Wire the cognitive processor thru that circuit to limit it's power draw.
Loop the third memory storage unit in parallel with the cognitive processor.
Bridge the two to provide a faster processing time.
Connect the pair to the radio preprocessor to reduce processing time on the receiving end.
Substitute the higher bandwid
A quiet alarm pierced his concentration. For just a moment Markus was enraged. Who dares distu The sound clicked within his memory. Bloody hyperspace alarm. Like I care if I flew right on by. Markus thought to himself bitterly as he rose from his workbench and jogged to the cockpit. One of these days I'm gong to have to find, or build, me a pilot droid. I'm tired of always having to run off when it's time to leave hyperspace. As he sat in the pilot's seat and began preparing for the exit from hyperspace, he wrote a quick reminder and stored it in one of his many implants for later recollection. He would need a fair amount of his concentration to land his baby in one piece, he couldn't be distracted by stray thoughts now.
Markus pulled back the double levers, taking the freighter out of hyperspace and depositing it neatly a little over a kilometer away from the nav buoy. Nice run. One of these days I'll have to retune that a bit tho. The bulky starship slowly powered up and the deck plates began vibrating as the giant engines pushed her towards the planet below. A few moments later a soft roar was heard against the hull. The ship began slowly decelerating, from the several hundred G cruising speed she'd achieved to a far more leisurely 200 kph. A PDA chirped of his left shoulder signifying it was beginning to transmit navigational data. Milliseconds later numbers started flowing across his vision as the data stream was processed.
A minute passed and the large ship passed underneath the cloud cover. There she was. The Jewel of Corellia. The massive spaceport was bustling with activity. Starcraft of every make and model flew in the area. Some were landing, some were taking off, but all were potential hazards to a ship of this size. The view in front of his eyes zoomed out, providing a full map of the airspace and vessels over the starport.
A traffic controller winked into existence to his right on the instrument panel. "We're terribly sorry, but the Coronet space port is running behind. A convoy just arrived from Duros and has disrupted some of our local traffic. We can either place you in a holding pattern for an hour or two until things settle down, or we can divert you to Bela Vistal, the closest space port equipped for a ship your size." Markus pondered for a moment, figuring out how best to proceed. Either way he was going to be late, he might as well land at the vacation spot so he could do some sightseeing until he could reschedule. The mountains weren't all that interesting to him, but nearly all mountain towns had developed innovative ways to handle mechanical problems. If nothing else, he stood a chance to improve the efficiency of at least one of his ship-board systems. "I'll divert to Bela Vistal." he told the traffic operator, "What are the coordinates?" The operator, obviously relieved, transmitted a set of polar coordinates and wished him a pleasant flight.
The freighter slowly shifted it's heading, aiming it's over-sized nose northeast, and began to accelerate. The 200 kph used for the landing maneuvers and holding patterns rose to about 600 kph as the engines strained against the vessel's bulk. A little while later the controller at the Bela Vistal spaceport cleared him to land. The giant repulsor pads fired up, easing the Memory in for a landing. With a resounding thud, all 13 thousand metric tons literally fell onto the landing gear. A small ramp lowered to the ground from the rear of the ship, on the far side of the vessel from the docking bay's entry.
Rising from his seat, Markus touched three controls and flipped a switch, securing the navicomputer and all helm controls with a nearly unbreakable quantum encryption. His PDA followed behind him as he exited the cockpit. He turned, pressing a control on the door, and continued moving thru out the ship. Five minutes after landing, he exited his prized vessel, nearly every door and bulkhead on-board having been magnetically sealed. The single PDA that followed him down the ramp responded to an unvoiced command. It jacked into the local networks and began gleaning all the data it could about city layout, famous dams, bridges, skyscrapers, or any other potential marvel of engineering located within the city. A few seconds later a full schematic appeared, showing him nearly everything he'd every want to know about the starport facilities. Markus slowly walked down the ramp to greet the two men standing there.
He slowly bowed his head, never loosing visual contact with either of the men. "I'd like fuel and supplies please." he said quietly. Whether it was his battle-hardened face, the soft and slightly menacing tone he could never quite rid himself of, or the sight of the hovering droid behind him, he could never quite tell, but the two men in front of him looked almost terrified. His lack of obvious weapons allayed their suspicions a little, but they were obviously uneasy. "W.. why certainly.... Mr... Uh..." one of the men stuttered slightly. "Ootmian." Markus stated quite easily. "Please store the food stuff just inside the door. I'll open the water and fuel vents now." Not to impress the still shaken men too much, Markus walked to each of the ports and opened them manually. On his way back he thanked the man who had addressed him, tossing him a 500 cred chit for his expenses. Probably as much as the poor man makes in a month Markus thought silently. At least I won't have to deal with that blubbering idiot of a Coronet Harbor Master today tho. He walked out of the docking bay and into the afternoon sun of the city. What shall I look at first...
