Thirteen hours, mate. Thirteen hours til' the shit hits the fan.
The Empire's blockaded our extra-atmospheric airspace with billions of war-drones. Billions. Now I know war-drones are fairly weak, but with those numbers Emperor Zahn could just have them all fly into our planet and, well, reign doom like an apocalyptic meteor shower. We're totaled.
Yes, I know what he said. He said that he wouldn't dare anger the Assembly by totaling a planet, that all he's doing is blockading us, that it's really nothing more than that. But seriously, those numbers, mate. You don't need nearly half of that to cripple a planet's trade. No, he's really out to get us this time. He's out for blood.
Why's he doing this? I don't know. Maybe he wants to provoke the Assembly, draw them into some sort of war against him. I'm sure a man with this many war-drones has other things up his sleeve, other much bigger, much badder things. Or maybe he's just really angry. Maybe he's just angry at our Spice embargo on him. Maybe he's just thinking that if he can't have our Spice, no one can. No one should.
Or maybe he's thinking about that time our ambassador spilled Sirati wine all over his shirt.
But you know what, I couldn't bloody care about what he wants. My dad's got a saying about these kinds of things: "Trouble is trouble, regardless of the cause". Why should I still be standing around here, talking about all of this, when I could be preparing for my escape? When we could be preparing for our escape? Come on, guys, pack your things: we're getting out of here.
How're we gonna do that? I don't know. My ma left me her Star-yacht when she died, but it's way out in Portsmouth, and I don't think it'll be able to survive against that many drones. And yeah, I know Jeeves has his own ship, but I don't think he'll ever lend that to us: he's the kind of guy that's stupid enough to believe everything he hears from the news. Anne, too, she has a ship, but that'll only fit four people, and it doesn't really have any food-generators: I don't think we're gonna fit in that.
And damn, it is fucking anarchy out there. Everyone's going mad. Unless anyone of you here had any, I dunno, secret caches of weapons here or something, we're never gonna get past that crowd. Our ride's not even gonna make it out the damn garage.
Oh well. We'll think of something.
Anyway, like I said, you better go upstairs, get your things, maybe call a few relatives. I've already got my stuff ready, so I'll just wait for you all here, maybe get the tea on? Would you like some tea while you think?
The Empire's blockaded our extra-atmospheric airspace with billions of war-drones. Billions. Now I know war-drones are fairly weak, but with those numbers Emperor Zahn could just have them all fly into our planet and, well, reign doom like an apocalyptic meteor shower. We're totaled.
Yes, I know what he said. He said that he wouldn't dare anger the Assembly by totaling a planet, that all he's doing is blockading us, that it's really nothing more than that. But seriously, those numbers, mate. You don't need nearly half of that to cripple a planet's trade. No, he's really out to get us this time. He's out for blood.
Why's he doing this? I don't know. Maybe he wants to provoke the Assembly, draw them into some sort of war against him. I'm sure a man with this many war-drones has other things up his sleeve, other much bigger, much badder things. Or maybe he's just really angry. Maybe he's just angry at our Spice embargo on him. Maybe he's just thinking that if he can't have our Spice, no one can. No one should.
Or maybe he's thinking about that time our ambassador spilled Sirati wine all over his shirt.
But you know what, I couldn't bloody care about what he wants. My dad's got a saying about these kinds of things: "Trouble is trouble, regardless of the cause". Why should I still be standing around here, talking about all of this, when I could be preparing for my escape? When we could be preparing for our escape? Come on, guys, pack your things: we're getting out of here.
How're we gonna do that? I don't know. My ma left me her Star-yacht when she died, but it's way out in Portsmouth, and I don't think it'll be able to survive against that many drones. And yeah, I know Jeeves has his own ship, but I don't think he'll ever lend that to us: he's the kind of guy that's stupid enough to believe everything he hears from the news. Anne, too, she has a ship, but that'll only fit four people, and it doesn't really have any food-generators: I don't think we're gonna fit in that.
And damn, it is fucking anarchy out there. Everyone's going mad. Unless anyone of you here had any, I dunno, secret caches of weapons here or something, we're never gonna get past that crowd. Our ride's not even gonna make it out the damn garage.
Oh well. We'll think of something.
Anyway, like I said, you better go upstairs, get your things, maybe call a few relatives. I've already got my stuff ready, so I'll just wait for you all here, maybe get the tea on? Would you like some tea while you think?
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