Vija and Vaja put on their gray-purple military uniforms and headed toward the surface hangars.
Both slaves felt good; on the one hand, their situation had improved, as the chance of dying in the Academy was exponentially higher.
On the other hand, they did not want to die! Given their abilities, any Jedi would easily dispatch them.
They didn't even know how to fence with a lightsaber. Right now, they needed to do everything possible to prove their worth to Kreso.
They used a horizontal turbolift; this mechanism was something new and exotic to them.
There were no such lifts in the Sith Empire; most similar functions were performed by specialized beasts.
Soon they arrived at a gigantic rectangular building. The lift ascended vertically along the wall and allowed them to step inside.
At the very end, the platform stopped at the administration desk. The slaves nodded to each other, then Vasja stepped forward to ask about the training.
"Good afternoon, we have been assigned to pilot adaptation courses."
The human at the desk pulled out a datapad; Vija and Vaja sent their authorization and waited to be registered.
"Good afternoon, your instructor will be here shortly. Glory to Tulak Hord! Death to the Jedi!"
They did not ask what he was shouting or why. The girls mimicked his movements and words.
"Glory to Tulak Hord! Death to the Jedi!"
Watching the human, they decided to steer clear of the results of Imperial propaganda. They cared nothing for the Overlord, and they hadn't seen a Jedi since childhood.
Right now, they only needed to think about how to demonstrate their value; then they would be able to receive knowledge of Force techniques from their master.
The human nodded to them and returned to his work; the Twi'leks stepped away to a sofa and quietly waited for the instructor.
Five minutes later, an alien they had never seen in the Empire appeared. He was dressed in an Alsakan pilot uniform, but his face made the girls suppress their disgust.
The Empire disliked aliens that looked vastly different from humans or Sith, and Twi'leks enjoyed the second-highest tolerance after humans.
The labor slaves were loyal to the Empire, while the two girls were Force-sensitive acolytes who had entered the Academy. Right now, they tried to suppress their xenophobia and racism, but they absolutely would not let this spawn within a meter of them.
"Follow me, ask questions when something is unclear. We will begin the course as soon as we reach Hangar 31."
They followed him in silence, trying to maintain distance and endure his presence.
The building was massive; it took them half an hour to reach the necessary room.
Looking around, they saw dozens of different small aircraft. Technicians were running everywhere, and some fighters had literally been stripped down to spare parts.
"Let's start with the basics. We have the 12th Alsakan conflict here. This is a limited war without the participation of the Republic Army. Your Empire operates only five types of small ships."
The man pointed to one of the fighters. It featured an elongated fuselage with angular contours, and a round pilot cockpit was located at the nose. Barrels of laser cannons were rigidly fixed on the sides and directly under the cockpit.
The fuselage tapered toward the tail section. Short, massive horizontal pylons extended from the sides of the central hull, mounting an outboard engine nacelle.
"AI-15, the 'Bug-Eye', is the backbone of Alsakan light aviation. The licenses for it were purchased from the Hoersch-Kessel corporation, and then Corellian engineers modernized it. Four cannons, good shielding, a small silhouette, excellent visibility from the cockpit, but the price bites. Even full domestic production costs 400,000 credits."
The man walked to the rear of the interceptor and picked up a hammer lying nearby. Taking aim, he struck the vertical stabilizer mount.
The part fell out, and the pilot's hand already held one of the stabilizers. He set it aside and explained his actions.
"An atmospheric environment is extremely different from space. This interceptor is designed for space, but sometimes it must operate on a planet. Tail stabilizers are only needed in an atmosphere; this small part increases maneuverability by 32%."
Vija and Vaja looked at the design; it was vastly different from the various Sith fighters they had flown.
They lacked combat experience, but intuition told them this design was more effective. Empire fighters contained too many decorative elements.
The pilot had already walked over to the next ship and tapped on the cockpit. This model had a classic winged design, but it was far too angular, and the two cockpits were very small.
"AS-12. In theory, it is a small strike ship, but if you hang torpedoes on the pylons, this ugly thing turns into a target. Coruscant didn't like this ship, so Alsakan bought the production rights from Republic Fleet Systems."
The man opened the upper cockpit, and the girls confirmed their doubts. There was no space in the cockpit at all; a long flight would be impossible.
"Four weak cannons, a poor shield, a large silhouette, terrible visibility from the cockpit, but the price is super-low. Production costs a mere 157,000 credits. I do not advise using this brick for orbital combat; the wings are here for beauty and as torpedo racks."
