Real Stories of the Sector Rangers

[Dredwulf60]

This was a short series of faux articles I wrote for Clonecommandos.net

The idea was to give the flavor of the day to day life of a Sector Ranger. I had fun writing it. It's from the perspective of a CNN reporter writing for a holozine article. (that's CNN: Coreworlds News Network. )


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Article by Sandra Stepton; Coreworlds News Network:

I am traveling the galaxy speaking with officers of the Imperial Sector Rangers in order to better present them to the citizens of the First Galactic Empire.  The Rangers have held a very specific image in the minds of most citizens; a stereotypical caricature nearly as old as the Jedi, before we learned who and what they really stood for.. But who are the modern Rangers?  Are they as brave, stalwart and fearless as we’ve always believed?  Do they ‘always get their being’ as the old saying goes? In this series I will do my best to find out.

I have arrived at the Corthenia Sector, Mid Rim Region.  I am at the local Sector Ranger detachment, orbiting the planet Melfarn, in the eponymously named system.  The planet Melfarn would not win any beauty contests, even seen from orbit.  It’s a greenish world, which is about all I can say, as the thick cloud cover conceals any details of the surface.

The detachment shares the space station with a freighter refueling dock and a strip of amenities for travelers; those who use the nearby 26th  Sector hyperspace lane that links up to the Inter-Regional Spaceway.  Things like hotels, grocery stores, diners and holovid theatres, and less reputable looking places.

I’ve made arrangements to speak with the officer on Duty in this zone.  His name is Halton, he’s a Duros in his early middle ages.  The first thing I notice about him is that he has an easy smile.  Not the dour humourless officer of the holovid serials. He has a husky voice, the sound emanating from deep in the throat, typical for his species.

How long have you been on the force officer?

Actually, it’s Ranger. He smiles apologetically, for having to correct me. Common mistake.  People see the uniform, the flashing lights…all they are thinking about is how they’ve been stopped by the Law.  Since most citizens live directly under the jurisdiction of a local or system police force, they tend to think we’re all officers of the law.

So you aren’t an officer of the law?

Yes and no, ma’am. We prefer to be called Rangers…it’s tradition.  We haven’t got jurisdictions…we have patrols.  We’re first and foremost Peace Officers, which means we keep the peace.  Since enforcing the Galactic Law statutes goes hand in hand with keeping the Peace…we are officers of the Law by default.  But the one doesn’t necessarily go with the other.

How so?

Well, look at some of the outer rim territories for instance.  Ever heard the expression ‘The law doesn’t reach out here?’

No.

He chuckles, probably at my naivety.

Well, in some cases it’s kind of true.  There are vast reaches of the galaxy that have no governing body.  Law…statute law, is meaningless.  But that doesn’t mean it’s a free-for-all.  Where the Rangers go, the Law goes…but it’s the most fundamental type of enforcement.  Don’t kill each other…don’t take what isn’t yours…and that about sums it up.

But that’s not here.  We aren’t that far out.  So even though the systems in this sector have their own law enforcement, we fill in the gaps between the systems. If it wasn’t for us, a skrote…ahem.  Excuse me...a criminal could do the nasty on one planet and then hop systems and get away with it.  So we are always looking out for wanted parties.

So what is a typical day for you?

Well, we have four-day rotations.  That’s four standard days of course.  We are teamed up in pairs.  In the further areas, the Rangers sometimes go out in bigger ships and longer patrols, mainly because the systems are so far out and off the beaten track.  But here you don’t get too far from a hyperspace avenue, even on auxiliary hyperdrive you are never more than a dozen hours away from a port.  Unfortunately, the same can be said for backup.

So it’s just you and one other officer…sorry…one other Ranger?

Pretty much, though there are several hundred such teams patrolling the Sector in a shift, organized into zones.  In any major event, I can be reasonably confident that two or three other Ranger teams can arrive within the hour.

An hour is a long time in a gun fight, isn’t it?  
He smiles, his blue-grey skin wrinkling at the corners of his mouth, his large reflective golden eyes seem to sparkle.

You better believe it.  

Have you been involved in a gun fight?

Once or twice.  It’s a dangerous Galaxy, but not nearly as dangerous as the holovids make it out to be.  Mostly its just common sentients trying to make their way.

