Wednesday, August 31, 2005

trooper looting

Another explosion in the East Wing of the battle station has destroyed most of the quadrant, killing about 36 people. Booty is again the primary suspect behind this new wave of suicide bombings, and he has yet to be located within the mountainous terrain of the storage facility. Worse yet, and showing a complete lack of morality or common decency, the Tie Troopers have begun looting within their own quadrant. This is by far the lowest form of life anyone, including the Tie Troopers, could stoop to.

These cockroaches of human existence have broken into multiple ration-shed storage compartments, as well as those containing housing supplies, frozen goods, weapon depots, and others to name, all because they are the lowest form of life one would ever conceive of cloning. It has become a state of civil unrest, and more of my troops have been called in to maintain order and retrieve the poor and wounded, however they have recently come under blaster fire by these looters who are enjoying this brief state of anarchy. Once I feel we have been able to collect those few troopers who are wounded or still trapped under debris, I shall order the east wing sealed off at all ends. I will then order the water valves open, with hopes of drowning out these few sub-standard forms of life pillaging the area.

As for Booty, several regiments have been dispatched among the surrounding quadrants in a door to door sweep of the area. Given the sheer size of the location, this measure should last no more than a few weeks at the latest.

Monday, August 29, 2005

an unlikely interruption

The strangest thing happened today, while inspecting the newly-cast hall interiors of our lodging quarters. These new paneling have the ability to withstand close-rang blaster rounds, which, ultimately add to the overall safety of my committee members and other prominent staffers. While in the midst of my work, the strangest little creature came running out of Vader’s quarters, naked, screaming the most god-awful, banshee-like shrieks of terror I have ever heard. There have been reports of such disturbances in this quarter over the last few weeks, but nothing physical was ever witnessed. Only the screams were heard. I thought my men to be somewhat mad at the time. Anyway…

The creature was indescribable. It was only about three feet tall and its skin was so dark that I couldn’t make out any features other than its glowing, yellow eyes. I couldn’t even see the mouth where the intolerable noise was emanating from. The dreadful thing ran right through us and continued down the corridor where we eventually lost sight of it. Trooper 1728, who had been aiding me at the time, stated that from his experience and knowledge of foreign lands, that the creature appeared to be a Jawa,.. and pregnant at that. I tried contacting Vader, but it appeared that he did not wish to answer his door. I did hear him breathing in there, however, and it was somewhat muffled, as if he were trying to hide from me.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

urgency abound

The titanium lifters needed in a crucial portion of this “Death Star’s” planet-killer ray beam arrived yesterday, and the men have been laboring in tremendous efforts to meet the deadline posted. We have also been rapping our heads together to agree upon a new name for the contraption, for, I fear the name I have chosen has become quite the celebrity in talking points around the station, and with much embarrassment I see. I would generally not be pushing so hard on such a project that is years from completion, but with the advent of my soon –to-be ex-wife’s re-emergence on scene, I am strongly anticipating a point in time where I can blow that friggin’ planet of Alderon out of existence.

Recently, my ex has contacted the Senate in regards to the beating laid upon Mitch and his permanent vegetative state. She is fighting to enact a law prohibiting what she feels is discrimination towards her new man, now that he can no longer do any work to support himself. She is demanding the Senate step in and force his former employer, Senator Organa himself, to resume Mitch’s original salary on a permanent basis, even though he can no longer work. I don’t know. Personally, I don’t see the point, but all the more reason to destroy that fu#%ing planet. If they buy in to her lunacy over this whole incident brought on by Mitch, himself, then it is only a matter of time before they look to start drafting his disability out of my salary. Now you understand my urgency to complete this Planet-killer ray beam thing. Those damn Organas!

Monday, August 22, 2005

lavatory horror

It quickly came to my attention today regarding proper equipment in the men’s lavatory that has yet to be addressed. Most embarrassingly, and equally making me just as angry on a separate note, would be the utter disregard of personal privacy among men when encamped in toilet stalls engaged in private affairs of their own nature. Regardless of my natural reason for needing use of the station’s “high command” lavatory, it is commonly assumed, yet, I dare even say practiced among civilized officers to announce themselves when entering an area of such sensitivity by knocking, or so I thought.

