I’m probably the one missing something here, but why did it matter that they emerged so close to the planet? Wouldn’t they show up creeping towards the planet from the outer limits of the system on whatever the Rebels used to scan for incoming ships.
To me, leaping into orbit would give them a cordon for whatever Rebel ships tried to flee straight away and they’d have to land regardless.
What?! And spoil the dramatic effect of the crew falling out of their seats? :rolleyes:
I hope you realize that you would have been drummed out of Starfleet Drydock Engineering Corps for even suggesting that.
I’ve been thinking about this too, because you’re right, it doesn’t make sense. Best I can figure is that there’s post-hyperspace routines they have to go through after returning to normal space, and their reaction time would be sluggish, whereas the Rebels need only see BIG HONKIN’ SHIPS coming out of hyperspace to activate their shield. Had the Imperials come in further out, they could prep themselves and be ready to jump the Rebels on their terms.
This is all fanwanking, though, and none of it is suggested by the movie.
The best fanwank I’ve heard of on this subject explains it like this: there are two completely separate systems: the inertial dampeners that protect the ship from the effects of accelleration (whether intended or not), and the ship’s artificial gravity system, which pulls everything to the deck with a force of 1G. The inertial dampeners do a splendid job of completely eliminating the effects of 1,000,000 G shocks, such as accelerating to nearly lightspeed in a few seconds or having a megaton nuclear explosion impact the shields. The only problem is that under such stress, the inertial dampening system induces unavoidable fluctuations in the strength and orientation of the artificial gravity system. The engineers have managed to limit it to half a G plus or minus.
(patting Lightray’s hand) You can still blow stuff up.
My fanwank theory for this is inspired by the Honor Harrington books, where a ship transitioning from hyperspace back into real space (or, for that matter, from one “band” of hyperspace into another, with each higher band being exponentially faster and more dangerous or some such) creates a gravitic “splash” that can be easily detected by anyone looking for it with even the minimum amount of attention allowed for by also reading the latest issue of Big Tits In Space Quarterly at the same time as not paying attention to the sensors. The countermeasure to this is coming out of hyperspace a very long ways out, extending their time to target by as much as days or weeks and just creeping in.
I figure something similar happens in the Star Wars universe whenever a ship goes into or out of hyperspace, as evidence by the audible (and visible) “pop” we notice when ships do this in the movie (I figure if there’s sound in space, sensor operators can pick it up on space sonar or some such). Jumping in farther out would minimize the chances of someone noticing before they creep in with all the stealth and subterfuge possible with kilometer long space battleships.
Again, fanwanking, not indicated by really anything in the movies except that one solitary line, in a conversation that only served two purposes: To show that Vader is NOT one to disappoint, and to promote Captain Piett, one of the greatest survivors in the original trilogy (an Imperial officer who survives for nearly two movies, no small feat)
There is no way for sonar to work in space, control surfaces on wings don’t work…I need a drink.
For nearly the entire first season of Battlestar Galactica, I thought that this was what “Dradis contact” referred to, before I realized that “dradis” was just their word for “radar”. After all, whenever anyone notices “dradis contact”, it’s always when a ship jumps in nearby.
Mission to Mars, anyone? I never really got a handle on orbital mechanics, but my favorite part (the point where things really start to go sideways) is when the fuel tank is punctured, some fuel flows out, freezes (good so far), and while floating some distance from the ship gets hit by the exhaust and, uncontained, goes off with enough force to rip the ship pretty much apart…
-val
GATTACCA: In the Future, astronauts will fly in business suits!
What do airline pilots fly in today, if not business suits with fancy epaulets ?
Is this the same movie where as soon as the jet packs run out of fuel, all movement completely stops, even though the people where already moving forward when the gas ran out?
Actaully, they kind of did in the first few movies. The armrests on the bridge chairs could be moved down so that they functioned as a kinda-sorta seatbelt.
IIRC, there is a shot of them being used this way in ST:TMP.
They looked like a sudden halt might snip something vital IIRC…
Back to Star Wars, Grand Moff Tarkin, why not blow up the planet and then the moon?
Thank you. Okay, it was a submarine base, rather than a submarine, that was the target of those wascally, perverse ice chunks. But it’s reassuring that I didn’t completely mis-hear or mis-remember what I heard. 
The Death Star was designed to destroy habitable planets, i.e. relatively small rocky ones. Yavin was a gas giant. How do we know the Death Star was capable of destroying it?
Fanwank, yes, but it seems reasonable to me.
They prefer to be thrown free.
Well, it would have been fun to see.
Self-riffed in one scene in Star Trek Begins Year One Origins (:p) where the Captain says “buckle up” and two beats later some of us went “waaiit a minute…”
Simple. The Death Star I superlaser took 24 hours to charge for a full power, planet killing shot. So it was much faster to go around. The much larger Death Star II could fire much more often.