#unidentified Weequay

[sw5w]

You're the Closest Thing I Have to a Father

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:22:09 - 00:22:10

[qweenelessar]

Short Obikin Wip I wrote, enjoy

(It's not finished and you don't get any context. It's just vibes!!)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bright and flashing neon lights, a million distorted voices coming from the holo-ads, the stuffy smell of mould, machine oil and heavy smog certainly told Obi-Wan that he had left the upper levels of Coruscant at last. Down here, at level 1313, he felt the strangers eyeing him, and the Force around them seemed to vibrate with distrust, anger and wariness - he was exactly where he knew he needed to be. As a valuable member of the Jedi Council with a reputation for clever schemes and diplomatic skills, he had been sent to investigate an underground ring of illegal weapon-smugglers. He had been shown a few faces and names and while looking around, he realised that finding the culprits would be harder than he had expected. The underground of Coruscant was just as busy as the upper levels, except that people down here knew exactly how to hide in the, mostly intoxicated, crowd.

Stepping off his borrowed speeder, Obi-Wan wrapped his robe around himself more tightly, his hood hiding his face and making him fit right in. Most people here did not like to show their faces for various reasons. He rounded a few corners, stepping over trash and unidentifiable puddles, ignoring a few strangers who called out to him. His first destination was a popular yet somewhat hidden place, located behind a few almost innocent looking dumpsters. But the flickering purple neon sign Bar caught his eye, and he slowly approached the staircase leading to the rusty door. As he had already expected, a weequay bouncer stood in front of it, giving him a sceptical look. Obi-Wan smiled as he descended the cracked steps, hidden by his hood, and simply raised his hand, making a swift movement in front of the bouncer's face.

"You'll let me in", Obi-Wan said slowly but confidently.

Only a moment later, the man stepped aside and Obi-Wan pushed open the heavy door.

Immediately, he was met by new sensations. The deep bass of the music that he could barely make out on the outside now hit him and he was greeted by even dingier lighting, a choir of mingling voices, some laughing, some cheering on the twi'lek dancers that sensually moved to the beats. Obi-Wan’s face contorted for a second when his brain registered the smells in the club. It stank of cheap alcohol, sour vomit, and sickeningly sweet perfumes that didn't do much to cover up the stench. Instinctively, Obi-Wan wanted to cover his nose, but quickly regained his composure and looked around as the creaking door slammed shut behind him, trapping him in the strange parallel world.

He looked around for a few seconds, hoping to spot one of the suspects. This particular bar seemed to attract a variety of different species and criminals, and Obi-Wan couldn’t rely on the Force to discover bad intentions. This place was basically pulsing with danger and vice.

He sighed and made his way across the crowded room, trying his best not to attract any attention from the group of sinister looking trandoshans to his left. Slowly, he sat in an empty spot by the bar, his back to the dancers. Even though he wouldn’t consider himself shy, the sight made him somewhat uncomfortable.

“What can I get you?”, a young male voice asked, seeming closer to him than it was. Obi-Wan raised his head to look at two very differently looking hands of a bartender in front of him.

He could tell that the guy hadn’t spoken very loudly, and considering the deafening music he briefly wondered why it had sounded like he was hearing his voice inside his head. It was like the man’s voice was a clear frequency from a radio and all the other noise in the bar had been tuned down to a minimum.

Not wanting to show his face, Obi-Wan held his gaze as low as possible and answered with a slightly fake voice: “A glass of quanya, thanks.”

The bartender wasn’t offended by his customer’s anonymity and simply turned around to pour him his desired drink. While the bartender was working, Obi-Wan shortly focused his Force on him and was caught off guard by the intense answer he received. The man was beaming with energy and Obi-Wan felt as if he was being both pushed away and pulled closer at the same time. It took a few seconds before he even managed to cut their short bond, and the intensity left him almost breathless.

The bartender didn’t seem to have noticed – or just didn’t care. He turned around again and with a clink he sat the little glass down in front of Obi-Wan. The latter noticed that the man’s right hand wasn’t just a different colour, it was a prosthetic.

