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Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  1363
Total Posts:  1386
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  VSDII Dead Gun: Fire and Ice [Pre XI]
August 8, 2023 6:57:26 AM    View the profile of Raigen 
=======================
INCIDENT REPORT 18-0305002
=======================

At approximately 1600 hours, on the third day fifth month of this year, maintenance crewmen with the 118th Fighter Squadron were conducting pre flight checks prior to third shift patrol with Warrant Officer Karl Zeddrick supervising.

Senior Crewman Tei-Yehn, who was assigned to TIE/IN active designation 118C4, entered the cockpit in the starfighter launching tube. At that time, he began the power cycle for the craft and awaited clearance from the maintenance team via radio.

Leading Crewman Horrix Belveck observed the concussion missile in tube 2 of that starfighter to be reporting a maintenance error. LCR Belveck initiated the unloading procedure remotely from the maintenance station. At that time, LCR Belveck reports he lost contact with TIE/IN 118C4. At the same time, an audible explosion was heard in that section of the ship. He notified WO1 Zeddrick who requested a security team and fire response team to inspect the fighter tube. WO1 Zeddrick reports that contact with TIE/IN 118C4 or SCR Tei-Yehn were not regained.

Sergeant Gorge Mikel reports that, upon reaching the entry tube 4 where TIE/IN 118C4 was docked, a substantial chemical fire was shooting from the direction of the starfighter and making contact with the pilot impossible. SGT Mikel reports he then requested a medical to the area while the FRT extiguished the blaze. FRT then extracted the pilot, then unresponsive, who was taken to Medical via stretcher.

Surveillance video and radio recording was activated during this incident. WO1 Zeddrick has nothing further to report at this time.
==========================================


    Raigen could still feel the flames. Five years had passed since a poorly maintained, leaking concussion missile had filled its tube with tibana gas fuel aboard Raigen's TIE Interceptor. At least, that was what the after incident investigation had concluded. Some engineer had decided that, maybe, the tibana gas in the fuel cell of the missile had degraded in its tubing. That same engineer had supposed that, somehow, the degraded gas may have eaten away at the soft metal gaskets of the fuel cell. He or she had also decided that when TIE/IN 118C4 had been loaded with its armaments, that missile had shaken. Not much, but just enough for that gasket to crack. The gas slowly filled the launcher tube. Then, just before Raigen had left on a completely unneccessary patrol of unoccupied space, the missile decided to notify Maintenance that it was low on fuel. One spark later. . .

    Raigen could still feel the flames. He could still feel his hands, and although he wore leather gloves to prevent scratching whater equipment he was working on, he still thought he could feel the cold metal of the hydrospanner as he gripped it in his new hands. When his body had been dragged from the starfighter and rushed to the nearby Medical Bay, he had been pronounced dead by the attending physician. If not for some upstart surgeon doing his thesis on Cybernetic Replacement Surgery, Raigen would have been packed in a body bag and loaded into cryo storage to be spaced at some makeshift ceremony.

    His face had been saved from the third degree burns to the rest of his body only by his flight helmet, which Raigen had reinforced and sealed in the not unlikely chance his craft depressurized. His eyes, however, were not spaced the intense light and radiation from the blast, and were replaced with bioengeneered orbs with micoprocessor controlled lenses. On the bright side, to excuse the turn of phrase, he no longer needed a lamp to work in the dark crawlspaces and repair hatches.

    "Alright, cycle auxillary power to the system and lets get another readout." Raigen ordered as he stuck the spanner out of the hatch for a waiting crewman to retrieve.

    "Same error. Says the hyperdrive is overheating." A warrant officer stated as he read from a datapad connected to a comport on the side of the shuttle.

    "Then it isn't the sensor. Overide the code and have a droid reprogram the Nav Computer. Should be good from there."

    "Isn't it possible the hyperdrive is bad?" The WO1 asked.

    "No chance. She shouldn't be getting enough power to overheat. The control module on the Nav Computer is faulty, needs to be reprogrammed."

    "We're going to miss you down here. You know ship efficiency has been up twenty percent since you transferred to our division?" Raigen had done six months in intensive care after the accident, another six of physical therapy. Even then, it took a personal order from Admiral Stormz to allow him to remain on active duty, although no longer in a combat cappacity. Hed been transferred to engineering and mostly maintained the Dead Gun's hyperdrive and sublight engines for three years. He needed something more challenging, and the old Lamba shuttles broke down so much he neved needed for work. But now that was over.

"I'm getting a caf. You coming Zeek?" The warrant officer, Xell Zeedrick, shared quarters with Raigen in the fore section of the ship.

