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Chapter One: Coruscant Streets

…

The first thing I remembered was that I had no memories.

It seemed I had spent over a decade in a half in some sort of mental purgatory. The colors, the sounds, the overwhelmingly large amount of beings everywhere. All of it was so much.

I stared out across a large walkways, where hundreds of people, most of species different than one another, chattered, bartered, and walked in a gigantic wave, different waves, all in different directions.

Overhead, was the constant stream of traffic of flying machines in all directions. A city so tall and widespread there appeared to be nothing but towers and this market as far as I could see.

If that wasn't bad enough, it was difficult to withstand the noise of many of their thoughts, somehow linked into my head.

Businessmen, average citizens, mechanics, engineers, a politician, and dozens of others, blaring within my skull.

I couldn't bare the weight of their anxieties, dreams and worries for their days and their lives.

I stumbled backward, I need a breathe.

Someone grunted in a strange tongue behind me.

A very haggard looking being with three eyes and light orange skin appeared a bit disgruntled but confused.

…A beggar? Judging by the strange metal rectangles resting within the cup in front of him at the crook of the alleyway we resided.

I began to calm from the deafening and blinding amount of noise and colored light in all directions.

The man, or, thing in front of me grunted again in confusion. Suddenly, as the volume of the nearby super metropolis lessened, I heard his thoughts.

Who in the world is he?

His three black eyes followed me as I asserted his question was a good one. Just where was I? And who was I?

I walked a bit into the alleyway, turned, and saw a puddle between the large metal frames acting as garbage units and pipes between the two buildings.

My appearance was that of the beings nearby in the street walking upon two legs, with two eyes, a pair of two hands, and a single nose. With a bit darker skin than that of some, but certainly not the orange shade I'd recently come across.

I touched my own face, I barely recognized it somehow.

I turned again and walked towards the end of the alleyway next to the beggar.

The coins he was using had a strange marking on the end of it, made of metals with names I oddly remembered.

A silver, and bronze. And the inscriptions upon which were odd as well, but I could read them too, again how, I didn't know: Credits. 10. Credits. 1.

The beggar appeared a bit offended that I was staring at the few bits of money he owned and scooted his tin closer to himself.

'Get your own.' his three eyes narrowed as he squinted at me angrily.

I walked back into the street, stumbling into someone else, they barely appeared bothered enough to acknowledge it.

I turned, and at first, the letters on the nearby screen passed and didn't make any sense. But after a moment I could tell they said:

Visit Coruscant's best shopping centre! Only three kilometers west of Vos Gesal!

In bright orange letters repeatedly spinning through the blue hologram.

…

I eventually determined this entire city was named Coruscant, and from what I can tell, the entire planet consisted of the entire metropolis.

No one cared who I was. No one paid me any attention.

Except oddly, a pair of strangers who were standing on a street corner looking for me.

They weren't speaking to me, rather to each other. What made them odder, was that they were communicating through their thoughts.

I was unable to determine what they looked like, only that they were searching for someone with my description. Their tone in the words they shared telepathically were enough to tell me to keep hiding.

I went to sleep hungry that night, the beggar from the alleyway, the first person I met, was kind enough to at least share the dumpster next to where he lived.

…

The beggar told me he was a Gran, and that the only language he spoke was native Gran. I knew potentially dangerous people were looking for me so I insisted we keep our conversations within the alleyway.

He was both too old and too simple of a person to refuse me.

His name was Yinken, named after his homeworld, and the backwards, or rather, backwater he was raised from the failed colony the Gran attempted to inhabit.

He told me that his two cousins were the only two that survived the colony and promised to come back for him when they could find more work elsewhere in the galaxy, where other planets similar to this one resided, but not nearly as populated.

Now I had no idea what he was saying, rather I could read his intent within his mind. I noticed that some folks walking by on the street had thoughts that were almost impossible to read, while most were an open book.

The two dark and cloaked figures from yesterday were similar in that it took me almost five minutes to determine what they were doing on the street.

Yinken apologized in that he had nothing he could share with me as he barely had enough to eat himself, I had been the first person in years to listen to him.

The reason he had been unable to find work or move away from Coruscant was that he had lost an entire arm fighting off monsters on the old Gran colony he had inhabited. And he never had the money to buy a new one, speaking a mostly broken version of Gran, Yinken was mostly useless to the vast majority of employers.

