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MidReal Story
Star Wars: Lost Sun
Scenario:Mon Mothma is on the run from the Emipre. She is barefoot. She is looking for her old friend Commander Champion.
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Mon Mothma
She is a senator from Chandrilla and a powerful force in the Galactic Republic. She is determined, resourceful, and wise. Mon Mothma fled the Empire after learning of a plot to overthrow her. Barefoot and on the run, she seeks Champion to inform him of the danger. Despite her dire circumstances, she remains focused on serving the Republic, even as she faces capture and survival on a desert planet.
Commander Champion
He is a highranking officer in the Republic Navy. He is strong, loyal, and dedicated. Champion leads naval operations and is trusted by Mon Mothma. His bond with Mon Mothma dates back to their days as allies in the Clone Wars. He is informed of the plot by Mon Mothma and vows to act swiftly against those involved. His leadership is crucial in navigating the conflict with the Empire.
Grand Moff Tarkin
He is a highranking Imperial officer with absolute control over military affairs. He is ruthless, cunning, and ambitious. Tarkin seeks to overthrow Mon Mothma's influence and plots to use information from her capture to his advantage. His ruthless nature is evident in his willingness to exploit situations for personal gain and his disdain for those outside his control. Tarkin's actions drive Mon Mothma's need to inform Champion of the threat.
I am on the run.
My feet are bare and I am cold.
I can see the suns rising over the horizon and I know I have to move.
The desert planet stretches out in front of me, sand and rock as far as the eye can see.
I know the Imperials are looking for me.
I know they will stop at nothing to catch me.
"Keep moving," I tell myself.
"You have to find Champion."
Commander Champion is a friend, an ally from way back in the Clone Wars.
He is a good man and a brilliant naval strategist.
If anyone can help me now, it is he.
But first, I have to get off this planet.
I keep walking, trying not to think about how I got here.
How I discovered the Empire’s plan to overthrow me and fled before they could catch and kill me.
I spot a dark opening in the rock face ahead, partially hidden behind wind-carved stone pillars.
My feet ache from the rough terrain, so I approach cautiously, scanning for any signs of wildlife or Imperial scouts.
The cave entrance is narrow, but it is tall enough for me to stand in.
I press my back against the cool rock wall just inside and let my eyes adjust to the darkness.
The temperature drop is immediate and welcome, a respite from the twin suns that beat down on me relentlessly.
I slide down to sit, careful to position myself where I can still watch the entrance.
My throat burns with thirst.
I remove a small water container from my robe and take a careful sip, knowing I have to ration what little I have left.
I scan the horizon from my cave shelter, watching heat waves distort the landscape.
My throat constricts as I take another sip of water, the container now dangerously light.
Sand has worked its way between my toes, causing small cuts to sting with every shift of my feet.
A distant mechanical whine makes me freeze - an Imperial probe droid.
I press deeper into the shadows, holding my breath as its sensors sweep past my hiding spot.
The droid hovers there for several agonizing moments before continuing its patrol.
I count to one hundred after the whirring fades, then inch toward the cave entrance.
My feet throb as I crawl on hands and knees over the rough stone floor.
At the threshold, I press my back against the wall and scan the horizon through narrowed eyes.
The twin suns have shifted position, casting new shadows across the dunes.
No movement catches my eye, but experience has taught me to wait longer.
I take one final precious sip of water, leaving only a few drops in my canteen.
With resolve hardening in my chest, I step back into the relentless heat, determined to survive.
I scan the horizon from my position at the cave entrance, squinting against the harsh glare.
Through waves of heat distorting the air, I notice a cluster of dark shapes in the distance - possibly trees surrounding water.
My throat constricts at the thought of fresh water, but I force myself to wait and observe.
Using a piece of broken glass from my pocket, I reflect sunlight off its surface in different directions, watching for any movement that might reveal Imperial forces.
After twenty minutes of surveillance reveals no threats, I tear strips from my senatorial robe and wrap them around my bleeding feet.
I wrap the last strips of my robe around my bleeding feet and begin crawling toward the dark shapes on the horizon.
The rough terrain forces me to move slowly, dragging myself behind rock formations for cover every few meters.
