When you are knocked out, no one tells you about the weird dreams you have, like the one I had about showing off my spaceship to my parents and using it to go through a drive-through at McDonalds or something. Thankfully, like any dream, you barely remember them when you wake up.
Unlike when Doc put me under and I woke up from being medically knocked out, waking up from being concussed by a physical event was much less pleasant. Especially when that event was falling out of orbit and hitting a planet.
Maybe I should start wearing a helmet all the time if I had to worry about this kind of stuff happening more often, but at least I had a thick skull, or so others said.
"Ugggggh," I groaned as I woke up, feeling pain all over but in general my body but still, most importantly, alive. "Who's not dead? Sound off."
"Da-damage detected," Launchpad spoke from next to me in a distorted voice as I tuned my head, finding the droid mostly intact, though part of his head was banged up and sparking a bit. "Sh-ship damaged as we-well, but I bro-brought her in as well as I-I could."
"I'm sure you did bud," I grunted as I unbuckled myself from my seat and stood up, grabbing the main console a bit as I realized the ship was at a bit of an angle. "How about you shut down for a bit, and I promise by the time you are awake you'll be all fixed up."
"Sounds go-good," Launchpad slurred a little as his eyes started going dim. "Po-powering down…"
"Good job, bud," I patted the now turned off droid on the back as I looked over the read-out for the ship itself. "Okay, certainly better than we have any right to be after barely getting the engines back on after hitting the ground, but gonna take some work to get her flying again…"
There was light damage to the overall superstructure, adding on to the battle damage she took earlier, but the Sleipnir was a tough girl and there were few critical systems alert. Sadly, one of those few was the communications array, so I would either need to fix that up or straight up buy a new one if I wanted to talk to anyone any time soon. Most of the internal damage was mostly minor things, though we would have to repair a few things we already had done earlier, which was annoying. Engines and hyperdrive, naturally, were the things in the worst shape and would take the most time to get back online, but hopefully wherever they landed had a decent starport to bring their ship to so that they can make repairs there rather than in the wilderness.
Speaking of which, based on what I could see outside the cockpit window, half buried in dirt as it was, and the scanners, at least the outside was safe in general atmospherically. I'd make sure to put on my helmet before going out anyway for safety, but it was good to know that the air wasn't gonna kill me at least.
I pressed the button to lower the landing gear with the hope it wasn't broken, wincing a bit as the ship groaned as it deployed it and raised it up from where it was partly buried in the ground. "Okay, that didn't sound healthy, but at least it deployed and we aren't buried in the ground anymore… if still at a bit of an angle."
Now it was time to check on the rest of the crew.
I walked into the main living area of the ship, looking a little rattled around and some stuff littering the ground but intact, glad to find the triplets already tipping Sir Gonkington upright again. Other than them looking a bit banged up from the crash, nothing seemed to be out of place or overly damaged, and the second they saw me they excitedly ran up to me and rapidly spook Binary to me to ask about my overall health and such. It was kinda like having a couple of dogs, honestly.
"I'm fine, I'm fine," I assured them as I attempted to calm them down. "The ship's in worse shape than me, and she is already a pretty tough cookie in general. It's our job now to get her back up into shape, or as much as we can till we find a decent starport on this rock. Huey, Dewey, and Louie, you guys do what you do best and go around repairing what you can, focusing on critical systems and bigger stuff first. Gonkington, just emergency power is on until we get an idea of how our power core is doing, so you are gonna be our main source of power until we get that back online. Launchpad sustained some damage from the crash, but I plan to fix him up as soon as I check on everyone else. Alright, let's get to work!"
"(Fix the ship!/Ship needs fixing!/Home ship needs work!)" the triplets all shouted before rushing off, Huey grabbing a toolbox and lagging behind others a little, while Gonkington excitedly plodded behind.
"(Power to all!)" he gonked, making me chuckle a little as I went through the rest of the ship to inspect everything.
Most everything seemed alright, but they'd need to remove some wall panels and such to make sure the insides of the vessel were alright and double-check critical systems better so they didn't get a repeat of what caused the crash in the first place later on. There was random debris and items on the ground, but it was nothing super important and couldn't be cleared up quickly due to lacking any more organic crew members besides myself, which given the crash was actually a good thing at the moment. Triplets were no doubt already moving through maintenance crawlspaces to look for stuff there, technical station wasn't reporting anything wrong with the power core, but would have one of them check that out later to be sure, and the cargo bay looked alright so far, a few things shifted around but still mostly tied down… except for one thing that was currently pinning one of my crew members.
