Post by Darth Kairos on Apr 16, 2016 11:43:47 GMT
Alarms wailed throughout a hundred ships and a million cubic kilometers of shipyard.
Deep in the heart of the flagship, an old Dreadnaught with squared-circular edges named Peregrine, an aide ran frantically through the corridors. Finding his door, he threw it open and burst into the room of his officer.
"General! A Union fleet just dropped out of hyperspace! We're under attack!"
Boots on his desk and his eyes on a copy of Fornax, Garm bel Iblis licked his finger and turned a page. "Well don't just stand there shakin'! How many we dealing with?"
"Too many! Hundreds! They have a Super Star Destroyer! Sir, we have to retreat, we have to run!"
The General took his feet off the desk and froze his aide with a glare. "I'm the man that made the Alliance famous, brother. I fear no man, no beast or evil. Get to your post and strap into your webbing, things are about to get rocky!"
Tossing the magazine in the trash, bel Iblis stood and smacked a panel that broadcast his voice across all of the Fondor system.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS GENERAL GARM BEL IBLIS WITH YOUR DAILY NEWS. TONIGHT'S WEATHER FORECAST: OVERCAST WITH A ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CHANCE OF PAIN!"
---
"Have the fleet adopt formation Zulu-2," Verna Occantir ordered from aboard the Xendor. "Split off two squadrons to attack the outlying installations - we shall draw their fleet to us to divide and conquer."
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
"At once sir!" his chief aide replied crisply. "Starfighter squadrons are launching to assume screening formations...uhm, sir, do you hear something outside?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
"Hear something? Lieutenant, we are in space. I trust you are aware sound does not travel in space?"
"I know sir, but I'm sure I - WHAT IN THE NAME OF XAOS IS THAT!?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
"ALL POWER TO BRIDGE DEFLECTORS!" Occantir roared.
"TOO LATE!" his aide screamed, diving into the command pits.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
---
"Battlegroup Stingray has been destroyed!"
"Alliance fleet holding position!"
"Starfighters are popping like balloons!"
"We just lost another ISD!"
Struggling to retain control of the situation, Darth Lucifer barked orders, moving ships up, squadrons to new positions, watching as their dots blinked out of his displays one by one. A third of their fleet gone, another third barely operable! How was this possible!? Some new Jedi weapon!
"It's stopped, sir."
Confused, Darth Lucifer checked the displays again - his fleet, decimated, was holding where it was, deathly still. Reprieve! Seizing the chance, he began re-organising the shredded ships into a new battle line-
CLONG!
The entire bridge froze.
CLONG!
Lucifer spun, in time to see a third, fist-size dent warp into the bridge doors.
CLONG!
He drew his lightsabers.
CRASH!
The door came flying straight at him, bowling aside his bridge crew - but his lightsabers cut it into five pieces.
"YOU BETTA EAT YOUR VITAMINS AND SAY YOUR PRAYERS!"
A bomb exploded in his face (again) and flung the Dark Lord across the room, his lightsabers flying uselessly out of his grip. Skidding to a stop, Lucifer raised his head weakly to see Garm bel Iblis standing where he had been, shaking his hand out. The terrified bridge crew running for cover, the General swaggered up to the Dark Lord, swatted aside his hands, and hauled him up by the scruff of the neck.
"FONDOR'S MY TERRITORY SON, AND I DON'T TAKE KINDLY TO GUESTS WHO OVERSTAY THEIR WELCOME. SO LEMME ASK YOU SOMETHIN' BROTHA - WHACHA GONNA DO WHEN THE GARMSTER RUNS WILD ON YOU?"
---
"Union fleet is withdrawing," the aide cried, amazed. The Peregrine's first mate grinned, in command in the General's absence. "Excellent. Starfighters return to their hangars - all ships, stand down. There'll be no further danger - ah, General! Fine work as always."
"THAT OUGHTA BE A LESSON TO THEM," Garm bel Iblis declared, striding onto the bridge with a towel around his neck and the memory of shirts completely forgotten by his barrel chest. Awed, the aide stared at him, then out the window to where the black prow of a Super Star Destroyer floated aimlessly by.
"General..." he asked, breathless. "...How? What did you do out there?