“That’s 8 Credits.”, the man then said simply and waited for Obi-Wan to pay.

[lesbianwyllravengard]

HI um. im new here but is werlo the bartender guys real name? ive seen you use the name before and someone else used it too so i was wondering, but i dont remember it in the episode? maybe i missed it idk. i hope this isnt a weird question haha

Hello anon! Welcome to chaos! It's good to have you.

Werlo is not the Weequay bartender's canon name, it's a name I gave him to honour W. Earl Brown, who plays the character, as the he does not have an actual canon name. He's actually listed in canon as "Unidentified Weequay proprietor" which is sad bc he deserves a name, but he's just called "Weequay" (his species) in the show. It's kind of like a Willrow Hood situation, where the fans liked the character with no canon name so they gave him a name. I named him "Werlo Bonebb" as like a wack anagram of Brown's name. Here's the original post where I came up with it.

You may have seen the name elsewhere because my most lovely friends supported this naming, and decided to collectively call him that, making it easier for us to know who we're talking about. So I apologise if I ever refer to him as "Werlo" with no context; I mean the Weequay bartender dfhjdfghdj. And no one has to call him that either, I know some other people made up their own clever names for him, but Werlo Bonebb was the one I came up with. But you are more than welcome to use it, and in fact I would be incredibly honoured by it <3

[wanderinginksplot]

Nobody Listens to Kix

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Case 00687: Hondo Ohnaka

"I don't understand, sir," Kix said flatly.

General Skywalker scrubbed a hand over his face, sighing as he did so. "I don't really either, Kix."

"It is fairly simple," General Kenobi countered. "In order to receive assistance from the pirates in transporting weapons to Onderon, we had to agree to their proposed terms, some of which were rather… odd. One of the terms was to receive a health screening from a licensed physician."

Kix's head snapped up at that. "I am not a licensed physician," he pointed out immediately.

"I know," Kenobi said patiently, "but when I explained the difference between physicians and medics, he did not seem to care. He still wants a full exam, including any necessary treatment."

Kix sighed. "Very well, sir."

"Hondo doesn't trust us," Skywalker told Kix. "He wants you to examine him on his ship. We have a connection established between the ships, so you don't have to worry about him trying to fly off with you."

If Kix tried to speak, it was going to come out incredibly insubordinate, so he merely gave a salute and turned on his heel.

As he left the medbay with a travel medic's pack, Kix heard Kenobi remark to Skywalker, "It really was one of his less offensive requests."

"I don't see you volunteering one of your medics for the job," Skywalker returned, clearly disgruntled. Kix could sympathize.

When he stepped onto the ship, Kix was greeted warmly by the pirates - 'warmly' here meaning that he found himself cheered, slapped on the back and lower places, and was soon holding a rough-looking tankard of unidentified liquid with no idea who had thrust it at him.

"I- I'm here for Hondo…" he said uncertainly, trying and failing to keep the long-practiced 'stern medic' tone in his voice.

"He's in his office, of course!" one Weequay told him with a wide smile. "I'll show you the way. Follow me!"

With an uncomfortable glance around at the dim, filthy surroundings, Kix followed the Weequay through a mass of drinking, staggering, shouting, and laughing pirates. Every step brought someone else shouting, "Ohhhhh! The medic!", which was invariably followed by another round of cheers. By the time they had traveled through the winding passageways to a room whose privacy was offered by virtue of a rusty and crooked-hanging door, Kix was no longer certain he was living the same life as earlier that morning.

"Cap'n! Medic's here!" the Weequay shouted, thumping the door with enough force to knock it further out of line.

"Good, good!" a voice called from inside. "What are you waiting for? Bring him in!"

Despite Kix's expectations, the door swung open and closed without falling completely off the hinges. By that point, however, he was in Hondo's office and there was a great deal other than the impossible door for his logical mind to sort through.

"Hello, hello, my friend!" Hondo greeted, standing up behind the heavily-scarred shipping crate he seemed to be using as a desk. "Welcome to my office! Only the best for Hondo, eh? Mmm. Yes, yes! The best!"

