From: "LT.Hit-Man" Newsgroups: alt.startrek.vs.starwars Subject: [FAN FIC] How to deal with a starfighter thief Date: Tue, 1 Aug 2000 14:35:38 -0400 *Start Imperial March theme song, fade up to Imperial Logo* How to deal with a starfighter thief. Starring LT.Hit-Man Special guest victim Chris O'Farrell *Cut to the hangar bay of the Tatooine garrison base, where a legion of Stormtroopers are standing at attention.* Chris O'Farrell, operating number DS-69, was sweating under his stormtrooper armor. Not only because of his hangover, but also because of what he had done on a dare from the rest of his squad mates when they had gone on a huge drinking binge after finally getting some R&R leave. Leave that had him and his squad of plastered troopers out taking potshots at the fleeing Jawas after they had disabled their sandcrawler. Yes, thing had been fun and games until one of the other troopers put the dare to him, and soon the rest of the squad was calling on him on the dare. Chris had told his squad mates that they were out of their kriffing skulls for even thinking of such a dare. But, as per the traditions of an old drinking game, after he shot down a Jawa he would have a drink of Sladagga (Tatooine moonshine), as did the rest of his squad mates. By the time the last of the dirty runts bit the brisket via a blaster bolt to the back, Chris was so shit- faced that the dare that his squad mates had tried to put him up to did not seem like such an insane idea after all. Once they got back to the garrison, he accepted. So, Chris staggered around the hangar bay of the Imperial garrison, waving and wobbling in between the rows of TIE fighters until he made his decision. Unfortunately for him, he chose poorly. *Cut to a side door within the hangar opening. Walking through it is one very annoyed cyborg stormtrooper in blaster-scarred armor.* LT.Hit-Man looked over the rank and file of stormtroopers that were standing there. Within their ranks was the one who had annoyed him. "One of you low-down bantha-kriffing jerk-offs took my personal ship _The Fearmeister_ out for a joyride," he snarled loudly as he walked past the front line of the suddenly uptight stormtroopers. He walked along the second row of stormtroopers as the ones he was walking behind began to sweat even worse then before he had passed them by. "I want the name and operating number of the trooper, NOW!" LT.Hit-Man yelled with such malevolence that a lesser man would had soiled themselves, but thanks to their harsh and intensive training they stood still, as still as if they had been carved from stone, not even flinching at the sound of the mad Dark-Side-of-the-Force-using cyborg's voice. _Not bad. At least they lasted longer then the last legion of stormtroopers that had gotten on my bad side,_ LT.Hit-Man thought as he finished walking past the second row of troopers. _This is going to be so much fun._ He started walking past the third row of stormtroopers; so far, they had not cracked as he put the needle to them, but sooner or later they would. LT.Hit-Man suddenly stopped and a deathly silence descended on the hangar bay. "Was it you?" LT.Hit-Man snapped as he suddenly turned to face one of the stormtroopers. He got up into the other's face, his scarred visage less then a centimeter away from the luckless stormtrooper's helmet-covered head. The doomed trooper suddenly felt the need to scream, but his Imperial training put a stop to that. Until LT.Hit-Man smiled, that is. That smile you usually have on your face when you have the bad luck of having to sit across from a hated in-law at a family dinner. You know the kind I'm talking about; the one that makes you look like that your being chivalrous, but all the while you are thinking of the most slow and painful way to put said in-laws out of your misery. "It was Chris O' Farrell operating number DS-69!" Trooper Brotoss, operating number DMVTREK-202, screamed in a girly voice. He felt like his bladder was about implode as LT.Hit-Man's scarred, smiling face danced in his line of vision like a long forgotten nightmare suddenly remembered. "Is that so?" LT.Hit-Man said as he slowly reached out for the wimpy stormtrooper. He ripped Brotoss' helmet off, enjoying the way the helmetless trooper flinched as his headpiece hit the floor before it skidded to a stop by a stack of fuel drums. "If there is one thing I hate worse than a thief, it's a stinking coward!" As he dragged the snivelling man by his nostrils over to a parked speeder bike. He broke the doomed man's kneecaps with two swift kicks of his cybernetic foot, enjoying the man's pitiful pain-filled cries. The rest of the gathered stormtroopers watched as LT.Hit-Man pulled out a coil of zipline and looped it around the thrust flaps of the Aratech-74-z speeder bike. Then, he grabbed the soon-to-be-dead trooper's feet and looped the free end of the line around them while leaning on the man's shattered kneecaps all the while, causing a fresh round of agonized screams that warmed the loony LT's ice cold heart. "Quit yer bitchin'! It's only a flesh wound!' LT.Hit-Man snarled as he took the time to slap the screaming man in the face, splitting his lip wide open in a small spray of blood and rattled teeth, before he tied the loose end of the line that was wrapped around the man's feet in a clove hitch knot. With a manic grin on his face, LT.Hit-Man jumped on the speeder bike, revved it up a few times and started to snicker as he saw the rank and file of the standing stormtrooper jump every time he revved the speeder bike. The hog- tied man's screams for mercy made a nice counter point to the speeder bike's roaring engine. "You all stay put, I'll be back in a bit, ya hear?!" LT.Hit-Man shouted over his shoulder before he opened the speeder bike's throttle to full and shot out of the hangar bay in a pop-a-wheelie, dragging the tied man behind him. The rest of the troopers could not stand there any longer and they ran to the edge of the hangar bay doors to see the speeder bike zooming over the sandy terrain, kicking up huge clouds of sand every time the trooper scraped along the ground. LT.Hit-Man threw the speeder bike into a steep climb as the luckless stormtrooper started gagging, trying to clear his sand-filled throat. "Ya hanging in there, chuckles?" LT.Hit-Man said over his shoulder to the flailing man as they went higher when, out of the corner of his eye, he spied a window. A truly nasty idea entered his mind, and with an equally nasty smile he headed away from the window that was at least three stories up above the ground level hangar bay he had taken off from. Garrison commander Joton "Boners" Simaltol was in his office pouring himself a steaming mug of caffa. It had been a bad night for him; hell, it had been a sleepless week for him ever since LT.Hit-Man had came to Tatooine to inspect the base on the orders of the Imperial High Command. Everything went downhill after that. Apparently, hyperspace travel did not agree with LT.Hit- Man, as one luckless tech found out the hard way; the tech had made the mistake of sweating in LT.Hit-Man's presence on the first day the feared Sith Lord arrived. Joton took a sip from his mug as he tried and failed to wash the images of what was left of the doomed tech. What was left after LT.Hit-Man had him clean out the dewback pens as the female animals came into heat. He sat down, finishing his mug of caffa, and began to read the daily section reports for all of the garrison base. About halfway through the report, he heard something. Slowly, he put down the data pad as a wave of unreasoning dread began to chill him to the bone. Joton slowly turned around as the howling whine of a speeder bike steadily grew louder and louder. LT.Hit-Man whipped the speeder bike around to face the window, kicking up the throttle to the max and shooting towards the window like a guided missile. His smile grew as he saw the garrison commander through the transparisteel. "Whip it, I said whip it, whip it good!" Trooper Bortoss heard over the screaming whine of the speeder bike. Then it dawned on him what LT.Hit-Man had in mind. He watched hopelessly as the LT slammed the speeder bike into a hard ninety-degree