So what do you do, mostly, if it’s not shooting at criminals?

Actually we do a bit of everything.  A lot of our time is taken up with patrolling the hyperpoints; the areas of real-space where ships emerge from hyperspace and then maneuver to get lined up for their next jump along the next leg of the hyperlane.

What sort of things happen there?

There are a lot of infractions that take place.  Emerging from hyperspace too late can zap a ship right into the main travelled portion of the hyperpoint and cause collisions with ships that might already be there maneuvering.  That’s a ticket: Fail to engage inertial fields; Hyperspace Traffic Act Section 143 subsection A.  That’ll cost a ships pilot 440 credits, and a couple demerits to his operators license.

If it actually resulted in a collision, then the charge and fine are heftier. By a lot.

Of course we also respond to collisions and distress calls.  Sometimes we have to shut down Hyperlanes and set up detours due to large scale collisions.

That really ticks off travelers, but, really, they don’t really think about what it’d be like to come out of hyperspace right in the middle of a debris field, to say nothing of how it would hamper the rescue operations.

A lot of beings are pretty self-centered, would you say?

Lady, you don’t know the half of it.  I didn’t realize just how selfish most sentients are…or how uncommon sense was until I started working this job.


...to be continued in part 2

[Dredwulf60]

Part 2 of the CNN special expose.


So Sector Rangers are pretty spread out?

Yes.  There is a lot of space in, well,…space.  

How do you get around?

We are still using the tried and true Gunstar.  Put out by Starleague Industries for the last several centuries, it’s pretty much synonymous with the Rangers. It’s a classic, durable, workbeast, and I feel pretty safe going out in one.  I’ve been told that Starleague was just breaking even selling them to the Republic.  They kept the profit margin down to keep them affordable.  They did it out of a sense of civic duty, not to make a profit; even still they are pretty expensive machines.  

I guess that’s why most system police forces don’t buy them.

Now that the Republic has been re-organized as the First Galactic Empire, will the Sector Rangers still be using Gunstars?

I hope so. Well, I know we’ll be using them as long as we can. That’s one workbeast we don’t want to put out to pasture. He chuckles, showing genuine love for the bulky two-seater craft.  I can’t imagine they’d be able to replace it with something better.

Note: since the interview, I have contacted the assistant general manager for Starleague Industries, Preston Centauri.  He indicated that the Galactic Empire has picked up an order for another run of Gunstars, but the Imperial acquisitions department has refused to elaborate with him concerning any continuation past next fiscal year.  He remains hopeful that the design will still be utilized, but the imperial trend has been to reduce the cost-per-unit ratio of military and enforcement craft, even if this arguably results in reduced user safety or functionality.

So what is it about the Gunstar that makes it ideal for the work you do out there?

Well, first off, as I’ve said, it’s durable.  In a regular craft of the same type, a lot of joints get spot welded.  Every joint in the Gunstar is full-on molecular mesh welded.  Every system has got double redundancy.  It’s got a military grade level 1 Hyperdrive, with a decent auxiliary.  It’s got a robust fully angle-capable shield generator, with a good sensors suite.  We can’t always see the bad guys before they see us, but sometimes we tie.

The navigator sits in the rear seat, with the gunner up front.  The ship can be flown from either position.  My partner and I generally share the duty on those long patrols, but if the bantha fodder hits the vaporator whoever is in the rear seat takes over flying, and the front seater gets eyes on target.

It’s a turreted seat up front.  You can go left, right, up or down on any angle  to slew and track targets, in spite of any maneuvers the pilot makes.  That makes it really handy in a pursuit situation.  If we have to bring fire to bear on a fleeing vessel, we can offset…so we aren’t following directly behind him.

Why’s that a bad position?

Sometimes in a pursuit, the wanted party will dump some debris.  Might be spare parts, fuel, or even contraband.  Might even be explosives.  In any case it’s not something you want to fly through at high speed.  Also, if we have to disable the craft, there’s less of a chance it might hit the decelerators and cause an unintended collision.

We’ll be flying off to the side, with the gunner aiming at the target on an angle.

You said disable the craft.  Does that mean you shoot to disable?

