Chp-14: Sisterly Views
Chp-14: Sisterly Views
Alvi Mola
Lothal, Imperial Factory, Experimental Wing
"It's maneuvering is too slow."
Olrat looks up from his datapad as Alvi steps down from the prototype.
"What?"
"I said, the maneuvering is too slow. This thing is heavy, and that means that its maneuvering thrusters are doing far more work in-atmosphere."
He gives her a pointed look. "This isn't an atmospheric fighter. We're not trying to build the TIE/sk here."
"No" she shot back as she removed her helmet. "We're building a multirole starfighter. Multirole means it should excel everywhere, not just space. Just add it to the list"
The engineer thinks for a second as he marks the issue down on his terminal, navigating his newly updated terminal software. "Could we make the regular thruster larger? That would mitigate the stress."
Bottled water was chugged as Alvi wiped the sweat off her face and shook her head. "That would be expensive, wouldn't it? Also, that thing is already hot enough as it is. Aren't there supposed to be life support systems in there?"
Olrat sighed. "No, not yet. Those come in later. And will take up even more space. At this rate, we'll be stuck with either an oversized or overpriced TIE variant. Neither of which are good for us."
And so they sat there, contemplating and discussing the possible modifications to the prototype. Olrat's engineering expertise and Alvi's piloting skills allowed for a good back and forth problem solving talk.
So engrossed were they in trying to figure out how to get the Defender up to standards, that they failed to notice Grand Admiral Thrawn until he was already upon them.
"Greetings." He said in that signature gravely tone of his. "I see you two are quite enthusiastic about your roles."
The two quickly stood and saluted. ""Yes Sir!"".
"Good…now, what's wrong with the prototype?"
Olrat and Alvi shared a look, a silent battle of the eyes to determine who would have the displeasure of reporting bad news to the big boss. Alvi seemed to lose that battle.
"The maneuvering thrusters are too weak in the atmosphere to accomplish the necessary turning speeds. The only ways we've been able to theoretically solve the problem is either with maneuvering flaps in the s-foils, which will increase mechanical complexity and make the pieces even less compatible with other TIE lines, or increase the size of the thrusters themselves. None of the solutions we've come up with will allow the prototype to stay cheap enough to be a viable replacement for the basic TIE. Sir."
Thrawn humms. It's a distinctly dangerous sound, and everyone around him, from Olrat to Thrawn's own aides seem to break out into a sweat. As if they were all suddenly aware that there was a rancor in the room, and any sudden movement might seem them dead.
"The project has been turned in a…different direction. These fighters will no longer be replacements to the standard TIE line, and are to be relegated solely to ace pilots and other elites. Cost is now less of an obstacle."
Olrat's eyes seemed to shine, and as he and Alvi looked at one another, pure glee in their eyes.
"If that's the case, sir, then we have various alternative designs that are feasible that we could show you right now, if you wish."
The Chiss man quirked an eyebrow, but gestured for the engineer to continue. Olrat activated his terminal and navigated through his myriad files before settling on a few. Before he could continue, the Grand Admiral spoke up. "What kind of program is this?"
Olrat was speechless for a second. "Umm…it's a program Alvi gave me, sir. I ran it through an independent machine, and there were no viruses. It's just a good organizational program, sir."
Thrawn turned to Alvi, who felt incredibly exposed now that she was in the spotlight. "I-its a program my older sister sent me. Said that it was the only thing she could share about my brother's developments over holonet. I don't have a use for it, but I figured Olrat would."
"Have a copy prepared for me before the day's end. Now continue."
Olrat startled. "O-oh, yes, understood. Of the TIE variants we've concocted, the current Defender is the most easily constructible and fits the best within the parameters of the goals we're attempting to accomplish. While variants like the Seeker, Protector and Destroyer are more than possible, they are more specialized instead of being more multi-role like you asked. The Seeker is a more armed Interceptor, the Protector is a multi-role that's too large for it to fit in most TIE docking spaces, and the Destroyer is a purely heavy fighter that is too slow for the project parameters."
