[TKO] Radio Outback

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The YT light freighter drifted along the edge of the terminus disk.

The Episol System was the 'bread basket' of the Kathol Republic, with Dayark being the crown jewel of the local sector. If the TKO was going to start winning over hearts and minds in the Outback, good relations with the Dayark was going to be essential. Especially as the TKO looked for allies against the Qektoth Confederacy.

"Stand by the landing claw, BeeFour."

Communication was going to be a key part of improving the quality of life out here in the utter boondocks of the Outer Rim. Many things which the Core Worlds took for granted simply didn't exist out here. Access to the HoloNets, reliable subspace radio communications, and emergency services just to name a few. And some people didn't realize how all of those things were actually interdependent on one another.

Easing the Alderaan Queen into a slow, distant orbit around the Episol star, the young Jedi Master was carefully positioning the freighter to deploy one of Corellia Digital's communications satellites. The CD-9J Subspace Relay Station. An independent, orbital comsat beacon that would provide coverage over a hundred lightyears. Triangulating signals with the other two relay stations they had already dropped at key positions along the Epistol orbit, it should provide regular and guaranteed access to subspace communications throughout the sector.

Which meant that it would also guarantee access to the emergency channels that were now being monitored by TKO Search and Rescue, as part of the civil services and emergency management that people like [member="Alec Rekali"] were now introducing into this frontier of space.

The beacons could also serve as a sort of early-warning system as well, picking up transmissions and subspace chatter which might alert the TKO to Qektoth fleet movements, or even the arrival of the First Order. Gods forbid that should ever happen.

"Steady... let it go," Sor-Jan said, talking through the ship's internal comm to the BB unit that was operating the grappling claw. There was a mechanical whine as the actuators were released, setting the relay station adrift along the distant magnetic ebb of the star's gravitational field.

"Well, that's one down," the boy remarked, glancing over at his co-pirate. "Set a course for Bresan... and let's hope the shields are working."

The small Anzat had every idea that the Pimbrellan League were going to be less than receptive to what the TKO was trying to do here.

Bryce and Judah had both volunteered to help with the deployment of the satellites as well, which the small Anzat had been able to assemble with some materials that Judah had been able to import in. With Corellia Digital headquartered on Drall, it'd be another five months before any of the supplies Sor-Jan had requested arrived. And his facilities on Voss were even further away, since they had to loop up the hyperlanes toward the Core before they could drop down through Galactic Alliance space toward Kel'Shebbol.

This would all be easier if they could map a solid hyperspace route from Exocron to Voss. But that was going to be a major feat for even someone like [member="Jorus Merrill"].

[member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Judah Dashiell"] | @TKO​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

This part of space was boring.

It didn't even look like they were in a solar system. There weren't even any planets he could see!

"Okay," the small Mandalorian boy said, crawling down from where he'd been looking out the window and plopping down into the co-pilot seat so that he could activate the Clan Rekali navi-computer that the Queen had bolstered since it's overhaul on Voss.

Unlike the Jedi beside him, Three actually looked forward to notion of getting shot it. Because it meant that he could shoot back! Seriously, the best seat in the house was definitely the turret gunner's seat. It was just hard deciding if you wanted the dorsal or ventral turrett. Especially since there wasn't any up or down in space.

They had some map updates from the Rekali lady. Which, the navi-computer brand was also called Rekali. Were they related? How could a person be related to a navi-computer though? That was dumb.

In any case, the youngling found a listing for Bresan and keyed it in. "Can we play Mynock Island after we're in hyperspace?" the boy asked, as the navi-computer began crunching the data for a course computation. The benefit to the Clan Rekali technology was that the Queen wouldn't need to drop out of hyperspace in order to verify their galactic coordinates. They'd just stay in hyperspace the whole ride to Bresan, barring something going wrong. But even an interdictor field wouldn't normally interfere with the Lucerne Labs hyperdrive.

The navi-computer signaled a chime, prompting the Anzat at the helm to throttle back the hyperdrive controls.

And away they went.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Hyperspace...

The boy picked up a plate of chocolate chip cookies from out of the autochef.

They weren't the same thing as fresh cookies. They were just pre-packaged Famous Amorris cookies, flash frozen for long-term storage, then thawed and warmed for use. Walking the plate over from the galley to the crew lounge, the small Anzat set the plate down next to where the BB unit and the Mandalorian clone were playing The Secret of Mynock Island on the HoloStation 4.

Taking a cookie from off the plate, the young Jedi made his way through the interior of the small freighter toward the cargo bay.

