Disclaimer: See Part 1
*****
VIMES
Right then. Back to the matter at hand - who should we send to infiltrate the Star Destroyer and rescue Leonard?
RIDCULLY
Chewie and I have broken into Star Destroyers before.
Chewbacca grunts in agreement.
VIMES
I appreciate your piloting experience, but I'd rather you take someone with you.
RIDCULLY
Really? I'm touched by your concern, Vimesy.
VIMES
No, you're touched in the head if you think I'm sending someone like you alone to do this. If Leonard is as important for the Empire to keep as he is for us to get him away, then he'll be under heavy guard. This mission will require stealth - and you, Ridcully, have all the stealth of a band of inebriated dwarves.
Chewbacca hoots a correction.
RINCEWIND
[translating] Um, less than that.
RIDCULLY
Why you little--!
Rincewind spills over backwards in his chair to avoid Ridcully, who has lunged at him. The pratfall turns into a somersault, and Rincewind, now a red blur, rolls to his feet in a defensive pose [thanks to his Jedi reflexes]. Chewbacca, meanwhile, has grabbed Ridcully's shoulders and forced him down again, scolding him.
RIDCULLY
No, you *won't* need to sit on me. I'm fine. Really. *Yes* I'm sure!
Only then does Chewbacca sit down again. After a few beats, Rincewind sheepishly rights his chair again and sits down.
VIMES
If you two are done? Good. Now. We'll need at least one, probably two others who know a few thinks about stealthy extractions of a target under heavy guard.
VOICE
I might be able to help you with that.
After a few moments of alarmed searching around by those assembled, one of the marble statues decorating the hall lowers an arm holding a pair of scales [the arm had been outstretched above its head], causing the thin layer of white plaster or paint to crack and flake off, revealing fair skin beneath. Apparently this man has remained frozen in that pose since the beginning of the scene. His shoulder must be killing him.
VIMES
Who the hell are you?!
MAN
I do apologise for the subterfuge. Professional habit, don't you know.
[he continues brushing the plaster shell away. The statue he was masquerading as was naked to the waist, and therefore so is he]
My name is Chidder. I was a cardcarrying Guildsman, back when the Ankh- Morpork Guilds meant anything.
VIMES
[instantly on his guard] What Guild?
CHIDDER
Oh, isn't it obvious? By the way, you really need to improve your security around here. I might have killed any of you and made it look like an attack of appendicitis.
He shakes out his hair, which is a mass of golden ringlets. He looks like he might have been an angel in another lifetime, especially considering his current disguise.
LADY SYBIL
You're an Assassin?
CHIDDER
Was. I was an Assassin. I took the test, got the card, earned my dagger. But... [sighs] no Guild, no Assassins. Just psychopaths and murderers, really.
[he looks around and notices everyone looking at him like he may detonate at any moment]
[defensive] There's a difference!
VIMES
All right... who do you work for, then?
CHIDDER
Myself, mainly. Teppic and I became free agents after it hit the fan. Trust me - if we'd been hired by the Empire to kill you, you'd all be dead.
TEPPIC [o.s.]
As it is, I have half a mind to kill you myself, Chid.
The meeting's collective attention swings over to another statue of what appears to be a goddess of love, depicted in a gown with a plunging neckline and the skirt slit up to the hip. From the crumbling plaster of the statue's face has surfaced an undeniably male face, who is obviously not happy about his disguise.
CHIDDER
Hey, we flipped for it, Teppic. Don't get your knickers in a bunch. Oh right... love goddesses don't wear underwear, do they?
Nobby, whom one may assume has entertained unclean thoughts about the statue of the love goddess, has started choking at the very disturbing sight of Teppic's face atop the curvaceous body, even as Teppic breaks the pose in a shower of crumbling plaster. Teppic is almost as dark- complected as his colleague is fair, with the olive skin and black hair of Djelibeybi.
TEPPIC
And I expect you used a loaded coin.
CHIDDER
How do you think *I* feel? I've been holding this bloody scale up for about two hours now and my shoulder is *killing* me.
TEPPIC
You're worried about a tired shoulder?! I have *breasts,* for Set's sake!
VIMES
GENTLEMEN! [to Teppic] There are ladies present!
RIDCULLY
Actually, this is just getting good.
