Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

2 years prior to The Force Awakens...
A persistent and interactive galaxy set shortly before the events of Episode VII

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VagueDurin
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by VagueDurin »

Lt. Dutari finished shutting down the shuttles main systems before glancing over at his impromptu co-pilot. The young human hadn't said a word since she'd closed the cockpit shutters. She was a fairly new addition to the squadron and due to her placement on punishment detail he hadn't had a lot of time to get to know her. Her scores spoke for themselves certainly, but as a 17 year veteran of the squadron Otsoa knew all to well that scores were not always indicative of a pilots worth. His seinale flared slightly but as he opened his mouth to speak, she cut him off.

"It's fine. I'm fine." Jess spoke, punching the button to activate the shutters.

The Urmaellian stood and made his way for the ramp, pausing just outside the cockpit to turn back towards Jess. "Not to be Captain Patent, but if you linger much longer, there might not be a spaceworthy fighter left to claim."

He didn't stick around to see her eyes roll, rather the pilot made his way down the ramp, lighting a new Shento along the way. He had just planted his boots on the deck when To'ran called him over.

"Oi, Fishhead... The Ol' Bothan managed to track down an old Dragoi ISV, said you owe him a case of them Shento's for it, though." The Captain spoke with a smirk. "I told him you fishfolk weren't the sentimental type but... well, I'm sure you'll see for yourself."

Otsoa about-faced and started scanning the hangar... His Seinale quivered with excitement when his keen eyes fell on a familiar silhouette peaking out from behind a pair of T-65 series X-Wings. "Captain." He spoke in both greeting and farewell before snapping a finger towards Lonny as the orange and white R6 started rolling his way.

The Lieutenant did his best to keep his pace at a brisk but professional walk as he weaved in and out of fellow pilots before coming to a stop underneath the cross-tailed rear of a Dragoi-118 Interstellar Submersible Vessel. The ISV was a 15 meter long, 17 meter wide starfighter with two massive thrust engines on the outside edge of its wings, and boasted another pair of drives mounted on either side of its tail section. Each wing sported an IX9 laser canon and an Arakyd Industries Flex Tube Launcher, while a third canon road atop the craft just aft of the canopy.

Otsoa pulled the flight glove from his green-blue colored hand and placed it gingerly against the dark blue hull of the fighter. He started to walk around the craft, dragging fingertips along its tapered, trapezoidal wing as Lonny finally arrived with an inquisitive bleep and warbel.

"It's an old D-118, Mark II by the looks of the armament... Manufactured by Bastioi Marine & Interstellar Spacewerks back home in the Rimbaux System. The Dragoi was one of the main multipurpose craft of the URSSF when I enlisted. We did a lot of our academy flying in retrofitted Mark I's." Otsoa answered the droid. "3 cannons, 2 launchers... Speed and Maneuverability to meet or best the T-65AC4 model..."

Otsoa was tugging on the main port side thruster, testing the resistance when Lonny blatted another questions. "Yes, it's Astromech compatible, you even get to ride in a sealed compartment behind the cockpit." he replied, pointing to the hatch on the underside of the hull where the droid would enter through.

Otsoa paused, glancing back over the hangar as pilots selected their craft, or bickered about contested vessels. "Well, what are you waiting for, climb in."

Once inside, it only took Lonny a moment to locate and activate the retractable stepladder. The Urmaellian pilots boots were already climbing the rungs before the ladder connected with the deck...
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Green Squadron

Post by Xalsin »

Vaylen lingered in the background for a minute as the pilots began weaving through the collection of ships, looking for their next fighter to claim. He couldn't help but smile at the enthusiasm and even the twinge of irony involved. Most of the pilots here would have, more than likely, staunchly denied being superstitious in any way. Yet here was a group of highly trained individuals who were not making their choices based off of service logs, cold logic of what was superior, or based off of what was the advanced technology. No, there were a group of people who were looking among the craft for that spiritual connection between man and machine.

And Vaylen couldn't have approved more. Their fighters were not just pieces of metal. They were steeds, partners, and the difference between life and death, and if one didn't feel a spiritual connection to that partner, both would suffer.

Vaylen stepped through the rows of craft, looking at the different options arrayed out in front of him. He stopped for a moment in front of the arrowhead design of an A-Wing, letting his hand rest on hull of the craft. It felt young, restless, eager to get into battle with a great impatience. Vaylen had never flown an A-Wing before, other than simulators, and it was tempting to try out their great speed and maneuverability, but that would have left Ratter without a job, which would have been unfair.

He walked on leisurely, eyeing the various iterations of X-Wings accumulated, a few of the T-85s, a good number of T-70s, and even a few of the old T-65s. The T-65s were probably intended to be more of backup craft, used in case of failure of the more advanced craft, but Vaylen found himself gravitating over towards the old X-Wings anyways.