They looked at an almost identical ship parked nearby, and the pilot nodded, understanding their interest. He walked over and opened the cockpit; this time, the pilot's cabin was of an acceptable size, but visibility was still too restricted.
"SF-1, your Empire's first interceptor, but it cannot be considered a different ship—just a successful modernization. Your engineers cut off the second cockpit and the strike capabilities, and the freed-up space allowed for cheaper production and reinforced shields. You build it for 134,000 credits, but even Alsakan has shifted to mass-producing this ugly thing."
Changing the cockpit did not alter the ship's internal components; it was still an interceptor unified by spare parts.
Vasja looked at the ships, but her eyes stopped in the right corner of the hangar. A dusty ship hadn't been operated for years, and there were no engineers nearby. It felt as though everyone had forgotten about it, but she sensed its desire to take flight once more.
"Is that a local modernization too? It looks different from the standard Bug-Eye. What model is that?"
The man turned his head, then shook it in disappointment.
"That is an old hangar resident, the AI-14. It is an example of why one shouldn't build an interceptor pushing extreme parameters. A ship should unlock a pilot's capabilities, but this bastard is far too demanding of its partners."
The pilot walked over and brushed the dust off the cockpit. Alsakan immediately abandoned the idea, but the Empire still produced a few craft.
"Is that the previous model? It looks barely different from the AI-15."
The instructor opened the cockpit and turned on the reactor. The process was slow and took a few minutes.
The girls watched the ship activate; they were already eager to fly.
"Now I will show you a trick."
The pilot leaned in to press one of the buttons, then grasped the secondary joystick and twisted it sideways.
The engine nacelles began to rotate: they turned 180 degrees, then 360. For several minutes he played with the controls and set every possible vector; each of the four engines had its own independent rotation mechanism. The pilot could change the angle to whatever position he needed.
"Magnetic mounts allow you to manipulate the engine vector. If an enemy is pursuing you, you can reverse the vector and fly backward. In theory, turn-fighting allows you to outmaneuver any enemy fighter."
He closed the cockpit and shook his head. In theory, everyone is an ace, but on the battlefield, everything is different.
"Only a couple of Force-sensitive pilots can use this. The price of this interceptor exceeds a million credits; it has better shields and engines, but most pilots cannot bring out even 20% of its effectiveness."
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At the very end, he approached a white-and-gold craft that featured an entirely different paint scheme. Fighters were made from the cheapest alchemical iron, but this shuttle looked like a Sith Lord's personal residence.
"A beautiful, modern small transport ship. The TS-133 is the workhorse of your Empire's strike teams. Without it, our red-sabered Jedi cannot kill enemy Jedi."
Both Twi'leks were acolytes, so the pilot insulted their dignity. Vija couldn't tolerate the humiliation and spoke up:
"There are no Jedi in the Sith Empire."
The man shrugged and continued showing them the ship.
"What's the difference, it's all the same. This shuttle costs 370,000 credits; the licenses were privatized from a Kuat subsidiary. These four cannons are of full corvette standard. Interceptor shields wouldn't survive a single hit, but the ship itself can resist bombardment for a few minutes. That is why it desperately needs external radiators."
The man walked up and ran his hand along the side panels.
"In an emergency, they can even act as temporary armor. There is also a model with torpedoes on the roof, but your pilots don't fly those. Today's training will take place precisely on this craft."
The pilot pointed to a far corner where a three-winged ship was visible.
"Before we begin the test flight: over there is the DR-04 Mk11. At the moment, it is a Republic Army interceptor. Coruscant purchased a massive batch for themselves in advance for 350,000 credits apiece; right now, mercenaries and Core megacorporation soldiers fly them."
Vija looked at the ship: it was not designed for atmosphere, and its wings functioned more like radiators.
"It only has two cannons, whereas the Bug-Eye has four. Very good shields and sensors, and it is also modular. The bottom wing can be swapped for an extra cannon, a bomb rack, a torpedo rack, or fitted with missiles. The front part of the cockpit detaches, and equipment is installed to create a strike ship. All other parameters are better than the SF-1, but worse than the AI-15."
Vaja considered this concept; it seemed effective to her. One ship required unified parts and could adapt to the situation.
"Why doesn't Alsakan or the Empire create a unified multi-role ship concept like the Republic does?"
The question was outside the pilots' purview and related more to an engineering approach, but the instructor possessed technical expertise as well: he had previously served in the Republic military, joining the Core Worlds' conflicts for the money.
"Because it has worse stats and costs more. It is only profitable in the long term for massive armies where small aircraft modernization must be conducted. Modernization does not change hull parts, and this increases the need for repairs. The overall combat readiness of small ships drops."