VIMES
You shut up. Now... Chidder, Teppic... if you're not working for the Empire, why in the Nine Hells were you spying on this meeting?!
CHIDDER
Well, when the Guilds broke up, all the hardarses and grand poobahs went with the Empire, right?
VIMES
[cautious] Yes...
CHIDDER
Well, the Assassins had their hardarses too. Like Mr. Teatime.
There is an incertain pause.
COLON
Sounds like the host of a children's programme.
RIDCULLY
Or maybe an auto-brewing tea service - you know, sort of like "Mr. Coffee"?
CHIDDER
Trust me on this. He is not good with children, and he does not brew your tea for you. At least you wouldn't want him to. As Assassins come, he's absolutely...
He pauses, searching for an inoffensive adjective of sufficient intensity to describe Mr. Teatime. As the others chime in, he gestures to indicate warmer or colder.
RIDCULLY
Dangerous?
COLON
Homicidal?
RINCEWIND
Really not nice?
NOBBY
Crazy?
LADY SYBIL
Batshit?
CHIDDER / TEPPIC [unison]
Yes!
There is a thoughtful pause. Teppic continues chipping away at the plaster contours of his disguise, looking visibly relieved as the bosom falls away.
VIMES
So... we should just take your word for it that you two aren't like that.
CHIDDER
Oh, come on... do we look that untrustworthy to you?
VIMES
[promptly] Yes.
CHIDDER
Oh, now that hurts, you mot trusting us like that. I mean, my mate Teppic being a royal descendant and all--
He pauses when he sees Vimes' brow darken.
CHIDDER
[recovering] --but he abdicated his throne, so that's all right, right?
VIMES
So... he *was* a king?
CHIDDER
But no longer. Just ask him.
VIMES
[to Teppic] Say you so?
TEPPIC
[glaring at Chidder and his big fat mouth] So say I. Not that it has any bearing on this, CHIDDER. Our business is with Mr. Teatime.
VIMES
[sighs] Well, at least get into some proper clothing and maybe we can discuss this further.
CHIDDER
[glancing pointedly at Angua] And maybe you could introduce us to some of the regulars, aye?
He winks at her.
Angua gives an annoyed sigh.
PRINCESS ANGUA
Do *all* the minor characters want to shag with me, or something?!
There is an uneasy pause as most of the [primarily male] minor characters gathered at the table clear their throats and look absolutely everywhere but at Angua. Carrot tries to reassure her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.
Vimes massages his forehead.
EXT - LLAMEDOS - PREDAWN
The Llamedos coast is marked by a sheer cliff-face that plunges directly into the ocean by way of clusters of pointy rocks of the sort that sirens would use to practice their latest songs. At the top of the cliff is a circle of stone monoliths, about twenty feet across, with an octogram etched into the granite flagstones that serve as the floor of this open-air temple.
A line of cloistered druids carrying golden scythes files towards the stonehenge, their reedy chanting drifting up on the light breeze.
DRUIDS
[chanting solemnly] Is this the real life... is this just fantasy... caught in a landslide, no escape from re-al-i-teee... [continues]
They reach the stone circle and form a semicircle around one side of it. A beat later, the impending dawn finishes barrelling across the ocean, builds up against the cliff, and overflows all over the circle and its assembled druids.
The Head Druid turns to one of his acolytes.
HEAD DRUID
Twenty seconds off. Damned thing is losing time.
ACOLYTE
Well, this is an older monolith - you can't expect them to stay accurate forever. I'll send away for an upgrade.
HEAD DRUID
You do that. You know, in my grandfather's day they made monoliths that really passed the test of time. Not like these newer models.
There is a sudden gust of wind that tugs at all the druids' robes and draws their attention finally beyond the monolith, just in time to see a reptilian tail snake away below the cliff edge.
ACOLYTE
What the hell was--?
We hear the sound of leathery wings catching an updraft, carrying the associated Dragon above the cliff-edge, and by default above the druids. We can only discern a black silhouette, as the sunlight falls across its back, but then we see a fiery glow deep within its throat, silhouetting a mouthful of teeth as it opens its mouth.
The lower-ranking druids instinctively freeze in terror, but the head druid steps forward to the centre of the monolith, raising his scythe at the impossibly hovering Dragon. He must scream to be heard.
HEAD DRUID
Back, foul demon! Get back to your hell!
The Dragon tilts its head in curiosity.
