I almost screamed. My mouth hung open at the father's uniform: Royal Naboo Security Forces. From the Prequels.The Prequels.I was in them.
That's so awesome!! I feel my dark ambitions growing at this new revelation.
I dropped the photo, pulled a laser pistol from my PAK, and slid to a window. Outside: a serene Naboo neighborhood—gorgeous domes, soft stone reliefs—and a street clogged with wrecked B1s and bodies.
CORPSES!
I climbed out, tried to be stealthy (hard when you're neon green with glowing eyes and a pink issue uniform), and bee‑lined to the nearest body. A small pistol glinted—mine now; into the PAK.
I gripped the corpse's tunic to drag it when—
Place object within inventory?
I blinked. Inventory? Since when—Priorities. I thought yes; the body blinked out of existence.
New plan. I ran around like a headless chicken, tapping battle droids, blasters, bodies—inventory, inventory, inventory—until the street cleared. Then I ran back into the house.
I look around. why not?
Bed? Taken. Couches, chairs, books, plates, candles, blue milk? Taken.
Standing in the now bare bedroom, I summoned seven corpses. All male, civilian clothes—Naboo's homegrown resistance I imagine. Guys probably saw the droids coming and decided to put up a fight. They definitely had more respect from me than their ruler. Queen Amidala still in pacifist mode; figures.
A contemptuous curl tried to pry open my mouth—foolish worms—and that surprised me. Is this how Irkens feel by default?
I faced my palm at the first corpse. "Rise," I whispered. Something surged from my hand; the corpse's eyes went from dull to bright blue. It rolled, then stood.
Finally.OVER TEN months without magic and I was starving. I closed my eyes, tried to feel the path of mana as I raised the rest. Nothing clicked—until the seventh. I nudged the flow incorrectly and the cast fizzled; I had to recast.
HAHA look at me! 7 eternal slaves.
A billion to go.
Testing time. They held blasters like toddlers with drumsticks and preferred clawing to firing. Running? More wobble than anything. But they orders were obeyed literally, They needed incredibly specific instructions for anything more complicated then attack. Still—magic, baby. I didn'y doubt as the skill leveled their would be a few upgrades later.
For the next few hours I went house to house, stealing everything. Finding small stashes of credits as well. Why the star wars universe didn't have some type of credit card i'll never know though it felt nice holding the silver and gold colored credits.
My undead hauled droids, blasters, and bodies. Night deepened—and then blaster fire ripped the silence.
I peeked: my undead were mowed down by an organized B1 platoon, red bolts stitching the dark.
"NOOO— MY UNDEAD SLAVES!"I returned fire from the window; hot pink bolts knocked down four droids. The B1s broke form and took cover.
Right. The B1s had a Central control computer aboard the orbiting Lucrehulk. It could coordinate their tactics. Also, I was outgunned, outnumbered, and under‑PAK'd—no Invader spider‑legs, no ammo racks. Just a soldier's PAK and a sidearm.
Firing at the open B1s trying to run close to the house I manage to down a few of them. They had begun using buddy tactics, half of them firing behind cover while the other half rushed forward before finding cover.
I tried to cut down rushers, but the rest used buddy bounds—half suppressing fire, half advancing. Where was this competence during the Clone Wars, you goddam clankers—blaster bolts chewed the window frame. One grazed my antenna—I yelped—and suddenly survival beat pride. I bolted to a closet, folded down, and dropped into meditation.
Oh please sweet Force take me home, I promise not to— (lie) —abuse your power, just send me back!
CRASH!
A Door smashed in the distance; metal feet scissored in. The Force coalesced—colors dimmed—black.
I face‑planted onto the armory floor back home. Ow. Then—pure hysterical laughter.
HAHA! What a rush! I massage my antenna while exiting the room
Heading back to the armory i check the time.
Time dilation was obscene: I'd been gone hours there and about one minute here from the looks of it.
Class: Necromancer leveled. USER achieved Level 2
I dusted off before making my way to the armory and swaggered toward my bench, still giddy. Curious eyes tracked my grin, after all most guys on planet DIRT looked miserable. I pulled the droid blasters from inventory and broke them down. The tech was… fine. Comparable damage to Irken guns of similar size, but Irken tolerances made these toy‑grade. Their Tibanna gas cartridges, though—that was interesting.
Tibanna ran starship hyperdrives out there. No such thing here; the Irken Empire brute‑forced space with raw speed. If I had a hyperdrive in this universe… I'd have the fastest ship in the universe.
I pocketed the Tibanna cartridges and scrapped the rest. Then cracked three B1s and confirmed: absolute trash. An Irken recycling droid would outclass a six‑foot B1 on every scale except height. Realizing that was a bit disappointing, I had collected 59 damaged B1s only to realize the irken empire could do it better without any effort.
