Note: These are just little blurbs I thought up but really did not have enough material to stretch them to a full rp.
How Captain Zell Solved World Hunger
The ISD Sceptor drifted into a high orbit directing scans down toward the only planet to be found in the system. This particular Star Destroyer was commanded by none other than Captain Azrael Zell. This is a time that falls between the rise of the Empire and the destruction of the first Death Star.
The Sceptor was on a mapping mission within a sector that the old Republic records seemed to hold scant information of.
*
"Captain, sensors show a large mass of people in several cities."
"Are we detected?! Are they trying to rally soldiers to their cause to fight us!" Zell had practically ran back down the catwalk to scold the officer with the offending piece of news.
"No.. I cannot detect any spacecraft of any class. I... I .."
"Out with it, man!"
The officer looked up, "I don't think they have space capability."
"Sir.. I have intercepted the transmissions from these masses!"
"Let me hear it, now."
And a strange series of sounds came out over the bridge speakers. "What the hell is that noise?"
"That's what they are transmitting, Sir. I.. I think it's a part of their language."
"What the hell is all that noise around the voices? Damn.. Clear it up and get a translation!"
"Sir! Short range is picking up satellites!"
"I thought you said they were not a spacefaring race!" Zell's voice chilled a few degrees.
"They aren't. The satellites are low emission systems. Hardly worth our time. We could bump into them with the Sceptor and knock them out of their orbits or blow them up from the strike."
Zell's anger seemed to subside though he growled out, "So will a Trade Federation droid but that doesn't mean it's not a fucking danger. You are docked a day's pay."
"It's music!"
"What? Are you telling me that fucking noise is music?"
"Yes sir! And a partial translation is coming in. Seems to be some big program simultaneously being copied in various cities."
"Purpose?" Zell snapped.
"Hold... translation is coming through!"
"Ensign!" warned Zell.
"They are trying to end world hunger!"
"By singing?" Zell snapped back. "Is this a planet of idiots?"
"I.. I think the masses buy tickets for a performance and the monies go to this country that seems to be starving. I think.."
"Maybe it's a motivational rally. Perhaps to get the people to care." another officer added helpfully.
"Wait! Apparently, there is some big meeting between this planet's leaders taking place and these performances are supposed to call for this hunger issue to be discussed."
Zell frowned, "Is there any information on this meeting?"
"Oh yes. This planet's access to information is so easy it is actually frightening."
"And?" prompted the Captain.
"Hunger is not a topic of conversation. Except maybe if they break for lunch."
"So rather than petition for the topic to be a subject of discussion they'd rather sing songs?"
"Sir, I cannot answer for the intentions of a crazy race."
The Captain snorted and looked at a land icon. "Is this the continent that the starving people are at?"
"It seems so."
"The Empire does not have people dying of hunger. Let's show them how a civilized people handles the problem! Weapon stations, target that continent and fire!"
The entire process took less than five minutes.
"Continent has been glassed, sir."
Azrael Zell, rather pleased with himself, walked to the comm consol. "Prepare a message to these people. Tell them that we've heard their songs and have responded. There are no more hungry people on their world."
As the officer was going to send, Zell stopped him. "Wait. Also add this: Since we've done this for you, this is what you can do for us..."
The ISD Sceptor remained in orbit around the world of Vennia. The words of the representative of the Regent, Darth Exceron, burned into the brain of Admiral Azrael Zell.
"The last thing we need is to go to war with yet another species, Admiral." the representative was saying. "Resources are stretched thin and costing Bastion it's all too important secrecy. With the New Republic.."
"Damn the New Republic!" Zell had shouted. "They have no vessels within ten sectors of my location! These people could be utilized too.."
"Obey your Regent, Admiral." the man said calmly though with hardening eyes.
"I obey." Zell grounded out through clenched teeth. "But if they attack this vessel.."
"If they attack you, then of course defend yourselves. But how likely is that since they have no weapons?"
