“I want a break”
“Shut the hell up Kardin. We haven’t even done anything useful yet, and we’re STILL 30 minutes behind schedule. No thanks to YOU changing all the clocks in our hanger.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“Which explains why my clock is currently displaying 25:93.”
“I didn’t do that.”
“We will discuss this later. Garron, do you have the right gate key? We don’t want another Zyto to happen.”
“I triple-checked before we even considered getting ready to head out.”
There is a mumbling over the channel, What was that?”
“I said I though Zyto was funny.”
“Jen, you’re the only one who does.”
“What was Zyto?”
“Before your time, Daine. Jen switched the gatekeys for a routine pirate hunt, and sent us to a small planet called Zyto. We discovered that Zyto was colonized by a small group of Rook pilots who didn’t like outsiders. That was not fun. Now, everyone get in the gate, before you discover how unfriendly friendly fire can be.”
Finally, we gate to the planet. We come out surrounded by low level mechs, "WALKING SCAP! CHARGE!”
“Wait, Kardin-”
“FOLLOW HIM!”
“No, guys, wait-”
“DEATH TO OUR ENEMIES!”
Despite my protests, we decimate a bunch of small, unprepared squads. After the battle, my team are still jumpy from adrenaline.
“Let’s go find more stuff to kill!”
“How about no.”
“Buzzkill.”
“Pardon, Raleigh?”
“Buzzkill. You.”
“That’s not the response I was gunning for.”
“I know.”
“I’ll take out communications.”
“Clanise, not aga-”
A very loud siren sounds, “YOU IDIOT! YOU DID THIS IN THE LAST WAR TOO!”
“How was I supposed to know that it had an alarm?”
“Because, I don’t know, it’s exactly the same station as the LAST one you destroyed, and OUR long-range Comm stations?”
“We’ll take them all on!”
“Would you like to know WHY we’ve been running weird missions across the galaxy against random people? We’ve been testing out our potential opponents. These squads were all we could defeat. Now, anyone else that comes from their side is able to take us down easily.”
“Sir, transmission from the other captain on advance guard.”
“That’s not a message, that’s a recording.”
“What?”
“Our long-range mechs are programmed to tell the other squad if we’re forced back through the gate we came through. If we don’t retreat now, we may not live to see sunrise.”
As if on cue, a missile explodes in the center of our squad, “Run. Now. That is an order.”
We are forced back. We return to our hanger, to repair, and rest. We receive a transmission from our leader telling us that despite his best efforts, our army is losing.
Submitted by Toby Easterbrook#844872