Pimp My Starfighter

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Karina's Jewel, Geonosis System [ Oort Cloud ]​

​

Few things were as enjoyable as simply savoring the rare finds of the cosmos.

The diners, drive ins, and dives of the paths less taken. Far away from the hyperlanes or the commonly traveled paths that weaved the major traffic patterns like ribbons across a galactic map. Remarkably, one didn't necessarily have to go far to find such a diamond in the rough.

Karina's Jewel was an artificial city on the outskirts of the Geonosis System, the capital of the Confederacy. A hidden gem out in the oort cloud that orbited the furthest reaches of the solar system. Most who traveled into Geonosis never gave it so much as a first thought, let along a second. It was just so much debris to be evaluated and assessed for safe navigation beyond its orbit, allowing commercial and tourist traffic to pass it by en route to the more popular destination of the Confederate capital.

Few realized that cities such as this one even existed.

He knew, of course. But, for the better part of the last thousand years, he'd also made it his business to know these things.

The young Anzat sat beside where a large glassteel window looked out upon the Geonosis System. Another G-75 commercial freighter had just jumped into the system, lumbering under its own mass as its transitioned from lightspeed to sublight drive for the cruise inward toward Geonis. The boy was nursing a frosty mug of root beer, a half eaten plate of food, and a nostalgia for the past.

The diner on this end was run by a droid named B3-R7HA. Many centuries before, it had been a servitor droid inside of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, where it had served the Jedi Order of the Old Republic. Like him, it was now a spectre of the long dead past, and equally uncertain of just how it had survived to this common era.

To be honest, the food wasn't all that great.

In fact, it was downright horrible.

Strange, how memory didn't quite want to believe that the food served in the Jedi Temple in those days had been as bad as it had been. It was all viewed through such rose colored glasses. A unified galaxy. So many centuries of peace. So easy to forget the flaws and mistakes that had slowly whittled away a utopia that they had all taken for granted...

The boy got up and left his food untouched on the table. A handful of credits were tossed onto the table top, as the small Jedi made his way back to where a YT-2400 light freighter rested inside of the asteroid's open space port.

A moment's distraction from managing one of the largest corporations in the known galaxy, waiting for a Jedi to show up with a starfighter for some customization.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Tyl Ro"]​

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

(Several Months Ago)​

"It looks like there's a number of systems that are going to need replacements this time," the mechanic started, grabbing an oil-slicked towel nearby to wipe off the hands that had just been rummaging around inside his starship.

Unity, Jerek's J-1 Light Interceptor, which was really more starfighter than starship. It hadn't been new when he was assigned to it, and it was even older now, and well-worn. There were a few trusted shops that he would even consider taking his prized ship to, and Maagrib's had been a resilient resource for the Raging Nexus, so it seemed right that he should be back here. The mechanic was new, but if Maagrib trusted him, then Jerek would trust him.

That didn't mean he had to be happy about the list of grievances the Sullustan rattled off, "The retro-thrust nozzle is pretty much worn away, the starboard engine's reactant injector is losing integrity —not to mention the fuel plugs you have in there are substandard, and both of your laser coolant pumps are as far gone as I've ever seen them."

"Okay, so how much is it going to cost this time?" the boy inquired. The Vulptereen owner of the shop might have been a friend to his Raging Nexu squadron, but that didn't mean his business came for cheap. Jerek was lucky he had a brand new salary as part of the New Republic's Starfighter Corps now to cover the costs. He hoped.

"Well, see..." the mechanic trailed off. Jerek gave him a straight stare, and it was clear that the mechanic was new enough not to know how to give back a straight answer. He had probably come from one of those strip mall shops here on Onderon, maybe one that serviced the upper middle class clientelle who didn't care about the costs, they just wanted their ship fixed and to be on their way. "See, this is one of those old Republic ships..."

"Yeah," the Jedi teen confirmed, an edge forming in his voice at the mechanic's hesitance. "It's the J-1 type. Used to be for the Galactic Republic's Jedi Aces."