turn. "NHAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!" Bortoss screamed as he was snapped around like a rag doll to face the window of his CO's office, a window that loomed closer and closer into his vision with each passing second. He watched as the commander turned slowly to face him, a look of dread, horror and fear on his face. Joton finished turning around. The window cracked in a spider web pattern with a loud "WHOOPPFFF!" as Trooper Bortoss slammed into it. Joton saw the look of pure terror on the doomed man's pale face before it exploded all over the cracked window in a spray of blood, shattered bone and other gory bits of once living bio-matter. There was an obscenely loud squeaking sound, much like someone polishing a window with Windex, as what was left of the splattered trooper was dragged along the cracked window, leaving an ugly red streak. Joton felt his bowels release, then everything faded to black as he suffered a massive heart attack. But the Dark Side was not yet done with him. The door to his office opened and one very scared watch commander walked in to inform him of LT.Hit-Man's latest outburst of randomly shocking violence, but his words died off as he saw Joton lying on the floor. He quickly called for a medical team to get their asses up to the office; it had been a close thing, but the med team managed to revive Joton, much to his regret. LT.Hit-Man pulled the speeder bike into a climb as he reached the top of the Imperial garrison, weaving through the communication array antennas. Once the zipline attached to his speeder bike was firmly wrapped around the antennas, he grabbed his lightsaber, ignited it and cut the end off, leaving what was left of the depressed trooper that had been hanging around with him to fry in the noontime heat of Tatooine's twin suns. "Damn it! Now what?" once of the comm-techs muttered as the feed for the Space Bunnies channel went static and started to fade out. The Space Bunnies channel was the pre-eminent adult entertainment network on the holo-net, though watching xxx-rated flicks while on duty was not the standard norm in the Imperial armed forces. However, since this was garrison duty on some out-of-the- way world on the ass end of the galaxy, the watch commander let it slide. "Hey, get up there and see what's wrong with the comm array," the comm- tech said to his friend. Just as the action on the vid screen had been getting good...namely, a shaved female wookiee was starting to go down a Hutt's tail. "Fine, I'll go check it out. It's more than likely just some solar flare that's causing the problem," the other comm-tech said as he wiped the sweat from his brow. He was hot, despite the fact that they had the AC cranked to the max. The bored and sweaty comm-tech started to climb the ladder that would lead to the hack that would lead to the roof of the massive garrison and he malfunctioning comm relays. "Damn it...now what?" The comm-tech cursed as he tried to open the hatch to the roof, but it would not budge, so with a loud grunt and even louder curse he put his shoulder to the hatch and it swung open. He found himself face to ruined face with the dead trooper that LT.Hit-Man had taken for a spin around the block. "NIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" the started com-tech screamed as he jumped back in fright at the sight of the dead trooper. He fell ten feet to the floor of the comm room, breaking both of his legs as he hit the floor. "CHEZZZUS!" the now not-so-bored comm-tech shouted as he ran over to his crippled friend who was trashing around like the gimp that he was when something wet hit the other in the face. He looked up and puked his guts out all over the place. It would take the puking comm-tech five minutes, two minutes of puking and three minutes of dry heaves, before he could get himself together and call for a med team to get up to the comm-room to take care of his maimed friend. He had passed out from not only the pain of his injuries, but also the mind-numbing horror of the gory scene. LT.Hit-Man was smiling as he felt the twin burst of terror at the discovery of the cowardly trooper that had gotten on his bad side. So much so that he decided not to read the riot act to the rest of the troopers that had broken formation when he took off like a bat out of hell from the hangar bay. But there was still the matter of the trooper that had taken his ship out for a joyride. Oh yes, he was going to make sure that trooper understood the folly of his actions before LT.Hit-Man dropped the hammer on him. Once the badly frightened stormtroopers were at attention, LT.Hit-Man began walking though the ranks as he had done before he went for his ride, all the while smiling that maddening smile of his that the gathered troopers would grow to hate and fear. Chris O'Farrell was sweating bucket after bucket as the insane cyborg walked past him. He wished that LT.Hit-Man would call him out and be done with it, but he knew that he and the rest of the troops were playing LT.Hit-Man's game, and that if he so much as dared to even think about disrupting that game, his death would be even worse than what LT.Hit-Man had already planned for him. So, he just stood there and waited and waited and waited in the ever-maddening silence as the minutes passed by at an agonizingly slow rate. Then, without so much as a sound, a hand leaned heavily on Chris's right shoulder. "So, sunshine, you're the one who likes to fly, eh?" Chris felt his throat tighten in almost mindless terror. "EEP!" was all he was able to croak out in way of a reply to LT.Hit-Man's question. "Well, it's your lucky day today! I'm going to give you some flying lessons," LT.Hit-Man said with a pleasantly cruel laugh. "No charge; you can thank me later," he added as he grabbed the thief by the scruff of his armor and began to drag him towards _The Fearmeister_. Then, without warning, he stopped and spun around so fast that when the rest of the gathered troopers found themselves facing LT.Hit-Man's fourth most lethal gaze, the one he saved for Imperial scout girls before he relived them of their load of Jedi crispies and enjoyed a chuckle as they ran screaming into the night. "The rest of you maggots are DISMISSED!" he shouted in a low rumbling voice that sounded like the tolling bells of hell. As the troopers stamped for any exit from the hangar bay, each and every one of them vowed right then and there to give up drinking. Can you blame them? I thought not. LT.Hit-Man pulled Chris's helmet off and took a moment to savour the fear in the doomed man's eyes before he cracked the hatch to _The Fearmeister_. "It is important to prep your ship before you take off," LT.Hit-Man said as he dragged Chris into his ship with a slightly nagging voice that grated on Chris's already jangled nerves. As they made their way to the cockpit, Chris began to tremble with fear when LT.Hit-Man stopped in front of the deactivated med droid, but what really put the fear into him was when he heard LT.Hit-Man say, "Naaah, I don't think we'll be needing the med droid for this lesson,” LT.Hit-Man then dragged Chris up to the charcoal gray leather bucket seat that LT.Hit-Man had installed in place of the standard grav-couch. "A clean ship is a safe ship. You don't want loose equipment flying around while you're pulling a forty-G reverse-S loop while strafing the kriff out a Mon Calamari Star Cruiser. Yes, having loose bits of whatever bouncing around while in combat is a very bad thing," LT.Hit-Man said as he looked over at Chris, who looked like he was suddenly contemplating suicide. "W-w-what are you talking about? This ship looks fine," Chris said weakly after working up the nerve to speak, but when he saw the stormy look on LT.Hit- Man's face, he wished that his mom had aborted him. LT.Hit-Man ignored him and kept on talking. "But, more importantly, a good pilot keeps his personal space on his fighter clean," LT.Hit-Man said, grabbing Chris as he kicked out Chris's feet from under him, dropping him to his knees above the seat. Chris started to gag as he found himself staring at a rather large pile of dried puke. He dimly remembered that he had lost his liquid lunch after he had put _The Fearmeister_ into a steep climb after a low