Irys Arist'lar
Character
Irys stepped out of the mag-train, grunting as a heavily set bothan in a suit pushed past her. Damned public transport was such a hassle, but it took longer to get to the offices in her air speeder than it did on the train. Nearly half of the people in the crowd were uniforms. Not surprising when the station was within a few hundred metres of one of the largest military sites on Bothawui. As the crowd started to disperse, she slung her bag back over he shoulder. Once before she’d done that and slammed it into the face of a Commander when she’d still been a lieutenant. He’d taken it rather well, but her fur had flattened in embarrassment.
It was a pleasant day for once. One of the joys of being back on the ground was having weather again, rather than the dry, cool air conditioned air of a ship every day. It also provided small talk. Remarkable how quickly you ran out of things to talk about during a covert op in deep spaces. No Holonet connection, days of staring at grey bulkheads and the cerulean swirls of hyperspace.
She smiled to Dasht, one of the few guards who she knew by name. He smiled and nodded his head as she walked passed. His grip nearly slipped on the grip of his rifle and he swore as he regained control. Had he smiled a little more warmly than usual? Ah, she noticed the Vice Admiral walking further up the hill, his usual steaming cup of caff in hand. Irys quickened her pace to try and catch up to him.
The Hoersch Kessel Driveworks Ion Drive. A staple of ship design for millennia. In that time little had changed, minor upgrades to components and parts. It had been worse for a few thousand years, she’d been told, when supply to some of the key allows had been cut off. The design spun in a full three-dimensional holo recreation before her. This was a starship model, typically seen in frigates and cruisers.
HKD had been very quiet and small through the years of darkness. With the latest contracts signed with the Corporate Alliance, they actually had some small amount of finance to put into some reworking.
She was now working with a team of designers from HKD, alongside military staff to rework the engines for some specific projects. They needed something fast and powerful, and could afford to increase cost and the engine’s ship agnostic nature.
Irys waved her arms and the display changed. The title flicked to:
HKD Overdrive Engine v0.0.71
It was nearly there. The first thing they’d done was change the intake mechanism. It needed to be streamlined, to feed more thrust material through into the main engine. That meant they’d lost the ability to easily convert to between different fuel sources, as in the case of the original engine she’d just dismissed.
Momentum was the product of speed and mass. The engine could produce a greater impulse by either firing more material out, or launching it at higher velocities. They were going for both. The firing cells had been completely re-worked. They’d looked at some of the more modern engines being released, and incorporated some elements that were now universally accepted as beneficial. The result was that the engines fired particles with 10% greater velocity.
The magnetic vectrals, used to impart momentum perpendicular to the velocity of the particles, and thus a sideways impulse to the ship, had been reworked. A change in velocity and quantity of ions meant they had been unsuitable and constantly struggled in simulations to keep the ship aligned. They’d made them longer, more solid. At the same time they were lighter and more precise. They were almost the largest increase in cost so far, but the results were good. They were very sensitive, but the computers had been reprogrammed to allow both precise and large, rapid changes in thrust direction.
Alignment was an issue still. It wouldn’t take much of a knock to put them out of line. Simulations had shown that Protectorate mass drivers in particular would throw the engines out of alignment. One Captain of simulated test vessels had frequently remarked: “If the damn engines report they need a reboot one more time, I’m going to get out and push!”
“Right,” she called across the floor plate. “I want to programming team and mechanical thrust alignment team working closely all week. I want regular touch points and collaboration. So far you’ve been acting as two disparate teams, and so going in two different directions. Sort it out!”
It wasn’t that easy of course. Irys had spent much of the week trying to resolve differences between the two teams. Each head wanted to show that his team had solved the problem in spite of the other team. She was bored of the dick waving contest and had sent them both away to another project for the week, claiming that it was a “knowledge sharing exercise”.
It hadn’t been. Unsurprisingly when the two sets of engineers (software and mechanical) had been freed of their management layer they collaborated much better. As an engineer originally herself she considered project managers a layer of superfluous bluster and acronym generation.
When the managers had returned the problems had been solved. She’d allowed the team who’d brought her the solution to present it to senior stakeholders, and the two managers had been asked to sit in silence in the corner. It had been a difficult hour of keeping her fur from expressing her amusement at their dour mood.
They’d managed to get extra thrust out of the engines, and as a bonus they’d got the overdrive capability working too. For short periods of time more energy could be poured into the engines. Overdrive was possible in the Dirk for short periods, but not whilst firing.
