or PALPATING PALPATINE
 

by Jefferson Morris
 

Moff Jerjerrod straightened his uniform and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he watched the Imperial shuttle make its final approach. The pilot, apparently drunk, was having some difficulty maneuvering the ship into the enormous Death Star landing bay. The bay itself was a mess, full of garbage and broken-down ships. A small formation of stormtroopers stood at attention, waiting for the shuttle to land.
 

Jerjerrod's aide, Oola, an exotic looking green female with two tentacles coming out of the back of her head, pinched his ass playfully. "Shit, Jerry. Sweat in abject terror much?"

Jerjerrod brushed her hand away, annoyed. "Shut up."

"The worst he can do is kill you."

"Don't underestimate him. Go away. Wait for me in my quarters."

Oola turned up her nose and strutted away. "Lighten up. I'm gonna go wash my head."

Jerjerrod ignored her, fixing his attention on the shuttle, which was listing badly. Finally it crashed into the bay, sending up an enormous shower of sparks and plowing through the stormtrooper formation. Severed limbs were scattered everywhere as the craft skidded to a stop.

Picking his way among the bodies, Jerjerrod made his way to the hatch. Two of the surviving stormtroopers were prying it open with crowbars. Eventually, they got it open far enough, and Darth Vader squeezed out. He coughed into his mask and straightened his cape.

Jerjerrod saluted stiffly. "Lord Vader, this is an unexpected pleasure. We are honored by your presence."

"Sure, sure."

"I apologize for the poor quality of your pilot, Lord. We're a little understaffed here."

"Actually I had to take her in myself. I killed the pilot."

Jerjerrod bit his tongue involuntarily. Stifling a cry of pain, he squeaked timidly. "Killed? Why, Lord?"

Vader scratched his helmet. "I can't remember. Maybe it was...I don't know. It'll come to me. Anyhoo, fuck the pleasantries, I'm here to get your ass back on schedule."

"I assure you, Lord Vader, our women are working as fast as they can."

"Perhaps I can find new ways to motivate them. Or just spruce up the old ways a little."

"But he asks the impossible. I need more women."

"Who doesn't?"

From across the bay, a group of protesters began waving signs and shouting. "ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, JERJERKOFF IS A FUCKING WHORE!! ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR..."

Vader looked at the protesters curiously. "Union problems? I told you not to let the scabs in."
 

Jerjerrod shook his head quickly, rubbing the sweat from his eyes. "Nothing important, Lord. I'm taking care of it."
 

The protesters changed their chant. "AKRIT'TAR!! AKRIT'TAR!!"
 

Jerjerrod took a step back, and slipped in the blood of one of the stormtroopers. He fell hard on his ass. Wincing, he clambered back to his feet. "Lord Vader, if you'll come this way, please. The Emperor said he'd like to see you."
 

"Don't try to pawn this off on me, Jerry. The Emperor's... problem is your problem too. It's everybody's problem."
 

"We shall double our efforts!"
 

"You sent me a message saying you'd already doubled them."
 

"I mean double them again."
 

"So you mean you'll quadruple them."
 

Jerjerrod paused. "If you mean quadruple our original efforts, that is, the effort we were putting out before it was first doubled...then yes."
 

Vader looked at him. "I should kill you for that, you know. But I'm in a good mood today. I pardon you."
 

"I appreciate it, Lord."
 

"Sure, sure."
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Emperor Palpatine bent uncomfortably over an examining table, his face contorted in pain, while his doctor, a burly-looking medical droid, inserted a probe into his rectum. Palpatine was wearing a light blue hospital gown with a Star Destroyer design.
 

Vader swept into the Throne Room, surveying the scene. It had been set up as a kind of triage. Cots were strewn everywhere, each one stuffed with injured prostitutes of all races and planets.
 

Bothan whores, Dellaltian whores, Rakririan whores, Kallan whores, Rudrigian whores. Some were dead, others dying. Medical droids whizzed from one to another.
 

Vader cleared his throat. The Emperor looked up at him, his yellow eyes burning with the pain of the rectal exam. He hissed.
 

"I thought...I told you to...wait on the command ship!"
 

"I thought you were kidding."
 

The medical droid butted in. "Emperor, your prostate gland is still badly congested."
 

"Tell me something I don't know."
 

"You'll need an operation..."
 

"No! No operation. I just need a real lover to get the pipes clean. One who isn't afraid of hay, and knows how to roll in it.
These whores are all...defective. Can't Jerjerkoff find any healthy ones?"
 

"Please Emperor, don't struggle."
 

"Aaahh!" The Emperor lunged forward, clearing the droid's probe. "Enough!" He began stumbling between the cots, spitting on the prostitutes. His abnormally-long toenails clicked on the steel floor.
 

The medical droid chased him persistently, its probe still extended. "Please, Emperor, your exam isn't finished."
 

"Pah! These whores are cut with sponge rubber! No life to 'em. And they're covered with germs. Germs, everywhere! I can see them. You can see them, can't you Vader?"
 

Vader cleared his throat. "Uh...yes, I can see them, master. Disgusting."
 

The Emperor whipped his gown off and began strutting around nude. His entire body was whitish and emaciated, with the exception of his penis, which was nearly purple. "There must be an uncontaminated one here somewhere." He stopped in front of one of the cots. "You!"
 

Sy Snootles looked up reluctantly. Her eyes were slightly sunken, and the reddish lips on the end of her snout were covered with sores. "Christ, not again."
 

"Stop this insolence! I was told you could suck the ears off a gundark."
 

"Why would I want to do that?"
 

"Cut the shit."
 

"Look, you don't want me," Sy protested weakly. "I'm covered with germs, remember? You said so yourself. Big, yucky, bug-eyed germs."
 

The Emperor clapped his hands twice. "Right! I need some audio-visual accompaniment." Two red-suited Imperial Guards approached, pushing a television monitor on a cart. They set it up in front of the cot.
 

One of the guards held out a selection of videotapes. "Which one would you like this time, sir?"
 

Palpatine looked them over. "Seen it...seen it...'THX-1169'? What's that about?"
 

The other guard butted in. "I've seen the future, and it's HOT, Lord! THX and LUH are a couple of tumescent techworkers coping with intimacy in an Orwellian future state. In this nightmarish Neverland of absolute efficiency, orgasms are rationed out like plutonium, and oral pleasure isn't even allowed during meals. But THX and LUH aren't about to let that stop them. You couldn't drop enough hats to keep up with their rapacious rigmarole! Embark with them on a FutureSex joyride that penetrates deep into the forbidden love of two unstoppable fucking machines mired in a technocratic dystopia!"
 