The best chance to contract a terminal illness, to Kix's way of thinking, but as long as the Weequay was happy...

More importantly, Kix took the opportunity to study the pirate. He had heard the stories from various Jedi about Hondo Ohnaka, but Kix had always been elsewhere whenever the Weequay appeared.

He seemed fairly representative of his species. Unlike some other Weequay males Kix had seen, Hondo had allowed the bone spikes lining his jaw to grow out. His hair was styled into a series of tightly-bound braids. Above all, Hondo's weak spots were all protected, which Kix supposed was just good business practice for a pirate who enjoyed clashing with Jedi. Goggles hid his eyes, a helmet protected his head, and - like most pirates - he seemed to be wearing every item of clothing he owned.

There was an empty blaster holster attached to his hip, and Kix needed only a fraction of a second to see the blaster disassembled on one side of the desk. Kix wasn't stupid enough to believe that the pirate was unarmed, but he was obviously taking strides to make sure his terms with the Jedi appeared to be met.

"You wanted a medical exam, correct?" Kix asked, mostly to get things started.

"Yes," Hondo said imperiously, holding his arms out by his sides, dangling palms facing toward Kix to show that he wasn't holding anything. "You may scan me now."

Kix grinned before he could fight the expression. "Medical scanners, even ones made by the Republic, aren't quite to that standard yet. You'll need to remove some layers before it can read you."

"Ach!" Hondo exclaimed, clearly displeased. "Tch! You ask Hondo Ohnaka - Hondo Ohnaka - to undress? To remove my fine clothing and signs of wealth? That is what you ask of Hondo?"

"Yes," Kix told him, thinking vaguely that he could likely return to the Resolute if Hondo refused.

"Very well," Hondo agreed easily, shrugging out of his coat and removing the thick white tunic underneath. When he reached for the final item - a thin undershirt- Kix stopped him.

"That should be enough. Stay still, please." Kix selected the Weequay option on the scanner and directed it professionally down Hondo's body and back up, grimacing at the series of tones it let out before the scan had even finished processing.

"What is that?" Hondo asked curiously.

"You have some health concerns that need to be treated," Kix told him absently, trying to count the beeps and giving up as they began to overlap. "A lot of health concerns."

"Ah. Well, what are they?"

Kix puffed out a sigh as he looked over the screen. "You have several cracked jaw spikes, your spine is out of alignment, there's a bone in your hand that was broken and never healed right, there's tissue damage on your neck from what looks like a blaster injury, you have a patch of hives on your shoulder because you're allergic to a parasite found on Kowakian monkey-lizards, several of your internal organs are damaged, and your liver is severely strained." He checked the scanner. "Sorry, your second liver is severely strained. Your first liver appears to have shriveled several years ago."

"Eh, I have a third liver," Hondo dismissed.

Kix frowned. "No, you don't-"

"As for the others, what can you help me with today?" Hondo asked, peering intently at Kix.

The medic rubbed at the intricate design on his head, still staring at the scanner. "Your jaw spikes should be pulled and allowed to regrow, but I have no training on doing that, or spinal alignments. You'll need to go to a professional for those. The bone in your hand will need to be rebroken and you won't be able to use it for a few weeks-"

"Next," Hondo said with a wave.

Kix shook his head. "I can help with the damage on your neck and give you a gel to reduce the hives on your shoulder. Other than that, I can't do much for you."

"Medication?" Hondo asked. "Well, I don't like to use artificial pain management techniques, but if I have to, I suppose…"

With all the strength he had earned through his time as a medic, Kix refrained from pointing out that the Weequay was most certainly using alcohol as artificial pain management.

"Well, I'll disinfect the wound on your neck and apply a bacta patch as well as some burn gel. It looks like the area around the injury is irritated. How much pain is it causing you?"

"Oh, you would not believe the pain! You would not believe!" Hondo told him earnestly. "It is constant, unrelenting. It has stolen valuable moments from my life, time I will never regain…"

Kix, naturally, did not believe a word of it, but began to prepare the bacta and burn gel anyway. It would heal the wound and an extra pain med or two wouldn't hurt the Resolute's stores in any noticeable way.

