Into the Galaxy

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"Be sure to land in the junkyard," commented Cen, his hands wringing together in a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He turned his attention to the file he opened, a blazing screen of prototype schematics, drawn at dozens and dozens of angles, propped up on the screen. It was an ARC-1280, the spiritual descendant of the antique hunk of centuries old junk they were currently flying about. It was primarily theoretical however, there were only various digital sketches of multiple layouts of retro-thrusters, wiring, deflector shields, and the like. While the primary layout seemed to fixate on speed, other heavier variations also sacrificed this for intense firepower and some clever layouts for improved mobility.

However, eying the screen, he became particularly aware of the odd layout of the digital panels. They overlapped at awkward angles and some of the presentations even tilted over one another diagonally, making the reading of said pictures awkward and haphazard. He knew that there must be a reason for it, but it seemed just a bit out of reach... "Usa'ar, I need you to look at something for me."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

The ARC 170 slowly merged into a common line of air traffic heading lazily across the sky, past jagged skyscrapers and large factories.

"We lost them," he breathed a sigh of relief. "I think." The radar was aglow with so many ships nearby it would be impossible to tell what was a Sith patrol vehicle and what was a civilian transport.

"And what do I have to see, can't you wait until we land?" Usa'ar asked. He swerves to avoid a reckless air taxi as it cut him off in the traffic line.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"I could, but I think I'm on to something. Flip on whatever monitor connects you to the navigation computer and look at this." He tapped a finger on his wide monitor splayed out before him, his finger tracing along the sketched schematics. "Now I want you to look at this before we land. The pictures displayed in separate overlapping are of various prototype ARC fighters, okay? But look at how they're displayed." He tapped one at the top right corner, twisted at an odd forty-five degree angle for example. "They overlap, in some cases cutting off key components in the appearance of other prototypes. While one could argue that the other ones were deemed flawed, that does not explain the very awkward and vary apparent angles the photos were turned."

He propped his elbows up along the frame of the computer, clasping his hands together and pressing them tightly against his lips. He spoke out in a muffled voice, hardly audible as it transferred through the comm into the main pilot's cockpit. "So unless these were positioned by a blind man, this was completely intentional." Cen felt a pull to this, as if something more than a hunch had begun to drive him to the conclusion. It was an obsessive compulsion to resolve the problem laid before him, more deeply rooted than his superiority complex, and perhaps even more compelling. It was as if he had hesitantly dipped a toe into Fate's river and had been swallowed whole by the current. "There's something about this that's calling to me."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar pressed the computer relay button and the visuals on Cen's computer filled his. He was instantly confused by all the shapes and figures overlapping each other.

"You said they're all ARC designs? Do they join together or something? I don't know, Cen. I don't know. Although, I never knew they updated the ARC line. If I could get my hands on one of these... It seems like the base models here have most of the modifications that I put on this ol' girl here. That's very interesting..."

Usa'ar minimized it for a moment to check their course.

"One district away now."

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"That's another thing, they never did update the ARC line." He tapped a finger on the mic, making the gesture audible to the pilot. He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in over the course of a few moments before he raised his voice again to speak, "These designs are entirely unique. And the best part..." He rubbed his hand along the surface of the screen, staring deeply into the presentation. He felt hypnotized by it, drawn to it, it was as if the picture spoke to him in ways beyond words, beyond sense. Something beyond drew him to it. "The best part is I think it's saying something too."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar frowned. "Like some kind of message? That's pretty secretive... Can you read it?" A message hidden in a datachip full of restricted files. Except this was one of the few ones that could be opened... It was all very odd.

"So who sent this message? And who's the intended recipient?" Cen knew more about the data chip than he did.

A resounding crackling filled Usa'ar's headset. "This is Patrol Vehicle 412. You are suspected of illegal entry into Sith airspace. Land, or be destroyed."

"Merde," Usa'ar swore. "They found us."

He addressed the patrol vehicle. "Yeah, uh, we'll land over on that airstrip to the right." Usa'ar continued headed straight instead of turning. He switched to the private channel with Cen. "I'm not gonna forget to jam them this time. We'll be able to burn this guy and get you to your drop off, don't worry." Usa'ar targeted the patrol vehicle, distinguished because of the communication channel, and jammed it. That should work, he thought.