The first half of the following week was spent finalising the simulation and getting the designs linked up with the new ships. The Dirk class was the latest HKD design. A lightweight frigate for rapid response to fighter threats. Less well-armed than a Turtle-class, but quicker and more agile. Irys herself had decided, upon seeing the Protectorate’s Horn classes in action, that quicker and more responsive was the way to go with Starfighter defence. With luck, the engine would also go on HCE’s Scythe for the Mk2.
Unfortunately that had been in vain. There was a limited pool of test crews between a range of research and development projects. They had to wait two more weeks to get together for a new set of simulation runs on the Dirk. She exchanged pleasantries with the Captain, but he didn’t give anything away.
She stressed for days waiting for the report. Several bottles of wine lay empty in her recycler by the end of the following week. She swore several times under her breath when the finished report was circulated. But she exhaled a deep breath as she saw the green banner on the front page.
Trials passed. Recommend proceed to first production run.
She didn’t even look at the detail of the report at first. She immediately sent to messages to her staff and colleague, congratulating them on their fine work. The detail of the report was good too. The Captain of the simulated vessel, a veteran who had worked on the trials of the Turtle class had given praise, as had his helm crew.
Simulations were not real trials, but it was a pretty good day as far as Irys was concerned. It occurred to her that just a few months ago she had been on the other side. Giving manufacturers no wiggle room for error when working to her exacting standards. Well the boot was well and truly on the other foot now. The pressure was on her to deliver. Perhaps this wasn’t the right line of work. It would frequently be this stressful. She’d have to take being told frequently that she was slipping on timescales, meeting production demand, not understanding the needs of the navy.
Four months later she decided she had made the correct career move. She stood on the deck of one of Hypori shipyard’s viewing galleries. The flood lights were on, picking out the details of the first Dirk-class to come out of production for trials. Already the crew were abroad after an intensive training regime, which she had spent time working on as the HKD representative. Pride welled as she watched the ship gracefully turn and slide through space effortlessly.
She heard a commotion behind her. “No tell the Captain he’s not to do that yet!”
“What is it?” Irys asked, but she was ignored.
“You’re not putting them on overdrive until a full week of trials to work out the kinks and…”
“Tell him that’s out of the question!” Irys snapped, realising what was going on. Too late she realised. The blue of the engines shifted hue to green as they went into overdrive and the small vessel accelerated away. “Stupid bastard,” she muttered under her breath.
It was a pleasant day for once. One of the joys of being back on the ground was having weather again, rather than the dry, cool air conditioned air of a ship every day. It also provided small talk. Remarkable how quickly you ran out of things to talk about during a covert op in deep spaces. No Holonet connection, days of staring at grey bulkheads and the cerulean swirls of hyperspace.
She smiled to Dasht, one of the few guards who she knew by name. He smiled and nodded his head as she walked passed. His grip nearly slipped on the grip of his rifle and he swore as he regained control. Had he smiled a little more warmly than usual? Ah, she noticed the Vice Admiral walking further up the hill, his usual steaming cup of caff in hand. Irys quickened her pace to try and catch up to him.
The Hoersch Kessel Driveworks Ion Drive. A staple of ship design for millennia. In that time little had changed, minor upgrades to components and parts. It had been worse for a few thousand years, she’d been told, when supply to some of the key allows had been cut off. The design spun in a full three-dimensional holo recreation before her. This was a starship model, typically seen in frigates and cruisers.
HKD had been very quiet and small through the years of darkness. With the latest contracts signed with the Corporate Alliance, they actually had some small amount of finance to put into some reworking.
She was now working with a team of designers from HKD, alongside military staff to rework the engines for some specific projects. They needed something fast and powerful, and could afford to increase cost and the engine’s ship agnostic nature.
Irys waved her arms and the display changed. The title flicked to:
HKD Overdrive Engine v0.0.71
It was nearly there. The first thing they’d done was change the intake mechanism. It needed to be streamlined, to feed more thrust material through into the main engine. That meant they’d lost the ability to easily convert to between different fuel sources, as in the case of the original engine she’d just dismissed.
Momentum was the product of speed and mass. The engine could produce a greater impulse by either firing more material out, or launching it at higher velocities. They were going for both. The firing cells had been completely re-worked. They’d looked at some of the more modern engines being released, and incorporated some elements that were now universally accepted as beneficial. The result was that the engines fired particles with 10% greater velocity.
