A yawn protruded from the commander's lips as he watched over boringly the empty space he'd been assigned to. Sure his whole life he'd always wanted to command a task force, but this was ridiculous! This was nothing! This was taking a few starships to abandoned and empty space to sit there and hope that ghosts came.
"This is bantha crap," one of the non-coms said from about the bridge, slouching lazily in his chair. They'd sat there for hours on end, hoping something would come, hoping they could just go back to their daily routines as soldiers. Nothing had come for twelve hours.
"Watch your mouth," a commissioned officer said from somewhere else. No one could really blame the kid, he was bored, hot, and pissed like the rest of them.
But still...
The radars had shown nothing for several hours, the communiques were silent as outer space itself, the engines were not even online at the moment so that they wouldn't waste good air conditioning.
"This had better be worth-," the commander was saying when suddenly several alrms went off all about the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer. He rubbed the last bits of exhaustion out of his eyes and ran down the catawalks of the bridge to the scanners, his shirt only half-buttoned as he did so, loud clanks from his boots nearly superceding that of the alarms.
When he got there he saw exactly what he wanted to see. Several dozen cargo ships all bearing Trade Federation IFF codes.
"Holy mother loving nerf herder, that's our ships!" he said with strained excitement. They had all been tugged out of hyperspace by the Jutraalian interdictor nearby. "Escorts?" he demanded of the sensor watcher.
"Um...two Gunships sir."
"IFF codes?"
"Looks like mercenaries."
"Okay get the INT02s up there, force them back where they came."
"Roger sir."
The space about the trade route had exploded into a flurry of activity. The massive gravity generated by the INT02 Mobilizer Cruisers had already thrown the enemy escorts into hyperspace. The battle began in full. Blue streaks of ion cannons began, hell broke lose.
This was battle.
"This is bantha crap," one of the non-coms said from about the bridge, slouching lazily in his chair. They'd sat there for hours on end, hoping something would come, hoping they could just go back to their daily routines as soldiers. Nothing had come for twelve hours.
"Watch your mouth," a commissioned officer said from somewhere else. No one could really blame the kid, he was bored, hot, and pissed like the rest of them.
But still...
The radars had shown nothing for several hours, the communiques were silent as outer space itself, the engines were not even online at the moment so that they wouldn't waste good air conditioning.
"This had better be worth-," the commander was saying when suddenly several alrms went off all about the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer. He rubbed the last bits of exhaustion out of his eyes and ran down the catawalks of the bridge to the scanners, his shirt only half-buttoned as he did so, loud clanks from his boots nearly superceding that of the alarms.
When he got there he saw exactly what he wanted to see. Several dozen cargo ships all bearing Trade Federation IFF codes.
"Holy mother loving nerf herder, that's our ships!" he said with strained excitement. They had all been tugged out of hyperspace by the Jutraalian interdictor nearby. "Escorts?" he demanded of the sensor watcher.
"Um...two Gunships sir."
"IFF codes?"
"Looks like mercenaries."
"Okay get the INT02s up there, force them back where they came."
"Roger sir."
***
The space about the trade route had exploded into a flurry of activity. The massive gravity generated by the INT02 Mobilizer Cruisers had already thrown the enemy escorts into hyperspace. The battle began in full. Blue streaks of ion cannons began, hell broke lose.
This was battle.