A bead of sweat rolled down Usa'ar's face. But he'd been through worse than this.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"Hold on, there's something weird about this," he said. He was naturally prone to nervousness, this day had been one gigantic roller coaster of bad luck, death, and frightening new experiences. He felt none of this now however, even with the Sith on their tail and his veteran pilot's confident demeanor beginning to vanish like a fart in a windstorm. "Okay, so maybe it's a message... but there's so much strangeness surrounding it. The ARCs are outdated, they were the predecessors to the X-Wing which rendered them obsolete. Why are they updating a weaker model? It would take tons of advanced and custom augments professionally applied to modernize them."

He groaned, massaging his forehead in complete obliviousness to the pursuit in progress. "Okay, okay, so let's take a leap in judgement and assume whatever here is code, okay? So let's open up a backdoor command channel and see if we can externally manipulate the data, maybe there's something we need to do with the software's programming that might re-" As he attempted to access the controls the computer beeped in defiance. "Dammit, Usa'ar! Your computer is blocking me out, fix it!"

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar grimaced. "I'm a tad bit busy at the moment!" Suddenly a streak of red laser fire screamed by the cockpit. "They've started firing! S5, use that tail gun!" The ARC swerved in and out of traffic, seeking refuge from the Sith patrol as it tried to lock onto Usa'ar's ship. He nudged the fighter up and over a rather large shuttle lazily drifting along in front of them, using it for cover. Civilian ships started to swerve away from the traffic column to get away from the small dogfight.

S5 rotated the tail gun and opened fire on the Sith patrol ship, causing it to break off the attack. Usa'ar ducked the ARC down lower and veered a sharp left. "Cen, I need you to plot the fastest course to the junkyard." He pulled the controls back and the fighter surged straight upwards before rotating and heading in the opposite way. "Let's show this little bugger who he's messing with, first though," he growled.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"Literally, when you dog fight IN traffic do you expect no one to find out? The civilians coul-" He paused, staring drearily at the computer screen. "No, dammit, I'm on to something here!" There was too much going on at the moment with so little time to plan and Cen was beginning to come unglued. He began hyperventilating, heavily gripping the sides of his armrests as he heaved and sputtered. He raised his hands up into the air, pressing his palms flat against the glass canopy, and began yelling unintelligibly in what sounded like wookie-tongue. He was having what seemed to be either a tantrum or a very, very painful stroke. Just as quick as he started however, he stopped.

He clasped his hands tightly together and pressed his back flat against the spine of his chair. His breathing slowed, and just as he seemed calm enough to function once more, he spoke, "I am very frustrated." He let the damning words sink in. "I need to meditate and channel my rage, please excuse me."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

"I could do a lot better without you screaming in the mic, you know. And I'M not the one who shot first!" Usa'ar furiously scanned the viewport for the patrol ship. A burst of red plasma hurtled through the air and slammed into the ARC. It was dead ahead. "S5, make sure you've got the shields focused on the front." The ARC let loose a couple of homing missiles, trailing smoke as they tracked the Sith ship. The missiles rammed into the patrol ship, staggering it and covering it with flames for a moment. A flurry of green laser fire from Usa'ar's ship pierced the shields and ripped the Sith ship up.

The enemy vessel spun and shook, smoke billowing out of it as the pilot struggled to keep it afloat but to no avail. The ship crashed unceremoniously into a building, spreading bright orange flames across the walls.

Usa'ar let a huge sigh of relief out. "What did I tell you? We didn't have to worry at all. Now let's get you to your destination. We won't have much time."

The ARC made a U-turn and continued on, this time alone. The junkyard was visible in the distance.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"Fantastic, now the entire hemisphere is going to be on lock down," he groaned. He was typing furiously into the computer, trying to swiftly gain access to the chip's coding before he was dropped off. With every move he made the computer beeped in defiance, only prompting him to type more vigorously in his desperate attempt to get results. However, as the time provided a window for him to work, Cen was allowed to indulge in the element of analyzing, carefully processing his next move microseconds beforehand without the frustration of multiple obstacles. Then it hit him.

"Usa'ar, is it possible for a datachip information to be displayed in both digital and holographic mediums?"

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

"Yeah, of course. It should be in the settings. You find something?"

The ARC reached the junkyard, and Usa'ar surveyed the heaps of junk, metal and other assorted crap that seemed to stretch on forever.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen had to use every ounce of his being to prevent a good self-smacking. He relayed all of the data to a holoprojector to his left, causing the schematics to blare into view in a grand 3D spectacle. Cen studied it curiously, his finger wagging at the display as his mind rolled about in the sea of new information, tossing and turning. The odd angles of the various prototypes were even more evident now than ever, now with a full sphere of rotation that had positioned themselves every-which-way behind, above, below, and in front of one another. As Cen stared, his eyes lit up, his head twisted at a sharp ninety degree angle to the side as he stared, concluding his hypothesis.

