Orion High Council Chamber, Night
Screens light up in a wide circle around the central holodisplay, displaying the images of the Orion Sector's six leaders, plus a handful of important supernumeraries. They look around at each other in shock.
FARSEER: What is this place? What are we doing here? I was in the middle of my favorite tri-D show!
COMPUTERIZED VOICE FROM ON HIGH: By the Power of Orion, you have been brought together for the Democratic Process. It is time to choose a High Master of the Galaxy!
REFSITH: (Peeking in from the corner of WIN's image) Hey - what's the term of office?
CVFOH: Eternity.
REFSITH: ...
CVFOH: You bet. It's for keeps! The ultimate democracy! A Democracy to end all democracy!
REFSITH: ... You can say that again.
KIRK AIRGUITAR: All right! Go, go democratic process! Take that, so-called Galactic Emperor! Buuuuuuuum-BUM-bum-ba-ba BUUUUUM-bum! Bum-ba-ba...
EVERYONE WITHIN HEARING: (Winces and covers their ears)
AIRGUITAR: Hey, what's wrong? This is supposed to be a time of celebration! The Power of Orion is proving no emperor can possibly match its phenomenal ... uh ... you know.
CVFOH: Cast thy votes!
WIN: (Aside to DAR REFSITH) Okay, you were right; we maybe shouldn't have colonized Guradas this year, given the diplomatic situation.
REFSITH: (Trying to look on the bright side) Hey, at least we finished that solar rejuvenator thing at Kronos. And, uh, the birds' orbital bombardment at Aquilae only took out two factories....
WIN: The Alkari have a fleet at Aquilae?
REFSITH: Er, looks that way, yeah.
WIN: Any idea why nobody bothered telling me?
REFSITH: Maybe they thought you were busy. Anyway, we'll dislodge it right away! Oh, and hey: It's your turn to vote.
WIN: Don't you mean the Darloks' turn?
REFSITH: No, apparently this form of democracy consists of military dictators voting on behalf of their people according to what they think is best for themselves personally.
WIN: So, it's the U.N. model, huh?
REFSITH: No, they've improved on that. At least here, the military dictators get more heavily weighted votes if they're ... uh ... representing ... a larger number of people.
WIN: Then I should get all the votes. I'm representing the Galactic Empire. It controls the whole galaxy. I vote for me.
CVFOH: You get four votes. Only your Darloks count. Also, the Silicoids gave you three votes. Also, the Monkeys got everybody else's votes. That's fourteen.
AIRGUITAR: Haha, if you had one more vote, or if the Silicoids did, or if any of the other races had one less, hahahahaha, but no! You lose! Ha ha-ha HA-ha!Yoooouuuuuuoooouuuu loooooooooooose! We win! We rule! We're better than everyone! Buuuuum-BUM bum-ba-ba...
WIN: No, I don't.
AIRGUITAR: ...BAAAAAAAAA-bum! Bum-ba ... wait, what?
WIN: I don't lose. Check out my name. It's the opposite of lose.
AIRGUITAR: What are you trying to say?
DURASH IV: Um, here, Kirk. Let me handle this one. I'm the one they voted for, after all.
DURASH IV: You are so dead, Dar Win. We have the Orion Force on our side! And now we're forever united in a permanent tech-sharing super-alliance!
WIN: Fine. Whatever. Have fun with that. C'mon, Dar Refsith. Let's go home and start assembling a plan.
SCENE 2373
Poorly-lighted, sketchy-looking alley-type place with something vaguely resembling a sewer pipe dripping nearby; NIGHT. A clandestine meeting is taking place between DARK LORD DAR WIN OF THE SITH and his SPYMASTER WITH NO NAME. You can tell it's clandestine because the SPYMASTER is talking in a stage whisper.
WIN: This planet is my base of operations in the sector. I am pacifying the entire sector on the Emperor's orders. I have a really sweet high-tech office on the ninety-sixth floor of the Imperial Tall Pointy Building. Everybody knows you're my Spymaster. That's all anyone even calls you; you don't even have a proper name. Why do I have to meet you in this dingy ... (He looks around him) ... whatever-this-place-is?
NO NAME: Because then it's obvious we're doing top-secret, underhanded, not-for-the-public-eyes activities.
WIN: Not for the public eyes? Check out this holoclipping.
WIN: That's from Wednesday Mornings With Dar Lene and Dar Cy. Everybody knows about our new lizard-style Class 3 shields. Now will you just hand me the official list of reverse-engineered technologies?
NO NAME: Hsssssst. These are highly sensitive materials. Commit it to memory; paper can be found!
WIN: It's already been committed to holorecording a thousand times over. I just want it in official report format so we can...
NO NAME: Ahem. Listen carefully. It's better not to report Ultimate Top Secrets more than once. Reduced Waste 80 from the Rocks in '63. Mark 3 computer from the birds in '64, and their Mark 2 ECM Jammer two years later. That was sandwiched around their failed invasion at Crypto. Nuke engines from the Silicoids four years ago, and their neutron pellet guns the very next year. Two different rockets in '72: Alkari Anti-Missiles and Sakkra Hyper-Vs. And the coup de grace, this year...