He spoke to me again in his raspy but kind voice, again I needed to scan his mind to understand what he was saying.

'You're a young Kiffar boy. Try raising your strength and I'm sure you can help someone, someplace.'

I thanked Yinken for his time, and left, the two of us wishing each other good luck with a nod of our heads.

…

It turned out finding work was a whole lot harder than it seemed. Actually impossible.

Most folks that needed help on Coruscant weren't the nicest when it came to hiring newcomers, crime had been very rampant as of late, and hiring strangers who would easily sell new employers out for a higher payday to lose shipments of goods was common.

Those who were more trusting and insured required official paperwork and sometimes work history that I didn't have on both accounts.

Even the nicer people who were willing to hear me out couldn't hire me. This man actually didn't tell me to shoo given my homeless appearance as I approached him around for a large shipping company outside a packing yard in the upper district of Nos Tash, near the central part of Coruscant I began to look for work.

"Look, you seem nice a nice kid and I could really use the help." a Rodian helped two droids, robots with tremendous physical and mental capacity, and a large muscular human move crates. "But I can hardly get by paying these three and my own rent."

"You pay the droids?" I was confused.

He shook his head. "Not them, the guy renting them to me. He runs most of the droid companies this side of town."

It turned out most grunt work I could do in Coruscant was done better by droids.

I wanted to be a dishwasher in a nice diner up towards the northeast, and a multi armed droid was bought for buying cheaper, quicker, and more efficient than any organic being to the point where it wasn't even close. The owner merely shrugged and walked back inside his store when I told him I was looking for simple work.

The cheaper and dirtier diners back towards the market near Yinken's alley were handled by their owners and a family or friend or two and that was enough.

..

"I don't know how much longer I can go without eating."

Yinken merely shrugged towards me.

I wasn't going to steal from a man, or, Gran, who had nothing. It wasn't right, we had to look out for each other since all we had was this tiny dumpster space to share to sleep in where no one would bother us. And technically it was his first and he was nice enough to let me come back after a whole day of failing to find any work.

That night, I had barely gotten three hours of sleep. Either because of hunger, or worry, or both.

Gran was searching through the dumpster we slept next to, shaking his head when I tried to help him. The company using the building near where we lived dealt mainly in administering a huge manufacturing company's paperwork across several systems, they didn't tend to throw out food.

Most diners and restaurants around Coruscant were used to people trying to steal their food and rooting through their scraps. Food and work were so scarce if I didn't find anything by the end of this week, I was largely afraid I was going to starve to death.

…

It wasn't appetizing, but I returned to the diner where I was rejected for work and just barely managed to make a meal out of scraps. The owner barely saw me run off in time with a bit of trash I had hauled away from the back of it.

I heard him yell something in the background when I slipped into the crowd.

Most of the trash was useless, but bits of food I found wasn't rotten. Luckily.

I returned to Yinken's alleyway and offered to share some of it but he refused, speaking in grunted Gran bit by bit.

'I already ate yesterday.'

…

I had no further luck with work, and I found most alleyways closed off, already occupied by less than kind folks in a similar situation to mine, or simply near people who threatened to alert the authorities if I stayed.

Yinken offered the only bit of water, using a small system he had developed from the cisterns and drains from the two buildings next to our alleyway, and shelter I could find. His company wasn't the best, he was calm, but grumpy sometimes.

For four days straight I survived off scraps and a handout or two people like a wealthy trader from this system named Tibrin was able to give me. The kitchen droids hated me, one nearly gave me a beating I narrowly avoided when someone attempted to intervene and we both ran off to avoid the trouble.

I wondered if there was any sort of help the more fortunate people of Coruscant could give me in the form of work or food, but there simply wasn't any. Yinken told me he had almost died of an infection in his left leg last year but was turned away at the government building he found meant exactly for people like him, and any other attempts of the sort were similar.

…

The armament of some on the street were blasters, handheld devices that fired bolts.

I only saw a few police robots patrolling the street carrying them, but a random person on the street was almost going to threaten me with one to shake me down for any credits or food I had with me while traveling through alleyways after another night of scrounging for scraps.

If it wasn't for me realizing his thoughts were bent on robbery that I hurried up and managed to slip into the crowd nearby, I would've been toast.

After almost a week of surviving here, I realized soon that I wasn't like most people.

