Journal log: Entry Five
A pale face looks at a cracked console. A miniscule blot of blood drips from its nose onto the inside of a worn helmet. The fighter's cockpit is hauntingly silent but for the frantic heartbeat and slowing hyperventilation from the pilot. Stars roll past the nose of the craft as it tumbles in the pitch black void of space. An asteroid belt slips in and out of view as the small craft careens away from it.
The pilot forces himself to breathe normally. Shaky hands rise towards his face with a small datapad. A moment of button presses confirms that it still functions. The glow of the datapad is the only light to come from within the cockpit. A small red light glows in the corner of the tiny screen.
"If anyone finds these logs, bring them to the Republic cruiser Renegade. If you don't, the entire galaxy may fall to… to these Far Outsiders."
The figure takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment.
"Unless my R4 unit can fix my fighter's reactor, I may be dead before too long. Let me recap what just happened."
The figure's hand halfheartedly plays with the controls, knowing full well that they would refuse to respond.
"Two days ago I made a trade with some of the local merchants out here. Food, water, spare parts, and the sorts. I found one of their guys trying to steal my R4 while my back was turned. The droid fired off a shot from the tail gun to warn me. Clever little droid."
The pilot releases the flight stick. He reaches to his belt and manages to retrieve a worn metal flask. With the clatter of plastic striking plastic, the man frees his head from his helmet. He takes a long swig from his flask.
"Anyways, they managed to empty my cargo hold before I could get back and shoot them. I tracked them to this asteroid field, got in a bit of a sortie, and sent them into one of said asteroids. Their hull is probably still drifting with a whole lot of supplies on it."
The man is silent for a moment.
"And that's when I saw it."
He takes another swig.
"I've been across the galaxy, seen damn near anything there is to see, and shot almost everything in existence that shoots back. I don't know what that thing was, but I have a good guess."
A pause. The pilot hesitates, then reluctantly continues his story.
"It looked like it was made of multicolored stone or coral. Its weapons were like tiny volcanoes that threw gobs of plasma at us. Sensors read no electronics. No sensors. No jammers. No hyperdrive. No life support. Nothing. I asked for a jedi perspective on this thing flying out here, and that's when I got an answer I never thought I'd hear. 'I don't sense it," he said. It was clearly there and shooting at us. Radar picked it up as it would any other rock or debris floating in space, but it wasn't a machine, and it couldn't be picked up in the Force so it wasn't alive."
The man takes a breath to calm himself.
"It danced through the sky like a trifighter or a Delta 7. My 170 was no match. These things aren't meant to turnfight or outrun interceptors, and mine was loaded with extra sensors and cargo so I had a far worse time. What shots I managed to pull off… This may sound crazy, but I swear I saw them veer off course as if they were being slingshotted away. I think I even saw one or two disappear completely before they could make contact with the craft."
The pilot is silent for a moment. Memories of his encounter just twenty minutes prior flash through his mind like burning metal searing flesh. He forces himself to continue.
"Its first shot at me missed. Its second ignored my shields and ate through my upper port stabilizer. Melted it like acid. I tried weaving through the asteroid field, but it was more nimble and had an easier time than I did. I pulled up sharp to exit the field and hopefully make it ram something, but it fired off a shot and rolled out of the way. The shot melted straight through the cockpit behind me. An inch closer, and I'd be in a vacuum. A bit behind and I'd have lost a Jedi and a droid. I was lucky, if you can call being set adrift in an asteroid field deep in the Unknown Regions without anyone for countless lightyears who would even consider helping you 'lucky.'"
The man sighed and lowered his datapad to his knees. In the zero gravity it was more of a symbolic gesture than a practical one.
"Razgriz One signing off. May whatever gods exist help us."
The only light in the cockpit goes out.
A pale face looks at a cracked console. A miniscule blot of blood drips from its nose onto the inside of a worn helmet. The fighter's cockpit is hauntingly silent but for the frantic heartbeat and slowing hyperventilation from the pilot. Stars roll past the nose of the craft as it tumbles in the pitch black void of space. An asteroid belt slips in and out of view as the small craft careens away from it.
The pilot forces himself to breathe normally. Shaky hands rise towards his face with a small datapad. A moment of button presses confirms that it still functions. The glow of the datapad is the only light to come from within the cockpit. A small red light glows in the corner of the tiny screen.
"If anyone finds these logs, bring them to the Republic cruiser Renegade. If you don't, the entire galaxy may fall to… to these Far Outsiders."
The figure takes a deep breath and pauses for a moment.
"Unless my R4 unit can fix my fighter's reactor, I may be dead before too long. Let me recap what just happened."
The figure's hand halfheartedly plays with the controls, knowing full well that they would refuse to respond.
"Two days ago I made a trade with some of the local merchants out here. Food, water, spare parts, and the sorts. I found one of their guys trying to steal my R4 while my back was turned. The droid fired off a shot from the tail gun to warn me. Clever little droid."
The pilot releases the flight stick. He reaches to his belt and manages to retrieve a worn metal flask. With the clatter of plastic striking plastic, the man frees his head from his helmet. He takes a long swig from his flask.
"Anyways, they managed to empty my cargo hold before I could get back and shoot them. I tracked them to this asteroid field, got in a bit of a sortie, and sent them into one of said asteroids. Their hull is probably still drifting with a whole lot of supplies on it."
The man is silent for a moment.
"And that's when I saw it."
He takes another swig.
"I've been across the galaxy, seen damn near anything there is to see, and shot almost everything in existence that shoots back. I don't know what that thing was, but I have a good guess."
A pause. The pilot hesitates, then reluctantly continues his story.
"It looked like it was made of multicolored stone or coral. Its weapons were like tiny volcanoes that threw gobs of plasma at us. Sensors read no electronics. No sensors. No jammers. No hyperdrive. No life support. Nothing. I asked for a jedi perspective on this thing flying out here, and that's when I got an answer I never thought I'd hear. 'I don't sense it," he said. It was clearly there and shooting at us. Radar picked it up as it would any other rock or debris floating in space, but it wasn't a machine, and it couldn't be picked up in the Force so it wasn't alive."
The man takes a breath to calm himself.
"It danced through the sky like a trifighter or a Delta 7. My 170 was no match. These things aren't meant to turnfight or outrun interceptors, and mine was loaded with extra sensors and cargo so I had a far worse time. What shots I managed to pull off… This may sound crazy, but I swear I saw them veer off course as if they were being slingshotted away. I think I even saw one or two disappear completely before they could make contact with the craft."
The pilot is silent for a moment. Memories of his encounter just twenty minutes prior flash through his mind like burning metal searing flesh. He forces himself to continue.
"Its first shot at me missed. Its second ignored my shields and ate through my upper port stabilizer. Melted it like acid. I tried weaving through the asteroid field, but it was more nimble and had an easier time than I did. I pulled up sharp to exit the field and hopefully make it ram something, but it fired off a shot and rolled out of the way. The shot melted straight through the cockpit behind me. An inch closer, and I'd be in a vacuum. A bit behind and I'd have lost a Jedi and a droid. I was lucky, if you can call being set adrift in an asteroid field deep in the Unknown Regions without anyone for countless lightyears who would even consider helping you 'lucky.'"
The man sighed and lowered his datapad to his knees. In the zero gravity it was more of a symbolic gesture than a practical one.
"Razgriz One signing off. May whatever gods exist help us."
The only light in the cockpit goes out.
