GM:
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The interior of a Rebel starship, speeding through hyperspace. In the cockpit
are the Wookiee, Ra-jobu, and his two human companions: Chev Saxon and
Alexis. As the scene opens, Chev is monitoring the ship's progress from the
co-pilot's position. Alexis sits slumped in the pilot's seat, her arms crossed
over her chest in anger. Ra looks on from behind them.
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ALEXIS:
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(coldly) I don't like this. There's no reason for us to plot a course right
through the middle of a nebula. It's a risk we just don't have to take.
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CHEV:
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(exasperated) I said it before and I'll say it again: there's no risk. The charts
all say the Marcellus Nebula is just interstellar gas, and nothing else. There's
absolutely nothing to worry about.
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ALEXIS:
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(unconvinced) Huh!
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GM:
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A few moments of brooding silence ensue, the Chev continues…
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CHEV:
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Look, we don't have much choice. This route takes twelve hours off our
transit time. That means we'll get to Sumitra base almost three hours before
we're supposed to report to Admiral Ackbar, instead of nine hours too late.
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RA:
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That's reason enough for me. Everybody says the Admiral's a real stickler for
discipline. I'd rather not be late.
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ALEXIS:
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Why does the Admiral want us there so fast anyway?
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RA:
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The orders didn't say. Why don't you ask him when we see him.
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ALEXIS:
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No thanks.
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CHEV:
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The charts say it's fine. I'll say it again: there's absolutely nothing…
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GM:
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Suddenly, an alarm begins screaming in your ears as several indicator lights on the
panel in front of you flash red. You all feel the disconcerting internal lurch that
accompanies a rapid deceleration to sublight speed.
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ALEXIS:
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Cut off that alarm! What the hell happened?
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CHEV:
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Hyperdrive cut-out. The computer detected a significant mass up ahead and
kicked us out of hyperspace before we could plow into it. (Chev pauses.)
I've got a bad feeling about this.
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(Ra and Alexis look at Chev disgustedly.)
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CHEV:
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(defensively) Hey, somebody had to say it. Ra, use the sensors and see if you can
get a fix on whatever caused the navi-computer to abort the program.
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RA:
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Uhhh, I don't think that'll be necessary…(Ra points out the viewport.)
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GM:
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Instead of the featureless depths of space that you expect, the viewport is
filled with a white-and-gray streaked globe. There's a world below you,
orbiting a small yellow star, and your charts say that neither should exist.
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ALEXIS:
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So what's that, Mr. "just interstellar gas"?
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CHEV:
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It's not my fault! That's just what the charts said.
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RA:
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Well, we've still got this meeting to get to, so let's just log this and get back into
hyperspace.
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CHEV:
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You're right. Let's get out of here. I'll calculate a new set of…
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GM:
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You are all thrown hard against the seat restraints as the ship suddenly jolts and
rings like a gong. Several alarms begin sounding at once, and the computer is
flashing dire warning messages. The console in front of you is a sea of red
indicator lights. The planet outside the viewport seems to tilt crazily and then
steadily begin getting larger.
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ALEXIS:
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What the hell was that?
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CHEV:
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I don't know! All I know is that we're going down…fast!
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RA:
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Why always me? Why always us? How come nothing ever goes smoothly?
Here we are, on our way to an important meeting, when BAM! It's all over, just
like that! You said there was nothing to worry about!
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CHEV:
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It's' not my fault! It's just not my fault! The charts were clear -
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ALEXIS:
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Argue about it later! If there is a later. We're hitting the atmosphere
any second. What are we gonna do?
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