Actually, we don’t shoot at all if there is any other option.  I’ve been involved in pursuits clear across a system.  If we have more than one Gunstar in the area, we try to block in the fleeing vessel.  They are built to take a hit, with specific portions of the ship reinforced specifically for intentional contact.  We are trained to be able to nudge a craft off course.  As long as you can nudge the craft properly, it fouls up any calculations they are making for a jump into hyperspace.

After all, the calculations are based on the ship’s current trajectory, right?  Change the trajectory and it’s unsafe to proceed to hyperspace.   If you can get them spun around and pointed at a star or a planet, sometimes you can get the computer to shut down and reboot.  

This causes a lot of would-be runners to just shut down the engines and wait to be boarded.  We call it the PIT maneuver. Prevention of Intelligible Trajectory.

It doesn’t really work at the really high speeds though.  The Gunstar has got a hugely overpowered engine, but there are a lot of ships out there, especially the snub fighters and hot-shots that are both faster and more agile.  When we get one of those trying to jet, we have got authority to hit them with the ion cannon.

Ion cannons.  They disable ships, right?

They are kind of a ship-to-ship less-lethal-weapon.  It’s not a sure thing, but often you can force a system shut down if you bombard it enough.  Sometimes ships have reinforced hulls meant to resist the ion energy, others are more fragile and the ion blast can cause some catastrophic damage.  There was a lot of debate a few years ago about whether to use them as freely as we do.  Some wanted them in the same class as other ship to ship weapons.  

As it sits, they're still considered an intermediate tool before going to the blasters or missiles.

So you do carry some hefty firepower.

When it comes to the application of force ma’am, it’s never a 50-50 deal.  If it comes to any kind of confrontation we are trained to win.  That means we maintain the upper hand.  It’s a maxim that’s true for the individual Ranger and is carried on at the ship scale;

If a citizen is being combative, I will physically wrestle it down.  If it’s bigger than me, I’ll pull my stun baton.  If it pulls a club, blade or claws, I pull my blaster and go for a stun.  If he pulls a blaster, I get cover, get my rifle and shoot to kill.  So, logically, if I’m in my Gunstar and he’s running, I try to disable him.  If he starts shooting at me, I engage with everything I’ve got to reduce that threat to nil, as quickly as possible.

There’s one rule all Rangers share; indeed I believe all beings in Law Enforcement share; no matter what I face on the job, I’m going home at the end of my shift.

Even if that means shooting a petty criminal?

I’d do what I can to avoid it, but if he’s going to bring it, I’m going to finish it.  I’d rather be judged by 12 than honoured by 6 if you know what I mean.

Note: He is referring to the traditional Duros funeral service where the deceased is eulogized and carried by his six closest comrades, as opposed to the twelve- member jury of high court for murder.

How often does that happen?

Killing a being on duty, or getting judged for it?

Either.  Both.
Halton leans back and looks briefly at the ceiling.  There are other Rangers coming and going in the ready-room.  Most glance at us sitting in the corner, but none of them come over.  I notice a few of them exchange glances.  Halton informs me later that they probably think that I’m with the SIU.  Special Investigations Unit. An internal-affairs government organization that oversees Policing at all levels.

You realize I can’t speak for all Rangers.  Some sectors are more dangerous than others.  Speaking for myself, I’ve rarely had to draw my personal blaster in the line of duty.  But the few times that I have, it’s usually because I’ve needed to use it.  

Sometimes just unclipping the holster is enough to stop a bad situation from getting worse.  Others have a change of heart when they are staring down the emission aperture of a blaster.

Whenever a citizen is injured or killed in an encounter with the Rangers, there is an investigation.  We Rangers are very professional, so these investigations by the SIU almost always find the Ranger to be acting within their legitimate powers.  Kind of a technicality, really.

I’ve heard that the new Imperial administration is going to review these investigations in the interests of efficiency.  That means that there’d only be an investigation if there is a third party complaint lodged.   That’s sure to streamline things out here on the front lines.  Nothing quite like having your split-second life or death decisions getting second-guessed by some suit at a desk.

continued in part 3.

Sector Rangers Gunstar:
Built by Starleague Industries on Rylos, specifically for Law Enforcement use.

[Dredwulf60]

Part 3


As we speak, Halton’s partner arrives for her shift.  Kelda Rae is short for a Trandoshan.  Her dusky-coloured scales encase her whip-thin body.  First impressions and body language scream that this is someone who is used to taking charge and ready to challenge any assumptions about her diminutive stature.