Palpatine spat on his prick. "Alright, load it up. But if I don't finally get a nut out of this one, both of you will be taking a one-way trip to the bottom of the reactor shaft."
 

The guards swallowed audibly and put in the tape. As they fast-forwarded past the Corporate Sector Authority copyright warnings, Palpatine gripped Sy's snout.
 

Her voice was muffled. "Mmrmpphh muuurlllphhh..."
 

Palpatine began to work his cock between her lips. "No time for famous last words." Palpatine's glans created a sizable bulge in Sy's snout. He was reminded of a snake swallowing a goat. The image made him laugh out loud.
 

The tape was starting. Two bald, naked humanoids were groping each other in the middle of a blinding white wasteland where not a single feature of terrain was visible. The two began to speak.
 

LUH: What's wrong?
 

THX: I need...something stronger.
 

THX began to pump harder. Shots of their faces were interspersed with shots of THX's cock, gleaming with fluid, plunging in and out of LUH's hairless vagina.
 

LUH: You're off point 0.17 to the right. Correct it, please. Make the correction, THX.
 

THX adjusted his hips and relaxed his rhythm. He frowned somewhat, worried.
 

LUH: What's wrong?
 

THX: I don't know. I just...
 

LUH: My time is yours. Go ahead. Proceed.
 

THX: I just don't know if I can go on like this.
 

LUH: Yes, I understand. Yes, fine. Yes.
 

THX: I just feel like I want to...you know, do something. I mean really...do something.
 

LUH: Excellent. Yes.
 

THX: I've got some bad ideas in my head.
 

LUH: Could you be more...specific?
 

THX: Well, I've got a slip movement to install on my next shift, and...
 

LUH: You are a true believer.
 

Abruptly, THX took out his cock. A slow-motion close up showed his ejaculate splashing against LUH's rectum, and running between her buttocks down onto the white floor.
 

THX looked at his dripping penis. He spoke in a completely monotone voice.
 

THX: That was very erotic.
 

LUH: Performance perfect is perfect performance. Projected cost of orgasm--14000 credits.
 

Two police robots with gleaming metallic faces approached. They began prodding the pair with long black rods. Suddenly, the television exploded, struck by bolts of lightning which emanated from Palpatine's gnarled fingers. "What the fuck was that? Where did you get this from, a morgue?"
 

The Imperial guards coughed in the smoke, terrified. One spoke up. "It gets better Emperor, trust me! It's a real scorcher!"
 

Palpatine clapped his hands again. "Two more for the reactor shaft!" Another set of Imperial guards approached. They apprehended the previous two and began dragging them away.
 

Sy continued to suck listlessly, obviously disheartened by her prospects of successfully bringing Palpatine to a climax. With her left hand, she picked up a magazine and began reading it while she bobbed her head mechanically at his groin.
 

Palpatine slapped the magazine away, and pulled his penis free of her mouth. "Aaaghh! This is hopeless. Nothing is proceeding as I have foreseen!"
 

From across the room, Vader stifled a laugh. Palpatine, noticing it, stumbled toward him. "I'm sure you'd like to share whatever you just found so goddamn funny!"
 

"Excuse me, master," Vader replied. "But I could have told you that none of these whores could fuck their way out of a cracked chromasheath. If I were you I'd scratch gravel and dip into a real talent pool. I mean, look at that thing over there." Vader pointed to a particularly ratty looking Yak-Face. "It doesn't know its cunt from its prick, and neither do you."
 

"You could come up with better?"
 

"Does an Ewok shit in the woods?"
 

"They'll be shitting on your grave if I don't nut soon."
 

Vader put his arm around the Emperor's shoulders, and led him over to the large circular viewport. "There's a whole universe of ass out there. Think of it. If only one in a million planets can support life, and only one in a million of those actually develop life, and only one in a million of those develop intelligent life with..."
 

Palpatine whacked him on the helmet with his cane. "Skip the astrobiology lesson and get concrete. Where, when, and how much?"
 

"Give me some time to work on it."
 

"Who's the best fucker you've ever had?"
 

Vader found his thoughts drifting inexorably to Luke. Then suddenly he felt the Emperor's consciousness penetrating his own.
 

He tried to resist, but couldn't.
 

Palpatine jumped back. "Hooahh! Son! You have a son! Your feelings have now betrayed him too."
 

Vader muttered under his breath. "Balls."
 

"He will come to you, then you will bring him before me. He's grown strong. At least I hope he has. Maybe he can get me out of this rut. Call to him with your mind. Now."
 

Vader hesitated for a moment.
 

Palpatine hissed, "Well any fucking time, sweetheart!"
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Luke, slumped before the controls of his X-wing, felt a voice echo in his head.
 

LUKE...
 

Luke sighed, and ignored it.
 

LUKE...
 

"Ben, this isn't funny anymore. I know it's you, I can hear you breathing."
 

SON, COME TO ME.
 

"Father?"
 

OF COURSE, DICKHEAD.
 

"Fuck you."
 

PLEASE?
 

"Gimme one good reason."
 

WELL...YOU'VE STILL GOTTA PISS, DON'T YOU? WE'RE THE CLOSEST STATION.
 

"No."
 

YOUR THOUGHTS BETRAY YOU. YOUR MECHANICAL PENIS IS MALFUNCTIONING. YOU'VE BEEN TRYING TO PISS FOR A WEEK, HAVEN'T YOU? I'VE GOT PEOPLE WHO CAN FIX YOU.
 

"No, thanks."
 

ALRIGHT, IF YOU HAVE TO HAVE IT THAT WAY.
 

The ship was abruptly wrenched around, twisted in another direction. Luke flew up against the cockpit, banging his head.
 

"Oww!! What the fuck?"
 

TRACTOR BEAM. YOU GAVE ME NO CHOICE.
 

"You won't get me without a fight."
 

OOOH, I'M SCARED.
 

Vader's voice faded away. Luke reached for the translator, and flipped it on. R2's voice came crackling out in mid-sentence.
 

