The forward screen, which up to now had been showing the Imperial ship, flashing black for a second before showing the same officer as before, his all-black uniform without wrinkles. The huge bridge in the background remains unchanged.
“Attention F.D.F Reliant. You have violated the rules of the Empire. Power down all systems. Prepare to be boarded. Your ship is now the property of the empire. You are under arrest. Any resistance to my boarding party will be treated as a hostile act, and your nation will be at war with the Empire. You have 30 seconds to act. Do not waste them.”
The transmission ends, with the officer smirking before cutting the feed.
The captain’s face contorts in anger. Before uttering a statement.
“Go to condition one. Raise shields, power to all weapons. Marines to boarding positions. Prep a welcoming party for the incoming shuttle. Put a squad or two in the nearby corridors.”
A flurry of action begins. Several announcements are blared over the P.A. system.
“All crew to battle stations! All crew to battle stations!”
“Seal suits. Seal suits. Seal suits.”
Almost immediately, the comms channel is alight with secondary officers ordering crew around, questions, and reports. Within 30 seconds, a squad of marines in full battle gear assumes positions around the bridge. The bridge crew are busy with sealing their suits. The captain checks her sidearm, making sure that the power is good, and that the gun is ready to fire, before putting it back into her holster. The other crew do the same. After a few minutes, the distant alarms are mixed with the thumping of crew hurrying to stations.
Outside the Reliant, a squadron of fighter escorts a single small shuttle. Inside, Stormtroopers wait, checking weapons and armor. The fighters fly away from the Reliant, with the shuttle landing inside a cavernous hanger bay. The flight crew that would be present are hidden in several corridors surrounding the hanger bay, armed and ready to counter any hostiles. A small “welcoming committee”, consisting of an officer, along with a marine Honor Guard, are present. All are wearing full combat armor, except for the officer. The Officer is wearing an ornate armor, decorated with stripes of color, with awards and badges displayed on the left breast. A sword, just as decorated as the armor, is strapped to the officer’s hip, with runes etched down its length. The marines have small combat knives, heavy assault rifles, and pistols. Two more squads of marines are prepared for combat in the surrounding cordors, and all crew have evacuated from the outer hull. As the ship is landing, one of the marines orders the bulkheads to shut in the surrounding area, and arms the various traps and turrets hidden in the corridors. The shuttle lands, and a small ramp descends, and with it, an imperial officer, wearing a dark gray suit, with a cap. Two stormtroopers flank the officer, their pearly white armor finely shined. The Federation officer salutes his imperial counterpart, without her responding. A small voice crackles in the ear of the Federation officer.
“I have the enemy officer in my sights. Requesting permission to fire.”
The Federation officer puts his hands behind his back, and, using hand signals, tells the marine to hold. The imperial officer speaks up.
“I am Myra Pavan, an officer of the Galactic Empire. My commander has ordered your ship to stand down. Please direct me to this ship’s bridge.”
The federation officer replies.
“Unfortunately, I am unable to comply with this order.”
Stormtroopers spill out of the Imperial Shuttle, taking up positions behind the imperial officer.
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“You would defy the emperor’s will?”
“We only wish for peace between our nations.”
“There will be no peace when interlopers like you still stand.”
“My captain requested permission to withdraw from your space, and she was denied.”
“People like you don’t deserve to live.”
“I don’t understan-”
The imperial officer suddenly whips out her pistol, her face a tarnished sculpture of anger, honor, and duty. The stormtroopers raise their weapons in deadly sync.
“Then DIE.”
In seconds, a firefight erupts. The hidden sniper in the hangar fires a quintuplet of shots, spearing the officer and all 3 squad leaders of the stormtroopers. Lances of light fly from the stormtrooper’s weapons, the troopers themselves scattering for cover. Quickly, they are pushed back into the shuttle, where they seal the door and prepare to take off. Half a dozen stormtroopers are either dead or dying. 3 others were stunned for interrogation. On the federation side, the officer took a blast to the chest. His armor protected him from the worst, but the heat of the blast inflicted burns on his chest. A nearby marine, over the comms, orders a marine with a heavy weapon to disable the shuttle’s engines. Orders fly over the comms, directing personnel everywhere.
“Medical teams to hanger 23! Immediate assistance needed!”
A medi-drone warbles down from a hatch in the ceiling, attending to the officer’s wounds. Several others are attempting to save the stormtroopers from dying. A marine with a large weapon fires several bursts into the imperial shuttle, jolting it, and preventing it from taking off. Another marine runs over to the bottom of the shuttle, attaching a small object before running away. A small little light flashes, signaling its handler that it is armed and ready.
“Disabling hostile shuttle!”
A yellow light flashes on the bottom, lighting flashing across the hull of the ship. The shuttle falls to the ground, anything with electronics disabled. A team of marines, with shields and rifles, runs up to the shuttle's hatch and starts breaching the entry hatch at the rear of the shuttle. A second team of marines takes up positions, ready to spit death into the interior of the shuttle. The marine cutting open the hatch reaches where he started, lines of molten orange lining the hatch. He pulls to the side, a marine in larger armor, and with a shield. Ready.
“Marine squad 15, to Central, requesting permission to breach the enemy shuttle.”
“This is Central. Permission granted.”
As soon as the comms falls silent, The marine lifts his leg, servos whining.
“Breaching enemy vessel!”
“Breach!”
With all the anger of his fallen comrades, the marine kicks the hatch, so hard that it smashes it into pieces, impaling a stormtrooper, and knocking another over. A second marine moves up with a huge chaingun, ready to obliterate the enemy. However, a small little screen on the side of the gun reads: STUN.
The stormtroopers fire off a few paltry shots, glancing off the marine’s armor, before his weapon lets loose a torrent of beams, hosing down the shuttle. The two pilots at the cockpit have their pistols out, spraying gunfire as much as they can before they are hit. They last longer than the stormtroopers, but eventually fall to the marine’s deluge of gunfire. She pulls back, and more marines stream in, checking each stormtrooper, and collecting the weapons for analysis. They are laid out in the hanger unceremoniously, with their dead, the ones that were so injured that even the medi-drones could not save them.
The dead are in body bags, and the fallen marines are prepared for a honorful funeral, according to their wishes. One wants to be cast into his home system's star, another placed in a stable orbit of a particular colony, and the final to have her ashes spread in the vacuum of space. In the coming weeks, their wishes will be honored, with their name, rank, and deeds etched into the casket, Their dog tags will be placed into the Battalion’s records. Even now, a FTL-comms message flies to the nearest federation relay, telling the A.I. of the grand memorial on Terra to have these marines added. On Terra, in the federation's memorial to all that have fallen in service, 3 little drones fly out from the fabricators, each displaying a hologram of the deceased marines faces. These three join the countless millions of drones swaying in perfect formation, forming a glowing angel of holograms and drones. The light from the memorial can be seen from space, a little blue dot. Although they may be forgotten in the memory of the living, the custodian A.I. that takes care of the facility will remember them for as long as she may exist.