The hologram flickered and disappeared and Azrael Zell cursed under his breath.
*
He stormed out of the private communications chamber in a foul mood and his Executive Officer stepped back to give him space.
"Admiral? Transmission from the planet's surface."
Zell's mood darkened.
An alien hologram appeared, "Ahh Admiral. I bring greetings."
"You went around me and contacted my superiors." Zell answered without emotion. It was not a question.
"Well, you seemed most distressed and we felt it better to relay our concerns to your government firsthand. We are most interested in doing business with your Empire." The alien's mouth widened in an approximation of a grin.
Admiral Zell's countenance suddenly changed as he smiled. "I have been instructed by my government to extend every courtesy to you and welcome you aboard my flagship for a banquet to seal our impending trade agreement."
The Exec turned to his Admiral in surprise. He was not privy to the conversation with the government but he did know that Zell hated such functions that he was extending to these ..these aliens.
The alien beamed. "I would be delighted to accept. Please prepare to welcome our Royal Shuttle."
"I look forward to it.." Zell commented and as the hologram winked out, his smile became feral.
He turned to his Exec. "Let's show them the red carpet treatment."
His Exec drew closer. "Sir, with all due respect, a trade alliance with these ..aliens is only for the personal benefit of the Regent's retainers. They made a separate deal to line their own pockets!"
Zell turned to his Exec., "I am surprised at you! Why would you say such things about our leaders?" he drawled out.
"Sir!" his Exec became more insistent rising to the bait. "The government mocks you! We should show these people the true yoke of our rule! Not pander to them like Republican capitalists!"
Zell's grin became affectionate. "Do not worry, Number One. I have things well in control."
*
The aliens disembarked from their shuttle surrounded by honorguards of stormtroopers with Azrael Zell and his Exec at the end of the carpet to welcome the newcomers.
The alien and his entourage shuffled across the red path as quickly as their short legs could carry, their robes dragging across the thick carpet.
When they came to the end, the Admiral extended their hand and the alien moved to shake.
The shock of electricity that took place as their hands touched was not large but it was felt as Zell's arm recoiled. He carried a look of horror on his face. The alien's hand tingled and his face showed confusion.
"You dare to attack me with your alien powers?" Zell nearly shouted.
"The alien's eyes widened. "But, Admiral, it...."
He never got far as Zell backhanded the alien right then and there sending him sprawling. The alien's guards hissed and began to draw their weapons but one gesture from Zell's other hand snapped the stormtroopers weapons up and they fired cutting down the alien party.
"Fuckers!" Zell spat and the Exec followed him open-mouthed to the bridge leaving the alien corpses behind.
"Contact that fucking planet!" Zell yelled.
The comm officer nerviously nodded when the link was established. "We came to you in peace and your representative tried to attack us! I will give you thirty minutes to give us the secret to your bioelectric abilities or we will go down to the surface and rip it from your mouths!"
Before the planet could reply the transmission was cut.
"Answer no hail from them unless they have the answer!" Zell barked out and his men nodded.
His Exec began to grin. "You old sly dog."
Zell raised his eyebrow. "I am not responsible for the personal attacks from stupid aliens against my person."
Then he grinned. "I'd like to see Exceron's representative's face now!"
"Married?" the Executive Officer of the ISD Sceptor asked clearly not believing the words being uttered out of Grand Admiral Zell's mouth.
"Of course," Zell's grin became predatorial. "If Darth Exceron's going to continue to go through with the farce of an Imperial Senate, then I might as well take advantage of it and put some political power under my belt."
"You need power under your belt?" the number one officer shot back knocking his head back finishing the rest of his drink.
"Ha!" Zell slapped the table indicating he wanted more drinks.
The Sceptor was orbiting a nondescript world in the Outer Rim. A world that served as a stopping point for various Imperial military missions. Though not part of the Empire's sphere, there was enough traffic of warships to crush any thought to denying what the Empire's officers wanted.
