The Dragon in the Dying Star

𝐍𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away . . . .

Episode I

THE PHANTOM MENACE

The small Republic space cruiser, its red color the symbol of ambassadorial neutrality, knifed through starry blackness toward the emerald bright planet of Naboo and the cluster of Trade Federation fleet ships that encircled it.

The ships were huge, blocky fortresses, tubular in shape, split at one end and encircling an orb that sheltered the bridge, communications center, and hyperdrive. Armaments bristled from every port and bay, and Trade Federation fighters circled the big beasts like gnats. The more traditionally shaped Republic cruiser, with its tri-engines, flat body, and squared-off cockpit, looked insignificant in the shadow of the Trade Federation battleships, but it continued toward them, undeterred.

The cruiser's captain and copilot sat side by side at the forward console, hands moving swiftly over the controls as they steered closer to the ship with the Trade Federation viceroy insignia emblazoned on its bridge. There was a nervous energy to their movements that was unmistakable. From time to time, they would glance uneasily at each other - and over their shoulders at the two figures who stood in the shadows behind.

On the viewscreen in front of them, captured from his position on the bridge of the battleship toward which they were headed, was Trade Federation Viceroy Nute Gunray, his reddish orange eyes staring out at them expectantly. The Neimoidian wore his perpetually sour expression, mouth downturned, bony brow emphasizing his discontent. His green-gray skin reflected the ambient lighting of the ship, all pale and cold in contrast to his dark robes, collar, and tricornered headdress.

A serene, distinctly female voice broke the silence of the cockpit. "Captain."

The cruiser captain turned slightly in her seat to acknowledge the figure concealed in the shadows behind her. "Yes, ma'am?"

The shorter of the two figures was a woman. The dark brown of her hood allowed only the pink of her lips, the soft slope of her nose, and the sharp curve of her jaw to show, leaving alluring eyes cloaked in shadow. A few, long tresses of midnight black hair tumbled down from the spaces of her hood, leaving much yet to be revealed. 

"Tell them we wish to board at once." The voice was captivating and smooth, but the measure of resolution it contained was unmistakable.

"Yes, ma'am," the captain said, giving the copilot a covert glance, which the copilot returned. The captain faced Nute Gunray on the screen. "With all due respect, Viceroy, the ambassadors for the supreme chancellor have requested that they be allowed to board immediately."

The Neimoidian nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, Captain, of course. We would be happy to receive the ambassadors at their convenience. Happy to, Captain."

The screen went dark. The captain hesitated, glancing back at the figure behind her. "Ambassador?"

"Proceed, Captain."

The Jedi watched silently as the Trade Federation battleship loomed before them, filling the viewport with its gleaming bulk. The cloaked woman's sharp blue eyes fixed on the battleship as if to see what waited within.

The Republic's taxation of the trade routes between the star systems had been in dispute since its inception, but until now all the Trade Federation had done in response was to complain. The blockade of Naboo was the first act of outright defiance, and while the Federation was a powerful body, equipped with its own battle fleet and army of droids, its action here was atypical. The Neimoidians were entrepreneurs, not fighters. They lacked the backbone necessary to undertake a challenge to the Republic. Somehow they had found that backbone.