The Absolute limped towards the Santeeg Shipyards at a quarter power. Though still traversing hyperspace, the ship moved slower than if it was at full strength. The trip, impossible outside of hyperspace, was still going to take a long time. Three standard days instead of merely hours. Reidus Kain, for one, didn’t mind the extension. He sat at a table in the commissary with Fen Dolan and Solay Vardis, sipping a hard drink and staring at the wall. Yesterday, they had been fighting for their lives. Today, drinks with survivors. Friends. It was a strange life.
Monday, December 26, 2016
Booker found a direct interface on the side of the main computer console, and pulled out his extensible connection cable. It was a clumsy maneuver, as the interface panel was set low, below the keyboards and displays, so that mid-size astro-mech droids could connect more easily. Once connected, Booker stood and interacted with a key set on his wrist gauntlet. A small display inside his helmet showed exactly what he was perusing.
“Soldier?” It was Capra’s surrogate voice, coming through the speakers behind him.
Booker spun to look. The sound was startling in the new silence, the pulse of the energy transmitter no longer filling the room. The bacta tank remained, and Capra still floated, motionless. But something was different. Booker couldn’t move closer to see, but Capra’s eyes were focused, looking straight at the Imperial Marine.
Sunday, December 18, 2016
“Deflector power at 15-percent. Rerouting life-support to deflectors!”
Captain Sarcune curled his lip and pulled on his beard. The Absolute couldn’t take much more, but they had no target to fire upon. The enemy had somehow been able to essentially act like a one-ship fleet, pummeling The Star Destroyer from all sides. Apart from retreat, the only logical tactic was to either continue putting up diminishing defenses while waiting for an opening, or waste fire in a blind spray, hoping to get lucky. Sarcune did not believe in luck, but he believed in his men. And he believed in The Absolute.
Saturday, December 10, 2016
The Absolute came out of hyperspace with the planetoid in sight. As soon as they did, Sarcune gave the order for Wings Alpha and Beta to launch. Three V-19 Torrents, two Y-wings and Solay in her new TIE dropped out of the Star Destroyer’s bay door and slid into escort positions around The Absolute. The ships moved in unison towards the planetoid.
“Status report,” said Captain Sarcune. “Any hostiles detected?”
“None yet sir, but there is a massive power surge coming from the planetoid.” Said the scan-tech officer.
“A weapon of some kind?” asked Sarcune. Before he could get a direct answer, the thought was interrupted.
“Contact!” shouted the communications officer. “Alpha Wing reports contact!”
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Captain Sarcune watched through the viewport of the Absolute from the bridge. The light-tunnel of hyperspace swirled around the Star Destroyer. Sarcune marveled at the illusion. The human eye was only receptive to so much of the visible spectrum, and what men saw in hyperspace was just a fraction of the forces swirling through it. Information, energy, and power – Somehow, the ancient civilizations of the galaxy had figured out a way to send men and their vessels through hyperspace long ago. In doing so, they had made the galaxy smaller – More accessible to all, yet somehow, still divided.
Saturday, November 26, 2016
Lieutenant Bondi, followed by Booker and Cord, moved quickly down the corridor. The Imperial Marines checked each door, and found a mess hall, kitchen, barracks, and medical center, all of which seemed sterile and unused.
“What is all this for?” asked Booker. “Droids don’t sleep.”
“I imagine it was for maintenance personnel or visiting supervisors,” said Bondi. “Looks like they haven’t had visitors in a long while, though.”
The three men continued to the end of the hallway. As they approached the last door, it slid open to reveal an elevator. The men halted on instinct, and raised their weapons. Nothing emerged to greet them, but Bondi couldn’t help thinking of the open door as a gaping maw, the elevator shaft a throat.
Saturday, November 19, 2016
Captain Sarcune kept one eye on the timer, and one on his bridge. He held his hands behind his back and stood up straight, showing no emotion. The crew of the Absolute was busy, making battle-station prep for a conflict they weren’t sure was coming.
Sarcune played back in his mind the conversation he’d had with high command. The holo-image of Governor Tarkin was projected large in the command-room; a purposeful show of power, mandated by Imperial code. Sarcune and his first mate stood before the looming blue ghost, knowing full well that Tarkin looked down on them from his own side of the conversation. Sarcune was not intimidated by the charade, but remained respectful of Tarkin. He’d met the man once, after the end of the Clone Wars. All the captains of the Imperial Navy had, before being dispatched throughout the galaxy to bring the new order of Emperor Palpatine. Sarcune had been struck by the man’s ability to cut to the chase. He didn’t mince words, and Sarcune respected that. But there was something missing from Tarkin, and Sarcune discovered what it was soon enough. Tarkin saw only the game, not the players. As long as the game was won, to Tarkin, all the players were expendable.