And not because of the ability to only have a single friend as poor as I was no.

I could feel the intention of most people just by glancing in their direction, some folks had louder emotions than others.

A Rodian who had lost a fortune on gambling and betting on something called Podracing was so furious that it was almost impossible for me to read the emotions or thoughts of anyone else who was walking by.

There was some sort of strange entity linking me to the health, thoughts, emotions, of everyone I came across, and it took days to adjust to it, even a little. I could even feel the push and pull of inanimate objects.

I was about to trip on something when I was walking across a busy street, but in a way, I couldn't explain, I could've sworn that the metal box slid out of the way.

I looked at it again, but it didn't move. Wasn't it over there a second ago?

It had moved so subtly that no one else on the street noticed.

…

He was sick again.

Near the end of the week, I realized Yinken was lying to me, specifically about his health.

I offered to find medicine for the infection in his leg, which had come back. Maybe a doctor.

'Too expensive.' the aging Gran insisted. 'Too hard. Too much trouble to steal.'

I shook my head. "You could die."

"I'm not worth your neck." I could tell he said, having had enough conversations to more or less understand.

I think he was worth it.

I didn't bother him over it, I didn't find food for either of us that night and when I came back, he was getting a bit sicker.

Yinken's condition worsened throughout the week, and he could no longer walk.

…

I found a quiet corner of Coruscant to think to myself, watching folks pass by, too entrapped in my own thoughts to hear those of anyone else.

I owed Yinken what little I had, and besides bringing him a few leftover scraps from my own meals on some nights, I hadn't given much back to him.

Did I owe him anything to find this medicine? Most folks I found on the street in my shoes would've just killed him to take the credits he begged for and take over his alleyway from the bits of cruelty I had read in some minds.

But how could I possibly heal him?

I didn't really understand this strange power I possessed in the slightest, and I had so little money that I couldn't even afford my own food.

By the next morning, it was clear to me by reading Yinken's thoughts and body that he was going to die very soon if I didn't do something.

I was ashamed to admit a large part of me wanted to leave him. He had refused my help, and helping to save his life was going to put myself at risk. Medicine was among the few things in Coruscant so valuable that no one just threw it away in dumpsters and let vagrants like myself fight over it.

I read the minds of the doctors in charge of a few medical droid stations in the heart of Coruscant and found that Yinken's treatment would cost around fifteen hundred credits, a simple supplement to allow his immune system to fight off the infection.

There was only one avenue left to help save my friend, if he considered me to be so:

Crime.

I had only stolen scraps of food of sorts this would be entirely different though, organized crime gangs were generally hidden in plain sight, and I had even seen a shootout be resolved by Coruscant police the other night between the two of them.

A large clan named the Hutts employed most of the street toughs who ran things around here, but in recent times, crime had become common enough for others to make a go for power in the streets.

…

It was raining when I found two thugs sharing a conversation in one of the two exits to a shifty Coruscant nightclub.

"You looking 'fer work?" the bald tough said.

I nodded quickly.

"What kind? We don't have much." a female Weequay muttered.

"Any kind. The quicker and higher pay the better. I won't ask any questions."

They seemed to nod to each other.

The woman pirate shrugged. 'He seems skinny, at least his willingness is promising.'

"Alright, I can find you some easy work tonight."

"What do I have to do?"

"You can talk to my boss." She crossed her arms, scratching her chin. 'It's the kind you don't need clothes sometimes for. All I can see for you.'

I took a deep breath, I couldn't go that far.

"I was thinking along the lines of muscle work."

"You need muscle for that twerp." her friend said. "And you pro'lly haven't fired a blaster in your whole life. I think you're only cut out for one kind of work with us."

"Give me one chance, if I mess up, I'll never bother you two again."

They glanced at one another again.

'Fine.' the Weequay woman shrugged once more.

"How good are you at blending into a crowd?" she asked.

…

Pretty good considering that was how I stayed out of sight well enough to steal scraps and avoid trouble for several days.

I knocked on the door of a tall apartment building. A much wealthier part of Coruscant than I was used to.

The son of some senator or something smiled at his delivery of Deathsticks for his party, whatever the hell they were.

"You wanna stick around? You can consider it a tip." he shrugged with a very patronizing smile.

As fun as the girls seemed, I didn't think so.

"Suit yourself." he closed the door with a press of the nearby console and it slid closed.

