In Service of Chaos. (SW\B5)
Posted: 2005-04-16 03:40pm
<Insert Fanfic Disclaimer Here>
Warning. This Fanfic contains very minor spoilers for Revenge of the Sith. These spoilers are mainly about a vessel featured in the film, and are from the Incredible Cross Sections book.
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In Service of Chaos.
By Joseph Wilson
Chapter One
The fifteenth outer rim patrol fleet was, honestly, outdated. But its record in combat against the manifold foes in the rim was enough to justify keeping its older, clone wars era ships in operation rather than risk the drop in performance that would be incurred by replacing the ships.
As such, the patrol fleet sported no less than three old Venator class star destroyers in addition to its complement of Tector and Imperial class vessels. These flanked the massive command ship, the Veterator, named for its wide array of electronic countermeasures, several of which were unique systems that had been tested on it, but deemed either too expensive or too energy intensive to include in the rest of the Imperial Starfleet.
Given the number of carriers and scout ships in the patrol fleet, it was no surprise to see a long range scout ship skip out of hyperspace. Its pilot, a clone of the famous war era ace Sanjit Kaan, skilfully navigated it back toward the first of the venators, an aging craft called the Skilled Hunter, banking around a star frigate with practiced ease.
It was a manoeuvre he had done a thousand times before, in the slender TIE scout. But this time it was different.
This time he had returned without his wingman.
The TIE scout swung into the bay of the Venator, the pilot, Kaan Seven-eighty, finally consented to switch the engines off and relay control to the ship’s tractor beams, and turned, flinging himself from the bucket seat and into the rear of the scout. The sensor operator there was still trying to make sense of what had happened on their expedition, and Kaan pushed past him toward the scout’s rear hatch.
He jogged out onto the huge bay of the Venator carrier, and blinked inside his black helmet at two storm troopers aiming their weapons at him. A black clad deck officer whose nameplate read Teeg also held a pistol. Looking at the officer, Kaan couldn’t recognise him. No surprise, given that the ship had a crew of almost eight thousand, but he could tell he wasn’t a clone. A short term enlistee no doubt.
“Sidearm,” the officer demanded, and Kaan carefully took his pistol out of its thigh holster, using only two fingers, and passed it to one of the stormtroopers.
The officer stepped forward, and Kaan took his helmet off. “Why have you been missing for no less than forty eight hours?” he demanded.
“I’ve been looking for Mo- for my wingman,” he said, placing his helmet under his arm, “And I need a new ship. Something faster. A hyper-capable fighter,” he said, “to look further.”
“You are going nowhere but the brig, solider,” the sub-lieutenant said, “You have derilicted your duty and disobeyed your orders. Take him away.” One of the Stormtroopers took Kaan’s shoulders, and began hauling him away from the craft.
Stalking up the ramp, the officer laid his hand on the scanner-chief’s shoulder. “What happened out there?
“It was,” the analyst started, and looked up at him, “you won’t believe me.”
“Tell me what happened,” Lieutenant Teeg insisted.
“It was something, alive. Black. Like a bug of some sort, but bigger. And the scream…”
“You landed somewhere?” Teeg asked.
“No,” the other man replied, “A living creature in space. It took them! We were lucky to escape alive!” He sounded on the edge of a strange hysteria, brought on by lack of sleep, rest and food. He’d spent hours on end watching the same footage again and again.
“Guard!” Teeg shouted down the ramp at the back of the scout ship, “Take this man to medical. Have him sedated.” The lieutenant’s words were thick with distaste.
----
Audio-Visual record sequestered by the Ubiquitorate:
Two bulky TIE scouts coast through space, toward a desolate planet. They are a bulky vessel, despite their resemblance to the Sineiar Systems TIE fighter, they have a large rear compartment for up to two analysts and their sensor equipment. The first is crewed by Kaan, the second by a Pilot named Morden. This is in fact his second name, but he has always found it unsettling if people used his first name. Rumour has it that his first name was something phenomenally embarrassing.
“Some strange readings from up ahead,” he says, “Repeating pattern. Neutrino bursts.”
“Odd,” replies Kaan, “break off and check it out,” he orders.
“Right.”
Morden’s scout turns to the left, diverting toward the ruined planet. Suddenly the centre of the image of the planet contorts, rippling as something terrible appears. It appears to have sixteen projections from its central hull, its surface is a black oil, seemingly braced by viens of something. Fluid seems to run underneath its surface.
Four voices variously yelp and scream at something only they can hear. Finally, Kaan gathers himself, “What is that. Full scan.”
“It’s - it’s some kind of life-form,” his analyst, identified and Falar, B, says.
“What?” asks Morden.
A proximity alarm sounds, and Morden’s craft veers away from the black vessel.
From the vessel’s underside a beam weapon is fired, purple, clipping the radiator fin of the vessel flown by Morden, which pitches into a spin as its twin ion engines malfunction and one of them engages.
Kaan’s craft rolls about its axis, preparing for an attack run on the enemy, but it is too late. Another shot from the legged vessel, now quickly closing on Morden’s vessel, disables the malfunctioning vessel. They collide, and the TIE disappears as Kaan begins his attack run.