She quickly introduces herself, and makes a comment about my ship being parked in a no-parking zone.  Her sharp-toothed smile grows as she sees my instinctive alarm; it then occurs to me that I hadn’t come in my own craft.  The aversion to getting a ticket is deep seated in most of us citizenry, which leads us to treat law enforcement officers with a healthy level of trepidation.  She claps me on the shoulder to prove she’s just fooling with me.  I, in turn, reflexivly gush at the sudden release of tension.  She then goes on to set me at ease.

 The Imperial Sector Rangers select applicants who score high in a variety of attributes, and I’m told that one of the more important factors is the ability to relate to other people.  I am reminded of Halton’s comments about being keepers of the Peace.  Even this small, tough-looking lady, is a charismatic people-person in the right circumstances, yet I know I wouldn’t want to face her on the wrong side of the law.

Halton informs me that the shift sergeant has granted permission for me to go out on patrol with them.  This is what I’ve come here for, but I can’t deny a bit of anxiety. They equip me with a protective coat of soft armor, and have me sign several waivers, which doesn’t help the nerves much.

We head down to the hangar.  It’s not as large as I pictured it would be.  Halton explains that only two Gunstars are kept in the launch position at a time. The rest are stored in a sub-hangar and are brought up on gantry lifts as required.  I watch as the pair conduct a mandatory inspection of the craft, and make many dozens of marks on the data tablet as each item on the list is confirmed.  Halton is calling out each point for my benefit; though I can’t help but exceed my attention span after the first two dozen.

Kelda Rae calls me over and shows me the ‘passenger compartment’.  Her chuckle lets me know it is a euphemism.  It is where they put beings who have been arrested for ransport to a holding facility.  I realise, by the gleam in her red-slashed eyes, that this time, it’ll be transporting me.

It is an after-market pod that retracts into the main body of the craft.  It is somewhat cramped, without much leg room. Beings much larger than the average baseline humanoid would be forced to huddle.  I’m told it’s necessary however, because space is at a premium in the Gunstar, as large as it is.

What if I was a Herglic, or a Hutt?

"For the big ones, or multiple Ninety-Twos,  we'd call for a special prisoner transport ship."  

She refers to prisoners as ‘Ninety-twos’, using the applicable TEN-code.

Note: TEN standing for Transmission Enforcement Notation; used by most law enforcement when speaking with each other and their dispatchers over the comm.-channels.  Contrary to popular belief it was not intended to conceal activity from those who might be listening in, but rather it was meant to streamline and truncate transmissions for effective use by multiple parties.

Once I’m secured in the cramped compartment, smelling the odour of industrial strength disinfectant,  I note that it has been equipped with an external view screen

“We can turn it on and off,” Halton tells me.   “Most of the times it helps reduce the subject’s anxiety if they can see where they are going and what’s happening outside the craft.  But in some cases, that’s not appropriate, from a safety point of view, or from an evidence preservation point of view.”

Kelda Rae cuts in, “If we shut it off on you suddenly, it’s just because we are doing something we don’t want the public to know about,” she laughs, “Or because Hoolidan here is about to fly us into an asteroid.”

Halton explains that Kelda Rae often calls him Hoolidan, citing his resemblance to that eccentrically outspoken Duros scholar Hoolidan Keggle, which Halton wryly denies.   “The guy’s a kook.”

But he does look like him.  A little.

I observe that Halton is going to be the primary pilot in the rear seat, with Kelda Rae climbing up into the front seat at the gun controls.

In addition to the visual, they keep the internal comm.-channel open, allowing me to hear them speak with each other and their dispatcher.  Halton confirms with the dispatch that they are logged on as Six-Leth-Three-Zero-Two, and changes their status to ‘Available’, which means they are ready to accept any calls for service in their assigned patrol zone.

A moment later, Halton brings us clear of the hangar, and I feel the authority of the Gunstar’s engines press me back into the padded seat as we leave the detachment area of the space station.  I note that the planet Melfarn doesn’t look any prettier.

The Rangers bring us on an elliptical orbit around the system, and then merge us with the traffic lanes that are queued up to leave the planets gravity well on the trajectory that puts them into the primary spacelane leaving the system.