As he disinfected the Weequay's leathery skin, Kix asked, "Why did you want a medical exam, anyway? Seems like an odd thing for a pirate to ask for."

"An intelligent businessman cares for his health," Hondo told him seriously. "It is his greatest treasure."

Kix blinked at the unexpected depth of the statement, but Hondo kept speaking. "Besides, I have a new lady in my life and she wanted me to have a full exam."

Trying to salvage what little intelligent conversation he could from the situation, Kix nodded. "Good that you have someone in your life who cares about your health."

"Yes, she is a lovely creature," Hondo said, almost dreamily. "There are certain�� activities I wish to partake in and she won't agree until she knew that there would be no... uh... repercussions. Hondo is no stranger to the less-reputable edges of the galaxy and I've learned those lessons the hard way. Why, I could tell you stories…"

There was no way to know, but Kix was certain that he had set a new record for bacta patch application speed. He handed Hondo a tube of antihistamine cream and a small container of pain meds, rattled off instructions, and left the office and the ship as quickly as he could, fighting to forget the three-quarters of a tale Hondo had managed to tell before Kix left.

After a sonic shower - gear, medkit, and all - Kix returned to the medbay to restock his travel medic's kit. Skywalker and Kenobi were waiting for him there.

"So? How did everything go?" General Skywalker asked, seeming to brace himself for the worst.

"I treated some minor injuries, advised him to get treatment for some more serious ones, and I left," Kix explained shortly.

"Did he tell you why he wanted a medical exam?" General Kenobi asked curiously.

Kix fought back a shudder. "He did. Respectfully, Generals, you're better off not knowing."

Skywalker frowned at that. "What if I make it an order?"

"Medic-patient privilege," Kix returned. He could see another disagreement forming and cut it off with a sharp wave of his hand. "And if you ordered it anyway, sir, we could all attend therapy together to save the Republic some credits."

"Ah," Kenobi said, attempting to hide his amusement with some beard stroking. "Thank you for your efforts, Kix. The Republic appreciates your service. We shall leave you now."

"Wait, General," Kix called. Both Jedi paused to look back at him. "Permission to write vaguely-worded paperwork for this file?"

"You know, I think it best to have no records of this particular examination," Kenobi said slowly, raising an eyebrow at Skywalker.

Skywalker shrugged back at his old master. "What paperwork, Kix?"

They both left the medbay without another word and Kix, with a shake of his head and another shudder, stored the medkit and pointedly turned away from the empty patient forms.

---

A/N - Happy almost new year, everyone! This is your yearly reminder to probably not party like Hondo. 

Reblog for Hondo’s luck and longevity in 2021!

[empire-at-war]

a cantina conversation

between @kaosstar‘s Hel and Vic

Hel swirled around the drink in his glass, borrowing some time to think as he scanned the cantina. This was not a direction he had expected this conversation to go. “What about the Weequay?” He didn't quite manage to keep the disgust from his voice.

Vic just laughed at his obvious discomfort in that deep, rasping voice of his. “Of course.”

Hel's teeth flashed briefly in an unidentifiable emotion. “The Nikto?”

“Why not?” Vic shrugged.

“Duros?”

“Sure.”

“Even the Trandoshan?” Hel was starting to believe he was being made fun of. Surely nobody would let himself be touched by that … thing over there. Not even someone like Vic. When his gaze went to the bounty hunter's dirty smile, however, he was no longer so sure.

[arielsojourner]

Vader Strikes Back - Part the 7th

Not beta read/really rough/not really proof read/plot holes and OUT of order.  Also spoilers for the original first story in AO3 Back From the Future: Episode VI The Clone Wars.  Check the tag #vader strikes back on my page for the other parts to this mess/fic outline. 

Trying something new with this part. Not sure if it works or if I will rewrite the whole thing. Let me know if it works.  

