Writing Workshop Fic
The Last Holdout
by Brucha, Hex, & Maureen
Scene: The cavalry arrives in the climax of Thunderbolts #11, but they're being mind-controlled by the bad guy!
The war was going badly. The Empire was strong and the Rebel Alliance was splintering under the weight of the losses, and struggling to find the methodology of how best to accomplish their goals. They were too few in number and the resources of the Alliance's Supan Base were dwindling. If they could survive just a few more days, reinforcements would arrive. It wouldn't guarantee a win, but it would help lessen the loss. The most recent report had told them that the resupply ship Aardvark was only half a parsec away. If they could only endure a few more days, they could be resupplied with vital weapons, food and medicine needed to break the Imperial Forces and take them down a peg. It would be a hard won and critical victory.
General Lanta-Ol glanced at the radar showing where the Aardvark should be right now as it snuck through the blockade. It was still farther away than he preferred, but there was nothing he could do -- the ship could not use their hyperdrive engines while drifting through the Empire's fleet. "Status of the shields?" he barked at his lieutenant.
"Holding strong, sir," the lieutenant replied, his voice fatigued. He had been at his post for over 24 hours, refusing to leave. They had taken a lot of casualties in the course of the fighting and did not have enough people to do what needed to be done, much less change shifts. No one was complaining though, it needed to be done.
The lieutenant continued, "The Empire tried another salvo this morning, but our energy held out." They had diverted almost all power except life support to shields. When the resupply came, they would have more power cells along with the other necessities to continue to hold the base, securing the planet for the Alliance.
"Sir!" the lieutenant called, "I'm picking up a ship coming out of the blockade." He put the radar on screen, and a small but steady white blip crept forward from the red Empire ships towards them. As one, the few crewmembers on the base's command center exhaled, so close to relief. It wasn't there yet, but it would not be long.
In a few hours, the Rebel Captain hailed them, asking permission to land. The General granted it, rushing from the command center deep within the base and up to ground level, to oversee the landing and greet their salvation personally. For the first time in over a month, he smiled, pleased that the small ship had managed to successfully navigate through the blockade.
As the Aardvark's bay door opened, General Lanta-Ol stepped forward to greet his comrades -- only to be met by Stormtroopers leveling blaster rifles at him and his men. His heart sank to his feet as he realized what had happened. The Empire had gotten a hold of the ship, most likely killing the Alliance rebels and replacing them with their own. Somehow, somewhere, their salvation had turned into their destruction.
by Brucha, Hex, & Maureen
Scene: The cavalry arrives in the climax of Thunderbolts #11, but they're being mind-controlled by the bad guy!
The war was going badly. The Empire was strong and the Rebel Alliance was splintering under the weight of the losses, and struggling to find the methodology of how best to accomplish their goals. They were too few in number and the resources of the Alliance's Supan Base were dwindling. If they could survive just a few more days, reinforcements would arrive. It wouldn't guarantee a win, but it would help lessen the loss. The most recent report had told them that the resupply ship Aardvark was only half a parsec away. If they could only endure a few more days, they could be resupplied with vital weapons, food and medicine needed to break the Imperial Forces and take them down a peg. It would be a hard won and critical victory.
General Lanta-Ol glanced at the radar showing where the Aardvark should be right now as it snuck through the blockade. It was still farther away than he preferred, but there was nothing he could do -- the ship could not use their hyperdrive engines while drifting through the Empire's fleet. "Status of the shields?" he barked at his lieutenant.
"Holding strong, sir," the lieutenant replied, his voice fatigued. He had been at his post for over 24 hours, refusing to leave. They had taken a lot of casualties in the course of the fighting and did not have enough people to do what needed to be done, much less change shifts. No one was complaining though, it needed to be done.
The lieutenant continued, "The Empire tried another salvo this morning, but our energy held out." They had diverted almost all power except life support to shields. When the resupply came, they would have more power cells along with the other necessities to continue to hold the base, securing the planet for the Alliance.
"Sir!" the lieutenant called, "I'm picking up a ship coming out of the blockade." He put the radar on screen, and a small but steady white blip crept forward from the red Empire ships towards them. As one, the few crewmembers on the base's command center exhaled, so close to relief. It wasn't there yet, but it would not be long.
In a few hours, the Rebel Captain hailed them, asking permission to land. The General granted it, rushing from the command center deep within the base and up to ground level, to oversee the landing and greet their salvation personally. For the first time in over a month, he smiled, pleased that the small ship had managed to successfully navigate through the blockade.
As the Aardvark's bay door opened, General Lanta-Ol stepped forward to greet his comrades -- only to be met by Stormtroopers leveling blaster rifles at him and his men. His heart sank to his feet as he realized what had happened. The Empire had gotten a hold of the ship, most likely killing the Alliance rebels and replacing them with their own. Somehow, somewhere, their salvation had turned into their destruction.