The Head Druids robes whip around him in the violent windstorm kicked up by the Dragon's wings, making him look rather impression, considering the relative scale.
HEAD DRUID
You shall not pass! I forbid it! I command you to leave this holy ground and return to the foul pit that spawned you! [raising his scythe] YOU... SHALL NOT... PASS!
He slams the butt end of the scythe into the centre of the octogram, kicking up a small shockwave of divine power that, unfortunately, does nothing to the neutrally-aligned Dragon.
The Dragon, meanwhile, seems to arrive at a decision. It belches a massive fireball at the lot of them.
EXT - EPHEBE
Carrot is in the middle of loading up his space vessel - an X-wing, this time - when he pauses and shivers, then dabs a sheen of sweat from his brow. His Jedi abilities have grown, and he senses the confrontation in Llamedos, though he can't quite link the sensation to the incident.
PRINCESS ANGUA
Carrot?
He turns to regard the Princess, and offers her a wan "I'm okay, really I am" smile. She isn't quite fooled - thanks to a combination of women's intuition and werewolf instincts.
PRINCESS ANGUA
So... back to Lancre?
CARROT
I have to finish my Jedi training. I promised Weatherwax I'd return.
He reaches out and brushes her cheek tenderly with his fingertips.
CARROT [contd.]
I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll meet up with you in Quirm if it comes to that. There are just some things that need to be finished before this is over.
PRINCESS ANGUA
[resigned] I know...
There is a meaningful pause, then they embrace, holding each other close for a few moments. He strokes her golden hair lightly and kisses her lightly on the lips, then they separate and he climbs into the X-wing.
An unhappy Artoo sits behind the cockpit, in the accustomed spot for astro-droids.
ARTOO
[subtitle: I hate my life... I hate my life... I hate my life...]
All the same, he powers up the X-wing as Carrot straps himself in. As the hatch closes, Carrot glances down at Angua, who offers him a small wave.
He touches the visor of his flight helmet to her as the X-wing takes off.
Angua watches the sleek vessel diminish into the distance, until a hand enters the frame and touches her on the shoulder. She turns to face the owner of the hand - her mother, Queen Serafine. Serafine looks sympathetic but vaguely disapproving.
INT - STAR DESTROYER
Darth Vetinari sits at his desk, looking over a few documents as a Newton's Cradle clicks merrily away to one side. Despite all probability, the momentum of the silver marbles does not diminish in the slightest during this scene. The door chime rings. The tune is a chirpy, electronic version of the first nine notes of the Imperial March: bing bing bing bingley bing bingley bing. Vetinari briefly glares up at the Director Space before acknowledging the chime.
DARTH VETINARI
Come in.
The door hisses open to admit an Imperial Officer, who approaches to a set distance from the desk and stands at attention, waiting for Vetinari to formally acknowledge him. Finally the Sith Lord looks up.
DARTH VETINARI
Report.
OFFICER
We've just received word from our operatives near Llamedos.
DARTH VETINARI
And?
OFFICER
[reciting] Death... destruction... towns in flames... basically she went through the country like drunken troll, sir.
DARTH VETINARI
Hm. Casualties?
OFFICER
The Llamedos people had no warning. They never knew what hit them. The last report had her headed towards Omnia.
DARTH VETINARI
Excellent. I want further updates as soon as they're available.
The officer squirms slightly.
OFFICER
That might be difficult, sir.
DARTH VETINARI
Difficult?
The word seems to leave a foul taste in Vetinari's mouth.
OFFICER
The operative in question was killed shortly after sending his report.
DARTH VETINARI
By whom?
OFFICER
By the dr-- By You Know Who.
DARTH VETINARI
Pity.
OFFICER
And it wasn't just him, either.
DARTH VETINARI
No?
OFFICER
His stunt double was killed, too.
DARTH VETINARI
Well, two less people on payroll... [maliciously, to Director Space] Isn't that right?
OFFICER
Er, who are you talking to, sir?
DARTH VETINARI
Never you mind. I want you to get in contact with our other spies and report to me regularly. Is that understood?
OFFICER
[salutes] Sir.
He turns sharply on his heel and exits the office.
GEORGE LUCAS [o.s.]
That was a perfectly good stunt double you killed off.