Some used the planet for hunting, others for whoring and many for drinking.
"What do you think about that Colonel Kaine fellow? Brought a couple of companies with him.."
Zell shrugged. "He struck me a cold pup. In a month or two he'll either be dead or on a mission with me to Carida."
"I hear Admiral Hyfe wants him for the Muunilist mission." the Exec continued.
The Grand Admiral shrugged. "I couldn't give a damn if our illustrious Regent wanted Kaine to be his official ass-wiper."
The Exec's grin widened. "No. I heard Ysanne Isard has filled that position already." and Zell threw his head back and laughed out loud.
His hand instinctively went to the table in search of a replacement glass of liquor and found there was none.
"What the fu.." Zell's head turned in search of the kriffin waiter and saw the servers stationed near a monitor. Some sort of news was coming in and Imperial officers were suddenly getting comm requests from their ships.
"Dammit." The Grand Admiral sighed as his buzzed.
He grabbed it and accepted the signal. "What?" he barked.
"Admiral. We have a problem.."
*
Zell couldn't believe what he was hearing. Evidently some Imperial Editorialist had written a piece on the religion of the aliens of this dirt-ball of a world. And, as with many editorials, there was art. In this case, conceptual art though irreverant featuring the main prophet of these alien's religion, Momad, in less than appropriate positions. When it broadcasted, great numbers of aliens belonging to this religion began to chant death threats on Imperial citizens wherever they were.
The only advice from Bastion was from Director Isard as the Regent was otherwise occupied. Her advice: Fix it!
Fuck me! I'll bloody well fix it! his mind snarled.
He and his Exec marched down a hall to where representatives of the government that benefited from the Imperial presence and those officials that were tied at the hip to this unfathomable religion. The Exec could see that Zell's mood darkened with each advancing step and so wisely kept quiet.
He threw open the door unafraid and simply stormed in heedless of who was in the room. Through clenched teeth he spit out, "What the fuck is going on!?"
The government representative turned a few shades white and the religious folk donned their cloaks of self righteousness and remained unfazed.
The government agent was so afraid that he could not begin his explanation of the situation without stuttering badly and so Zell's arm swept him aside and he stood toe to toe with the religious leaders.
"What the fuck is going on?" he asked again, and the alien interpreter whispered into the ear of the head religious representative, an older alien.
The old alien withstood Zell's gaze and began a deliberate explanation that the interpreter rendered for Zell. They were going on about the picture more than the article and how their holy book, the Oro-Xrae, forbid any visual representations of their prophet Momad lest they be drawn into Idolatry and again began to threaten the streets would run red with Imperials...-"
"What do you want?" Zell interrupted trying to gauge his options.
"From the Imperial Government, an apology and punishment rendered to the offending editorialist.." and several other face-saving minor actions.
The Regent probably gave him a fucking medal, Zell thought, his mind wondering about the Editorialist. An apology? They might as well ask for the Regent to skip about the room in a dress.
The Grand Admiral could plainly see that a stone wall had appeared behind him. There would be no recourse and no apology. Not from the Empire.
So that left only one road open to him. Going straight at these alien fuckers!
"Your fucking book condemn's Idolatry eh?" Zell rudely inquired.
"The holy Oro-Xrae forbids any representation of the most holy Momad to stop any idolatry. Oro-Xrae-Krae.." which was the damned religion's name, "..only promotes peace and harmony. We do not desire for blood to be shed but desires-.."
"Bullshit." was Zell's only response and a whisp of anger twinged in the old religionist's eyes. "Your book also condemns murder but that hasn't stopped your fuckers from committing it. So why should anyone care about fucking idolatry?"
The aliens stirred angrily and were about to respond when Zell continued over their speech.
"Are your people that fucking weak?" he asked and a representative behind the old religionist hissed at him their rage building.
