundations, threatening to topple over. The unearthly beautiful woman in red, however, her eyes closed and her hands clasped tight around the chain of a crystal medallion in prayer, remains perfectly still, unaffected by the turbulent vibrations.
EXT. SPACE —
RADIANT VII
With the
Radiant VII dead in the water, one of the assault ships easily slides up alongside the star cruiser. Like an insectile proboscis, a mechanized airlock extends out from the assault ship and clamps down on the outer hull of the cruiser.
INT.
RADIANT VII/SALON POD
Hearing the groans and feeling the shudders of the ship as it is forcibly joined with the assault ship, the Human women look up towards the ceiling of the pod, gazing about as if in search of the source of the invading phenomena.
The near-Human woman — the beautiful priestess — brings her prayer to a close, securing the medallion around her neck.
PRIESTESS: (in Seboutrexi, subtitled) It's beginning....
One of the six Human women — a handsome woman with broad shoulders — takes a step away from her compatriots, approaching the priestess. This woman is ZIYAL D'UKAT, a Mistryl Shadow Guard and the team leader of the other five black-garbed women.
ZIYAL D’UKAT: (subtitled) We can't save you from the Mandalorians. There are only six of us against their entire crew.
PRIESTESS: (subtitled) You've done what you can, Ziyal D'ukat. Consider our bargain complete.
ZIYAL D’UKAT: (subtitled) I don't want to see you taken by them. You should escape while there's still time.
PRIESTESS: (faces D'ukat; subtitled) Where would I go? (waves arm to the planet sitting out beyond the pod's viewport) The planet out there is a world of empty oceans and we're light-years away from any inhabited system. (beat) There is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide.
ZIYAL D’UKAT: (subtitled) You've never been a prisoner of Mandalorians — I
have. I know from first-hand experience how they
treat captives in their custody. (beat) Please, reconsider.
PRIESTESS: (rests hand atop astromech; subtitled) This is the only course of action left open to me.
Realizing that she cannot deter the priestess from her decision, the Shadow Guard chooses to end the conversation.
PRIESTESS: (subtitled) Artoo, begin recording....
INT.
RADIANT VII/COCKPIT
Madakor and Williams, having regained their senses, are busy undoing the restraints of their seats when a loud HISSING sound begins issuing through the sealed doors leading into the cockpit.
CAPT. MADAKOR: (twists seat around; stands up) They're coming through! Get ready.
Before she can finish her order, the cockpit doors disappear in a terrific explosion, the bulkheads of the cockpit lighting up with
bright yellow light and the air filling with acrid black smoke. As the two officers clear their blasters from their holsters, DOZENS
OF MANDALORIAN WARRIORS — each clad in the silver-and-blue armour of the Death Watch — come pouring in, cutting them down instantly with a hail of yellow blasterfire.
INT.
RADIANT VII/UPPER DECK
Dropping in through a hole cut in the hull above, dozens upon dozens of Mandalorian Death Watchmen invade the small cruiser. Spreading out into all available areas of the ship, they cut down all crew members they come across with their blasters.
INT.
RADIANT VII/'DROID HOLD
Inside the small, dark, cramped 'droid hold, a number of 'droids lay strewn about its confines, all either deactivated or in low-power modes. As the door to the hold slides open, casting bright light into its interior, one of these 'droids — a GOLDEN PROTOCOL 'DROID — immediately comes to life.
C-3PO: (erratic) Oh, my! Oh, goodness!
The golden 'droid rises to his feet, turning towards the humanoid silhouette filling the open doorway.
C-3PO: Oh, dear me — it isn't Donic Day already, is it?
The owner of the silhouette steps inside; it is a Death Watchman, a blaster rifle in his hands.
C-3PO: No, wait —!
The Mandalorian levels his blaster at Threepio and presses the trigger. A bolt of yellow plasma lances out, hits the 'droid's
shoulder plating, then ricochets back, hitting the Mandalorian square in the face and knocking him back and off his feet.
Cautious, Threepio takes a few steps toward the fallen warrior. Looking him over, he comes to the conclusion that the Mandalorian is stone dead.
C-3PO: This is no life for a protocol 'droid. I deserve
far better than this.
Stepping past the dead Mandalorian, Threepio leaves the 'droid hold for the corridor beyond, eyes on the lookout for more Mandalorians.
INT.
