Private Renatasia Rearmed

[Council of Captains]

Ringneldia II, Industrial Sector Twelve Grek

Of all the planets in the backwater Centrality, Ringneldia II came closest to having an industrial capacity that could actually compete on the galactic market. Much of the planet's surface was covered in smog-belching factories, all churning out the various goods that kept life in the Centrality liveable. As far as export beyond local space, however, the planet's colonists had hamstrung themselves countless generations ago, when they had chosen a system of measurement. Centimeters would have been too simple, apparently, because they had chosen to standardize everything around the diameter of a native bean. That pretty much killed all demand for their products. Too confusing to figure out.

Some groups, however, weren't too picky. The Renatasians, militant and cautious with good reason after a long history of being brutally suppressed by invading governments, didn't much care if the guns they bought were built with bean-based measurements; all that mattered to them was that they put holes in their enemies. The fact that the Centran government, one of the many groups that had oppressed them in the past, had recently passed a law banning exports of weaponry to the Renatasia system hadn't discouraged them, but it had forced them to pay more. As far as the smugglers of the Centrality were concerned, all that making the arms trade illegal had done was to make it more profitable.

Hidden among the maze of factories and loading docks was a landing pad quietly coopted by the Spinward Syndicate. A Gran foreman stood on the pad, eight sealed durasteel crates sitting beside him. His three eyes nervously scanned the back alley, watching for police patrols or corporate agents. Smuggling forty light repeaters was substantial arms trafficking; if the authorities could prove their destination was a prohibited system, he could do twenty years of hard time for "aiding and abetting a known terror group". The sooner the smuggler that the Syndicate had hired arrived and got those guns offworld, the better. He had enough trouble forging factory inventories so that the guns weren't missed.

Of course, he didn't envy the smuggler. The spacelanes were dangerous these days, and pirates would love to get their hands on this cargo...

Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

The Blue Lightning sputtered when I exited hyperspace. I’m glad I took this job. Finally, the needed repairs can be made. I have done some stuff like this before, but this one could give me the most hard time. Prison did not sound like a fun place to be as a sixteen year old.

Flying down to the planet, I looked upon the darkness of it. It just had a feel to it.

“Well, this looks like a lovely place.”

I guided my ship along, flying through the flight lanes. The supplier gave me a very vague location in where to go. Probably for his safety. Or mine.

Finally, I found the landing pad. Standing there was a single person, eight crates, plus a couple of security droids. Positioning the Blue Lightning for landing, it touched down with a soft thud.

While putting on my armor, I thought about what I could purchase with the credits. Some new landing gear? A couple of fine guns? Maybe even a speeder bike.

The hatch door hissed open. In front of me was a three-eyed alien, waiting. Waking down the ramp, I waited for him to talk.

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

The Gran looked sidelong at the newcomer walking down the ramp. He had been told to expect a young human, but it was impossible to tell anything about the smuggler under his armor, age and species included. The black marketeer shrugged. The ship fit the description he'd been given, and it looked very much like a smuggling vessel - fast, covert, and heavily modified. Besides, he didn't have time to ask too many questions. The longer he waited out here, the harder it would be to explain his absence from the factory office if anyone noticed.

"You're the transporter, then?" The Gran shrugged, not waiting for an answer. "Let's get these loaded so we can both get out of here." A pair of loadlifter droids scooped up the stacks of crates, taking four each, and trundled toward the cargo ramp of the Blue Lightning. "It's a straight shot across the Centrality from here to Renatasia," the black marketeer continued, handing Okkeus a datapad. "There are no major hyperlanes between here and there, so you'll have to do your own astrogation, or use a droid. Here are the most recent charts, for your calculations."

On a landing pad three stories above, a door slid open, and the Gran tensed. After a few seconds of waiting in silence, the door opened and closed again. "Better hurry before customs or corporate security takes an interest in your ship," the Gran said, looking anxiously back toward the factory door. "Watch out for pirates. Since you'll be off the official hyperlanes, there are no Centran patrols between here and Renatasia III. It's a pirate's wonderland out there. Hope you're ready for anything, because there are a lot of vicious, desperate people around these days."

Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

I watched as the loader droids moved the weapons onto my ship. They just set them down, right in the open. That will get fixed later.

Looking at the data load the merchant gave me, I pondered my path. Looking at the data pad, I saw that pirate attacks had happened all up and down the area. And that was just in the last few hours.

A door opened overhead. The merchant tensed, but then calmed when the door closed. I better get out of here fast.

Once the loader droids were off the ship, I bid the merchant fair well with a half-wave. Walking up the cargo ramp, I pulled down the huge hidden storage area with the wave of my hand. Lifting the containers with the other, I set them down gently. No point to damage the cargo. With the door shut, the smuggling run could commence. I climbed up to the control panel. Sitting in my chair, I took my armor off. Now just in my Jedi robe, the ship began to take off.

Flying probably way to fast out of the area, I entered space. In front of me was a whole lot of nothing. Setting the course into my NAV system, the ship took off. Whatever the journey may bring, I will be ready. Hopefully.

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

Most of the Centrality was connected by the Cadma Conduit, running from galactic north to galactic south, and the Falko Run, running from galactic west to galactic east. All major inhabited worlds in the region were on one of the two routes, with only one real exception: Okkeus's destination, Renatasia III. The Renatasia System sat at the edge of the Open Sea, a vast region totally empty of planets or stars. Overshooting the system could strand a starship in the Open Sea, where freighters that ran out of power or fuel could drift in silence forever.

As the Blue Lightning leapt into hyperspace, though, it looked like the calculations were solid. The Gran contact had given good, recently updated coordinates, account for galactic drift patterns. It ought to have been a relatively quick and straight shot down to Renatasia III, riding a minor but stable hyperlane, and for the first several hours it was. The blue tunnel of hyperspace churned beyond the cockpit window, the ship hummed contentedly, and the destination grew slowly but surely closer. But in times like these, there were no blue milk runs.

Three hours in, proximity alarms blared in the Blue Lightning's cockpit - there was a mass shadow directly in the hyperlane. Automatic failsafes took over, and the freighter dropped out of hyperspace... and into the middle of nowhere. There was no nearby star, nothing on the charts, just a massive asteroid smack dab in the way. It was an old pirate tactic that every smuggler new and feared: someone had moved the asteroid there deliberately, to force incoming ships out of hyperspace so that they could be disabled, boarded, and robbed.

Sure enough, the Blue Lightning's comms crackled to life a moment later. The holoimage of a hulking, black-furred Defel appeared over the console, its batlike snout drawn back in a sharp-toothed grimace. The so-called "wraiths", known for their ability to blend into the shadows, were one of many species displaced or slaughtered by the genocidal campaigns of the Bryn'adul. "Throttle back your engines and prepare to be boarded," the Defel snarled. "Your ship and cargo are now ours. If you don't resist, we'll let you keep your limbs."

Four modified Z-95 headhunters emerged from behind the asteroid, escorting a heavily armed YV-929 freighter. All had their weapons charged... including the freighter's concussion missile tubes and ion cannons. It was a small band of pirates, probably no more than twenty of them counting the boarding crew on the YV-929, but they were well-organized and well-equipped. In order to get away, Okkeus would have to either find some way to destroy them all or evade them long enough to redo his hyperspace calculations and jump back to lightspeed.

Unless the young smuggler-Jedi could think of some other solution...

Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

“Blast!”

These pirates weren’t messing around. And I was in some real trouble this time. As the Z-96s approached closer, my hands danced across the control panel.

“Computer!”

“Yes Okkeus?”

“Jump to hyperspace, now!”

“But Sir, no specific location is set.”

“JUST JUMP!”

I could see Z-95’s lasers firing up, but it quickly faded to blue and white light. I made out there in time. The Blue Lightning exited hyperspace, with a single planet in front of him.

“Computer, how far away are we from our destination?”

“Approximately 7 hours and 52 minutes with no interstellar traffic.”

