"You know, I STILL don' know where we're going." "Charlie, just shutup and wait for the dropoff. We'll fin dout eventually-" "We are going," said and officer," "To Kashyyyk. Specifically, Breakerbed Beach. The big one." "Wow." "They're sending the whole 100th division, I hear." "Yeah," Charlie said, "and you know, we count as two, cause we have everything flashy." Baxon caught up with them, laughing. "No tto mention you, Chaingun!" "Wello, let's just hope we don't have to wait much longer. And that I get to blow up some droids... ah, here we are . Les go." Four hours later, the last of the 100th division was landed on and aroun the west end of Breakerbed Beach. "I don't see anybody. Besides us. I mean I don't see any enemies." Baxon commented. Charlie smiled. "That means the Dark Army, buddy. No doubt about it."
"The beauty and genius of a work of film
may be reconceived, though its first material expression be destroyed; a vanished fiction
may yet again inspire the screenplay-writer
; but when the last individual of a race of living directors, of artists,
breathes no more, another heaven and another earth must pass before such a one can be again." -William Beebe, modified in memorial of the twentieth century
Su'cuy, vod, kar'laylirdarasuum me'suum!
Star Wars: The Plastic Director's Cut!