Part 38: Days 1106-1177: The End: Part Three.
DAYS 1106-1177: The End: Part Three.
DAY 1110: Recon.
: I deserve a raise, Commander.
: You do deserve a raise.
: Too bad you're in an all-volunteer force.
: You really know how to kneecap the help.
: Have everyone hang tight Meteor. I'll lead the teams when I get there.
: Uh, okay. Are you far?
: No, should be there soon.
DAY 1142: Luke and Punctuality.
: I'm here, let's go.
: You asshole! It's been a month without any word!
: Yeah, I made some detours at casinos to earn a bit of scratch.
: You wasted a month doing tricks at a casino?
: 'Illusion,' Meteor. A trick is something a whore does for money.
: Go capture Vader before I kill you.
DAY 1151: Aneurysm.
: They're cornered. We have dozens of spec ops. Go, get me Vader and the Emperor!
: Forces away, Commander.
: Feedback, I want the in-team comms relayed on speakers.
: Afyon here. I sense something.
: It's Vader. He has a lightsaber. I'm out of Force Twizzlers.
: Afyon, pull back and wait for Skywalker!
: It's okay Commander, take your time.
: I'll just enjoy re-eating this Snickers that spilled out of my internal organs.
: Probably...a bad...sign...but...so tasty...
: Blast! I'm too late! Vader!
: Luke?
: I'm going after him, send everyone else after the Emperor, Meteor!
: Dammit Luke...please don't make me have to come to get you.
: Sigh.
: Got him, Commander! We got him!
: I'm old, and frail. Surely you couldn't harm me.
: The Jedi Order is corrupt, they have pitted you against-
: Kill him now!
: Gotcha! Blasters up, fire!
: Wait, what? That's not what I foreSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAW
: That was remarkably easy.
: Yes, very.
: Sitrep?
: Special Forces are pulling out. Planetside looks stable.
: Keep up the pressure.
DAY 1161: A Continuation.
: Good. Now promise me, you'll capture Vader next time.
: No more distractions, no more shenanigans, no more surrenders, no more injuries, and no more deaths.
DAY 1162: Distraction.
: Hey, I can't help it!
: I'm popular.
DAY 1163: Surrender and Injury.
: Another winning effort, Commander.
: What now Han?
: This is like a nightmare. One Jedi Knight stops 25 Special Forces?
DAY 1173: This is the Last Time.
: Luke, next time you fail, I'll just build another goddamn Death Star.
: This is just silly.
DAY 1177: The End of the War.
: Alarm system deactivated.
: Moving in.
: Adjust your holocam, the image is kinda grainy and blue.
: It's supposed to be grainy and blue.
: I hate the future. Present. Whenever we are.
: Where are you now?
: The living room. This Governor's mansion is certainly spacious.
: Vader?
: Not here. Lando's Force Sensing him in the vicinity.
: Take him.
: Bang and breach in 3, 2, 1, mark!
BOOM
...
TEN MINUTES EARLIER
: This leader lead the invasion of England by the Normans in 1066.
: Who is King William.
: Who is Harold the Second?
: No. Margaret?
: Who is William?
: Yes, King William the First.
: Harold? Ah Ken Jennings, you dumbass.
: Ozzel, have you done the dishes yet? I need a knife to cut this bread.
: Er, no Lord Vader, I was waiting until it was completely full to *ACK*!
: You have failed me for the third-to-last time, Admiral.
: Now I'll have to cut it with my lightsaber.
BZZZZZZWOOO
: ...car manufacturer's Charger was re-introduced as a four-door model, much to the dismay of muscle car fans.
: What is Dodge.
: What is Dodge?
: Yes.
: All too easy.
SKRRRNKT!
: OW! OWWWWWW! My hand! I cut off my hand!
: Should I call for the doctor?
: Oh, yes, these wires sticking out really suggest a doctor will help the situation.
: Get me a goddamn mechanic! Fast!
