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EXT. ALLEY
The door squeaks shut, and with the thunder of more taser blasts from the street following them, the rivetheads race deeper
into the interior of the building.
INT. IMPERIAL STAR LIMO
On a laptop viewscreen, the thermal traces of the two rivetheads can be followed as they move within the building.
CHAUFFEUR: There go two more.
CAPTAIN: Hold your fire. They're not worth it. We can't risk damage to property, not yet.
INT. BUILDING
Aryoo and Thirteenpio look out at the receding Imperial Humvee from a cracked and dirty ground floor window. Dust motes rotate
and dance in the sunlight.
THIRTEENPIO: That's funny, the first shot doesn't look as bad from out here.
Aryoo tinkles at Thirteenpio reassuringly in response.
THIRTEENPIO: Are you sure this building's safe?
EXT. TATOOME - TANKERHEAD NEIGHBOURHOOD - GAS STATION – DAY
Heat waves radiate from the surrounding dirty and rust-stained buildings. Lance drives his '68 Camaro through the dusty empty
street of this balkanized neighbourhood. An old woman runs to get out of the way of the speeding vehicle, shaking her fist
at Lance as he screeches past.
OLD WOMAN: I've told you kids to slow down!
Lance pulls up behind a couple of antiquated pumps at an old service station that is all but covered by rust and metal fatigue.
Shattered remains of the old-time gas globes stick up jaggedly from their tops.
INT. GAS STATION - DAY
Lance bursts into the service station, waking The Trixer, a rugged mechanic and Camisole, a sexy, disheveled girl who has
been asleep in his lap. They grumble as he races through the office, yelling wildly.
TRIXER: Did I hear a young noise blast through here?
CAMISOLE: It was just Wormser on another rampage.
Lance bounces into a small room behind the office where Dirk and Lindy, two tough boys about the same age as Lance, are playing
foosball with Wiggs, a burly, handsome boy a few years older than the rest. His flashy downtown attire is a sharp contrast
to the jeans and t-shirts of the neighbourhood boys. The old rivethead repairs some equipment in the background.
LANCE: Shape it up you guys!.....Wiggs?
Lance's surprise at the appearance of Wiggs gives way to great joy and emotion. They give each other five and a chest-bounce.
LANCE: I didn't know you were back! When did you get in?
WIGGS: Just now. I wanted to surprise you, butt face. I thought you'd be here....certainly didn't expect you to be out
working. (laughs)
LANCE: College hasn't changed you much....but you're back so soon? Hey, what happened, didn't you get a job, yet?
Wiggs has an air of cool that seems slightly phony.
WIGGS: Of course I did. Signed with Rand Electric last week. Mailroom clerk Wiggs Darklighter at your service....(he salutes)....I
just came back to say goodbye to all you unfortunate unemployed simpletons.
Everyone laughs. The dazzling spectacle of his dashing friend is almost too much for Lance, but suddenly he snaps out of
it.
LANCE: I almost forgot. There's a battle going on! Right here in our neighbourhood. Come and look!
DIRK: Not again! Forget it.
EXT. TATOOME - TANKERHEAD - NEIGHBOURHOOD - GAS STATION – DAY
The group stumbles out into the stifling city sun. Camisole and The Trixer complain and are forced to shade their eyes. Luke
has his binoculars out scanning far down the streets.
LANCE: There they are!
Wiggs takes the binoculars from Lance as the others strain to see something with the naked eye. Through the binoculars Wiggs
sees two small dark specks.
WIGGS: That's no battle, butt face....they're just sitting there! Probably a break-down or a flat tire.
LANCE: But there was a lot of firing earlier...
Camisole grabs the binoculars away banging them against the building in the process. Lance grabs them.
LANCE: Hey, easy with those....
CAMISOLE: Don't worry about it, Wormser.
The Trixer gives Lance a hard look and the young neighbourhood boy
shrugs his shoulders in resignation.
TRIXER: I keep telling you, the Rebellion is a long way from here. I doubt if the Empire would even fight to keep this neighbourhood.
Believe me Lance, this block is a big hunk of nothing...
Lance agrees, although it's obvious he isn't sure why. The group stumbles back into the gas station, grumbling about Lance's
ineptitude.