Blast. Now I was way off target. But where the nerf am I now?

“Computer...where are we?”

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

A blind jump was one of the more dangerous maneuvers a pilot could attempt. The galaxy was vast and ever-changing; star systems orbited the galactic core just as planets orbited their suns, the four arms of known space eternally moving in their spiral dance. As stars shifted position and interstellar debris drifted, a jump that was off by a fraction of a degree could send a starship careening into a catastrophic collision. Perhaps worse, it could cause hyperdrive damage that would strand the ship and its unfortunate pilot in deep space forever.

But then, most of space was empty. Chances were decent that there would be no such disaster, and those odds had favored Okkeus.

The Blue Lightning had emerged at the edge of a huge debris field. Between the ship and the distant, blueish star at the center of this system - uncharted, without even a name, as far as the ship's computer could tell - lay a field of jagged asteroids. The massive rocks, some of them easily four times the size of the Blue Lightning, spun slowly through space in a lazy, unhurried dance. Perhaps they were the remains of a now-vanished moon, or even an entire planet, torn apart by meteor impacts or gravitational forces or who knew what.

As Okkeus watched, he noticed huge shapes flitting among the asteroids. Any spacer could recognize them: they were purrgil, sometimes called "space whales", strange creatures capable of natural hyperspace travel. Although not deliberately dangerous, they were curious, and could cause terrible damage to starships by crashing into them. For now, though, they were distant, hardly an immediate threat. Okkeus would have enough time to check his fuel levels and, hopefully, calculate a path that could get him back on track to Renatasia.

Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

“Purrgils!”

Such amazing creatures. I have only seen them a few times, and they always bring a smile to my face.

Stepping away from the control panel, I headed down to the engine bay. Checking the computers, the engines were fine. And so were the fuel levels. Looking around at the cargo, it seemed fine as well.

“Well, everything seems to be okay. Better get a move on.”

Going back to the control panel, I plugged in the coordinates into the computer. Flicking some switches and pressing a couple of buttons, the ship lurched into hyperspace. What new challenge awaits me next.

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

Launching once more into hyperspace, the Blue Lightning left the uncharted system and its mysteries behind.

The next eight hours passed uneventfully; the path from wherever Okkeus had ended up to Renatasia was unknown and unexplored, without any opportunities for interception, so there were no further interruptions in his lightspeed journey. This was the part of any smuggling run that left pilots with downtime. Some loved the peacefulness of drifting through hyperspace, alone in their ships, masters of their own paths and destinies. Others hated the boredom, passing the time with solo Pazaak games or downloaded holovids.

Whatever the young smuggler's feelings on the tranquil transit, it was over soon enough. The Blue Lightning dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the Renatasia system. Eight planets drifted around the bright yellow sun, the closest ones molten before its heat, the outer worlds frozen by distance. Only Renatasia III and Renatasia IV had ever been settled, reached by colony ships from Grizmallt some five thousand years ago. The culture that had developed there had been unique and fiercely independent, clashing often with Centran authorities.

The cargo of weapons was destined for Renatasia III, the larger of the two colonies. It was a placid blue-green jewel hanging in space, a fertile agri-world that provided its people with bountiful food. It was also a world perpetually under threat, and these weapons would help defend it - though the Centrality's leaders would no doubt claim that the guns would end up in the hands of anti-government terrorists. As the Blue Lightning approached, however, there was no greeting; the starport's comms were mysteriously silent.

As a matter of fact, all channels were silent. That could only mean one thing: a communications jammer.

Suddenly, one frequency jumped to life. "I told you boys," the Defel pirate's voice crackled, "Renatasia was the only place he could be going." He addressed his next words to Okkeus. "Thought you gave us the slip, huh, sleemo? Well, guess what, we knew where you'd end up. Nowhere for you to go this time! We've got you now." As he spoke, Okkeus could see the modified freighter and the four Z-95s closing in from the left. They were between him and Renatasia III... between him and the payday that awaited on the planet below.

