#repulsorlift unit

[sw5w]

Vote Now! Vote Now!

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 01:29:11

And here is the most noticeable E.T. cameo. The Senator is named Grebleips (Spielberg backwards) and the name of their planet, Brodo Asogi, comes from the sequel novel to E.T. The Book of the Green Planet. It was based on a story by Steven Spielberg. They were only called "Children of the Green Planet" in the book though, the name Asogian was added into Legends later by Abel G. Peña in his novella SkyeWalkers: A Clone Wars Story.

Other names for E.T.'s planet named in the book were: - Vomestra - Od-Di-Pa 5 - Tum Lux O-ty - Alata Zerka Which all translated to "Green Planet". Personally, I think Brodo Asogi sounds the best, so I'm glad James Luceno chose to go with that when he included them in Cloak of Deception!

[lightasthesun]

Comprehensive Lexicon Guide for First-Time SW Fic Readers:

Flimsi/Flimsiplast = Paper

Flimsiwork/Datawork = Paperwork

Stylus = Pen

Datapad = Tablet

Comlink/Comm = Communication Device/Phone

Binders = Handcuffs

Chronometer = Clock

Spectacles = Eyeglasses

Chrono = Watch

Conservator = Refrigerator

Caf = Coffee

Nerfburger = Hamburger

Blue milk = Milk (literally blue)

Hubba chips = French Fries

Sweet roll = Doughnut

Flatcakes = Pancakes

Tabac = Tobacco

HoloNet = World Wide Web

Holovision/HoloTV = Television

Holodrama/Holovids = Movie/Videos

Holocamera/Holocam = Camera

Holomap = three-dimensional map

Holojournal = Newspaper

Holocube = Picture frame

Holotable = Projector

Holoscanner = X-ray machine

Holojournalist = Reporter

Flatholo/Holograph = Photograph

Sonic Damper = Active Noise Cancellation

Refresher/Fresher= Bathroom

Sonic Bath = Bath

Sanisteam/Sonic shower = Waterless Shower

Hydrospanner = Wrench

Hydro Flask = Water Bottle

Power Cell/Energy Cell = Batteries

Authorization Chip = Decryption key

Datatape = Disk

Datastick = Flash drive

(Personal) Com Code = Phone number

Datachip = SD Card

Synthflesh = Synthetic skin

Glowrod = Flashlight

Sparkstick = Match

Slugthrower = Gun

Slug = Bullet

Vibroblade = a blade that can vibrate at high frequencies, increasing its cutting power and penetrating ability (tactical knife)

Rangefinder = Rifle scope

Turbolaser = Cannon

Ion pike/Vibropike = Spear

Electro Staff = Stun baton

Blaster = Pistol/Rifle

Stun Blaster = similar to a Taser

Landspeeder/Airspeeder/Speeder = Car

Turbolift = Elevator

Slideramp = Escalator

Starfighter = Fighter jet

Rotorcraft = Helicopter

Hoverpack/Jetpack= Jet pack

Speeder Bike = Motorcycle

Skylane = Traffic lane

Railspeeder/Hovertrain = Train

Power Chair/Hoverchair= Wheelchair

Windscreen = Windshield

Podracing = Car racing

Dejarik = Chess

Sabacc = Poker and Blackjack combined

Galactic Rebels = Combat simulator

B'shingh = Dungeons and dragons

Jizz = Jazz music

Wailer = Singer (ie. Jizz Wailer)

Cantina = Bar or Pup

Para Sailing = Paragliding

Aurebesh = Alphabet

Credits = Money

Sleeping Pallet = Bedroll

Naming Day = Birthday

Youngling = Child

Galactic Basic Standard/ Basic = English

Medkit/Medpac = First aid kit

Hypo = Syringe

Medic/Healer = Doctor

Medcenter = Hospital

Bactapatch = Bandaid

Nanoweave = Fabric

Transparisteel = Glass

Plastifoam = Packing material

Durasteel = Steel

Plasteel = Plastic

Duracrete = Concrete

Slicer = Hacker (slicing = hacking)

Identikit = Passport

Minder = Therapist

Synthleather = Vinyl

Viewport = Window

Cooling Unit = Air-conditioning

Honeydarter = Bee

Slythmonger = Drugdealer

Spice = Drugs

Stimpill = Caffeine pill

Power Socket = Plug

Cutters = Scissors

Cycle = Day

Standard Cycle = 24h

Standard Week = 5 days

Standard Month = 35 standard days

Standard Year = approx. ten months

Tenday = literally ten days

Cigarras/Smokes = Cigarettes

Click = Kilometer or 'a moment'

Parsec = a unit of distance

Tweezers/Clanker/tin head/tinnie = Droid

Separatist = Seppie

Promise Ring = Wedding Ring

Body Glove = Jumpsuit

Slicksuit = Wet suit

Civvies = Civilian clothing

Carbonite = a metal alloy used to freeze a person in a state of hibernation

Hyperdrive = device that allows a starship to travel faster than lightspeed

Moisture vaporator = device that can extract water from the air, commonly used on tatooine

Glareshades = Sunglasses

Gasser = Gas Oven

Repulsorlift = technology that can create an anti-gravity field and is used for levitating heavy objects

Heating unit = Heater

Utility Droid = Roomba

Sunbonnet = a Clone trooper helmet

Bad Batcher = a defective Clone Trooper

Banthabrain = birdbrain/ a stupid person

Bantha fodder = waste of space/nonsense

Blast! = word of exclamation

Blasted! = s.o in anger or annoyance

Blaster-brained = dimwitted

Blaster fodder = cannon fodder

Blast off = Piss off

Brainless = Stupid

Bug/Bugger = used to refer to Geonosians

Forceforsaken = godforsaken

Full of Poodoo = full of shit

Poodoo = Shit

Kriff = Fuck

Jedi scum = derogatory term for jedi

Kark = derogatory expletive

Larty = LAAT/i gunship

Laserbrain = insult

Meat droid = derogatory term for Clone Troopers

Redrobes = Palpatines guard

Rookie/Shinie = newly recruited Trooper

Scum = insult to refer to bounty hunters/rebels

Sharpie = Sharp-witted

Sithspawn/Sithspit/Hellspawn! = expletive

Sleemo = Slimeball

Son of a bantha = insult

Wizard! = Cool

Spaced = dead

Hutt-spawn = Bastard

Karabast = exclamation of dismay

Stang = Crap

Buckethead/Bucketbrain = derogatory term for Stormtroopers

Bucket = Helmet

Nat-born = Natural Born

Roger Roger = affirmative/copy that

Droid poppers = EMP grenade

Sitrep = short for situation report

Backwater Planet = any planet that isn't part of the core system

Holocron = device that can project a three-dimensional image of a person/object and is used for communication or entertainment.

Kessel Run = a risky Operation. Commonly used as a metaphor in impossible situations.

Thermal Detonator= device that can create a powerful explosion like a grenade or bomb

Ray Shield/Energy Shield = creates a (protective) barrier

Rebreather = device that allows a person to breathe underwater or in toxic environments

Phrases:

Wild goose chase = wild bantha chase

That's bantha shit = that's bullshit

As slippery as a greased Dug = untrustworthy

Credit for your thoughts = penny for your thoughts

Cut the poodoo = cut the crap

to get your gills in a twist = get upset about something

Holy mother of meteors = holy mother of god

Oh my skies/ Oh my stars = exclamation of surprise

Stars' end! = exclamation of disbelief

What in the blue blazes = exclamation

When Geonosis freezes over/When it snows on tatooine = extremely unlikely

Who pissed in your power supply = who pissed you off

Blast it = damn it

By the maker = exclamation of surprise

Great karking Dragon = expression of disbelief

Lothcat got your tongue = equivalent of 'cat got your tongue?'

Sod it = expression of frustration

[scrapratsoldier]

DATABANK | EMPIRE | TECH | PROBE DROID

"The sinister IMPERIAL PROBE DROID, also known as a Probot, was an exploration and reconnaissance unit deployed by the Galactic Empire. This lightly-armored probe is equipped with six manipulator arms extending from a central pod and several retractable sensor arms for gathering samples. High resolution receivers and sensors cover the central brain core, including motion, acoustic, sonic, and seismic sensors, a radiation meter, magnetic imager, and holocamera. It carries an atmosphere sensor and hovers on a repulsorlift generator capable of maneuvering most terrain. Its primary directive is recon and surveillance of potential threats to the Empire, including insurgents, fugitives, and specialized targets." — Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order Wiki

[stokofsky]

Runners Part 3

It had taken B-111 some time to figure out how to get into the hyperdrive. At first he’d suspected he’d need to use his fusioncutter, the only one of his tools he always carried. But he’d also been certain so crucial a system would need to be accessible to deck crews for maintenance. In the end, K-3NT had gotten impatient with the process and pointed to the access hatch door. B-111 made a mental note that patience would need to be focused on in K-3NTs training. A warrior could not afford to be impatient.

