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The original was posted on /r/hfy by /u/Majestic_Teach_6677 on 2025-09-05 18:55:09+00:00.

Corporal Deitrich heard the proximity alarm go off right as she was bringing her triple decker sandwich to her mouth. The sandwich was a perfect creation with thinly sliced sourdough bread separating three distinct layers of yummy goodness. The top and bottom layers were the ideal mix of assorted meats and cheeses, with the center layer filled with lettuce, tomato, banana peppers, and a thick layer of homemade hot pepper relish. She looked at the alert, and then at the sandwich in her hands.

“Why the hell does this always happen at the worst times?” she grumbled as she packed her sandwich back into her storage box and made her way out of the border outpost to her patrol craft. Climbing in, she double checked the alert against her sensors in case this was Raj trying to play another stupid joke. Unfortunately, everything checked out.

A fleet of about 100 ships had just left FTL at the edge of the system and was forming up into a rather unpleasant and aggressive looking formation. Sensors confirmed that each ship was at least light cruiser sized and bristled with weapons. Laser cannons, plasma repeaters, point defense turrets, and a rather obnoxious number of missile tubes. Definitely not a friendly visit.

“Like bringing a knife to a gunfight,” she said with extreme irritation as she powered up the drives on her glorified diplomatic shuttle. Unlike a standard patrol craft that had normal armaments, she only had a simple asteroid busting laser and the weapons bay had been replaced with a conference table from which she was authorized to perform initial first contact protocols, gather information, and then forward it to the appropriate authorities. The only nice thing about the design is they ripped out the crew quarters and replaced it with a dreadnought class shield system, so if any shooting started she would likely have more than enough time to slip away before taking any damage.

She trundled her little patrol craft out towards the incoming armada and opened communications.

“Greetings!” she called out. “I am Corporal Deitrich of the Terran Defense Force. I am authorized on behalf of my government to welcome all visitors and log your requests so they might be addressed by the appropriate authorities. May I inquire about the nature of your visit to Alpha Centauri Prime?”

A few moments later, she received a response.

“I am Captain Ja’narek the Blooded, champion of five glorious campaigns and executioner of 33 enemy vessels,” a deep voice snarled back. “Our Warforged Grand Admiral whose name you are too lowly to know or speak has given me the pitiful task of demanding your surrender. Do so immediately before you become my 34th enemy kill.”

“Please let me be sure I’ve got this right,” the corporal responded. “You wish me to surrender immediately to prevent being killed by one of your mighty ships, and the purpose of your visit to Alpha Centauri Prime is to conquer and dominate us?”

“Do you mock me, you insignificant wretch?” Captain Ja’narek bellowed back. “Do you not see our fleet? Of course you shall all bow before our might and become our slaves!”

“Oh, no no no,” Corporal Dietrich quickly replied. “I am most definitely not mocking you. I take your threat very seriously. Unfortunately, Terran regulations are very clear that I must fully understand the situation before giving a response of any kind. I hesitate to ask any further questions, but can you clarify what will happen if I refuse to surrender? The threat is abundantly clear, but I am duty bound to understand the severity of the consequences should I refuse.”

A split second later, and a blast of plasma burst from one of the ships and obliterated a large nearby asteroid into a fine mist.

“Well, color me impressed,” the corporal responded. “You guys definitely mean business. No empty threats here. Clear, precise, and to the point with an undeniable demonstration of intent.”

“That was just the least powerful of my plasma cannons!” Ja’narek sneered.

“Oh, right. The debris field you just created reminds me,” Corporal Deitrich responded thoughtfully. “On behalf of the Terran government, please allow me to apologize for the floating cloud of space junk your fleet is floating through. We had a little incident the other day and haven’t had a chance to clean up the space lane yet.”

“Such minor garbage is irrelevant to the mighty ships of the Mandorak Empire!” Ja’narek snarled. “Once you have been properly subjugated, we will teach your pitiful race how to keep space lanes clear. And we will discover if your people have a future as anything better than garbage removers!”

