Ship of the Dead

Ship of the Dead

• Principal Authors: David Brightsky (DasGeneral)
• Who can post on this thread: Any
• I want to receive critical responses: Yes
• I will be using standard Universe rules here (e.g., canon-only, fleet limits, etc.): Yes

Location: Outside Adumar System, away from major shipping lanes

Timeframe: 45ABY


David Brightsky begins his journey on board an abandoned Old Republic Thranta-Class Corvette deep in Wild Space. Working furiously with his T3 Utility Droid to get the ship operational, David dreams of better days.


The light of distant stars filtered through the old viewing windows on the bridge of the Thranta-Class Corvette. It was an ancient ship, thousands of years old, abandoned at the height of the Cold War between the Old Republic and their Sith opponents. Its crew was long dead, their bones turned to dust, their memory faded and lost to the sands of time. In the cold vacuum of space, the Thranta¬ was a mausoleum to the failed mission of the Old Republic. Its computer banks silent, its engines cold an inert. Outside the major shipping lanes, lightyears away from the planet Dantooine, and left to follow the laws of gravity and orbital mechanics, the ship drifted further and further away from civilization. That is, until David Brightsky found the ship and brought it somewhat back to life.
In the bridge, the command pit, once the beating heart of the ancient corvette, was now covered with old wiring and what appeared to be puddles of coating grease for circuitry and power conduits.

Mutterings and half-spoken curses echoed in the bridge, as a small T-3 utility droid and its master busily worked to bring the ship back to life.

“D4, can you hand me that power coupling,” said the aggravated sounding man, half his body inside a service tube.

The small utility droid’s arm gracefully picked up the small bracelet-shaped object and dutifully handed it to the outstretched hand of its master.

“Thanks little buddy,” said Brightsky in a sentimental tone of voice.

Inside the service tube, David was quickly attaching the object to an exposed power conduit, which was thankfully inert for the moment. He used a small tool in his right hand to tighten the connecting bolts and insert the connecting wires to the coupling. Moving with an almost practiced grace, Brightsky shoved himself out of the service tube, stood up, and flicked a small switch on the engineering console. He was rewarded for his work by a pleasant humming and the activation of computer consoles.

“Now that’s more like it!” Said Brightsky, obviously proud of his work as various lights and consoles began to activate, emitting buzzes and beeps that had not been heard on the ship since its crew abandoned it so many millennia ago.

Brightsky picked up a small bowl sitting on the edge of the engineering console and using a pair of chopsticks began shoveling copious amounts of brown noodles and bits of meat into his mouth.

“I’m telling you D4, once we get this baby up and running it’s going to make my rebuild of the Star’s End look like child’s play.” Brightsky declared to his utility droid. D4 responded with an excited stream of beeps and hoots. Brightsky grinned and patted the small droid on the top of his disk-shaped head.

“And, I promise when we get back to Adumar, we’ll pick up a few astromech droids to keep you company, and get some more spare parts to get you back to full operational status!”

D4 responded to this was another stream of excited beeps and hoots, his stubby legs lifting him off the floor a few inches to show his excitement.

Brightsky made his way up the small ramp to the command stations at the front of the bridge. Flipping a few toggle switches, the monitors came to life at the station, showing a structural read-out of the ship. Brightsky pressed a small scroll button while continuing to shove noodles and meat into his mouth.

“Well this is going to be more work than I thought D4. We’ve got serious damage to the fire control circuits, two of the bow attitude thrusters are inoperative, and the left fighter-bay has structural damage to the launch doors. Both of the turbolaser cannons are down and in need of repair, half of the laser turrets need repairs, our concussion missile launchers are functional but stocks are depleted, the Ion cannon is functional but barely, and our deflector shields are running at 30% capacity. Well, looks like we’re not going into any battles any time soon,” Brightsky said in a defeated tone of voice.

“Alright, there is some good news. The fighters are still onboard, all fourteen of them, as well as two of the three bombers and all of the Fortitude-class assault shuttles. This armament might be older than Yoda, but it can at least put up a fight if we run into anyone. The hyperdrive motivator we fixed is still online and holding, the sublight engines are in good working order. The atmosphere systems are holding and we’ve got consistent oxygen flow. I don’t see why after a few weeks in dry-dock and some upgrades to the weapons and shield systems we won’t be able to take this out with a crew and make some money. The design is still sound, and we can replace the fighters and bombers with more modern designs, or at least upgrade the current fighters with modern engines and blasters. All in all D4, I think we struck it big this time!” D4 responded with an enthusiastic hoot.

As he flipped through the readouts on the command station, Brightsky couldn’t help but wonder about the crew’s fate. He was able to pull up the mission logs of the commander, but to Brightsky’s dismay they were encrypted and he was no master code-breaker. It was at that moment that Brightsky stopped to admire the ship he was currently standing in.

The Thranta was not just some old corvette, it was a symbol of everything that the Old Republic stood for. Consoles and hull, unlike the newer CR-90’s or any of the imperial vessels, were gracefully streamlined, rounded edges and curves spoke of craftsmanship and true care about not just the power of the vessel, but its appearance as well. Most of the ships that Brightsky had worked on or operated were of similar design characteristics, boxy and uniform, no grace or style, with more concern placed on ship’s functions and how many turbolasers could be brought to bear on the target. This ship, and his personal freighter the Star’s End reflected what Brightsky considered to be a more civilized time in galactic history, when wars were fought for the right reasons, and the galaxy was in balance. Instead, he mused to himself, he was doomed to live in uncertain and unsettled, even dangerous, times. This ship and her sister-ships served with distinction for a thousand years, creating an era of peace and unity that had not been seen since the formation of the Empire.

He was shaken out of his thoughts by a readout that flashed by him.

“D4, scanners indicate that we’ve got a slight loss of pressure in the lower cargo hold. Here’s what I want you to do, get down to the fighter bay and see if you can’t get the doors open on the right hand side of the bay. We need to find enough space to get the Star’s End into the fighter bay and get the doors closed, otherwise we’re going to have to leave her out here and risk having her stolen. Before you do that, get down to the lower cargo hold and see what’s causing the loss of pressure. We can’t have the lower half of the ship depressurize.”

“Then, get those doors open, get the Star’s End into that fighter bay any way you can, and let’s be on our way to Adumar. The less time we spend out here, the better. We don’t know if anyone else has decided to try their hand at traveling by other routes, and I would rather not find out.”

With that, David Brightsky and his trusty droid, T3-D4 went to work resurrecting a ship of the dead and bringing her back to the world of the living.