Once the hatch was open, B-111 was quickly able to detach and pull the unit. He had worried that the dimensions would be incompatible with his intentions for the unit, but it appeared that it would snuggly fit where he planned to put it. Good.

“Alright, Enty,” B-111 said, still looking at the trailing connections from the unit, “you’ll be carrying this.” When there was no response B-111 looked up. K-3NT was looking between the blaster rifle and the hyperdrive unit. B-111 sighed when he understood. “Here-” B-111 walked over to K-3NT and detached the mount from his jetpack that the rifle had been hanging on. Ignoring K-3NTs sounds of protest, he clamped the mount to his back. “There!”

“What… what did you just do?”

“You can keep the rifle, Enty, don’t worry. It suits you, and I have lots more blasters where that came from. Now holster it and pick up that hyperdrive.”

“Why do I have to carry it?”

B-111 put a hand to his head momentarily. He looked at K-3NT and crossed his arms. “How many times have you fired a blaster?” There was a long pause. “Do you have any kind of plan for getting off this moon by yourself?” The long pause continued. “That’s what I thought. Now, lessons begin right now. A Warrior shoulders burdens. This… is typically more figurative, I admit, but today it's literal. Pick it up.”

K-3NT continued making sounds of displeasure but hooked the blaster rifle to his back and hoisted the hyperdrive over one shoulder. B-111 felt himself gaining power from those grumbles. He’d heard worse than that from the ranks before. He looked K-3NT over, the stretched proportions, that noxious red finish on the durasteel plating. Far apart from being a wear on the sensors, that color would stand out against most settings, not good for camouflage at all. The Imperial insignias on the pauldrons were a wretched detail B-111 wanted to get sorted as soon as possible, but he was torn. It could come in handy, help blend in. He’d let that one simmer for now.

They left the shuttle and B-111 found the two crates he’d claimed earlier. He pushed them along, going through the narrow path in the trash he’d left when excavating the shuttle. 

“Wait,” K-3NT said behind him, “those have repulsorlift! Why do I have to carry this when you can just push the crates?” B-111 looked over his shoulder at K-3NT. He said nothing, but kept staring. Eventually K-3NT quelled. “Well, fine then, fine. Let the older droids have it easier, that’s what I always say, anyhow.”

K-3NT continued to grumble audibly, B-111 chuckled as he started pushing the crates again. They had a long way to go. Day once again turned to night before they got back to B-111s camp. In the dark B-111 began to spy pinpricks of yellow light, glowing malevolently. He felt the excitement rise. 

“Enty,” he said, quietly, “keep walking, but be ready-”

“What?” K-3NT said, loudly. “Ready for what?”

“Shh! We are being slowly surrounded by some of the locals, unfriendly ones.” B-111 was looking from left to right in the darkness. The yellow pricks of light had multiplied in number.

“Unfriendly? Who? What?”

“They like to tear any working things apart, and I have to assume that includes droids like us. When I give the signal, drop the hyperdrive and draw your blaster.”

“Signal? What signal?” The yellow lights closed in.

“This signal! Now!” B-111 activated his jet pack and leapt into a low hover, three meters off the ground. The yellow lights closed in further and the shadowy shapes around them blurred into bipedal bodies. The lights were eyes in strange faces full of writhing tentacles. B-111 took aim with his wrist blaster, and opened fire.

Whatever species this was, they were familiar with B-111 by now. He’d been having run-ins with them ever since he’d come to this place. He’d thought they’d learned to stay clear of him by now, but perhaps K-3NTs presence had changed things. In any case, he was excited for a fight.

“COOOOOOMBAAAAAT!” B-111 roared lustily, raining blaster fire down their attackers, leaning into a slow circling motion on his jet pack. Sometimes they had blasters of their own, he couldn’t just stay in one place. He honestly hoped this was one of those times. A warrior sought out challenging and worthy opponents. That was the Path.

On the ground, he noticed that K-3NT, though he had put the hyperdrive down and drawn his blaster, as instructed, was skittishly turning this way and that, as if unsure what target to choose first. B-111 shook his head, he had heard the KX series had analysis paralysis issues, but he’d hoped that those were just rumors. 

He landed beside K-3NT, standing back to back. “You’re not blasing!”

“I- I- I don’t know which one to- AH!”

One of the assailants made a lunge at K-3NT. B-111 reached around and blasted them away. “Come on! This is what you were made to do!” But K-3NT continued to turn back and forth without firing. B-111 looked forwards again, dropping several more of the scrap-yard creatures. He dodged an incoming blaster bolt. His excitement that the enemy was armed was not enough to override the worry that K-3NT still hadn’t so much as pulled the trigger on his blaster rifle. Two more blaster bolts came zipping out of the distance. One was handily conducted by his chest armor, the other bounced off his helmet. K-3NT exclaimed, B-111 realized the blaster bolt had deflected into K-3NT. “Zarqq,” B-111 said in quiet frustration.

He turned and saw that the bolt had connected with K-3NTs left shoulder. So much for that imperial insignia. K-3NT had locked up, not even moving. B-111 had to do something. A Warrior looked after his brothers in arms, that was the Path. Even if those brothers in arms were being useless. 

B-111 figured out his course of action in a split second, that was all he had to work with. He tore the lid off the crate of blasters, scooping them out in his arms and hurling them all around him in a circle. As he’d hoped, their assailants were immediately, but temporarily, distracted by the promise of blaster rifles. B-111 chaffed to lose them, but he took comfort knowing these creatures would probably use them against the Imps at the factories… probably. 

Taking advantage of their brief reprieve, B-111 switched the crates antigrav back on and hauled the hyperdrive into it. He turned and tapped K-3NT twice on the chest, hard. “Leave the ammo crate and follow me! Run!”

B-111 leaned into the crate and charged away, listening for K-3NTs loping footfalls behind him to make sure he wasn’t being left behind. They were close now, just over that high ridge and- there it was! Camp.

[sinisterexaggerator]

* when you have to research yaw and pitch controls for a fic *

A yaw motion is a movement of the nose of the aircraft from side to side. The pitch axis is perpendicular to the yaw axis and is parallel to the plane of the wings with its origin at the center of gravity and directed towards the right wing tip. A pitch motion is an up or down movement of the nose of the aircraft.

So up and down / left and right, basically.

Bb goin’ for a ride.

Inspired by this information found in Wookieepedia! 

A pair of tiny ion turbines supplied thrust, and a remarkably intelligent fly-by-wire system controlled the forward-mounted steering vanes. A mid-mounted maneuver control unit kept the bike upright and level. The pilot sat in the rear of the speeder over the repulsorlift engine. The bike had a set of handlebars and rear-set foot pegs with foot-controlled yaw and pitch controls for the pilot to operate. The instrument panel was rudimentary at best, with indicators for heat, boost, coolant, and turbine pressure.

PIRATE SPEEDER BIKE! :D

( Hondo def gave him that shit. )

[forcesung]

“Belt in or hang on!” Jaina shouted. The jubilant tone in her voice came from being able, finally, to escape the restrictions of slow-paced traffic and a ruined operation. Not waiting to see if her teammates complied—they’d been told to belt in the instant they originally took off, after all—she used her repulsors to raise the shuttle’s nose.

The pursuing CorSec vehicle crowded up on her rear a little too fast from a little too close. Jaina heard a clang of impact as the groundspeeder banged into her main drive unit. She fired her accelerators, just enough to splash thruster wash over the hood of the CorSec vehicle, and gave the pilot two seconds to get clear.

Then she put her thrusters and repulsorlift units on full.

The shuttle leapt into the sky.

It didn’t leap as nimbly as the X-wings on the bridge ahead. They stood on their tails and rocketed skyward. By comparison, her shuttle rose like a lazy balloon.

But it was better than being in traffic.

—Legacy of the Force: Betrayal, Aaron Allston

[mortallyclearwonderland]

Star Wars Alien Species - Sakiyan

Sakiya, also known as Saki, was a planet located in the Bootana Hutta region of Hutt Space. It was the tropical and heavily industrialized homeworld of the Sakiyan species.