"You think that a satirical picture will tempt your fucking people to commit idolatry? If so...then I don't think your great fucking Momad would want your devotion! I know I wouldn't! If, at the first sign of testing, his own fucking people cave, I would think he'd be fucking disgusted with the lot of you!"
The religionists stood very rigid.
"You think that threatening us with death for a fucking picture is brave? Grow some fucking balls! If you see a woman's tit's, do you blame the woman for having tits if you bed her? For your own fucking weak-ass self control?!"
"It shows a lack of respect for..." the old religionsist tried to rally.
"After all the blood you have threatened to shed and for all the blood you have shed in the past in the name of your fucking religion, you've got little to be respected for! Why not, instead, in light of the picture, threaten your own fucking people if they actually do become pussies and commit idolatry in the midst of temptation." Zell threw his hands in the air. "Now there's a fucking idea! Punish your own fucking people for their inequities!"
The aliens began to murmur among themselves. "You would not balk at this?"
"What the fuck do I care if you kill each other? Just leave the Empire alone or you will see a whole new definition of armageddon."
The aliens bristled at the threat but knew that the Grand Admiral represented a very practical and real danger.
"But you will not stop the art?"
Zell rolled his eyes. "Look, you little jawa-shits. If those you consider infidels are being irreverent to your religion, become irreverent to theirs! Draw up satirical art against them! Point out the truth of your religion over theirs."
The aliens were quiet. One jittery alien shuddered. "But..But it isn't right."
Zell glared at him in annoyance. "You want to be a fucking martyr?" he quipped and the alien drew himself up to his full height which only reached to Zell's chest.
"Your empire does not scare away the true disciples of Momad! Let the streets run with blood!"
"You want the disciples of Momad to vanish from the galaxy?" Zell asked suddenly very quiet and the other representatives began to stir at the turn the meeting was taking.
"You'll never be able to formulate a strategy to--"
The alien did not see Zell's Exec pull out a blaster. The shot caught the fool unawares and he would never be aware of anything after that (his religious beliefs notwithstanding).
"One fucker at a time is my strategy!" Zell spat out and turned to the elder. "Now you have your martyr! Evidently he felt his life was worth a cartoon drawing. How little do you think yours are worth?"
The elder squinted his eyes. "Craet was always a bit too zealous for his own good. But what shall we tell his family?" The elder's eyes had become crafty and Zell suddenly grinned.
This was ground he was familiar with.
The ground of galactic reality: Hypocrisy.
Religions were not built on faith. They were built on money! And this religion was no different.
Tithe my ass!
"The Empire will see to the grieving widow.." Zell said gaining the approval of the elder for the moment.
By rights she should pay me ...
*
As he and his Exec walked out of the room, Zell exhaled. "I didn't think you got the signal."
"I wasn't sure which one you wanted dead.." the Exec answered and Zell laughed. Then the Exec sobered, "Do you think it's over?"
"Fuck no. These religionists will find something new to harp on about and threaten every Imperial citizen once more and one of these days, we are going to say "enough" and wipe them from the face of the galaxy. But.." and Zell's grin widened, "I shall be gone and it will be up to some other poor sod to deal with these kriffin aliens."
"I need a drink... and speaking of which, what the hell is this about your marriage?! Zell? You!?"
"What?" Zell asked innocently. "Married women need sex just as much as single women. Even more so."
And the men laughed as they went searching for a bar.
Grand Moff (Retired) Azrael Zell and Dacian Palestar
Prologue
"..the scourge of the galaxy, the fire of passions long restrained, the itch under the 'Order' of---"
"Turn that fucking shit off," grumbled Zell as he walked into the meeting, noting the raised eyebrow from Supreme Commander Drayson.
"It's been playing on a lower frequency bands. Apparently, some new villian coming soon, I suppose." answered Admiral Jaeder.
"Sounds like a fucking STD. He needs better writers.." grumbled Zell. "Is this the reason for the fucking meeting?" staring at the cold young woman before him who commanded the greatest fleets and armies the galaxy had ever seen.