fly-over of Mos Eisley in the wee hours of the night. He had pulled back on the flight stick, unaware that LT.Hit-Man had rigged the flight controls to be even more sensitive and responsive than normal due to his dark-side-enhanced reflexes, so when Chris found himself doing a ninety-degree climb, that's when his guts decided to abandon ship. "Amm, ah, I don't have anything to clean up the mess with," Chris stammered as he turned to face LT.Hit-Man. The loony LT held a wicked-looking scalpel, a cold look on his scarred face as he returned Chris fearful stare with a look that told Chris that LT.Hit-Man was looking at him like a soon-to- be- dissected-frog in a high school science class. "Reduce, reuse," LT.Hit-Man said coldly as he effortlessly twirled the scalpel along the knuckles of his cybernetic hand at a truly dizzying speed. The scalpel was nothing more then a steely blur. Chris looked at the menacing Sith Lord for a few seconds before what LT.Hit-Man had meant by those words sunk in. It felt as if he was going to puke yet again as a look of pure disgust marched across his face. He was about to raise a fuss, but when he saw that LT.Hit-Man had stopped twirling the scalpel, licking the blade as if to clean it with an insane glint in his cold dead cobalt blue human eye, a very sudden end came to any kind of protest that Chris might have made as if this had been some else's ship. Slowly, and with much reluctance, Chris began to lick the vomit-encrusted chair clean as LT.Hit- Man's pleasantly manic laughter echoed throughout the ship. Chris's hate for the sadistic cyborg began to do battle with his fear of LT.Hit-Man and it would only be a matter of time before that conflict was resolved. Once that distasteful task was done Chris, looked up to find LT.Hit-Man staring down at him. "Whoo, man, do you ever need a breath mint!" LT.Hit-Man said as he dropped a pack of candied mints at Chris's feet. Chris looked down at the small box of fresheners, looked up at LT.Hit-Man's scarred, lifeless face, then back down to the mints. Chris decided to leave the mints where they were as he was more than sure that they were not what they seemed to be. LT.Hit-Man was killing himself with silent laughter as he saw the look of confused fear mixed with disgust and the look that seemed to tell him the Chris was about to puke yet again. LT.Hit-Man used the Dark Side to make the box of mints jump into his hand. He opened the box and scarfed down a few of them before he spoke. "You're not going to get many dates with that dewback breath of yours; you should brush more often. I can not stress the importance of good dental hygiene,” LT.Hit-Man looked over the hastily cleaned chair, then to the cowering trooper as he let an annoyed look play out across his face. "You missed a spot,” When Chris heard that, his face fell as he looked back down at the chair with a nauseated look that twisted his face. "Hehehe, just kidding," LT.Hit-Man said cheerfully as he saw the look of outraged hate that took the place of the fear in Chris's eyes. They narrowed into slits as he stared daggers at his tormentor. "Ten HUT!" LT.Hit-Man barked in a loud, resonating voice that started Chris of his hateful revelry. He jumped to his feet and stood at attention, wondering what was going to happen next. "You know, back in the twentieth century humans used to decorate their vehicles, hanging oversized, fuzzy novelty dice on their rear-view mirrors. It was all the rage back then,” LT.Hit-Man said in a calm and friendly manner, opening a compartment on his stormtrooper belt. Chris just stood there, his jaw slack on his sweating face. _What the kriff is this nut bar up to?_ he thought to himself as LT.Hit-Man pulled out what looked to be fishing line, then reached over to open another compartment on his utility belt. "But since I don't have any fuzzy dice, I'll have to make do with this," LT.Hit-Man said as he held up a dried wookiee scrotum. Chris's face went another shade paler as he watched LT.Hit-Man string the fishing line though the ragged edges of the cured flesh bag. It became an uphill battle not to hurl at the gory sight. "Yep, when we came back and stomped the rebel scum a new mud-hole after we crushed the Milky Way, I had the task of hunting down Solo and his inbred offspring. Once I disabled the _Millennium Falcon_ with my ion guns, I boarded the ship, and there was a short fight before I massacred them all," LT.Hit-Man said with a hate-filled voice that scared Chris. He tied off the wookiee nads above the weapons indicator bar above the transparisteel cockpit window. "During the fight that low-down walking shag carpet Chewbacca kicked me in the nuts as me and him fought hand to hand. That stung, so I ripped his off," LT.Hit-Man said as he stepped back to look over his handiwork. He used the Dark Side to implant the mental image of the neutered wookiee lying on the suddenly bloody deck of the _Millennium Falcon_. All curled up in delicious agony, all he could do was whimper like a little girly wookiee as LT.Hit-Man proceeded to butcher Han Solo, his bitch of a wife Leia and their screaming brats. Chris crossed his legs slightly as LT.Hit-Man turned to face him with a smirk on his scarred face. "Not bad, eh? I was thinking of pulling out the shriveled testicles and using the scrotum as a Carababba tabac pouch. I think this is much better, don't you?" Chris just looked at LT.Hit-Man, who stood there, hands on his hips and a dazzling smile on that scarred face of his. That's when the corner of Chris's very suddenly dry mouth began to twitch uncontrollably. "Yep, sort of makes the ship a little more pleasant. Sort of like a home away from home," LT.Hit- Man said as he watched as Chris's face began to spasm uncontrollably. Now it was time to bring the hammer crashing down on the thief. "Say, have I told you what else humans used to do to their vehicles back then?" LT.Hit-Man said darkly as his face became coldly expressionless. When Chris heard that, his willpower to remain calm gave up the ghost and he started crying, begging and pleading for LT.Hit-Man to spare his life as he blubbered how sorry he was for stealing his ship as the Dark Lord of the Sith slowly walked towards him. Admiral Fett, no relation to the dreaded Boba Fett, was about to have his ship the SSD _Bitchy Tits_ get ready to leave Tatooine. They had finished offloading the supplies and personnel for the garrison when one of the officers that ran the scanners for the mighty warship told him that there was a rogue comet passing by them. The comet was the size of a Hapes Nova class battle cruiser; Fett decided that his gunnery crews were getting a little on the rusty side, so he ordered them to stand by to lay a full broadside into the comet when it came into range. "All right, all gunnery crews, you may commence with the broadside. I want that comet destroyed in one go," Fett said into the SSD's PA system in a crisp, commanding tone of voice. He moved to the bridge's front viewport to watch the action; sure, this was not as much fun as when they had blasted the New Republic senate that had holed up in the old Imperial Palace in the final battle for Coruscant, but it would do to break up the boredom. "Commencing broadside in five, four, three, two, on-WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!?!" the Master Gunnery officer shouted from the fire controller's pit as a ship suddenly streaked past them, right in between the SSD and the comet, less than three feet from the SSD_Bitchy Tits's_ turbolasers. "WHAT THE KRIFF!?! IS THAT PILOT INSANE!?!?!" Admiral Fett screamed as the first turbolaser fired, just missing the unidentified ship by a scant six inches. "G-G-Get a visual on that ship NOW!" Admiral Fett croaked as the ship flew past the second turbolaser as it fired, missing the ship by less than three inches. Within seconds they had a real-time holo feed of the ship; it looked to be a very heavily modified black TIE Defender with red pinstripe along its sides. The words on the back of it, just above the twin P-sz9.7 Ion engines, identified the ship, but were unreadable. "Get the kriff out of my way, fatheads! I brake for no one!" LT.Hit-Man shouted, waving his metal fist with an