by Angela Jade

Disclaimer - it all belongs to LucasArts, apart from the song, which belongs to Monty Python & friends.  I’m making no money from this.

Rating - G.

Written in reply to RB1 & Mac’s challenge on the fanfiction forum at the SWC ezboards:
“... your story should (at least partly) take place in the swamps of Naboo.  Greedo and Palpatine/Sidious are two of your characters.  And somewhere in the story you need to mention a hamster ball, two plane tickets to Scotland and a musical number.”
The next time anyone hears me say "I can write anything", please remind me to keep my big trap shut!
 
 
 
 
 

Shrouded in a black cloak, the silent figure stalked through the luscious undergrowth.  Small rodents frantically scuttled out of his path and avians ceased singing, leaving only the sound of the wind whispering through the trees.  The figure stopped.  “It’ll have to go.”

He turned slowly to watch his small, green companion scurry toward him.  “Mister Greedo,” he intoned, “your company claimed this planet was technologically advanced.”  He waved an arm irritably at the nearby swamp, stirring up an angry swarm of buzzing insects.  He ignored them.  “This is not what I would call advanced.  In fact, it’s decidedly primitive.”

The Rodian finally reached him, his long snout twitching as he frantically sucked in air.  “Ta woana cheeza...”

“In Basic, please,” his client barked.

Greedo grimaced and quickly switched on his translator.  “Humblest apologies, your honor, Mister Palpatine, sir.”  He squinted, trying vainly to see the man’s features inside his voluminous hood.  “The Outer Rim Real Estate Conglomerate was accurate in their claim.  We are aiming for Theed City, the capital of Naboo.  I just thought you might like to take the scenic route...”

“Well, you thought wrong.  The planet I eventually choose must have certain ... amenities.”   His voice dropped to a low growl.  “And nature is not one of them.”

“Of course, sir.  Of course,” groveled Greedo, bowing in deference.  “Naboo has many of the features you require, sir.  Its ship construction industry is one of the most advanced in the galaxy, its communication and holonet services are more than adequate for your needs,...”

“Fine, fine,” replied Palpatine, almost tripping over a fallen log in his haste to get away from the Rodian.  He had no desire to listen to Greedo in ‘salesperson’ mode.  “And you say the planet is entirely inhabited by humans?”

“It is, sir, it is,” said Greedo, his head bobbing at every word.  “Only humans.  As you requested.”

“Good.”  Palpatine’s attention was suddenly dragged from the undergrowth beneath his feet by a loud whistling noise.  His head snapped up as he scanned the sky for the source of the noise.  “What’s that?”

The whistling grew louder and louder, and finally he spotted a glowing purple ball arcing its way over the swamp - headed straight for them.  Quickly calculating its trajectory, Palpatine stepped back out of range.

A high-pitched voice echoed across from the ball’s point of origin.  “Oopsies.”

“Jar-Jar!  Yousa idiot!” another, lower voice could be heard to reply.  “Whena yousa learn to aim?”

“Iss okay, sah!  Issa dud!  Look!”

Sure enough, at the highest point of its arc, the purple ball gave a huge ‘pop’ and disappeared.  Almost.  The shell that had contained its energy continued the flight and landed with a ‘thunk’ at Palpatine’s feet.

Bending down, he picked up the clear, plasteel ball in one pale hand and waved it in front of Greedo’s snout.  “And what in all the hells is this?”

Greedo took a couple of tentative sniffs before gazing up at his illustrious client.  “Umm, hamster ball?”

“Hamster ball?  What’s a hamster?”

“Local rodent, sir.”  His green face lit up as an idea hit him.  “Makes its nest in the balls, sir.  If the inhabitants find one, they like to see how far they can fire it.  For sport, sir.”

Palpatine continued to turn the transparent ball over and over in his hands.  “Are you sure it’s not some kind of weapon?”

“Oh, no, sir.  Hamster ball.”

The dark hood seemed to watch the small Rodian for some time, before Palpatine finally dropped the ball and stalked away, muttering under his breath about rodents, hamsters, and pathetic lifeforms.
 

By the time they finally reached Theed, Greedo had turned on the sales pitch once more and Palpatine was struggling to tune out the Rodian’s buzzing voice.  Wisps of blue lightening sparked at his fingertips and his teeth clenched inside his voluminous hood - somehow, some day, the irritating creature would get what was coming to him.  But only after he had closed the deal.

“And this, my lord, is the main thoroughfare that leads to the Royal Palace.  It boasts a wide selection of libraries, museums and theaters and, as you can see, the architecture is fabulous.  If you’ll follow me...”

“What do you mean ‘Royal Palace’?” growled Palpatine.  “You told me the leaders of Naboo were elected.”

Greedo’s snout quivered and he took a couple of nervous steps backwards.  “Umm, they are, your honor.  Elected.  The head of state.”

“They elect their king?” queried Palpatine.  “How often?”

“There’s an election coming up next year, sir,” replied Greedo, grinning hopefully.

“There is?  How very interesting...”  The dark hood appeared to study the massive palace for a long moment.

