“Fierfek,” swore Grent, upon reading the information on the HUD of his TIE Hunter, detailing exactly how everything was not going to go according to plan.

The Squadron Commander was on a solo mission, performing some slight reconnaissance for the ISD Paragon. It was dangerous, Grent knew that, but he wasn’t going to force any of his squadron to do what he wasn’t willing to do himself. His promotion was still a surprise to many people, so anything that could reinforce confidence in him was not going to just pass Grent by. The solo mission itself was to investigate reports of New Republic cruisers at a too close to be comfortable range. It had been decided that one small hyperspace capable fighter was to be dispatched, and as the masters of the unconventional, Strill had been called upon to deliver.

The journey in was not a problem. Having reached the minimum safe zone away from the large Imperial Star Destroyer that Grent called his home, he entered the co-ordinates of his destination into the navicomputer, and watched as it made the necessary calculations. Grent was in luck: only one straight line hyperspace jump to let him reach the target area. The Mandalorian relaxed as the stars elongated into white lines, and carried on plugging in information, checking on shield status. It was unnecessary, but it helped calm the nerves. Once the craft had reverted back into realspace, it was met with black emptiness: there was nothing. Grent continued exploring for the next half an hour or so, letting his scanners run. Still nothing.

Having decided that there was nothing there, Grent turned the starfighter around, and started plotting a course for home. Suddenly, out of no where, a small New Republic cruiser dropped out of hyperspace, firing at the small Vast Empire craft. One shot hit, shaking the craft, as it set off the hyperdrive prematurely. Grent’s TIE Hunter soared away, with no destination. Inside the cockpit, alarms sounded, and warning lights pulsed, as Grent desperately tried to regain control of his craft. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity, he managed to do so. The starfighter dropped out of hyperspace. As Grent checked his systems, he found that the last parting shot from the New Republic had crippled his navicomputer. It had enough information, however, to show the course he had just come across. It was now up to Grent to plot a new course manually.

“I came from there at a bearing of 035 …” Grent mumbled to himself, reading the course information.
#2: Good grief! We nearly hit that star!
“The gravity from that star,” continued Grent, ignoring the voice in his head, “would have meant we angled around … here! We are here. Now to get home again.”

He could go back the way he came: that was for certain. No, he would have to enter in each jump manually. First, there was the matter of predicting the path of the Paragon. Grent knew it’s last known position half an hour ago, and he also knew the average speed of an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. He plotted the Paragon and its predicting course on the holographic map in front of him. Then he drew a straight line from his location, to a couple of klicks away from the Paragon. After that, Grent took note of anything in the way, and plotted his course around them, noting the co-ordinates that each jump would have to be. Upon double checking, Grent realised that he’d made a slight calculation error that would have caused him to crash into a planet.

#1: Glad we caught that before we punched it in.

After making sure that we was not going to be turned into space dust during his flight back, Grent entered the numbers into the hyperspace computer, having had to bypass the navicomputer due to the fact that it wouldn’t even serve as a holochess board. Numbers entered, the computer hummed to life, powering the hyperdrive. The stars turned to lines once more.

If he hadn’t got this right, this was going to be one short trip.

OOC:

WC: 686

AAR: Just a short story detailing how Grent's navicomputer gets fried, and he has to plot his own course manually.