"Hold that light steady Davik!" Rav rolled his eyes and harrumphed as he scolded his compatriot "Drusk, my cape needs to look more...urm...wavey yes?" he snapped as the Trandoshan attempted to comply with the command.
"This, this, is my mome...I mean our moment boys! The chance of a lifetime, it will make all the galaxy know the name, Captain Haskeen of the...." the Captain paused. His gang, his merry crew, did not have a name. Quickly his mind raced as he invented one on the spot "The Corellian Corsairs!"
A chorus of 'yarrs' rose up to meet him, as he swept his tentacles back and turned to face the camera crew, which consisted of his able first mate, whose name he had quite forgotten.
The camera-man counted down, as the lights came up and the holo feed for their ransom of President Thorne, began.
Addressing the people of the Galaxy, Captain Rav Haskeen of the Corellian Corsairs stood, in a defiant pose, his shirt open to reveal a muscle-bound chest, a cape rippling behind him, thanks to the efforts of a large fan being held off-camera, his cutlass in his right hand, his left fist clenched.
"People of the Galaxy." he began in a deep voice "I, Captain Haskeen, of the Corsair, hold here on my vessel, your leader." he smiled as he reached the next section of his proclamation "Many of you, no doubt, have heard the name 'Haskeen', but few have seen the legend in action. But your 'President' has now fallen before my blade, and surrendered to my charge."
Haskeen made the entire broadcast about him - naturally - as he paced across the bridge, the camera following him.
"Apprehending your 'President', I single-handedly cut through swathes of his men, veterans of countless wars each. My blade sang with the joy of murder, as your Presidents elite forces fell like wheat before a scythe, unable to stand before the strength of my arm, and the speed of my....of my arm." he briefly checked the autocue behind the camera.
"But then, your 'President', fell to his knees - and begged to be spared."
"I, Captain Haskeen, am a merciful man - and so I chose to spare him, despite the considerable reward for his corpse. This is why I know to offer you the chance to purchase his continued safety and freedom. I know, for some reason, this pitiful man is one you respect, and love, so I give you this chance to show your adoration. All I ask for."
He turned to stare down the camera.
"TEN-MIIIIIILLLLLLLIIIIOOOOOOON CREDITS."
He began to laugh, off-screen the diabolical cackling of his crew could be heard, as eventually, Captain Haskeen regained his composure.
"The payment is to be made in unmarked, untraceable currency. You have three rotations to comply, or your 'President' Thorne, shall be delivered to the steps of the Galactic Senate, in pieces."
He slashes his sabre down, and look imperiously down the camera, as the transmission came to a close.
"This, this, is my mome...I mean our moment boys! The chance of a lifetime, it will make all the galaxy know the name, Captain Haskeen of the...." the Captain paused. His gang, his merry crew, did not have a name. Quickly his mind raced as he invented one on the spot "The Corellian Corsairs!"
A chorus of 'yarrs' rose up to meet him, as he swept his tentacles back and turned to face the camera crew, which consisted of his able first mate, whose name he had quite forgotten.
The camera-man counted down, as the lights came up and the holo feed for their ransom of President Thorne, began.
Addressing the people of the Galaxy, Captain Rav Haskeen of the Corellian Corsairs stood, in a defiant pose, his shirt open to reveal a muscle-bound chest, a cape rippling behind him, thanks to the efforts of a large fan being held off-camera, his cutlass in his right hand, his left fist clenched.
"People of the Galaxy." he began in a deep voice "I, Captain Haskeen, of the Corsair, hold here on my vessel, your leader." he smiled as he reached the next section of his proclamation "Many of you, no doubt, have heard the name 'Haskeen', but few have seen the legend in action. But your 'President' has now fallen before my blade, and surrendered to my charge."
Haskeen made the entire broadcast about him - naturally - as he paced across the bridge, the camera following him.
"Apprehending your 'President', I single-handedly cut through swathes of his men, veterans of countless wars each. My blade sang with the joy of murder, as your Presidents elite forces fell like wheat before a scythe, unable to stand before the strength of my arm, and the speed of my....of my arm." he briefly checked the autocue behind the camera.
"But then, your 'President', fell to his knees - and begged to be spared."
"I, Captain Haskeen, am a merciful man - and so I chose to spare him, despite the considerable reward for his corpse. This is why I know to offer you the chance to purchase his continued safety and freedom. I know, for some reason, this pitiful man is one you respect, and love, so I give you this chance to show your adoration. All I ask for."
He turned to stare down the camera.
"TEN-MIIIIIILLLLLLLIIIIOOOOOOON CREDITS."
He began to laugh, off-screen the diabolical cackling of his crew could be heard, as eventually, Captain Haskeen regained his composure.
"The payment is to be made in unmarked, untraceable currency. You have three rotations to comply, or your 'President' Thorne, shall be delivered to the steps of the Galactic Senate, in pieces."
He slashes his sabre down, and look imperiously down the camera, as the transmission came to a close.