I was already having enough trouble maintaining the stall door with one hand, seeing as how the door latch was broken again, all the while squatting as steadily as one can without risking a mess, when one of my Captains rushed through the main door causing a startling commotion that I was unprepared for. Given the sudden scare, I lost control of the door, which was now rendered fully open, exposing me slightly hovering over the toilet with my pants among my ankles and my left hand suddenly reaching to cover my man-hood. Although I knew what I was doing originally, apparently my semblance to the passing officer sent quite the opposite impression. He stopped, suddenly apologized for interrupting me, and then quickly backed himself out of the room without taking his eyes off of me… I never moved. I was so infuriated that I hunched there motionless for several minutes in my current state reeling about the impression left in that officer’s mind and the rumors that would soon follow… It's not enough that the stress of the last few weeks has become a serious problem with my irregularity, that now I shall have this to contend with, too. Needless to say, the one responsible for the faulty door latch will be found and properly delt with. For now, however, the main lavatory is reserved for my use only.

Thursday, August 18, 2005

Slipped through our fingers

Well, it has happened. I consented to an unannounced grid search within the East Wing on the battle station in a surprise move to uproot Mohammed, and it worked. …or so I thought. The information previously relayed to one of my confidants in the midst of pillow talk was nothing more than a well-planned rouse to get us to bite, and we did,.. hook, line, and sinker. For the man taken into custody was, in fact a Tie Trooper, however he was nothing more than a painted decoy that allowed the real Boody to slip through a previously well-guarded area of risk. Boody has, in point of fact, been freed of our initial perimeter of the inner wing and is now moving into a bordering area heavily stocked with almost “mountainous” clad storage containers which stretch for miles within the station. This area has not been well-mapped, and due to its almost rugged, shielded terrain, Boody can now clad himself in the many make-shift caverns which will take us weeks to find.

Supporters of this criminal are beginning to grow at a steadfast pace within the level of Tie-Troopers, once more. Under my new orders, a new, more educated clone series of these Tie-Class, spirited in the cause of serving the empire as originally intended, are currently engaged in new training, which will allow them to patrol their own kind as soon as possible, permitting a future reduction in the Empire’s best troops in this sector.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Pelosi's Intervention

Today during a council meeting the subject of prisoner treatment was raised concerning a band or rebels. A number of these rebels had been captured during an assault on one of our planetary properties and are temporarily being detained in make-shift cells, while proper structures are being erected on that planet to house them. It is no secret that once I obtain the information needed from these rebels that they will be properly “processed.” Councilwoman Pelosi has once again attempted to derail our means of operation by suggesting that, although we are at war with these people, they are to be given humane treatment and proper lodgings through out their tenure with us. This raised open debate on the frail lunacies harbored within Pelosi’s little mind by the rest of the council. Pelosi held firm in her convictions against the “tyrannical tirade” she accused this administration of being on and claimed a dialogue was needed with these people, not war. For that, she claimed, will make them hate us all the more … ???

Pelosi’s actions are growing more and more seditious towards this administration, and, short to say, against the Emperor himself. Her evolving lists of micro-managing details concerning her personal agenda to undermine this structure are evermore increasing to a point of heresy, and the Emperor is being made full-aware of this detail. For now, however, Pelosi was remanded into a cell with the rebels she so claimed to care about, who beat her senseless out of shear hatred and left her for dead, after only a few minutes. Troops then carried her to her lodgings to recuperate before the next meeting. I would assume she has learned a valuable lesson.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Hmmmph ??