The pirates, with a more direct route, had arrived ahead of him. Only some fancy flying could save the Blue Lightning now...

Okkeus Dainlei ​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

This wasn't good. In fact, this is probably one of the farthest possible ways this situation could have been from good. Opening up the commas, I tired to contact the Pirates.

"C'mon guys, we can work something out. Can't we? I'm just a insignificant little spacer trying to make a few credits. So why attack me?"

A growl filled my comms. Guess reasoning with the didn't work. Many solutions ran through my head. Should I left them have the cargo? Should I go down in A Blaze Of Glory? Or should I...no. Bad idea. Probably the worst idea. The worst idea that might work. But it won't. But I could. Should I? Why not.

"BOLTS!"

The little droid awoke from its resting position and flew over. Hovering directly in front of my face, I told him my plan. The really stupid, very dangerous plan.

"Listen, Bolts, you can fly this thing right? Becuase right now there is a lot of bad guys out there that are trying to kill us. So you better be able to fly this. Ok?"

The little droid buzzed its reply and flew over to the control panel. An extension extended form his arm and plugged into the controls. The lights flickered on and off, but he was connected. The is a stupid plan.

"Listen to me very carefully. Turning on the cloaking device on my command. Fly down to Renatasia III and I'll meet you there. Got it?"

The droid replied as I hurried down the hallway. Jumping down the ladder hatch, I quickly went over to my covered X-Wing. Throwing the tarps off of it, I climbed into the cockpit. Flicking levers and pressing buttons, the ship sputtered to life. Pressing the data pad in my left arm, the hatch opened in front of me. I flew out of there, my s-foils locking into attack position. Looking back, I saw Bolts and the Blue Lighting descending toward the planet. The four Z-95s were closing in fast.

"C'mon Jedi and Pilot training, don't let me down now."

Punching the throttle, I sped toward the oncoming fighters.

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

For any ordinary pilot, taking on four enemy fighters and a transport at once would be near suicidal. But Okkeus was no ordinary pilot.

The Defel screamed in rage as the Blue Lightning vanished from sight and sensors, streaking invisibly down toward Renatasia III. "I don't know what trick you're pulling," the batlike alien snarled over the comms, "but it'll be the last one you ever try. We gave you a chance to surrender. Time's up, and you're dead." The four Z-95s screamed in toward Okkeus's X-Wing, their pilots eager for blood. As soon as they closed to within range, they opened fire, sending streaks of red out across the void in a deadly grid. It would take fancy flying to avoid them.

Meanwhile, the YV-929 was moving closer as well. It no longer had any reason to use its ion cannons - Okkeus's starfighter was too small to be carrying any valuable cargo. Instead it was charging its formidable laser cannons, ready to add to the stream of incoming fire directed at the young pilot. Fortunately, Okkeus had three advantages against it: it was slower, it was less maneuverable, and its concussion missiles had very little chance of hitting his small, nimble starfighter. Still, the freighter had been modified well, and its armor was strong.

If Okkeus wanted to take it down, he would have to wear down its shields and pierce that armor - no easy job for a starfighter.

Okkeus Dainlei ​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

The bolts of energy ripped past my cockpit. I could literally hear the whoosh of them as they went by.

"You're fine, everything is fine. Am I fine? Yes, I am totally fine."

Weaving back and forth, I began to do one of my favorite maneuvers. Ripping the control arm to the left, the X-Wing began to barrel fool. With a flick of a lever all of the weapons turned on. From there I punch the thrusters to full throttle. My head slammed against the headrest as I accelerated forward. The Z-95s all spread apart and away from my bolts, leaving me on a direct path toward the YV-929. All of the bolts with directly hitting the front, dealing lots of damage to the glass and armor. Heck, I even took out a gun!

Now, here is my favorite part. Looking behind me I could see the Z-95s chasing after me. The red bolts started appearing again on all sides of me.

"Yes, keep firing...keep firing..."