"Oh! You survived the crash, Sir! I was afraid you hadn't given your naturally feeble organic constitution," Thing 2 informed me from under a crate of proton torpedoes, his head the only thing sticking out from the fallen container currently pinning down his chest.
"Two! How the heck did this happen?" I asked as I rushed over to try and free him.
"When you announced our imminent crash landing, I calculated the best thing I could do was make sure our various munitions were properly secure so that none were prematurely activated once we made landfall," Thing 2 explained as I tried to figure out a way to move the crate. "Most everything was in order, until I found this crate was not adequately secured and thus made to make it so. However, we crashed as I was doing so and, as I predicted, the crate came loose and hit me with a great degree of force before I could properly magnetize myself, knocking my gyros out of synchronization."
"I was wondering why you hadn't pushed this thing off you yet since I know you are way stronger than I am," I commented, eventually deciding the crate was too heavy for me to lift on my own without getting my powersuit on, so I just decided to opened up and take out the torpedoes out one at a time until it was light enough. "Just give me a minute."
Eventually the crate was light enough to move and I was able to get Thing 2 back on his feet, though he was noticeably unbalanced.
"Thank you, Sir, though I'm afraid I will require maintenance if I am to assist in repairing the ship at maximum efficiency," Thing 2 pointed out.
"Don't worry, I'll get right on that," I assured him. "Just take it easy for a moment while I check on Doc and the rest of the ship."
"I shall stand by, Sir," Thing 2 nodded at me, which I returned before I headed for the medical bay.
Thankfully, the worst thing there was a rather irritable medical droid doing what he can to clean up the place after the crash, and then forcibly looking me over once I walked in. All the while his dry wit was in full effect.
"I must say, Sir, after escaping from a starfighter battle, most other organics would do the best they could to avoid further dangerous situations for at least another day, if not longer," Doc said as he treated my many bruises, hairline fractures, and possible brain damage with his various devices, speeding up recovery by a great deal. "However, I find myself needing to clean up my medical bay twice today due to that and a rather turbulent emergency landing. Are there any underlying mental disorders I should be on the lookout for that you did not disclose to me?"
"Nope, I'm just naturally stupid," I chuckled, wincing only a little as he put a bacta patch on me, with the pain quickly going away after that.
"Then I'm afraid I do not have a reliable treatment for that," Doc seemed to sigh before stepping back. "All I can ask is that you at least attempt not to do any more dangerous or overly strenuous activities until you are fully healed."
"The ship needs repairing, but I will try to keep it light. Thanks Doc. As always, you're the best," I said as I put back on my clothes and helmet. "Just hang out here just in case my stupidity gets me injured again."
"It is what I'm programmed for, Sir," Doc said as he went back to cleaning up his medical bay while I exited it.
I did one final sweep of the inside of the ship, finding most things alright for the most part if a bit messy and in need of some at least minor work, but seeing the engines and hyperdrive in person was most clearly a splash of cold water as I inspected their fried and damaged state. They could be fixed enough to at least get sublight flight back online, but we wouldn't be going into hyperspace any time soon, even with good repairs.
"Well… if nothing else it gives me an excuse to upgrade," I muttered to myself. "Now for the outside…"
The entry ramp, like the landing gear, groaned and scraped as it opened, pointing to being dented out of place or something being damaged, but it did open after only a little bit of extra time and I only needed to bend down a little bit to get out from under the ship. I was grateful for this, since I was in no mood to climb out of any of the outer hull airlocks and quite happy to actually walk out onto solid ground… Well, mostly solid after the crash threw up a lot of dirt.
"Well, any crash you can walk away from is a good one, and all that," I muttered to myself as I looked everything over.
