[ WP ] Tell me the middle of a sci-fi epic . No beginning or introduction to the setting or characters , nor any context to what 's going on , and no resolution of any kind .

`` Attack Bros! Ready Battle Stations! Enemy forces off the Brort-.. Port side!'' The captain's voice registered across the ship's PA system, and Lieutenant Skeeter knew that this was finally his time to shine. Putting on his Ray-Banz, and then his flight helmet, the man stepped out into a busy starship hangar, his collar popped and his swagger hella tight, but it ai n't like I'm gay for him or nothin'. 
 
 Clambering abroard his ship, the B.R.S. Sicknasty, he was greeted with the chatter of his copilot Broid as per usual. Flailing it's golden-plated arms about in a panic as it strapped itself in, it furrowed mechanical eyebrows as he tracked Lieutenant Skeeter and secretly mired his sick war medals and Air Jordans. `` I do hope you're prepared for this, Bro.'' It spoke with a mechanical monotone and engaged supplementary engine routines. 
 
 Lieutenatnt Skeeter activated the primary pulse engine to his ship and launched out into space after a brief run through the checklist. `` I was born for this, Bro.'' He spoke with confidence, as the fighter dashed out into the depths of space to the side of the Brothership. Surprise registered on the bro's face as he realized: There was no enemy here, bro! No alien ships or nothin' man, this was straight bogus, he thought to himself. 
 
 The unmistakable wobble of an FTL arrival proved him wrong. Skeeter's eyes widened in horror, and soon, his tiny ( comparatively ) fighter was now just hundreds of yards away from the bottom of a triangular alien vessel, jet black in coloration. The radio began to loudly broadcast a voice SCREAMING `` SUP, BROS? ``, as a photonic beam emitted from the needle point of the enemy vessel cleaved the Brothership in twain, much to the Lieutenant's horror. 
 
 The Bro-Down had begun. 