“Notice how everyone flies like an angel when a Gunstar comes into sensor range,” Halton says, his voice slightly buzzing with the interference from the stellar radiation.

“It can be damned annoying when you are trying to get somewhere,” Kelda Rae adds.

“That’s why I usually do the flying,” Halton quips, as smoothly as he completes the merger.   “I usually keep us near the speed limit of the system.  It sets a positive example for the citizens.”

“Here comes one who isn’t watching his sensors very well.”

I notice a small freighter moving up from behind us on the starboard side. Halton’s cruising just a bit above the beacon-broadcast limit, and this ship is set to overtake us. It’s an independent trader, Correllian make and model. As it moves to pass our Gunstar, Kelda Rae rotates her chair to face directly at the offending ship.  That’s the moment that the pilot notices.  Whether it’s the dirty look Kelda Rae’s shoots him, or just the iconic silhouette of the Gunstar, the pilot quickly decelerates and moves back into a less aggressive position in the traffic.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, hot shot,” Kelda Rae mutters.

A few minutes later, I see the ships in line ahead of us vanishing one after another into Hyperspace.

“Stand by for jump to lightspeed,” Halton rasps, as coolly as any luxury ship captain.

“He’s Duros,” Kelda Rae tells me, by way of explanation.  “He lives for this interstellar pilot stuff.”

Halton chuckles as the stars begin to streak around us, and we burst into the rippling tunnel of light.

[Dredwulf60]

Part 4



We transit the spacelanes, for the better part of a standard hour, making three separate jumps.  Each time we arrive at a Hyperpoint, Halton brings the Gunstar out of the primary lanes to better observe traffic flow.

Kelda Rae points out a couple minor infractions.  Speeders mostly.  The beacon at the hyperpoint broadcasts the important information to spacers, one of which is the speed limit for crossing the hyperpoint to one of the several exit positions.

She aims the crafts sensors at ships that appear to be traveling too quickly.

“That one’s at 10,” Kelda Rae says, drawing my attention to a ship that is moving along at a fairly steady rate.  She means 10% faster than allowed.  It’s above the legal limit, but not particularly dangerous.  Halton explains that the public is generally willing to accept a slight margin of tolerance, so long as there is no obvious danger.  To me it doesn't really stand out all that much.

"Estimating speed of vessels is part of the training," Kelda Rae says.  "We can't just beam every ship that goes by; we have to have a reason to do so."

We alternately move with the traffic and then exit the flow to drift in space outside the main traveled areas, where Halton finds an advantageous position of observation.

He moves the Gunstar to a new location after every few minutes because spacers who notice, will transmit our location to other captains down the line, who will be jumping into this hyperpoint, warning them to slow down, Halton tells me.

That’s bad for you?

“It means we won’t be logging as many offenses, but really the idea here is to keep the traffic moving at a safe rate, so if it gets people to slow down, then I can’t really complain.  We’re really out to get the aggressive pilots; the ones who can cause collisions.”

“But,” Kelda Rae adds, “more tickets look better on our statistics. It’s one of the only practical ways to show the bureaucrats at the BoSS that we are out here doing the job.  It can be kind of a pain; BoSS doesn't care how many criminals we catch, it's all about the traffic for them.  That's what it's like with a big bureaucracy.”

Note: BoSS is the Bureau of Ships and Services.

We shift position twice within the wide boundary of the Hhperpoint, then make a jump to another hyperpoint.  Just as we are snapping back to realspace, Kelda Rae’s quick eyesight spots a small craft weaving to overtake a slower moving bulk freighter.

“We’ve got one.  Oh yeah. 43…44…45…locked at 45,” she hisses almost triumphantly, the thrill of the hunt stirring her cold blood.

Halton dives the nose of the Gunstar down to bring us under a cylindrical shaped tug-ship, and increases the thrust.  The Gunstar lurches almost like a riding beast as it jolts into a sprint.  He comes up in front of a long, thin, cruiser that has seen better days, and I notice that we are now behind and just to the port side of the offender, and matching its speed.  I can see now that it’s a side-by-side cockpit pleasure craft, cherry red with a pair of racing stripes.