…

I had earned one hundred credits for moving packages all over town. Hadn't got caught once or even caught the eye of one police droid.

It was good pay considering how the work mainly involved me walking, but Yinken didn't have two weeks. He had a few more days at best, especially because I had to start buying a bit of food to help keep his strength up to fight the infection.

"I need more work," I said to the Weequay woman, Nay, who had paid me last night.

"That's all we got these days." said Nay tiredly.

"Please, anything else helps."

Her taller bald friend chuckled. "You already refused the other kind she offered."

I shook my head. "I think I can be useful in a fight, not for that stuff."

"Look, this is a bit tougher work but if you're up for it, the pay is certainly better." Nay offered gruffly. "Come along."

She tossed me a blaster, a pistol that was heavier than it appeared.

"Ever use that?" the other thug asked.

I shook my head. "How hard can it be?"

Nay agreed with a chuckle. 'That's the spirit kid.'

…

"First time in one of these?"

"Yup."

We were taking a sleek light blue Koro series air speeder towards the east of the city.

"Name's Rip." I could tell by his emotions the big guy in the passenger seat to Nay was lying. "Yours?"

"Doesn't matter does it?" I studied the simple but eye catching design of the pistol Nay handed tome.

"Not really, no. Anyway, I used to work as a top enforcer for the Banking Clan a few years ago, got laid off." 'Rip' suggested toughly. "All I can recommend is you don't say a word tonight."

"Laid off?" I tucked the blaster into my pocket.

He shrugged. "My bosses got killed."

'So I guess you didn't do a very good job then.' I heard Nay joke in her mind.

I turned, I had never been this high up before. Coruscant was much prettier from up in the air.

It was much nicer to deal with all the traffic up here instead of on the ground because everyone passed by too quickly for me to deal with their thoughts.

I had no idea what we were doing tonight, a robbery, an assassination, all I knew was Nay and Rip were so calm whatever we were doing were an average weeknight for them.

We arrived at a large nightclub with parking at the top of a tall colorful skyscraper, different than the rest because there were lots of air speeders flowing right through the center.

Nay let an automated parking system direct the speeder into position while fixing her biker's uniform. "The bosses are here, so don't you dare say a word. Either of you."

'I won't say anything if you won't.' Rip thought.

We got out of the airspeeder where around nine or so other deliciously dangerous looking folks were standing around near the entrance to the bar.

The bosses were two Patrolians, a somewhat rare species of aquatic fish people dressed in dark black clothes.

No one questioned or mentioned my appearance, and we began to walk towards the bar.

For some reason, no one in line appeared to complain when we entered.

But only one emotion was present in several who appeared to wonder why we cut through: Fear.

…

Through the music and lights of the nightclub, I was able to focus on one things, Rip's oversized neck, to be able to drown everything out.

We walked all the way to the other end of the club, the crowd making way for us without blinking an eye. Our group stopped in front of a booth flanked by two Gand bodyguards.

"Irazaan!" Both Patrolian brothers shook hands with the crime boss they were doing a deal with apparently tonight.

Irazaan was a male Human, with a neatly trimmed beard, short cut red hair, who wasn't remotely uncomfortable unlike everyone outside. "I hope the ride over was fine. Shall we get started?"

"How about some drinks?" The Patrolian with the robotic arm suggested.

His twin shook his head. "Nevermind him." he said in a slimy voice waving a webbed hand. "Show us the goods."

Irazaan nodded, revealing a suitcase.

Inside were Kyber crystals, I didn't know anything about them except that they were valuable.

"Do we know each other well enough to ask for your source?" one of the twins asked through the blaring music of the nightclub.

'No. The Jedi carrying these no longer needed them. Stop asking.'

"Afraid not," answered Irazaan. "So?"

With a wide grin full of razor sharp teeth, one of my new bosses bared a smile and a large bag full of credits.

Chuckling, Irazaan nodded. "It's a pleasure doing business with you tonight gentlemen. Take care."

"Want to count it?"

"All of our prior purchases went fine." Irazaan said. "I don't see why this one won't either. The next will be fine too."

"Looking forward to the next one too, 'zaan."

They exchanged the money for the crystals and we began to walk away, until I heard a very suspicious thought from the human crime boss' mind.

'Shame our partnership had to end so soon.'

