Gambit Inc. Part VIII

“SomaIII seems to be a sort of Force-well. The currents that run through the Force mix here in what seems to be a unique way. Using the Force for personal things is only marginally more difficult than in the wider galaxy in my experience. Reaching outward in any way, however, such as moving objects or sensing others thoughts, presence, or feelings, is difficult at best for those new to it.”

Tenric leaned forward conspiratorially before continuing.

“You must find the place where the two main currents in the Force meet. There you will find a small calm center, like the eye of a storm. Place yourself in that space and then reach outward towards each current. Allow them to flow through you, use you as a conduit. When you have achieved this the static will abate, for you will have become a living antennae through which the Force can easily flow.”

“Lose that balance and the static will return. SomaIII seems intended by the Force as a place of balance. Stray to far to either side here and you will find yourself in darkness.” Tenric looked away as he finished.

The veiled warning was not lost on Kr-Ant. A Jedi frustrated by the static could easily be tempted to reach out wildly for it. The Dark Side usually claimed such seekers after power. As he met Tenric's gaze once more there was a new note of respect in Kr-Ant's eyes. Something in Tenric's presence rippled as he spoke of the dangers of the darkness. Kr-Ant realized his new friend must have first hand knowledge of the dangers...and had chosen to hold to the light. Here on his home turf Tenric's balanced mastery of the Force made him a formidable Jedi indeed. Out in the wider galaxy, without the need to work through SomaIII's static, Kr-Ant sensed Tenric's control would rival even those who had once sat on the High Council……

…Meanwhile, Orrell had opened up the Z-100’s hatch and was giving Dale and Orlan a thorough tour. “At twenty-two point six meters long, she’s obviously larger than most modern fighters and interceptors. With a standard crew requirement of two, the controls can be set-up for a single pilot. There is also sufficient interior space to allow for up to three more crew stations, depending on the mission requirements. Of course, this would necessitate the removal of the long-term mission crew-support equipment and bunks. There is also an interface docking socket for an astromech droid.”

After they had finished their review of the interior, Orrell moved them outside again, and they began walking around the exterior, first heading aft along the port side.

“My design theory is that by building on a larger frame, I can have more room for power requirements. Obviously a larger ship needs more thrust, if it’s to have any chance at competing or even excelling in combat conditions. As you can see, I chose a multiple engine layout, as opposed to much larger engines. With six separate engines the weight is more than a similar craft would be with say, just two or three huge engines. This is partly to provide back-up systems, and more importantly, these sublight engines are readily available. They only need some minor modifications to tweak their performance in this application.”

“But why this particular engine arrangement?” asked Orlan. “Wouldn’t you rather have the engines inside the main hull, for protection?”

Orrell nodded, “Usually, yes. But here, I have designed the two engine pods with the ability to swivel on the z-axis. This significantly assists the Z-100 in maneuverability. Of course, I have heavily armored these swivel joints. And I mean heavily! Unshielded, they can withstand up to two direct impacts from any standard starfighter-scale warhead, be it missile, or torpedo. There are also additional maneuvering thrusters located at various points along the hull.”

Orrell continued, “Also, if an entire pod is damaged, and the crew is unable to rotate it back to a standard flight position, the pod can be ejected. The remaining pod will still have sufficient thrust to power the ship. Flight specs will then be at no more than sixty percent. Emergency measures can overdrive the remaining engines up to one hundred and twenty-five percent, though not for extended durations, of course.”

Dale and Orlan nodded.

“With this current configuration, between the sublight engines, shields, power core, and energy transfer, the Z-100 can pretty much out-fly and outlast at least eight-five percent of the production starfighters out there right now, both old and new. Anyway, what good is a fast and maneuverable ship without a healthy dose of weaponry, eh?” The engineers laughed at this, each with their fair share of experiences with fighter pilots wanting bigger and/or more weapons.

“A ship this size could normally physically carry more than what I have currently installed, but that would divert power from the engine systems. So, up top, you can see a heavy dual laser cannon turret, with both remote and manual targeting. Between each engine pod and the central fuselage, I have two medium ion cannons and a concussion missile launcher with twelve missiles. And along the center-line on the mid-ventral, I installed a single proton torpedo launcher, with a maximum capacity of twenty torpedoes.”

Dale’s jaw dropped, “That many? Wow, that’s quite a punch this baby has!”

Orrell grinned, then shrugged, “Well, she could, or rather she did. We barely survived our test flight, due to some Imperial interference; hence, our accidental visit here. Our torpedo magazine is completely empty, and the missile launchers only have a couple warheads left in each. But, I’m not looking for weapons. What we really need is our hyperdrive repaired. Unfortunately, it may even be beyond repair.”

Dale and Orlan glanced at each other, and nodded subtly. With a wink to Orrell, Dale commented, “Like we said back at the cantina, I think we can arrange something. But first, can you make orbit, or will you need a lift? Better yet, we’ll haul you up. Soma security is used to seeing our transport in the asteroids, and I don’t think I want to attract too much attention to our little operation just yet. Our base is already set up and operational, though we have yet to actually do any major work for outsiders so far. You’ll be our first.”

“Sounds good. How soon before you want to leave?”

Orlan replied, “How’s about in forty minutes? We need to get some supplies, and file our flight plan with orbital control. We have some friends with the quarantine security, and with no one else ‘impounded’, we can easily land outside the hanger here, and move your fighter into our cargo bay, and be gone without attracting any attention.”

The three engineers chatted for a few more minutes, and then Dale and Orlan departed the hanger to make the necessary arrangements. Tenric too, departed shortly after, to run a few errands of his own, before prepping his own ship for departure.

Exactly thirty-nine minutes later, Orrell’s comlink beeped twice, signaling that Dale and Orlan were landing outside. Kr-Ant opened the hanger’s main door, and Orrell used the hanger’s small transporter to move the prototype fighter outside. By the time the fighter had exited the building, Orlan already had the ship’s cavernous cargo bay opened up, with a large ventral cargo elevator lowered to the tarmac. It was a tight squeeze on the elevator, but they managed to get the Z-100 stowed without incident.

The Second Chance had once been part of the Republic’s diplomatic cruiser fleet, but it had been sold off at the height of the Clone Wars. It’s once distinctive crimson hull had been blasted clean of most paint, exposing the dull grey of its bare hull metal. Before the sale, the interior had also been almost completely gutted; even the modular diplomatic pod and the extensive communications suite and its and array were gone. Since purchasing the aged starship, Dale and Orlan had retrofitted the main three decks into a massive cargo hold. Only the fourth, and topmost, ‘spinal’ deck, had been refit to accommodate a skeleton crew. And with the assistance of a couple astromech droids, the starship was once again space-worthy, though not in such a prestigious role it had once known.

As Second Chance lifted off and made it’s way through the upper atmosphere along the planetary exit traffic lane, a much smaller ship joined formation just off the bow. Glancing out the cockpit window, Kr-Ant nodded imperceptibly, feeling the Force-presence of Tenric. It was rather disconcerting to see the particular craft that Tenric was currently piloting though. The last time Kr-Ant had seen one, a squadron of them had been trying to murder him; an ARC-170 fighter/bomber.

Before Kr-Ant could activate a comm channel, Tenric’s voice could be heard over the cockpit speakers, “I thought this might get your attention. Though most people just look at it as a war relic now; almost a collector’s item!”

Kr-Ant frowned and grunted softly, “Sure.”