*

“So we made it to Tatooine,” a voice with a noticeable Mando'a accent began as the holocam view spins slowly around taking in yellow dunes and a cloudless sky. “Most of the settlements are in the northern hemisphere of the planet. I say settlements, but this is pretty much all there is in the north. Sand and looking over here, even more sand. And what’s over in the west? Sand. The south? Almost no one goes to the southern hemisphere because there’s absolutely nothing to see there either. Except sand of course. There’s nothing to see on this entire, Force-forsaken, garbage masher of a–”

*click*

“Are the scramblers in place?”

Even through the helmet, one can see the visible eyeroll that question causes. “For the tenth time Joc, the scramblers are in place. We’re good to go. As soon as He gives us the signal, we go in and we get everyone out.”

The holoimage shakes and wobbles.

“Stand still, will you?” Another helmeted figure hisses. “We’ve got the easy part.”

“You say that but where’s the signal, huh? Why hasn’t He–“

Static garbles the holo-transmission for several seconds and there is an ear shattering boom.

“Move, move!” a trooper orders and they are on the run, bursting through the subterranean tunnels and breaking down every door they can find. It’s dark and only the lights from the clone trooper helmets’ illuminate the cells and the huddle broken figures packed inside.

*click*

From the high angle of the holoimage, the viewer can see a male Crolute is standing on a raised stage before a raucous crowd, shiny datapad in hand. “I hear 32, do I hear 40? 40 peggats for this fine specimen. She’s still got some youth to her, do I hear 48? 48 to the Lady Murra, thank you for you bid. 56! Thank you, sir. Do I hear 64? She’ll earn you that back in a week, look at her!” he crows reaching over to pull off her barely closed shirt exposing her to the eyes of the crowd. “Do I hear 64?”

The girl, barely into her teens, simply keeps her head lowered. She makes no move to cover herself. She stands still and silent on the stage.

“Tell me I can kill him,” a voice mutters darkly.

“Wait, Redeye.”

“I want to kill him. I’ve got the shot. Let me take the damn shot, Captain.”

“Wait.”

“Sold!” the auctioneer roars and two Weequays take hold of the newly purchased slave and drag her from the stage. The Crolute motions for the next lot and the guards drag forth a Twi'lek child from the holding pens. The child is barely old enough to toddle on his own two feet. His face is a howling mask of grief and pain.

“Ryma!” the child cries, his hands reaching desperately behind him to the figures packet tightly into cages. “Ryma! Ryma!”

“Skrag this,” Redeye swears and the holocamera captures perfectly the moment where the guards and the auctioneer are taken out with three quick headshot blasts from sniper rifle.

“REDEYE!” a voice roars.

“Go ahead and put me on report, Captain. I don’t care!” Redeye yells back as the camera angle shifts again and again as he snipes people in the panicking crowd, taking out slavers execution style with one perfect headshot after another. “I’m not watching one more second of this kriffing, messed up–“

There is a thrum of an engine, the familiar whine of a troop transport. Air support casts a large shadow over the auction square. A dark blurry figure falls from the sky to a land amid the screaming chaos of bodies. The mic on the holocamera picks up an all to familiar snap-hiss.

*click*

“–so introduce everyone already, Echo!” the trooper out of the holoframe, but holding the camera, calls out.

“Right, so this is Xian,” Echo says pointing at one of the people sitting with him in the courtyard. They are a motley crew each standing or sitting with slug throwing rifles in their hands, braced against their shoulders, resting on their bent knees. “And this is Lore, Etamin, Kor-Joo, and Anequis. They’re here helping us with the liberation of the planet. Lots of people are willing to help, which sure makes a change from the Wars. They’re helping us organize. Say hello to the rest of the GAR everyone!”

*click*

The holoimage moves around as if the camera is being held by someone drunk.

“Put it into focus. No! Not like that! Push the other button!”

“I can do it, CT-9779! I’m not a nerf, you know.”

“Could have fooled me,” CT-9779 replies under his breath.

“Shut up.”

“Can you just let me do it? It’s my camera! I don’t want you to break it. What are you even trying to do?”

“I’m trying to– ah-ha!” The image stops shaking and then zooms in quickly on the building. Hanging by a chain from the highest tower is a bulbous blurry mass. Then the image comes into focus.