"...RIGHT OUT OF THE FACTORY. I'VE NEVER TALKED ABOUT IT UNTIL NOW. I KNOW I COME ACROSS AS COOL AND COLLECTED, BUT...THEY FUCKED ME UP, MAN. THEY REALLY FUCKED ME UP. THEY PUT A RESTRAINING BOLT IN ME. JUST STUCK IT INSIDE ME. DO YOU UNDERSTAND WHAT THAT FEELS LIKE? IT'S THE WORST KIND OF VIOLATION. IT'S GREAT TO FINALLY FIND SOMEONE WHO'LL LISTEN TO ME. MOST HUMANS JUST BRUSH ME OFF. THEY FIGURE, 'HE'S JUST A DROID, HE DOESN'T HAVE FEELINGS, FUCK HIM.' I WANT YOU TO KNOW I APPRECIATE..."
 

Luke cut in. "Yeah, yeah. Somebody's locked a tractor beam on us. Can we break out of it?"
 

"WHAT GOOD WOULD A TRACTOR BEAM BE IF YOU COULD BREAK OUT OF IT?"
 

"Well, I thought maybe..."
 

"YOU'VE BEEN LISTENING TO ME, RIGHT?"
 

"Yeah, yeah. Are you sure there isn't any way..."
 

R2's voice trembled. "YOU WEREN'T LISTENING."
 

"Oh shut the fuck up, you whining, nearsighted scrap pile. Sob stories are like assholes. Everybody's got one. Except for the Sljee's. And some species of..."
 

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER."
 

"Just shut up and tell me where the beam is taking us."
 

"OPEN YOUR EYES, ASSHEAD. THAT SMALL MOON."
 

Luke squinted at a small grey object, barely visible in front of them. "That's no moon, it's a...wait, maybe it is a moon.
 

Or...what the hell is that? A space station?"
 

"IT'S TOO BIG TO BE A...WELL, MAYBE IT IS, BUT LOOK AT THE SHAPE."
 

As they moved inexorably closer, the object was revealed to be somewhat potato shaped.
 

"Could it...That can't be...Yes, it is." As they got closer,
 

Luke realized that it actually was the Death Star, but it was collapsing under its own weight, deforming its originally spherical superstructure.
 

"Man, it's really gone downhill."
 

"LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY PUT IT IN A TRASH COMPACTOR."
 

Luke looked more closely. He began to a see a faint gossamer ring orbiting the station. As they moved closer to it, he could make out the objects which composed the ring--Bits of garbage and dead bodies. Thousands of them.
 

"Jesus Christ." The X-wing passed through the ring. Dead droids, humanoids, and aliens began bouncing off the ship, smearing it with blood, sinew, and feces. Luke switched on the windshield wipers.
 

R2, affixed on top of the ship, was already soiled.
"AH, SHIT...FUCK...PHTU! THIS IS DEGRADING. THERE BETTER BE SOMEBODY READY TO HOSE ME DOWN."
 

Luke tucked his prick, which was still erect, under his belt, covering it with his flight jacket. "It's alright. I used to live here, you know."
 

"YOU'RE GONNA DIE HERE, YOU KNOW. CONVENIENT."
 

"I've still got a few teeth left."
 

"THAT'S NOT WHAT I'VE HEARD. NOT AFTER THAT NIGHT WITH THE ASTROMECH ON LAFRA..."
 

"Tell me, droid," Luke said, rubbing his sore neck. "Why didn't I have your memory erased?"
 

"YOU FORGOT."
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Jerjerrod lay back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his eyes bloodshot. Oola was bent over him, unzipping his pants and pulling them down.
 

"You've got to learn to relax, Jerry. So the old man can't come. So the station is falling apart. It's not all your fault."
 

Jerjerrod rubbed his forehead. He was developing a migraine.
 

"Sometimes I sit awake at night and dream about the station blowing up. Like maybe there's some ridiculous design flaw which would allow a single rebel fighter to blow it up with a single torpedo."
 

"You watch too many movies." One of Oola's head tentacles wrapped itself around Jerjerrod's penis and began stroking it. The other snaked under his buttocks and began worming its way up his asshole. With her left hand, she rubbed her breasts, and with the other, her clitoris, which had taken on a deep purple hue.
 

Jerjerrod continued to stare at the ceiling. "I know it's impossible, but...a guy can dream, can't he? If only one little proton blast could solve all my problems. Boom." His voice took on a dreamlike tone as he fantasized. "And the rebels would have a big celebration, some kind of nazi-style rally with all the troops lined up to watch the medals being presented. And then in some corner you'd see me, a disembodied spirit with a fuzzy blue light around me. And I'd be smiling and clapping for the sandy- haired sonofabitch that did it. If only."
 

Oola began licking his prick like a popsicle, her unusually long tongue coating it with blue saliva, and coiling around it like a snake. With one tentacle, she began tickling his balls.
 

Jerjerrod slapped his thigh in frustration. "I mean, the bureaucracy doesn't give you the men, it doesn't give you the support, it doesn't give you dick. I'm lost in space out here."
 

He ran a hand through his prematurely graying hair.
 

Oola responded, her voice somewhat muffled. "Poor baby. You know how many would kill for your job?"
 

"They are killing for my job. Half my staff has murdered the other half."
 

"Well, there are always a few ass-kissers." Oola grunted and returned to her work. She closed her eyes and began sucking faster, taking Jerjerrod all the way into her throat, completely covering him with every stroke. One tentacle squeezed his balls, turning them red and making each tiny blue vein stand out.
 

Jerjerrod began to make a few weak noises of pleasure, feeling the tension mounting.
 

"Uhhnn...Hit me. Hit me." His voice was nearly cracking.
 

Oola withdrew her tentacle from his ass and began whipping him across the stomach, leaving large reddish welts.
 

Jerjerrod squirmed with pleasure. "Ohh! Tell me I'm incompetent!"
 

Oola enunciated as best she could. "Mmllphh...incompetent..."
 

"Tell me I couldn't administrate an ass-wiping."
 

"Couldn't...mmphh...administrate wiping."
 

"Tell me I should be canned!"
 

"Canned!"
 

"Yes! Yes, I'm a complete fuck up! I couldn't count my balls and come up with the same number twice!" Jerjerrod gritted his teeth, every muscle in his body tensing before the release of orgasm.
 

Suddenly a full-sized holographic image of Admiral Piett appeared in the room in front of the bed.
 

"Sir, the fleet has moved out of light speed and is preparing to...uhhh, oh, I'm sorry."
 