Disappointing, but Mechanics would still tick up from repairs. Household loot? Beds. So many beds, couches too, to be honest i was happier with the fact that i stole dozens of furniture sets more than anything.
I was already planning to go back and steal some more. I'd fight. Seemed like the class leveled on actual combat more than just skill usage.
Movie timelines were muddy—days? Weeks? Faster‑than‑light travel always had weird rules on timelines. I'd work with haste.
Now that i new i had infinite pockets i started planning.
I ran the armory "ESSENTIALS" checklist—grenades, guns, med kit, some tools just in case something broke. I dropped a note in Scat's queue: "Off shift; don't die; nachos later." He pinged back a thumbs‑up and a request for cookies. I muted him for my sanity.
The massage addicts materialized like vultures once they saw me walk into the armory though. I had to promise I wouldn't be gone for long; their shoulders shuddered just from me lifting a hand. Withdrawal's a hell of a thing. I closed shop with a sign: "Back Soon, Bring Monies." That soothed them more than I liked.
Back in my room, I sat cross‑legged. The Force spiraled; the world unspooled.
Nausea punched my gut. Blaster fire hit my ears—immediately.
Bedroom again, but the gunfire came from outside. I peeked: a platoon of B1s encircled the next building. Four damaged droids out front.
Wait. No time passed?
I retreated, chose not to tango with a platoon, and jogged the other way. My head spun with possibilities.
If I could disappear at will and lose no time there… my role in the galaxy just evolved.
Ambition relit like a furnace.
If i remember correctly the actual occupation of naboo wasn't all that long, at least the movie made it seem like a few days at most, but travel through the star wars universe could take days, so i was completely lost on the actual timeline of events. Nonetheless i had to act with haste…
I spotted a sleek land speeder in a garage, the wide kind with a row of front and back seats. I hopped in; the controls weren't Irken, but my PAK wormed a cable, found a port, and jacked in. On Irk, security would be flagged and escalate to pinging the Control Brains; here, it just assumed I was doing my job and hacking alien technology.
Seconds later, I had autopilot and a local map. I set course for an information center(library).
Roads were littered with B1 wreckage, resistance barricades, and scorched stone. The absence of bodies either meant the Naboo resistance was way better at their jobs than i thought, or someone was getting rid of evidence. It took a bit of time before i arrived.
The library was a palace of light. Boy did the Naboo really kill it with aesthetic design. The inside was more beautiful than the outside. soft blue glowing data cards that looked like books lined each other in tall towers.
The building being empty, I slid behind what looked like a custodians main desk and jacked into a terminal. The PAK pulled history, maps, cultural lexicons, local comms protocols—a buffet of context, most of it useless, but hey you never know. I stored everything.
Analyzing A map I noticed 2 things. I was outside the city of Theeds and the area I was in was pretty much entirely a suburb with a few schools, markets, and parks nearby but mostly homes.
Running outside, i jumped back into my speeder.
Time to join the plot. I set navigation: Theed.
It was time…to become a youngling, I set off!
...
Well within my smooth steady course to Theed—and then PEW in the distance became—
BOOOOM!
It suddenly dawned on me that something I had failed to account for is that the city itself was the main target of invasion. Something I realized when a loud PEW sound in the distan—-
PEW— BOOOM! Second shot would've bucked my kidneys out of my spine if i had any.
I yanked an "essential" from the inventory: rocket launcher. My small frame suddenly held a massive rocket launcher over my shoulder, the sight was comical.
My PAK connected to the weapon directly to help input targeting data; I squeezed.
A pink corkscrew missile flew beautifully across the sky and kissed the AAT.
BOOOOOOOOM.
A Pink explosion blossomed to orange. I cackled like a villain.
HAHAHA!
"FILTHY INFERIOR TECHNOLOGY! BOW TO IRKEN SUPREMACY!"
The droids disagreed with high‑velocity blaster fire. A platoon formed around the wreck; blaster fire chewed my paint job.
Petty wrath engaged. I swapped to a plasma LMG, clamped it to the speeder's railing, and sprayed. The contrasting Red blaster bolts vs my Pink plasma bolts was a glorious sight. The droids had begun taking cover as insane spray fire was hitting anything indiscriminately, I kept the throttle pinned toward the Royal Palace.
Cover finally sheltered me in the city interior. The sight of several AATs and Hundreds of battle droids patrolling lining different streets entered and exited my view as we passed by intersecting roads—until coordinated fire timed from three angles. One hover engine blew; the speeder skated across the road and punched through a wall.
Most likely the central computer timed the shots of its units together to catch me surprised.