"Right, well, when the Republic fell, see, the Alliance took over."

Jerek hadn't realized he was here for a history lesson.

"Well, the J-1 used a bunch of specialized parts that were produced by big name companies in the Republic. And when the Alliance took over, they locked them all down for military-use only..."

"And?" Jerek was having a hard time keeping his annoyance from showing now.

"And then the Sith and First Order bombed all the factories that made parts for the military." Ah, the missing link. "So..."

"So you can't get the parts," the boy finished for the Sullustan, whose head bobbled from side to side.

"I mean, I could get something that would work. It just won't be nearly as efficient. And to make it as efficient as your little ship needs would probably require rebuilding the whole starboard engine, for one, and the engine it uses required a whole specialized workshop to disassemble..."

"Which you don't have," Jerek finished again, his annoyance replaced by simple resignation.

"Right. So you see the issue."

In truth, he did, and the issue was more than the Sullustan mechanic was saying. The real issue was that his little ship was at the far end of its usefulness, and despite the many scrapes, battles and close saves the two had been through, it was getting time for Jerek to consider drastic measures. Such as refurbishing the major systems and settling for something less than satisfactory.

Or worse, replacing the whole fighter completely.

All Jerek knew at the moment was that his little bank account was not going to stretch far enough to carry his fighter through either of those measures. Today's visit to Maagrib's would see the necessary fixes to get the fighter in shipshape form again, but he was going to need to start making plans for the future. And probably start yesterday.

(Present Day)​

The stars streaked back into pinprick points as the fighter exited hyperspace. A gloved hand hesitated over the controls, panning it from one of the center panels to one closer to the outside, before opening a plastisynth cover and hitting the switch underneath. There was a metallic noise that reverberated through the ship for a moment as it fell free of the durasteel latches holding it onto the hyperspace ring. Then a practiced pair of hands pointed the craft's nose gently and pushed up the throttle so the starfighter could clear the ring's hardware and maneuver freely towards the asteroid habitat.

The brand new J-2 Light Interceptor, not yet even named, rocketed brightly toward the dull-colored asteroid named Karina's Jewel. While Jerek had considered his membership with the Jedi Aces lapsed and defunct, it seemed as if the procurement specialists at the Jedi Temple of Rannon had considered otherwise. They were the only temple in the whole Jedi Academy Network that were happy to grant him one of the brand new starfighters, a redesigned class meant specifically to replace his. The stock at other temples, he was told, were being reserved for defense purposes, but the real reason was probably his enduring status as a Jedi Padawan, and not a Knight or Master, that made them reluctant to dispense such a limited quantity ship. Either Rannon's temple was truly enjoying a surplus, or they were simply trying to re-enter the good graces of the larger Jedi Order and recover from their time as a center for Dark Jedi.

Whatever the case, the Jedi teen was just glad to have a replacement for his aging relic of a starfighter. As sentimental as he could feel for the vessel's connection to his days among the Republic's Jedi Aces, it was still just a collection of durasteel, polymers and mechanical components that gave him the power of spaceflight. He would always have the memories of flying in it, even if the physical craft could no longer do so. The mechanics at the Rannon Temple had assured him they would find a place for the fighter as a training craft, though, so at least Jerek could feel satisfied that the old ship wasn't getting scrapped just yet.

As he passed through the habitat's large airlock and into the core of the asteroid's hollowed-out interior. Jerek was directed by the traffic controllers which lane to enter, and eventually he was granted clearance to land in the open spaceport, settling down a short distance away from the painted YT-2400 the boy had easily recognized from above. It had been some time since he had spoken with Master [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] since they had briefly flown in the New Republic's Blue Squadron together, but the eternally-youthful Jedi had seemed more exuberant than normal at Jerek's request for help in modifying the J-2 for his personal preferences.

After all, Jerek wasn't flying for the Jedi Aces anymore. He hardly needed to keep up the pretense of a minimalistic lifestyle. A few creature comforts in his preferred starfighter wasn't too much to ask, really.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The young Anzat had an oil rag in hand.