"I LET 'EM OFF WITH A WARNING."
Deep in the heart of the flagship, an old Dreadnaught with squared-circular edges named Peregrine, an aide ran frantically through the corridors. Finding his door, he threw it open and burst into the room of his officer.
"General! A Union fleet just dropped out of hyperspace! We're under attack!"
Boots on his desk and his eyes on a copy of Fornax, Garm bel Iblis licked his finger and turned a page. "Well don't just stand there shakin'! How many we dealing with?"
"Too many! Hundreds! They have a Super Star Destroyer! Sir, we have to retreat, we have to run!"
The General took his feet off the desk and froze his aide with a glare. "I'm the man that made the Alliance famous, brother. I fear no man, no beast or evil. Get to your post and strap into your webbing, things are about to get rocky!"
Tossing the magazine in the trash, bel Iblis stood and smacked a panel that broadcast his voice across all of the Fondor system.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS GENERAL GARM BEL IBLIS WITH YOUR DAILY NEWS. TONIGHT'S WEATHER FORECAST: OVERCAST WITH A ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CHANCE OF PAIN!"
---
"Have the fleet adopt formation Zulu-2," Verna Occantir ordered from aboard the Xendor. "Split off two squadrons to attack the outlying installations - we shall draw their fleet to us to divide and conquer."
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah
"At once sir!" his chief aide replied crisply. "Starfighter squadrons are launching to assume screening formations...uhm, sir, do you hear something outside?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
"Hear something? Lieutenant, we are in space. I trust you are aware sound does not travel in space?"
"I know sir, but I'm sure I - WHAT IN THE NAME OF XAOS IS THAT!?"
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
"ALL POWER TO BRIDGE DEFLECTORS!" Occantir roared.
"TOO LATE!" his aide screamed, diving into the command pits.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!
---
"Battlegroup Stingray has been destroyed!"
"Alliance fleet holding position!"
"Starfighters are popping like balloons!"
"We just lost another ISD!"
Struggling to retain control of the situation, Darth Lucifer barked orders, moving ships up, squadrons to new positions, watching as their dots blinked out of his displays one by one. A third of their fleet gone, another third barely operable! How was this possible!? Some new Jedi weapon!
"It's stopped, sir."
Confused, Darth Lucifer checked the displays again - his fleet, decimated, was holding where it was, deathly still. Reprieve! Seizing the chance, he began re-organising the shredded ships into a new battle line-
CLONG!
The entire bridge froze.
CLONG!
Lucifer spun, in time to see a third, fist-size dent warp into the bridge doors.
CLONG!
He drew his lightsabers.
CRASH!
The door came flying straight at him, bowling aside his bridge crew - but his lightsabers cut it into five pieces.
"YOU BETTA EAT YOUR VITAMINS AND SAY YOUR PRAYERS!"
A bomb exploded in his face (again) and flung the Dark Lord across the room, his lightsabers flying uselessly out of his grip. Skidding to a stop, Lucifer raised his head weakly to see Garm bel Iblis standing where he had been, shaking his hand out. The terrified bridge crew running for cover, the General swaggered up to the Dark Lord, swatted aside his hands, and hauled him up by the scruff of the neck.
"FONDOR'S MY TERRITORY SON, AND I DON'T TAKE KINDLY TO GUESTS WHO OVERSTAY THEIR WELCOME. SO LEMME ASK YOU SOMETHIN' BROTHA - WHACHA GONNA DO WHEN THE GARMSTER RUNS WILD ON YOU?"
---
"Union fleet is withdrawing," the aide cried, amazed. The Peregrine's first mate grinned, in command in the General's absence. "Excellent. Starfighters return to their hangars - all ships, stand down. There'll be no further danger - ah, General! Fine work as always."
"THAT OUGHTA BE A LESSON TO THEM," Garm bel Iblis declared, striding onto the bridge with a towel around his neck and the memory of shirts completely forgotten by his barrel chest. Awed, the aide stared at him, then out the window to where the black prow of a Super Star Destroyer floated aimlessly by.
"General..." he asked, breathless. "...How? What did you do out there?
"I LET 'EM OFF WITH A WARNING."