Sakiyan family structure separated the species into groups known as prides or clans. Each Sakiyan recognized an individual known as a pride-father, and other individuals were known as pride elders.The Sakiyans had highly developed concepts of honor that dictated how to respectfully treat others. Honor came in many varieties, each with its own distinct name and rules. Monthræl was a Sakiyan's personal honor, thought to also control the individual's destiny. Yithræl—pride or clan honor—was held in particularly high esteem. In the case of a clan's reputation being besmirched, the members might go to great length to redeem their collective honor; indeed, piquing a Sakiyan's honor even caused physiological response, such as a racing pulse. Obtaining large amounts of land or wealth was one means to do so. Sakiyan males were expected to provide for their families lest their personal and pride honor be diminished. Sakiyans wed to a mate, while the children were referred to as younglings. Dying with a mark against one's honor was considered the cruelest fate that could befall a member of the species. Sakiyans recognized special expanses called bonepits; seeing an avian scavenger known as a flensor fly over one's bonepit was considered an ill-omen. In Sakiyan religion, the afterlife was known as the Realm Beyond.

Clans were organized into convoluted family–political units. On their homeworld of Saki, also known as Sakiya, these manifested as communities headed by selected leaders. The Sakiyans were a wary people who valued the survival and safety of their own community above those of others. Coupled with a natural territoriality, especially when other hunters encroached on their domain, they were cautious around outsiders—especially non-Sakiyans. Their mantra was "survival demands efficiency." Indeed, each settlement developed a detailed plan to enact in the event that an outside force attacked or attempted a conquest. To that end, communities maintained underground escape routes known as warrens. Lightweight repulsorlift platforms lay in wait to evacuate children, the infirm, and important leaders, as well as to carry away important equipment and supplies in case of such danger. The Sakiyans were no pacifists, though: standing armies responded to invading forces with tactics of harassment and retreat. Most invading forces gave up in the face of such resistance. In a worst-case scenario, a Sakiyan had no compunction about eating other sentients, especially if family survival depended on such a decision. Despite the wide variety of skin tones evident in the species, the Sakiyans ostracized their pale-skinned members as aberrations.

Hunting was highly valued in Sakiyan society. While many Sakiyans practiced hunting on their homeworld, the species considered themselves self-assured predators in a galaxy replete with grass-eaters and only a few other predatory species worthy of Sakiyan respect. They used not only their senses but also cunning, planning, and patience to capture prey; for instance, when hunting for gwayo bird eggs on Saki, the hunter stalked the bird until led to its nest. Sakiyan hunters trained themselves to slow their heart rate and calm themselves; such measures allowed the individual to move with greater speed. Sakiyans also hunted for sport, with the more dangerous the quarry and the more perilous the hunt, the more honorable and satisfying it was to the hunter.

Saki was a planet abuzz with industrial activity, and Sakiyan technology was on par with other spacefaring species. An intelligent and hardy people, they particularly excelled at repulsorlift technology, with particular emphasis on the engineering of components to be lighter and more efficient. For that reason, Sakiyan repulsorlift technology was highly sought after by the Hutts, which led the gastropod species to commission Sakiyan-designed repulsorsleds in ever more dainty and elaborate models. Hutt interests in Sakiyan repulsorlift engineering were so great that the Hutts virtually controlled the market, placing the Sakiyans into an ineluctable financial relationship with their galactic neighbors. A variety of Sakiyan flute made a noise that members of the species found pleasant; the sound resembled a member of the Ghostling species sighing.

Sakiyans are hairless, and their skin color ranges from jet-black to deep purple and crimson. A pale-skinned subspecies also exists, but Sakiyan society normally treats them as outcasts. They have large craniums and pupils that contract into slits instead of points. Adults stand between 1.6 and 2.1 meters or 5.2 and 6.9 feet tall and weighs 65 kilograms or 143 pounds. The species' musculature granted them 150 percent of the strength of a Human of equivalent size.

Sakiyan age at the following stages:

1 - 10 Child

11 - 15 Young Adult

16 - 48 Adult

49 - 74 Middle Age

75 - 84 Old

Examples of Names: Ejaf Ya-Drun, Johr Penyk, Djas Puhr, Kol Rzad, Tudan Sal, Moja Skunax, Vihn Thas.

Languages: Sakiyans possess their own language, Sakiyan, and many learn to speak Basic or Huttese as well.

[i-am-all-the-jedi]

Moved from here | @sonofonderon

Just as the sand on the horizon blended seamlessly, inconsequentially with the amber of the sky, the days blended into weeks, months, years. Three, and Rey no longer scratched the passing of each planetary cycle into the wall by her bed, letting the blur of passing time lull her into some semblance of contentment, reveling in the fact that she no longer counted, no longer watched, no longer waited. She couldn’t have said the precise amount of time if someone had asked her, and there was a kind of freedom in that, but after so long, her habits becoming rote, her routine becoming dull when there were no more malfunctions in the vaporator’s programming, when there was no further pages in her precious books to cover and no data entries left unexplored in the relics she discovered one day behind the loose brick of a room belonging once to a young Skywalker and Darklighter, she found herself wandering the wastes. Mapping terrain that had never been mapped, venturing further and further into the unknown in search of something even she couldn’t say.

A foray into the wilderness beyond the Station yielded nothing but silence, and further than that, deafening quietude that had Rey returning via swoop bike and flinging herself upon the bed in search of some kind of noise, even if were only the hum of the treadwell above her making its belated rounds. Calculating roughly based only upon the fact she’d been forced to shear her hair exactly three times in order to keep it in a rough semblance of the length she’d formerly kept it told the scavenger it had been three standard years since she’d come to the farm, since she’d sworn herself to a life of solitude. The comms were quiet in the kitchen, the device enabled, but receiving no transmissions. Finn, she knew, Poe, the others, they were living lives now, loving, working, having families, but when she looked into the future beyond the shattering of the dyad she’d once shared, Rey saw nothing but a blank. And a blank was easier to transliterate onto the desert wastes of her past than attempting to cram herself into a coupling that she could neither imagine nor navigate alone.

Alone. That was perhaps the operative word in each of her resolutions now, and that night lying in bed she chased sleep for the first time in months, fighting the stirring of words she didn’t want in her mind, an echo of something familiar and yet foreign. The force spoke to her still, that much she knew, but it was a gentle quiet, a magnetic urging that rarely took her beyond comfort, that never conflicted with her own inner desire and did not challenge a single iteration of her current life. This was different. And on the backs of aching eyelids she saw a crumbling edifice, flashes of foreign rock and sunken craters, and a stirring of something in her chest that had her rising, pressing her eyes shut to further bring the place into focus. A deep crypt with high sloped walls, carven figures guarding a sunken doorway, and then, in a singeing flash, a figure all of darkness and a heavy helm, someone she knew. A Knight of Ren, one she’d seen on Exegol, one who had fallen unmoving to the gravel and she’d thought no more of. He stood, fleeting in her mind’s eye, and only then did she tear herself from the vision. “I’ve finished with these things,” she breathed, into the deep blue shadow. “If you haven’t, that is not my concern.”

______________________________

Rey ought not to have been surprised when the voice in her own mind didn’t reply, at least not directly, but as the twin suns rose and she still hadn’t managed to eke out more than a few moments of rest, the flash of the images behind her gaze, the warmth of a blazing sun that were not Tatooine’s, she pressed her eyes shut and rose with a renewed purpose. It was out there, whatever it was calling to her, stirring that deep place inside that she’d laid to rest along with the sabers of the Skywalkers, or so she thought, tamped down and buried beneath layers of memory she’d much rather pull forward, of mundane life, of solitude, and forgetfulness. But she wasn’t fated to forget.

The x-wing wasn’t difficult to access, having billeted it in a hangar forgotten for decades, it seemed, and giving the proprietor a meagre few credits for his quiet and his cooperation, and Rey had given it one parting look that day, thinking to never again go off-world, never need it. It wasn’t until the oculus above the hangar opened, flooding the unit with light and glancing off the S-foils with their rotary actuators that she felt the tightness in her chest come, and the yearning for the stars. Three years had already been too long. She overrided the navicom’s requests once, then twice, before bringing the repulsorlifts on line and feeling the heady sensation of taking to the skies again at last, and closed her eyes, reaching out through the force for her heading, for that voice she had heard, the echo and response of what seemed like a thousand wordless voices. Perhaps it was dark and perhaps she should have known that such things didn’t come from the path of the light, but she followed it nevertheless, fueled by the hunger for something, anything to break the monotony and crippling loneliness that had seeped into her every pore.

She didn’t recognize the configuration of the foreign system until it appeared on her radars and the memory of a page in her precious relics came rushing back: the Stygian Caldera, the swirling nebulosity that guarded the world of the Sith, and the pull led her stronger and stronger past the Kamat Krote, and through the debris belts of the red Horuset sun. It was unmistakable, the valleys and edifices from her vision, and it wasn’t until she entered the atmosphere of the planet itself that she realized the radars of the old x-wing weren’t as faulty as she’d assumed. Other ships shared her same airspace, Destroyers and starfighters, TIEs and Xyston-class flagships from a manufacture even Rey didn’t recognize, angling her shields and dropping to the planet’s surface as quickly as possible to avoid the detection of whatever entity had amassed this motley force.

