Ord Radama - Way out in the Outer Rim
Take a Nubian J-Type 229, strip out the guts, add a modern Koensayr powerplant, a real beast of one with two cores and an excess of power, modify the engines for extremely low emissions in space, rather than trying to push the speed envelope, but then upgrading maneuver jets for higher performance...so on and so forth. He could catalogue the sleep, dull grey-blue ship's characteristics, because he'd helped tune the thing for the mission, though the other crew told them the thing was yanked into service before all systems were tested or finished. They were finicky and required a lot of love. The ship looked great from the outside and on paper, but he'd stacked access panels in the cargo hold so he didn't have to spend as much time reaching the cables, and he wished he'd had more than one droid.
The trip had been a nightmare. Used the sturdy utility of the X-wing fighter, this thing was a hangar queen kept alive with the constant effort of Eye-5, his astromech droid and his own considerable investment of time. Maintaining the thing kept him alive when the others were ambushed. He heard it on the comms, but could do very little.
So the interior wasn't the sleekly paneled, modern beauty that was intended, but the aesthetic had to give way to maintenance. Right now though, he kept the ship completely dark, the systems shut down, hoping to avoid notice. He hated waiting in the darkness of the ship, listening to his friends die, hating himself for not doing something. He couldn't, from what he could piece together from what he heard on the comms earlier. The Imperials used overwhelming force. He would have tried to use the ship's robust systems to crack Imperial battle code, but he'd have to fire up systems and raise his profile.
He also couldn't leave. The Imperial navy was suddenly in orbit with Carrack-cruiser, likely rigged for anti-starfighter work, and Interdictors. No one got off.
Someone came heavy, and someone came well-prepared.
So he was sitting in the cockpit, listening in on the comms for anything, after the last message, a series of gasps stating the obvious of the trap that the Empire sprung on them with the sound of blasters in the background. Nor Jodama, former Aratech VP of Computing Research and Development, turned rebel and heading up the mission, sent him the last message -- to stand fast, keep the ship there and wait for someone that had the access codes.
It seemed to oppressive to even talk aloud for fear of being overheard in the darkness of the ship, sitting with his hand on his blaster and wondering just what sort of smuggled technology was worth bringing out a galactic-level player in R&D, a huge windfall asset to the Rebellion, out to a mission where he could get ambushed like this. He pulled a team together from the best of the Alliance, including one pilot that didn't want to leave his X-wing squadron or his ship. A number of intelligence guys, hardcase heavy hitters, died in that ambush. Now it was just him.
The light came on the cockpit to indicate that someone was using the access code to open the door. Perhaps they'd have answers...or just more questions...
Take a Nubian J-Type 229, strip out the guts, add a modern Koensayr powerplant, a real beast of one with two cores and an excess of power, modify the engines for extremely low emissions in space, rather than trying to push the speed envelope, but then upgrading maneuver jets for higher performance...so on and so forth. He could catalogue the sleep, dull grey-blue ship's characteristics, because he'd helped tune the thing for the mission, though the other crew told them the thing was yanked into service before all systems were tested or finished. They were finicky and required a lot of love. The ship looked great from the outside and on paper, but he'd stacked access panels in the cargo hold so he didn't have to spend as much time reaching the cables, and he wished he'd had more than one droid.
The trip had been a nightmare. Used the sturdy utility of the X-wing fighter, this thing was a hangar queen kept alive with the constant effort of Eye-5, his astromech droid and his own considerable investment of time. Maintaining the thing kept him alive when the others were ambushed. He heard it on the comms, but could do very little.
So the interior wasn't the sleekly paneled, modern beauty that was intended, but the aesthetic had to give way to maintenance. Right now though, he kept the ship completely dark, the systems shut down, hoping to avoid notice. He hated waiting in the darkness of the ship, listening to his friends die, hating himself for not doing something. He couldn't, from what he could piece together from what he heard on the comms earlier. The Imperials used overwhelming force. He would have tried to use the ship's robust systems to crack Imperial battle code, but he'd have to fire up systems and raise his profile.
He also couldn't leave. The Imperial navy was suddenly in orbit with Carrack-cruiser, likely rigged for anti-starfighter work, and Interdictors. No one got off.
Someone came heavy, and someone came well-prepared.
So he was sitting in the cockpit, listening in on the comms for anything, after the last message, a series of gasps stating the obvious of the trap that the Empire sprung on them with the sound of blasters in the background. Nor Jodama, former Aratech VP of Computing Research and Development, turned rebel and heading up the mission, sent him the last message -- to stand fast, keep the ship there and wait for someone that had the access codes.
It seemed to oppressive to even talk aloud for fear of being overheard in the darkness of the ship, sitting with his hand on his blaster and wondering just what sort of smuggled technology was worth bringing out a galactic-level player in R&D, a huge windfall asset to the Rebellion, out to a mission where he could get ambushed like this. He pulled a team together from the best of the Alliance, including one pilot that didn't want to leave his X-wing squadron or his ship. A number of intelligence guys, hardcase heavy hitters, died in that ambush. Now it was just him.
The light came on the cockpit to indicate that someone was using the access code to open the door. Perhaps they'd have answers...or just more questions...