I blinked, and could sense there was an ambush waiting just outside of the bar. They were going to shoot us at the door.

I could close my eyes and see them standing there, blasters ready.

I looked near the sound stage and the roof of the nightclub, almost impossible to see, but two assassin droids were armed with sniper blaster rifles had their sights trained on either twin.

At the pace we were walking and somehow, I knew exactly when everyone was about to fire.

Time to earn my pay.

"Get down!" I shouted.

I pushed my new bosses out of the way and fired at the stage where one of the assassin droids were perched up. The blast caused one wire to detach, causing the droid to fall and crash to the floor.

Everyone in the bar began to scream and run, as everyone armed themselves.

The other assassin took his shot but it was too late, its buddies outside the bar missed their cue but entered the bar anyway, taking aim.

A droid serving drinks was blasted to pieces as all of us took cover behind the bar.

"Been in too many of these to go out this way!" shouted Nay, hurling glasses to confuse enemy gang members to then blast one in the knee.

Rip proved to be terrible with a blaster despite all of his talk, getting shot through the shoulder twice.

I wasn't great with shooting, having fired a pistol for the first time ever just a moment ago, but despite all the people running, blaring music and lights, I just knew where everyone was.

I knew where our enemies were. Where they were firing from.

The shootout wasn't onesided, but I quickly determined the correct time to fire and where to aim and use my blaster.

By the time it was over, my head was ringing. My vision focused again. There were corspes around and I didn't realize I had just very likely killed someone. People, thugs trying to kill me, but still I-

The Patrolian brother with the silver necklace finished frying a Gand bodyguard's face with cybernetic enhancements on his hands after a few of our guys blasted the rifle out of his hands. He had jumped onto the thug with almost blinding speed, grabbing him by the neck in seconds.

All the other guards were fleeing as Irazaan shrunk back in his booth.

"H-Hey, Devi- Don't."

"Don't what?"

"This runt you brought didn't know what he was shooting at. This was just a huge mistake."

The Patrolian's long fingers swam in the air. "I know a set up when I see one. Don't ruin your last moments with more pathetic lies."

Irazaan gasped and yelled when Devi's twin brother jumped on him like he just did earlier and killed him the same way again with electricity.

"Good riddance." Nay smirked.

The Patrolian swiped the cash he used to pay for the Kyber crystals and we began to leave the club, and the ground beneath us shook.

Bombs blew away the remaining airspeeds in the garage to pieces, and we barely had time to hide behind the nearby walls near the doors of the bar in time.

Devi hissed, the blue frills around his face shaking when he spoke angrily. "A final goodbye from our old friend 'zaan."

The sirens of oncoming police droid airspeeders told us it was high time to run as fast as we could.

An Abednedo member of our gang had to carry Rip with us as we blasted the locks off a door leading to the stairwell down.

…

We shot our way down, and I quickly realized how desensitized to violence I had become.

Just after one shootout, filled to the brim with adrenaline over and over to have to fight for my life, just over some money I needed to help my only friend survive, it drove me to fight like my life depended on it:

Because it just simply did.

Through the dark stairways more thugs of Irazaan's old gang appeared, a few more IG droids halfway through, and even the Coruscant police droids.

We had lost three people, and it was clear that the bottom of the building had been completely surrounded by cops.

"Any ideas for how we're getting out of this one!?" yelled Nay, as we were pinned under fire in a hallway from the last of Irazaan's gang guarding what I assumed was his headquarters.

Devi was changing power packs on his twin blaster pistols just by spinning them. "Not really? Sure this is your first shootout kid? Saved our necks back there!"

"You got any ideas?" Nay yelled before I could respond as she peeked out of cover and shot back red bolts.

I looked to the nearby window and through my strange powers I knew there was a chance, just a chance we could make it out of this.

I picked up a nearby bigger blaster from a fallen thug and the entire window blasted into the open skyline of Coruscant traffic.

"This is the only way we're making it out of this!" I yelled, knowing we only had a few more seconds before the big trash carrying air speeder stopped cruising past.

"Yeah no shit." Nay saw the huge garbage aircar nearby and covered us, as the Patrolian twins led us onto the trash heap.

Through the blaster fire and smoke of the building we jumped into the cold Coruscant air and began to fly off, assailed by police airspeeders in a split moment.

I ducked as a thermal detonator Devi threw caused a police droid speeder bike to collide with a building, and another made a whole police airspeeder veer off and collide with a random civilian's car.