When I was within a few meters a the ship, I slammed the yolk downwards. The X-Wing dropped instantly. Fortunately, the Z-95s did not. Two of them made it out very narrowly. Another one veered hard to the right, scraping its wing on the hull as the blaster was torn to pieces. The last Z-95 turned left, but wasn't fast enough. The sleek fighter crashed into the left hull and blasters, creating a huge fireball of explosions.

"Yes! One down, two more to go."

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

"Gorvo, pull up, pull up!" But it was too late. One of the Z-95s, down a wing, spun wildly off into space, its pilot helpless to arrest its spin. The other slammed into the pirate freighter at full throttle, durasteel smashing against durasteel... until, milliseconds later, the force of the collision set off the little fighter's fuel reserves. The explosion vaporized the Z-95 instantly, and when the cloud of debris around it cleared, Okkeus could see that the damage to the YV-929 had also been severe - one of the freighter's decks had been ripped open, and several bodies had drifted out.

The Defel said nothing else, but Okkeus could sense his utter rage through the Force. As the two intact Z-95s closed in behind the X-Wing, opening fire again, the freighter made its move. It began launching concussion missiles - and they were set to detonate on proximity, not impact. Suddenly, Okkeus found himself flying through a field of explosions. Whenever he tried to turn away from a concussion missile burst, one of the Z-95s would be there, laser cannons blazing, trying to force him back into it. He could almost feel the heat through the cockpit.

The pirates were trying to herd him up against a nearby asteroid so that they could pin him down. If they succeeded, they'd blow him apart.

Okkeus Dainlei​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

"Woohoo!"

The Z-95 blew a massive hole in YV-929. This was perfect. All I had to do was take out the last to Headhunters, plus disable the frigate, and the job would be done. That was when my ship was blasted violently to the left.

"What in the he.."

I could finish my sentence. Another missle was heading directly for me. I slammed the control yoke down hard as the ship lurched downward. I narrowly missed the missle. And just like that, the two Z-95s were on my tail. I could sense that the two pilots were flying aggressively, trying to avenge their fallen crew. Good. Time to make them fly a little too aggressive.

Slowing my ship down I let the Headhunters get very close. When they were within a few meters, I punched the throttle. The chase was on. The Z-95s stayed right on my tail. Flying in every which direction, I couldn't shake them. Looking to my right, I saw another missle was fired. Turning the ship, I flew directly for it. They Headhunters followed. Seconds before the missle hit me, I pulled back the throttle. My ship stopped dead in its tracks while the two Z-95/ flew right past. I fired my guns at the missle, setting it off. One ship blew up immediately, while to second one sustained engine damage as it fleed. My X-Wing was shot backwards butt-first, giving me a perfect shot on the last ship. I fired the guns as the bolts collided. The ship blew up in a graceful explosion.

Now, it was just me and the damaged YV-929 left. Opening my comms, I spoke to the frigate. A smile covered my face.

"Your move."

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

The pirates didn't respond to Okkeus's transmission. Maybe they were too awed by his amazing display of piloting. Maybe they were too angry at the loss of their ships and comrades. Or maybe they were too afraid that they would be next. Whatever the truth, there was a long moment's silence from the damaged YV-929. Then the armed freighter turned, blurred, and streaked away into hyperspace. The fight was over. A cloud of debris drifted around Okkeus's X-Wing, the last remnants of the battle.

Just then, a panicked voice crackled over the young pilot's comms. "H... hey, man, this was... this was a bad idea, I'm sorry, we were desperate..." It was the pilot of the Z-95 that had lost a wing when it had scraped the YV-929; apparently its cockpit was still intact, though it was drifting out of control, its engines dead. "Please don't just leave me up here, I don't wanna die like this... I'll pay you everything I have, just don't leave me up here to suffocate..." Okkeus could hear the terror in the man's voice. Death by slow failure of life support systems was a nasty way to go.

Of course, Renatasia III and the end of Okkeus's contracted mission was only minutes away. He could just leave...

Okkeus Dainlei ​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

"Hold that thought."

Muting my opening comms, I tried to contact Bolts.