Words came to her on the hot wind, words she could not make out as the assembly seemed to disband, her eyes fixed on the entry that lingered in her mind even when she closed her eyes, guarded by two giant figures, the slanting edifice cast in shadow of the great sun’s setting, craters marking the ground and an eery wind beginning to rise as she lifted the canopy and walked toward the place, saber at the ready. Walking in the open, Rey fought the whelm of exposure that crawled down her spine, and clung to the modicum of relief that came with her entry to the ancient mausoleum, feeling the pull intensify, the swell within her mind pulse, strong, and compelling. In the pitch black, she lit her saber, hearing the hum of the ignition, guided by its light, and only then did she realize she stood at the base of a massive crypt, and above it, a shadowed figure which seemed to be of stone.

“Who is here,” she spoke at last, her voice echoing through the darkness and reverberating within her own skull, a wince coming then, through gritted teeth. “I can feel you in my mind from systems away. Show yourself.”

[captainmazzic]

In Which There Is A Bit Of A Side Story Involving Jedi Master Heilon, And How He Came To Be At The Tribunal.

(This is the start of a short story detailing how Burdock Heilon came to meet Darth Aranea and a few other Sith, and culminated in him being invited by Aranea to observe the Enclave of the Sith Tribunal. I’m trying not to make it very long, probably only like two or three chapters, but I’m going to write it out in its entirety before posting it on AO3. Here’s the first few bits, because I was entertained and wanted to share).

“The other name was Cinaede?”

The agent nodded. “That is what Master Braga said. The Sith that was holding Master Ikalruq hostage mentioned a Darth Gallus and Darth Cinaede for exchange. When pressed for a single trade, he selected Darth Gallus.” She scrolled through her datapad, scanning for the relevant information. “Darth Gallus is apparently a Rodian Sith that Argent Legion picked up a few months back, Unit Jenth I think. He’s young, mouthy, and stupid, according to his interrogators. Nothing special. Stars know why this... Darth Belus... Sith picked him to return over the other.” She tapped the edge of her datapad. “But it looks like this Darth Cinaede is the same as the Cinaedus that Unit Peth picked up ages ago. Sith Assassin. Only got caught on the job because their target was in a house that caught on fire due to an entirely unrelated arson. Getting them in was ugly, if the report was anything to go by. They kept… ‘shifting around’, report says. They’re some kind of morphing amphibian. Eliminated Unit Osk single-handedly, and half of Unit Peth, before Peth managed to bring them down. I’m surprised they brought them in alive.”

Jedi Master Burdock Heilon leaned back in his chair and motioned for the datapad. “That is the purpose of these acquisitions, Agent Basrel. And one of Argent Legion’s major directives. To collect Sith alive for purging and interrogation.”

“I understand that, sir.” She shrugged as she handed him the datapad. “But if it had been my unit, I would have deemed them too dangerous to hold. Alive, that is. According to our sources, they’re one of the Sith’s best infiltrators and assassins.”

Heilon nodded as he inspected the screen. “We’ve had them in custody for…. How long now?”

“Eighteen Coruscanti months.”

“Have they cracked?”

“Not unless you mean jokes. Hasn’t given even a millimeter to our interrogators. Suggests tea parties and interior décor options instead. They’ve been driving our team mad.”

Heilon snorted and tossed the datapad onto his desk. “I think it’s time we started playing hardball with this one. There has to be a reason this Darth Belus wanted this particular assassin released. We’ll never know why he wanted Gallus, what’s done is done, but perhaps we can figure out why Cinaede is so important. Cinaedus. Whatever.” He slid his chair back and got to his feet, brushing imaginary lint off of his uniform. “Have the assassin transferred to Coruscant immediately, Agent Basrel. I will take over their interrogation personally.”

“Yes, sir.”

* * * * * * * *

The high security transport ship hissed and beeped as its landing thrusters aligned with the docking pad, deep inside the massive spike of a prison tower that functioned as a receiving area for high-risk prisoners. Burdock Heilon stood beside Agent Basrel with his hands clasped behind his back, patiently waiting for the two dozen guards to disembark with their dangerous cargo centered among them. Darth Cinaedus was bound hand and foot within a stasis field upon a repulsorlift, eyes blindfolded, mouth gagged, and ears plugged. Four guards stood at each corner of the lift with blasters trained perpetually on the immobile figure as the others guided the lift down the massive hall that led to the depths of the prison.

Heilon fell into step behind the elaborate escort, and raised an eyebrow down at Agent Basrel. “This Cinaedus is… er…”

She smirked. “Tiny little thing, eh?”

“Certainly not what I expected.”

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow. “Didn’t you study the files?”

He shrugged. “I read them, yes. End to end. Several times. But once you’ve seen one Sith, you’ve seen them all. Species doesn’t matter much once they are tainted by the Dark Side. I didn’t bother looking at their picture.”

Agent Basrel pursed her lips. “Oh, well then. You’re in for a few surprises then, I guess. I have some red tape to wrap up about finalizing the transfer, so I’ll check in later. Enjoy meeting your new Sith, Master Heilon. This one is… this one’s an interesting one.” She steepled her fingers to her chest before veering to the side and down a hall branching off of the main walkway.

Heilon shook his head at her retreating form and chuckled to himself. “Just one Sith. How interesting can they be?”

* * * * * * * *

The interrogation room was like any other. No windows and black floors, ceiling, and walls, with garish lighting and an ambient temperature just a few degrees too cool for whatever species it was trying to currently contain. A single bench in the same matte black ran the length of the back wall, just a little too narrow for an average-sized humanoid to be comfortable. On that bench the guards had placed Darth Cinaede – or Cinaedus, honestly Master Heilon still had no idea which one was the typo and which one was the actual name – and now those guards had just removed the blindfold, ear plugs, and gag. They took a step back to give Heilon some room, and he pulled up a rolling chair he had swiped from the receiving desk outside. “Greetings, Sith. I am Jedi Master Burdock Heilon. I will be functioning as your new interrogator.”

The strange amphibious Sith sitting before him flicked narrowed eyes up and down his form before breaking out into a wide smile. A gravely voice echoed his name in peppy tones. “Good morning, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon.”

Heilon smirked. “And how would you know whether it is morning or not? You have had no shred of contact with the outside world for the entire length of time you have been in custody.”

The narrowed eyes widened slowly to take up nearly half of the Sith’s face. “Oh, it’s always morning here on the Republic’s sunny and glorious capital world, the crown jewel of the galaxy, the beautiful and illustrious Coruscant. The suns never set on the grandeur of the Republic, after all.” Their voice rose into a higher, musical chirp. “Pleasure to meet you, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon, member of the Jedi Council, patron of Argent Legion. I’m Darth Cinaede. I suppose I have you to thank for having your division kidnap me in the first place.”

Heilon scoffed. “You were hardly kidnapped. You were apprehended on a botched assassination attempt, and have remained our prisoner ever since.”

“Successful.”

“What?”

Cinaede shrugged. “A successful assassination attempt. I killed my target, thank you very much. It was Senator Garrumn’s house catching on fire that was the botched attempt. I guess her constituents weren’t too happy with her either, if they were willing to resort to arson. I thought Jedi weren’t supposed to play politics, anyway. Why was a Jedi playing senator in the first place?”

A swift flick of Heilon’s hand and Cinaede flinched as though hit. He scowled and leaned forward in his chair. “That is enough out of you. I am your interrogator, not the other way around.”

He only received a lopsided grin in return. “Whatever you say, Jedi Master Burdock Heilon. You know, that’s really long. I’m gonna have to give you a nickname.”

Heilon ignored their jaunty words. “You say your name is Cinaede?” He waved over one of the guards. “Make sure we correct that in the records. There is an error regarding the name of this Sith.”

Cinaede’s head tilted to one side. “You got my name wrong? Seriously?”

Heilon again made a flick with his hand and clapped Cinaede’s mouth shut with the Force. “You appear as both Cinaede and Cinaedus in our records.”

“Mm-hmph.”

Heilon sighed and released his hold in the Force on their jaw. “What?”

“I said, that’s right.”

“…What?”

An enormous eye roll. “Cinaede is my name.” Those eyes suddenly narrowed as Cinaede’s jaw thickened and squared, and once again a gravely voice reached Heilon’s ears. “So is Cinaedus. They’re both me.”