: What, it's just a hand.
: Losing a hand is fatal?
: Yes!
: Why that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.
: Is a paper-cut a life-threatening condition?
: That's it!
: *gack!*
Back to the present.
: Clear!
: Clear here!
: Found him! Kitchen!
: Target is down, he was down before we got here.
: Another target on location too, looks like Ozzel, D.O.A.
: What? Vader's down?
: His arm's been severed, it's smoking. He's alive, but weak. Luke's on his way.
: *cough*...Tell Luke I want him to...
: Give you a Viking funeral? Okay.
: *huph*...no...my mask...
: Yeah, burn the mask. Get the pyre ready Kaiya.
: Are you...always this annoying? *cough*
: You know what, a pyre would just take way too long.
: Garm, see if you can't fit him into the fireplace.
: Folding may be necessary.
: Sweet release...
Five Minutes Later
: I'm here, where's my father?
: Um...
: Han help me out here.
: Hey kid, remember how the old man disappeared back on the Death Star after Vader offed him?
: Yeah, he became one with the Force.
: Same thing with Vader.
: No...father...
: Huh. What's that awful stench?
: Why don't you come back up here for the debriefing. Right now.
: It smells like-
: NOW.
Rebellion Victory video, with a space battle far better than the actual gameplay ever treats us to!
And that's how the war ended.
There were the parades. The celebrations seemed endless, but the post-victory hangover did come one day, and it hit hard.
I watched the political flip-floppery of the head players. Borsk and Garm disagreed with Mon Mothma and Leia about how to rule. Luke went off to do his own thing with Jedi. Different offices were created and staffed by war heroes.
And one day, I was finally notified with where my place in this whole mess would be.
I was a bit apprehensive at that point, to be sure. I had rankled many senses, and made several enemies. Let's be honest, lots of enemies.
But then I was notified I was to command the Republic's newest and most technologically impressive Starship.
The Eureka.
I was eager to see my new warship.
If it was deadly enough, it would be easy enough to restart my mercenary business.
I did like me some mercenary work. And I saw nothing wrong with a warship as my pay for this little war I won. I already had my XO with the ever-eager LT Page.
And then I saw the Eureka.
: What the FUCK?
: Is that a garbage scow?
: With Mon Mothma's compliments, I wager.
: Seriously? I will ram this up her ass.
I went inside, hoping against hope maybe I was wrong, and there was actually a warship inside. Hope is a strange drug, much like speed.
: Hello? Anyone in here?
: Ah, good, the new Captain.
: I'd been shivering it utter anticipation.
: I am so glad that what has appeared has exactly matched my enthusiasm.
: ...
: Oh, right. Whee.
: Uh huh. Quiet down there Droole, I'm doing my nails.
: Um...okay.
: Who are you two?
: I'm Droole, I handle the navigation and weapons.
: Weapons? What kind of weapons?
: Oh goodie, you share my desire to unleash random firepower throughout the galaxy.
: And you?
: I told you I'm BUSY.
: That's Flo. She's your communications officer, when she's not busy.
My new crew was unruly. My only hope was to win their respect with a powerful speech.
I had one chance.
: Oh, you're one of THOSE.
: Those?
: Idiots.
: Sigh.
: Well? Got a plan or destination?
: I don't know, honestly.
: I think I'm paralyzed with rage, blind and unyielding.
: I get that way after a few drinks.
: Cliffy, the last time we hit Paradiso Prime you decked the bartender, stone sober.
: But you heard what he called our ship!
: For the LAST TIME, we ARE a garbage scow.
: Sigh.
: There's one lesson I learned from you in the war, Meteor.
: What's that?
: When in doubt, go with what you know.
: Kill and bill? Yeah, you know what, you're right.
: Droole, set course for Tatooine. We've got some mercenarying to do.
: Will that involve a lot of mayhem and blasting?
: Yes it will.
: Captain, I think you and I will get along juuuuuust fine.
THE END