"Did you deliver the cargo?"

droid noises

"Well, good, becuase I need you back up here."

droid noises

Unmuting my open comms, I spoke to the pilot. I could hear vey faint shivers from his side. Through the force I could sense his fear of death.

"So tell me, why did you and your crew attack my ship? And also, tell me your name."

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

The smuggling run was done; Okkeus could see that bolts had made the delivery, and the credits had been transferred to his account.

What remained was the aftermath of the battle, and the lone surviving pirate. "M... my name is Orvan," the Z-95 pilot began. "I'm from Kegan. I used to be a corporate shuttle pilot. When the Bryn'adul came, they destroyed... everything. Killed everyone. I was off-planet, making a shuttle run, when I found out that... that there was no home to go back to." His voice broke, and it took him a moment to compose himself. "Everyone I knew was dead. I ended up on the streets on Erilnar, begging for food along with millions of others."

Orvan blew out a long sigh. "When you live like that for a while, you forget everything except how hungry you are... and how angry. At everything. All of us would have taken any shot we could get at getting off the streets. I was lucky; this group of pirates, all of them pushed out of their homes by the Sith or the Bryn'adul like me, found out that I was a pilot. They offered me a chance to fly with them, steal cargo so that I could eat something other than the rotten food I found in garbage bins. I said yes."

There was a hard, bitter edge to the former shuttle pilot's voice, but also an undercurrent of regret. "I didn't really want to hurt anyone. Most of the freighters we intercepted surrendered. But I also figured that the galaxy had fethed me over, and if people who could cart around these big, valuable cargoes wanted to fight us to keep them, I had to do whatever was necessary to get what I needed to survive." Okkeus could hear hhis flight suit scrunch around his shoulders as he shrugged. "Didn't work out so hot. You were better than us."

There was a long pause. "Look, man, I don't wanna die, but if you're gonna kill me, at least blow me up so I don't just slowly suffocate."

Okkeus Dainlei ​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Thinking long about what the pilot said, I still couldn't make a decision. Should I help him out? He was trying to kill me a few minutes ago. Besides, if I help him, where do I take him? Letting out a heavy sigh, I opened my comms.

"Alright, listen here Orvan. You and me, we are somewhat the same. I have been down in the dumps before as well. Not a fun place to be. Now, I want to help you out. But if I sense ANY funny business, I won't hesitate to blast you to bits. Ok?"

"Ohhh...Okay..."

"Alright, listen very carefully: your ship still has some valuable parts on it. The hyperdrive looks intact, plus the engine. Maybe a couple of those blasters as well. I'm going to have you dock onto my ship. From there, you are going to come inside. I have a spare Dagger Class Fighter that is taking up space, and I'm not using it. I'll give you a jump to the nearest system, then I will give the ship and a some credits. But, you have to promise me your pirate days are over."

Council of Captains

 

[Council of Captains]

It was a generous act by Okkeus, not just to forgive but to provide a way to start again. The truth was that, in the Centrality, there were tens of millions of Orvans, tens of millions of people driven to desperation by the wars raging all around them. But as the former shuttle pilot blasted off in the Dagger-class Fighter that Okkeus had offered him, promising to never again try to rob anyone, there was a moment of hope for this one. Maybe he could change, even after his mistakes. Maybe, from this one act, the galaxy would be a little better off.

For his part, Okkeus had fulfilled his contract. The half-intact Z-95 would bring him a nice salvage bonus on top of what he'd gotten for delivering the guns, so he'd made a solid profit this trip. Just as good, he'd built his reputation as a smuggler who could be trusted to get the tough jobs done, pushing through the threats he'd faced and still getting his cargo delivered on time. Surely more work would come his way in the future. The credits would keep flowing, and he could keep flying. That was what made the galaxy go around.

A Jedi's mercy with a smuggler's profits... maybe Okkeus Dainlei had the best of both worlds figured out.

The End​

 

[Okkeus Dainlei]

OOC: Had lots of fun with this one. If you ever have any more contracts, please let me know!

Council of Captains