"Sure thing, let me grab my comlink." Zeek, as he was known, grabbed his white cylinder shaped comlink from a nearby hovercart which served as their toolbox and mobile shelf. "Jaynine! start reprograming that Nav! we'll finish up after lunch."

    Zeek was tall for a maintenance worker, nearly 1.9 meters, which made it difficult for him to climb around in the cramped engine compartments and crawl spaces of the shuttles. Raigen wasn't much shorter, but his duramesh coated body was all but immune to scrapes, scratches, and mild burns as he pulled himself out of the inspection hatch. Raigen pulled off the oil covered black overalls. His gray battle dress pants were crease free, a benefit of the material, and his black tank top revealed the cold gray skin replacement that covered him from the neck down.

Raigen and Zeek left the hanger, turning fore and past the Officer's Club and Pilot's quarters. Raigen had been offered to keep his bunk. He could barely look in the direction of them now. He did anyway, knowing it may be the last time he saw the inside of the ship.
SCRW Raigen Tei-Yehn/FM 12/Cresh Flight/118th Wildfire Squadron/25th Desolation Wing/VSD-II Dead Gun/2nd Fleet Detached Force Alpha/2nd DEP Naval Warfare/VEN/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2]
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[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited August 16, 2024 2:51:55 PM)]
Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  1365
Total Posts:  1386
Joined:  Dec 2005
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  RE: VSDII Dead Gun: Fire and Ice
July 30, 2024 8:36:48 AM    View the profile of Raigen 
[One standard year later]

    Last Hope sat betwixt the border of the New Republic and Corporate Sector Authority space. Last Hope had been a tibana mining facility in the High Republic centuries before and had only been recolonized during the Empire as a refueling station and a last ditch marketplace to sell goods that would otherwise be seized by Imperial or CSA customs. Prior to the rebellion, the station was a sort of catch all for pirates and smugglers alike, but as the rebellion grew, the station became a haven for displaced rebels and refugees.

    The end of the war saw the end of the colony, or so one would have thought. Not long after the refugee camps cleared out to recolonize the new republic or return to their homeworlds, Last Hope saw a new flood of Imperial deserters. Disgraced pilots, cowardly army troopers, even a handful of officers seeking to avoid the martial courts of the NR.  As more and more Imperial Remnants fell, Last Hope would swell with inhabitants until it was once again a bustling city in space for the galaxy's unwanted antiheroes.

    A modest assortment of oversized and outdated hanger bays dotted the asteroid complex. It was Hanger 13 on the "north" end of the satellite that Raigen had leased from what passed for the local authorities on Last Hope. Within months, he had become the choice technician for spacers in need of everything from hyperdrive tuneups to new IFF transponders.

    Raigen squinted through the shaded visor of the heat shield as he put the finishing touches on the weld. The JV-100 ion engines were heavier and less fuel efficient the previous engines, but Raigen hoped to cut drag in atmospheric flight by replacing the five JV-80s that had originally been adhoc installed onto this older model with three of these newer, larger power units. The Gozanti was a relic, likely left over from the Republic and used as a civilian freighter for years before being left to rust in one of Last Hopes hangers. Raigen had overpaid for it, he knew, at seventy thousand credits, but he was unlikely to find another ship that was suited to his needs. R3-K3 whirred from below.

    "All done." he said as he lifted his visor. Although his eyes had been replaced, the bright flash of the welder could overload the digital sensors in his prosthetics. "Let's rig up one of the loadlifters to her and run a stress test before we do a shakedown."

    Kay three, R3-K3, was actually a retrofitted R2 unit he renamed and reprogrammed with a backup version of the original Kaythree's personality matrix. The original R3-K3's memory core had burnt up around the same time as his locomotive servos had begun to degrade. Although it pained him to do so, he'd scrapped the old R3 unit and used the parts to retrofit this one.

    Raigen stood up on the engine pylon and surveyed his work, realizing in that moment he'd neglected to name the ship, If it could be called a ship. The once rustbucket of a starship had been his figurative last hope of turning a profit in an area of space where the cost of parts was high and the demand for work was low. He muses to himself. .
"Last Resort"
SCRW Raigen Tei-Yehn/FM 12/Cresh Flight/118th Wildfire Squadron/25th Desolation Wing/VSD-II Dead Gun/2nd Fleet Detached Force Alpha/2nd DEP Naval Warfare/VEN/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2]
==================
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[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited July 30, 2024 8:57:53 AM)]
Raigen
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Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  1372
Total Posts:  1386
Joined:  Dec 2005
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  RE: VSDII Dead Gun: Fire and Ice
August 12, 2024 11:57:33 AM    View the profile of Raigen 
Raigen left Kaythree and the loader droid to finish welding the hullplates onto the new engines. A tedious process, each of the durasteel plates needed to be friction welded to each other via a special attachment on the loader droids arms. The rapidly rotating attachment head would apply enough pressure and heat to the material that it would bond both the surface molecules and those beneath, creating a bond that would withstand the immense forces of atmospheric reentry.

