TIE-Fighter 2: Battle Lines
Chapter 3
„They've found it." Chromme was able to report, when he returned to Tanikov's command-station. „Seems a malfunctioning repulsor caused the blasted think to drop into the ocean two kilometers from the shore of the southern continent."
„How deep will our recovery-crew have to dive?" the commander asked, setting the limit for a recovery-operation at five hundred meters. It was well and good to give the spacers under his command as much practice as possible, but at some point a line had to be drawn, was the expanse of blaster gas for a turbolaser shot less important, than the time and resources spent on recovering a droid, whose original fate would have been self-destruction in the line of duty anyway. Instead it would be the gunners, who would get the chance at some real target-practice, not the pilots and technicians of the salvage-crew.
„It is still on the continental shelf, so it isn't any deeper than three hundred meters." Chromme answered, unaware of the thoughts running through his superiors head.
„Seems my gunners got lucky this time." Tanikov thought. Aloud he said. „Send the salvage-crew on its way. Tell them they get bonus-time for the recreation-tract, if they are back in two hours."
Delivering the orders of the Commander to the salvage-crew Chromme observed as only moments later a shuttle appeared on the port side of the „Privateer's Bane" before it accelerated towards the planet. Moving back to Tanikov's command-station the XO saw a member of the sensor- and communications-crew giving the Commander a data pad. His curiosity raised Chromme stepped closer only to hear Tanikov dismiss the pretty ensign.
„That would be all, Ensign Peerma." the Commander said, his gaze fixed on the screen of the data pad. Chromme watched the woman return to her duty-station, while he waited for his superior to finish reading and inform him about the message's contents. He had to admit Ensign Peerma had a nice rear, even with the austere Navy-uniform covering it. He suppressed a sigh. No matter how relaxed the regulations were handled within the local sector-group and especially aboard the „Privateer's Bane", given their difference in rank anything more intimate than the strictly professional relationsship they enjoyed now wasn't possible between Lieutenant-Commander Chromme and Ensign Peerma.
„Lets see what we have here." Tanikov muttered. To Chromme's surprise the Commander had to use his code-cylinder to decode the message stored on the data pad, what meant that the encryption-code hadn't been stored within the databanks of the ship itself. Obviously the message was top-secret.
The expressionless mask that was the Commander's face was replaced by an irritated frown when Tanikov was finished, then he handed the data pad to Chromme. „Read for yourself." he almost snapped. „It seems the gods have answered your prayers."
From
Kisander Venadra, RA
Office of Ship-Deployment
ImperialNavyHeadquaters
AnaxesCitadel
Sector Zero
To
Ian Tanikov, Co
ISS-Acc2F-Foerost-13,214
5th Force Escort, 3rd Superiority-Fleet,
Wankataan-Sectorgroup
Wankataan-Sector
Commander Tanikov,
Due to yours and your commands outstanding and exemplary performance in fighting His Imperial Majesties enemies and protecting His Imperial Majesties domain you and your command are hereby re-assigned from Wankataan-Sectorgroup to replace ISS-Acc2F-Rothana-31,449 as part of the 4th Dreadnought-Division of CRIMSABCOM, based on SpaceComplex Mantoon.
We congratulate you and wish you good luck with your new assignment.
Don't fail us.
All Hail the Emperor.
Signed
Maka Testel, Staff-Captain
i.a.o. Kisander Venadra, Rear-Admiral
Chromme read the message, then read it again.
„A large introduction, a short, but pompous piece of text and the obligatory threat at the end. Typical for a communique NOT put together by the droids. Well, at least we have been noticed."
„More likely somebody's attention has been directed at us. Despite its name the Office of Ship-Deployment doesn't deal with single ships. And aside from the fact that this message has been composed by an organic being, I find it highly suspicious, that the message was signed by this Captain Testel in absence of his superior." Tanikov grumbled.
It took a moment for Chromme to understand what his commanding officer meant. „Plausible deniability for the good Admiral?"
„Right. We're given the chance to prove ourself and if we fail … . Well, we might find ourself in Wild Space or even the Unknown Regions and then the recovery of missing probe-droids will be the last of our worries, while Rear-Admiral Venadra's intention was just misunderstood by his Staff-Captain." A humorless grin appeared on Tanikov's face. „Isn't your uncle on one of the Senate's supervision committees? Perhaps you want to discuss this recent development with him." „And thank him for the mess he got us in." which wasn't said, but Chromme heard it nevertheless.