Vader's standing has been called into question by several of the troopers, though none will admit to it publicly. It isn't that they aren't afraid of the man, because they most certainly are, it's just that their having to smuggle in a Jawa for the creep really got under their skin. This was especially the case, according to annonymous witnesses, when Vader's breathing rapidly increased in a vile, joyous manner upon taking possession of the ape-like animal thing with a robe,.. I don't know what the hell it is and I fear to think of what it will be for. But, what can you do? I briefly mentioned the awkwardness to him in private, but the bastard actually growled at me. I don't know. Maybe it's just a phase. Hell, for all I know everything's well, and it's simply my imagination running wild as with the troopers. Time will tell... That poor f@^king jawa thing.

Friday, August 12, 2005

Still Stewed

I’ve been back now for almost two days, yet I haven’t thought of anything else other than Mitch Organa and the brutal thrashing I gave him. My wife even had the nerve to call me this morning and express her so called “outrage” of my actions. She said that she loved him more now than ever, regardless of his quadriplegic state and hated me all the more for it. Mitch’s brother, Senator Organa, even called crying about his brother and leveling accusations against me but was soon reminded of his standing within this Empire and his utter lack of importance thereof… I honestly don’t care what is thought of me right now. Mitch Organa had no business messing with a married woman, especially one married to a friggin’ Moff who has no quam about scuttling his ass… Home wrecker.

My nose is still sore, but at least the swelling has finally started to go down a bit. On the brighter, though lower note, the droids appear to be working out fine, and I seem to have gained somewhat of a “scrapper” reputation among some of my troopers. Time to put my career ahead of me now and get back on track with the construction of the battle station, as well as with the dealings of domestic policy concerning the Tie Troopers and the malevolent Boody. As for Organa’s planet, I will deal with it in time.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

A broken heart... and nose

I have been away from my station for a period of days due to extensive travel with regards to my positional duties, and, I feel, should have been better had I simply stayed at home. Maintenance of this new station has forced my hand at acquiring a series of distinct droids to manage the duties of my now defunct Tie-Trooper class, due to thier lack of motivation and growing apathy towards the empire. I left over a week ago and traveled to several disting planets to view first hand the top models and state of the art prototypes now in circulation

I first made arrival on the panet of Tatoo, or something to that effect, all I know is that it is a miserable place, hot and dry, run by a friggin' slug named Hutt. Needless to say, I was shown nothing of substantial quality with regards to newer droids that could have been used for the purposes I had in mind... We did, however, manage to smuggle out a pet Jawa for Vader. (It was a specific request on his part, and I want no part in knowing why) The people are dilusional from what I witnessed before finally leaving, and, strangely, I was almost ravaged by a moisture farmer who kept yelling "you owe me a beer!" ...so, Jawa in hand, we promptly left.

We arrived on Alderon and spoke with Senator Organa who readily accepted us in and advised that his brother, Mitch, had the droids we were looking for and directed us to his location. Mitch was surprised to see me at his door, needles to say, as was my adulterous wife who came to the door with him somewhat intoxicated and scantily dressed. This was an insult of astronomical ends that I fully intended on dealing with. An argument broke out between us. Mitch claimed that I was no good for her, and that she loved him and the two planned on marrying. He poked fun at my facial features, incinuating a significance to the size of my "manhood." We engaged in a fistic confrontation that ended us both on the ground spinning about in the soil scratching and biting, cussing and spitting, finally being pulled apart. We were seperated and held from one another by several troops, all the while I had to listen to that son-of-a-bi#@* taunting me. He had the fu^#ing nerve to challenge me! ME! Stating, "I ain't afraid of you and will fight you any time, anywhere. You choose the place. Be it here and now," or inciting "You want another target, a military target, then name the fu%#ing system."

I no longer have anything to prove, and I will deal with Alderon in time, just as soon as my battle station becomes fully operational. For now, however, I had my wife stand witness as my troops beat Mitch into a vegitative state and his home burned to the ground. As for Senator Organa, he can go fu#@ himself. I found the droids I needed elsewhere and liberated his entire wherehouse of Alderon-rum which I dispersed among my troops and myself during my trip home.