"We were discussing the fleet disposition when Admiral Jaeder showed us what our outermost outposts are intercepting. Now that you are here, we can resume our previous discussion." The lack of emotion in the young woman's voice made her seem all the more ominous which only piqued a curious look from the old man as his mind briefly wondered what she would be like in bed. Would all that control suddenly be released in a flurry of uncontrollable passion? Or would it be like trying to screw a box of razors?
Either way, it would probably fucking kill me, the old soldier thought turning his attention to the meeting.
***
"SIR! Priority encryption signal!" came the harsh intruding voice causing the slightly inebriated Zell to put a hand on his head sending a scowl in the offending voice's direction.
"All our fucking signals are encrypted and if it's military, it's fucking priority. If you are going to take a sledge-hammer to my face, give me some fucking information!"
"Dacian Palestar has attacked!"
Zell's scowl only grew. "Who?"
"Dacian Palestar!"
"Palestar..." grumbled the old man, "What is this? Attack of the fucking anemics!?"
He looked at the Comm Officer's mouth drop and nearly kicked the young man. "Don't just stand there. Send the fucking message along!"
Next, it will be rabid Ewoks! What the fuck is this galaxy coming too?
Even a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away one could find themselves surrounded by simpletons. Azrael Zell, a man forged from the fires of experience and with a vision that included none of the self delusions that plague so much of sentient life, found himself amid such an array of simpletons thus validating his long-held belief that while the probability of human life developing separately and independently in another far off galaxy many eons from now was low, if such a thing ever came to be, he was sure, it would be a planet of idiots.
He reflected on the strange set of events that now saw him sitting amid representatives of some democratic faction who had the arrogance of thinking themselves the pinnacle of civilization. However, this 'civilization' (if it could be loosely translated as such) was no star-faring organization and so amounted to little in terms of galactic worth. It was a fact these people refused to see proclaiming their own ideals as something desirous to the galaxy at large.
After a day of arguing for a criminal's right to life, Zell had pretty much had it. As he knew it would, the real issue became buried in a quagmire of blowhard logic, emotionalism with not a little religious fanaticism thrown in for good measure.
As the representative of an advance space-faring society, he found himself under attack by these simpletons as they questioned the very fabric of, according to Zell, how the galaxy just worked.
A dark-haired man stood up pointing a finger at Zell, who sat rather unimpressed on a terrace above holding in his hand what passed as an alcoholic beverage on this world.
Zell absently looked at his nails before turning his gaze at the one who posed the question. "Let me ask you this in return, do you want to live in a state where 100% of the guilty get justice or in a state where they don't?"
His gaze turned back to his nails, "I mean, if you are going to fucking let 9 guilty men go free or live the high life in prison getting their dicks sucked by lesser ones and being supported by your taxpayers then what the fuck do you have laws for?"
Zell laughed. "The fucking innocents. Right. I could say something about why the innocents didn't get good fucking lawyers?...or, why, if they are innocent, did the truth of the matter not shine through for them? I mean, how can a lie stand up to the truth anyhow, eh? Or perhaps your fucking jury were so fucking apathetic that they couldn't have given a damn as to who was fucking innocent and who was guilty."
He spread his hands out, "But how does that fucking affect the punishment of crime? Because your fucking system of justice may have imprisoned an innocent person? Well, holy fucking shit! Change your damned system of justice so those fucking mistakes don't happen?! But no... your fucking democracies take the fucking lazy way out by blaming the punishment rather than the inequities of their system. Rather than actually work for your fucking better society, you'd rather drain your economies dry by claiming some higher fucking moral stand like mewling infants sucking the teet of your taxpayers!"
Another man dressed on blue shot up, forcefully pointing at Zell as if making a point, shouting...
Zell purred. "That's because, you dumbass, you obviously don't do it right. After not having to work a day in his life, Joe-criminal comes to a place that provides free lodging, free entertainment and free food ..and free dick sucking, I might add...You then give them the best damned meal they ever ate and then send them to their maker in their sleep using some injection method. I mean shit! Who the fuck would be scared by that? Perhaps you pussies maybe but not real fucking criminals!"