Heilon blinked. “…Ah.” He turned to the guard and raised a finger as if to correct what he had just told her, but turned back to his prisoner instead. “Are you…”

Cin’s head tilted to the other side this time. “Seriously? Pixies of Patitite Pattuna, did I seriously get stuck with the one Jedi in the entire galaxy who’s never met an id-shifter?”

Heilon shook his head rapidly. “Of course I have, I just – ” he pinched the bridge of his nose and took in a slow breath. “Alright. So you’re an id-shifter. And obviously of one of the few species that is actually able to physically morph as well.”

“I’m lucky like that.” Cin’s bright smile returned. “And depending on which records you’re looking at, my species is called Lowen or Shaull. Look us up sometime. That’s about all the info you’ve got floating around on us. Homeworld’s labeled wrong too. Guess mucking up names runs in the fam.” They leaned back against the stark wall behind them. “I’ll make it easy on you, though, at least regarding me. You’ll know when I’m Cinaede and when I’m Cinaedus. I’m usually Cinaede, but I’m really not picky about pronouns. You can call me Cin for short regardless, it’s much easier that way. Just don’t call me Cinny. Classmates tried that when I was a wee acolyte. Didn’t work out for them. Pity, I was the only one who survived graduation that year.”

Heilon nodded as he pinched the skin between his eyes harder. “…Right.”

Cin’s smile turned into a shit-eating grin. “I am going to make your life so, so much harder, HeiHei. Can I call you HeiHei? Thanks. This is the blossoming of a beautiful friendship, HeiHei, I can tell.”

Heilon’s only response was an already-weary glance up at the guard, who he swore was trying very hard not to laugh behind her helmet.

* * * * * * * *

[archeo-starwars]

Star Wars: The Essential Guide to Warfare Author’s Cut, Part 7 — The Grand Army of the Republic (III)

THE ASSEMBLY LINE

Jason Fry: This one was really an homage to the Medstar duology by Michael Reaves and Steve Perry, of which I’m a big fan. It hurt to cut it, but the focus had to stay on the battlefield. I’m glad to see it appear here.

Erich Schoeneweiss: As with the two cut pieces above, this would have posed a real dilemma for me while editing. When facing the need to cut text because the manuscript is too long, some of the questions you might ask yourself are: Is this piece worthy of staying in the manuscript? Does it add essential information? Is that information interesting to both casual readers and hardcore fans? Does it cover new ground or is it repeating information the author already presented? Is it relevant to the book’s subject? The chapter’s subject? Jason made the choice to cut all three of the three pieces you read today before submitting the manuscript to me, which proved lucky on my part as I might still be contemplating their fate. And even luckier for all of us, you get to read them now.

For a Republic soldier seriously wounded on the battlefield, the race was on: Could he or she be stabilized, evacuated and treated in time?

For clone troopers, the initial alert was often broadcast by the trooper himself — or, rather, by vital-signs monitors in his helmet. In other cases, a fellow soldier might call in the injured soldier’s location, automatically appending a geolocation tag to the report.

Many Republic units went into battle accompanied by medical droids, with Cybot Galactica’s IM series emerging as the standard battlefield models. IM-series droids swooped back and forth across the battlefields on their repulsorlifts, dodging enemy fire, stabilizing wounded soldiers and dragging them to safety while speaking in a calm, soothing voice. IM droids’ effectiveness, coupled with soldiers’ natural bent toward superstition, led many Republic units to consider the droids members of their units, painting them in regimental colors and tapping their bodies for luck before deployment.

Another battlefield medical droid, Medtech Industries’ FX-6, was treated less reverently: The FX-6’s plasteel armor shell allowed it to work in combat settings, but its programming was to save lives as quickly as possible and by any means necessary, without communicating with patients or considering their suffering.

After initial treatment by a medical droid, a wounded soldier would be whisked away from the battlefield by a medical speeder or a medlifter troop transport, with a number of different models seeing service. Aboard the medlifter, a medical droid or organic medic would determine the severity of the soldier’s injuries and the likelihood of survival, prepping him or her for intake at a Republic Mobile Surgical Unit, or RMSU.

RMSUs — invariably referred to as rimsoos — were small field hospitals for treating battlefield casualties. There, organic surgeons and medical droids worked together – often under frantic conditions – to save soldiers’ lives, a daily and even hourly task that overworked surgeons grimly called “the assembly line.” Droids or medical aides would strip incoming critical cases of armor and equipment and deliver them to the operating table. There, surgeons and a variety of medical droids — 2-1Bs, MD-series droids, FX-series units and DD-13 “chopper” droids — would deploy instruments and technologies in an effort to save the wounded. Handheld bio scanners diagnosed injuries, antisepsis fields prevented infection, laser scalpels opened up damaged bodies, glue stats closed them up again, and pressor fields kept damaged arteries closed. Replacement organs and body parts, either made of cloned tissue or taken from dead clones, were close at hand in nutrient tanks. (The surgical ward where dead clones “donated” usable organs for the tanks had the macabre nickname of the discard pile.)

After surgery, soldiers would be taken to a recovery ward or, for more severe cases, a bacta tank. Those who needed more than a few days to recover were transferred to a MedStar– or Pelta-class medical frigate, and often brought to one of the Republic medical stations. Aboard these spoked space stations, medics cared for tens of thousands of soldiers at a time, working diligently to repair bodies and minds so units could return to the battlefield.

The status of medical facilities and hospital ships was one of the biggest flashpoints of the Clone Wars. The Republic’s MedStars originally lacked not only weapons but also basic defensive capabilities, but some Separatist commanders — most notably General Grievous — deliberately targeted MedStars, RMSUs and medical stations, giving no quarter to the wounded or those trying to save lives. Such strikes served to stiffen Republic resolve that soldiers, not negotiators, would be the ones to end the war.

(source)

[countessofbiscuit]

Heavy Artillery (Mobile & Otherwise) of the GAR

Inspired by a conversation with @tiender​ about the structure (and canonical lack thereof) of the Grand Army of the Republic, I decided to investigate the armament and crew requirements of Republic heavy artillery in order to further our discussion of potential battery sizes. Hopefully this will help influence a decision to headcanon a “Republic Artillery Corps” or just continue under the assumption that artillery is somehow subsumed within units in the GAR and supplied/supported by the Republic Defence Procurement Office and the Special Weapons Group. 

All of the following are either seen in The Clone Wars or the films. 

Republic Artillery Gun (AV-7 Antivehicle Cannon) “Heavy Cannon” Repulsorlift with 4 feet for support

Uses: anti-vehicle artillery Armament: plasma shells Crew = 1 (heavy gunner, seated)

AT-RT (All-Terrain Recon Transport) “Scout Walker”  2 legs

Uses: Recon, front-line anti-infantry, policing, civil defence Armament: (1) chin-mounted laser cannon (1) mortar launcher Crew = 1 (ARF Trooper)

 AT-AP (All-Terrain Attack Pod) “Pod Attack Walker” or “PAW” 3 legs (*third leg not always descended, but necessary on tricky terrain and to stabilize when firing heavy-projectile launcher

Uses: counter-battery fire, mobile gun platform Armament: (1) heavy projectile launcher (1) heavy blaster cannon (1) medium laser cannon Crew = 3 (1 driver, 2 gunners)

  AT-TE (All-Terrain Tactical Enforcer) “Tank” 6 legs

Uses: mechanized infantry, troop transport Armament: (6) anti-personal laser cannon turrets (1) mass-driver cannon Crew = 6 (1 driver, 1 spotter, 5 gunners)  Cargo: (20) troops (1) IM-6 battlefield med droid (2) AT-RTs

 AT-OT* (All-Terrain Open Transport) “Cargo Walker” 8 legs

Uses: troop transport, irregular cargo transport Armament: (2) medium laser cannons (2) anti-personnel laser cannons Crew = 1 (driver) Cargo: (34) troops, seated + (25) troops, standing *technically not for use in combat and possibly the most pointless vehicle in the GAR

 UT-AT (Unstable Terrain Artillery Transport) “Trident” Repulsorlift

Uses: mechanized infantry, self-propelled artillery, combat service support (e.g. combat engineers) Armament: (1) artillery turbolaser turret (2) medium laser cannons (4) anti-infantry laser turrets Crew = 6 (1 driver, 5 gunners) Cargo: (20) troops

 SPHA (Self-Propelled Heavy Artillery) No canonical nickname ... so “Fats” :P 12 legs

Uses: self-propelled artillery Armament: (1) main weapon (either turbolaser, ion cannon, anti-vehicle laser, concussion missile launcher, or mass-driver cannon, depending on configuration; i.e. SPHA-T, SPHA-I, SPHA-V, SPHA-C, SPHA-M) (12) anti-personnel blasters Crew = 25 (15 primary crew, 10 gunners, to man the blasters, but not all configurations allowed for this) (skeleton crew of 12) Cargo: (30) troops Note: Too large for LAAT/c’s.