His machinations were rudely interrupted by a loud squabbling.  Two figures, one in a natty blue and red leather ensemble, the other dressed in orange with ridiculously wide lapels, strode quickly toward him.

“I’m telling you, Panaka,” said Mr. Lapels, “the planet is one big city.”

Panaka rolled his eyes at his enthusiastic companion.  “It’s Scotland, Ric.  It’s not even a planet.”

“What do you mean, not even a planet?”  Ric waved two plasfilm strips under Panaka’s nose.  “Of course it’s a planet.  Why else would His Majesty send us there?”

“It’s a country, Ric.  Only a small part of a planet.”

“Is it one big city, then?” asked the smaller man hopefully.

“Nope.  A few little ones, and lots of countryside, so I heard.”  He frowned as something on the strips caught his eye - he grabbed the tickets and held them up to the light.  “It says ‘plane tickets’ here.  What’s a plane?”

“No idea,” replied Ric.  “But I bet I can fly one.  I can fly anything.”

“No, you can’t,” muttered Panaka.

“Can!”

“Can’t!”

Palpatine watched the two figures wander off, still bickering.  Slowly, he turned his attention back to Greedo.  “Tell me those two clowns are not in any positions of power.”

Greedo wisely decided against asking for a definition of ‘position of power’ and figured he’d just risk the truth.  “Going by their uniforms, they’re a pilot and a guard-officer.”

“Not from the local circus, then?”

“Nope.”

Inside the hood, Palpatine smiled.  A planet run by idiots.  Just how he liked them.  “Anything else you wish to show me?”

Greedo whipped out a small datapad from a hidden pocket and peered intently at the data scrolling across the screen.  When he looked back up, his eyes were shining.  “I think we’ve covered everything you requested, sir.”

“No other surprises that I should know about?”

A door banged open further up the street and Greedo’s snout twitched nervously.  “Not that I know of...”  His eyes widened as two brown-robed figures fell out of the doorway, laughing uproariously.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, sir,” replied Greedo loudly as he tried to be heard over the ruckus.  Several more figures followed the first two.

Palpatine slowly swiveled on one foot as he regarded the newcomers.  One arm raised, seemingly of its own volition, and a pale, quivering finger pointed at the increasing number of humans.  All were dressed in varying shades of brown and beige, and each wore a belt sporting a lightsaber.  “Those are ... are ... Jedi!”  he spat.

Greedo’s already taxed brain went into overdrive.  “No, no, no!  They are...”  He scrabbled about in his mind for a believable excuse that would not incur Palpatine’s legendary wrath.

Fortunately, it wasn’t necessary.

The dusty figures quickly spotted their ‘audience’ and formed themselves into a ragged, if somewhat drunken, line, and bowed low.  One fell over completely and lay, unconscious and ignored, on the road.

“What is this?” hissed Palpatine.

The ‘Jedi’ quickly linked arms and began high-kicking their way toward Palpatine and his trembling Rodian companion.  Then they started singing...

“We're Jedi Knights of the round table, we dance when e're we're able.
We do routines, and chorus scenes with footwork imp-e-cable;
We dine well here in Camelot, we eat ham and jam and spam a-lot.”

Palpatine glared at Greedo.  Greedo watched the advancing singers with a look of abject horror.

“We're Jedi Knights of the round table, our shows are for-mid-able
But many times, we're given rhymes, that are quite un-sing-able
We're opera mad in Camelot, we sing from the diaphragm a-lot!”

Palpatine scowled at Greedo.  “Well?”

“Local ... umm ... amateur dramatic society, m’lord.”  He made a mental note to check later.  Just to be on the safe side.  The quicker this deal was closed, the better.  The stress was going to give him a stroke.

“And where is this ‘Camelot’ of which they sing?”

“Don’t know, sir.  Sounds like a silly place, if you ask me.”

“Dramatists,” whispered Palpatine in disgust, frowning at the singing ‘Jedi’ as they danced past him.

“Very entertaining, sir.”  He tried not to cringe as the black hood turned to face him once more.

“That is debatable,” said Palpatine.  He lifted his head and scanned the surrounding buildings.  All was not quite as it seemed here, and the idiot Rodian was definitely hiding something, but the locals seemed harmless and the planet’s placement on the galactic map was perfect.  His sigh was audible, as the ‘Jedi’ had turned a corner and could now barely be heard.  It would have to do.  Prospective galactic emperors couldn’t be choosers.

Turning back to Greedo, he slipped his hands inside his voluminous sleeves.  “Very well.  I’ll take it.”

“You will?”  Only Greedo’s professionalism stopped him dancing a merry jig in the middle of the street.  “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed, my lord.”

“I’d better not be,” Palpatine growled ominously.

“There’s just one more thing, sir.”  Greedo’s ears twitched in anticipation.  “The ... ah ... deposit?”

Palpatine pulled a small datacard from one sleeve.  “Coruscant Express?”

Greedo’s grin threatened to wrap itself round the back of his head.  “That’ll do nicely.”