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New fan fic/Viggie: You're Hired
Jun. 2nd, 2008 06:13 pmYou're Hired
by: lazypadawan
Rated PG
Starring: Darth Sidious, Count Dooku
This is sort of a followup to a comedy fic I wrote several years ago where Sidious/Palpie interviews someone to take Darth Maul's place only for the prospective Sith to totally screw things up. It was before AOTC came out, so I never explored how Sidious brought Dooku onboard. Here it is, albeit another comedy fic:
The intercom buzzed on Darth Sidious's desk, stirring him out of his reverie where his thoughts were occupied with galactic domination.
"A Count Dooku is here to see you, sir," Sly Moore's voice said over the intercom. It sounded like impending doom. Sidious grinned. The new girl was going to do great.
"Good, send him on in," he said, straightening up his hood. He couldn't let the prospect know just yet he was moonlighting as the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. He had been arranging these meetings in a rented office space far from the Senate building, at odd hours.
The door slid open and a tall, imposing man dressed in a dark tunic and cloak strode into the room. The man was easily in his 70s but he seemed extraordinarily strong and fit. He had the bearing of a haughty aristocrat, but an aristocrat who could kick one's butt. His eyes shone with arrogance and power. The Force was very strong with him indeed.
Sidious glanced down at the resume on his desk. Dooku wasn't just some wannabe off of the street, like that bald goth female who came in the other day. What was her name again? Alice? Ashley? Sidious snarkily dismissed the girl by telling her the Crypt nightclub was fifty-five levels down.
No, Dooku was the real thing. He was a Jedi Master.
"Here, have a seat, Count," Sidious said, getting up from behind his desk. Dooku shook his hand and took a seat across from Sidious.
After exchanging pleasantries on the weather and if Dooku was able to find parking, Sidious asked, "So tell me, why does a powerful Jedi Master such as yourself want to come work for me? We are after all supposed to be mortal enemies."
"Well, Master Sidious, despite many decades of heroic deeds and saving the galaxy, I've become dissatisfied with being a good guy," Dooku said. Even his voice sounded imposing and scary, with a touch of pomposity. Sidious loved it.
"How so?"
Dooku launched into a laundry list of grievances about the Jedi Order and the Republic. The dimwits on the Jedi Council. The Order's parochial Code. Yoda's growing senility. The lack of gourmet food in the cafeteria. The bad dry cleaning. His former padawan becoming "a damn hippie." The snotty younger padawans. Even the younglings running underfoot annoyed him. Then there was the corrupt Senate, full of incompetent boobs and self-interested, spice-smoking slobs.
"Lately, I've been saying to myself, 'Why am I busting my hide for this? Where's my piece of the galactic dream?' Then I saw your want ad on Clieggslist and it was like destiny calling me."
"Excellent," Sidious said, steepling his fingers. A disillusioned cynic made for a great Sith Lord.
"So, what besides your powers and inside knowledge of the Jedi Order can you bring to the table?"
"Well, I have connections all over the galaxy in government, industry, media, bounty hunting, and cloning. My family is one of the great noble houses of Serrano and I am able to tap into vast amounts of wealth should I leave the Jedi Order. And I am a fabulous swordsman if I do say so myself. I am the only expert in Form II and I improvised this curved lightsaber hilt to make death and dismemberment even easier." He held up his lightsaber to show Sidious.
"Fantastic," Sidious said, admiring the handiwork.
"Now, I would like to know what the Sith is going to do for me," Dooku said, folding his hands.
"Heh heh, I like you already, Dooku," Sidious said with a wicked grin. "You'll find that your salary will exceed your requirements but you do not really need money. You'll have all of the henchmen, battle droids, weapons, secret bases, ships, and other support you'll need. We have an excellent 401(k) plan. The Sith also offers medical, vision, pet care, life insurance, workers' compensation, and supplemental death and dismemberment insurance. This is recommended since this is a high-risk profession. The dental plan's not so good, but when you die and go to hell, you'll automatically have control over 10,000 souls."
"That's a fair tradeoff," Dooku said, nodding his head. "Now, I am well aware the Sith have a reputation for their shall we say unusual appearance. I won't have to go about with tattoos, glowing eyes, half-cyborg heads, or any of that, do I? That's not really me."
"No, I suppose not," Sidious said. "In fact, it may serve our purposes if you remain looking like yourself."
"Does this mean I have the job?" Dooku asked.
"You've got the job!" Sidious said with a big grin. "Congratulations! You shall be henceforth called...Darth Tyranus!"
"Hmm, Tyranus. I rather like that. When do I start?"
"You start right now but do not resign from the Order just yet. We need to discuss your connections with the cloners."
"As long as we're bringing that up, I'd like to mention a jerk I know called Sifo-Dyas. The bastard screwed me out of a position on the Jedi Council."