A blue and white BB unit rolled around beside him, chirping and beeping as the pair did an inspection on the Queen's undercarriage. There were a couple of spots where blaster damage, time, and the various pressures of trans-planetary travel were whittling away at the integrity of the outer hull. Some of it from Skye. Probably a fair bit from Transdosha. And then there had been that little maneuver at Kal'Shebbol...

The YT-2400 hadn't been new when Sor-Jan had come to own it. In many respects, it was remarkable that a ship this old was still in one piece. Though, it was inevitable that, at some point, the Alderaan Queen was going to reach the end of its serviceable life expectancy. If it wasn't already past that.

"I know you said that panel needed replacing back on Arkania," the youth was remarking, with a glance down at the orb-like droid. "I would have thought that kathor composite patch would have held better."

Honestly, it was 851 ABY. Didn't anyone make a reliable Bondo putty for starships?

BB-4 just gave a rather rude sounding chirp in reply.

Sor-Jan started to say something else, then paused as another ship came into the hangar. The form and style were distinctly Jedi. In fact, it reminded him of the old Eta-2's that they had flown during the last days of the Clone Wars...

...though, he supposed the J-1's of the more recent Galactic Republic's Jedi Order would have been a more relevant description. Very few alive today would have even known what an Eta-2 was.

Stepping out from underneath the shadow of the Queen, the small Anzat watched as the Jedi starfighter moved into a landing position near where the YT-2400 was berthed. Dropping the oil rag over the top of the BB unit's oval head, the boy walked over toward the starfighter -- while the droid gave a loud series of whistles and chirps, shaking off the rag.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"]​

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

In a galaxy as diverse as this one, it wasn't uncommon for Jerek to encounter droids populating spaceports. Yet they usually worked for, or at least alongside, organic species. On Karina's Jewel, though, the spaceport seemed to be staffed fully by droids, the few organic species he could see looked to be the pilots or ship crews, not the port's workers, mechanics or administrative staff. The Jedi teen climbed out of his J-2 fighter with a bewildered expression on his face, one that seemed lost on the protocol droid that approached him to finalize the logistics and fees for using the landing pad.

"Well, I don't know how long it's going to be, is there a flexible rate? Or a discount for a certain period?" the boy could be heard saying to the Czerka droid that had introduced itself as KZ-9T.

"Our largest discount occurs when leasing for 500 solar periods, which will grant a 64.27% discounted rate." KZ-9T said in its gravelly mechanical voice. "499 solar periods will grant a—"

"Oh Force." Jerek had no real idea how long the work was going to take, but he didn't need to spend the entire first day of it hearing about each individual discount for the pad fees. Might as well just make up a number. "What about two days?"

"Rates for each solar period are charged at full cost unless purchased in advance at a quantity greater than 30 solar periods."

The boy rolled his eyes, still another thing lost on the droid. Or maybe it wasn't, this was a protocol droid, but it seemed like one programmed not to care about humanoid behaviors. Idly, Jerek wondered just how far that could extend, but playing pranks on droids was usually only fun with others. And the approaching Master [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] probably didn't have that kind of humor sense. If he'd been here with his own squadron, he might have tried something. "Okay, then just one 'solar period,' please."

Turning to the diminutive Sor-Jan, and tossing his head back to the departing droid's figure, "If we weren't here to work on my ship, I'd think strongly about giving that one a few tweaks."

"So, SJ, what do you think of my new wings?" Jerek went on, gesturing broadly to the side of the fighter. It was so new, the paint hadn't even gotten the little browning that built up from entering planetary atmospheres. He spotted a minor ding on one of the side panels, probably from a micrometeoroid on his entry into the habitat today, and had to grin at little at the ship's first piece of damage. He was only a little disappointed it wasn't from training or combat, but that would come in time. "I swear, the guys at the Rannon Temple were still polishing it when I came to get it. I don't even know if it had been test flown before."