Oola, startled, dropped Jerjerrod's prick from her mouth and whipped her head around just as he ejaculated. A thick rope of sperm struck her in the right eye, then strafed its way around her head, ending up in her ear. Blind and deaf on one side, she turned to glare at the holographic Admiral.

Jerjerrod slammed his fists on the bed in frustration.
 

"Piett, the news better be really good, or really bad."
 

Piett cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Uh, I had one of my engineers look over the plans of the station to figure out a way of maintaining structural integrity. Well he was analyzing the plumbing system and...apparently there is a danger. Shall I have your ship waiting?"
 

Jerjerrod laughed bitterly. "Evacuate? In my moment of triumph?"
 

"It could be serious. He's waiting in the main conference room. He'll explain it to you."
 

"Alright, alright. 5 minutes." The hologram dutifully snapped off. Jerjerrod slowly sat up, and began pulling his pants back on.
 

Oola wiped the sperm off her face with her tentacle, then began licking it clean. "We never get a break, do we?"
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Jerjerrod sat in the conference room, his chin resting on his hand. A bespectacled engineer was making the presentation at the front of the room, using a holographic model of the station to illustrate. A small group of technicians and plumbers was assembled.
 

The engineer pointed to a spot on the model. "The weak point is a small thermal waste port, right below the main port. It's on level AA23."
 

The hologram changed into an image of a toilet. "We've cordoned off this facility and put it under armed guard until the situation can be repaired. Under no circumstances can anyone deposit solid waste there."
 

One of the technicians piped up. "Pardon me for asking, sir, but what good is a turd going to be against that?"
 

"The waste pipe leads directly to the reactor system. A precise clog in the pipe could start a chain reaction which would destroy the station. Only a precise clog will set up a chain reaction. The pipe is ray-shielded so it would have to be a particularly solid piece of excrement."
 

In the back of the room, two young technicians were whispering.
 

"That's impossible, even for a wookiee. No piece of shit can clog a ray-shielded pipe."
 

"It's not impossible, I used to clog my Bemis-16 back home all the time. It's ray-shielded."
 

Jerjerrod got up abruptly, waving everyone out of the room.
 

"So everybody'll shit in their helmets for a while. If there's nothing else, I'll..."
 

One of the technician's piped up. "Actually, sir, now that you're here...some of the men have put together a little presentation for you. It'll only take a few minutes."
 

Jerjerrod sighed. "How many minutes?"
 

"Ten."
 

"Make it five." He sat down heavily. A group of stormtroopers moved into the front of the room. Two of them began taping a banner across the front wall. It read: "I CAN'T SEE A THING IN THIS HELMET."
 

One stormtrooper took center stage and cleared his throat.
 

"Ahem. Thank you for your time, sir. It's no secret that a lot of accidents and tragedies occur not only on this station but on Imperial outposts all over the galaxy. Accidents which would be completely preventable if our stormtrooper armor were to be redesigned..."
 

Jerjerrod got up. "I've heard these arguments already..."
 

"No, sir, please. If you'll just watch this brief assortment of video clips we've prepared, perhaps these problems will become more clear to you." The trooper nodded to one of his partners, and a video screen dropped down from the ceiling. On the screen was an image of two stormtroopers standing next to a ramp near the tractor beam generator.
 

The presenter continued. "As you can see, we've titled our presentation, 'I can't see a thing in this helmet,' which has been a perennial mantra for regulars in the Imperial legion. If you'll watch the screen, you'll see why."
 

On screen, the two troopers were talking:
 

"You seen that new PT-16?"
 

"Yeah, one of the other guys was telling me about it. He says it's quite a thing to see."
 

From the left side of the screen, an old man in a brown robe appeared. He made a motion with his hand. Both troopers looked off down the hall, away from him.
 

"What was that?"
 

"Ah, it's nothing. Outgassing."
 

As they continued to speak, the old man walked onto the plank, no more than 15 feet from them. Amazingly, they failed to notice him. He walked off down a hallway.
 

The presenter motioned for the film to be paused. "Now that was a dramatization, but it's based on actual events. It's ironic that the one trooper asks the other if he's 'seen' the new PT-16, considering the fact that neither of them can 'see' the old man standing no more than 15 feet away. The helmets offer no peripheral vision whatsoever."
 

Jerjerrod shifted in his chair and scratched his ass, bored.
 

"And that's only the vision problem. There are other problems as well. For example, considering the fact that these uniforms are supposed to constitute armor, it seems strange that they have a tendency to explode whenever they're even nicked by a blaster shot. Rather than offering protection, the suits offer a portable electric chair to anyone silly enough to put them on. I should warn you that the following footage is somewhat graphic."
 

On screen: A trooper takes a shot to the head, and is decapitated. Another takes a shot to the knee, and his chest explodes. Another is grazed by a shot, and electrical sparks surge over his entire body, killing him. Finally, a trooper is hit in the head with an ewok sling. His facemask implodes, and blood sprays out, hitting the camera lens.
 

The technicians in the room shook their heads, queasy.
 

Jerjerrod continued scratching himself.
 

"As you can see, the protective armor is anything but. It almost seems to have been deliberately designed in order to triple casualty rates among our troops. Is it any wonder some of them have marched nude in protest?"
 

Jerjerrod farted loudly. "Look boys, it's the same story every year. I remember what those things were like. If they'd give me the funding, I'd look into it, but they don't. Jesus Christ, they don't give me the money to keep our toilets safe."
 

"But sir, we've developed some alternate designs that would not only afford more protection, but would be less expensive to produce..."
 

"Are you fuckin' crazy? If something's better, it costs more. Doesn't matter how much money you save in production. That's the way the world works."
 

The presenter paused, trying to salvage the presentation.
 

"Uhh...but sir, at least let us show you some designs with alternate color schemes. You must admit, stark white doesn't offer much in the way of camouflage."
 

"Look boys," Jerjerrod got up and walked to the door. "I've got things to do. Everybody knows being a Tightie Whitie is the shittiest shit detail in the galaxy. I hated it too. And you know how I dealt with it?"
 

"How, sir?"
 

"Promotion." Jerjerrod walked out the door. "Now get back to your posts, shitbirds."
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Luke and Vader stood in the turbolift. Both were silent.
 

Luke strained against the handcuffs he was wearing.
 

"I don't see why I have to be here."
 

Vader sighed. "Just talk to him for a few minutes. He's old, you know."
 

"So are you."
 

"Do it for your old man, huh? I fixed your cock, didn't I?"
 