Nay threw the droid piloting the garbage airspeeder out over twenty stories down and we continued to fly off, narrowly managing to shake off police with well timed bombs and our blaster fire.

…

I wiped the sweat and a bit of blood off my forehead when we returned to the hideout acting as the Patrolian brother's base.

Devi spoke. "Well that's certainly a way to debut in our crew."

"Thank you."

"I'm Devi Harkolen. This is my twin brother Revi. We run all the spice, guns, and stuff the Republic can't handle on the streets 'round 'ere."

He crossed his long webbed sharp fingers together when he put his shoulders up onto his desk through the dark office we spoke in. "What's your name?"

"Never had one." I said truthfully.

"I see. Fresh off the streets then, I'm not one to judge." Devi shrugged. "Here, your cut from today."

He slid five gold one hundred credit bars towards me.

"Consider yourself a permanent member of our operations," Revi said with a smile, pouring himself and his brother a drink.

"Can I ask how you managed to pull any of that off?" asked Devi.

I shrugged. "Quick thinking, luck."

"I'd think more than luck could be involved. But it's not uncommon for some people to be more attuned to our work than others." Revi muttered.

"There's a certain brand of medicine I need for my friend, it's why I started this work. I think I knew a few credits more."

"Hm." Devi said.

'Wouldn't mind keeping him around.'

"Fine. I'll give you an extra thousand. You pay it back."

I knew he knew I knew better than to not to.

"I'll see you around kid." Devi muttered.

…

I held the medicine within my pockets to help save Yinken.

The Gran was rolled over near his dumpster across from mine.

"Yin!"

I could sense just by looking at him that he was dead. But not from his infection oddly.

He had a blaster mark right in his chest.

I gulped, holding back tears.

All of that. I helped engage in a turf war between the gangs of Coruscant. Sure no one necessarily innocent had died, but I had risked my life and safety, possibly went to prison.

Over saving his life, all for nothing.

I had to use three fingers to close his eyes.

This alleyway had been my home for weeks, and I held my emotions in check. Someone random could've easily shot Yinken for the few credits he had but I could tell something else was different.

I pressed my hand to the cold pavement of the alley I slept in, and gasped.

…

I could see what happened.

Yinken was lying in the alleyway, the two dark figures from a few weeks ago had found him.

"Get up."

One of them poked him with his foot. And he grumbled for them to go away as he turned over.

They kicked him, hard.

Yinken scrambled angrily, turning around, and they removed their hoods.

Both were human, one had a tattoo, unlike the typical ones I saw in Coruscant. One had a beard, one eye, and short hair, the other bald with a tattoo across his head and neck.

"Have you seen this person?"

They showed him a hologram of me.

"Force sensitive Kiffars are pretty hard to miss, especially when they've been living with you."

Yinken shook his head.

"We know he's been here. We can pay you if you tell us where he is. Food, shelter, anything. Just tell us."

Yinken chuckled.

I was glad to know enough Gran to know how badly he had told both of these strange men they'd need to go away.

His last words were in vain, as with a blaster suppressor, they revealed a pistol, and killed him.

…

I returned back to the alley now.

Had they known I joined Harkolen brothers? If they were part of a group of some kind, one I had no idea about, were they reporting back to them?

All I knew was this innocent person, this one person who had become my friend, was dead. Because of me. I was trying to save his life, and it had cost him it.

I knew what name I'd go by now:

Yinken.

If Kinyen was the Gran's home planet, and my friend had passed, named for the backwater he was raised in and the colony's backwards progression and failure. And this backwards way in which he'd die I'd avenge him.

I would not rest until I found the men who did this to him.

If this power of mine was called the Force, I would master its use, however that may be. No matter what it took.

Because the one thing that was special to me since I realized who I was again had just been ripped away from me.

...

...

...

Author's Note:

This is my attempt at writing a Star Wars fanfiction. The idea is to help explain both Palpatine's rise to power and create a plot related more to how the Sith and Jedi worked a decade prior to Phantom Menace. I know this is a work in progress so any thoughts, criticism, or suggestions would be more than welcome. My idea is to create a protagonist working well withing the grey area to heavily impact how the Star Wars prequel series would play out, one you can root for while still realizing they're flawed.

Thank you all for reading, and I hope you all stay safe.