upturned middle finger. They watched as the TIE Defender raced along the full length of the SSD, flinching as a turbolaser fired as the TIE screamed past it. "Two inches, one inch," the scanner officer said in a shaky, disbelieving voice as they watched the TIE run it's deadly race. "Nine centimeters, eight centimeters, HOLY SHIT! FOUR MILLIMETERS!" The scanner officer screamed as that turbolaser blast nearly incinerated the TIE and it's mad pilot. The scared officer yelled again. "THE SON OF BITCH IS FLYING WITH NO SHEILDS!" There was a mad rush to any holo- monitor that was close by, all of them tracking the TIE as it made it's way along the SSD, the turbolasers continuing to fire at the comet. "THREE MILLIMETERS! TWO MILLIMETERS! ONE KRIFFING MILLIMETER!" The scanner officer said as he managed to sit down before his legs gave out on him. Admiral Fett was sweating buckets as he watched the TIE, unable to believe what he was seeing. No one in their right minds would even think about trying something like this; there were easier ways to commit suicide but when he saw the TIE Defender fly to less than an inch away from the next turbolaser he just about pissed himself. The weapon belched out its lethal payload of annihilating energy. "LESS THAN 2/3 OF A MILLIMETER! HE AIN'T GOING TO MAKE IT!" the scanner officer shouted as the TIE started to wobble. As the next turbolaser bolt fired off, everyone there just watched in a stunned stupor as the TIE righted itself and kept on going. No one was making any bets; they were sure that the TIE and the loony tune that was flying it were going to be vaped by the next turbolaser shot. "LESS THAN 1/4th OF A MILLIMETER! UN-KRIFFING-REAL!" the scanner officer shouted as they watched the TIE was that flying full out began to tilt worse than before. The TIE had reached the halfway point along the SSD that was a damn sight farther than any of them thought that the TIE would make it. When Admiral Fett heard the scanner officer scream, "LESS THAN 100th OF MILLIMETER!" he began to tremble it; was a forgone conclusion that the next shot would destroy the foolhardy TIE pilot. "LESS THEN 1000th OF A MILLIMETER!" Fett felt something warm run down his leg, but he was so wrapped up in the madman's run that he did not notice it. The TIE had a quarter of the length of the SSD to go and the TIE was listing so badly from the ionization for the near misses from the turbolaser blasts that there was no doubt that whoever was flying that ship was a goner. "HOLDING STEADY AT 1000th OF A MILLIMETER! GO, GO, YOU KRIFFING SON OF A WHORE!" The scanner officer screamed in fearful delight as the TIE streaked past another turbolaser as it fired. So close was that last shot that the holo- screens that were tracking the TIE were momentarily filled with a blinding green flash, and for less then a third of a second they thought the TIE Defender along with the madman that was flying it had been atomized. But when they saw the wildly bucking TIE, they let out a ragged cheer. Admiral Fett jumped to his feet as they saw that the TIE was still bucking like a dewback with a burr under its saddle. "COME ON, RIGHT YOURSELF! COME ON, COME ON!" he screamed as the listing TIE was fast coming up on the next turbolaser. At the last second the TIE managed to straighten out as the turbolaser cut loose, and again the holo-monitor was filled with that hellish green light that almost flash fried their corneas. "YA, THE KRIFFER MADE IT!" Admiral Fett screamed as he grabbed the edge of the holo- monitor, his knuckles bone-white as he tried to crush it. The wobbling TIE lurched onwards to the next turbolaser. "HOW MANY MORE DOES HE HAVE TO GO!?!?!" Admiral Fett screamed as the holo- screen flared up like a super nova then faded to reveal the TIE that was wobbling even worse then before. "HOLDING STEADY AT, HOLY KRIFF, LESS THAN 1/10000th OF A MILLIMETER!" The scanner officer shrieked as the wildly teetering TIE was baring down on another turbolaser. The holo- monitor was again filled with that sickly emerald green hell fire. When it faded, they saw the TIE fighting to straighten itself out. If it lost control now it would be erased from the universe and the TIE was too close to pull away from the oncoming bolts. "TEN MORE, SIR! HE HAS TEN MORE TO GO!!!!!!!!!!!!" The scanner officer screamed as he started to jump up and down like a kid dying to go on the best ride at Fun World but at the back of a long line. The TIE skirted the next turbolaser. "COME ON, YOU WHORE, DO IT!" Admiral Fett yelled as he started to shake. The holo- screen flashed green, then faded to show the TIE starting to loop out of control, but as it was racing like a man with the legion of the Sith on his heels towards the next turbolaser, it managed to avoid slamming into the turbolaser. The screen lit up again. "NINE MORE!" the scanner officer whooped as the TIE pushed onwards to the next turbolaser. The pilot fought to get his ship under control. Time seemed to slow down, then the turbolaser fired. "EIGHT MORE!" was the cry as the wildly listing TIE raced toward death or victory. It reached the next turbolaser. The holo-screens flashed that blinding green as everyone on the bridge moved closer, unable to tear themselves away from this grim dance. The TIE was starting to shake as the pilot luckily got the ship under control, pushing on to the next turbolaser. "IF THIS DEATH LOVING FREAK MAKES IT I'LL EAT MY KRIFFING HAT!" a comm officer screamed, the image of the struggling TIE blotted out in another flash of green. "SEVEN MORE!" everyone shouted as they saw the TIE fly onwards, the pilot struggling to keep on course. The tension on the bridge was so thick that you would need a lightsaber to cut you way though it. *FLASH* The TIE had gotten some of it's paint scorched as it screamed pasted that last turbolaser but it was still flying onwards. "SIX MORE! COME ON, DADDY NEEDS NEW E-11!" one of the bridge officers shouted as he saw the battered TIE race towards the next turbolaser, sweat pouring down his face. Never in all of his forty long years in the Imperial Navy had see ever seen such bravery or stupidity. *FLASH* Everyone hunched over their holo-monitors, holding their breath. "HOT KRIFFING DAMN, THAT LOONY MADE IT! FIVE MORE TO GO!" they all shouted, the wobbling TIE seeming to lose control. It came barreling on to the fifth-to-last turbolaser. *FLASH* "NOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" Admiral Fett screamed as the holo-screen faded to green. Had the TIE pilot gained control of his ship? None of them were sure; it did not seem like it, and for one briefly terrifying moment they were sure that the TIE Defender along with it's insane pilot had been destroyed. Their fears proved wrong as the holo-screen faded back to normal they saw the TIE still on track and going strong. "IIIIIEEEEEEE HE MADE IT! FOUR MORE, FOUR KRIFFING MORE!!!!!" a junior weapons technician screamed before he fainted from the sheer excitement. *FLASH* They held their breath again as they waited for the holo-screen to return to normal, and when it did, they were rewarded with the sight of the TIE coming out of a barrel roll as it flew towards the fourth turbolaser. From the angle the TIE was flying at, it looked as if it was going to slam into the turbolaser itself. "OH NOOOOO!!!!" the scanner officer croaked as he wet himself, but to their momentarily horrified surprise the TIE straightened itself out. They all jumped as the image of the TIE was drowned out by the green blaze of the turbolaser. "HOLY SHIT! THREE MORE TO GO!" Admiral Fett yelled. He heard a loud crunch as two of his fingers dislocated from squeezing down so hard on the edges of the holo-screen. He saw the TIE coming out of a slight spin, surging towards the third to last turbolaser, thanking whatever gods there were that this person was on their side. He would hate to have to fight someone with that much control and piloting skill, enough to have made it this far in this mad race. *FLASH* The holo-screen that Admiral Fett was watching started to spark and smoke as its optics circuits blew out from having to compensate for the sudden spikes in ambient light as it tracked the TIE on it's mad