DARTH VETINARI
Oh. Well. I seem to recall somebody telling me that I was the villain and therefore I was supposed to be evil. Now, unless you wish to discuss this over a gentlemanly lightsaber duel, I suggest you keep your distance.
He stands and attempts to loom at the director.
GEORGE LUCAS [o.s.]
You're just being pissy.
DARTH VETINARI
I am not being pissy.
GEORGE LUCAS
Are too.
DARTH VETINARI
Am not.
GEORGE LUCAS
Are too infinity.
DARTH VETINARI
Am not infinity plus one.
GEORGE LUCAS
I *invented* Jedi powers.
DARTH VETINARI
Feh. You can't even *spell* midichlorians.
GEORGE LUCAS
[bristles] Lightsabers, one hour.
DARTH VETINARI
You're on. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go be evil elsewhere.
Darth Vetinari leaves his office with an imperious sweep of his cape.
INT - STAR DESTROYER - CORRIDOR
As Vetinari exits into the hallway, he is accosted almost immediately by PRESTON and LOGAN.
PRESTON / LOGAN
Sith-dude! Sith-dude! Sith-dude!
Vetinari whirls on them.
DARTH VETINARI
[echo] WHAT?! [/echo]
Preston and Logan rock back on their heels. Preston recovers first.
PRESTON
Er, we've both been scoping out that Most Imperial Dude Lord Hong...
LOGAN
... and we totally acknowledge that you, like, should know everything that goes on around here...
PRESTON
... but we think Lord Hong might be evil.
LOGAN
*Totally* evil.
PRESTON
*Heinously* evil.
Vetinari gives them both a long, withering look.
DARTH VETINARI
Preston, Logan, this is a very insightful observation from both of you. [pause] As such, it is worthy of no less than a well thought out, educated response. And of course I will word my rebuttal in terms that I am certain you will understand. [he pauses, as though in serious consideration of this problem. Finally:] Duh.
He walks away.
Preston and Logan exchange a slightly haunted "we're totally hosed" look.
PRESTON
We have to find our phone booth and get out of here.
LOGAN
A most excellent suggestion, Bill.
They hurry away in the opposite direction to Vetinari's own egress.
*****
End Part 5.
*****
VIMES
Right then. Back to the matter at hand - who should we send to infiltrate the Star Destroyer and rescue Leonard?
RIDCULLY
Chewie and I have broken into Star Destroyers before.
Chewbacca grunts in agreement.
VIMES
I appreciate your piloting experience, but I'd rather you take someone with you.
RIDCULLY
Really? I'm touched by your concern, Vimesy.
VIMES
No, you're touched in the head if you think I'm sending someone like you alone to do this. If Leonard is as important for the Empire to keep as he is for us to get him away, then he'll be under heavy guard. This mission will require stealth - and you, Ridcully, have all the stealth of a band of inebriated dwarves.
Chewbacca hoots a correction.
RINCEWIND
[translating] Um, less than that.
RIDCULLY
Why you little--!
Rincewind spills over backwards in his chair to avoid Ridcully, who has lunged at him. The pratfall turns into a somersault, and Rincewind, now a red blur, rolls to his feet in a defensive pose [thanks to his Jedi reflexes]. Chewbacca, meanwhile, has grabbed Ridcully's shoulders and forced him down again, scolding him.
RIDCULLY
No, you *won't* need to sit on me. I'm fine. Really. *Yes* I'm sure!
Only then does Chewbacca sit down again. After a few beats, Rincewind sheepishly rights his chair again and sits down.
VIMES
If you two are done? Good. Now. We'll need at least one, probably two others who know a few thinks about stealthy extractions of a target under heavy guard.
VOICE
I might be able to help you with that.
After a few moments of alarmed searching around by those assembled, one of the marble statues decorating the hall lowers an arm holding a pair of scales [the arm had been outstretched above its head], causing the thin layer of white plaster or paint to crack and flake off, revealing fair skin beneath. Apparently this man has remained frozen in that pose since the beginning of the scene. His shoulder must be killing him.
VIMES
Who the hell are you?!
MAN
I do apologise for the subterfuge. Professional habit, don't you know.
[he continues brushing the plaster shell away. The statue he was masquerading as was naked to the waist, and therefore so is he]
My name is Chidder. I was a cardcarrying Guildsman, back when the Ankh- Morpork Guilds meant anything.
