Captain Kia Mast of the Imperial Star Destroyer Obliterator glanced at the chrono as he made his way onto the bridge. It read 0023, Coruscant time, which the ship ran on when not in port. He rubbed his eyes sleepily. His uniform, usually as tidy as he (actually the laundry droids) could make it, was wrinkled, he had bags under his eyes, and the usual grace in his step was unusually absent.
Major Grad, who currently had command of the bridge, looked up at the catwalk above the control console he was examining.
"Can't sleep, sir?" He asked.
"No, major."
"Is their anything I can do, sir?" He asked, making his way up the ramp to join his captain. "You know I canadjust the temperature in your quarters, send for a-"
"No thank you, major."
"Sir, I really think you should have a medical droid examine you." This wasn't the first, second, or even third time the captain had visited the bridge in the middle of the night.
"Maybe tomorrow, major."
Grad knew that the captain never would, but let the subject drop anyway. The captain liked to maintain friendly relations with his crew, but there was still a limit.
He came up beside his captain and glanced out to see what he was looking at. There was nothing, of course. There was nothing around for several miles, except the occasional pirate, smuggler, or rebel who used this (supposedly) deserted area as a jump-off point.
What was… he glanced at a flash of color he had noticed to his left, at the same time that his captain's head turned toward the same spot. His mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. The Obliterator was about to gain another kill.
The young lieutenant watching the scanners already had it. "Captain-"
"I see it. YT-1300?"
"1500, actually. He's already in tractor range."
Yes… but why hasn't he tried to evade?
"Order him to stand down."
"Done, sir." These things had become so commonplace that the bridge crew had recorded a message instructing the target to do just that, to save their voice.
"Sir, target has radioed in that he is powering down weapons and is bringing his ship to idle."
"And is he telling the truth?" Mast asked.
"Yes, sir. Weapons are powered down and engines have been brought to idle."
"Any life forms aboard?"
"Just the pilot."
"Ok, get a welcoming party into the hangar. Prepare for tractor."
"Locked."
"Fire."
The ship shook slightly as the invisible beam of energy took hold of it.
"Bring it in."
"Yes, sir. Open hangar doors."
Mast felt the familiar rumble as the giant doors cranked open to accept the ship's newest guest.
"Team 1 reports that the ship is in."
"Close hangar doors."
The doors slid shut just as the tractors set the ship down. The ship could not escape now- the hangar doors were thick enough to withstand up to 5 direct hits from proton torpedoes-, but one of the stormtroopers in the hangar gave it a blast with a handheld ion cannon, just to make sure.
The ramp lowered-it operated on a hydraulic system rather than an electrical one- and the stormtroopers leveled their blaster rifles.
"You are now a prisoner of the Empire. Come out with your hands in the air." The squad's leader announced, the volume system in his helmet turned all the way up.
The squad waited, cautious but not tense. After all, there was only one life form aboard, wasn't there?
Suddenly, 5 figures, each armed with a glowing blade of blue or green, shot out of the opening.