 

[Tyl Ro]

”I do enjoy a good cup of tea.”

Those were the fateful words that found Tyl on a barely livable hunk of rock and ice on the fringes of the Genesis solar system. The words had seemed so trivial at the time. This whole event started with a simple conversation. An old friend, Master [member=“Sor-Jan Xantha”], or just Sor-Jan as the Jedi Master insists most everyone to call him, stopped by Tyl’s lab on Monastery on one of of his many interstellar runs. The Kaminoan doctor had been enjoying a brew of her own devising, sourced from local, dried leaves and berries cultivated on Monastery. The talk between the two quickly turned to their knowledge of tea and eventually to the impressively-sized collection aboard Master Xantha’s freighter.

The next thing she knew, Tyl was parsecs from home, hurtling through hyperspace.

One would think that a Kaminoan Jedi Knight, known for her intellectual acumen, wouldn’t be so easily abducted. And yet, Tyl couldn’t quite say she was surprised. Getting lost in her research was not uncommon for her, and tea was a natural healing agent if ever there was one. Stepping aboard the Anzat Master’s ship, Tyl was immediately drawn to the plethora of stored concoctions, the multitude of brewing methods, storage methods, drying elements, and receptacles for the inevitable consumption of steeped perfection. Amidst her careful study of Master Xantha’s collection, the diminutive Master had managed to take a message from a Padawan, steal himself away from the freighter’s lounge to the cockpit, plot a course and pilot them through the atmosphere of Monastery, and finally make the necessary calculations for the jump to hyperspace before Tyl even knew they had departed the planet.

Ah well, she had thought. A little trip away from the lab is never a bad thing. After all, how long had it been?

Years, really. Tyl had been cloistered in with her research for some time, allowing the galaxy to take its course without her. And after all that time, what had she gained? Any great discoveries? Not really. No surefire curatives. A few antitoxins, a few antibiotics, a slight yield increase in hydroponically grown bacta.

Plenty of new tea recipes.

Maybe getting out would be good for her. Gain some perspective on, well, things. Stretch her legs a bit, as the human expression goes.

And drink plenty of tea, courtesy of her abductor.

Tyl stepped off the ship and quickly found said abductor engaged with a young, human male among a slew of ships. A hangar lay spread out around them, droids buzzing around in every which way.

”Many pardons, Master Xantha,” Tyl interjected in her sing-songy and yet somehow neutral voice. The Kaminoan turned her attention to the young man whom she had yet to meet. She declined her head in as best of a rendition of a bow as she was capable, her neck doing most of the bending. ”I am Tyl Ro. A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

[member="Jerek Zenduu"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

That starfighter didn't even have carbon scoring around the engine exhausts.

He supposed that was impressive in its own way. Showroom condition wasn't exactly a quality that Sor-Jan looked for in what he flew, as was likely evidenced by the Corellian freighter behind him. Such an un-tested vehicle made the young Anzat concerned for how the starfighter would handle under stress.

New things were shiny objects. That didn't necessarily translate into their being effective when you needed them to be.

"It's very..." the boy began, trailing off as he quietly mulled over the right word to describe the futuristic counterpart to the Old Republic's Eta-2. Shiny? Pretty? Retro? "...clean," he uttered finally.

Whether that was a good or bad thing was a matter up for debate.

At the arrival of the tall Kaminoan woman, the boy turned his head to gaze up at the elongated figure. "Oh, hey, Tyl," the boy offered casually, before motioning toward the teenage boy. "This is Jerek. He was part of the Silver Fleet around the same time that I was," Sor-Jan offered, by way of introduction.

Looking back at the starfighter for a moment, the young Anzat finally turned back toward the teen.

"Does it even have a sound system?"

[member="Tyl Ro"] | [member="Jerek Zenduu"]​

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

Clean wasn't even the half of it.

The J-2 was brand new, like probably-never-flown-before new. Jerek had been assured that the model was battle tested, but the few years he'd spent flying himself had made it clear that every craft was unique. What worked on one might fail spectacularly in another, leaving him uneasy about the actual combat-readiness of his own fighter. With so few opportunities for battle at the moment, however, that kind of trial might have to come under live fire.

