“Commander McVae, plot a course for BZT173690-HRW373028,” boomed the deep, metallic, voice.
“But Lord Vimto, we have express instructions to hold our current position.” The man speaking did so with a tangible hint of concern.
Vimto surveyed the star destroyer’s bridge, all hands were busily avoiding making any kind of eye-contact with the Imperial Lord. Heads bowed studiously down over the various flight deck instruments.
“Do not disappoint me McVae. I am telling you to plot a course for the BZT173690-HRW373028. It is an order.”
“But Lord Vi…glgglglglgglglglldlargahgahaghahhaahhaaggghhhh!”
Commander McVae fell to the floor, his convulsing body in the final throws of death was immediately and efficiently dragged away by Vimto’s DY-son-3PO cleaner droid. “BING! Clean as you go, clean as you go. BING!” said the droid.
A hush so deathly it would be difficult to imagine and impossible to describe fell on the star ship bridge. The silence was broken as the exiting cleaner droid dragged McVae’s limp body out through the blast doors and into the service lift.
Whooshswish…thud, b’dump... wooshswishDING! went the blast doors.
“What?” said Vimto. Although no one had dared question the Imperial Lord’s actions, his voice had risen with an inflection intended to impress upon the assembled listeners his absolute innocence in any perceived wrongdoing “What? Ow, come on,” he said.
Someone “tutted” on the far side of the bridge.
“Right! Right! Who said that? Nobody move. Come on. If you’ve got something to say, you can say it to my face,” demanded Vimto. “I’m not going anywhere until you own up. Come on.”
No one stirred.
Vimto waited.
No one stirred.
“Right, well. If that’s the way you want to play it. I’m going to go to my quarters now to have a little sleep. If we’re not heading towards BZT173690-HRW373028 by the time I get back, I’m going to be really rather cross,” said Vimto before storming off the bridge.
Whooshswish….. wooshswishDING! went the blast doors.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
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