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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2212114
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2212114
A conversation between marines when Darth Vader arrives in the Deathstar.

R

ow after row of white armored marines lined up by division on the Promenade deck. The Promenade deck is wide enough for at least five thousand Marines to muster and deep enough for an imperial transport to land and discharge its cargo. Just moments ago, before the marines mustered, a small Corvette landed at the hangar door end of the Promenade deck. It lined up precisely in the center, aligned with the door on the opposite side of the Promenade deck. The marines assembled with 1500 on either side of the walkway between the door and the ship.

         "Hey, Samo, what do you think we're mustering for this time?”
         "Cato, I have no idea. I hope it's not another lecture on how we need to serve the Republic better. That crap is getting really old.”
         "This feels very different. I don't recognize the Insignia on that Corvette, do you?”
         "No, that's a new one to me. I hope it's not some new brass that's going to demand that we triple or quadruple our efforts.”
         "Did you hear they sent Jericho Squad out to put vent covers on?”
         "What do you mean out?
         "You know out in space,” Cato said as he gestured towards the forcefield guarded hangar door on the Promenade deck, he added “Apparently there are no more droids available to do the work.”
         "They’ve run out of droids? How is that even possible?”
         "I have no idea. They gave Jericho Squad screwdrivers and sent them outside,” Cato said then added. “This space station was supposed to get whatever it needed to be completed on schedule. It looks like the Republic's resources are thinner than they told us.”
         "Oh, that's messed up. Uh oh, I think something's happening.”

         A long ramp was deployed from the back of the Corvette. Four members of the elite Imperial Guard marched down the ramp and separated into two on either side of the ramp at the end. Several moments later a tall dark figure strode down the ramp confidently.

         "Oh no, not him,” Cato muttered.
         "We are so screwed now. I knew I should have put in for that transfer when I had the chance last week.”
         "Transfer? Like that would have worked. There is no way it would have gone through. They are not letting any of us out of this place until it's completed. Since the emperor got here, we are stuck for the duration.
         "The emperor is here? When … when did that happen?”

         The dark figure walked down the open space between the ranks of the Space Marines paused, turned and scanned the ranks to both sides. From a doorway opposite the ship, several ranking officers walked out and met the tall dark figure.

         "A week ago. You must have been on patrol,” Cato answered.
         “This is not good. This is the opposite of good. This is the complete opposite of good. Every place that guy goes people die. And by people I mean us. If you thought the emperor didn't give a damn about you this guy is even worse,” Samo said.
         "Maybe if we volunteer for guard duty on the moon below us we can get off this thing,” Cato said the added. “Those little furry guys down there can’t be as dangerous as being around this guy.”

         The dark figure conferred with one of the officers for a moment and then they walked back towards the door the officers came through and passed out of sight, followed by the elite Imperial Guard. The door closed silently behind them and for several minutes the deck was silent. The order was issued for the marines to return to their regular duty; they filtered out of the Promenade deck by squads.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2212114