RADIANT VII/SALON POD
The priestess stands before Artoo, reciting her message.
Loud BANGS suddenly begin reverberating through the pod doors. The Mistryl Shadow Guards turn toward the source of the sounds, growing tense with anticipation as they unsheathe their vibroswords.
ZIYAL D’UKAT: (to priestess; subtitled) They're coming through!
Finishing her message, the priestess places a hand on Artoo and he stops recording.
With a terrible SQUEAL of grinding metal, the doors of the salon pod are forced open. As MANDALORIAN KNIGHTS step through, it is apparent that they differ in some respect to the other Death Watchmen aboard the ship; unlike their brethren, they wear blue-and-gray robes over their armour and wield wicked vibroswords in place of blasters.
Leaping forward, the six Mistryls engage the Mandalorian Knights, the vibrating blades of their technological swords clashing against those of the helmeted warriors. One of the Mistryls gains immediate advantage over her Mandalorian sparring partner, knocking the blade of his vibrosword away and delivering a blow which cuts through his neck and the chain of a platinum medallion surrounding it, nearly decapitating the warrior. Her victory is short lived, however, as another knight manages to evade her defenses and thrusts the point of his sword into her side, fatally running her through.
Turning away from Artoo, the priestess can do nothing but look on with horror as the Mandalorian Knights quickly begin overwhelming the formidable Shadow Guards, cutting them down with full brutality and no mercy.
INT.
RADIANT VII/CORRIDOR
C-3PO makes his way along the corridor, eyeing the twisted bodies of the slaughtered crew members strewn about.
INT.
RADIANT VII/SALON POD
The priestess sits against the far bulkhead of the pod, trembling in a ball under the transparisteel viewport, weeping with fear and disgust as Artoo stands beside her, trying to provide consolation the best he can. Ten Mandalorian Knights stand inside the pod, the bloody corpses of the Mistryl women and their own slain underfoot, their hidden eyes focused on the beautiful priestess cowering before them.
MANDALORIAN AIDE: (in Mando'a, subtitled) The Force Hound approaches!
Snapping to attention, the knights spread out, clearing the way for TWO MORE MANDALORIANS as they step inside the pod. While the first Mandalorian to enter is just another average blue-and-gray robed Mandalorian Knight, the SECOND is distinguished by the unique aquamarine robe he wears over his armour along with the trident symbol emblazoned over the visor of his helmet. He regards first the other Mandalorians then the dead before walking over to the priestess.
PRIESTESS: (looks up at Mandalorian, face twisted with hatred) Butcher!
Murderer!
FORCE HOUND: I'm sorry, but it was an unfortunate necessity.
PRIESTESS: (enraged) This was a
necessity‽ (beat) They were civilian crew members; they didn't have a chance against you! You could have spared them!
FORCE HOUND: I know you cannot understand. Someday, perhaps, you will. (offers her his hand) It is time to come with us.
Her face still contorted with hate, the priestess seizes the Mandalorian's hand in a hard grip. Fearing an attack, the other knights ready their weapons.
FORCE HOUND: (to other Mandalorians; in Mando'a, subtitled) Sheathe your blades. She won't harm me.
As the Force Hound pulls the priestess to her feet, Threepio steps into the open doorway.
C-3PO: (in Seboutrexi) Mistress, I —
Alerted to his presence, the Mandalorians spin around to face him.
C-3PO: Perhaps this isn't —
Before the golden 'droid can finish his statement, one of the knights lunges forward, ramming the blade of his vibrosword through Threepio's mechanical torso. Pulling the protocol 'droid in through the doorway, the Mandalorian Knight twists the blade then forces it upward, cutting out and through Threepio's shoulder. Uttering a senseless litany made of a combination of astromech mechanical language and Huttese, See-Threepio collapses to the deck, twitching violently as his damages flash with electricity.
FORCE HOUND: (annoyed; in Mando'a, subtitled) It was a protocol 'droid.
Without any further words, the Force Hound steps forward, dragging the priestess behind him as he leaves for the open doorway. As he steps out, the other Mandalorian Knights gather their dead then follow after him, leaving Artoo alone with the bodies of the slain Mistryls and the damaged form of See-Threepio.
