Part 32: Days 697-737: The Assault on Duros.

DAYS 697-737: The Assault on Duros.

DAY 697: Re-assessment.

: Tell me my options, Threepio.

: Well Master Meteor, you can choose between waiting for your Wookiee Assault Division to arrive to assault Duros.

: Or perhaps a different team of special operatives could succeed where past missions have failed.

: A third option would be to assemble overwhelming starship firepower and blast through their shield generator.

: With the world blockaded and without construction yards, they have no means of reinforcing what they already have.

: You are so off, Threepio.

: My choices are between beer and liquor. Liquor wins. Artoo?

: Dweeop!

: Good boy. Double scotch on the rocks. Umbrella too.

: Master Meteor...

: I know, I know. It's not right. Not a tropical, fruity mixer, but I'll take the umbrella anyway.

: You have to make a decision here, the Rebellion is in crisis mode with so many leaders captured!

: Fine. Send in some Bothans. There, how's that for decisive?

: Fwwwweeee?

: No, if I wanted a splash of lemon-lime I'd have ASKED for it, Artoo.

DAY 698

: Hey Threepio.



: See what happens when you badger people to make decisions?

: So many dead Bothans on your non-existent conscience now. Tsk tsk.

: Sometimes I wonder why I bother switching on in the morning.

DAY 702: Foreshadowing.

: Our guerilla efforts in Praesitlyn is paying off, Commander.



: The populace is with us. As soon as you can knock out the garrison, we've got the system back.

: The shield generator there precludes that. We'll need special forces to deal with it.

: That's a future problem. The now problem is Duros. You ready Luke?

: Huh? Oh, yeah.

: I'm ready for anything the Empire can throw at me.

: You sure? Absolutely anything?

: Yeah. Why?

: Just a little green birdy whispered in my ear about how you pussed out in a cave on Dagobah.

: What?!

: Yeah, heard you got a massive mindfuck down there.

: Told him I did! Laugh I shall, mwuh hah hah hah!

: You sure you'll be able to handle whatever Vader launches at you?

: I can understand if the Jedi code demands you observe pacifism and stay behind...

: Oh shut it, Sully. I've been training for months to prepare myself for this fight.

: There's nothing I won't be able to handle.

: Okay. Just making sure. Sabotage the shield generator on Duros ASAP.

DAY 705: Postshadowing.

: Bad news, Commander.



: Goddammit. What happened?

: Commander Skywalker ran into trouble. He didn't return.

: WHAT?



: The last time I saw him as we were escaping, he was hanging upside-down from a weather vane, minus his right hand and crying.

: And you just left him there?

: Well, I thought I heard a voice in my head asking for help, but I thought I was just hungry.

: That's awesome.

: We're screwed.

EARLIER

: ASSHOLES! GET BACK HERE!

: I'M IN SERIOUS AMOUNTS OF PAIN HERE!

: SHIT!

: Hello, my son.

: I've decided to make up for my lack of time spent with you.

: Come with me, Luke. Let us go play catch.

: ...

: Ah ha ha ha. I kill me.

: Bring him in, Admiral Ozzel.

: I leave you in charge, Grand Admiral. Continue with the capture of the Rebels.

: We will continue until Mon Mothma is all they have left.

: The Emperor has foreseen an attack on this planet. Prepare the defenses.

: The Wookiee attack will be amusing, Lord Vader. Nothing more.

DAY 708

: One of our scouting medium transports found an interesting system, Commander.




: Damn, an Outer Rim system? I didn't think the Empire was expanding out there.

: Clearly they have. However, it is a defenseless system, with minimal industry.

: Start building up in that sector. We have a nasty message to send.

: Master Meteor! Terrible news!

: You're pretty consistent with your news, Threepio.

: But it is terrible!









: Do we have anyone left to rescue them?

: I'm afraid not. I'm above Coruscant. Other than that? Slim pickings.

: Shit. Send in the Wookiees. Build some more infiltrators, too.

: Eleven Wookiee brigades are on their way. They'll be there in a couple weeks.

: This has not been your finest month, Master Meteor.

: Threepio? Shut up.

: Dwee, dwee dwoo.

: Triple this time. Hold the rocks.

DAY 720: Good news?

: Good news, Commander!





: The Liberator is state-of-the-art, a mix of troop transport, carrier, and assault frigate.

