"Hey, Captain, rise and shine." I open my eyes and look at the private staring back at me. "New mission?" "No other reason to call us." I stand up and dust myself off, before grabbing my gear. "What's the deal this time?" "Terrorist group in the L-4 quadrant." Shit, L-4 was Sore Loser territory. Fucking Sore Losers, always lost whatever fight they started but they made sure to decimate the other side first, hence the name.

I piloted the ship towards the quadrant and ran a deep space scan. Deep Well cloaking tech surrounding us for at least half an EO (earth orbit). Sore Losers shouldn't have something like that, fuck, there's so many.

Boom

The ship got blasted soon as the scan finished, we got hit hard. I saw a ship speed towards us and then I blacked out.

Came to in a plas cell on a scrap ship. It's definitely Sore Losers. These fuckers take pieces and scavenge what tech they can use from the dead. This holding cell ain't the worst part, if they got us that means that my crew is either dead or P.O.Ws of these sick bastards. They use P.O.Ws to "test" tech, from new blasters they picked up to some experimental drugs that aren't logged in GGLs (galactic goods logs). I try and access any of my parts. All disabled, looks the cell came with EMP capabilities.

I sit back, and shout. "Any Sub-marines in the sky?" "sir no sir.." Sounds like..."is that you Lieutenant?" "Aye captain, but I'm not doing good." "Shit, I've gotta get us outta here." "I don't know about that sir, I saw some privates get dragged off earlier, than screaming, I doubt any of us are getting out of here." No rescue coming for us, and no way we can get out of this MacGyver ship. We ain't getting rescued because we're Sub-marines, a recon team made of Earth-siders. Back on earth submarines are little ships under the water, something no one cares about anymore, that's where we got our name. We're all from Earth, but a couple of us are a bit different, halflings from freaky Humans, or modified from previous missions. No choice but to wait for them to take us.

My turn comes not too long after, about 12 Earth hours. They take me to an experimentation room, past some of my soldiers. All of them are alive, but not all of them are there. When they put me on the table to start cutting me, I catch one off guard and kick him. Fuck these little pests. I jump up and start fighting, one of them grabs a blaster and takes aim. Too slow, I grab the front and put it down his throat and force him to pull the trigger. "Standard issue blaster, one of ours huh?" all these fuckers are dead. I start a sweep, and take my time. There's almost no one on this ship. The few Losers I find, I beat half to death. Forget the blaster, it's designed for fast eliminating, and these fuckers need some hard lessons. I leave them all just barely alive, and lock them in the airlock. I find my squad and help the least injured first, though it's still bad. Missing whole limbs and full of some new drugs. Half of them are in shock and the other half are begging for death. I'll have to use the amnestics on our ship if they're still there. If our ship is still there.

I hear banging from the airlock. Fuck them. I help my crew back to our ship, thank God they didn't take it apart yet. I hit them with amnestics and they go down. I use the scan, all the ships from before are gone... wait not gone, on a planet an EO away. I look the planet up on the GMD (Galactic Military databases) and nothing comes up. Unmarked planet with no prior inhabitants. Good. I look up to check munitions on the ship and find just some large solar flare type long distance missiles. Just what those dickheads deserve, Death by fire.

Steady, aim, fire. The planet is about an EMO (earth moon orbit) away. Flash, and a light ignites on the planet. It spreads, slowly getting brighter. Even if they somehow survived, SF missiles also emit large amounts of EMP radiation. Most of their ships are probably down, and probably a good amount of their people too, from the sheer number of mods these rats have. I set the ship to autopilot and guide it back to base, the men are gonna need some prosthetics and probably retirement. They can't keep going like this. They aren't my first crew but I'm gonna make sure they're my last. And I'll make sure these terrorists don't hurt anymore innocents. No more lazing around.