From: roc@psi.co.at (roc)
Subject: [HUMOR] Gun Control&things of that nature - A tiny bit of fanfic: Duo Imperiale
Date: Fri, 18 Sep 1998 14:03:41 GMT

    Just an idea I had after reading the "How come the Falcon survives
the DS" thread, kindly sparked by Jon Palk. It's short enough not to
raise admonishing eyebrows. :-)
    A NOTE: Since I only have the ANH novel to go by, and there is
only one gunner in there, I took the liberty of inventing new names
for both of them. Enjoy (or at least don't be appalled)!



                         Duo Imperiale



The explosion as the fleeing Rebel corvette's solar panel was hit sent
glittering fragments spinning crazily away through space. The ship
shuddered violently, and then, for lack of any countering force,
continued onward in the same general direction as before. The random
movement was soon arrested, however, by the pursuing Star Destroyer's
powerful tractor beams. The huge Imperial cruiser loomed above its
incapacitated target much in the manner of a carnivore closing in for
the kill.
	Behind turbolaser #14, Grulic Ormes leaned back and put his hands
behind his head, popping his knuckles. 'Told you I'd nail the sucker,'
he told his companion smugly.
	Tal Mandrik, who sat beside him monitoring the weapon's systems,
gave him an old-fashioned look. 'Oh yeah,' he said, 'and you didn't
need more than sixty-seven shots for it.'
	'I never needed sixty-seven shots,' said Ormes with righteous
indignation.
	'You did too.' Mandrik tapped a small readout next to the massive
gun's controls. 'Says here eighty nine shots were fired. And
twenty-two of those you used to blow up that asteroid settlement
earlier.'
	'Well, how was I to know that it was a settlement? It LOOKED like a
frigging asteroid,' said Ormes defensively.
	'With LIGHTS on?'
	'Could've been an abandoned mine or something. Look, I haven't
heard the Commander complain, so don't give me any of that, okay?'
Ormes turned, irritated, and aimlessly began to twiddle some knobs
which didn't need twiddling unless you wanted to deliberately unfocus
the turbolaser.
	Something tumbled by the viewscreen. It was vaguely conical, and
sported four small chemical thrusters, which were, however, not active
at the moment.
	'A life pod,' said Mandrik. 'Three or four people aboard.'
	Ormes didn't need telling twice. A number of green energy lances
stabbed out from under the Imperial Star Destroyer, and then a small
puff of evaporating metal indicated the problem was dissolved.
	'See? See?' exclaimed Ormes triumphantly. 'I got it first. Again.'
	'Yes,' said Mandrik. 'Do you think it might have something to do
with no one else bothering to shoot at an unarmed life pod?'
	Ormes frowned. 'Where's the fun in that? The ad said "excitement,
adventure, fun." Hardly exciting, NOT shooting at things. Besides,
according to you, I need target practice anyway.'
	'Ormes. They have SIMULATORS for that.'
	'Not the same thing. Mandrik. If you would sit at the trigger more
often instead of fiddling around with dials and readouts, you'd know
that. The exhilaration you get from watching half a frozen corpse
float by is something a simulator just can't convey. Have you ever
blasted a TIE?'
	Mandrik shook his head. 'I bet you have, though,' he said in a tone
not lacking in sarcasm, which was of course completely lost upon its
recipient.
	Ormes grinned. 'More than once, baby. The trick is to make it look
like someone else did it. For instance I fired at precisely the same
time as Hings from the next turret, and it was absolutely convincing.
The cool thing about it was, I knew Radobar, the asshole, was piloting
the TIE, so I blasted him, and then the execution squad came and
fetched Hings, who I couldn't stand either. Neat trick, huh? But I
digress. The thing is, you have to get your butt behind the trigger
more often, otherwise you turn into a zombie and wind up flying a desk.'
	Another escape capsule drifted by, its erratic rotation a sure sign
of a damaged launch mechanism. Mandrik was glad for the interruption
of Ormes' insane story.
	'There goes another one,' said Ormes, reaching for the trigger.
	'Hold your fire,' said Mandrik hastily. 'There's no life forms.
Must've short-circuited.'
	Ormes turned towards him. 'So what? You mean, it's okay if I blast
manned escape pods, but I'm not supposed to blast a floating piece of junk?'
	'You're not SUPPOSED to blast ANYTHING,' snapped Mandrik, his
patience slowly but surely giving way to an emotion generally
associated with knives and clubs. 'Just let it fall down on the
planet, okay? If this is any help, it might hit a settled area and
wreak havoc upon the population or something.'
	Ormes grumbled something, but he kept his hands away from the
controls.
	Presently new instructions were issued to the gun crews, concerning
the captured vessel and its complete annihilation. What Ormes lacked
in the aiming department he more than made up with exceptional
enthusiasm. With a will, is what they say. A constant stream of
invective issued from the button-pusher's mouth, his eyes crossed with
desperate concentration and his forehead bearing furrows that would
have made Jean Paul Belmondo himself raise an eyebrow in appreciation.
The occasional euphoric yell accompanied each direct hit on the inert target.
	Eventually nothing remained but a few sadly spinning bits of
twisted metal, sent on their long and lonely journey by the terrific
forces which had rent asunder the ship they had so recently been a part of.
	The Imperial Star Destroyer continued on its way, in its dark
majesty completely unheeding and -caring of the lowly backwater of a
binary system it was passing through. As if to openly display its
contempt for such mundane things as suns, it jumped to light speed not
half a billion kilometers out from the primary, vanishing into
Hyperspace like into the proverbial thin air.



   -roc
   Official Rassm Dallas-Head

   "The problem with having an open mind, of course, is that
   people will insist on coming along and trying to put
   things in it." -Masklin