VIMES
[instantly on his guard] What Guild?
CHIDDER
Oh, isn't it obvious? By the way, you really need to improve your security around here. I might have killed any of you and made it look like an attack of appendicitis.
He shakes out his hair, which is a mass of golden ringlets. He looks like he might have been an angel in another lifetime, especially considering his current disguise.
LADY SYBIL
You're an Assassin?
CHIDDER
Was. I was an Assassin. I took the test, got the card, earned my dagger. But... [sighs] no Guild, no Assassins. Just psychopaths and murderers, really.
[he looks around and notices everyone looking at him like he may detonate at any moment]
[defensive] There's a difference!
VIMES
All right... who do you work for, then?
CHIDDER
Myself, mainly. Teppic and I became free agents after it hit the fan. Trust me - if we'd been hired by the Empire to kill you, you'd all be dead.
TEPPIC [o.s.]
As it is, I have half a mind to kill you myself, Chid.
The meeting's collective attention swings over to another statue of what appears to be a goddess of love, depicted in a gown with a plunging neckline and the skirt slit up to the hip. From the crumbling plaster of the statue's face has surfaced an undeniably male face, who is obviously not happy about his disguise.
CHIDDER
Hey, we flipped for it, Teppic. Don't get your knickers in a bunch. Oh right... love goddesses don't wear underwear, do they?
Nobby, whom one may assume has entertained unclean thoughts about the statue of the love goddess, has started choking at the very disturbing sight of Teppic's face atop the curvaceous body, even as Teppic breaks the pose in a shower of crumbling plaster. Teppic is almost as dark- complected as his colleague is fair, with the olive skin and black hair of Djelibeybi.
TEPPIC
And I expect you used a loaded coin.
CHIDDER
How do you think *I* feel? I've been holding this bloody scale up for about two hours now and my shoulder is *killing* me.
TEPPIC
You're worried about a tired shoulder?! I have *breasts,* for Set's sake!
VIMES
GENTLEMEN! [to Teppic] There are ladies present!
RIDCULLY
Actually, this is just getting good.
VIMES
You shut up. Now... Chidder, Teppic... if you're not working for the Empire, why in the Nine Hells were you spying on this meeting?!
CHIDDER
Well, when the Guilds broke up, all the hardarses and grand poobahs went with the Empire, right?
VIMES
[cautious] Yes...
CHIDDER
Well, the Assassins had their hardarses too. Like Mr. Teatime.
There is an incertain pause.
COLON
Sounds like the host of a children's programme.
RIDCULLY
Or maybe an auto-brewing tea service - you know, sort of like "Mr. Coffee"?
CHIDDER
Trust me on this. He is not good with children, and he does not brew your tea for you. At least you wouldn't want him to. As Assassins come, he's absolutely...
He pauses, searching for an inoffensive adjective of sufficient intensity to describe Mr. Teatime. As the others chime in, he gestures to indicate warmer or colder.
RIDCULLY
Dangerous?
COLON
Homicidal?
RINCEWIND
Really not nice?
NOBBY
Crazy?
LADY SYBIL
Batshit?
CHIDDER / TEPPIC [unison]
Yes!
There is a thoughtful pause. Teppic continues chipping away at the plaster contours of his disguise, looking visibly relieved as the bosom falls away.
VIMES
So... we should just take your word for it that you two aren't like that.
CHIDDER
Oh, come on... do we look that untrustworthy to you?
VIMES
[promptly] Yes.
CHIDDER
Oh, now that hurts, you mot trusting us like that. I mean, my mate Teppic being a royal descendant and all--
He pauses when he sees Vimes' brow darken.
CHIDDER
[recovering] --but he abdicated his throne, so that's all right, right?
VIMES
So... he *was* a king?
CHIDDER
But no longer. Just ask him.
VIMES
[to Teppic] Say you so?
TEPPIC
[glaring at Chidder and his big fat mouth] So say I. Not that it has any bearing on this, CHIDDER. Our business is with Mr. Teatime.
VIMES
[sighs] Well, at least get into some proper clothing and maybe we can discuss this further.
CHIDDER
[glancing pointedly at Angua] And maybe you could introduce us to some of the regulars, aye?
He winks at her.
Angua gives an annoyed sigh.
PRINCESS ANGUA
Do *all* the minor characters want to shag with me, or something?!