EXT. SPACE — AC-382
Disengaging and retracting its extendible airlock, the Mandalorian assault ship releases the
Radiant VII. As the small
Consular-class cruiser drifts away, the engines both of the assault ship and its counterpart blaze to life and they rocket forward, casting their large shadows upon the derelict ship as they cruise over it. Before them, waiting in the distance like a stern parent, is the looming form of a
Lictor-class dungeon ship.
Passing beyond the
Radiant VII, a turbolaser cannon on one of the
Jehavey'irs comes alive and swivels into position, opening fire upon the small ship. A single turbolaser blast hits the cruiser, blowing it apart into three separate pieces.
After the assault ships have rendezvoused with the dungeon ship and together made the jump into hyperspace, the remains of the
Radiant VII begin falling toward AC-382. Entering the atmosphere, the fragments start to glow with intense white hot heat.
EXT. AC-382 — TERRAFORMING STATION C31 — NIGHT
A terraforming station rises up from the black ocean of the near-empty water planet. Large and conical in shape — with various red, orange, and white light fixtures aglow upon its surface — the station looks like an immense artificial island.
INT. TERRAFORMING STATION C31/GAME ROOM — NIGHT
Inside the small, cramped, sparsely-stocked, dim-lit game room, TWO INDIVIDUALS sit around a dejarik table. With one diminutive and the other a behemoth, they are clearly unrelated by blood. Nevertheless, their physical characteristics bear witness to the fact that they are both the results of hideous genetic experimentations. The tall one — MAC 73239 — is a Human/Wookiee hybrid, his entire body save for his fingers, chest, and upper face covered in thick black-brown fur, while the short one — NOR 747 — is a
Chadra-Fan/
Lannik hybrid, with the body of the former but the long, downturned ears of the latter. Both are currently engrossed with the holographic creatures that are playing across the illuminated game board.
As a holographic creature resembling three conjoined trees with six tentacles entangles a creature which resembles a legless spider with bat wings and pulls it down to its death, Nor begins hooting and hollering with joy, apparently the winner in this game. Mac, for his part, nonchalantly pours his mug of iridescent black-green ale on the dejarik board, causing the board to explode in a shower of sparks and smoke.
MAC 73239: Cheating bastard.
NOR 747:
Hey!
INT. TERRAFORMING STATION C31/SURVEILLANCE ROOM — NIGHT
Inside the small, cramped, sparsely-stocked, dim-lit surveillance room, four beings — BLAI 7, GAR 79, CLA 75, and CHI 537 — sit before large banks of computer monitors, all of which display readings for various equipment in operation aboard the station or monitor various locations in and outside of the station itself. Like Mac and Nor, these four creatures are the results of renegade scientists' attempts to create hybrids between genetically unrelated species through gene splicing experiments.
The four beings, consumed with boredom, almost miss the bright streak of light which flashes across one of the monitors, coursing down from the black sky outside to splash down in the dark waters right outside the station.
GAR 79: Hey, what was that‽
CHI 537: What was what?
GAR 79: That thing that flashed across Screen #68!
CHI 537: I didn't see a blessed thing. Play it back.
Punching a command into his keyboard, Gar rewinds and replays the footage of the flaming trail hitting the black water.
BLAI 7: It's got heavy metal content. It could be a large meteorite.
CLA 75: Readings are all wrong for it to be a natural meteorite. It's clearly of artificial origin.
GAR 79: (sighs) Great — space junk. With our luck, it'll be some Type 0 radioactive bleeder. (to BLAI 7) Get Mac and Nor on it right away.
Without a word, Blai acknowledges with a single nod of his misshapen secondary head.
INT. TERRAFORMING STATION C31/GAME ROOM — NIGHT
Still caught up in their argument over the botched dejarik game, Mac and Nor fail to notice when BENN 4647 — a bizarre looking
Devaronian/Twi'lek hybrid with mottled blue-and-bronze skin — opens the door and enters the murky room.
BENN 4647: (coughs into hand) Ahem....
Noticing Benn for the first time, Nor and Mac stop their riotous bickering and turn toward him.
BENN 4647: (cont'd) You're needed outside. Space junk 45.8 degrees off the starboard side of the sixteenth pylon.
NOR 747: Can't this wait? We're in a very important discussion right now!
BENN 4647: (shrugs) Do you want a repeat of what happened sixteen months ago with the ninth configurator?
Realizing that they have an important job to do and that it would be unwise to postpone doing it, the two companions sigh dejectedly and saunter off past the blue-bronze hybrid and out of the game room to attend to their duty.