dash. "KRIFF!" Admiral Fett screamed as he ran over to another holo-screen. As he was fighting his way through the crowd of men, he called out, “DID THE CRAZY SON OF BITCH MAKE IT?!" A wave of cold dead washed over him; he had to know and he was not going to let anyone or anything get in his way for that answer. "YES, HE MADE IT, TWO BLOODY MORE TO GO!" the scanner officer shouted as Admiral Fett made his way beside him. Now everyone was getting really freaked out. *FLASH* They all stood there watching as the holo-screen returned back to normal, letting out a ragged cheer as the they saw the wildly bucking TIE power on to the second to last turbolaser turret. They felt their anxiety growing with each passing second. "GET YOUR SORRY ASS IN GEAR YOU ASSHOLE!" Admiral Fett swore as he watched the TIE limp towards the second to last turbolaser, one of its ion engines cutting out. They watched in sickening horror as the TIE seemed destined to be smashed into sub atomic particles as it slowed down. A green corona formed around the barrel of the turbolaser, but just as the deadly beam was lancing out towards the stricken TIE its stalled engine flared to life, pushing it out of the path of the turbolaser shot. "ARRKKK!" was the only sound to be heard as they blinked to see if what they had just seen really happened. The holo-screen faded from the green flash that had so narrowly claimed the ship and life of the insane TIE pilot. "ONE MORE ONE KRIFFING MORE! DO IT, YOU LOW DOWN SON OF BITCH!" they all shouted as the moment was upon them. This was it; they watched as the failing TIE limped towards the last turbolaser turret. As the TIE was halfway past the turbolaser, both of it's ion engines cut out from the terrible ionization that the TIE had been subject to during this race with the Sith. "No…NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Admiral Fett screamed as he grabbed the side of the holo-monitor. Time seemed to stop for a second, a minute, a thousand years as the green corona from the barrel of the turbolaser cannon slowly reached out for the stalled TIE Defender. Shortly before the beam was about to smash the doomed ship, there was a brief blue flash from the TIE then the holo-monitor was nothing but a bright field of emerald green. As the holo-monitor slowly faded back to the normal, cold velvety blackness of space, they just stood there watching and waiting for the last traces of the last shot from the broadside to dissipate. Then, lo and behold, there was the TIE Defender sitting there unharmed. Was this a dream, or was it real? They could not tell as they tried to make sense of what they had just seen. "My instruments don't go that low," the scanner officer muttered to himself as he tried to calculate how close the TIE had been to becoming a bad memory. There was long silence as they all just stood there, staring at the holo-monitor. "YEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEH! THAT WAS KRIFFING FUN! LET'S DO IT AGAIN!" blared over the ship's comm-system, making them jump as they watched the TIE slowly turn around to face the bridge of the SSD. Admiral Fett started to freak when he heard that. "WHO THE KRIFF ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL IS YOU MAJOR MALFUCTION?!?!??!" he screamed as he started to foam at the mouth. "Look, sir!" the scanner officer cried out as he pointed towards the bridge viewport. The TIE was barreling down on them like a trained bird of prey. "INTENSIFY ALL FORWARD SHIELDS! I DON'T WANT ANYTHING GETTING THOUGH!" Admiral Fett screamed as he soiled himself. "TOO LATE!!" a comm-tech screamed as the TIE surged towards the bridge viewport, then suddenly came to a halt less than six inches away from the window. They all could see a man in a vac suit lashed to the front of the TIE, a terrified look on his face. Half of the bridge crew passed out from fright as the other half heard the words that would give them nightmares for the rest of their days. "Hey, y’all like my new hood ornament?" After LT.Hit-Man had boarded the SSD _Bitchy Tits_, he untied Chris from his ship. It had taken all of his piloting skills to not only keep him and his ship from going up in smoke, but to keep Chris alive as well. At first, he had doubted that Chris would live though the high-G moves that he had put _The Fearmeister_ though, but that's where his Dark Side powers came in handy. He had used the Dark Side to gauge his speed as well as to heal any internal injuries that Chris might have sustained during the race, as well as keeping Chris from dying of sheer fright and from passing out. "That was a good race. You want to go for another spin?" LT.Hit-Man asked Chris in his most sarcastic voice. He watched as Chris started to gibber like an idiot. The terror that he had experienced on that flight into hell had blown a few of his fuses. Not that LT.Hit-Man cared; on the contrary, he was enjoying it immensely. "I thought not," LT.Hit-Man said as he grabbed Chris by the hair and began dragging him down the SSD's cargo hold. As they passed the ship's crewers he took the time to smile at them. They instantly cleared the way from him and the drooling stormtrooper. LT.Hit-Man laughed to himself as he saw the crewers start to quake in fear. All in all, this was turning out to be a fine day indeed. He fed on the sweet fear that filled the ship, replenishing his spent Dark Side powers. When LT.Hit-Man and Chris reached the carbon-freezing chamber in the SSD's cargo hold, the crewers in the pit looked at the new arrivals and began to pray that LT.Hit-Man was in a good mood. "OK boys, I want you fire this baby up. I got me something that I don't want spoiling, dig it?" LT.Hit-Man said as he dropped Chris to the floor and reached into a compartment of his stormtrooper belt. When he looked up and saw the techs racing around and over the chamber's equipment, he decided that he would spare them. LT.Hit-Man crouched down and grabbed Chris by the chin with his cyber hand, using his human hand to attach a modified Federation neural stimulator to Chris forehead. There was a slight crunch as it burrowed into his skull and bonded itself with the atoms of Chris's bones. The pain from the invasive merging cut though the mental confusion that Chris was suffering and he began to scream. This brought a smirk to LT.Hit-Man’s usually cold, scarred face. The modified neural stimulator would keep a person sane and coherent no matter how much pain was dished out onto them. LT.Hit-Man found them quite useful and made it a habit to carry a few of them on him for just such situations such as what he had planned for Chris. LT.Hit-Man then injected Chris with a shot of a sensory enhancer and as soon as the drug kicked in Chris began thrashing around on the carbon freezing chamber's floor, trying to rip the implant from his forehead. "I still don't think you get the point, you low down thieving bastard," LT.Hit-Man snarled as he started laying the boots to Chris, his smirk growing with each snap of a rib. After six of Chris's ribs had been busted LT.Hit-Man asked if the freezer was ready, but when one of the maintenance techs told him that they need a few more minutes, LT.Hit-Man's smirk disappeared like the morning mist at the coming of dawn. "I suggest you all stop jerking it and get that piece of shit working NOW! I want it ready to freeze this thief within ten minutes, understood?" LT.Hit-Man said as he put the whammy on the tech that had given him the bad news, and just as the doomed man was about to suffocate, LT.Hit-Man opened his slowly closing hand, then crushed his cybernetic hand closed. There was an obscenely loud snap as the tech's throat was crushed to a pulp. As the dead man's body slumped to the deck of the freezing chamber, the rest of the techs just stood there, pissing themselves in fear. "Perhaps you need further motivation?" LT.Hit-Man asked in a calm voice as he raised his cyber hand, putting the laser sight from his cyber eye smack dab in the middle of another tech's forehead. When the techs heard that, they redoubled their efforts. Nine minutes and fifty-nine seconds later the carbon-freezing chamber was ready to go. LT.Hit-Man dragged Chris over the edge of the freezing pit and placed