Who was expecting this? Not me, TBH. I was working on a Star Wars parody with my Vassago character when I got sick of it and scrapped it. Fortunately, I binge-watched the new season of Archer afterwards, and it got this idea percolating in my head. Hope you all enjoy!

Note: Star Wars is the intellectual property of Disney and Lucasfilms. Archer is the intellectual property of Adam Reed. They deserve the love!

Well, maybe George gets a little less. Not for any particular reason.

Cough*Jar-Jar*Cough

Lord Vader was not pleased. Or at least, you had to guess that, given the mask over his face. The fact that he was force choking a subordinate was a good indicator of his current mood, though.

"You let the droids and their rebel compatriots escape with the plans. Explain yourself," he said.

"I… can't," the officer gasped, grabbing at his throat. "...Choking."

Under the mask, Vader rolled his eyes and released the man from his influence. The man fell to the ground, sucking in air. "Explain, Lt. Archer."

"Wait, just a sec," the officer replied. "I think I'm going to bruise."

"You think?" the man's partner asked, shaking her head.

"Lana, unlike some people on this ship, I don't exactly come out of strangulation with nothing more than arousal."

"Was that directed at me?" a woman shouted from the other room.

"Yes, Cheryl! Yes it was!" Archer shouted back, then grimaced and rubbed his throat again. "God, that was hell on the vocal chords."

"Drink some herbal tea," Communications Technician Tunt called back.

Archer shook his head. "Where am I going to get herbal tea in space?"

"What am I, Google Maps?"

"What is going on here?" a dignified, older female officer strolled into the interrogation room uninvited, cradling a tumbler of Corellian whiskey in her hand. "Sterling! What are you doing?"

"Massaging my larynx," Archer replied. "Seriously, Vader, try being polite for once. I'm surprised half the people on this space station can still talk."

Moff Tarkin hurried in. "Lord Vader, I tried to stop her, but she is quite insistent."

"I know," Archer muttered. "Try living with her."

"Zip it, young man," Admiral Malory Archer said, shaking a finger angrily at her son. She turned back to the man in black. "Lord Vader, what gave you authority to interrogate one of my subordinates without my presence?"

"Probably the scary mask and implication of violence," Archer wheezed.

"Quiet, Sterling. Let the grownups talk," his mother snapped angrily. She turned back to the Sith Lord. "Lord Vader, discipline of Lt. Archer is handled under my jurisdiction."

"I find, Admiral Archer, that your personal relationship to the lieutenant impairs your ability to mete out punishment," Vader replied, turning to face the woman.

"You'd think that, but she knows how to throw a punch."

Lt. Kane punched her associate in the shoulder. "Archer, for the love of Force, shut up."

"I'm no stranger when it comes to the rod," Malory said.

"Phrasing," Archer murmured.

Vader raised his gloved hand again, and Archer began to choke.

"Sploosh," Comm. Technician Tunt whispered, peering in from the hall.

"Cheryl, get back to your post!"

"You're not my supervisor!" Cheryl yelled back, eyes blazing. She paused. "Oh, wait, you are."

"Lord Vader, can you do me a favor?"

Vader complied, turning his attention to the glorified secretary. Her face turned red, and she grabbed her throat. After a few seconds, Vader released her, and she fell to the ground, letting out a satisfied moan.

"Jesus, Cheryl," Lana groaned. "Did you just orgasm?"

"Ohhhh," Cheryl moaned, toes curling. She squinted up at the black-clad Sith Lord and purred. "Thank you."

Vader turned to back to the Admiral. "I find your staff quite infuriating."

"So do I," the woman replied, lifting the glass to her mouth. "Whiskey helps."

Vader reached out slapped the tumbler from her hand. "Enough, Admiral. Your team's incompetence has cost the Empire valuable information. You are hereby stripped of your rank and command."

"Woo! No boss, no rules!" Cheryl pumped her fists from the ground.

"As of now, you and your subordinates are under arrest, facing court-martial proceedings once we return to Coruscant."

A host of stormtroopers entered the room, blasters drawn. "Take them to the cells. Round up the rest of Archer's staff."

With a swish of his cape, the Sith Lord left the room. One of the stormtroopers stepped forwards. "Come with us, and don't try to resist."

"Okay, but do any of you have a lozenge?" Archer asked, "Seriously, my throat is killing me." The reply was a stun pulse to the chest.

"Oooh!" Cheryl shot up, clapping her hands. "Do me, do me!"

"What?" the stormtrooper asked, giving the Comm. Techie a questioning look under his helmet.

"DO ME!" Cheryl screamed, throwing herself at the trooper. Stunners took her down, leaving her a quivering, moaning pile next to Archer.

"Force, Cheryl," Lana muttered.

"Oddly enough, I've grown used to this sort of behavior," Malory said. She stiffened. "Oh god, I've gone native."


"What?" Archer asked. "This is totally not my fault."

"Yes it is," his cellmates replied in tandem.

"How?"

"You let those droids escape Mos Eisley," Lana replied.

"The old man said those weren't the droids we were looking for," Archer said, shrugging.

"And you believed him?" Quartermaster Cyril Figgis asked.

"I honestly didn't care at that point," Archer replied. "I just wanted to get off that hot planet. My armor was like the Dagobah swamps."

"So you jeopardized the mission and got us locked up for incompetence," Malory said, crossing her arms and leaning back against the cold metal wall. "If we don't get choked to death by Vader, we'll probably face a firing squad."

"Fingers crossed for Vader," Cheryl whispered.

"Well, when you say it like that, it does seem like my fault." Archer ducked as a shoe flew past his head. "Hey! Why's everyone worrying? We've been court-martialed before. Remember Lothal?"

"How can I forget," Malory moaned, recalling the incident. "We let those rebel agents escape capture because you were seduced by the pilot."

"Hey! I let her seduce me," Archer defended himself. "Plus, you ever been with a Twi'lek? I'd let her dock with me anytime."

"So would I," HR Officer Pam Poovey, fanning herself.

"Of course you would," Lana said.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Pam, you've slept with almost everyone in this room except me and the Admiral."

The cell door flew open just then, and two more cellmates were tossed in. "Dukes," the blond one said as the door slid shut. "You think they've got a personal grudge against us."

"Well, not against you," the bearded one said, rubbing his head.

"Krieger, what did you do?" Malory asked.

"It wasn't something I did," the scientist began.


"Oh, Force! It's inside my suit!"

"Somebody help Brett!"

"Get his helmet off!"

"It's biting my balls!"

"Somebody kill it!"

Krieger pulled out a blaster and cocked it. "Never! I need to study its effects on the human body!"

"It's crawling up my urethra!"

"Phase Two!" the scientist gasped, right before he took a stun blast to the chest.


"Poor Wormly," Krieger said, looking down at the floor.

"Well, at least Brett didn't get shot for once," Archer said, laughing to himself.

"Well, this is great," Malory muttered, crossing her arms. "Stuck in a cell with the lunatic fringe. I think I might die of humiliation before we even get court-martialed."

"Wait!" Lana shouted, holding a finger up for silence. Outside the cell, blaster fire could be heard. "What is that?"

"Maybe Wormly got out of Brett's urethra and is on a kinky sex rampage," Archer said.

"I like the sound of that," Cheryl said.

"Me, too," Krieger agreed.

"Shh! Someone's coming!" Lana said.

The door slid open, and a stormtrooper clattered in. "My name is Luke Skywalker, I'm here to-" he was cut off as he went down from a flying tackle by Archer. "Wait, I'm not a stormtrooper!"

Malory watched impassively as her son beat the intruder. "Imbeciles," she muttered.