The shouting man rallied,
Zell leaned back, "In my experience, if you do the crime, you do the time." He looked around, "Or is that not what your system of justice is based upon?" He made the word justice sound like shit.
The shouting man went back to his old standby that he'd been spewing for a day and a half now..
Zell gave the representatives an incredulous look, as if he could be further surprised by their incompetence, "Then fucking GET YOUR INNOCENT PEOPLE OFF OF DEATH ROW, asshole! THAT should be your fucking high minded cause. Not fucking reduced punishment for the guilty." He sat back, taking a sip of the weak-assed drink they provided and grimacing, "But no. If you remove the death penalty so that you lazy-ass bitches can sit back and salve your fucking consciences while letting your innocent continue to rot on death fucking row! Keep the fucking penalty! The outcry from your fucking innocents will get you off your lazy ass to actually do something and improve your broken justice system rather than maintaining the status-quo!"
Someone tried to bring up some religious excuse in support of the death penalty that Zell nearly spewed out his drink as he coughed at this turn of events.
Naturally, the weak defense was shot down and someone made the observation..
The Imperial slammed his hand down. "That's got to be the single most brilliant thing I've heard all day!" He turned to the one that spoke, "But you will find that those with such religious tendencies will suddenly blur the line between what their supposed god wants and what they want when such issues arise. The dipshits never realize that politics and religion are not supposed to mix." he laughed out loud.
"Now see here!" someone shot up and Zell pointed a finger of his own. "God hates fucking before marriage, yes? He fucking hates fucking adultery too, yes?!"
"uhh.. yes." came a more timid reply.
"Then what punishment to the people would you presume to put forth for these infractions?"
"uhhh... well.. you see.."
"Well, what the fuck!?" Zell suddenly shouted angrily. "You were all tootin God's horn trying to defend your own stance on the Death Penalty (which is a weak assed defense in my book as it is) but now, you are unwilling to put your money where your faith is?! You would actually lead your fucking nation away from your fucking god by condoning something he hates?"
He grinned.
"Fucking hypocrites. If your fucking religion can't stay out of politics you are in the fucking wrong religion!"
"What's your religion!" someone shouted.
"Fucking common sense" he retorted. "And in that order! Fucking and common sense!"
Someone stood up to begin a dissertation on the lessons learned from the past, in favor of the death penalty, when the man in blue stood up again and condescended...
"Well, I don't know..." Zell replied smoothly. "Perhaps that ancient system of justice actually punished the wrongdoer rather than both innocent and guilty like in your fucked up system! As for that other stuff, I don't know. I remember someone saying that you used to be able to leave the doors to your homes unlocked without fear. Now it seems that you all are fucked full of fear! And if that's because you let your black humans off the farm and gave women education and the right to fucking vote, then shit! Put them back on the farm! Take away women's right to vote! And you certainly must have fucked up your woman's education!"
Zell narrowed his eyes, "Or could it be that despite some considered immoral actions back then, there are kernels of wisdom to be learned from our past? Like the fucking death penalty!"
The man in blue chuckled.
Zell suddenly gave a feral grin, his eyes flashing dangerously, "Oh yes. You must think that because you can drink water from a sink rather than a pond, you are civilized and therefore better. You think because you use a gun rather than a bow and arrow you are better?! You must think that this.." he waved his hand around, "is utopia-aplenty! This society of pussies that cry over spilt milk rather than fucking cleaning it up. This fucking society that seems to condescend the past when a man was a man and when he lived or died by his own merits and not the bullshit that spills from his mouth! Back when you took your chances and died with the knowledge that you had done all you could for yourself and yours! Oh no... it's certainly not like now..