"The TRN also comes close to fitting the parameters, but is even more expensive as it requires an astromech droid and custom underslung laser cannons. Its smaller s-foils means increased durability, but at a steeper credit cost due to extra durasteel and a small generator to maintain power output.
"The closest we have is the TIE-X, which has a small enough frame, shields, hyperdrive, life support, increased maneuverability and firepower, and many of its internals are interchangeable with the rest of the TIE line. The problem is that it's theorized that the production of such a TIE would cost around 400,000 credits minimum, 100,000 more than the current Defender estimates."
Another humm. Another tense room. "Produce working prototypes of each of these. Theoreticals are not representative of reality. We will see how these ships truly fare."
And with that, Thrawn turned and left without ceremony. His mind was filled with possibility. Even if the multi-role fighter plan didn't work out, these variants had great potential for future use. And that program. It looked incredibly efficient.
A note was made in the back of his mind to look into Alvi's family further.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Zyx Mola
Muunilinst System, HWK-290 Humble Darkness
She sat in the small communal space aboard her ship while it was being refueled, going over the things she had gotten from her trip to Minda.
Unfortunately, precious little had been brought back with her. That monster of a garrison commander had kept Zyx on her toes the entire time, leaving her unable to snatch any little bits or bobs from the labs.
What she had kept, however, was a recorder stashed in the lining of her pants. As she fished it out, she contemplated what she would do with it. That rant Las had made at the end of her visit intrigued her. It was so…like him, and yet at the same time not at all.
Las was no genius, that's for certain. Not like the rest of the family. He had jumped from subject to subject, hobby to hobby. After the initial success wore off, he would realize he had no natural talent in it and would drop it. So him actually putting in the work was not something she had seriously considered before now.
And it was actual hard work. None of the stations or terminals she had sliced indicated any outside help. Not a single odd cargo manifest. Not only that, but if he was naturally talented or had some secret backer, his eyes would not have bags like they did, nor would his office be filled with files and actual, physical paperwork instead of luxuries and niceties abound.
His little meltdown helped shed some light on him. The fear of death in the Infantry had led him to actually work hard in his new duties because he had no choice. As he got better and worked harder, he came to understand both his position and that he actually enjoyed his job. But then he realized that his now enjoyable position was in jeopardy because of the timeline mother dearest had given him. It made sense, in a way.
It also helped explain why he was acting so cold. Her being there must have seemed like one of mothers ploys. And considering his newfound love of his job, he saw her as a threat to that.
Doesn't make it hurt any less.
Regardless, she had to report this. All agents had to report what they got up to in their spare time. Price of the job and all.
Finally, she managed to get the recorder free. She would have words with the designer who made it such a tight fit.
However, when she tried to activate it, it didn't work. Multiple times, she tried to activate it, to no avail.
Then she remembered. When she was being escorted into the labs, she, like all the members of the party, was scanned by a trooper with an odd, paddle shaped device. It was apparently meant to check for explosives and possible contaminants. Instead, it was likely meant to quietly fry communication and recording devices.
She smiled. Las must have sent word ahead. The paper! He had gotten out of her chair with a document in hand, and it had been folded. He didn't have it in the elevator, so he must've given it to his secretary. It probably contained instructions that were sent to the labs before they got there.
Zyx smirked. Her little brother was growing up. Though she would have to pay him back for this someday. Just not today.
For today, she decided not to report his little rant.
Couldn't hurt.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Hi there folks. Shorter chapter here, just cause I felt like I needed to keep writing so I churned this out. Was planning a third POV section from Las but it's past midnight and my ear hurts for some reason so I decided to toss it out like this. Next alt POV will prolly be the oldest sister. Gotta complete the trifecta, after all.
As always, feedback and commentary is appreciated.
Also, since I forgot to do this, I want to extend credit to all the amazing artists over on ArtStation who's designs I keep yoinking. I know that by linking the website proper I don't actually have to do this, but I felt like it anyways. The stuff over there is legitimately incredible. My dreams of drawing spaceships are currently in the 'boxes slapped together' stage, so I admire the time and skill it must've taken for the folks over there to get where they are today.
And of course, fan designs you want to toss my way are welcome. Just remember to credit the artist(s).
Thanks for reading!