him on the hydraulic platform, then knelt down to look Chris in his pain-filled eyes as he pulled his Guy Smiley routine. "Hey Chris, did you know what they used to do to thieves back on Earth in the Middle East a long time ago?" LT.Hit-Man asked in his Bob Barker/Emperor Palpatine game show host voice, but Chris was in too much pain to answer and that suited LT.Hit-Man just fine. "I thought not. Here, let me show you," LT.Hit-Man said in his most helpful yet condescending voice as he reached down, crushing Chris's left shoulder to a bloody pulp before he ripped that arm off. Then, he slowly reached over to Chris's right shoulder and took a moment to treasure the tortured look on Chris's face before he crushed every bone in Chris's right arm, starting with the fingers and working his way up to the shoulder, then slowly ripping that arm off as Chris's agonized screams echoed though out the ship. LT.Hit-Man reached out with the Dark Side to bring Chris to his feet, blocking out the pain that Chris was in as well as stopping the slight monsoon of blood that had been shooting out of the ragged holes where Chris's arms had once been. "OK, boys, let's dip this bitch!" LT.Hit-Man said in a cheesy 20th century, inter-city gangsta voice. LT.Hit-Man watched as Chris was lowered in the freezing chamber. At the first sting of the carbonite freezing, he dropped the pain blocker he had put on the fool who had gotten on his bad side and Chris let out such a shriek of mindless terror and suffering that a few of the techs dropped away in a dead faint. There was a loud whine as the retrieval tongs reached down into the freezing pit. The few techs that were still conscious gathered around the pit as their sick fascination overcame their fear of the madman that was standing there with a quiet and thoughtful look on his scarred face. The retrieval tongs grabbed a hold of the block of carbonite and slowly brought it up out of the pit as the last few wisps of carbonite mist dissipated. *BONG* The block of carbonite was lowered to the deck of the freezing chamber, and there was Chris lying there with the most beautiful expression of exquisite agony frozen on his face. "Yes, another masterpiece. Damn I'm good!" LT.Hit-Man cried jubilantly as he stood with the “cat that got the cream” look on his scarred face. As you may have guessed, art was a subject that LT.Hit- Man excelled at in school when he was just an ankle biter. LT.Hit-Man's smile grew, so much so that it was hurting him. Not that he cared when he saw the green indicator light. Chris was alive, forever locked in the cold moment of utter suffering and totally aware of what was going on with him due to the modded neural stimulator was imbedded in his skull. Insanity would offer him no reprieve from that hellish torment that LT.Hit-Man had placed him in for stealing his ship. LT.Hit-Man looked over at one of the techs, who was on the verge of puking his guts out. He asked him for the data pad he was holding. "I want you to bring me some silver paint as well as a shitload of black paint. I still have work to do,” The tech looked at LT.Hit-Man with a puzzled look on his face and decided he had better do as the Sith Lord asked, but he needed to know something before he could carry out the orders he had been given. "Ahum...how much do you need?" the tech asked as LT.Hit-Man finished typing on the data pad. LT.Hit- Man handed the cowering tech the item. He started to laugh as he watched the tech's eyes just about ready to explode out of her skull as she read the amount. Wisely, she kept her mouth shut and started to round up the many techs and crewers that would be needed to fill out LT.Hit-Man *request*. It was going to be a very long day, but on the upside of things they were no longer in the freezing chamber with the loony artiste who was laughing the demented laugh of the damned. "Ok lower, lower...ok hold it right kriffing there!" LT.Hit-Man said over the comm set of his phaser- and blaster-scarred smoke gray Zero-G trooper armor. The silver-painted block of carbonite that held the suffering starfighter thief was lowered in front of the recessed point of the SSD _Bitchy Tits_, which was sporting a new coat of black paint. LT.Hit-Man then pushed the carbonite block into the opening, where it fit perfectly, and began to molecularly weld the block to the SSD's hull. Once that was done, LT.Hit-Man took one last look at Chris's pain twisted face. "I hope you have learned the folly of stealing my ship. Think about it. You have all the time in galaxy,” he said with a cruel laugh as he flew back into the SSD's hangar deck. The rest of the workers finished putting the last few touches of pant in the ship. Yes, now it was time to relax. Admiral Fett was sitting in Joton's office, talking about LT.Hit-Man's actions as they downed drink after much needed drink. "Will you tell the loony freak to ease up? I mean, it's not like we're the ones who stole his ship. Why should we have to suffer?" Admiral Fett said to Joton. His voice had a slightly whiney tone to it that lead Joton to suspect that Fett might be a very distant relation to the now-dead Luke Skywalker. That particular Jedi had met his so richly deserved end in a lightsaber duel with LT.Hit-Man in the flaming remains of the New Republic senate building. "Like that mad dog is going to listen to me,” Joton rasped as he polished off tenth glass of Corellian whiskey and then told Fett what LT.Hit-Man had done before he dropped in on Fett. "Damn it, you think we should lodge a complaint to Grand Admiral Dalton?" Admiral Fett asked as he graciously accepted a refill of his mug from Joton. "Yah right, and end up like Admiral Piett? I think not!" Joton said as he finished filling his mug. ********* When Admiral Sheppard, Dalton along with General Yates, LT.Hit-Man's unconventional electronic warfare expert Phong and flight commander Spyda came back to retake their home galaxy from the New Republic after they had had razed the United Federation of Planets along with the rest of the Milky Way Galaxy, they were shocked to find that Admiral Piett had escaped the destruction of the mighty Executor in the final battle between the then Rebels and the old Empire. At the time, they needed as many officers that they could find, so they pressed Piett into service as they began to slowly take back what the New Republic had stolen after the overthrow of the old Empire. At the Battle of the Maw, Piett had gotten caught in a New Republic ambush that had left his Dreadnaught disabled, adrift and slowly falling towards one of the Maw's black holes despite a valiant fight on his and his crew's part. It seemed that it was the last call for Piett and his crew. That is, until LT.Hit- Man, along with the rest of the Cleaners and four ISDs, jumped out of hyperspace with LT.Hit- Man in _The Fearmeister_, who led the attack on two MC-80's, four Lancer Frigates and one captured ISD along with the _ Millennium Falcon_. LT.Hit-Man had nearly destroyed the Dreadnaught that Piett was on with an unguided rocket attack on the MC-80. It had gone in close to Piett's ship in order to board the disabled Dreadnaught. As LT.Hit-Man had lined up for his rocket attack on the MC-80, a Y-wing pounded on his ship with its ion cannons. Its lasers had been damaged in the fight and it had no more torpedoes to fire at _The Fearmeister_. Thankfully, the extra system shielding that he had installed on his ship kept the power up and running, but that ion surge has disrupted the target lock he had in the MC-80 as he was launching the rockets. One of the rockets hit the MC-80 amidships and the other heavy rocket hit the Dreadnaught just forward of the bridge, ripping a huge hole in the stricken ship killing a lot of good men and women. That made LT.Hit-Man mad. So, he ordered everyone to back off of the Y-wing as he threw _The Fearmeister_ into a 45 degree climb and rounded out the move with a tight spin- around that put him behind the Y-wing that was trying to beat a hasty retreat. LT.Hit-Man began rain down a merciless ion counter barrage on the fleeing Y-wing. Within a few minutes it was all over for the stricken starfighter and it's pilot as it was dragged down one of the Maw's black