EXT. OCEAN — NIGHT
A small submersible cuts through the inky black depths of AC-382's ocean waters. Looking like a large, gray eye sporting a pair of oversized crab-like claws, it is a comical sight to behold.
INT. SUBMERSIBLE/COCKPIT — NIGHT
MAC 73239: (into headset) We're approaching the junk.
EXT. OCEAN — NIGHT
As the submersible moves closer to its destination, a thick mechanical pole reaching up from the unseen ocean depths below and stretching to the unseen surface above fades into existence. There, wedged tight between the main body of the pole and a projected array of sensory filaments, is the large piece of space junk — the only large fragment of the
Radiant VII — to survive its fall from the heavens to this planet of unending ocean.
INT. SUBMERSIBLE/COCKPIT — NIGHT
NOR 747: (to MAC 73239) What do you think it is?
MAC 73239: Beats me. Whatever it was, it's Hutt pizza now. (into headset) I'm readying the arms. It's in there, but it should slide out easy enough with a little TLC.
EXT. OCEAN PYLON 16 — NIGHT
The arms of the submersible come to life. Moving forward, they clamp onto projections on the fragment's surface. Once the grip is secure, the arms begin retracting. As they do, though, the fragment refuses to come with them, stubbornly glued in place between the main body of the pylon and the sensory filaments.
INT. SUBMERSIBLE/COCKPIT — NIGHT
MAC 73239: (licks lips) Sonuvablaster doesn't want to come loose.
NOR 747: (enters command into control panel) Powering up reserves.
EXT. OCEAN — PYLON 16 — NIGHT
With the extra juice flowing through its engines, the submersible manages to work the ship fragment out of its prison of metal. Once it's freed, though, the weight of the thing begins to pull the smaller form of the submersible down with it toward the ocean floor far below.
INT. SUBMERSIBLE/COCKPIT — NIGHT
MAC 73239: (panicked) More power, Nor! Hurry up! The backup arms, too!
C'mon! C'mon!
EXT. OCEAN — PYLON 16 — NIGHT
Concealed hatches on either side of the submersible slide open and a pair of second arms — smaller and with somewhat more delicate instrumentation than that of their larger cousins — slide out. Clamping down on the fragment along with their larger twins, the backup arms provide enough leverage for the submersible to overpower the weight of the fragment and stop the descent to the dark depths below.
INT. SUBMERSIBLE/COCKPIT — NIGHT
MAC 73239: (sighs) I was getting worried there.
NOR 747: The damned thing's pretty heavy. Don't you think we should let the sucker sink and call it a day?
MAC 73239: And take the chance that it'll get tangled back up in the pylon again, deeper down? Hell with that! I'm bringing it topside where it can be disposed of properly!
EXT. OCEAN — PYLON 16 — NIGHT
With the ship's fragment balanced in its four arms like the Known Galaxy's strangest baby, the submersible begins making the slow ascent back to the surface.
EXT. TERRAFORMING STATION C31/SOUTH DOCK — NIGHT
The submersible and fragment now topside and secure, Mac and Nor climb up out of the hatch, climbing the rails which take them up onto the dock where other members of their crew are waiting to greet them. FU 247 — a large, burly hybrid between a Human and some unidentifiable cetaceous being — walks up to the two while six of her men run up to examine the fragment now docked with the submersible.
FU 247: What is that thing?
MAC 73239: That's up to you to find out and us not to give a damn about.
FU 247's crew goes to work cutting a hole in the side of the fragment as Mac and Nor disinterestedly leave to find a dry dejarik board. NORWE 4426 — an ugly, gaunt
Pau'an/
Zabrak hybrid — rubs his boney chin in hard thought as he examines the pitted surface of the fragment.
NORWE 4426: It looks like a near-intact segment of a
Consular-class cruiser — the salon pod itself, to be precise.
FU 247: Good. Maybe there's something of value intact inside.
After a few moments the crew finishes cutting the hole through. WIN 3697 — a strangely attractive
Amani/
Ithorian hybrid — peers inside. Within the dark confines of the pod, Artoo's lights come to life, causing her to reer backward with startlement. Rocking back and forth in the shadow, the short astromech unit begins BLORTING and WARBLING frantically.
WIN 3697: (faces Fu) Fu, I don't know if it's valuable or not, but there's something inside I think you should take a look at....
