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?
: 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?
: No, if I wanted a splash of lemon-lime I'd have ASKED for it, Artoo.
: 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.
: 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.
: 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.
: ASSHOLES! GET BACK HERE!
: I'M IN SERIOUS AMOUNTS OF PAIN HERE!
: 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.
: 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.
: 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.
: 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.
: 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?
: 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.
: 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.
: C'mon Commander, it'll be exciting!
: 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.
: 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.
: 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!
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.