 Stun Cannon Tank (RX-200 Falchion Class Assault Tank) Repulsorlift

Uses: artillery, anti-aircraft, subduing Zillo beasts   Armament: (1) stun cannon (2) anti-personnel lasers Crew = 2 (1 driver, 1 gunner)

 A6 Juggernaut (HAVw A6 Juggernaut) “Turbo Tank” or “Juggernaut” 10 Wheels

Uses: troop transport Armament: (1) heavy laser cannon (1) rapid repeating laser cannon (2) medium anti-personnel laser cannons (2) twin blaster cannons (2) rocket/grenade launchers Crew = 20 (12 drivers, 8 gunners) Cargo: 50-300 troops + speeders, depending on internal configuration, 20-days’ worth of provisions

[sw5w]

Typho Rushes to the Wreckage

STAR WARS EPISODE II: Attack of the Clones 00:03:37

[the-cowgirl-bookworm]

Drunken Road Trips and Family Bonding

Chapter 5

Please Tell Us Why You Had to Hide Away For So Long

When Peter had shaken Yondu's shoulder early the next morning, saying he was going into town to pick up supplies, Yondu had sent him off with two rules before rolling over and going back to sleep. "Don't buy anything, yer still a Ravager idjit. And bring back some of what ever you Terrans got for booze, if yer gonna get soft again like last night I ain't goin' through it sober." Quill had rolled his eyes, pulling his Ravager coat over his shirt. It stood up to the elements, kept him warm, and had about fifty different pockets for stashing illegally obtained materials. Of course, not everything could fit in pockets, so he grabbed a collapsible repulsorlift and a Ravager tarp, modded to able to put up a decent camouflage.

While you couldn't count on Ravagers to have things like food or water on all their ships, they always had stealing supplies.

It was a ten mile trek to town, but it went quicker thanks to a few rocket boosted jumps. He stashed the lift at the edge of town, throwing the tarp over it, the camouflage activating as soon as it settled. The first thing Peter did was find a vending machine outside a gas station and shake loose a Coke. Even after twenty years, it still tasted the same. He tossed the can aside, jacked a full can, and set off farther into town. Ridgeton had always hovered between small town and small city, mom and pop stores right next to large sporting goods dealers. Peter approached one of those large sporting goods stores, the window displays stuffed full of hunting trophies.

It took him five seconds to jimmy the lock, then two to activate the jammer in his pocket. It would block any signals going out to security companies and render any security footage to mere static. Peter grabbed a cart, pulled out his earbuds, and set his Zune to play. He smiled, remembering how Yondu had shoved it into his hands before Stakar had come over to their ship, ready to welcome Yondu back after hearing about what he had done. Yondu had pressed the device into his hands, earbuds tangled around his fingers. "Saw ya lost yer Walkman. Found this at a junker's, she said everyone on Terra was usin' it." He'd hit the center button, the display lighting up. "We had a copy of yer music in the data banks, I transferred it for ya."

Peter had grasped it like a lifeline. "Well, not all of it. Ego smashed the second tape."

Yondu had snorted, shaking his head. "If you think we didn't scan and log every single thing in that little pack a yers," He just shook his head again. "It's all on there, plus about three hundred other songs."

Three hundred songs had left him speechless, as well as the fact that Yondu had actually done something kind for him without threatening to space him or eat him, when Stakar had grasped Yondu by the shoulders, making some proclamation about how Yondu had proven himself a true Ravager in the end, and if anyone wanted to dispute that, well, Stakar was one of the fastest draws in the galaxy and they were more than welcome to try.

Peter danced through the store, Mr. Blue Sky blasting in his ear drums, dragging a cart behind him. He threw in whatever he could find, high dollar fishing poles, hooks, line, enough camping supplies to last them a month. He made sure to grab two cans of bait, knowing Yondu might just eat a can of worms just because he was tired of fish. He even did his best to pick up gifts for everyone. For Drax, two massive serrated hunting knives. Gamora, a leather archery guard she could use to keep her sword hand from bleeding after getting blisters. As much as he wanted to, Rocket would probably not appreciate the stuffed raccoon, so he grabbed the little guy a collection of gun parts and candy. Turned out the raccoon had a sweet tooth, which they discovered after he had eaten every piece of Xandarian sugar puffs on the ship. Drax had almost strangled Rocket for that, stopped only by Gamora wanting to do it herself. He picked up a variety of animal plushes for Mantis, because God knows Ego hadn't given that girl enough things to hug in her life. Yondu was getting an absolutely adorable bobblehead of a mountain lion. Kraglin was getting a knife, the antler carved with a cool design. For Groot, a collection of these new fangled things called CD's that apparently held music. He thought Groot would really like one in particular, some band called Mouse Rat that sounded pretty good when he put it in a boom box.

For Nebula, well, he just picked her up some magazines. He didn't even really look at them as he dumped them in the cart. That was all the fishing stuff, but he would need more than that. He wanted enough Cokes to last him a life time, and enough ice cream that he could eat himself sick. Plus, what kind of camping didn't have s'mores? So before he pushed his ill gotten gains out of the shop, he opened the safe, which for someone used to cracking Kree lockboxes, was nothing. He pocketed the cash, then pushed his cart back to the repulsorlift. The futuristic wagon was pretty full, but he figured he could fit more in.

But the grocery stores wouldn't be open for hours, so Peter left everything under the tarp and made his way back into town. He figured he'd find someplace to hang until the stores opened up. He was figuring a stoop or a park, but then he saw something called an Internet cafe. There were already a few people headed in, sleepy eyed and groggy. He walked in, and the smell of coffee overcame him. Turns out you could get coffee pretty much anywhere nowadays, if the people in front of him were to be believed, but apparently this place was pretty good. He ordered a large, with enough creamer in it to make it more like a hot chocolate than a coffee. He listened in to a couple of guys as he waited for his coffee.

"I'm telling you, I saw a UFO last night. Came blasting down over my trailer, then set down in the forest somewhere."

"Jerry you got into your moonshine again, and we all know it. You were going on about chemtrails the last time, and you smelled like a damn still."

"Greg, I swear to God I wasn't drunk last night."

Chuckling and sipping his coffee, Peter made his way over to the row of computers set up against the wall. They were pretty primitive, no holograms but an actual glass display. He hadn't seen that since they landed on some planet that had yet to make contact with the Xandarians. Fortunately this Internet thing wasn't as hard to navigate as the Kree cyber service, which he'd have to have Kraglin crack for him once when Peter had his bounty tripled in Kree space after an incident with a Kree general's daughter that the general had blown completely out of proportion. Hell, the thing on this computer even opened up to something called a search engine. Of course, Peter being the smug self-absorbed asshole (Gamora's words, not his) that he was, he immediately searched his own name.

There were only a few results, but one caught Peter's eye, something from a cold case website. He clicked on it and started to read.

Twenty-five Years and Still Holding Out Hope

May 15th, 1988, was the worst day in Robert Quill's life. That night, his daughter Meredith passed away from an inoperable brain tumor and her son, Peter Jason Quill, disappeared. Robert contacted the police, but despite their efforts, they could not locate Peter. Now, twenty five years later, Robert has still not given up hope that Peter is out there somewhere. He invited our reporter to visit him, and we found his house filled with pictures of his children and grandchildren.

He keeps a picture of Meredith and Peter separate, set atop the mantle. It shows a beautiful brunette with an arm around a smiling five year old. Robert spoke briefly about his daughter, "She was always so loving. She loved that boy, even if his father didn't stick around. And he was a bit of a troublemaker, but he was a good boy."

Robert has searched for Peter ever since that day in 1988. He still hasn't given up hope. We have included a digitally aged picture of Peter Quill at the end of this article. We ask that our readers look for anyone matching this picture, and contact the tip line that Robert Quill has open.

There was a phone number listed at the bottom of the page, and Quill couldn't help but chuckle at the picture of "him". It looked nothing like him, rather chubby actually. But there was another picture farther up in the little article. His grandpa, standing by his fireplace and looking at the picture of Peter and his mom. Peter pursed his lips, then reached into his pocket, jotting down the phone number on his hand. There was nothing wrong with calling his Gramps and telling him he was still alive. He'd find a payphone after he got groceries, before he made his way back to their campsite.