„I don't think that would be necessary." the Lieutenant-Commander answered. „I wouldn't be surprised if Uncle Urgoyle already knows of our chance at … advancement."
„If you say so. Now tell our recovery-crew to hurry and call our TIEs back. As soon as they are back we make the jump to light speed. We have an appointment with CRIMSABCOM."
---
As soon as the „Privateer's Bane" had accomplished its mission of recovering the Empire's missing probe-droid the ship accelerated away from the nameless planet and out of the nameless system. With the course already plotted the frigate jumped into hyperspace the moment it was out of the planetary gravity-well. Few aboard who weren't close to a window would have noticed the shift from one dimension to the other, but those who know what to look for were always able to detect the change in vibration from the ships machinery. Kolt Ceavers was among those. After taking a hot shower, eating a small meal and getting a few hours of sleep he was back on his way towards the hangar and his fighter.
„HEY, SCANNER!"
The loud shout caused Kolt's face to be turned into a grimace. After wearing a helmet and communicating via radio for hours his ears were always particularily sensitive.
„Yes, Ensign Peerma." Kolt asked with good natured humor in his voice.
He and the pretty ensign used to meet on a regular basis in one of the ships cantinas to discuss almost everything from pod-racing to the development at the stock-exchanges, not to mention the main object of their profession: sensor- and communication-equipment. Aside from that their relationship was best described as „friends with benefits", they both knew that with the next assignment or promotion they could end up on different sides of the galaxy (well, perhaps not that far away from each other). The company was good, the sex most of the time even better, but Kolt Ceavers and Ateena Peerma didn't expect it to last. Which was a shame, because almost all of their friends were convinced, that they were meant for each other.
„I have the calculations you wanted. The main computer almost shut down when I entered your parameters, but it finally spat something out for you to work with." Ateena's voice became serious. „You should clear this with the XO or at least your squadron-commander. Unauthorized modification of imperial property could get you in huge trouble, especially if some narrow-minded technician or undercover ISB-agent should decide that your tinkering could be interpreted as an act of sabotage."
„Because I would sabotage the very systems my own life depends on when I'm out there." Kolt huffed. „How stupid do you have to be to make such an assumption?"
„Doesn't matter. If the ISB weren't such a racist … I mean High-Human-Culture-orientated bunch, they would probably employ Gundarks, if they'd fit into the uniform. Kolt, you know that type. If it isn't in the rule-book, it is bad."
Kolt had to admit, that his friend had a point. A galaxy-wide operating organisation like the Imperial Starfleet couldn't operate without a certain degree of standardisation (to put it mildly) and therefor wasn't the best enviroment for creativity and initiative. As a consequence improvements and progresses within the system appeared with slower speed than the movements of a glacier put under a stasisfield, if they weren't the kind of breakthrough, that was impossibly to deny or they had the backing of one of the higher ups. Somebody had once explained it to Kolt as an attempt to square a circle. An officer, who discovered an out of the book solution to a problem could expect to be either rewarded or to be court-martialled depending on his superiors. It shouldn't come as a surprise, that after the trial the solution was added to the rule-book. That was the Imperial Forces for you.
„Don't worry, I'm careful." Kolt answered. „And if this works, there will be a new chapter added to the rule-book. Not to mention, that the lives of a lot of our comrades will become a lot easier."
„Just promise me to watch your back." Ateena said, stepping closer and putting a palm on his check. Kolt's eyes widened in surprise, when she gave him a quick kiss on the lips. „A new chapter to the rule-book isn't worth your life. And the only pilot I care about is you." With that she turned away from Kolt and hurried down the corridor, leaving behind a gob smacked Lieutenant Ceavers.
Still wondering about the irritating behavior of the female ensign a change in the vibrations told the Flight-Lieutenant, that the ship had left hyperspace.
The frigate „Privateer's Bane" had arrived at SpaceComplex Mantoon, home base - among other things - for the fourth Dreadnought-Division of the Command CRIMSONSABER.