Green laser cannon bolts slash through space that is suddenly devoid of a target.
Warning. This Fanfic contains very minor spoilers for Revenge of the Sith. These spoilers are mainly about a vessel featured in the film, and are from the Incredible Cross Sections book.
----
In Service of Chaos.
By Joseph Wilson
Chapter One
The fifteenth outer rim patrol fleet was, honestly, outdated. But its record in combat against the manifold foes in the rim was enough to justify keeping its older, clone wars era ships in operation rather than risk the drop in performance that would be incurred by replacing the ships.
As such, the patrol fleet sported no less than three old Venator class star destroyers in addition to its complement of Tector and Imperial class vessels. These flanked the massive command ship, the Veterator, named for its wide array of electronic countermeasures, several of which were unique systems that had been tested on it, but deemed either too expensive or too energy intensive to include in the rest of the Imperial Starfleet.
Given the number of carriers and scout ships in the patrol fleet, it was no surprise to see a long range scout ship skip out of hyperspace. Its pilot, a clone of the famous war era ace Sanjit Kaan, skilfully navigated it back toward the first of the venators, an aging craft called the Skilled Hunter, banking around a star frigate with practiced ease.
It was a manoeuvre he had done a thousand times before, in the slender TIE scout. But this time it was different.
This time he had returned without his wingman.
The TIE scout swung into the bay of the Venator, the pilot, Kaan Seven-eighty, finally consented to switch the engines off and relay control to the ship’s tractor beams, and turned, flinging himself from the bucket seat and into the rear of the scout. The sensor operator there was still trying to make sense of what had happened on their expedition, and Kaan pushed past him toward the scout’s rear hatch.
He jogged out onto the huge bay of the Venator carrier, and blinked inside his black helmet at two storm troopers aiming their weapons at him. A black clad deck officer whose nameplate read Teeg also held a pistol. Looking at the officer, Kaan couldn’t recognise him. No surprise, given that the ship had a crew of almost eight thousand, but he could tell he wasn’t a clone. A short term enlistee no doubt.
“Sidearm,” the officer demanded, and Kaan carefully took his pistol out of its thigh holster, using only two fingers, and passed it to one of the stormtroopers.
The officer stepped forward, and Kaan took his helmet off. “Why have you been missing for no less than forty eight hours?” he demanded.
“I’ve been looking for Mo- for my wingman,” he said, placing his helmet under his arm, “And I need a new ship. Something faster. A hyper-capable fighter,” he said, “to look further.”
“You are going nowhere but the brig, solider,” the sub-lieutenant said, “You have derilicted your duty and disobeyed your orders. Take him away.” One of the Stormtroopers took Kaan’s shoulders, and began hauling him away from the craft.
Stalking up the ramp, the officer laid his hand on the scanner-chief’s shoulder. “What happened out there?
“It was,” the analyst started, and looked up at him, “you won’t believe me.”
“Tell me what happened,” Lieutenant Teeg insisted.
“It was something, alive. Black. Like a bug of some sort, but bigger. And the scream…”
“You landed somewhere?” Teeg asked.
“No,” the other man replied, “A living creature in space. It took them! We were lucky to escape alive!” He sounded on the edge of a strange hysteria, brought on by lack of sleep, rest and food. He’d spent hours on end watching the same footage again and again.
“Guard!” Teeg shouted down the ramp at the back of the scout ship, “Take this man to medical. Have him sedated.” The lieutenant’s words were thick with distaste.
----
Audio-Visual record sequestered by the Ubiquitorate:
Two bulky TIE scouts coast through space, toward a desolate planet. They are a bulky vessel, despite their resemblance to the Sineiar Systems TIE fighter, they have a large rear compartment for up to two analysts and their sensor equipment. The first is crewed by Kaan, the second by a Pilot named Morden. This is in fact his second name, but he has always found it unsettling if people used his first name. Rumour has it that his first name was something phenomenally embarrassing.
“Some strange readings from up ahead,” he says, “Repeating pattern. Neutrino bursts.”
“Odd,” replies Kaan, “break off and check it out,” he orders.
“Right.”
Morden’s scout turns to the left, diverting toward the ruined planet. Suddenly the centre of the image of the planet contorts, rippling as something terrible appears. It appears to have sixteen projections from its central hull, its surface is a black oil, seemingly braced by viens of something. Fluid seems to run underneath its surface.
Four voices variously yelp and scream at something only they can hear. Finally, Kaan gathers himself, “What is that. Full scan.”
“It’s - it’s some kind of life-form,” his analyst, identified and Falar, B, says.
“What?” asks Morden.
A proximity alarm sounds, and Morden’s craft veers away from the black vessel.
From the vessel’s underside a beam weapon is fired, purple, clipping the radiator fin of the vessel flown by Morden, which pitches into a spin as its twin ion engines malfunction and one of them engages.
Kaan’s craft rolls about its axis, preparing for an attack run on the enemy, but it is too late. Another shot from the legged vessel, now quickly closing on Morden’s vessel, disables the malfunctioning vessel. They collide, and the TIE disappears as Kaan begins his attack run.
Green laser cannon bolts slash through space that is suddenly devoid of a target.
A little thing called AS exams in a month.