Space, it’s so vast and lonely, your only companion is the steady thrum of the machinery on your capital vessel. Occasionally, a communication might disrupt this steady rhythmic thrum, an order here, a greeting there.
Ranzeth: "Enemy homeworld appears to be all clear."
Commaneder: “Roger, continue your patrol.”
Slowly, the brave Empire soldier floated through space ensuring the rebel forces were kept planetside, protected solely by their strange alien technology that barred all entry but theirs. Suddenly, a warning blipped on his radar.
“What is this?”
Quickly, Ranzeth scanned the red marker, the information that he received surprised him. It was the Supreme Admiral’s ship, the leader of the rebel scum, the traitor to the universe. Without hesitation, he moved to engage.
“I’ve got you now.” His thought was quickly interrupted as another enemy blip appeared on radar.
“No time to play the hero now,” Without further hesitation, he put out a distress call.
“This is Scout Ranzeth, engaging with multiple rebel vehicles, Homeworld fleet support requested.”
That was the last thing he thought for some time. Minutes flew by, support warped in, more enemies warped in and a frantic engagement began. Orders were called out, and the Empire entered into formation Alpha 7.6. This particular strategy appeared to be too much for them, for when the dust settled all that remained was the husk of the Supreme Admiral’s ship, his supporting forces were nowhere to be seen.
“Long live the Empire!”