Senior Crewman Pherik Zail stared at the man beside him and said, “You must be kidding.”

The man in question, Crewman Simon Gradesh, was one of Zail’s roommates aboard the ISD Halcyon Warrior.  The pair stood in one of the vehicle storage bays of the colossal Imp Star Deuce, a long and poorly lit chamber where the vessel’s small collection of land vehicles were kept.  Among the collection of AT-ATs and smaller AT-STs were a handful of speeders, all of which would be used by the ship’s Stormtroopers in times of planetary assault.  It was one of those machines they now stared at.

“It may not be pretty,” Said Gradesh with a rough Corellian accent.  “However, I have been given permission to work on her.”

Zail looked again at the ten meter long Repulsortank.  It was a low and almost sleek vehicle, but its exterior had been marred with age and too many battles.  It was an old S-1 FireHawke, and were it not for the ongoing conflicts in the galaxy and the fact that the Vast Empire needed everything at its disposal, the tank would no doubt have been scrapped years ago.

“So this is the project you needed my help with,” Said Zail.  “Okay Gradesh, I’ll see what I can do.  But I am no mechanic.  If you want my help, you are going to need to give me some pointers.”  The Alderaanian frowned.  “Why are we doing this again?”

“A bet!” Said the Corellian with a grin.  “I bet one of my colleagues in Engineering that I could get this old tank working fine by the end of next week.  For that I need your help.”

“So it’s not an official job?” Said Zail.  “We have to work in our spare time?  I don’t get much of that, you know.”

“Trust me, I’ll pay you back plenty during our next shore leave.  I’ll show you a great Twi’lek club on Lotaith that you will just love,” Said Gradesh slyly.

Zail thought about it for a moment.  “Okay, I’m in.”


Within half an hour the duo were on their backs underneath the Repulsortank, a variety of tools strewn about them.  They had gone over the vital systems with a fine tooth comb, and just kept finding parts that were either old or damaged.

“This one too?” Asked Zail, working hard with a hydrospanner.  He lacked his friend’s technical know-how, but he was a fast study.  Pulling out a blackened power relay, he handed it to Gradesh for inspection.

“Yeah, this one is useless too,” Said the Corellian.  “Where did it come from?”

Zail pointed.  “It came from this unit here.  That system looks familiar...”

Gradesh nodded.  “It should.  That links into the repulsor coil.  No wonder the kriffing thing won’t hover if that’s getting no power.”

The other crewman nodded, looking at the array of steelcrete blocks that were holding the tank off the deck and allowing them to work at its underside.  They would not be necessary once they got the FireHawke hovering again.  “How come it was allowed to get this bad?” Asked Zail.  “Shouldn’t a vehicle this damaged have been taken off the Halcyon, stop it taking up room?”

Gradesh managed to shrug despite lying on his back.  “Yeah, probably.  But remember that this ship was in New Republic hands until recently, and it’s anyone’s guess how they prioritize their work.  I’m just glad it got overlooked in the refit.  Fixing things like this is just too much fun!”

“Fixing?” Retorted the other.  “All we’ve done is pull out wrecked parts.  When do we actually starting putting good bits back in?”

“Tomorrow night,” Said Gradesh, sliding out from beneath the tank.  “It’s getting late, and don’t you have an early shift on the bridge tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Said Zail, checking the chronometer on his wrist.  He had no idea it had gotten so late!  “Let’s call it a night there then.”  And so saying they went back to their quarters, a large sheet draped lovingly over their work-in-progress.


Several days passed, and slowly Zail began to feel his friend’s enthusiasm for the project.  He found himself reading technical schematics while eating his meals, and in his quieter moments found himself looking forward to the next time he could work on the FireHawke.  He and Gradesh talked about little else, and even kept the other two inhabitants of their shared quarters up at night with their constant exchange of ideas.  All the while Zail learned intently from his friend, and his knowledge of mechanics grew.

Despite them working in their spare time, the tank was still a military vehicle and so they were given permission to use the ship’s store of spare parts in their repairs.  By the end of the week they had replaced most of the faulty parts, but still could not get the FireHawke to hover.

The two friends were sat inside the tank.  Built to hold a crew of five, there was enough room for them both to work.  They had restored power to the controls, and a bank of lit consoles glowed pleasingly in front of them.  Intently they checked the status readouts of the repuslor system.

“Okay,” Said Zail, getting a grip of things.  “Here we have the array of micro-coils, which make up the repulsor coil, running along the bottom of the tank,” He said, pointing to the diagnostic display.  “When they activate and generate their anti-grav field, the tank hovers.  The coils are powered by the energy distribution net here, which links into the tank’s main power generator here.”

“Exactly,” Said Gradesh.  “Now we haven’t got the main generator online, but we have got two mobile power cores hooked up.  One to the repulsor coil and the other to this diagnostic display.  Between them we should be able to see if there are any breaks in the system.”

“I hope not,” Said Zail.  “We’ve be replacing wires and relays for days now.  I’d hate to think we missed anything.”

Gradesh shook his head.  “No, it looks fine to me!” He said with obvious glee.  “Now, all we need do is repair the main generator and this old FireHawke will be working fine!”

“Excellent, let’s get to it.”


After two hours work, Gradesh wiped the sweat from his brow and sighed.  Zail did likewise, backing off but still staring in anger and frustration at the generator.  Located deep inside the tank, they had to crawl into a hatch and move several other systems aside to work on it, and wielding their hydrospanners in the cramped space made their task even more awkward.