There is an uneasy pause as most of the [primarily male] minor characters gathered at the table clear their throats and look absolutely everywhere but at Angua. Carrot tries to reassure her with a gentle squeeze of her hand.
Vimes massages his forehead.
EXT - LLAMEDOS - PREDAWN
The Llamedos coast is marked by a sheer cliff-face that plunges directly into the ocean by way of clusters of pointy rocks of the sort that sirens would use to practice their latest songs. At the top of the cliff is a circle of stone monoliths, about twenty feet across, with an octogram etched into the granite flagstones that serve as the floor of this open-air temple.
A line of cloistered druids carrying golden scythes files towards the stonehenge, their reedy chanting drifting up on the light breeze.
DRUIDS
[chanting solemnly] Is this the real life... is this just fantasy... caught in a landslide, no escape from re-al-i-teee... [continues]
They reach the stone circle and form a semicircle around one side of it. A beat later, the impending dawn finishes barrelling across the ocean, builds up against the cliff, and overflows all over the circle and its assembled druids.
The Head Druid turns to one of his acolytes.
HEAD DRUID
Twenty seconds off. Damned thing is losing time.
ACOLYTE
Well, this is an older monolith - you can't expect them to stay accurate forever. I'll send away for an upgrade.
HEAD DRUID
You do that. You know, in my grandfather's day they made monoliths that really passed the test of time. Not like these newer models.
There is a sudden gust of wind that tugs at all the druids' robes and draws their attention finally beyond the monolith, just in time to see a reptilian tail snake away below the cliff edge.
ACOLYTE
What the hell was--?
We hear the sound of leathery wings catching an updraft, carrying the associated Dragon above the cliff-edge, and by default above the druids. We can only discern a black silhouette, as the sunlight falls across its back, but then we see a fiery glow deep within its throat, silhouetting a mouthful of teeth as it opens its mouth.
The lower-ranking druids instinctively freeze in terror, but the head druid steps forward to the centre of the monolith, raising his scythe at the impossibly hovering Dragon. He must scream to be heard.
HEAD DRUID
Back, foul demon! Get back to your hell!
The Dragon tilts its head in curiosity.
The Head Druids robes whip around him in the violent windstorm kicked up by the Dragon's wings, making him look rather impression, considering the relative scale.
HEAD DRUID
You shall not pass! I forbid it! I command you to leave this holy ground and return to the foul pit that spawned you! [raising his scythe] YOU... SHALL NOT... PASS!
He slams the butt end of the scythe into the centre of the octogram, kicking up a small shockwave of divine power that, unfortunately, does nothing to the neutrally-aligned Dragon.
The Dragon, meanwhile, seems to arrive at a decision. It belches a massive fireball at the lot of them.
EXT - EPHEBE
Carrot is in the middle of loading up his space vessel - an X-wing, this time - when he pauses and shivers, then dabs a sheen of sweat from his brow. His Jedi abilities have grown, and he senses the confrontation in Llamedos, though he can't quite link the sensation to the incident.
PRINCESS ANGUA
Carrot?
He turns to regard the Princess, and offers her a wan "I'm okay, really I am" smile. She isn't quite fooled - thanks to a combination of women's intuition and werewolf instincts.
PRINCESS ANGUA
So... back to Lancre?
CARROT
I have to finish my Jedi training. I promised Weatherwax I'd return.
He reaches out and brushes her cheek tenderly with his fingertips.
CARROT [contd.]
I'll be back as soon as I can. I'll meet up with you in Quirm if it comes to that. There are just some things that need to be finished before this is over.
PRINCESS ANGUA
[resigned] I know...
There is a meaningful pause, then they embrace, holding each other close for a few moments. He strokes her golden hair lightly and kisses her lightly on the lips, then they separate and he climbs into the X-wing.
An unhappy Artoo sits behind the cockpit, in the accustomed spot for astro-droids.
ARTOO
[subtitle: I hate my life... I hate my life... I hate my life...]
All the same, he powers up the X-wing as Carrot straps himself in. As the hatch closes, Carrot glances down at Angua, who offers him a small wave.
He touches the visor of his flight helmet to her as the X-wing takes off.
Angua watches the sleek vessel diminish into the distance, until a hand enters the frame and touches her on the shoulder. She turns to face the owner of the hand - her mother, Queen Serafine. Serafine looks sympathetic but vaguely disapproving.