One of the two Rangers has activated the visual signalling lights; a pair of bright strobes that pulse out flashes of red and blue light.  Kelda Rae is tracking the subject with the weapons systems.

The small red ship begins to decelerate, and Halton follows suit, still matching its speed.

“If he tries to make a run for it, we’ll be all over him,” Halton declares, keeping us quite close, but maintaining that offset position, as we follow the decelerating ship out of the traffic stream.  Once clear of other ships, the subject powers-down and drifts.

Halton brings the Gunstar in very close and Kelda Rae tells me she’s doing a full sensor sweep of the subject, analyzing its transponder codes and sending the data off to the BoSS network for verification.


“Is there something wrong officers?” the captain of the small craft transmits. It’s a male Rodian’s voice.

“Sir, you’ve been stopped for exceeding the limit,” Halton replies.  It’s very professional, but it comes across as dry, and maybe a little condescending.  One gets the feeling it’s a phrase he’s uttered thousands of times verbatim.

“No, I don’t think so.  I was just moving with the flow of traffic,” the Rodian says, sounding insulted by the suggestion.

“Sir, we spotted you overtaking the T-374, and sensors have you locked at 145% of the locally broadcast speed.  Please transfer your pilot information, registration validation code and flight plan,” he replies with infinite patience.

“I think your sensors are wrong, officer.  I’m sorry to say.”

“Sir, my sensors are calibrated and tested several times a minute.  There is no margin of error.  If you'd like to contest these facts, you may have your opportunity in Sector Court, not here.”

“Well, did you see that thing?  I had to get past it. It’s a flying wreck. You should be pulling it over, not me. I just wanted to get ahead of it so that my engines weren’t aspirating its ion trail,” he shoots back, his voice moving into that excited whine of indignation.


“Sir, I’ve asked you to transmit your data.  Are you refusing to comply?”

“No.  There.  I’ve sent them,” he sulks.

We float in space for several minutes as the computers verify and cross reference the information with the BoSS database.  Kelda Rae informs her partner on the closed channel that this pilot has no criminal history and there are no outstanding warrants for his arrest.  All the while, shipping traffic continues to blast by, about two or three ships per minute, and in almost every cockpit and flight deck that is close enough for me to see, I can make out pilots, passengers and crew watching as they pass, trying to get a good look at what’s happening.

A few moments later, Halton transmits a completed datafile to the Rodian pilot.  “Sir, this is your copy of the Sector Offense Notification for speeding 40 over.  You will note that I reduced it for you by 5 percent.  That’s going to save you a hundred credits. The Imperial Ministry of Finance demands full payment within 15 standard days, or a notice that you intend to contest the charge.  Do you understand?


“Yeah,” is the desultory reply.

“Safe navigation, sir.” Halton says, half polite farewell, half authoritative instruction. We continue to drift, as the strobes are doused and the small red craft gets underway.  The Rangers take a moment to update their duty log with any comments about the incident, and then the Gunstar’s engines flare up and we move back into the stream of traffic.

“Did you see that guy get back into the lane?” Kelda Rae grunts “he nearly cut off that slum-runner. Slicky-boy nearly earned himself another for that stunt.”

“Some people’s younglings, I tell ya,” Halton says, slowly shaking his large blue-grey head.

The Rangers make three more traffic stops before the first call of their patrol comes in.

* Six-Leth-Three-Zero-Two, are you clear for a Navigational Hazard call; Sector Subhyper-route 7, rimward from Point 10?*

“TEN-4, we are enroute.  What is the nature of the complaint?”

*Space captain reports Exo-tanker underway at reduced speed, occupying the primary lane trajectory; possibly under auxiliary power. Caller says the vessel is backing up traffic and is going to cause a collision.  Provided an ID transponder code; transmitting to you now.*

“Is the caller still following?”

*Negative.*

“TEN-4, we’ll be about ten minutes or so getting there.”

*TEN-4.*

“Might be having mechanical difficulties,” Halton says, for my benefit.

“The pilot’s probably intoxicated,” Kelda Rae counters.

I feel the inertial shift as the Gunstar adjusts heading and races toward the appropriate jump point.

to be continued...???

[Naaman]

That's a good read!

I appreciate some of the more nuanced details.

[Dredwulf60]

[Naaman]

Yup. I can tell. What state?

[Dredwulf60]