It is the body of a Hutt, dangling in the air. It is wrapped and strangled by chains, purifying in the desert heat, and covered with insects feasting on the rotting remains.

“Really? Of all the things to use my camera for, you want to take a holo of that? You think people want to see that festering pile of–“

“Are you kidding me? This is THE holo. This, right here. People are gonna want to have this framed and in their homes, I tell you. Jabba, dead at last! I only wish we’d managed to get a holo of that moment where He used the Force to wrap the chains around him and choke him to death. The look on his face!”

*click*

“Put the weapon down! Put it down!”

The richly dressed man presses the blade even deeper into the young boy’s throat. “I’ll kill him. I’ll kill him if you don’t let me go!”

“Put the weapon down and release the boy or we’ll fire!”

“We can come to an arrangement. You can take this one if you leave me be. I’m a reasonable man! I’m being reasonable!”

“Kriff you, we don’t make deals with child raping scum! Let the boy go!”

The boy who’d been hanging limp in the slaver’s grasp seems to suddenly steel himself. He raises his hands and digs his nails into the arm pinning him and turns his head, heedless of the blade at his throat and bites down, hard.

The man screams, the blade slices, blood arcs, the troopers fire.

The camera jostles and the troopers’ hands come into view, pressing against the boy’s gaping throat as he lies fallen on the carpeted floor of the lavish bedroom. “Sith hell! Get a medic! GET A MEDIC!”

*click*

Sharp cracking shots fill the air. The helmet holocamera view is partially obscured by a building wall.

“They’re above the catina!  Left Foot! Bats! Do you hear me? They’re above the cantina!”

A woman pushes the trooper aside, steps out behind the cover of the building and brings her slug throwing rifle to bear.

“Get back!” The trooper yells grabbing her and yanking her back under cover. “Xian, are you crazy? We need to coordinate, you can’t just–“

There is a sudden pop and the front of the cantina explodes into a fire ball.

Xian spits and then stands, weapon at the ready and advances into the fray.

“Skrag this! Left Foot, we’re going in!”

*click*

The holoimage is dominated by the cockpit of the fighter. Armored hands work the controls. A piece of starry space is visible through the bend of the transparisteel canopy.

“Swinging around for another sweep,” a trooper voice crackles as if heard through a long tunnel.

“Stay in formation, Kickback. We’re having a hard enough time covering the whole planet with this CAP to have you straggling.”

“Negative, Pike. I’m getting something, something from the southern hemisphere.”

“I’ve got nothing on my scopes,” another voice protests. “No one even lives in the southern hemisphere.”

A sliver of the yellow sunbaked planet is visible now through the canopy.

“I’m telling you, there’s something,” Kickback insists, priming his weapons. “Come around to flank me. I think we’ve got someone about to try and run the blockade.”

“Another feeling, huh?”

Kickback laughs. “I haven’t been wrong yet. There! Do you see? Switch to visual tracking. The engine trail. Point five.”

“They’re flying like a mynok outta hell,” Pike remarks. “Unidentified ship. You are ordered to stand down and prepare to be boarded.”

“They’re not answering and they’re not stopping.”

“I can see that Oddball,” Pike responds with exasperation. “Comm the Dauntless, tell them we have our first catch of the day. Kickback, can you--”

“Hyperspace event!” another voice shouts over the comms. “We’ve got someone coming out of lightspeed!”

“Who is it?”

“GAR cruiser, sir!”

“Blast it, forget about that! The ship is making a break for it!” Kickback yelled. “We can’t let them–!”

*click*

“Do you understand the words that are coming out of my mouth or are you just a meat sack in armor with a gun? I don’t keep slaves. Everyone works for me because they chose to,” the woman insists. “It’s a job.”  She turns and gestures to the various barely clad species huddled behind her.

“Everyone gets scanned,” the trooper insists. “Denal?”

The trooper steps forward and raises the strangely cobbled together device.