INT. REBEL BLOCKADE RUNNER
Princess Leiza is led across the street by a squad of armored gothtroopers. Her hands are bound and she is brutally shoved
when she is unable to keep up with the briskly marching troops. They stop in the smoky street as Dark Trader emerges from
the limo. The sinister Dark Lord stares hard at the frail young senator, but she doesn't move.
LEIZA: Lord Trader, I should have known. Only you could be so bold. The Imperial Senate will not sit still for this, when
they hear you've
attacked a diplomatic...
TRADER: Don't play games with me, Your Highness. You weren't on any mercy mission this time. You passed directly through
a restricted
neighbourhood. Several calls were mad to this vehicle by Rebel spies.
I want to know what happened to the plans they sent you.
LEIZA: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm a member of the Imperial Senate on a diplomatic mission to the Aldergoths...
TRADER: You're a part of the Rebel Alliance....and a traitor. Take her away!
Leiza is bundled up and shoved into the back of the Humvee. An Imperial Commander turns to Trader.
COMMANDER: Holding her is dangerous. If word of this gets out, it could generate sympathy for the Rebellion in the senate.
TRADER: I have traced the Rebel spies to her. Now she is my only link
to find their secret base!
COMMANDER: She'll die before she'll tell you anything.
TRADER: Leave that to me. Send a distress call and then inform the senate that all aboard were killed!
Another Imperial Officer approaches Trader and the Commander. He stops and snaps to attention.
SECOND OFFICER: Lord Trader, the Mourning Star plans are not aboard this vehicle! And no cell phone calls were made. We
think two rebel rivetheads are missing, but nobody saw them either in the van or leave this area.
Vader turns to the Commander.
TRADER: She must have hidden the plans with one of those rivetheads. Send a detachment out to retrieve them. See to it
personally, Commander. There'll be no one to stop us this time.
COMMANDER: Yes, sir.
EXT. CITY STREETS
The Imperial Star Limo rumbles over the surface streets of Tatoome.
EXT. TATOOME - DESERTED AND CONDEMNED INDUSTRIAL PARK
Weyland Industrial Park, where the rugged rows of warehouses meet foreboding corporate desolation. The two helpless rivetheads
kick up clouds of trash as they leave the old building and clumsily work their way across the deserted parking lots. The
building in the distance is fore-shortened against the gleaming horizon of skyscrapers.
THIRTEENPIO: How did I get into this mess? I really don't know how. I seem to be made to suffer. It's my lot in life.
Aryoo answers with light tinkling sounds.
THIRTEENPIO: I've got to rest before I fall apart. My legs are killing me.
Aryoo continues to respond with tinkling sounds.
THIRTEENPIO: What a godawful place this is.
Suddenly Aryoo clanks, makes a sharp right turn and starts off in the direction of the flat line of an abandoned stripmall.
Thirteenpio stops and yells at him.
THIRTEENPIO: Where are you going?
A stream of clanking, clinking, and tinkling pours forth from the small rivethead, his arms flailing around and his head jerking
wildly.
THIRTEENPIO: Well, I'm not going that way. It's much too freaky. This way creeps me out less.
Aryoo counters with a violent shake of his head.
THIRTEENPIO: What makes you think we can find help over there?
Aryoo continues to gesture with his arms.
THIRTEENPIO: Don't get technical with me.
Aryoo tinkles and clanks energetically.
THIRTEENPIO: What mission? What are you talking about? I've had just about enough of you! Go that way! You'll be lost
without me within a day, you nearsighted, over-punctured nuisance!
Thirteenpio gives the little rivethead a rude gesture and starts off across the vast acreage of the parking lots.
THIRTEENPIO: And don't let me catch you following me begging for help, because you won't get it.
Aryoo's reply is a rather rude clunk. He turns and trudges off in the direction of the stripmall.
THIRTEENPIO: No more adventures. Nope. Not for me. I'm not going that way. No way. No how. Not ever. I meant it.
Aryoo tinkles to himself as he makes his way toward the derelict store fronts.
EXT. TATOOME - ABANDONED PARKING LOT
Thirteenpio, hot and tired, struggles up over a grassy parking lot island: only to find more islands in the sea of asphalt,
which seems to go on for endless acrea. He looks back in the direction of the now distant stripmall.