He hung around the cafe for a bit, before heading out and finding himself in the midst of paradise. There was some new store here called Wal-Mart that was absolute heaven. Quill piled his cart there high with everything he could think of, spices, sweets, ice cream, marshmallows, a gross of Coke and twenty boxes of macaroni and cheese. He also found that movies were apparently on the same type of disc as music now. He grabbed everything he could recognize, Star Wars, the Princess Bride, Indiana Jones, and thinking of Yondu, a copy of Mary Poppins. It took most of the money he'd stolen, but he felt pretty good as he walked out of the store. There had to be some kind of tech on the ship that could read those weird discs, and he could finally show everyone what he had grown up with. But it turned out that finding food was easier than finding a payphone nowadays. Everyone seemed to have these somewhat bulky handheld comm units now, and when he'd asked a lady for a nearby payphone she had looked at him like he was crazy.

"Don't you have a cellphone?" She asked, already hurrying away.

Peter snorted. Did it look like he was carrying around a giant briefcase? It took him a little while to find someone who mentioned that there was an old payphone at the library. He pulled his cart in with him, dug out a couple quarters, and dialed the smudged number on his hand. It rang three times before going to a message machine, his grandfather speaking. "Hello, if you have any information relating to the disappearance of Peter Quill on May 15th, 1988, please leave your name, number and your information and we will get back to you."

There was a beep, Peter took a deep breath, and spoke. "Hi Gramps, it's me. Peter. Sorry I haven't called. Listen, I'm in Ridgeton, out at the lake you and me and mom would go to. I don't know how long I'll be here, a week, maybe? Anyway, I'm calling on a payphone, so I guess if you want, you can just come find me at the lake. So, um, bye." He hung up the phone, turning back to his cart. Even if his grandpa didn't come out, at least he'd know he was alive.

After he had made it back to his stash, he dumped everything into the repulsorlift, and set out on the much longer trip back.

[queenbeez-blog]

1:50 Sienar Fleet Systems “TIE/E” Escort Fighter, “801”, based on board of the Imperial-class Star Destroyer ‘Vehement’ during the Battle of Endor (Whif/kitbashing)

+++ DISCLAIMER +++ Nothing you see here is real, even though the conversion or the presented background story might be based historical facts. BEWARE!

Some background: The TIE/LN starfighter, or TIE/line starfighter, simply known as the TIE Fighter or T/F, was the standard Imperial starfighter seen in massive numbers throughout most of the Galactic Civil War and onward. The TIE Fighter was manufactured by Sienar Fleet Systems and led to several upgraded TIE models such as TIE/sa bomber, TIE/IN interceptor, TIE/D Defender, TIE/D automated starfighter, and many more.

The original TIEs were designed to attack in large numbers, overwhelming the enemy craft. The Imperials used so many that they came to be considered symbols of the Empire and its might. They were also very cheap to produce, reflecting the Imperial philosophy of quantity over quality.

However, a disadvantage of the fighter was its lack of deflector shields. In combat, pilots had to rely on the TIE/LN’s maneuverability to avoid damage. The cockpit did incorporate crash webbing, a repulsorlift antigravity field, and a high-g shock seat to help protect the pilot, however these did next to nothing to help protect against enemy blaster fire.

Due to the lack of life-support systems, each TIE pilot had a fully sealed flight suit superior to their Rebel counterparts. The absence of a hyperdrive also rendered the light fighter totally dependent on carrier ships when deployed in enemy systems. TIE/LNs also lacked landing gear, another mass-reducing measure. While the ships were structurally capable of "sitting" on their wings, they were not designed to land or disembark their pilots without special support. On Imperial ships, TIEs were launched from racks in the hangar bays.

The high success rate of more advanced Rebel starfighters against standard Imperial TIE Fighters resulted in a mounting cost of replacing destroyed fighters and their pilots. That, combined with the realization that the inclusion of a hyperdrive would allow the fleet to be more flexible, caused the Imperial Navy to rethink its doctrine of using swarms of cheap craft instead of fewer high-quality ones, leading to the introduction of the TIE Advanced x1 and its successor, the TIE Avenger. The following TIE/D Defender as well as the heavy TIE Escort Fighter (or TIE/E) were touted as the next "logical advance" of the TIE Series—representing a shift in starfighter design from previous, expendable TIE models towards fast, well armed and protected designs, capable of hyperspace travel and long-term crew teams which gained experience and capabilities over time.

The TIE/E Escort, was a high-performance TIE Series starfighter developed for the Imperial Navy by Sienar Fleet Systems and it was introduced into service shortly before the Battle of Endor. It was a much heavier counterpart to the agile and TIE/D fighter, and more of an attack ship or even a light bomber than a true dogfighter. Its role were independent long range operations, and in order to reduce the work load and boost morale a crew of two was introduced (a pilot and a dedicated weapon systems officer/WSO). The primary duty profile included attack and escort task, but also reconnoiter missions. The TIE/E shared the general layout with the contemporary TIE/D fighter, but the cockpit section as well as the central power unit were much bigger, and the ship was considerably heavier.

The crew enjoyed – compared with previous TIE fighter designs – a spacious and now fully pressurized cockpit, so that no pressurized suits had to be worn anymore. The crew members sat in tandem under a large, clear canopy. The pilot in front had a very good field of view, while the WSO sat behind him, in a higher, staggered position with only a limited field of view. Both work stations had separate entries, though, and places could not be switched in flight: the pilot mounted the cockpit through a hatch on port side, while the WSO entered the rear compartment through a roof hatch.

In a departure from the design of previous TIE models, instead of two parallel wings to either side of the pilot module, the TIE Escort had three quadanium steel solar array wings mounted symmetrically around an aft section, which contained an I-s4d solar ionization reactor to store and convert solar energy collected from the wing panels. The inclusion of a third wing provided additional solar power to increase the ship’s range and the ship’s energy management system was designed to allow weapons and shields to be charged with minimum loss of power to the propulsion system.

Although it was based on the standard twin ion engine design, the TIE/E’s propulsion system was upgraded to the entirely new, powerful P-sz9.8 triple ion engine. This allowed the TIE/E a maximum acceleration of 4,220 G or 21 MGLT/s and a top speed of 144 MGLT, or 1,680 km/h in an atmosphere — almost 40 percent faster than a former standard TIE Fighter. With tractor beam recharge power (see below) redirected to the engines, the top speed could be increased to 180 MGLT in a dash. In addition to the main thrusters located in the aft section, the TIE Escort’s triple wing design allowed for three arrays of maneuvering jets and it featured an advanced F-s5x flight avionics system to process the pilot’s instructions. Production models received a class 2, ND9 hyperdrive motivator, modified from the version developed for the TIE Avenger. The TIE/E also carried a Sienar N-s6 Navcon navigation computer with a ten-jump memory.

Special equipment included a small tractor beam projector, originally developed for the TIE Avenger, which could be easily fitted to the voluminous TIE Escort. Models produced by Ysanne Isard’s production facility regularly carried such tractor beams and the technology found other uses, such as towing other damaged starfighters until they could achieve the required velocity to enter hyperspace. The tractor beam had limited range and could only be used for a short time before stopping to recharge, but it added new tactics, too. For instance, the beam allowed the TIE/E crews to temporarily inhibit the mobility of enemy fighters, making it easier to target them with the ship’s other weapon systems, or prevent enemies from clear shots.

The TIE Escort’s weapons systems were primarily designed to engage bigger ships and armored or shielded targets, like armed freighters frequently used by the Alliance. Thanks to its complex weapon and sensor suite, it could also engage multiple enemy fighters at once. The sensors also allowed an effective attack of ground targets, so that atmospheric bombing was a potential mission for the TIE/E, too. . The TIE Escort Fighter carried a formidable array of weaponry in two modular weapon bays that were mounted alongside the lower cabin. In standard configuration, the TIE/E had two L-s9.3 laser cannons and two NK-3 ion cannons. The laser and ion cannons could be set to fire separately or, if concentrated power was required, to fire-linked in either pairs or as a quartet. The ship also featured two M-g-2 general-purpose warhead launchers, each of which could be equipped with a standard load of three proton torpedoes or four concussion missiles. Depending on the mission profile, the ship could be fitted with alternative warheads such as proton rockets, proton bombs, or magnetic pulse warheads. Additionally, external stores could be carried under the fuselage, which included a conformal sensor pallet for reconnaissance missions or a cargo bay with a capacity for 500 kg (1.100 lb).

The ship’s defenses were provided by a pair of forward and rear projecting Novaldex deflector shield generators—another advantage over former standard TIE models. The shields were designed to recharge more rapidly than in previous Imperial fighters and were nearly as powerful as those found on capital ships, so that the TIE/E could engage other ships head-on with a very high survivability. The fighters were not equipped with particle shields, though, relying on the reinforced titanium hull to absorb impacts from matter. Its hull and wings were among the strongest of any TIE series Starfighter yet.