"It's a map," he declared openly to Usa'ar.

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

"A map? Leading to where?" Usa'ar didn't know how he felt about this datachip mess, but obviously this was bigger than what he first thought. For someone to go through all that trouble just to hide a map was surprising. It had to be something big.

Usa'ar found a somewhat suitable landing spot and began to lower the ship, engaging the landing gearcgear and using the reverse thrusters.

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"I was told to bring it to Coruscant, so..." He trailed off, groaning with defeat and slamming his head against the computer monitor. Before he could be inquired about his behavior however, he immediately began tracing red lines through the floating, seemingly amorphous, model of several disorganized ARC prototypes. It was time to begin the trap. "It can be hardly called a map. The trail is clear however, it's just through code by design. See the class names? Remember how I was remarking the odd difference between names? Well it's a clue between what we need to look at and what's fake."

His lines began to interconnect, forming a wiry, bent loop that circled through the floating mass of holographic panels. "While there are some true designs mixed into all of this, the main things we need to look at are the obviously fake ones, given gibberish names, and ones like this-" He halted his finger on a panel. "Nihilus-Class ARC-1280. Nihilus was a Dark Lord of the Sith a thousand or so years ago. So obviously that would be bound to catch the attention of an observant person, right? So let's back up a second and gather all the names, counting Nihilus, Tyranus... From Sadow to Krayt it's all here. Well, at least notable Sith who have at least had some hand in the galactic game of light versus dark. So through various theories I believe the one that will work is if I draw a line from the ancient Sith to the more modern..."

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Nihilus. Tyranus. The names left a shiver down Usa'ar's spine.

"Didn't I tell you it was Sith-themed? Alright, so we think it's a map and it has to do with Sith. Maybe it's a map pointing to a Sith in particular? Or to a secret Jedi perhaps? I don't know." Usa'ar shook his head.

A siren could be heard wailing in the distance. The quick skirmish, hadn't gone unnoticed, and it wouldn't be long until the area was swarming with guards and Sith. Usa'ar set the ARC down on a somewhat even patch of bare ground littered with some small piles of metal and trash.

"If there's a time to solve this, it's now, Cen."

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

"I'm trying," he called back, his finger dancing from holographic panel to panel. The map became more pronounced, but the jagged web of angular paths interconnected into a small, wiry orb appeared treacherous, or perhaps coincidental. That is, until he made the final line, bouncing off of the Malgus-Class and ascending far above the rest as a very, very obvious access route. Rubbing his sweat-drenched forehead dry he called out, "So we have a map to something, lucky us, and we also can safely assume it's on Coruscant. We need coordinates now!" He began circling the spherical map about with the wave of a hand, attempting to decrypt any further clues from the puzzle. "Okay, Usa'ar, do you have any suggestions to find to Coordinates?"

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar thought for a moment, remembering all the astro maps he had seen in his life. He took off his helmet and held it in his hands. He nervously checked the skies around the dump they were in. "Usually the coordinates in astro maps are located in the bottom right. Check to see if a part of a schematic or something matches up to make letters and numbers."

 

[Cen Tessek]

[member="Usa'ar Obath"]

Cen leaned in to observe the holomap, the pressure of his nervousness seeming to build up in his stomach and rise to his throat. He gasped loudly, in order to be audible. "You're right it's... It's right next to this junkyard!" He slapped himself in the cheek to emphasize the shock of this. He flipped a switch, the navigator's cockpit roof floating away to allow him to depart. He unplugged the datachip and shoved it into a pocket before unbuckling himself from the leather straps. He called out to the pilot through the comm before practically leaping from the gunship, "Usa'ar, get out and help me cover the ARC with some tarp. We can get out here, talk money and then get going. I'm not waiting around to get carpet bombed!"

 

[Usa'ar Obath]

Usa'ar left his helmet in the seat and hopped out of the ship, searching for and locating a tarp to cover the ARC. He scurried to secure it with Cen's help.

"Alright, alright, let's get out of the open! I can see the assault crafts on the way," Usa'ar excitedly pointed out. He unholstered his blaster in the excitement, even though it wouldn't do much good.