THIRTEENPIO: That maladjusted little wad. This is all his fault! He tricked me into going this way, he's been trying to
get rid of me for ages. Hah! He's not going to do any better.....
In a huff of anger and frustration, Thirteenpio knocks dust from his jeans. His plight seems hopeless, when a glint of reflected
light in the distance reveals an object moving towards him.
THIRTEENPIO: Wait, what's that? A bus! I'm saved!
The rivethead in his pewter outfit waves frantically and yells at the approaching bus.
THIRTEENPIO: Over here! Help! Please, help!
EXT. TATOOME - TANKERHEAD NEIGHBOURHOOD - GAS STATION – DAY
Lance and Wiggs are leaning against the wall and drinking beer. Trixer and the others can be heard working inside.
LANCE: (Very animated)....so I put it neutral, shut down the afterburners and came in right behind Dirk's ass. I was so
close I
thought I was going to fry my transmission. As it was I busted up
the Mustang pretty bad. Uncle Paddy was pretty pissed. He grounded
me for the rest of the season. You should have been there....it was
fantastic.
WIGGS: You ought to take it a little easy Lance. You may be the hottest driver this side of Mor Presley, but those little
souped-up 'Stangs are dangerous. Keep it up, and one day, whammo, you're going to be nothing more than a wet spot on the
dawn side of a building wall.
LANCE: Look who's talking. Now that you've spent summers 'round those pro drivers, you're beginning to sound like my uncle.
You've gotten soft
at college, too....
WIGGS: I missed you butt munch.
LANCE: Well, things haven't been the same since you left, Wiggs. It's been so....boring.
Wiggs looks around then leans close to Lance.
WIGGS: Lance, I didn't come back just to say goodbye....I shouldn't tell you this, but you're the only one I can trust....and
if I don't come back, I want somebody to know.
Lance's eyes are wide with Wiggs' promise of a secret.
LANCE: What are you talking about?
WIGGS: I made some friends at college. (he whispers)....when we go to the clubs, we meet people. Instead of getting that
job....I'm going to join the Alliance.
Lance is speechless for a moment.
LANCE: Join the Rebellion?! You've got to be kidding me!
WIGGS: Shut up!
LANCE: What? How?
WIGGS: Quiet down will ya! You got a mouth bigger than Camisole's!
LANCE: I'm sorry. I'm quiet. (he whispers) Listen how quiet I am. You can barely hear me....
Wiggs shakes his head angrily, heaves a sigh, and then continues.
WIGGS: My friend has a friend who works at Clytemnestra's who might help us make contact.
LANCE: You're crazy! You could wander around forever trying to find them. There are a LOT of clubs in this city.
WIGGS: I know it's a long shot, but if I don't find them I'll do what I
can on my own....It's what we always talked about. Lance, I'm not going to wait for the Empire to co-opt me. The Rebellion
is spreading and I want to be on their side - the side I believe in.
LANCE: And I'm stuck out here...
WIGGS: I thought you were going to start college next term. You'll get your chance to get out of this dump.
LANCE: Not likely! I had to cancel my application. There has been a lot of unrest among the Strand People since you left....they've
even raided the some of the buildings in Tankerhead.
WIGGS: Your uncle could hold off a whole ward of Strand People with one Saturday Night Special.
LANCE: I know, but he's got enough parts and scrap cars in inventory now to make the place pay off. He needs me for just
one more summer. I can't leave him now.
WIGGS: I feel for you, Lance, you're going to have to learn between what seems important and what really IS important. What
good is all your uncle's work if it's taken over by the Empire?....You know they're starting to nationalize commerce in the
'burbs now....it won't be long before your uncle is merely a tenant, slaving for the greater glory of the Empire.
LANCE: It couldn't happen here. You said it yourself. The Empire won't bother with this neighbourhood.
WIGGS: Things keep changin'.
LANCE: I wish I was going....Are you going to be around long?
WIGGS: No, I'm leaving in the morning....
LANCE: Then I guess I won't see you.
WIGGS: Maybe someday....I'll keep a lookout.
LANCE: Well, I'll be at college next fall....after that who knows. I won't be shanghaied into the Imperial Services that's
for sure....Take care of yourself, you'll always be the best friend I've got. Dingleberry.
WIGGS: So long, spazz-mo'.
Wiggs turns away from his old friend and heads off down the broken sidewalk.
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