“It can’t be done,” Said Gradesh.  “This old generator is shot.  There’s no way we can fix it.  We’ll need to replace it entirely.”

Zail had reached the same conclusion, but had hoped his more experienced partner would have a more optimistic appraisal.  When he did not, the Senior Crewman could only ask, “Do we have another in the stores?”

Gradesh shrugged.  “I’ll check tomorrow.  We can pick this up then.”


When they reconvened the following night, Gradesh did not look happy.  Zail looked at the large machine his friend had brought on a hover sled, and understood.

“It’s a generator, but not of the right type,” Surmised the Alderaanian.

Gradesh nodded.  “It’s bigger and far more efficient than the older generator, but with some work we can adapt the wiring around it and install it.”

“A lot of work?”

Gradesh nodded, and they began.


Time went on.  The middle of the second and final week was upon them, and still the two friends could not get the FireHawke to hover.  Luckily, the terms of Gradesh’s bet only covered the tank’s ability to move.  Zail was loathe to think about how complex it would be if they also had to get the vehicle’s two main cannons firing too.

Again they were in the cockpit, staring at the displays.  “I don’t get it!” Said Gradesh, and in the last hour Zail had heard more Corellian expletives from him than he knew existed.  “The new generator is in, and its sending power throughout the tank.  Computer consoles, scanners, diagnostics, even the heating is all running fine, so it is definitely working!  And despite the power grid and repulsor coil being fine, the kriffing tank refuses to lift off the ground!”

Zail scowled at the readouts.  Everything seemed fine, and he too was at a loss to explain what was wrong.  “For some reason the coils aren’t getting power, but why?  Should we go over the wiring again?” He suggested.

Gradesh sighed.  “That’s not it and we both know it.  There is something else we are missing.  I doubt we’re going to get it tonight.  Let’s sleep on it.”

Zail was about to remind his friend of the bet, but knew that there was no point.  They had done all they could do for one night, and now they had no choice but to get some rest.  Reluctantly the duo retired their bunks, though both were lost in thought and it was a while before either got to sleep.


Gradesh was looking blue when Zail caught up with him in the mess hall the following day.  Putting his tray down with a thud, the Alderaanian sat down opposite his friend and smiled.  “I’ve got it!” He said triumphantly.

Gradesh looked up from his largely untouched food.  “Yeah?” He asked, his tone doubtful.  “I’m listening.”

“How much more powerful is that generator?” Asked Zail, not put off by the Corellian’s lack of faith in him.

“A lot more,” Said Gradesh.  “Ten years of solid galactic warfare tends to push technology pretty fast.  That generator has enough juice for two tanks.”

Zail smiled.  “And does that power level exceed the safety margins set a decade ago for military vehicles?”

The other crewman’s face lit up.  “I think it does!”

“So would the coils be detecting this and staying off to avoid an overload?” Asked Zail.

Gradesh nodded, a big grin spreading across his face.  “Tonight we sort this at last!” He declared.


Later that evening, the two friends were under the tank again, datapads linked to the repulsor coil and carefully altering the power flow regulator.

“What I don’t get,” Said Zail, “Is why this shut down protocol exists.  If there is a power surge, the coils shut down?  Isn’t that a little dangerous in a combat vehicle?  First power surge from a blaster hit and the tank’s repulsor field shuts down and it crashes to the ground.”

Gradesh smiled.  “It doesn’t work like that,” He said.  “The coils detect the surge and stop accepting power but only temporarily.  In the meantime there is enough residual charge in them to stay aloft, that’s why repulsor technology is reliable enough for combat.  The problem here is that this tank has been sitting here for so long that there is no residual charge.”

Zail ran some calculations and read the numbers to Gradesh.  “Try this setting,” He said, and his friend entered the new energy calibration for the coils.

“That’s it,” Said the Corellian.  “Now, let’s try this!”

They got into the tank’s interior, and fired up the generator.  Again, the consoles lit up one by one, indicating that all the FireHawke’s basic systems were running fine.  Then came the final test.

“Here we go,” Said Zail, and hit the button for the repulsor coils to fire up.  There was a hum of power as the generator poured more of its considerable energy into the engines, and then a second hum that indicated that the coils were responding.  Slowly, shakily, the antigrav field came online and pushed the tank off its steelcrete blocks to hover a few feet off the deck.

“It works!” Called Gradesh in victory, punching the air.

“Mind if I take it for a spin?” Asked his friend.

“By all means.”

Zail took the controls and eased the ten meter long vehicle forwards.  A FireHawke had a top speed of 400 km/h, but they were not about to push it above 5 in the cramped storage bay.  Carefully Zail guided the slow-moving tank around AT-ATs and AT-STs, and while the handling was poor, the tank was moving sure and steady.

Finally they completed the loop of the bay and came back to where they began.  Zail guided the tank back onto the blocks, impressing himself with his precision.  Only once the FireHawke was secure did he let out a long breath he did not even know he was holding.

“Awesome,” Said Gradesh.  “I couldn’t have done it without you, Zail.”

“You owe be big for this,” Said the Alderaanian.  “But you know what?  Next time you have a project this fun, be sure to let me know.”

Gradesh smiled.  “It’s a deal.”

OOC:

2130 words. My second skill, and a chance for my character to make an NPC friend.  The Navy is all about teamwork after all!