Adrenaline kicked in. I jumped out of the wrecked speeder and began bolting toward a back exit of the building interior i had just ruined, finding myself in some kind of back alley. My PAK had an updated map and pathed a route for me to reach my destination. I began sprinting through back alleys and markets. Getting closer and closer to the Palace.
Dead B1s lined a corridor. Too late? Or just on time?
I slipped in a side entrance.
PEW PEW
My antennae picked up blaster fire in the distance as I continued sprinting through the palaces hallways. Naboo pilots rushed past; some double‑took at the tiny green kid running past them. Calls chased me but I sprinted faster.
The Main Hangar was open, and there he was—Obi‑Wan sprinting into a ship while Qui‑Gon killed his saber and spotted me barreling in.
I skidded to a panting halt. He opened his mouth—
"Master Jedi! Please hurry!"
A voice from the ship. His attention flickered.
"Please take me with you!" I blurted into Liam Neeson's immortal face.
"Master, we're running out of time!" came again. He gestured. Come.
YES! VICTORY!
I bolted aboard, past baffled handmaidens, as doors sealed and the ship lifted. Qui‑Gon guided the pilots. Realizing I'd followed, he caught my wrist, steered me aside.
"Wait here, young one."
Young?I'm an Irken soldier, I almost snapped—then actually looked at him. A tower. I was under four feet. I shut up.
It didn't take long for the ship to begin getting fired upon by the Lucrehulk blockade, I could almost hear the music from the movie playing in my mind as the voices in the other room lined up with my memories.
I let fate take the wheel on this one, or I should say I let the force take the wheel and events played out identically to the movie, Qui-Gon even deciding to head toward Tatooine. When that conversation ended the Jedi duo came up to me, Obi-wan looking extremely perplexed at my being here.
Eventually the Jedi returned; Obi‑Wan looked like he was one bad day away from turning to the dark side.
"Mind explaining what you're doing here, little one?"
Qui‑Gon gentle; Obi‑Wan annoyed. I considered my options.
Child act? Child act.
"I want to be a Jedi!" I piped.
Brows arched. "What makes you think you could be a jedi?"
"Because I can do this."
I tugged Qui‑Gon's lightsaber with the Force; it smacked my palm. He played it cool; Obi‑Wan did not. They went aside to whisper about unknown species and questionable stowaways, then decided to take me to Coruscant for review. I smiled at them, a big joyful toothy grin.
"I havn't seen your kind before young one. What are your people called?"
"I'm Irken." I beamed out with pride
"And your age?"
"…One year old."
His eyes widened. My antennae preened through the air.
—LATER—
Tatooine happened while I stayed aboard the starship, there was no arguing my way onto Tatooine like Padme did, the jedi were already unwilling to let a single handmaiden tour the planet, let alone a one year old child.
Peeking with Force Sight and dodging the Anakin chatter plague. Darth Maul cameoed near the end of the trip and I actually got to lay my eyes on him from the ships cockpit. Seeing Anakin so small hurt in a way I didn't expect. He tried to talk my antennae off too; Probably thinking i was a kid just like he was, I had to fake needing sleep and ended up watching him flirt with his future wife through walls. The wait to Coruscant was molasses; the plot, however, kept its appointments.
~
Outside the High Council chamber, I stood with a stoic female Master. Doors opened; Anakin emerged, anxiety radiating. He saw me, relaxed a tad bit.
"Good luck, Dabo."
"…Thanks, Ani." The word tasted wrong in my mouth. The Master's brow quirked.
"It's your turn," she said, guiding me in.
The Council was exactly as filmed. My brain almost went popcorn mode when I saw Mace Windu—Marvel crossovers, multiversal hijinks, Nick Fury popped into my head—when a cold wave splashed through my thoughts. Stop. The Force warned me to shut up in my mind.
Windu's scowl deepened as my panic spiked. I tried not to think about secrets and successfully thought only about secrets. Then a second wave—clarity—rolled through me. The Force helped, sliding an idea into place.
DING.
Skill gained: Force Veil (Lv 1/10).Keep your presence dim; keep your thoughts to yourself.
Relief crashed over me. Confusion flickered across a few faces. I bowed.
"Hello."
Yoda's ears tilted. "Your name?"
"Dabo, Master."
"Come before us. Why have you?"
"I wish to learn the ways of the Force and become a great warrior for my people."
"Your people—where?"
"Far Far away. I don't know where."
Windu's voice cut in, authoritative. "Your species is undocumented. Master Jinn calls you Irken? is that correct?"
"It is…"
"And what are Irkens?"
"Just like everyone else," I said, hoping "militarized insect empire" wouldn't be the follow‑up. however he didn't seem to like my response
"How did you reach Naboo?"
