Author Chester Burton Brown
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Author Chester Burton Brown


Haste Makes Waste

Bloody interrogation. Imperial audience. More leg woes.

Did you ever have one of those days?

It can be challenging to maintain your dignity as a dark tyrannical overlord when the circuitry in your left leg constantly misfires, threatening to send you off on a mad pirouette without notice. It requires a serious effort of will to maintain my poise, the tendrils of my connection to the Force reaching deep into space to feel out my distant quarry and at the same time wrapped around the mechanisms of my own body to keep them working.

I am stretched too thin.

The traiterous dog Krelcon was captured early this morning and brought around to the Imperial palace after breakfast. I had poached eggs with ham, buttered crumpets and a glass of wetfruit juice.

During my interview with Krelcon he admitted to me that he had been involved in smuggling the stolen data tapes of the Death Star's technical readout to the Rebel Alliance. In order to produce similarly fruitful results I used the Force to crush all of the small bones in his hands. Krelcon became most chatty then, and we discussed likely locations of the hidden rebel base.

Things went badly after that point, however. I confess that Krelcon took me off guard when he mentioned the prophecy. Eyes burning in a masque of pulp and blood he screamed, "The son of the suns is nigh, knight-bastard! He is on your very threshold!"

I had meant to backhand him but my passions were aroused and my concentration faltered, and so instead I released control of my errant left leg and instantly found myself doing a frenzied, lop-sided jig that turned me in place.

Krelcon found the strength to laugh. Thus, with one powerful thrust of the Force I burst his skull.

Which was probably premature. But que sera, sera.

The upshot is that the subject of Krelcon dominated my audience with His Excellency the Galatic Emperor, deflecting from the knot of emotion I feel inside whenever I consider the matter of the rogue Han Solo being spotted at Ord Mantell, possibly in the company of my son.

My son! I wince to even think the word, for truly he is not my son but the son of a name I no longer acknowledge. A different man, a weaker man, an insubstantial shadow of the king I have become.

"You will return the fleet to the outer rim tomorrow," enunciated Emperor Palpatine crisply, leaning into his cane and watching me from beneath the hem of his black mantle. "You will soon have the clues you need to close in on our quarry."

"You believe the new probe droids will be effective, then, my master?"

"I am not concerned with droids," he replied. "Rather, I have foreseen these events. The strings of the Force grow taut, and soon we shall play a tune upon them, Lord Vader. It will be a dirge for the rebellion that will initiate the second age of this New Order."

Man, that guy loves the sound of his own voice! Luckily no one can see me roll my eyes behind this masque.

Emperor Palpatine lowered himself into his throne and lay his claw-like hands upon the wings ceremoniously. "Tell me," he commanded evenly. "Does something else trouble you, my servant?"

"No, my master."

His yellow eyes pierced me for a long moment. "Very well," he concluded. "You have your instructions. Report to me when the hidden base is found."

"Yes, my master."

He turned his throne to meditate on the endlessly roiling cityscape of Coruscant, the principal sun melting into the horizon in a haze of violet and gold. I took my leave, my left leg skittering randomly every few steps in my fluster.

The Crimson Guard pretended not to notice.


Blogger Ben said...

That was nice of them.

Anonymous Anonymous said...


Now that is a name I have not heard in a long time...a long time.

I would not say it was "nice" but it was certainly appropriate to my station as a dark tyrannical overlord. The position should command, if nothing else, a certain quailing respect.


D. Vader

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your Supremem Excelency Darth Vader,

Trooper A-29 reporting! While I and the rest of my unit are certain that you waste no time in your hunt for the rebels, I and the rest of my unit must ask you what may seem a frivolous question.
We are having trouble keeping the shine on our armor after bloody skirmishes (and certain victories!) with the rebel scum, may it be forever eradicated!
We have switched polishes several times, but nothing seem to repel the blood. We have tried adjusting the settings on our blasters lower, higher, nothing seems to be the solution. We have even tried using old tibanna gas cartridges in our weapons, yet that only throws the recipient into a state of extremem shock, thus rendering them useless.
Our question is this, how is it that you are able to keep your mechanical suit so clean? Can you recomend a polish that works? Or is it simply that you clean it more frequently? Please help us, as the garison commander refuses to give us more prisoners to experiment with.
Please do not exterminate us if you think we have overstepped our bounds by asking.

Trooper A-29!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Mr. Vader,

We have noted your taxes are late. You have been fined sixty-billion credits for failure to file.

You can dispute this by reporting to the local government building and getting a court hearing. (Or you could just crush him.. doesn't matter to me).

Good luck in your future endeavors and may this little matter be put to rest as soon as possible.

Blogger Hoka-shay-honaqut said...

Trooper A-29. Ewoks have natural polishing compounds in their fur. Used Ewoks. Cheap!
1 888 ---- bingorage

Anonymous Anonymous said...

To: Trooper A-29

RE: Lord Vader's clean suit

Although I and many of my fellow assistants to Lord Vader polish and wax Lord Vader's armour once a month, for the most part he keeps it clean by using the Force. He tells me this is not a very strenuous task, and with his proficiency level it usually only takes four or five seconds to get it sparkling.

His advice to you: Get some midichlorians, fulfill an ancient Jedi prophecy, and learn to use the force.

Or buy some Ewoks. That's what we use for the monthly waxing.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I've found a Gungan-skin chamois to work quite well, too.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

"The strings of the Force grow taut, and soon we shall play a tune upon them..."

...Man, that Emperor can write some good SHIT!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Anakin! There you are! Where have you been? You're late for dinner!

Blogger Spllchkr said...

"The traiterous dog Krelcon was captured early this morning and brought around to the Imperial palace after breakfast."

A traitor is often traitorous, but there is no such thing (except in your misspelled existence) as a 'traiterous' 'traiter'.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

I don't know about you, but I find it a little thtreatening if you read about a bunch of stupid races using your own fur for cleaning their armor. I would say, us your own polish and leave my furs alone!

Anonymous Anonymous said...

You know, your Darth Sidious does know how to use some creative speaking terms. Do you know whether he writes? I would certanly like to see some of his works someday.

Of course only if he sees it appropiate.

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Clearly, given your technological concerns (I think that's more PC than "your skittery leg"), your technicians attend the same technology classes as our IT "gurus." Any advice on the cleanest way for a mere mortal to deal with inept, lazy, incompetent IT geeks? I will follow your advice to the letter....


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