My makeshift bandages shred against the sharp stones, but I press on.
Through my cracked glass shard, I check each new vantage point for Imperial patrols before proceeding.
The shapes gradually sharpen into distinct vertical forms, but the intense heat distortion makes it impossible to confirm if they're actually trees.
I drag myself over another ridge of jagged rocks, wincing as the bandages shred further.
The dark shapes ahead sharpen through the heat waves - what looked like shadows now reveals distinct trunks and leaves swaying in the hot breeze.
My heart quickens at the sight of silvery reflections between the trees.
I use my glass shard to scan the area again, then inch forward.
The rocky ground gives way to softer sand, offering minor relief to my raw feet.
I pause behind a large boulder, studying the grove for any sign of Imperial presence.
I drag myself behind a large boulder at the grove's edge, studying the trees for any sign of Imperial presence.
Between two gnarled trunks, I notice an overgrown trail partially concealed by hanging vines and fallen branches.
The path appears deliberately hidden, with rocks strategically placed to mask its entrance.
My parched throat tightens as I consider the implications - this could be a rebel hideout, or worse, an Imperial trap.
After using my glass shard to check for threats one final time, I begin crawling toward the hidden entrance, keeping my body low against the sand.
A sudden rustle from the underbrush halts my progress, and I freeze, heart pounding in the silence.
I hold my breath as a figure emerges from the bushes, then exhale with relief when I recognize Champion's familiar silhouette.
He rushes to me, concern etched on his weathered face as he sees my bloodied feet.
Without a word, he lifts me carefully and begins carrying me down the hidden path.
The overgrown trail leads to a small clearing surrounded by dense foliage.
In the center of the clearing stands a small shelter, its wooden structure camouflaged with branches and leaves to blend seamlessly into the environment.
Champion carries me inside, gently setting me down on a makeshift bed made of layered blankets.
He kneels before me, examining my injured feet with a mixture of concern and relief.
With gentle hands, he unwraps the shredded bandages and begins cleaning my wounds with antiseptic solution.
Once clean, he wraps my feet in proper medical bandages, securing them tightly to protect against further injury. "Drink," he says, handing me a canteen filled with cool, fresh water.
I take it gratefully, savoring each sip as it quenches my thirst.
"How did you find this place?"
I ask him, curiosity getting the better of me as I glance around the shelter.
Champion smiles knowingly.
"I created it," he explains, gesturing around the shelter.
"I knew we needed a safe haven in case things went wrong. So I used my knowledge of Imperial tactics to disguise this place."
He points to the rocks at the entrance.
"Those are strategically placed to hide the trail. And I've used overgrown vegetation to conceal the shelter itself."
I nod in understanding, impressed by his foresight.
"And what about surveillance? How did you know we wouldn't be followed?"
Champion chuckles softly.
"That's where my experience comes in handy. I've set up security cameras in various spots around the grove. They're hidden among the branches and leaves so they can't be easily spotted."
I follow his gaze upward and notice small devices camouflaged in the foliage above us.
"They're linked to a monitoring system here in the shelter," Champion continues.
"Every movement within a hundred meters is tracked," he says, tapping a small screen embedded in the wall.
I raise an eyebrow, impressed. "So you knew I was coming?"
Champion nods, a hint of pride in his voice. "Saw you crawling from a mile away."
He turns his attention to the screen, checking the security feeds.
I rest back on the blankets, grateful for the shelter's coolness after days in the scorching desert.
My feet throb despite the bandages, and I can feel dried sweat and sand clinging uncomfortably to my skin.
Through a small window, I notice a small pond behind the shelter, its water clear and inviting.
Making a quick decision, I tear away the remains of my filthy, tattered senatorial robe, leaving only my undergarments.
Champion turns at the sound of ripping fabric, meeting my eyes briefly before I limp toward the pond.
The late afternoon air sends shivers across my bare skin as I make my way down to the water's edge.
Champion watches me with a mix of amusement and concern.
"You sure you want to do that?" he asks, gesturing to the pond.
I nod, determination in my eyes. "I need to wash away more than just the dirt."