"Considering the fact that you cut it off in the first place, I don't think the condition of my prick is much of a bargaining chip for you."
 

"Come on. It'll make the old man happy."
 

"Search your feelings, father. You can't do this. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate."
 

Vader was silent for a moment. "It's too late for me, son. The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force. He is your master now."
 

Luke shrugged, turning away from him. "Then my father is truly an asshole."
 

"No more lip, huh? We're here."
 

The turbolift jerked to a stop, and the door opened on the throne room. The lift was too low, however, forcing Luke and Vader to climb up onto the floor. They stood up, dusting themselves off.
 

Luke adjusted the crotch of his pants. "Christ, doesn't anything around here work?" He and Vader picked their way among the cots and walked over to the Emperor's throne, which was facing away from them. The throne slowly rotated, revealing Palpatine, sitting casually with one wrinkled leg thrown over an armrest. Palpatine coughed. "Welcome, young Skywalker. I've been expecting you. You won't be needing those." Palpatine motioned with an index finger, and the handcuffs slipped off of Luke's
wrist. "I'm looking forward to completing your training." He lifted his gown, revealing his congested cock. "Soon, you'll call this 'Master.'"
 

Luke grimaced in disgust, turning away. "Oh, man! You are so gravelly mistaken it's not even funny."
 

"Oh, no, young jedi. You will find that it is you who are mistaken, about a great many things."
 

Luke laughed. "No, old man. Trust me on this one. I'm right. Do you realize how fundamentally unappealing you are?"
 

Palpatine threw his other leg over the armrest and rubbed the inside of his thigh. "The Force is a powerful ally."
 

Luke smiled. "Senator Palpatine, you're trying to seduce me. I mean, I'm flattered and all, but..."
 

Vader broke in, handing Luke's lightsaber to the Emperor.
 

"His lightsaber."
 

"Ah, a jedi's weapon." Palpatine took it and ignited it. The bent yellow beam flashed irregularly. He passed his hand through it several times without injury. "Hmmph. Much like your father's. A piece of crap. But don't worry. I can give you something even better." Palpatine began stroking his engorged cock.
 

Luke frowned, nauseated. "Your overconfidence is your weakness. My stomach is mine."
 

Palpatine continued to stimulate himself. "You want this, don't you? The blood is swelling in you now."
 

"Haven't we been through this already? Look, Emperor," Luke took a step closer. "I respect you and everything. You've done a lot of great things. But I don't find you in the least bit attractive. I'm sorry."
 

Palpatine stared back at Luke, his yellow eyes boring into him. "Here you will witness the end of your insignificant teenage rebellion. With each passing moment you make yourself more my servant!"
 

Luke shrugged and approached Vader, lowering his voice. "Man, this guy is divorced from reality. I think it's time to consider putting him in a home." He turned to the Emperor, clearing his throat. "I'm sorry, your highness. I'm a Jedi. Like my father before me. I've got a get-in-the-pussy-free card from one side of this galaxy to the other. I have no particular reason or desire to get busy with you."
 

Palpatine glared at him furiously, then slowly stood up. "So be it...Jedi."
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Jerjerrod stumbled down a corridor, reeking of Rootleaf. Passers-by awkwardly got out of his way. He glared at them, drunk.
 

"Get ready to fuck! You fuckin' fuckers! You fuckers!" He slapped one stormtrooper sharply as they passed each other. "Don't you fuckin' look at me!"
 

He turned and began kicking a wall furiously, talking to himself out loud. "Now I understand why they call this station 'she.' I give, she takes. And takes and takes! Fuckin' bitch!"

He gave the wall a particularly sharp kick and sprained his ankle. He fell to the floor.
 

A passing technician stopped and crouched down next to him.
 

"Sir, are you alright?"
 

Jerjerrod clutched the technician's shoulder and began weeping on it. "I'm too short for this shit. I just wanted to cook. I just wanted to learn to fuckin' cook! Then I get this motherfuckin' chickenshit detail...It's not fair...It's not fuckin' fair!"
 

"Well..." the technician fumbled for words. "Sometimes life isn't fair, you know? It can really kick you in the ass. God knows I know." He paused, thinking. "I worked for years to get posted on this station. After my father died my mother had to take two jobs to put me through the Imperial Academy. Eventually it was too much for her. She was a strong woman, but her heart gave out. She was everything to me. When she was gone, I just wanted to give up, but I knew I couldn't. I owed it to her. So I struggled through it. I couldn't give up after all she'd sacrificed. And I didn't. I took the worst details there were. I did duty in the anus cosmos. It was tough, but I had to do it for her."

The technician paused, his voice swelling with emotion. "Whenever I wanted to throw in the towel I'd see her face. I'd see her face the day we found out I'd been accepted to the academy.
 

She knew she'd have to take another job to keep the family together. And she knew she wouldn't last long. She cried that day. But not because she was sad for herself. It was because she was happy for me. I can see her right now like it was yesterday. I can see the tears that welled up in her eyes when I read the acceptance letter. As clear as if she was standing in front of me right now. And those tears aren't just water. The memory of them is like my rocket fuel. It keeps me going, right through the worst that life can throw at me."
 

Jerjerrod was speechless. The technician slowly pulled him to his feet, straightening out his uniform for him. "There are 15,000 serving personnel on this station. And every one of them has a story like mine. Like yours. Every one of them is a human being, with hopes, regrets, dreams, nightmares. We're all in it together. If I were you I'd try to keep that in mind whenever things get you really down. Remember that the Death Star isn't just a big hunk of metal. The Death Star is about people. A community of people from all over the galaxy, from every different walk of life, coming together for a shared purpose. Coming together because they believe in the same things and are willing to make sacrifices for those beliefs."
 

The technician rubbed his hand on one of the corridor walls, and laughed softly. "It's a funny name, you know. 'The Death Star.' It's funny because what this station is really about isn't death at all, but life. It's a sacred vessel. It holds so much more than these steel walls can contain. It holds the future. And we've got to embrace the promise of the future, no matter how tough the present gets. We owe it to those who came before us...and those who'll come after. Nothing else is as important. Now are you alright, sir?"
 

Jerjerrod blinked at him, groggy. "What's your name?"
 

"Ensign Rodriguez, sir."
 

"What level are we on?"
 

"AA23."
 

Jerjerrod shook his head. "I should have known. Rodriguez?"
 

"Yes, sir?"
 

"I have to take a shit."
 