WIN: I know. It was on the Morning Show, remember? Tell you what, if I tell you you're going to lift Terraforming +20 from the Silicoids next year, can you take time out from your busy schedule to actually TYPE UP THE REPORTS IN THE FORMAT I REQUESTED?!
NO NAME: (Pouting) No fair! You've been reading ahead in the script again!
WIN: Diabolical Sith Powers, man. Diabolical Sith Powers.
SCENE 2377
GNN Holostudios Newsroom
C3-D0: A sudden shift in the Sakkra Rha colony's planetary axis has resulted in a dramatic improvement in the environment. As we all know, major changes in a planet's environment - as for instance surrounding the beginning or end of an ice age - are inexplicable without some astronomical cause, whereas sudden shifts in a planetary axis - implying changes in angular momentum that would require the transfer of enough energy to set such a planet's entire atmosphere on fire - are purely routine, and therefore the most probable cause of any environmental change.
C3-D0: In related news, Dar Refsith of the Darloks has been vocally complaining about something called a pRNG, which may possibly be related to the Orion Force in some way. The faithful among the New Republic's leadership are patiently waiting for him to be struck by a bolt of lightning.
SCENE 2391
Office of DARK LORD DAR WIN OF THE SITH on the ninety sixth floor of the Imperial Tall Pointy Building, NIGHT. The DARK LORD is sitting at his desk while DAR REFSITH leans over his shoulder manipulating a holodisplay for him.
REFSITH: See, you just select the "compare techs" feature and...
WIN: Astonishing! I had no idea that feature was available! Now I don't need to beg my spymaster for his reports. Does this mean I can fire him?
REFSITH: I doubt it; where does he show up on payroll if he doesn't have a name?
WIN: Bah. Look, about that tech comparison. Of course we've reverse-engineered six new techs in the past fifteen years, including the vital new Improved Space Scanner this year, but it looks like those rebels still have a pretty big lead.
REFSITH: Particularly in ground combat technology, which is going to make pointy-stick research a bit of a challenge. But also notice the one computer tech we haven't managed to lift yet.
WIN: Yeah. RC3. In case they didn't have enough of a production edge already.
REFSITH: Hey, look on the bright side! Our main fleet should be at Reticuli in a couple of years, and the place should have a missile base finished by then! Then we'll finally destroy that Silicoid Monitor dreadnought that's been bombing away around ten million of our people every year since....
WIN: Yay.
SCENE 2399
Top Secret Imperial Darlok War Room. DARK LORD DAR WIN OF THE SITH and DAR REFSITH are both glaring at the Hologrpahic Map's Emergency Display.
WIN: Aren't Darloks supposed to be GOOD at spying? As of now, we're at computer tech parity with these rebel idiots. How did they manage to take out two of our missile bases at Firma?
DARSITH: Well, to be fair, we DO seem to be getting about five or ten tech hits for each of their successful sabotages. Like Robotic Controls two years ago and battle computer five just this year.
WIN: THAT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH!
DARSITH: Would it help if I found a way to fire your spymaster?
WIN: (grumbling) Probably.
SCENE 2403
Karaoke Bar, Night. DARK LORD DAR WIN OF THE SITH is concealed at a dark table in the corner. DAR REFSITH approaches him stealthily. In the background, a female voice is caterwauling. The words of her song are indistinguishable from grunts and screaming, but one may guess from the beat and instrumentals that she may be reproducing the original performance quite adequately.
REFSITH: So there you are! What are you doing at a Karaoke lounge at this time of night?
WIN: Inuring myself. A time will come when I must deal with Airguitar.
REFSITH: Well, I've got bad news. We didn't get enough fighters up to Dolz. Almost three quarters of the Mrrshan transports got through there.
WIN: From halfway across the galaxy? What were our fighters doing?
REFSITH: Repelling other rebel fleets. We're kind of swamped at the moment. Anyway, we outnumbered them about five to four, but it was a slaughter. Remember what you said about their ground combat edge? Well, it amounts to a 25 on the Bullux Scale right now. Battle suits with deflector shield generators like nothing we can build, and their ion rifles cut through armor way faster than our hand lasers. That makes one of their troops worth just about two of ours even when we're entrenched. Those transports that're supposed to hit Stalaz next year?
WIN: I hear you. We might as well just start planning the 80 million funerals right now. Nevertheless. You say the Mrrshans took Dolz from us?
REFSITH: From clear across the galaxy. Yeah.
WIN: Good. That will mean we have contact at last. One more target for our spies to hit.
SCENE 2406
Imperial Holonews Chamber. DARK LORD DAR WIN OF THE SITH and DAR REFSITH watch grimly as the broadcast begins.
REFSITH: Well, there goes Kronos.
WIN: That's indeed a serious setback ... but the planet's ultra-poor. And they have planetary shield technology - as, of course, after last year's success, do we. It's going to be a long time before they can assemble an actual missile base there. And in the meantime, they'll be using some of their ridiculous productivity to build factories. Dar RefSith, this may be a blow to our pride, there will come a day when the rock-heads wish they had never captured Kronos from me!
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Next: Return of the Jetty!