One of the nice things about it just being the two of them, the Alderaan Queen didn't seem very small. It was more than enough room for the two younglings. The trip to Exocron, when all of the cabins had been filled with guests, the ship had felt very small and cramped.

Taking a bite out of the cookie, the boy wandered inside of the cargo area as the doors parted for him. With his free hand, the boy made an upward motion. As he did, a number of large, metal components rose from off the deck. Reaching up, the boy held the cookie in his mouth as he used both hands to swipe the HoloLink he wore on his left wrist. He'd been working on composing a message for [member="Noriko Ike"], his former padawan who was somewhere in the Mid-Rim, toward the Silver Sanctum.

It would take six months to a year for the Jedi Knight to get the message, if she got it at all, but that was part of what he was working to try and remedy. If he could install enough of these subspace beacons, then the Kathol Sector could connect with the HoloNet relays of the Galactic Alliance, which, in turn, linked back to the Expansion Region and Core Worlds. It would unite the frontier of the galaxy with universal community in a way that had never been done before.

Taking the cookie back from out of his mouth, the child took a bite and then picked back up where he'd left off earlier. "So, anyway, there was this Zeltron on the Exocron trip that you wouldn't have believed," the boy remarked aloud, talking into the recorder that was assembling the dictated letter for Noriko. The metal pieces hovering in the air changed places, as various parts aligned and connected as the boy intricately began to weave together the components of a relay power core. "Her name was Perl or Pearl or Paal... [member="Joza Perl"] maybe..? I don't remember... I just recall that, I don't think she was sober at any point in the expedition."

If he ever entered another Corellian Sabaac-Drinking Tournament, he was definitely wanted her for his team.

Also, what happens at Corellian Sabaac-Drinking Tournaments stays at Corellian Sabaac-Drinking Tournaments. He knew absolutely nothing about why he was wanted on Malastare. No, seriously, he knew nothing. At least, nothing after the third shot of... whatever they'd been shooting. But, that had been a long time ago. Like, before the Clone Wars. So, he was sure the Malastarians had forgotten all about... whatever that was.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Being a Clone Trooper, Three was used to having it rough.

But, now, and he knew this was First World Youngling Problems, he was finding it a little difficult not to pout about the fact that he really wanted to play World of Build-a-Bear Knights. Except World of Build-a-Bear Knights required a HoloNet connection to play, and there wasn't a HoloNet connection for a hundred lightyears! Plus, when they did pick up a HoloNet connection, the bitrate was crap and he just lagged -- even when he was in open world!

He didn't even want to think what would happen if he tried to visit a starport or metropolis...

Who wanted to live out here in this crummy Kathol Sector anyway? No HoloNet meant no HoloToons, no HoloGames, no nothing! Now, he could go outside and play Grav-Ball with the best of them. He'd even done it on Omwat with a ball that had been completely deflated, but - at some point - even he was going to crash in front of the HoloStation and want something to entertain him as they sat in hyperspace for however long.

It wasn't like he could play in-door Grav-Ball. The Queen was too small. Except for the cargo bay, but SJ had taken that over so he build... stuff.

Three just hoped that by the time the Anzat was done, he'd be able to get a HoloNet connection worth a Hutt.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The cargo bay of a YT-2400 was only so big.

Most of the assembly for the relay station would have to be done outside of the ship. Which meant a spacewalk.

Which also meant the need to be in neutral enough space that they didn't have to worry about someone coming up and blasting them while he was outside doing construction. Unfortunately, this was the Kathol Outback. While relations were good with the Kathol Republic, the Pinacists of the Pimbrellan League were a little more xenophobic in their relations with outsiders. Not necessarily hostile, but definitely not welcoming. And then there was the Qektoth Confederacy, which was hostile.

The decision to place a subspace beacon within the worlds of the League was a rather strategic move. By placing the beacon between Bresan and Dolstan, the hundred lightyear coverage provided by the beacon ought to have enough reach as to cover the worlds of the Pimbrellan League should they chose to make use of it. And it would provide coverage for a large swath of the Marcol Void. By connecting the lines of communication back to the beacons they'd just placed around the Kathol Republic, it ought to allow ships in distress as far as the Void to reach back to the TKO Search and Rescue teams operated by Doctor [member="Bryce Bantam"].

It wasn't a complete emergency network. Not yet anyway. They would still need to place a beacon at the other end of the Sebiris Run to fully cover the Marcol Void. And only when they'd linked back to the Trition Trade Route and Kal'Shebbol would they have comprehensive coverage of the sector. Which, didn't sound like a lot, except that these subspace beacons required a great deal of sensitive electronics and equipment. Using the supplies he'd brought with him, and others he'd gathered from [member="Judah Dashiell"], the boy only had enough to construct one more beacon.