But today was about the fighter's comfort abilities, not combat. With the apparent aid of not one, but two, elder Jedi. If, indeed, Jerek could call SJ an elder.

"Greetings, Master Ro," Jerek intoned, dipping his body in a proper return bow, using the opportunity to take in the Kaminoan Jedi before him. As his neck stretched back farther than it was used to, the boy realized just how much there was to take in. She looked somewhat familiar, but he had rarely seen a Kaminoan so he had hardly any frame of reference for how to tell them apart, but as Jerek gazed into the woman's green eyes he understood why. "I think I remember seeing you around Voss sometime. Did you teach a class or..?"

If Jerek was going to be honest, he didn't remember much from his time with the Silvers outside of piloting.

"Huh? I didn't think about that, I guess." Jerek admitted at SJ's question of a sound system. He knew other pilots listened to music in the cockpit, but it was a strange notion to him. Perhaps he had just never had the chance before. His goals were slightly different. "I was thinking more about a place to watch holomovies. Have you ever heard of Holoflix?"

The boy stared blankly at the space behind SJ for a moment, not a hard thing to do given the diminutive master's height, before smacking his forehead with an open palm. He dragged the hand down his face for a moment in horror at his own stupidity. "Of course you have, duh. So, you get the idea, a place to stream Holoflix. Maybe even hook up a Holostation for gaming on long hyperspace journeys outside of range."

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Tyl Ro"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The young Anzat nodded.

HoloNet streaming. And Holo-gaming. Without another word, the boy started toward the starfighter so that he could get a closer look at what the wiring scheme inside of the cockpit was like. "What kind of voltage are you rigged for?" the boy asked, thinking aloud as he passed underneath the starfighter.

Craning his head up, Sor-Jan examined the exterior points along the hull for the tell-tale sign of maintenance ports and access hatches. He could make some assumptions regarding the mechanicals, but the electrical system was at issue here. What kind of amplitude was available? Would they need to adjust the voltage?

Climbing up to the open cockpit, the tawny haired youth held onto the side of the cockpit as he ducked his head down. His head was angled to view the foot well. His legs and feet dangling up in the air, as the Anzat peered at the underside of the cockpit's main console. The fuse box was almost always up under there.

Crawling his way inside, the boy turned so that he was on his back as he wormed his way further within. Having located what he believed to be the fuse box, Sor-Jan pried it open to get a look at what they were working with here.

"We'll need to adjust the wattage," he noted, before pulling his legs in. A moment later, his head poked up over the side of the cockpit to look down at Jerek. "And I've got a galactic positioning system, too, if you want some help navigating the heavier traffic patterns of major star systems."

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Tyl Ro"]​

 

[Tyl Ro]

The Kaminoan slowly blinked a few times. Had she met this boy somewhere? Humanoids aged so strangely. Jerek’s coutenance was not of a shape that struck a memory, neither did his voice. Years had past since last she was on Voss, and over that span Jerek could easily have doubled in size. As a result, whatever the boy looked like then could be vastly different from the young man that stood casually before her. To be fair, in all her life, Tyl had never met another Kaminoan Jedi. Human Jedi were plentiful, on the other hand, and so hard to tell apart at times. If Jerek says they had met, then Tyl believed him.

”My, Voss was so long ago. Though I did spend some time there after the Galactic Republic started to falter. I suppose, then, that <<Good to see you again>> would be the appropriate greeting.” A lighthearted laugh concluded the last sentence.

Sipping at the tea in her cup, Tyl stood and watched the two crawl over, inside, and around Jerek’s ship as they began discussing the upgrades that the vessel would undergo. The anatomy of a starfighter, or anything remotely mechanical in nature, was far beyond Tyl’s knowledge. Components, power couplings, wiring, not to mention the differences between materials, metals, ceramics, optics. And yet, she imagined that if she were to begin expounding upon the anatomy of a being, no matter how big or small, the response would be the same.