This problem was not understood by the top managers who made the decisions. Yet this very metric determined the strength of a fleet.
"What is the combat readiness percentage of our ships?"
Vija remembered the Empire's old ships, which had sunk to a combat readiness level of 32%. They were kept in service only out of a need to fill hangars with aircraft.
"SF-1 is at a 95% level. AS-12 lags behind, only 87%. AI-15 holds at 73%. The TS-133 performs very well, nearly 92%. The enemy has far more small ships, but their combat readiness level is only 58%; this allows us to expect an equal number of small ships on the battlefield."
The current figures were phenomenal for the Sith Empire. Vasja thought the instructor was exaggerating, and a 95% metric was simply impossible.
Ships constantly return with microfractures, depleted shields, or scorched wing surfaces. Even if a fighter is highly specialized and reliable, Imperial supply lines would suffer due to bureaucracy or logistics.
High-tech machines require long hours of maintenance for every hour of flight.
A 95% combat readiness could only be a realistic number if those fighters almost never returned from combat for repairs. That is quite unpleasant for pilots who do not wish to die.
Another way to boost combat readiness was the cannibalization of parts. It was better, but offered no advantages.
The instructor said Coruscant had low combat readiness, but sooner or later they would lose their old small aircraft. The new machines would have acceptable combat readiness, which meant they would possess a numerical advantage.
Kreso said they wouldn't solely be flying a shuttle to intercept Republic assault operations. That was the only reassuring thing.
"Step closer, the TS-133 uses a standard Kuat cockpit."
They exchanged glances and approached the cabin; it was hard to force themselves to speak normally with an ugly alien.
The hangar's gloom gave way to the dim, amber-green glow of the ship's instrument panels. The large space was designed for three pilots, but the shuttle could fly perfectly well with just one.
The co-pilot was responsible for weapons, and the third pilot's seat was intended for modifications with a turret or torpedoes.
In addition, the ship fulfilled a command role on the battlefield, so an infantry battalion commander could sit in the second or third pilot's seat.
There was no elegance or smooth lines here, typical of interceptors. Instead, the pilot was surrounded by an angular frame of heavy durasteel alloy, coated with matte anti-glare paint.
The instructor pointed to two side joystick handles on the chair's armrests and two foot pedals. He explained the purpose of the joystick buttons and pointed to the main tactical monitor with a crosshair and four square screens for the reactor, engines, shields, and weapons.
The girls asked questions regarding physical toggle switches, missile countermeasure systems, and available laser cannon modes.
The pilot demonstrated the operation of slider controls for power distribution.
The girls went over every element of the ship, and at the end asked for an Alsakan pilot manual.
This model had no AR goggles; the ship was not intended for active dogfighting, though such a modification was possible.
As soon as the instructor finished his explanations, he sat in the co-pilot's chair and powered up the ship's reactors.
"Who will go first for practice?"
Vija and Vaja exchanged glances again: had he been human, they wouldn't have objected, but this ugly alien would be sitting next to them for quite a long time.
Realizing the necessity of finishing these courses, Vasja sighed heavily and sat in the main pilot's chair.
Vija, meanwhile, began exploring the passenger area of the shuttle. She touched the hull and understood the entire construction down to the small electronic components soldered into microchips.
While no one was paying attention to her, she used the Force and telekinetically removed the bolts from a decorative panel. The girl looked at the internal systems and found several issues in the redundant systems.
She quickly returned the decorative panel to its place, realizing that she and her sister would have to look after their own ship.
Personal safety was paramount. Meanwhile, her sister had already adjusted the seat to her liking and reconfigured the controls for certain buttons.
"Checking engines, normal. Distributing reactor power, all stable. Awaiting signal from the hangar."
The instructor listened to her actions in silence; he didn't interrupt because she was doing everything correctly. This was quite surprising: the man expected he would have to repeat the purpose of the control instruments several times.
This was his first student to instantly memorize everything after hearing it just once.
The hangar doors began to open. The Twi'lek deactivated automatic takeoff and took the joysticks in her hands.
The instructor quickly brought his hand near his buttons, ready to seize control. When the hangar opened, she performed a standard takeoff and took a perfect climbing angle.
He began to doubt his own experience for a moment: even piloting experience does not grant knowledge of the TS-133's atmospheric characteristics.
Every aircraft has its own independent angle depending on the atmosphere, engine power, and hull shape.
Had he not flown the shuttle himself, he wouldn't have even noticed it.
"Shuttle is normal, requesting permission to enter space."
The man gave permission, but continued observing her anomalously excellent piloting skills. He did not know that both girls were Force-sensitive.