Snippet #1321888

"Well..." Ian Throckmorton Searles stood at the foot of the Empty Box's boarding ramp, watching the spaceport before him. "This could be a minor problem."

As the Horsham native looked detatchedly out over the harbor, leaning heavily against his cane and clenching a pipe in his jaw, high-caliber explosive shells fired from orbit were raining down on the settlement that spread out in front of him. Massive orange fireballs consumed the squat adobe huts that formed the town, throwing debris and corpses high into the air. A shell struck just a few hundred yards from where he stood, a wave of heat and air causing the check-in building in front of him to implode in a swirling nexus of smoke and flame. The debris peppered the hull of the big transport vessel, the interior of the cargo bay echoing with tiny punk-punk-punk sounds.

"I suppose that this has something to do with the package you brought aboard our vessel..." Searles said in his regal tones, only to drop the statement when he realised that the young man who had guided the massive black box in the cargo hold to the Empty Box was now sprinting down the rows of vessels that were hastily making preparations to leave - those that were capable of motion, anyhow. Ian stood and watched a moment longer as several blocky, gunmetal-gray dropships burnt through the skies overhead, moving towards the spaceport. Even as he watched, one of the dropships came to a hover, its bay doors opening to reveal several platoons of heavily armed stormtroopers. Neither the ship nor the vessel bore any external markings, but their intent became obvious as the troopers roped down from the drop bay and opened fire on anyone dumb enough to be caught outside when they landed.

Such as Searles himself.

The cargo pilot grimaced and managed to let out a sharp "oh dear!" as he beat a path up the boarding ramp, taking the time to remove his pistol from his belt and saturate the landing area with fire before he smashed the emergency shut button inside the bay and watched as the craft sealed itself up tight as a drum, the sound of small arms fire plinking uselessly against the sealed bulkhead.

He picked up the intercom connecting to the ship's PA system and thumbed the speaker to an activated position. "Batten down all the loose objects and man your stations, ladies and gentlemen, we are making our exit!" He resumed his limping gait towards the bridge, the sound of his cane echoing up and down the halls of the ship as he entered the lift, threw open the bulkheads to the bridge, and plopped down in the captain's chair, pulling up various displays, unlocking the ship's thrusters and warming the engines up for takeoff from the command station at his chair.

The sounds of machinery erupted from the bowels of the ship as the beast's drive engines roared slowly to life, belching fire to the outside world as the Empty Box began to rise off the ground.