Drinks, Twi'Leks, and the Rebel Alliance
B: So, Grumpy Moff, when do you ship out to the big floating gun?
GM: Just in a few days. There's some meetings at the Senate building, then we pick up our stuff and go.
B: What do you think about the whole thing?
GM: Well, it's pretty cool. Galactic Championship-size swimming pools, volleyball leagues, they've even got their own bar and grill. Free holo games too - no more losing credits to play the pod race sim anymore. I can't complain. Hey, you should swing by and drop in on one of our volleyball games, I think I can get a guest -
B: That's not what I meant. What do you think about having a big floating gun that can destroy planets?
GM: Hmmm. Well, I dunno. The Emperor says it's for our protection, so I'm cool with it. I'm just a turbolaser maintenance guy, I don't get involved with the politics of the whole thing. I figured it's more a scare tactic than anything else - how is it physically possible to fire a laser that big?
B: Blowing up planets is not cool. There's always innocents on there, even if most of the population are traitors or scum.
GM: Or hot Twi'Leks.
B: Or hot Twi'Leks! Exactly! See what I mean? What if the Spice Mine Babes (the Twi'Lek pop band comprised of four extremely photogenic female singers with little-to-no singing and/or dancing ability...not that it matters) were touring on a planet that the Empire pegged to blow up? Sure, we'd get rid of the jerks and troublemakers, but we'd blow up the hot Twi'Leks! That ain't cool!
GM: Jeez, Grumpy B, don't make me question what I'm doing right before I ship out. I have to go there - I'm joining a volleyball team with Officer Hot Stuff!
B: All I'm saying is I don't think the Rebel Alliance is that bad. I don't necessarily agree with their methods, but sometimes their ideas make sense. Let's face it, sometimes the Emperor's a jerk. Do you think it's coincidence that President Lucjean's shuttle crashed two hours after he spilled wine on Palpatine at the Imperial Gala last year?
GM: Wine stains ARE hard to get out. I see what you mean, but what am I going to do about it? I gotta make a living, right? Where else can they use a turbolaser maintenance guy? I bet the Rebels don't pay nearly as well as the Empire - and do they have a floating space station with a bar and grill?
B: Bar and grill's a pretty tall order to beat. Hey, at least you're not brainwashed by all the stuff on the holonet news. I don't trust those politicians. Any of them. And they're the ones calling the shots.
GM: I'll make you a deal. If one of my bosses wants to blow up a planet, I'll run a scan to make sure there's no hot Twi'Leks on it first. Deal?
B: Deal. Just keep your head on straight, ok? Don't listen to the politicians - they're full of crap.
GM: I don't have time to listen to them anyways. I gotta figure out how not to look like an idiot in front of Officer Hot Stuff!
The rest of the evening involved wasted credits, dancing Twi'Leks, and one (or four) too many drinks, especially for someone going to an Imperial briefing tomorrow. I can't be the only one going hungover, right? Grumpy B's always been the sensible friend, though, and he does have a point. I suppose there is at least a little bit inherently wrong about working on something that zips through the galaxy blowing up planets (or at least threatening to).
But damn it, they've got their own bar and grill! What other workplace has that?