Where your unemployed and homeless live in squalor. This fucking rich faction that can't provide even the most basic of medical care for it's citizenry because they can't fucking afford it! This fucking rich faction that can't fucking pay it's civil servants, much less push their criminal element, to even clean their fucking streets! I've toured your cities! I've seen your fucking garbage and filth that is scattered by the wind as an apathetic citizenry simply stares at it as if it's the fucking neatest thing since boiled water! Where your fucking children are so fucking..weak! that they shy away from any sort of responsibility. These welps you go to great lengths to protect from the experiences of life...experiences that ancient children met with fucking balls while yours are pandered too by dancing stuffed animals! Where your fucking kids don't know where to stick their dicks until they're twenty and have fucking bastards trailing them from region to region wondering when the world will give them a fucking handout because you've trained them to expect it! Where they will end up in a deadbeat job working for some bastard that will fire them before their fucking retirement is due because he's a religious prick and then live out the rest of his days in a home for forgotten seniors where they can be abused by the staff and treated with the same lack of respect they gave to their elders! Yes, asshole, life after fucking 40 looks really bright in your fucking imaginary world! I pity those that live after 40 here!
Mankind has gotten worse. They've gone soft thinking the world...thinking the galaxy owes them fucking dinner on a platter. In fact, your criminal element is the only thing that is working for his supper and you fucking encourage them by pandering to them. You are a bunch of spoiled fucking pussies that should, quite frankly, feed your rapists and murders and keep them healthy so they can be around to put you out of your fucking misery in the end!"
The man in blue looked around as burning eyes of Azrael Zell stared down from his seated position.
After a moment, the representative continued soflty, (and some would say, stupidly)
Another spoke up,
The man in blue retorted,
Zell frowned, "How is it fucking revenge when the guilty bastard is put to death five fucking years or more after the fact of his crime! Your fucking legal system crawls slower than a fucking bantha!"
He turned to the man in blue, "What I don't get is why you are decrying the death penalty on this fucking morality charge... Killing is wrong?? Tell me, where's your fucking soap box decrying your country's military? It is, I believe, an institution that thrives on killing is it not? Where's your outrage at the existence of bomb manufacturers?"
"Bombs don't kill people. People kill people.." came a weak voice.
"Who the fuck said that fucking nonsense?!" Zell barked out. "I'll fucking show you the death a bomb can deliver!"
Turning to the man in blue, "Well, asshole. What's it going to be? You say killing is wrong and then you say it's ok if it's self defense...so you are already wavering like a fucking pussy!"
He leaned forward, "Tell me you prick, if a person has a right to self defense by killing, does not a society have a right to it's self defense by killing that which would rip it asunder if left to feed off it like a parasite?"
The man in blue gave the heart of his arguement then..
Zell stood there quietly as the chamber fell silent. His frown had turned into a scowl and, quite honestly, he had heard enough.
"Allow me to tell you, then, who does have that right." he stated matter of factly into the silence.
And with a firm voice, "Those that take it!"
"You need to shed your fucking wimpering skepticism and realize that killing is a right that only your criminal element is seizing and unless you man up, unless you reach deep down for your firm resolve, grab your balls and your sword and stand firmly in their path, they are going to run you over like the pussies that you are.
Despite your shiny-happy-people outlook on life, this galaxy is a most dangerous place. And if you are not man enough to face it and face reality and actually make the fucking hard decisions in life like who to kill and who not too kill, then you doom the next generation into making the same pussy mistakes you do."
He smirked, "And if you are so fucking concerned about your innocent dipshits on death row.."
He leaned forward, "THEN FIX YOUR FUCKING LEGAL SYSTEM!"
Zell usually kept an orderly desk. The surface shine was second to none and as he sipped his typically strong, black caf he picked up the Intelligence Briefing and scanned down to an excerpt taken from a Coalition News Agency.
Speech, speech, and more speeches. It seemed to be the oil that greased the Coalition wheels these days.
And, after another second, strong black caff was spewed all over the surface of his desk.