It'd be another six months before additional supplies from Corellia Digital arrived, and the plan was to start work at the Kal'Shebbol end and work down toward the Marcol Void.

Even when that was done, other than the core trio of satellites in the Kathol Republic, these outlying stations would be single operators. That meant that a malfunction, solar activity, or any number of environmental factors could disrupt or take the station off-line. And with no redundancy to replace it or maintain stability on the network.

Building infrastructure out here on the frontier was hard.

Building redundancy was going to be a lifetime of work...

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The Sebiris Run
Kathol Sector Hyperlane
Somewhere between Bresan & Dolstan

Despite what they might tell you, all Clone Troopers weren't actually the same.

They were all clones of Jango Fett, yes. They had that much in common. But their genetic codes had been altered to accentuate or suppress different parts of that individual in order to create not the perfect soldier, but rather soldiers designed around a set of predetermined qualities for a specific purpose. There were Clone Commandos, Clone Demolition or EOD Teams.

The 3X series, for example, were intended for use as Airborne Assault Clone Troopers. So, it should be no surprise that 3X744 had been training his whole life to be an airborne ranger, which could mean assignment to a variety of duties; including airborne search-and-rescue. This meant that his training focused on jump training, land navigation, survival, and first aid. But, focusing on any one area meant omitting another part of training. In his case, or rather, in the case of the 3X series that was zero-G combat training.

Space walks were an absolute deal breaker for a 3X clone.

So, while the Jedi did his space walk thing... Three was where he belonged. The heavy laser turret of the Alderaan Queen, where he could observe SJ working and keep an eye on the ships sensors in case a Qektoth battleship or Pimbrellan corvette approached while Sor-Jan was out on a space walk.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Space.

The final frontier.

Suited up in a space suit that had originally been designed for a Tynnan, and then tailored to fit the Anzat's stature and build, the young Jedi was boldly floating where no youngling had ever floated before.

The cargo doors of the YT-2400 were open, the Jedi Master gently taking hold of the materials as gestured with both, thickly gloved hands while, in his mind's eye, he was visualizing each piece and how it would come together. The parts of the power core he'd earlier begun assembling each lined up. The thermal and electromagnetic shielding drifting over the three batteries as the core snapped together. A rough outline of the satellite was beginning to take shape and form, like a skeleton appearing from out of the cloud of debris.

In the vacuum of space, it was not a labor intensive work to move this volume of materials. Without the resistance of gravity, even the largest piece was akin to moving a feather. The only work being to pull against a mass moving under inertia, but there was nothing moving with such speed as to challenge a Jedi trained at lifting four Muntuur Stones.

It was, however, still a time-consuming job.

He'd brought two spare air capsules with him for the rebreather. He was already more than halfway through the first one, and the structure itself still wasn't complete. Even once all of the coverings were in place, there was still the matter of bringing the satellite on-line, calibrating the antennae, and then linking it with the Kathol Republic network.

He'd ask to get paid overtime for this, except he already knew [member="Jon Jon Nemo"] would say 'no.'

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The young Mandalorian gave a large yawn.

Emerging from out of the refresher, the boy stretched before he brought a hand up to rub at his eyes. SJ had seriously been outside the ship for hours. Three had taken a bathroom break from the turret and was now taking the scenic route back. Passing by the galley, the boy got himself a can of Cherry Fizzyglug from out of the autochef, and then looked over options for dinner.

Standing on top of the kitchen counter on his knees, the small youngling was just starting to program the autochef to prepare a pair of gorba melt sandwiches when he heard a sound echoing through the ship.

...was that BB-4? What was he whistling about?

Hopping down from the kitchen counter, the clone jogged back to the ladderwell and slid down into the lower turret. "I'm in, I'm in!" the boy shouted, as he used one hand to bring up the tactical sensors and the other to don a headset.

Contact.

As the boy kicked back into the gunner's chair, cycling through the start-up for the heavy laser turret, a blip showed up on his read-out. Adjusting the sensor gain, the small clone scrutinized the data on the small screen in front of him. It wasn't moving toward them. It was just... drifting.

Close enough to know they were there. "Bee-Four, what is it?" the boy asked, swiveling the turret around so that it faced the general direction of the unknown contact. Whatever it was, it was too distant for him to see. Granted, he wasn't a Clone Marksman, but even as he squinted... Three couldn't make anything out against the usual backdrop of space.