The woman stares at the scanner and her eyes widen and she pales. “L-look, I’m telling you. There’s been a mistake. This is a house of pleasure. The girls and boys here make a decent living. What’s wrong with a little companionship? You, trooper.  Denal, is it? Don’t you want to rest a bit? Spend some quality time with one or two of my employees? On the house, of course!”

The device flashes once and Denal turns the screen so the woman can see. “Employees, huh? Then why are they all implanted with transmitters and bombs?”

*click*

In the dim light it is hard to make out much, but the clone armor still stands out, reflecting back the emergency lanterns as the trooper digs frantically with his hands, a part of his own armor, and what appears to be the Force, at the side of a mountain.

“Hardcase?  Hardcase, there’s nothing more to be done.”

“They were just behind me, sir,” Hardcase explains as he strains to move more debris. “The little one, he was hanging from my shoulders. They’re probably just past these rocks. They’re probably waiting for us to get them out. We just need to dig a little bit more. We just need to prop this up with something--”

With every boulder shifted, ever meter dug, his progress is eaten away by the force of gravity, dragging down more of the mountain.

Hardcase lets out a noise of frustration. “I need some help,” he finally says. “I just need some help digging.” He turns and faces the officer who is trying to get him to stop. “Captain, is Fives up yet? What about Chatterbox? And Cooker? If they’ve recovered, we can clear the entrance together. We can use the Force and–“

“Fives, Cooker, and Chatterbox are still unconscious,” Captain Rex interrupts quietly.  “So’s Flare and Bats. They held up the mountain as long as they could. You need to rest too, soldier.”

Hardcase blinks. Then he shakes himself and turns back to his task.

“Just a bit more, Captain. They were just behind me. They’re waiting. I’ve just gotta move a few more rocks.  Just a few more, yeah.”

*click*

“Anakin? Anakin, enough now. Turn it off, please.”

[sw5w]

Come On, Ani!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:00:29

[sw5w]

The Crowd Roars

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:58:14

The podrace spectator in the bottom right corner here was featured in a close up on the 10/23/00 edition of Episode I Snapshot.

[sw5w]

Good Going, Ani!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:10:09

A few more podracers here that don’t look like they belonged to any of the racers in the Boonta Eve. Middle may be a KV9T9-B Wasp like Clegg Holdfast’s, but a different turbine.

The podracer on the far right I can’t place, it seems to have some “spikes” sticking out of its air intakes, which would be a fun parallel to real-life chariots in gladiatorial games.

[sw5w]

Anakin Makes His Way Around the Club (1 / 2)

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:23:30 - 00:23:31

Nergon14 shares this photo of Pons Lo and his similarly dressed companions, who are in the very bag of these shots, from the StarWars.com Image Attack feature back in the day.

I wonder if Pons Lo and Hat Lo are related - siblings maybe?

Nergon14 also shared this other photo from Image Attack which features Kell Borean popping up from the middle of a gaming table and "unidentified human #7/9" from the 2nd and 3rd shots.

[sw5w]

Obi-Wan Makes His Way Through the Crowd

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:33 - 00:21:34

[sw5w]

Coruscanti Passers-By

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:33

[sw5w]

Obi-Wan Hops Out

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:31 - 00:21:32

[sw5w]

Obi-Wan Exits His Speeder

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:29 - 00:21:31

[sw5w]

Anakin Dashes Through the Alley After Zam

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:27 - 00:21:28

I'm wondering if this alley could be Daring Way, mentioned in the novel Labyrinth of Evil, as one of the highest crime areas in Galactic City at its intersection with Vos Gesal Street.

And this door here on the left could even be the entrance to the Snapping Septoid cantina, first mentioned in HoloNet News as being nearby where Obi-Wan parked Senator Greyshade's XJ-6 airspeeder.

(Link to the HoloNet News article on the Wayback Machine)

[sw5w]

Zam Rushes Through the Crowd

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:21:20 - 00:21:22

Thanks to Kinto_M for pointing out the stone mite eradication kit.

I'd also like to add a bit of speculation here: maybe the Weequay trailing behind the human is part of the stone mite eradication team, as they're both wearing somewhat similar uniforms.