Loop the third memory storage unit in parallel with the cognitive processor.
Bridge the two to provide a faster processing time.
Connect the pair to the radio preprocessor to reduce processing time on the receiving end.
Substitute the higher bandwid
A quiet alarm pierced his concentration. For just a moment Markus was enraged. Who dares distu The sound clicked within his memory. Bloody hyperspace alarm. Like I care if I flew right on by. Markus thought to himself bitterly as he rose from his workbench and jogged to the cockpit. One of these days I'm gong to have to find, or build, me a pilot droid. I'm tired of always having to run off when it's time to leave hyperspace. As he sat in the pilot's seat and began preparing for the exit from hyperspace, he wrote a quick reminder and stored it in one of his many implants for later recollection. He would need a fair amount of his concentration to land his baby in one piece, he couldn't be distracted by stray thoughts now.
Markus pulled back the double levers, taking the freighter out of hyperspace and depositing it neatly a little over a kilometer away from the nav buoy. Nice run. One of these days I'll have to retune that a bit tho. The bulky starship slowly powered up and the deck plates began vibrating as the giant engines pushed her towards the planet below. A few moments later a soft roar was heard against the hull. The ship began slowly decelerating, from the several hundred G cruising speed she'd achieved to a far more leisurely 200 kph. A PDA chirped of his left shoulder signifying it was beginning to transmit navigational data. Milliseconds later numbers started flowing across his vision as the data stream was processed.
A minute passed and the large ship passed underneath the cloud cover. There she was. The Jewel of Corellia. The massive spaceport was bustling with activity. Starcraft of every make and model flew in the area. Some were landing, some were taking off, but all were potential hazards to a ship of this size. The view in front of his eyes zoomed out, providing a full map of the airspace and vessels over the starport.
A traffic controller winked into existence to his right on the instrument panel. "We're terribly sorry, but the Coronet space port is running behind. A convoy just arrived from Duros and has disrupted some of our local traffic. We can either place you in a holding pattern for an hour or two until things settle down, or we can divert you to Bela Vistal, the closest space port equipped for a ship your size." Markus pondered for a moment, figuring out how best to proceed. Either way he was going to be late, he might as well land at the vacation spot so he could do some sightseeing until he could reschedule. The mountains weren't all that interesting to him, but nearly all mountain towns had developed innovative ways to handle mechanical problems. If nothing else, he stood a chance to improve the efficiency of at least one of his ship-board systems. "I'll divert to Bela Vistal." he told the traffic operator, "What are the coordinates?" The operator, obviously relieved, transmitted a set of polar coordinates and wished him a pleasant flight.
The freighter slowly shifted it's heading, aiming it's over-sized nose northeast, and began to accelerate. The 200 kph used for the landing maneuvers and holding patterns rose to about 600 kph as the engines strained against the vessel's bulk. A little while later the controller at the Bela Vistal spaceport cleared him to land. The giant repulsor pads fired up, easing the Memory in for a landing. With a resounding thud, all 13 thousand metric tons literally fell onto the landing gear. A small ramp lowered to the ground from the rear of the ship, on the far side of the vessel from the docking bay's entry.
Rising from his seat, Markus touched three controls and flipped a switch, securing the navicomputer and all helm controls with a nearly unbreakable quantum encryption. His PDA followed behind him as he exited the cockpit. He turned, pressing a control on the door, and continued moving thru out the ship. Five minutes after landing, he exited his prized vessel, nearly every door and bulkhead on-board having been magnetically sealed. The single PDA that followed him down the ramp responded to an unvoiced command. It jacked into the local networks and began gleaning all the data it could about city layout, famous dams, bridges, skyscrapers, or any other potential marvel of engineering located within the city. A few seconds later a full schematic appeared, showing him nearly everything he'd every want to know about the starport facilities. Markus slowly walked down the ramp to greet the two men standing there.
He slowly bowed his head, never loosing visual contact with either of the men. "I'd like fuel and supplies please." he said quietly. Whether it was his battle-hardened face, the soft and slightly menacing tone he could never quite rid himself of, or the sight of the hovering droid behind him, he could never quite tell, but the two men in front of him looked almost terrified. His lack of obvious weapons allayed their suspicions a little, but they were obviously uneasy. "W.. why certainly.... Mr... Uh..." one of the men stuttered slightly. "Ootmian." Markus stated quite easily. "Please store the food stuff just inside the door. I'll open the water and fuel vents now." Not to impress the still shaken men too much, Markus walked to each of the ports and opened them manually. On his way back he thanked the man who had addressed him, tossing him a 500 cred chit for his expenses. Probably as much as the poor man makes in a month Markus thought silently. At least I won't have to deal with that blubbering idiot of a Coronet Harbor Master today tho. He walked out of the docking bay and into the afternoon sun of the city. What shall I look at first...
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