"The Force took me there," I said—true, if incomplete. "I was on break from work when everything went black."
"Working? Your people have you work?"…Right. Child. Honesty hummed under my skin.
"From the moment we're born," I said. The room digested that without choking—apparently not unique in a big galaxy.
Perhaps there were other such species in the galaxy far far away. Maybe my insect features implied such a cultural thing…
"Mmm and what is that device on your back?"
Silence collapsed the air. I turned, really saw my PAK—my whirring metal life: memory vault, immune system, babysitter, arbiter of me.
It was so deafening you could hear a pin drop. I almost heard some nonexistent heartbeat within myself.
"Thats...…"
"That is…."
"That is the entirety of my life."
The room set in silence, the masters slightly glanced at one another. Considering my words perhaps.
"Can you explain?"
Explain…yes i suppose i had to explain more about the irken race in order to become a jedi…
"It's gonna take a while…"
"Plenty of time…we have"
Alright…
~~~LATER~~~
They dismissed me to deliberate. I joined Anakin to sweat in the hallway.
It had taken well over an hour, long back and forth of me explaining everything. The PAK, the pinnacle of Irken Technology, my entire being, keeping me alive, housing my memories since birth! They had of course asked to analyze it but I had warned that if it was separated from my body I would begin dying, not to mention it would possibly self-destruct from any attempted probing. They surprisingly let go at the chance of studying it when they learned it would kill me.
What came next was me explaining irken social structures, our instinctual respect for height, our social relationships with other aliens. THANK GOD IT WAS PEACE TIME
I had explained much of the education system that takes place shortly after birth, and they tried to pry for more before I explained I was only 10 months old and had only seen the smallest fraction of the empire.
After they were satisfied with their question they of course told me they had much to discuss and would inform me of their decisions. So I basically went back with Anakin and waited patiently for a verdict with him.
When verdict time came, Qui‑Gon told Anakin the Council said no—too old, too attached. Then came my turn. The female Master from earlier accompanied him.
I, however, was handed to her.
The more I stared at her, the more I realized I had absolutely no clue who she was, probably destined to be one of the many dead Jedi to fall at the battle of Geonosis. Her hands were beautifully tattooed in strange sky blue circular patterns with symbols around them. She appeared to be younger than 30 and had brown hair, but her face showed a hard stoicism reminding me of Dooku. She appeared to be the all work and no play type of jedi…
Youngling quarters were a step up from broom closet to walk‑in. The room was aggressively gray. "This will be your room. A droid will bring robes."
She ghosted away before questions could spawn.
It's going to be a long few years.
I shut the door and sagged onto the slab they called a bed. Pulled up my SYSTEM
CLASS: Necromancer (Lv 3 / 100)
HP: 50 / 50
MP: 150 / 150
SP: 50 / 50
Unallocated Stat Points: 10
STATS
STR: 5
END: 5
DEX: 5
INT: 10
WIS: 15
CHA: 10
LCK: 10
ACTIVE SKILLS
Raise Undead (Lv 1 / 10)
Force Sight (Lv 4 / 10)
Force Telekinesis (Lv 3 / 10)
Force Imbue (Lv 3 / 10)
Force Heal (Lv 2 / 10)
PASSIVE SKILLS
Force-Based Skills
Force Sensitive (Lv 4 / 10)
Force Meditation (Lv 3 / 10)
Force Veil (Lv 1 / 10)
Physical / Combat Skills
Sprinting (Lv 3 / 10)
Acrobatics (Lv 2 / 10)
Climbing (Lv 2 / 10)
Parkour (Lv 3 / 10)
Brawling (Lv 3 / 10)
Melee Weapons (Lv 1 / 10)→ Knives (Lv 2 / 10)
Stun Resistance (Lv 1/10)
Marksmanship (Lv 3/10)
Ranged Weapons (Lv 3/10)→ Small Arms (Lv 4/10)
Utility / Social / Misc Skills.
Anatomy (Lv 2 / 10)
Butcher (Lv 1 / 10)
Chemistry (Lv 2 / 10)
Traps (Lv 2 / 10)
Mechanics (Lv 3 / 10)
Computers (Lv 1 / 10)
Advanced Weaponsmith (Lv 4 / 10)
Masseuse (Lv 5 / 10)
Cooking (Lv 5 / 10)
Merchant (Lv 2 / 10)
TRAITS
Mana Gifted
One with THE FORCE
2nd Mind
Robotic Stamina
Dimensional Traveler
Outside, Coruscant's traffic roared like an ocean made of lights. Inside, I palmed the room's gray walls and pictured them purple. Someday I'd have quarters in a citadel of bone and chrome, where the lights hummed. For now… robes, rules, and patience.