As somewhat planned, we had crashed in a mostly empty grassy field, only broken up by the long dirt trail the Sleipnir had left in her wake until she half planted herself into the ground and got really dirty in the process. And that was on top of the battle damage from earlier and little bit of new damage from the crash, but thankfully it seemed to be minor since we picked a relatively soft place to land and were actually able to slow down some beforehand. Either way, she was in need of lots of love and attention to be at 100% again, but nothing seemed critical and would prevent her from flying to a better place for repairs… though the bottom turret would need some work after being dragged through the ground.
Given the task at hand, it might be better to get some extra help for this project.'
With that in mind, I pulled up SFO and looked for a good repair droid that would work well in directing the triplets and would overall be more knowledgeable than me at repair work. Thankfully, there was a model in mind that would work, if a bit pricey. Besides, nothing says I couldn't sell it off once it was no longer needed.
Making my purchase, what appeared before me was a brand new LE-series repair droid, 12.8k credits, that I quickly turned on. Despite being made by a different company, the LE-series had a very similar body plan to Doc's own model, making me wonder if they shared a designer or something down the line somewhere.
The droid sprung to life, looked around, and quickly spotted the ship.
"I suppose that is what I was brought online to fix?" The shiny new LE droid, asked as he pointed at the Sleipnir.
"Pretty much," I nodded. "I need to get her up and running at least enough to get her to a spaceport or at least a better overall area to work on her, since I'm not leaving without her. If it helps, I've got a team of DUMs, a battle droid who knows battlefield maintenance, and my own self-taught self to help out too, along with any tools or materials you need. You think you can work with that?"
"Well… certainly not in the worst condition, so it should be possible to at least get replusorlifts and basic thrust working again," Lee, for lack of a better way to refer to him, hummed to himself before nodding. "Yeah Boss, I can make that work, assuming nothing else is too badly broken."
"Hey! I'll have you know that considering what we just went through, I think she is holding up pretty well!" I fired back, wondering what kind of idiot designed a repair droid with a bad attitude set as its default personality matrix.
A panel fell off the ship and landed on the ground with a loud thump.
"Ignore that," I said with a serious expression, I had more important things to do than reset Lee's aesthetic of 'cranky engineering chief'. What a dumbass programmer… Who possibly thought that was a good idea?
"You're the boss, Boss" Lee walked off towards the ship, making me sigh at imagining all the unflattering things the droid was likely saying in his head before turning towards the ship as well.
"Alright girl, let's get you airborne again," I whispered to my injured ship as I patted the side of her carbon scored hull.
Contrary to my words, I didn't immediately get started on the ship, I had a few crewmembers that needed some help getting fixed first.
Thing 2 was relatively easy to fix since he was already pretty tough in general, what with being a battle droid and all, and just needed his gyros synced back up so that he could properly balance himself again and thus use his enhanced limbs to their full potential again. I just had to shut them down, turn them on one at a time, and make sure they all were talking to each other right again. It took, like, a little half an hour max to make sure those were all working again and none of his other systems were out of whack, but other than some cosmetic denting from the heavy crate landing on him he was fine and eager to assist in the repairs, falling in line under Lee's supervision alongside the pits.
Launchpad, by comparison, took more time and work since his droid brain was pretty banged up from the crash in general.
I worked on him for a few hours, buying the needed parts and calling in Lee for help if I wasn't sure about something, with my downloaded knowledge really coming in handy as I slowly fixed up his mind. I could have bought and installed a new brain, but then it wouldn't be Launchpad anymore and I very much didn't want that to be the case, since I had bonded with my pilot pretty well so far. He was very reliable and eager to please, while also very patient in teaching me how to fly and going along with my crazy plans despite the danger. And besides, after a while with no memory wipe he was basically a person now, and so deserved as much care as any organic being.
So yeah, I put in the extra work to fix him up since that was what friends did, taking out the broken pieces of droid brain and putting in new ones sourced from a few other pilot droid brains and parts bought over SFO to try and increase his overall abilities. while keeping his overall memory, hopefully, intact. That dogfight on Bracca would have gone better had he had some upgrades, after all.
Some of the ability to be discreet from a FA-4, the competent and friendly nature of his model's precursor, the AC series, and the versatility and adaptability, and the extra arm, of a GD16-series. I had to increase the head space in Launchpad a bit, making it look like he kind of had a hat on, but I think I did pretty well.
"There we go, good as new," I stated proudly as I closed up the back of Launchpad's head and sealed it with my hydrospanner. "Wake up now, Launchpad buddy."