A short series of bleeps came through the ear piece. Whoever they were, their IFF wasn't broadcasting. The display near his leg had a more detailed translation of the droidspeak. The ship wasn't broadcasting an identicode known to the Queen's main computer, but the Clan Rekali navi-computer was pinging the ship as a Pimbrellan League contact.

Well, it wasn't doing anything. Not right now, anyway.

Still, he didn't like that SJ was outside while that thing was floating around. Toggling Sor-Jan's comlink, Three switched channels as he asked, "Hey, SJ, how much longer?"

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The interior of his helmet was starting to fog up from the perspiration.

The small Anzat looked down to check his air. He was on his last O2 canister, and he'd already consumed a good portion of that. He had the covers on the solar panels, and teh base station energized. So now it was just a matter of getting the antennae aligned and the network configurations...

"Hey, SJ, how much longer?"

Something was wrong. "A few minutes to troubleshoot the connections..." the boy answered calmly, even as he raised his eyes and scanned the area around the ship for just what he was missing. Patience was something the clones had in spades, so Three wouldn't have asked that question unless there was a reason.

But, he also hadn't warned him of any danger. So there must not have been a risk...

Someone was watching them.

...and Three had probably just caught on to that. "I should have it complete soon," the small Anzat offered, as he pulled himself between the solar shields and drifted to the main body of the satellite station. Pulling open a maintenance cover, the boy brought the antennae online and began running through the start-up sequence. Once the onboard operating system was working, he could start searching for a connection.

As for the watchers on the wall, he'd anticipated this might happen when they'd come out here. The Pimbrellan League were apt to just watch. In the most likely scenario, based on their Pinacist society, they wouldn't disrupt the sat-link. They would use it.

It would allow them the keep an eye on what the Underground was doing in the Kathol Outback. Which was fine, as it allowed the TKO Search and Rescue emergency coverage of this sector. That ought to be a win-win.

And, who knew, maybe once the Pimbrellan League got a glimpse of what was happening in the Kathol Sector, they'd make the choice to stop merely watching history unfold and actually be part of it for a change.

Not bloody likely, but no one ever said optimism was a bad thing.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

The young clone folded his arms over his chest and pushed himself back into the chair.

"I should have it complete soon."

Soon.

Hmph. Jedi were entirely too flippant about unknown threats. Toggling over to the other channel, the small Mandalorian boy cut the Jedi out of the conversation. "Start spinnin' up the hyperdrive, Bee-Four," Three remarked.

Normally, a Clone Trooper was more of a do-er and less of a thinker-er, but Three had learned that sometimes what people called 'common sense' required that a Clone Trooper not wait for orders before taking action. "An' tell the Rekali to plot a course back to Rebellion Actual."

That way they'd be ready to go as soon as SJ was back on the ship.

In the meantime, the boy looked at the sensor contact and started tracking it on the targeting board. Whatever that thing was, it had his full attention for while they were here.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

He heard the slight change in the earlink as the other end disconnected.

Three had switched back to the internal communications grid within the Queen. If they were betting, the clone was having the astromech prepare for a hyperspace jump. Not a decision that the small Jedi would necessarily question, though it was - perhaps - overly cautious. Then again, you could take the Clone Trooper out of the war, but you couldn't take the war out of the Clone Trooper. Three was bred to be cautious.

His last air canister was down to fumes. The re-circulating nature of the rebreather ought to give him a few more minutes of air however. As the boy entered the last code sequence into the manual interface, the relay station came to life. It was only a three second delay before the initial pulse scan returned a signal, which in turn enabled a connection.

HoloNet feed from the Kathol Republic was now broadcast as far as the Marcol Void, and extended for the Pimbrellan League to monitor at their convenience. As they would most likely be rather eager to do.

Replacing the maintenance cover, the young Anzat pushed off from the body of the station. Sailing between the solar panels, the boy drifted through space toward the YT-series freighter that was a mere spec against the black void space. A few telekinetic adjustments to his flightpath guided the boy straight up into the open cargo bay.

Floating through the air, the small boy made his way over to hit the door and airlock controls. As the heavy freight elevator retracted into docking position, and the doors slammed shut, the wash of red lighting was replaced with amber as the gravity was restored. As the boy's boots hit the deck, the room was being re-pressurized by the life support systems until the amber light turned green.

Breaking the seal on his helmet, the young Anzat gasped as he breathed in the ship's air.

...then staggered back onto his butt as the deck plates shifted beneath him.

The Queen had just jumped to lightspeed.

So, his earlier assumption as to what the clone had been doing had been right. Picking himself up, the Jedi began dressing down out of the space suit. He supposed he ought to ask just where they were going, but he'd honestly rather ask what was for dinner. He'd skipped lunch working out on the subspace relay.