"I'll have my secretary bring in some brandy..."
Th'End
by: lazypadawan
Rated PG
Starring: Darth Sidious, Count Dooku
This is sort of a followup to a comedy fic I wrote several years ago where Sidious/Palpie interviews someone to take Darth Maul's place only for the prospective Sith to totally screw things up. It was before AOTC came out, so I never explored how Sidious brought Dooku onboard. Here it is, albeit another comedy fic:
The intercom buzzed on Darth Sidious's desk, stirring him out of his reverie where his thoughts were occupied with galactic domination.
"A Count Dooku is here to see you, sir," Sly Moore's voice said over the intercom. It sounded like impending doom. Sidious grinned. The new girl was going to do great.
"Good, send him on in," he said, straightening up his hood. He couldn't let the prospect know just yet he was moonlighting as the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. He had been arranging these meetings in a rented office space far from the Senate building, at odd hours.
The door slid open and a tall, imposing man dressed in a dark tunic and cloak strode into the room. The man was easily in his 70s but he seemed extraordinarily strong and fit. He had the bearing of a haughty aristocrat, but an aristocrat who could kick one's butt. His eyes shone with arrogance and power. The Force was very strong with him indeed.
Sidious glanced down at the resume on his desk. Dooku wasn't just some wannabe off of the street, like that bald goth female who came in the other day. What was her name again? Alice? Ashley? Sidious snarkily dismissed the girl by telling her the Crypt nightclub was fifty-five levels down.
No, Dooku was the real thing. He was a Jedi Master.
"Here, have a seat, Count," Sidious said, getting up from behind his desk. Dooku shook his hand and took a seat across from Sidious.
After exchanging pleasantries on the weather and if Dooku was able to find parking, Sidious asked, "So tell me, why does a powerful Jedi Master such as yourself want to come work for me? We are after all supposed to be mortal enemies."
"Well, Master Sidious, despite many decades of heroic deeds and saving the galaxy, I've become dissatisfied with being a good guy," Dooku said. Even his voice sounded imposing and scary, with a touch of pomposity. Sidious loved it.
"How so?"
Dooku launched into a laundry list of grievances about the Jedi Order and the Republic. The dimwits on the Jedi Council. The Order's parochial Code. Yoda's growing senility. The lack of gourmet food in the cafeteria. The bad dry cleaning. His former padawan becoming "a damn hippie." The snotty younger padawans. Even the younglings running underfoot annoyed him. Then there was the corrupt Senate, full of incompetent boobs and self-interested, spice-smoking slobs.
"Lately, I've been saying to myself, 'Why am I busting my hide for this? Where's my piece of the galactic dream?' Then I saw your want ad on Clieggslist and it was like destiny calling me."
"Excellent," Sidious said, steepling his fingers. A disillusioned cynic made for a great Sith Lord.
"So, what besides your powers and inside knowledge of the Jedi Order can you bring to the table?"
"Well, I have connections all over the galaxy in government, industry, media, bounty hunting, and cloning. My family is one of the great noble houses of Serrano and I am able to tap into vast amounts of wealth should I leave the Jedi Order. And I am a fabulous swordsman if I do say so myself. I am the only expert in Form II and I improvised this curved lightsaber hilt to make death and dismemberment even easier." He held up his lightsaber to show Sidious.
"Fantastic," Sidious said, admiring the handiwork.
"Now, I would like to know what the Sith is going to do for me," Dooku said, folding his hands.
"Heh heh, I like you already, Dooku," Sidious said with a wicked grin. "You'll find that your salary will exceed your requirements but you do not really need money. You'll have all of the henchmen, battle droids, weapons, secret bases, ships, and other support you'll need. We have an excellent 401(k) plan. The Sith also offers medical, vision, pet care, life insurance, workers' compensation, and supplemental death and dismemberment insurance. This is recommended since this is a high-risk profession. The dental plan's not so good, but when you die and go to hell, you'll automatically have control over 10,000 souls."
"That's a fair tradeoff," Dooku said, nodding his head. "Now, I am well aware the Sith have a reputation for their shall we say unusual appearance. I won't have to go about with tattoos, glowing eyes, half-cyborg heads, or any of that, do I? That's not really me."
"No, I suppose not," Sidious said. "In fact, it may serve our purposes if you remain looking like yourself."
"Does this mean I have the job?" Dooku asked.
"You've got the job!" Sidious said with a big grin. "Congratulations! You shall be henceforth called...Darth Tyranus!"
"Hmm, Tyranus. I rather like that. When do I start?"
"You start right now but do not resign from the Order just yet. We need to discuss your connections with the cloners."
"As long as we're bringing that up, I'd like to mention a jerk I know called Sifo-Dyas. The bastard screwed me out of a position on the Jedi Council."
"I'll have my secretary bring in some brandy..."
Th'End
