"As I holla’d, Captain, patience," Thrawn holla’d. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "Even up in sensor stealth mode wit all engines shut down, he’ll have made shizzle his schmoooove ass can juice up n’ escape before any battle force could reach his muthafuckin ass." Dude smiled at Pellaeon. "Or rather, any battle force from tha Chimaera."
A stray memory clicked: Thrawn, reachin fo’ his comm just as Pellaeon was givin tha ground forces tha order ta attack. “Yo ass busted a message ta tha rest of tha fleet,” da perved-out muthafucka holla’d. Y’all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! “Timin it against mah battle order ta mask tha transmission.”
Thrawnz blue-black eyebrows lifted a gangbangin’ fraction. “Straight-up good, Captain. I aint talkin’ bout chicken n’ gravy biatch. Straight-up good, indeed.”
Pellaeon felt a funky-ass bust a nut on of warmth on his cheeks. Da Grand Admiralz compliments was few n’ far between “Nuff props, sir.”