This is my version of what would have happened if Qui-gon Jinn had killed Darth Maul instead of the other way around in The Phantom Menace.
I always write late at night, around two in the morning, so anything demented in these stories is a result of the day's actions. Sorry 'bout that. Things can get a little crazy in some of my other storys.
This is my first Star Wars fic. CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM, people! I need it! I've only seen TPM and AOTC, I'm still trying to find the classic trilogy. I haven't read any of the books yet, either. So, anything that's incorrect, like names for what not, sorry 'bout that. I'm still learning. Correct me, please!
Things in this story will get started rather quickly, sorry about the lack of detail and emotion to this first part. There's some in the second and it'll get better, or at least I should think it will.
Any title suggestions for this are welcome. Post them in a review, if you don't mind. ^_^ I'm really bad at titles, so... any help would be appreciated.
All characters are work of George Lucas except those that are work of Lissa M. Rose (me), aka The Scribbler. Yada yada yada. Lucas is god.
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Loralei Trelwar sighed softly in exasperation, running a pale hand through her long hair. Suddenly there was a knock on the door.
"Loralei, you need to hurry... we'll be leaving soon." Her mother. Loralei made a face and stood up from her seat on her bed, crossed the room in three long strides, and opened the door.
"Mother! I wish you wouldn't bother me like that. I don't know what to do with my hair. Besides, if you hadn't accepted this invitation, we wouldn't be going to this stupid parade in the first plae..."
"Loralei, our planet was almost destroyed by droids. Everyone got an invitation from Queen Amidala, Chancellor Valorum, and Boss Nass, and we're going to the celebration." Gwendolyn Trelwar said firmly, entering Loralei's room in a huff. She grabbed her daughter's arm and steered her toward the bed, where the pale girl sat down, glowering, as her mother braided and pinned up her hair hastily.
"There, now." Gwendolyn stepped back and eyed her daughter briefly, before nodding. "You'll do. Come, we'll walk to the parade together." The Trelwar residence was only a stone's through from the palace.
Loralei nodded, knowing it was useless to argue or protest, and silently followed her mother from the room, down the hall, and outside, where the steady buzz of the crowd gathered around the palace steps was almost deafening.
"I'm going to go find your father. You run along with your friends. We'll not expect you home until late, alright?" Loralei's mother said.
"Alright, alright... see you." Loralei turned and started off into the crowd hesitantly. Her mother's call of 'Be careful!' was lost in the din as she submerged herself totally within the blustering mob of people.
She wandered aimlessly for a while, disinterested in whatever all the people were cheering about. All she cared about now was getting away from it all. As soon as she suspected her mother couldn't see her, she slipped out of the crowd and made her way to an empty sidestreet, climbing the stairs at the end of it that led to the roof. She often sat on the roof of this building, and nobody had noticed before. She was delighted to find a place away from the hustle and bustle below. Grinning, she sat down on the edge, idly glancing down at the columns of Gungans.
You can't blame them, she told herself, their planent... our planet... was almost taken over by the Trade Federation. Loralei wasn't used to saying she was from Naboo, yet. Her home was on Coruscant, in an highrise apartment (a/n: do they even have those? *confused about Coruscant* I'm taking a blind stab at it. No more a/ns, I promise.), away from everything. She'd rarely left the building.
The redhead sighed softly, watching the parade in throughtful silence. She was about to get up and explore the other roofs when an arm was thrown around her waist and a hand clapped over her mouth.
A man, behind her. She froze, not knowing if he had a weapon or not, not knowing what to do.
The hand dropped from her mouth for a split second, and when he rose again it was clutching a blaster. Her eyes widened as the weapon was pointed toward her head.
"Scream, and I'll shoot you." The voice came from behind her right ear - she could feel his breath on her neck, and a chill ran down her spine.
"Now, what's a pretty girl like you doing away from all the fun? Shouldn't you be down there watching the parade?" He was mocking her, and she knew it, but forced herself not to get angry. It wouldn't help, she knew.
"I got tired of everyone pushing me around." She said simply. "And what do you want with me?"
The man grabbed her arm and swung her around so she faced him, pointing the blaster directly at her forehead. He was tall and lean, but not thin. He can't be more than thirty, she decided. He had dirty blond hair and sharp grey eyes, and he was grinning widely at her.
"You're dressed pretty well; I'd say your family will pay a handsome amount of credits for your safe return."