: With several of them loaded, we can strike anywhere in the galaxy at a moment's notice with a variety of attack vectors.

: It's a solid development.

: ...

: Commander?

: I'm afraid he cannot come to the comms, Admiral Ackbar.

: Why is that?

: Tell him I'm busy!

: I'm afraid he's busy drinking, Admiral Ackbar.

: I never said tell him what I was busy with you idiot!

: Things are dire Commander, but you have to pull yourself together.

: Oh, I'm fine. I'm just passing the time until the Wookiees arive.

: It's going to be beautiful.

DAY 724: Beauty.

: Ready.



: ATTACK!



: Defended?



: We took heavy losses, Commander, but we knocked out one of their trooper divisions.

: That special division they have is murder. We've heard them called the Dark Legion. They mowed us down.

: Damn. Try again, only win this time.



: Oh.

: We lost our Wookiees. Huh. All our Wookiees.

: Commander, we need to figure out a new plan of attack.

: GET ME MORE WOOKIEES.

: How many?

: MANY.

: What should we do with the fleet in the meantime?

: God. I don't even care. Go to the nearest system and blow things up.

: I'm so depressed.

MEANWHILE

: Grand Admiral, we have a problem. We're almost out of prison space for the Rebel scum.

: I hope you see, as I do, how wonderful a problem that is. Improvise as you can, Legion Commander.

DAY 726: Feel-Good Beatings.



: Arujei Fleet is coming out of hyperspace in Tralus. We're expecting another brief TIE defense.

: Joy.

: C'mon Commander, it'll be exciting!



: Meh.

: Shall we commence bombing? You always love that.

: Sure. Why not.



: We've hit their shipyard. Our popularity in Vagran and Xyquine has slipped, they don't like it.

: Really? Heh. Hehe. Do it again!

: Um, okay.



: No troops left planet-side, and we've taken another hit for knocking out a civilian building.

: That's actually cheering me up. Thanks Crix.

DAY 733: Fixer-Uppers.



: We've fixed the non-stop exploding problem, Commander.

: Sounds like a step in the right direction.

DAY 736-7: Low Odds.




: How'd that happen? We weren't even doing anything!

: He was inbound to the system, actually. His shuttle got shot up by our corvettes on the way in.

: Haha, retard.

: Oh, speaking of retards, it's time to pull out of this sector. Start scrapping everything we own.

: What're you talking about, Commander?

: We're going nuclear on Tralus. We'll lose popular support of Xyquine and Vagran.

: Scrap everything we own on those systems while we still own em.

: We'll use the raw materials we scrap elsewhere, and the enemy gains nothing when they win those systems over.



: I still don't understand, why will the enemy gain those systems? They support us.

: They support us now. They won't when we start genociding the hell out of the other systems in the Corellia sector.

: Genociding?

: You may fire at will, Goldy.



: Bad news, Commander.




: Nope, expected news. Nothing lost, everything gained. I like it.

: I'll expound on this plan later.

MEANWHILE

: Ahhh, the son of Skywalker. How good it is of you to join us.

: I hope that with your arrival you see the folly of your cause.

: I think not, your highness. You are already defeated. Our ships orbit this system, you have no escape.

: Escape? Escape, my young 'Jedi'? Oh, I do not think I shall be trying to escape.

: After all, the foolishness of your commander has led all your friends into our hands.

: We have two Imperial Star Destroyers searching the Outer Rim for your precious Headquarters.

: And our Noghri forces will find your, hah, 'president', and kill her.

: No, you won't.

: I am already weary of your mindless denial of the destiny I have foreseen.

: Take your weapon and end me, if you are so certain of your cause!

: Fine!

ONE BEATING LATER



: I am so embarrassed right now.

: The Force is strong with him? What were you thinking, Lord Vader?

: I don't know, my master. I foresaw he would lose, but I did not foresee the crying or heaving sobs.

: It was very uncomfortable.

: Yes it was, my Master.

: So he has been put in the cell?

: Yes. He will stay there until he realizes the power of the Dark Side.

: I am not sure it is powerful enough to fix what's wrong with him.

: This is depressing, my Master.

: Very. Echoes in the Force ripple with disappointment.

: ...

: It must be his mother's genes.

: If you insist, Lord Vader.