The advanced starfighter attracted the attention of several other factions, and the Empire struggled to prevent the spread of the technology. The ship’s high cost, together with political factors, kept it from achieving widespread use in the Empire, though, and units were assigned only to the most elite crews.

The TIE/E played a central role in the Empire’s campaign against rogue Grand Admiral Demetrius Zaarin, and mixed Defender and Escort units participated in several other battles, including the Battle of Endor. The TIE Escort continued to see limited use by the Imperial Remnant up to at least 44 ABY, and was involved in numerous conflicts, including the Yuuzhan Vong War..

The kit and its assembly: Another group build contribution, this time to the Science Fiction GB at whatifmodelers.com during summer 2017. Originally, this one started as an attempt to build a vintage MPC TIE Interceptor kit which I had bought and half-heartedly started to build probably 20 years ago. But I did not have the right mojo (probably, The Force was not strong enough…?), so the kit ended up in a dark corner and some parts were donated to other projects.

The sun collectors were still intact, though, and in the meantime I had the idea of reviving the kit’s remains, and convert it into (what I thought was) a fictional TIE Fighter variant with three solar panels. For this plan I got myself another TIE Interceptor kit, and stashed it away, too. Mojo was still missing, though.

Well, then came the SF GB and I took it as an occasion to finally tackle the build. But when I prepared for the build I found out that my intended design (over the years) more or less actually existed in the Star Wars universe: the TIE/D Defender! I could have built it with the parts and hand and some improvisation, but the design similarity bugged me. Well, instead of a poor copy of something that was more or less clearly defined, I rather decided to create something more individual, yet plausible, from the parts at hand.

The model was to stay a TIE design, though, in order to use as much donor material from the MPC kits as possible. Doing some legwork, I settled for a heavy fighter – bigger than the TIE Interceptor and the TIE/D fighter, a two-seater. Working out the basic concept and layout took some time and evolved gradually. The creative spark for the TIE/E eventually came through a Revell “Obi Wan’s Jedi Starfighter” snap fit kit in my pile – actually a prize from a former GB participation at phoxim.de (Thanks a lot, Wolfgang!), and rather a toy than a true model kit.

The Jedi Fighter was in so far handy as it carries some TIE Fighter design traits, like the pilot capsule and the characteristic spider web windscreen. Anyway, it’s 1:32, much bigger than the TIE Interceptor’s roundabout 1:50 scale – but knowing that I’d never build the Jedi Starfighter OOB I used it as a donor bank, and from this starting point things started to evolve gradually.

Work started with the cockpit section, taken from the Jedi Starfighter kit. The two TIE Interceptor cockpit tubs were then mounted inside, staggered, and the gaps to the walls filled with putty. A pretty messy task, and once the shapes had been carved out some triangular tiles were added to the surfaces – a detail I found depicted in SW screenshots and some TIE Fighter models.

Another issue became the crew – even though I had two MPC TIE Interceptors and, theorectically, two pilot figures, only one of them could be found and the second crewman had to be improvised. I normally do not build 1:48 scale things, but I was lucky (and happy) to find an SF driver figure, left over from a small Dougram hoovercraft kit (from Takara, as a Revell “Robotech” reboxing). This driver is a tad bigger than the 1:50 TIE pilot, but I went with it because I did not want to invest money and time in alternatives. In order to justify the size difference I decided to paint the Dougram driver as a Chiss, based on the expanded SW universe (with blue skin and hair, and glowing red eyes). Not certain if this makes sense during the Battle of Endor timeframe, but it adds some color to the project – and the cockpit would not be visible in much detail since it would be finished fully closed.

Reason behind the closed canopy is basically the poor fit of the clear part. OOB, this is intended as an action toy – but also the canopy’s considerable size in 1:50 would prevent its original opening mechanism. Additional braces on the rel. large window panels were created with self-adhesive tape and later painted over.

The rear fuselage section and the solar panel pylons were scratched. The reactor behind the cockpit section is actually a plastic adapter for water hoses, found in a local DIY market. It was slightly modified, attached to the cockpit “egg” and both parts blended with putty. The tail opening was closed with a hatch from the OOB TIE Interceptor – an incidental but perfect match in size and style.

The three pylons are also lucky finds: actually, these are SF wargaming/tabletop props and would normally be low walls or barriers, made from resin. For my build, they were more or less halved and trimmed. Tilted by 90°, they are attached to the hull with iron wire stabilizers, and later blended to the hull with putty, too.

Once the cockpit was done, things moved more swiftly. The surface of the hull was decorated with many small bits and pieces, including thin styrene sheet and profiles, steel and iron wire in various strengths, and there are even 1:72 tank tracks hidden somewhere, as well as protective caps from syringes (main guns and under the rear fuselage). It’s amazing how much stuff you can add to such a model – but IMHO it’s vital in order to create some structure and to emulate the (early) Star Wars look.

Painting and markings: The less spectacular part of the project, even though still a lot of work because of the sheer size of the model’s surface. Since the whole thing is fictional, I tried to stay true to the Imperial designs from Episode IV-VI and gave the TIE/E a simple, all-light grey livery. All basic painting was done with rattle cans. Work started with a basic coat of grey primer. On top of that, an initial coat of RAL 7036 Platingrau was added, esp. to the lower surfaces and recesses, for a rough shading effect. Then, the actual overall tone, RAL 7047, called “Telegrau 4”, one of Deutsche Telekom’s corporate tones, was added – mostly sprayed from abone and the sides onto the model. Fuselage and panels were painted separately, overall assembly was one of the final steps.

The solar panels were to stand out from the grey rest of the model, and I painted them with Revell Acrylic “Iron Metallic” (91) first, and later applied a rather rich wash with black ink , making sure the color settled well into the many small cells. The effect is pretty good, and the contrast was slightly enhanced through a dry-brushing treatment.

Only a few legible stencils were added all around the hull (most from the scrap box or from mecha sheets), the Galactic Empire Seal were inkjet-printed at home, as well as some tactical markings on the flanks, puzzled together from single digits in "Aurebash", one of the Imperial SW languages/fonts. For some variety and color highlights, dozens of small, round and colorful markings were die-punched from silver, yellow, orange, red and blue decal sheet and were placed all over the hull – together with the large panels they blur into the the overall appearance, though. The hatches received thin red linings, also made from generic decals strips.

The cockpit interior was a bit challenging, though. Good TIE Fighter cockpit interior pictures are hard to find, but they suggest a dark grey tone. More confusingly, the MPC instructions call for a “Dark Green” cockpit? Well, I did not like the all-grey option, since the spaceship is already monochrome grey on the outside.

As a compromise I eventually used Tamiya XF-65 "Field Grey". The interior recieved a black ink in and dry-brushing treatment, and some instruments ansd screens were created with black decal material and glossy black paint; some neon paint was used for sci-fi-esque conmtraol lamps everywhere – I did not pay too much intention on the interior, since the cockpit would stay closed, and the thick clear material blurs everything inside. Following this rationale, the crew was also painted in arather minimal fashion – both wear a dark grey uniform, only the Chiss pilot stands aout with his light blue skin and the flourescent red eyes.

After an overall black ink wash the model received a dry brusing treatment with FS 36492 and FS 36495, for a weathered and battle-worn look. After all, the "Vehement" would not survive the Ballte of Endor, but who knows what became of TIE/E "801"’s mixed crew…? Finally, the kit was sealed with matt acrylic varnish, and some final cosmetic corrections made.

The display is a DIY creation, too, made from a 6×6" piece of wood, it’s edges covered with edgebonder, a steel wire as holder, and finally the display was paited with semi-matt black acrylic paint from the rattle can.

A complex build, and the TIE/E more or less evolved along the way, with only the overall layout in mind. Work took a month, but I think it was worth the effort. This fantasy creation looks pretty plausible and blends well into the vast canonical TIE Fighter family – and I am happy that I finally could finish this mummy project, including the surplus Jedi Starfighter kit which now also find a very good use!

An epic one, and far outside my standard comfort zone. But a wothwhile build!

Posted by dizzyfugu on 2017-08-19 18:32:22

Tagged: , mpc , tie , defender , escort , fighter , interceptor , star , wars , sw , endor , battle , two , seater , chiss , pilot , tandem , heavy , sienar , imperial , empire , sith , ral , grey , fictional , kitbashing , modellbau , whif , what-if , non-canonical , tri , three , dizzyfugu , science , fiction , group , build , whatifmodelers

The post 1:50 Sienar Fleet Systems “TIE/E” Escort Fighter, “801”, based on board of the Imperial-class Star Destroyer ‘Vehement’ during the Battle of Endor (Whif/kitbashing) appeared first on Good Info.

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