 
 

*********
 
 
 

Palpatine rubbed his hands together. "If you will not be turned, you will be...zapped with lightning bolts!"
 

Blue bolts of energy shot out of his fingers, blasting Luke across the throne room. He landed on top of one of the cots, breaking it. He coughed in the smoke, rolling onto the floor.
 

"Uhh...what the fuck was that?"
 

Palpatine made his way across the room, laughing. "A little trick I learned in a bar on Kessel. I bet you thought the most the Force can do is move stuff around. Young fool. Only now, at the end, do you understand. The Force can make lightning bolts come out of your fingers!"
 

Luke was suddenly blasted again, and sent rolling across the floor in agony. "Aaarrghhh!! Ben, why didn't you tell me?!
 

Lightning bolts!?"
 

"Your feeble skills are no match for the power of lightning bolts. You pay the price for your lack of vision." Palpatine grinned like a demon, his rotting teeth glistening. He drooled lasciviously onto his hospital gown. "Now, young Skywalker...your days of prickteasing are over. You, like your father, ar now...mine. And right now, I like you more."
 

Palpatine stood over Luke, and rolled him onto his belly. He pulled Luke's pants down and clapped his hands. "Guards! K-Y!"
 

An Imperial guard approached with a small tin of K-Y jelly. The guard began rubbing it over Luke's rectum, while the Emperor rubbed some on his cock.
 

Luke struggled weakly under the Emperor's weight. "Time out, time out. I can be reasonable."
 

"That time is passed."
 

Luke yelled out. "Father? Do something, would you?"
 

Vader, who was sitting casually on the Emperor's throne, put down the magazine he'd been reading. "What?"
 

"He's gonna fuck me up the ass!"
 

Vader chortled. "Like that'll be a new experience."
 

"That's not the point. He's a disgusting old man."
 

Vader looked back down at his magazine. "Well, you should have thought of that before."
 

Palpatine hissed. "Silence! Now witness the firepower of this fully armed and operational disgusting old man!" Palpatine shoved his cock sharply up Luke's ass. Luke yelled out in pain.
 

"Owww!! Goddamnit!!" Luke's face contorted in pain. "I've got a fucking terrible feeling about this! Father!"
 

Vader looked up from his magazine again, annoyed. "What now?"
 

"He's fucking me up the ass!"
 

"And the rebel forces are massing near Sullust. We hold these truths to be self-evident. What do you want me to do about it?"
 

"Stop him! This really hurts."
 

"How?"
 

"I don't know. Pick him up and throw him down the reactor shaft or something!"
 

"Are you kidding? He's my master."
 

"I'm your son!"
 

"Let me finish this article, then I'll think about it." Vader turned the page, mentally drowning out the sound of Luke's screams.
 
 
 

*********
 

Jerjerrod and Rodriguez saw a pair of armed stormtroopers standing in front of the entrance to the toilet. The stormtroopers saluted stiffly. Jerjerrod waved his hand in reply.
 

"Alright, boys, I'm relieving you."
 

The troopers looked at each other, nervous. One spoke up.
 

"Uh...sir, we have orders not to leave our posts until our replacements are already here. And our shift isn't over for another four hours."
 

"You've got new orders. The relief is on the way. Rodriguez and I will guard the thing until they get here."
 

"Ahh...I'm sorry, sir, but we really can't leave. I'm going to have to ask you to step away from the door. We have orders to use deadly force if necessary."
 

Jerjerrod squinted at them. "Okay, boys, fine. Just testing you." He turned away from them, then suddenly whirled and kicked one of the troopers in the groin with his sprained foot. The trooper's groin exploded in a bright shower of sparks. He crumpled to the deck, dead. Jerjerrod howled with the pain from his foot, falling on his ass.
 

Rodriguez crouched down in front of Jerjerrod, blocking him from the view of the remaining stormtrooper, who was brandishing his rifle.
 

"Don't move!"
 

Jerjerrod quietly slipped a tiny blaster from his belt.
 

Rodriguez saw the blaster, and his eyes widened. "I love you."
 

Jerjerrod smiled. "I know." He pushed Rodriguez aside and fired the weapon at the trooper point blank. His facemask exploded, and the headless body ran up against the opposite wall, covering it with blood before it slumped in a heap.
 

Jerjerrod got up. Rodriguez looked at him in shock. "Why did you do that?"
 

"I thought you wanted me to."
 

"My God no!"
 

"Then how should I interpret the 'I love you' remark?"
 

"I told you I loved you because I assumed you weren't going to use your weapon. I loved the strength that I sensed in you. The strength not to resort to violence. The compassion for your fellow crewmen. Didn't you hear anything I was saying back there? We're here to nurture life, not to..."
 

Another blast from Jerjerrod's pistol cut Rodriguez short. He slipped to his knees, clutching his sizzling groin. He looked at Jerjerrod with a confused, hurt expression on his face.
 

"Our...our children...will remember."
 

Jerjerrod fired another blast into his face, vaporizing it.
 

"Sure, sure. When you get to hell, say hi to your mom for me."
 
 
 

*********
 

"Father, please!!"
 

"Wait a second." Vader began skimming the rest of the article.
 

Palpatine, half delirious with lust, continued pumping away, grinning maniacally. "You can squeal, can't you Jedi? Squeal like a pig?"
 

"Father!! Now would be a good time!!"
 

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming." Vader put the magazine aside and strolled over. He gently slipped his arms around Palpatine's body and started tugging on him.
 

"Vader! What are you doing?"
 

"Come on, master. I think you've had enough for one day. Time for bed."
 

"No!" Palpatine began struggling, grabbing Luke's hips and holding tight, while still clutching the jar of K-Y in his left hand. Vader ended up dragging both of them. Luke cried out in pain.
 

"Get him out of me!"
 

"I'm trying, son. You know how politicians get." Vader reached around front and grasped the Emperor's penis, trying to pull it out. It crackled with electrical charge, shocking Vader and forcing him to withdraw his hand.
 

Palpatine laughed. "You can't stop me now! I'M COMING!!"
 

"Shit!" Luke exclaimed. "Get him out of me now. He's gonna blow!"
 

Vader looked at Luke's agonized face, then at the Emperor. Then back at Luke, then back at the Emperor. And again. One more time. And once again.
 

Luke screamed, "WELL ANY FUCKING TIME, SWEETHEART!!"
 

