Inspired by the USS Texas and habitual_line_crosser on Instagram.
Sometimes, Artur really hated his job.
He wasn't trained for this, but with Thrawn being summoned by the Emperor, Faro confirming her new rank, Woldar on leave, and Hammerly bedridden with Terran influenza of all things, he was de-facto commander of the Chimaera.
And now his stormtroopers are getting torn apart by a surprisingly well-equipped rebel cell, and they're too far from the surface at too awkward an angle to provide fire support.
Any closer and surface defense systems will tear them to shreds.
And that's when it came to him. All those weeks learning Terran history finally paid off.
"Sir, comms from the rebel leader."
Artur, trying to keep the smugness off his face, accepted the call right there on the bridge.
"I'm guessing it's too much to assume that you're calling to negotiate terms of surrender?"
"Hah, you're getting slaughtered down here, and you can't provide fire support without getting yourself shredded. If anything, I'm giving you a chance to surrender."
Artur finally let his smug grin show, and the rebel leader, whose name he didn't know, visibly reeled back in surprise and trepidition.
"The word "can't" is like rebels. I'm not a fan. Agral, deactivate all portside engines and gyroscope. Pyro, overcharge the cannons."
"Bu-but that could destroy your systems", the rebel said, fear seeping into his voice. Artur only gave him a grin, smug, sadistic, and a little crazy.
"Well, unluckily for you, my sense of equipment preservation is significantly weaker than my urge to hit Delete on your entire kriffing cell. Standby."
"GET TO THE BUNKERS!!" could be heard before the comms channel went dead.
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"They did what?" Thrawn asked, already feeling a headache approaching as he got a call from Kuat with a bill for dragging the Chimaera halfway across the galaxy to the KDY for repairs.
Sometimes, he really hated his job.