The magnetic vectrals, used to impart momentum perpendicular to the velocity of the particles, and thus a sideways impulse to the ship, had been reworked. A change in velocity and quantity of ions meant they had been unsuitable and constantly struggled in simulations to keep the ship aligned. They’d made them longer, more solid. At the same time they were lighter and more precise. They were almost the largest increase in cost so far, but the results were good. They were very sensitive, but the computers had been reprogrammed to allow both precise and large, rapid changes in thrust direction.
Alignment was an issue still. It wouldn’t take much of a knock to put them out of line. Simulations had shown that Protectorate mass drivers in particular would throw the engines out of alignment. One Captain of simulated test vessels had frequently remarked: “If the damn engines report they need a reboot one more time, I’m going to get out and push!”
“Right,” she called across the floor plate. “I want to programming team and mechanical thrust alignment team working closely all week. I want regular touch points and collaboration. So far you’ve been acting as two disparate teams, and so going in two different directions. Sort it out!”
It wasn’t that easy of course. Irys had spent much of the week trying to resolve differences between the two teams. Each head wanted to show that his team had solved the problem in spite of the other team. She was bored of the dick waving contest and had sent them both away to another project for the week, claiming that it was a “knowledge sharing exercise”.
It hadn’t been. Unsurprisingly when the two sets of engineers (software and mechanical) had been freed of their management layer they collaborated much better. As an engineer originally herself she considered project managers a layer of superfluous bluster and acronym generation.
When the managers had returned the problems had been solved. She’d allowed the team who’d brought her the solution to present it to senior stakeholders, and the two managers had been asked to sit in silence in the corner. It had been a difficult hour of keeping her fur from expressing her amusement at their dour mood.
They’d managed to get extra thrust out of the engines, and as a bonus they’d got the overdrive capability working too. For short periods of time more energy could be poured into the engines. Overdrive was possible in the Dirk for short periods, but not whilst firing.
The first half of the following week was spent finalising the simulation and getting the designs linked up with the new ships. The Dirk class was the latest HKD design. A lightweight frigate for rapid response to fighter threats. Less well-armed than a Turtle-class, but quicker and more agile. Irys herself had decided, upon seeing the Protectorate’s Horn classes in action, that quicker and more responsive was the way to go with Starfighter defence. With luck, the engine would also go on HCE’s Scythe for the Mk2.
Unfortunately that had been in vain. There was a limited pool of test crews between a range of research and development projects. They had to wait two more weeks to get together for a new set of simulation runs on the Dirk. She exchanged pleasantries with the Captain, but he didn’t give anything away.
She stressed for days waiting for the report. Several bottles of wine lay empty in her recycler by the end of the following week. She swore several times under her breath when the finished report was circulated. But she exhaled a deep breath as she saw the green banner on the front page.
Trials passed. Recommend proceed to first production run.
She didn’t even look at the detail of the report at first. She immediately sent to messages to her staff and colleague, congratulating them on their fine work. The detail of the report was good too. The Captain of the simulated vessel, a veteran who had worked on the trials of the Turtle class had given praise, as had his helm crew.
Simulations were not real trials, but it was a pretty good day as far as Irys was concerned. It occurred to her that just a few months ago she had been on the other side. Giving manufacturers no wiggle room for error when working to her exacting standards. Well the boot was well and truly on the other foot now. The pressure was on her to deliver. Perhaps this wasn’t the right line of work. It would frequently be this stressful. She’d have to take being told frequently that she was slipping on timescales, meeting production demand, not understanding the needs of the navy.
Four months later she decided she had made the correct career move. She stood on the deck of one of Hypori shipyard’s viewing galleries. The flood lights were on, picking out the details of the first Dirk-class to come out of production for trials. Already the crew were abroad after an intensive training regime, which she had spent time working on as the HKD representative. Pride welled as she watched the ship gracefully turn and slide through space effortlessly.
She heard a commotion behind her. “No tell the Captain he’s not to do that yet!”
“What is it?” Irys asked, but she was ignored.
“You’re not putting them on overdrive until a full week of trials to work out the kinks and…”
“Tell him that’s out of the question!” Irys snapped, realising what was going on. Too late she realised. The blue of the engines shifted hue to green as they went into overdrive and the small vessel accelerated away. “Stupid bastard,” she muttered under her breath.