INT - STAR DESTROYER
Darth Vetinari sits at his desk, looking over a few documents as a Newton's Cradle clicks merrily away to one side. Despite all probability, the momentum of the silver marbles does not diminish in the slightest during this scene. The door chime rings. The tune is a chirpy, electronic version of the first nine notes of the Imperial March: bing bing bing bingley bing bingley bing. Vetinari briefly glares up at the Director Space before acknowledging the chime.
DARTH VETINARI
Come in.
The door hisses open to admit an Imperial Officer, who approaches to a set distance from the desk and stands at attention, waiting for Vetinari to formally acknowledge him. Finally the Sith Lord looks up.
DARTH VETINARI
Report.
OFFICER
We've just received word from our operatives near Llamedos.
DARTH VETINARI
And?
OFFICER
[reciting] Death... destruction... towns in flames... basically she went through the country like drunken troll, sir.
DARTH VETINARI
Hm. Casualties?
OFFICER
The Llamedos people had no warning. They never knew what hit them. The last report had her headed towards Omnia.
DARTH VETINARI
Excellent. I want further updates as soon as they're available.
The officer squirms slightly.
OFFICER
That might be difficult, sir.
DARTH VETINARI
Difficult?
The word seems to leave a foul taste in Vetinari's mouth.
OFFICER
The operative in question was killed shortly after sending his report.
DARTH VETINARI
By whom?
OFFICER
By the dr-- By You Know Who.
DARTH VETINARI
Pity.
OFFICER
And it wasn't just him, either.
DARTH VETINARI
No?
OFFICER
His stunt double was killed, too.
DARTH VETINARI
Well, two less people on payroll... [maliciously, to Director Space] Isn't that right?
OFFICER
Er, who are you talking to, sir?
DARTH VETINARI
Never you mind. I want you to get in contact with our other spies and report to me regularly. Is that understood?
OFFICER
[salutes] Sir.
He turns sharply on his heel and exits the office.
GEORGE LUCAS [o.s.]
That was a perfectly good stunt double you killed off.
DARTH VETINARI
Oh. Well. I seem to recall somebody telling me that I was the villain and therefore I was supposed to be evil. Now, unless you wish to discuss this over a gentlemanly lightsaber duel, I suggest you keep your distance.
He stands and attempts to loom at the director.
GEORGE LUCAS [o.s.]
You're just being pissy.
DARTH VETINARI
I am not being pissy.
GEORGE LUCAS
Are too.
DARTH VETINARI
Am not.
GEORGE LUCAS
Are too infinity.
DARTH VETINARI
Am not infinity plus one.
GEORGE LUCAS
I *invented* Jedi powers.
DARTH VETINARI
Feh. You can't even *spell* midichlorians.
GEORGE LUCAS
[bristles] Lightsabers, one hour.
DARTH VETINARI
You're on. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go be evil elsewhere.
Darth Vetinari leaves his office with an imperious sweep of his cape.
INT - STAR DESTROYER - CORRIDOR
As Vetinari exits into the hallway, he is accosted almost immediately by PRESTON and LOGAN.
PRESTON / LOGAN
Sith-dude! Sith-dude! Sith-dude!
Vetinari whirls on them.
DARTH VETINARI
[echo] WHAT?! [/echo]
Preston and Logan rock back on their heels. Preston recovers first.
PRESTON
Er, we've both been scoping out that Most Imperial Dude Lord Hong...
LOGAN
... and we totally acknowledge that you, like, should know everything that goes on around here...
PRESTON
... but we think Lord Hong might be evil.
LOGAN
*Totally* evil.
PRESTON
*Heinously* evil.
Vetinari gives them both a long, withering look.
DARTH VETINARI
Preston, Logan, this is a very insightful observation from both of you. [pause] As such, it is worthy of no less than a well thought out, educated response. And of course I will word my rebuttal in terms that I am certain you will understand. [he pauses, as though in serious consideration of this problem. Finally:] Duh.
He walks away.
Preston and Logan exchange a slightly haunted "we're totally hosed" look.
PRESTON
We have to find our phone booth and get out of here.
LOGAN
A most excellent suggestion, Bill.
They hurry away in the opposite direction to Vetinari's own egress.
*****
End Part 5.