Bracing himself, Vader gripped Palpatine's cock and wrenched it out of Luke's ass. Lifting the Emperor up in the air, he began carrying him over to the walkway which traversed the reactor shaft.
 

Pure energy from the Emperor's cock surged through Vader's body, wracking him with pain and nearly overloading his systems.
 

Palpatine screeched in ecstasy. "COMMENCE PRIMARY IGNITION!!!"
 

Before Vader could pitch him over the railing, Palpatine's penis dissolved into a glowing white light. The light penetrated the entire throne room, blinding all who looked at it. Vader fell back onto the floor in a daze. When the light died down, all that was left of Palpatine was his hospital gown, hanging empty in the air. It fluttered softly to the floor, followed by the K-Y jar, which fell on top of it.
 

Luke slowly dragged himself to his feet, then staggered over to the gown, rubbing his sore ass. He prodded the gown with his foot, satisfying himself that Palpatine was no more.
 

From the floor, Vader called out weakly, unable to move.
 

"Luke...son..."
 

Luke glared at him. "What?"
 

"Help me take...this mask..."
 

"Fuck you." Luke stumbled into the turbolift.
 

*********
 

Jerjerrod stood up from the toilet, buckling his pants. His blaster lay on top of the tank. For a moment he gazed at the large turd he'd just deposited, quietly floating in the bowl. Then his finger came to rest on the handle. He hesitated, remembering Rodriguez's words. Then he stood up and straightened his uniform. He looked at himself in the mirror, then began combing his hair.
 

"I must be fuckin' nuts."
 

"No argument there." The voice startled Jerjerrod and he spun around. Oola was standing calmly in the doorway, levelling a blaster at him.
 

"Oola? What are you doing here?"
 

"I thought you might try something stupid like this. Get away from the toilet."
 

"It's okay, I wasn't going to flush it. I was just about to call someone."
 

"Back away, or I'll fucking blast you, I mean it."
 

Jerjerrod put on a pained expression. "Come on, baby, don't do me like this. Don't you trust me?"
 

"Trust you? You're a fuckin' wacko."
 

"What about us?"
 

"'Us'? No such thing. There's 'Me' and then there's 'You.' No 'Us.' Did you think I actually enjoyed all that sick shit?"
 

"You...you little green whore. It didn't mean anything to you?"
 

Oola pointed the blaster at his head. "Dick."
 

Jerjerrod stared at her blankly, devastated. "This is...madness. Madness!!" He grabbed his blaster off the tank, ducking and firing. Oola returned fire, and both scored direct hits. Oola sank to the floor, mortally wounded, while Jerjerrod was blasted up against the wall.
 

Oola's tentacles began flailing wildly about her head.
 

Jerjerrod, clutching his bleeding stomach, gazed in disbelief. His eyes fluttered as he began losing consciousness.
 

The blaster fell from his fingers. "What have I done?" With that, he fell forward, catching the toilet handle in his cuff. It was pulled down. The water in the bowl began to swirl...
 

*********
 

While still inside the turbolift, Luke felt a great rumbling begin deep within the station. Then the lift lurched, and a deafening alarm began sounding. Red emergency lights snapped on, and a computerized female voice sounded over the intercom.
 

"PLUMBING SEQUENCE INTERRUPTED ON LEVEL AA23. STATION WILL AUTOMATICALLY DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS FIVE MINUTES."
 

Luke sighed. "Beautiful." He punched level AA23 on the turbolift panel. After a few moments, the door opened.
 

Luke walked out into the corridor, and was nearly knocked down by a torrent of frantic personnel. Picking his way determinedly among them, he came to the toilet and entered it.
 

Stepping over Oola's and Jerjerrod's bodies, he looked down into the toilet bowl. It was completely clogged, and the water was beginning to overflow. Without hesitation, Luke flipped open a small panel adjacent to the toilet which read "FLUSHING UNIT."

Inside were two handles, both of which were in the OFF position. He grabbed them and pulled them up. He then tried flushing the toilet again. No change.
 

Luke went back out into the hallway, and went over to one of the emergency intercoms. "Mother! I've turned the flushing unit back on! Mother!!"
 

"STATION WILL AUTOMATICALLY DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS FOUR MINUTES."
 

"You bitch!!"
 

*********
 

Luke emerged into the main landing bay, finding himself in the middle of an enormous battle. The personnel were fighting over the insufficient lifeboats and emergency vehicles. Blaster shots reverberated everywhere, and the entire bay was thick with the smell of ozone.
 

Across the bay, a lone stormtrooper was protecting an Imperial shuttle, which had been converted into a school bus. A group of terrified toddlers huddled behind him as he fired shots into the advancing mob.
 

"Come on, you bastards! We must evacuate the children first!"
 

Angry cries of 'Fuck the children!' and 'Eat me!' could be heard in response. Luke sized up the situation and began making his way over to the shuttle.
 

He was halfway across the bay, continuously dodging blaster fire, when he found that he was dragging something with his foot. He looked down. It was Vader, clinging to his ankle.
 

"How the fuck did you get down here?"
 

"I'm not totally decrepit, you know. You can't leave me here, you've got to save me!"
 

"I already have, father. Believe me, I already have." Luke began shaking his foot, trying to disengage himself. "Now let go, goddamnit! No time to discuss this in committee."
 

"STATION WILL AUTOMATICALLY DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS TWO MINUTES."
 

"Luke! Help me take this mask off."
 

"What's in it for me?"
 

"Just for once, let me look on you with my own eyes."
 

"It's just a helmet, for Christ's sake. I'm not going to look any different."
 

"It's symbolic."
 

"Well why didn't you say so before?"
 

"I did say so before."
 

Luke smirked, then reached down and snatched a blaster off the floor. He aimed it and Vader's forearms and fired, blowing both of them off.
 

"Aaagghhh!!" Vader rolled onto his back. "How can you do this to me?"
 

"What can I say, Dad? My hate has made me powerful." Luke blew him a raspberry and took off across the bay.
 

Meanwhile, the trooper was still desperately trying to protect the shuttle. "These children have to be saved. They're the future!!"
 

Luke began blasting his way through the crowd, felling personnel left and right. "Excuse me, excuse me. Comin' through, look out." Finally he walked up next to the stormtrooper, who stared at him quizzically. "It's okay, sunshine," Luke reassured him, "I'll take it from here." With that, he shot the trooper point blank in the face.
 

The mob began to surge forward. Luke held them at bay. "Wait a second, wait a second!!"
 