holes, crushed into the invisible singularity beyond the darkness of the event horizon. LT.Hit-Man then brought his ship around for another strike on the MC-80 that he had been attacking, intending on blasting it into scrap, but the Cleaners had made a daring fast attack on the MC- 80 that was trying to disengage from Piett's crippled ship in an assault transport. They boarded the MC-80 doing what they did best: killing and conquering. They had no choice in the matter, really; after they had boarded the MC-80, the _Millennium Falcon_ had fragged the transport in a futile effort to prevent the boarding. LT.Hit-Man order everyone back from the _ Millennium Falcon_ as he chased it down and got himself his new ship ornament. After the battle, Piett went to Admiral Sheppard and began to whine about how he had nearly gotten killed by LT.Hit-Man's slightly misguided rocket attack. Luckily for him, LT.Hit-Man was on Coruscant dealing with the last Jedi Luke Skywalker. Unluckily for Piett LT.Hit-Man would hear about the complaint that he had made. Later that night, LT.Hit-Man snuck into Piett's quarters. He woke up the sleeping man by breaking his legs and arms before beating on him. Then, LT.Hit- Man dragged the screaming Piett to one of the assault transports that were taking a load of New Republic prisoners to the spice mines of Kessel. He took the time to warn the other prisoners and stormtrooper guards that Piett was no longer a member of the Empire and that if anyone harmed him en route or while Piett was slaving away in the mines, he would come and deal with them. Not that the warning was going to spare Piett from any suffering; no, LT.Hit-Man had also dropped the hint that if anyone beat on Piett or made his life a living hell, that was fine with him so long as they did not kill the former Admiral. LT.Hit- Man even took the time to give Piett a proper send-off. "I find your whining bitch of an attitude most distasteful,” LT.Hit-Man said as he did his Darth Vader skit, voice and all before he used the force to rip Piett's tongue from his mouth, forever silencing him. Admiral Sheppard called LT.Hit-Man to his office once the Piett situation had been resolved and thanked him for getting rid of the annoying, bootlicking prissy-ass pest. ****** As they finished their drinks in a tense silence, the door to Joton's office pinged. Joton told whoever was there to come in; the door opened to reveal the very scared-looking shuttle pilot that had brought Admiral Fett down from his ship. "What now for kriff's sakes?" Admiral Fett asked as he began to get a sinking feeling in his gut. The pilot looked like as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of old senile ladies in rocking chairs. "Umm, sir, you had better come with me,” the shuttle pilot said. Admiral Fett looked over at garrison commander Joton and shook his head, then without a word he got up from his seat. Once Admiral Fett and the pilot were gone, Joton finished off his drink and began to read the backlog of base reports that had been piling up ever since LT.Hit-Man had come to Tatooine. "WHAT KRIFF IS GOING ON HERE?!" an enraged Admiral Fett shouted, but any further protest was choked off when he saw LT.Hit-Man seated in his command chair. A lovely raven-haired clerk from ship's stores was on her knees, deep- throating his impressive tool. Off to one side a junior comm-technician was lying in pain, his hands over the gaping, bloody wound in between his legs, bloody bits of tattered flesh scattered about the gasping tech. The rest of the bridge crew were busy at their tasks, trying not to look distracted, but every so often one of the bridge crewers would sneak a side long glance at the action then quickly look away as a slight bulge began to press against their uniform trousers. Admiral Fett just stood there, watching what was going on as he tried and failed miserably to deal with what he was seeing. Before he could say or do anything the ready, willing and quite able clerk low out a slightly muted moan of pleasure as a damp patch began to darken her uniform pants. ******** After LT.Hit-Man had come back aboard the SSD, he ran into a raven-haired woman who was endowed with a rather impressive upper structural integrity who had the guts to give him the once-over. The rumors from the long list of LT.Hit- Man's lovers stated that the feared Sith Lord's bedroom prowess was almost, if not more, impressive then his battlefield prowess and that a bliss unknown to mere mortals could be had if one had the courage to seek him out. However, one did so at one's own risk. LT.Hit-Man gave the lovely woman a favorable smile while he used his refreshed Sith powers to send the thought _report to the bridge in five minutes if you dare_, then gave his lips a slight lick and then made his way to the bridge. Five minutes later, to the second, the daring lady walked onto the bridge and saw LT.Hit-Man sitting in the Admiral's command chair. She walked over to the brooding stormtrooper and in a crisp, efficient, yet slightly lust-filled tone of voice she announced her presence to the enticing cyborg. "Ship's stores clerk first class Dismortora, reporting as ordered sir!" she said as she snapped to attention. LT.Hit-Man looked up at her and gestured with his human and cyber eye towards his codpiece and smiled when he saw Dismortora's left eyebrow rise in a surprised, challenging look. Then, without a word, she dropped to her knees and unfastened the codpiece, dropping it to the floor with a slight clatter that drew the attention of one of the fearful bridge crewers. He looked over to see what had made the noise, then he looked back, then suddenly stood straight up as it clicked in as to what he saw. Sweat begin to roll down his forehead as he fought down the urge to look back and confirm what he had just seen and the notion that some things are best left unknown. He had a desire to live to see the next day. Once the codpiece was gone, Dismortora's jaw went slack as she saw the well-endowed root of LT.Hit-Man's manliness spring to life. "That will do,” she heard him say in a low rumbling voice. She looked up and saw the dark predatory stare that LT.Hit-Man was giving her and she slowly took the tip of LT.Hit-Man's cock into her mouth and slowly worked her way down until the tip had hit the back of her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise as she felt a set of lips and a tongue slowly work their way over her swelling clit and she slowly drew her head up and then back down as she tried to wrap her tough around the flesh treat she had been given. LT.Hit-Man reached out and made Dismortora feel the force as he used his Sithly power to simulate his mouth and tongue slowly with the phantom mouth around her clit as he send the phantom tongue to probe the sweet mystery that is woman. As the two of them worked to create a disturbance in the Force, there was a loud "Hun?" and LT.Hit-Man looked over to see the bridge crewers watching in shocked amazement. Off to one side he saw some junior comm-tech beating it right then and there. "BELAY THAT SHIT, BOY!" LT.Hit-Man snarled as he raised up his cyber hand. There was a slight *piff* as he shot the comm-tech in the balls with a pellet from the pneumatic pellet gun in his cyber hand. A few seconds later, the specially-treated pellet that was imbedded in the comm-tech's balls reacted to the blood that was soaking it and exploded, spraying the scanner officer who had been keeping track of his TIE when he made the *Madman's run* (as his race with death had become known as) with bloody bits of the neutered comm-tech's testicles and penis. "Perhaps you care to share the same fate as him?" LT.Hit-Man asked as he gave the horrified bridge crew a cold look. Without a word, they went back to work, ignoring the weak cries from the collapsed comm-tech. ******** "I'm just getting to know my crew better,” LT.Hit-Man said as he filled Dismortora with the Dark Side. He brought her over the edge that he had placed her on with his well-honed Sith powers. "WHAT?