The more the doctor listened to her colleague’s conversation, the more analogues between anatomy and starship repair she started to think up. The way that mechanics talked about their enhancements reminded her of the way Kaminoans talked about genetics. Change this genome sequence with this sequence and you’ll boost active brain capacity by 7.34 percent. But where mechanical technicians seemed particularly interested in customization and uniqueness, geneticists too frequently focused their efforts on purity and homogeneity.

That thought pulled Tyl out of her reverie and she realized that her tea was empty. With her friends occupied by their task, she slipped back into the ship to grab another cup of tea.

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Jerek Zenduu"]​

 

[Jerek Zenduu]

"A GPS system could really help," the teen mused, thinking back to times when it could have done just that. Some of the traffic patterns at places like Denon or Alderaan were just flat-out stupid, as if the worlds delighted in making themselves hard to visit. Jerek was glad he had a future as a Jedi, the time he had wasted sitting in traffic queues had given him plenty of time to come up with convoluted torture techniques for control tower operators that would never be used.

Torture techniques? Jerek blinked at his own mental admission. He needed to spend less time around darksiders.

Climbing up onto the wing to crouch near Sor-Jan, the padawan reached into the cockpit to grab the datapad that sat alongside the seat. He opened it, tapping back to the screen he wanted, and then handed it to the master. "I asked if I could download the specs when I was a Rannon, it was a little dry for me to make out, but I got the gist of it on the way over."

Seating himself on the wing surface, Jerek let SJ flip through the schematics for a while before remarking, "So, the gist is, I really don't know. I tried looking up a few ideas for the power plant and stuff, I saw a Koensayr STZ-35A available on this habitat, but I wasn't sure if that would be compatible with the Santhe parts or the fit in the engine well."

He considered that for a few moments more, letting his gaze wander around the open-air spaceport. He felt a breeze on his face, and looked up, expecting to see a sky and suns above him. Yet all he saw was the other side of the comet's interior, paved with the same kind of dense cityscape that existed around the spaceport. The Jedi teen's mind struggled to comprehend the nature of the habitat, how there could be the kind of air currents in an artificial environment to create an occasional breeze. He would have expected a mechanical system to regulate the environment, but it felt no different to him than a warm summer's day back on Ossus.

"It's obvious that I'm out of my element here. I'm just coming up with ideas, I'll trust what you say about making them happen." With that acknowledgement, Jerek slid off the fighter and slipped back onto the —floor? his head was still in a weird space about Karina's Jewel— ground, ready to assist SJ if he needed it. The padawan looked around for Master Ro, but the Kaminoan Jedi had slipped off without his notice, so he made himself useful by popping open a panel on the wing in front of him to study the weapons system inside. Maybe he had absorbed enough of the schematics on the way over to make sense of something.

[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] | [member="Tyl Ro"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

So that was a yes to the navigation system.

The short legs were tucked inside of the cockpit. A short while later, the Anzat's head poked out over the side of the cockpit, before the youngling knight came scrambling down from out of the starfighter. In his head, Sor-Jan was composing everything that he was going to need for this job. He seemed to be counting on his fingers as he walked past Jerek, muttering to himself.

The blue colored BB unit rolled over by his feet, giving a series of bleeps and whistles as it went rolling along beside him as the boy crossed back toward the Corellian light freighter.

Making his way up the boarding ramp to the Alderaan Queen, Sor-Jan passed around toward the maintenance shop. Pulling down a satchel bag, the boy started assembling an at hoc toolbox. There was the obligatory multitool, a handful of hex clamps, a shipjacker of dubious origin and legality, and a power calibrator.

He emerged from out of the Alderaan Queen a few moments later, twirling a servodriver in one hand as he casually strolled back toward the Jedi starfighter.

He was just a Corellian mechanic on a mission to do what Corellian mechanics were born to do.

Void warranties.

[member="Jerek Zenduu"] | [member="Tyl Ro"]​