Fiction Activity

Competition
Endgame
Textual submission

**The Nattering Ninnies**

It was easy to see that the *Century Hawk's* Nav computer was down for the count.

The smell of acid ozonated air and fried metallic circuitry filled the rear hold of the YT-1300.

Miklik and Fozzy quickly made themselves scarce as it was clear the ships Co-owners and Co-Captains Karracca and Reece were about to have one of their raging arguments.

“Overloaded? Why in the name of Alderaan would our NavComp be that overloaded that it literally meltsdowns.” Karracca roared in Shryiwook.

“I dunno, I was having it do some extra calculations to help me rebuild my astrogation catalog.”

“How many extra calculations?” 

“Not many. Like maybe a couple billion.” Reece replied non-chalantly.

“Billions?” Karracca was incensed. Sure he empathize with his Co-Owners recent memory loss and his desire to regain the lost data. But this was beyond the pale. Now they were stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no NavComp.

After several more.minutes of furious debate they eventually came up with a plan to try and deal with their current conundrum. Luckily Kalen and the *Corra VIII* would be able to swing by and drop off a new computer for them in about 3 days. All they had to do was land on a nearby planet that had a breathable atmosphere and wait for their buddy to arrive.

After making the arrangements and forwarding the coordinates to Kalen, Reece activated the ship's intercom, “All crew please assemble in the galley.”

“I can't believe you sometimes dude.” Karracca grumbled as he followed the R9 out of the cockpit.

“Whatever, Sith happens, suck it up, big guy.” Reece tootled and bootled as he rolled down the corridor in the central galley.

When they arrived the motley crew was already assembled. The three droids and the middle aged Ewok gunner/weapons tech were all visibly concerned about what the future would hold, as they had all seen the remnants of the NavComps molten guts spewed out on the floor of the engineering nook in the main hold.

“Alright listen up. We're basically dead in the water, but a pal of ours is going to come and drop off a new NavComp in about 3 days. The bad news is, we will have to land on a nearby planet and go on a power rationing regime.”

When he heard the word ration Miklik's shoulders slumped and his head sunk into his chest. He figured it was back to eating stale beans for.

The little gunner groaned and rubbed his tummy.

Fozzy said, “I think he means rationing our power systems to save fuel, not actual food.”

Miklik visibly perked up before asking, “Wait, what does that mean for all of your droids?“ 

“We'll need to power down to save battery life for a few extra hours, but nothing too serious.” Reece remarked.

“Well, why don't you go ahead and have a shower Miklik, we might as well use up the last of the on-demand hot water since we'll be turning off all non-essential auxiliary system.” Karracca nodded to the Endor native.

“How much?” Miklik inquired, sounding skeptical of the whole proposition.

“What do you mean? It's free. Wait, is that why you don't shower? You think we're going to dock your pay?” Karracca put his hands on his hips and turned to Reece.

“Don't look at me. I didn't say anything to him about it.”

Fozzy interjected, “Our former employer used to charge Master Miklik 15 credits each time he put extra strain on shipa life support systems.”

After a few more minutes of Reece and Karracca explaining the basics of our they run their ship, and all the stuff that their crew members WERE allowed to do and use, a signal chirp came from the cockpit. Apparently they were approaching their destination.

“We're here, everyone get ready for landing.”

“I just want to state for the record, this entire situation is his fault.” Karracca growled and pointed at Reece as he rolled out of the room.