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SHIP AND CREW YOU LOONY SON OF BITCH?" Admiral Fett screamed as the vein on the left side bulged outwards. He slowly reached for his blaster pistol; he was at his wit's end with this insane death dealing Sith lord. LT.Hit-Man held out a data pad for Fett, who just stood there, looking at it as if it was an armed proton grenade. Knowing LT.Hit-Man, it could very well be one, or something worse. "You are being given command of the Eclipse-class Super Star Destroyer _Storm Dragon_ at my insistance,” LT.Hit-Man rumbled in a cold, malevolent voice as he put away his other saber, Dismortora having finished her services to him by licking it clean once it had unloaded in her. Admiral Fett took the data pad and read it with sheer disbelief. He slowly looked up at LT.Hit- Man. He had always wanted to command an Eclipse. To have such an awesome ship to strike fear into his enemies...to call upon the sheer destructive power that could not be found on a lesser ship. To strike the deathblow to an opposing world like a vengeful god, had filled his many dreams and fantasies ever since he heard the name Eclipse. Over the long, bloody and frustrating years that he had been in command of the SSD _Bitchy Tits_ in the service of the Empire, it was now being handed to him by the most feared member of the Sinister Six that ruled two galaxies with bloody fists of iron. _Could this be real, or is it all a dream?_ Fett asked himself as he took one last look at the data pad. He half expected the words that would allow him to die a happy man would disappear as he found himself yet another one of the countless victims of LT.Hit-Man's trademark brand of humor. "You have five seconds in which to get your sorry ass off of my ship before I decide to kill you for even thinking of drawing your blaster on me while I was in the middle of a *crew evaluation*. LT.Hit- Man snarled, and in less then half a second Admiral Fett was running for the hangar bay like someone had launched him into hyperspace, the fear of LT.Hit-Man mixed with an almost overwhelming sense of relief and unrestrained joy. Fett's shuttle pilot just stood there as he came to realize that he was now under the command of LT.Hit- Man. He looked at LT.Hit-Man, then to the rapidly fleeing form of his former CO, then back to LT.Hit-Man, who was flashing him a toothy grin. The poor pilot's eyes widened with fear. "Go on, get out here. I can fly my own shuttles,” LT.Hit-Man said in a soft voice as he allowed the hard look in his human eye to disappear. He was happy at how the day was progressing, so he would be merciful. He watched as Admiral Fett's shuttle pilot ran after his CO, thanking every god imaginable that LT.Hit-Man was in a good mood. LT.Hit-Man heard something coming from the fleeing shuttle pilot that sounded like his lungs and heart were going to explode as caught up to Admiral Fett, who was just over a quarter of the way to the hangar bay. ******** Joton had finished writing out a nicely-worded but to-the-point letter that he was debating on sending to the rest of the *Sinister Six* in the desperate hope of getting LT.Hit-Man off of Tatooine and away from him. It would take at least a hundred and fifty parsecs of distance between him and LT.Hit- Man before he would even consider relaxing, let alone entertain any thoughts of deep sleep. Joton was about to sent the message when he saw that he had a message waiting from him on his computer so he hit the computer's play button and just about pissed himself when the holographic image of LT.Hit-Man sprang to life. "I am leaving, as I can no longer stand your incompetent bungling. The lack of discipline among your troops, along with the lack of proper security at the base, will no longer be tolerated. I hope, for the sake of the officer that is going to replace your sorry ass, that he will do a better job at running the base then you have,” the holo-LT.Hit-Man snarled in a low, grating voice. Joton just sat there as a cold fear cut him to the bone but he had a hard time in taking a small comfort from the fact that LT.Hit-Man was not delivering this message in person. "You're fired,” the holo-image said as it raised its cybernetic fist, flipping him the bird. Joton's fear was replaced with a growing anger. Anger towards LT.Hit-Man that was smashed down when he heard the holo-LT.Hit-Man speak again in a cold and most definitely cruel voice with a twisted holographic smile. "But to show that I'm not a complete rat bastard about that, I left you a retirement gift.” There was a click from under Joton's chair, followed by a slight hiss. Joton looked down and watched in horror as his boots began to dissolve, then his feet. He tried to scream, but all he managed to get out was a choking sob as his legs and knees were messily dissolved by the travem gas. The last thing Joton "Boners" Simaltol saw or heard before his painful end, besides his own tortured cries, was the holo-LT.Hit-Man with his arms crossed, laughing at him. ******* "Set a course for Betazed,” LT.Hit-Man said as he looked over to Dismortora, who was tossing the codpiece to his armor from one hand to the other as if to say "You think I'm done with you? If so, think again,” before she turned and walked into the private ready room that had belonged to the former Admiral of the SSD _Bitchy Tits_. "Inform me when we have reached Betazed. Until then, I am not to be disturbed.” He looked over to the neutered comm-tech. "Dispose of that,” he snarled to one of the gunnery officers, who ran to grab the comm-tech by an ankle to get rid of the corpse, but let go of the suffering tech when he let out a weak moan. "But sir he's still alive,” the gutsy gunnery officer said as he willed himself to look LT.Hit-Man in the eyes "Your point being?" LT.Hit-Man said in a deadly whisper as he held up his human hand. He began to slowly close it. The gunnery officer got the hint and grabbed the doomed tech by both ankles, dragging him to the nearest waste chute, leaving a sick red streak along the way. Wisely, the scanner officer called for a maintenance droid. LT.Hit-Man was planning on showing the already-scared populace of Betazed his latest work of art, enjoying the terror that would fill them, when he thought, "I wonder what old Thrawny would think of this art." He felt a slight pang of loss; after all, he had served with Thrawn before he, along with Admiral Sheppard and company, got shipped out to crush the Milky Way on the orders of the late and fairly unlamented Emperor Palpatine. Thrawn was one of the very few officer of the old Imperial Navy that he could respect and very cold rage filled him at the memory of Rukh's and the rest of the Noghri's vile betrayal of Grand Admiral Thrawn and the remnants of the old Empire. "Hold!" LT.Hit-Man yelled across the bridge at the navigation officer who was about to throw the switch that would send the mighty SSD into hyperspace. The poor man must have jumped about ten feet into the air at the sound of LT.Hit-Man's command. "Set course for Honoghr, NOW!" LT.Hit-Man barked. The rest of the bridge crew looked over at the insane Sith Lord and just about shit themselves when they saw the furious look in their new CO's one human eye. They went about their tasks double time just to be on the safe side, if such a thing existed in the presence of LT.Hit-Man. Once the course was laid in and the SSD made the jump to lightspeed, LT.Hit-Man smiled. When he got to Honoghr, he himself would use the SSD's turbolasers to reshape the planet's surface into a likeness of Grand Admiral Thrawn's head and bust. A likeness to be a very fitting tribute to the man who had fought with so much courage, guile and tactical genius in the face of overwhelming odds. LT.Hit-Man was about to walk into the ready room for some much need relaxation when he stopped, turned, and looked up at the hovering spy drone that had been with him since the start of the day. It had been broadcasting in full to both galaxies all that had happened from the time he picked up the cowardly trooper for a spin around the garrison base on Tatooine until that very moment. "Thievery of Imperial property is treason, thievery of my property is a painful ticket to the afterlife if you’re lucky!" LT.Hit-Man snarled then whipped out his E-11 and blasted the spy drone. *Cue the Imperial March and logo, hold for ten seconds, and fade to black*