“Humanity has a long standing tradition, which I hope you’ll have the patience to indulge us in,” she answered. “The concept is simple. You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine. As you have been gracious enough to demonstrate your mightiness, please allow me to return the favor.”

The corporal simply sat there and waited a moment before there was a bright flash from the darkness of space, and from the flash emerged something travelling at one fifth the speed of light. The projectile slammed into one of the Mandorak vessels, immediately obliterating it.

“What have you done?” a very rattled Ja’narek screamed out in shock.

“Well, I would have thought that would be obvious,” Corporal Deitrich responded with only a hint of sarcasm. “I think this might be a good time to ask. Do you have sensors that track nearby space debris and its composition?”

“Of course we can track small objects in our vicinity, but the composition of such small objects that present no danger is a waste of time and sensor power,” Ja’narek stated with no small amount of confusion.

“Well, just a tip from the Terran military to yours,” the corporal stated as a teacher might to a student who ignored the obvious. “Always pay attention to the composition of a debris field. Sometimes they contain nasty surprises, like Estrada Corporation’s patented Gravametric Mini-Mines.”

Suddenly, significant numbers of small objects within the debris field shot at the ships in the Mandorak fleet and attached to every hull.

“Now here’s what they can do,” Corporal Deitrich said with amusement.

Instantly, a series of small explosions rippled across a Mandorak ship stripping the entire outer structure and leaving the vessel little more than a drifting hulk of expensive space junk.

“Captain Ja’narek, may I please speak directly to the Grand Admiral rather than a lackey like you?” the Corporal said politely but with an appropriately professional amount of smugness.

There was a strangled and offended shriek of outrage over the communicator, which was quickly cut off as a new voice took over.

“This is the Grand Admiral,” a voice of clear authority rang out. “I am listening.”

“Just a question, sir,” Corporal Deitrich responded politely. “Is your government one that will demand your death and that of your family for failure, or are they smart enough to understand they sent you on a fool’s errand where you had no chance of success?”

“I…I… I don’t know,” the Grand Admiral responded.

“Let’s take a quick trip to your home system and find out,” she said while flicking a few switches on her sensor panel to bring up the appropriate readouts. “Judging by your trajectory into the system and your FTL drive technology, we estimate you originated from this system. Would that be accurate?”

“Umm. Yes,” came a rather deflated and defeated reply from the admiral.

“And is this a colony system, or your main planet of origin?” she asked professionally.

“It’s the seat of power under the rule of Supreme Leader…” the Grand Admiral began.

“Thank you! That’s all I needed to know. Please get your ships ready for a return trip immediately and send me a signal when you’re all prepared to enter FTL,” the corporal said after quickly cutting him off. “And remember, all of your ships are covered in mines under my control. Please behave.”

She really wanted to get to her sandwich, and the sooner she got this floating scrap pile into FTL on a return flight the sooner she could take a few minutes to enjoy her lunch. After all, it’s bad form to talk to a Supreme Leader when you’re hangry.

Less than ten minutes later, the Grand Admiral indicated readiness and they entered FTL flight together. With an estimated flight time of a little over 30 minutes, Corporal Deitrich noted that she had just enough time to clock out for her mandated meal break.

She pulled her sandwich out of storage along with the strawberry smoothie that was, in her humble opinion, the perfect accompaniment to a triple decker sandwich. She ate slowly and enjoyed her meal before cleaning up and returning to the cockpit. While she was eating, the Grand Admiral had tried to call no less than 5 times and left panicked messages asking what would happen when they arrived in his home system. Not in the mood to talk directly to him, she typed a quick message and sent it over.

The instructions were simple. Fly into orbit over the main planet and request to speak directly to the Supreme Leader to report. Once connected to the Supreme Leader, tie her into the communications channel and she’d handle things from there.

A few minutes later the entire fleet exited FTL and began to move towards the 5th planet in the system. The planet looked like a golden disco ball and sensors confirmed that the entire surface of the planet had been covered with gold plated panels in a gaudy display of wealth …

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