I turned the droid on, and thankfully he booted up with no issues as he turned to face me.
"Woah, what happened?" Launchpad asked in a dazed-sounding tone as he spun his head and various parts around before focusing on me. "Oh, Nick, you're alive! I guess that means we had a very successful crash!"
"That's one way of putting it," I admitted, a little confused at Launchpad's more chipper than usual attitude. "You were a bit damaged, so I had to fix you up and even gave you a few upgrades. Everything check out so far with your self-dianostic?"
"Oh, I'm a little banged up, but you did a great job at getting my noodle in working order," Launchpad said with a thumbs up. "I'd trust no one else with my brain."
Yeaaaaaah, I think I might have not fixed him up as well as I thought.
"We'll get a second opinion later," I stated. "Right now, now that you are working again just take over ship-diagnostics while I get to fixing the ship alongside the rest of the crew."
"Will do, NC!" Launchpad said as he turned back to go over the ship controls, making me give him a weird look before I moved out of the cockpit.
"Yeah, I think I may have screwed something up while I was back there," I muttered to myself as I came into the main living area and saw Lee working at the power core's technical station. "So, what's the damage? Should I give up the idea of having kids or even living till next week?"
"Thankfully for your health, there were no radiation leaks. The power core's safety features were engaged before your crash so it can be turned on again once the power converters are completely repaired," Lee informed me. "The DUMs should have that ready in a short while. Most of the rest of the ship is banged up, but nothing some decent repair time won't fix beyond the hyperdrive and engines. We should have most things solved within a day or so. And once the power core is back online, you can move the ship to a better location. I will let you know if there is anything you should be aware of, but I can do that faster if I'm given space to work and not be interrupted."
"Sounds good!" I nodded, ignoring the jab at the end. "Gonna let you do all that while I see if I can't fix up the comms array a bit more. Want to check in with some friends about how they are-"
"Hey, Nick, we got some pretty large flyers coming in according to the scanners!" Launchpad said over the PA system. "But not sure it's working right since it's reading as organic. I didn't think birds got that big…"
Awww shit, just what we need! Some kind of super predator or something!
"Thing 2, head to the turret and stand by!" I yelled out as I rushed towards the cockpit to figure out what was going on. "What are we looking at Launchpad?!"
"Well, ah, those," he said as he pointed outside the cockpit and I immediately saw what he was referring to.
Namely the–and I had no other way to describe them–dragons currently fogging up the cockpit's viewport as they glared at us from outside. Seriously, the large exposed teeth, the horns on the side of their heads, the large bat-like wings on their backs, serpentine but muscular bodies held up by four large limbs ending in sharp claws, and the long tails sticking out the back ends that made them extend upwards of dozens of meters at least, longer than even the Sleipnir. I was looking at legit space dragons right now…
"Don't move a muscle…" I said quietly as the two dragons that I could see glared at us from outside, hoping they responded by movement or something so they'd eventually go away.
"I don't really have muscles, soooo… done?" Launchpad pointed out before suddenly a detail stood out to me about the dragons.
Well, other than the fact they were freaking space dragons, I noticed that as they shifted around they had something on their backs. Things that look suspiciously like saddles.
"But if those are saddles, where are the riders?" I asked aloud, only for a comm signal from Thing 2 went off in my helmet.
"Sir! We are being boarded! I repeat, we are-Ah!" his voice suddenly cut out, making me quickly turn around as the blast door to the cockpit was suddenly forced open.
"Ack!" I choked as a hand wrapped around my throat before I could even reach for my pistol.
I suddenly found myself being lifted up in the air, my feet dangling helplessly as a large armored white-furred tigerman had somehow gotten on my ship without me even noticing until just now, holding a very sharp-looking sword up to my neck.
"Nick!" Launchpad yelled in concern, but didn't move as a slightly smaller pantherman leveled a blaster rifle at him from behind the one holding me up, making him raise all four of his arms in surrender.
"Off-worlder," the tigerman holding me up legit growled at me. "You are trespassing upon Togorian soil, well outside of recognized landing areas. The act of which is punishable by death. Speak quickly in your defense, or be deemed hostiles that will be disposed of."
Well great…