    Raigen's maintenance hanger connected to the rest of what would have been considered a shipping and receiving area in the spaceports original layout by way of large corridors with scattered bulk elevators and storage bays. In fact, on most days, Raigen would have been happy to have utilized a loader skiff to traverse the quarter mile or so to the "spine" of Last Hope, had there been a functional one available. Instead, he beat feet past the shuttered bays, some with their emergency air lock doors engaged, indicating a structural failure on the exterior. There was little traffic in this area as most of the old makeshift businesses that inhabited this area of the station had made off for new worlds within the decades following the formation of the New Republic.

    The spine, essentially a central pipeline leading from the polar north of the station housing the administravive and residential sectors and leading down through the industrial levels and into the old mines, terminated at the polar south of the asteroid in a network of docking points, cargo bays, and hangers.  Conduits, pipes, and elevator shafts for both personnel and cargo affixed themselves around the central tibanna pipe and it was one of the still working cargo shafts that Raigen boarded. Raigen swiped his resident badge over the control console and selected a level. Immediately, inertial dampners hummed to life as the platform rocketed upward at blistering speeds before coming to a stop. Raigen sighed and thanked the Maker as the stone in his gut failed to materialize, signaling a functional dampner unit. Had the unit failed, Raigen's insides would have shot through his head as the laws of physics enacted their cruel justice.
SCRW Raigen Tei-Yehn/FM 12/Cresh Flight/118th Wildfire Squadron/25th Desolation Wing/VSD-II Dead Gun/2nd Fleet Detached Force Alpha/2nd DEP Naval Warfare/VEN/VE (=*A*=)(=*SA*=)(=*BO*=)[VC:B][SWC][BRC][NS-2]
==================
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[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited August 12, 2024 11:57:55 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited August 12, 2024 5:57:02 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited August 12, 2024 6:08:22 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Raigen (edited August 16, 2024 11:59:51 AM)]
Raigen
ComNet Veteran
 
Raigen
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  1373
Total Posts:  1386
Joined:  Dec 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: VSDII Dead Gun: Fire and Ice
August 16, 2024 12:26:26 AM    View the profile of Raigen 
The main commercial area of Last Hope was situated roughly in the center of the asteroid in a cavernous mined vein long ago depleted of its precious tibana gas. Popup durasteel huts mixed here with more permanent administrative offices, although all equally in a mild state of disrepair. Raigen shuffled through the light crowd of street vendors and toward one of the larger durasteel halls.

    The Musty Mynock was originally a commissary set up for the miners.  Upon Last Hope's transition to a more disreputable venue for spacers, it had been converted into a cantina of sorts, but the long rows of low tables fit to feed platoons of workers remained and the typical lighting and decoration fitting a bar were scarce if not absent. Food was served, however, and Raigen ordered his usual ronto wrap, a mixture of greens, sauce, stuffed ronto innards, and roasted bantha shoulder meat on unleavened bread.

    Taking his tray from the vendor, the same trays left by the miners upon Last Hope's desertion, he found a booth near one of the wall's corners and sat down to both eat his fill and rest his mind from working in the Gozanti. The ship was in terrible condition when purchased and Raigen had to replace nearly every element of the vessel. That had turned out to be a six week ordeal of eighteen time part days. But now, the ship was nearly ready and Raigen was glad to have redone the ships systems by hand. Among other modifications, droid slave circuits had been added to allow him to operate the ship without the need for crew or copilot.

Raigen fingered the data pad from the pants pocket of his black flight suit and set it on the table. He reviewed work orders before becoming disinterested and switching to another screen where he examined the exchange board, a digital buy and sell marketplace for the station. Raigen was overlooking a particularly promissing tie prototype being sold by one of the local ex-imperialists.

    Raigen's thoughts were interrupted by a red blinking notification across his screen. The message, obviously encrypted, bore a familiar origin code known well to the recipient but meaningless to anyone else who might stumble across it. Raigen's brow curled with curiosity as he recognized the code and silently mouthed the translation, 'Dead Gun.'
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