~
"So what the fuck was so important that I had to give Moff Handler my spot on the Galactus for our courting of the fucking Sith?"
The stringy man squinted up from his multiple datapads and clapped his hands at the sudden but hardly unexpected intrusion of Grand Moff Azrael Zell. "Ahh.. Zell. Thank you so much for answering my requests.."
"Request? I had no fucking choice. Regent Exceron was pretty clear that I had to polish your pole lest you defect to the fucking Eternal Rogue Order or Fitzgerald's Fucking Force."
The scientist's squinty eyes widened slightly as if he began to think about the ramifications of such options.
Zell, seeing this, murmured, "I'll personally shoot you between your eyes if you try it."
"The Sith hardly ever appreciate those that think up the toys they employ to try their hand at ruling the universe. No.. The Empire has been more than generous in giving me allowances to chase those critical little pet projects of mine."
"Yeah, well... If it can be used to blow the shit out of Jedi or the New Republic, it's money well spent. So, tell me doctor... First, do you have something to drink and Second, what the fuck did you want to show us?"
The scientist giggled at the questions, "A drink? A fantastic idea, Sir! Capital thought, indeed, for this does deserve a drink! As for why you are here? Let me show you..."
And as a serving droid entered with each man's poison of choice, Zell was taken towards a device of some sort that protruded downward from the ceiling, as if pointing to a spot on the floor.
"The orbital superlaser has been done before, Doctor.." Zell griped taking a swallow of his rutgut.
The scientist chuckled, "Oh..no..no.. Nothing so mundane as conventional weaponry. No. This device employs mathematics having to do with space and time. Specifically, it moves objects into a different space at a different time. At least theoretically."
Zell grunted, "So you are saying you can put someone into a specific hospital and shoot the bitch that gave birth to Luke Skywalker thus preventing his pasty ass from blowing up the first Death Star?"
"Well, first of all, you might have a problem with Darth Vader and it still wouldn't solve the exhaust port problem of the first Death Star."
"Yeah," Zell had to agree at the thought, "some other fucker would have taken the shot."
He walked right under the contraption, "So what does this piece of cr--"
"No! The machine is still on!" cried the scientist but it was too late.
Azrael Zell felt a wave of lightheadedness overcome him and it seemed to him that either he blacked out or closed his eyes for a bit longer than normal for when he opened them, he was staring back at strange people in strange uniforms in a strange land.
"Who the fuck are you?" Zell barked out and took a swallow of the drink he still had in his hand.
Little did he know that he had appeared in a society that was vastly inferior in both culture and technology. In fact the only up-side to the whole ordeal was the fact that everyone seemed to be human, albeit primitive.
After a rigorous language lesson where he learned to speak like the natives he learned that he was, in fact, the alien.
He had come upon a world that had yet to meet a being outside their own world which made Zell a celebrity of sorts. Once communication was established the natives were extremely curious regarding his knowledge and experiences and looked toward his advice and take on things.
It was an unwelcome 'first contact' mission that all the science nerds at the Academy talked endlessly about and Zell kept a special place in his mind where he listed all the things he would do to that scientist fucker who stuck him in this position.
So, until the good doctor figured out how to get him back, he would make the best of situations as he always did.
This, of course, meant securing himself with money, booze and females. He thanked the fates that he was not sent to a fucking Wookiee world a million years in the past.
In all actuality, though, he never could figure out just where he was for not only had this primitive society never had an encounter with anyone outside their world, they also did not seem to know shit.
The following are excerpts of Azrael Zell's opinions and interactions with those who sought more wisdom than they were capable of carrying during circumstances and situations that held a certain notariety to those local agencies that seemed to claim to present news.
In Zell's viewpoint, his time in this place was like a nightmare of a holovid that told the story of a Naval Captain coming out of stasis on a world only to find Wookiees talking basic and hunting humans who could only sound grunts. The ending had the Naval Captain pounding his hand in the sand, with a mute female (the only true upside to the situation), cursing the fact that he finally realized he was on his home planet of Coruscant as the broken ruins of the Imperial Palace stared down at him telling the story that his own 'civilized' people blew themselves to bits.
The inhabitants of this strange land would treat him as the second coming of the Messiah, a local folk hero. Only this time, one who could have sex.
To Zell, this was an altered state of reality. To others, it was a United States of America...