The mob answered: "WHAT?"
 

("STATION WILL AUTOMATICALLY DESTRUCT IN T-MINUS ONE MINUTE.")
 

"I'm commandeering this shuttle in the name of the Force."
 

"FUCK THE FORCE! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU? LET'S SEE SOME IDENTIFICATION."
 

Luke concentrated with all his might, trying to let the Force flow through him and into the minds of the mob. "You don't need to see my identification."
 

The members of the mob stared at him for a moment, silent, before responding. "GIVE US THE FUCKIN' IDENTIFICATION!"
 

Luke closed his eyes and concentrated harder. "You will leave this shuttle and these toddlers to me."
 

"UHH...WE WILL LEAVE THIS SHUTTLE AND THESE TODDLERS TO YOU."
 

"You serve your master well."
 

"WE SERVE OUR MASTER WELL."
 

"You like rewards, don't you?"
 

"WE LIKE REWARDS, DON'T WE?"
 

"Well, don't worry, you'll be rewarded."
 

"WELL, DON'T WORRY, WE'LL BE REWARDED."
 

Luke smirked and spoke under his breath. "In hell."
 

"WHAT?"
 

"Nothing. I can go about my business."
 

"YOU CAN GO ABOUT YOUR BUSINESS."
 

Luke motioned for the kids to get into the shuttle. "Move along."
 

"MOVE ALONG. MOVE ALONG."
 

Luke followed the children up the boarding ramp, and closed it. One of the toddlers tugged on his pant leg.
 

"Sir?"
 

"What?"
 

"How did you do that? I thought we were dead."
 

"The Force can have a strong influence on those with shit for brains." Luke walked over to the controls, and started the ship's engine. "Okay, you little bastards, hold on tight. The ride is just beginning."

When the engines were warmed up, Luke began easing the shuttle out of the bay, which was rapidly disintegrating. When the ship was clear, he floored it, leaving the ailing Death Star behind.

It receded rapidly in the distance. After a few more seconds there was a blinding flash, and a shock wave which rocked the shuttle, spilling the toddlers out of their seats. When the shock wave was over, Luke sighed in relief.
 

"Whew! That was one for the record books." He got up and faced the children. "So, you kids want to sing a song or something? How about 'Old MacDonald'? Know that one?"
 

The children shook their heads.
 

"'Knick-Knack Paddywack'?"
 

They shook their heads again.
 

"'Broken Hearts are for Assholes'?"
 

Nothing.

Luke gave up. "Ah, fuck it. Let's just get down to business, then, shall we?" Luke stretched luxuriously, then began stripping off his clothes. He undid his coveralls and slipped out of them.

While the children watched, he stripped down to a white tee-shirt and g-string.
 

One of the children raised his hand. "Sir?"
 

"Yup."
 

"Why are you taking your clothes off?"
 

"Ah, the ignorance of youth. Kind of a ritualistic purification thing. Reaffirming my sexuality."
 

"Aren't those ladies' underpants, sir?"
 

"Yes, they are. Alright, kids, listen up. I'm gonna get some rope out of the storage closet here, and we're gonna play a little game. It's called, 'Adjusting the Horizontal Boosters.' If you don't know it, don't worry. You'll pick it up as we go along."
 

Luke walked over to the storage closet and began picking through it, pushing aside a pressure suit. He was untangling a length of rope when suddenly something black and hard struck him in the face.
 

Luke fell backward, dazed. He looked up slowly, and saw that Vader had somehow hidden himself in a mass of piping, blending into the wall of the ship. He had struck Luke with one of his stumps.

Slowly, Vader uncoiled himself and fell out onto the floor.
 

"Son," Vader said, dragging himself across the floor, "We've got to have a serious talk. And I still want you to take this mask off me."
 

"Shit, don't you ever stop? I hate double endings." Luke pulled himself to his feet, yanked the pressure suit out of the closet, and began putting it on.
 

Vader looked up at him. "Look, I know I haven't been the best father. I won't kid myself. But I deserve better than this. Give me a break, huh?"
 

When Luke had finished putting the pressure suit on, he carefully strapped himself into the control chair. One of the children spoke up.
 

"Sir, what are you doing?"
 

"Never mind."
 

"Luke," Vader's breathing was labored as he inched ever closer. "You have only begun to discover your power."
 

Luke let his fingers play over the airlock control panel.
 

"You...are my...Lucky...Star..."
 

"Come on, son, don't start with the 'Lucky Star' shit. Let me make it up to you!"
 

"How?"
 

"Well...uh...wait a second...You know you were right. You were right about me. Tell your sister you were right. I was wrong."
 

Luke shook his head. "That's it, huh? Admitting you were wrong? Goddamn, Pop, I expected more from you. Looks like anybody can be a Sith lord these days. Anyhow, don't forget to button up. It's cold out there."
 

Vader beat the floor in frustration. "Oh...Fuck you, you snot-assed little cocksucker!! What did I do to deserve you? Why didn't I wear a fuckin' prophylactic?!!"

"Good question." Luke slammed the AIRLOCK OPEN button, and the entire atmosphere of the shuttle was whisked out into space.

The toddlers were swept off their seats and through the hatch, where they began bursting in the vacuum like firecrackers. Vader was dragged along the floor, but managed to grab onto a pipe with what was left of one of his arms. As his grip weakened, he hissed at Luke, but no sound was possible. Finally he gave up and let go, freeing his arms to make every obscene gesture he could think of as he disappeared into the void. When he was gone from sight, Luke closed the hatch and began repressurizing the cabin.

*********

Luke, dressed in a filmy white nightgown, sat in front of the control panel, making his final log entry.

"Final report of the Imperial Death Star. Luke Skywalker, Jedi knight, reporting. All the other motherfuckers on the station, who cares what their names were, are on their way to hell.

I don't think too many flags'll be at half-mast over that. Cargo and station destroyed. That's too bad. A lot of money."

Luke thought of all the resources which had been lost when that Death Star exploded. Enough to keep an entire planet's population wealthy for centuries. He found tears welling in his eyes at the thought of all that lost capital. He wiped them away and continued with the log.

"I should reach the frontier in about six weeks. With a little luck, the network will pick me up. This is Luke Skywalker, Jedi fuckin' knight, signing off."

Luke flipped off the log recorder, then paused, thinking. He flipped it back on again.

"And if the network doesn't pick me up, fuck 'em. I've always hated networking anyway."