The T-65's were venerable and sturdy craft. Forged in combat, tested and true in that same flame, Incom had received enough feedback to turn the T-65B in to probably one of the best, well rounded fighters in the galaxy. While all of those gains had been pushed forward to the T-70's and T-85's, both of the later iterations were products of "peaceful" times, which meant innovation had been pushed in favor of reliability and durability. The T-70's and T-85's were both solid craft, but neither had the benefit of an entire wartime of refinement, so if there were kinks to be worked out, they had yet to be discovered.

Vaylen brushed his hand down the length of one of the older X-Wings, noting the trail in the grime it left. Even just from his brief visual inspection, he could see several minor mechanical issues in need of correcting. This fighter was probably closer to the scrap heap than active combat, but it wouldn't take long to get it dialed in, as most of the work appeared to be cosmetic or minor in nature. And, of course, it would need a retrofit to accommodate Ratter's body shape, but those were not too complicated. He could feel the heart of the ship, and it was old but powerful, pulsing with experience, the desire to continue on.

Like all choices of the heart, it was a choice that made itself.

"Ratter, would you be so kind as to let the commander know we've made our choice." He pulled his tool kit from his backpack. "I'm going to get started, if our first mission is tomorrow."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

Damien hesitated a moment before leaving the shuttle, hoping to catch Jess as she exited the cockpit. After several moments had passed and only Otsoa had come out he decided he would try and talk to her later and headed down the boarding ramp. He stepped passed To'ran with a nod then came to a stop with a tech holding a datapad walked over to him.

"Are you Damien," he asked and Damien nodded, "The Chief could use an extra wrench hand getting these ships spaceworthy. Why don't you go store your gear then report back down here for duty."

"Yes, Sir," he replied then he snapped a crisp salute and headed for the exit. No rest for the weary, I suppose, he thought to himself. Not that the shuttle trip was especially long at all.

Jess meanwhile exited the cockpit and found her faithful companion, Nimbus, waiting for her. He whistled something at her and she smiled.

"It's nothing," she assured him, "Just a bad memory."

She glanced down the boarding ramp at the remaining pilots standing around. There weren't many left, the others had obviously gone to select their craft. "Well, we better get going before we're stuck with a Z-95."

Nimbus tweeted in response and followed Jess down the boarding ramp and into the hangar. They had wandered for several minutes amongst the craft and Jess quietly noted each craft selected by her squadmates. B-Wing for Alek, an A-Wing for Valexia, some kind of craft she'd never seen before for Otsoa and a pair of T-70s for the twins. Jess considered wandering over to the two T-85s that were sitting together. Her last craft was a T-85 though she flew it for only a handful of patrols before To'ran grounded her. The smartest choice was probably to pick one of those but as she approached them she felt a familiar tug.

Sitting next to the two T-85s was an older T-70 that looked vaguely familiar. She approached it and circled around it all the while recognizing all the little dings and dents that covered the hull. No way, she thought and finally she dropped her duffle onto the deck before climbing up the step ladder into the cockpit. She sat in the pilot's seat and ran her hands along the controls until finally her fingertips ran across a familiar scratch mark she made as a way of branding her ship. This was the same T-70 she flew at the academy, her first X-Wing. Naturally, they weren't going to let cadets fly the newer T-85s but the T-70 was still a fairly solid craft. The fact this ship was parked right here in this very hangar felt almost like fate though Jess didn't really believe in such things. Either way she needed no more convincing to make her choice.

She was about to climb out of the X-Wing when she caught sight of Damien heading back into the hangar. He was wearing a tech outfit and carried his tools on his shoulder. Seeing him reminded her of something but she couldn't immediately put her finger on it. Oh, that's right, she thought, I still need to give that sleemo a piece of my mind...
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

After Valexia had said her piece, she still had to sit through people giving her the "team pep talk" she played along with it. These people would need to earn her trust. She had been burned to many times, figuratively and not so figuratively. She ran her hand up around the back of her should and felt the scar. The constant reminder of what happens when you put too much faith in others. She kept her mind focused on the floor for the rest of the trip.

Once they landed, she received her orders and went right out to see if her custom ship had arrived. She was told it was going to be transferred when she got word of her new assignment. AS she came around a B-wing that had apparently found it's long lost Partner, she saw it. Her A-Wing, even with a slight color adjustment, probably to fit with the rest of her squadron, but she would know it anywhere.

"Nightmare, head over and get plugged in. I want to make sure everything is just how we left it." She said in her melodic voice as she patted he droid on it's head. R8-9T zoomed away and started his checks all the while Valexia walked around the ship. This little guy had gotten her out of many sticky situations. It didn't have the shields of the Y-Wings, or the fire power of the B's, but what it had was raw speed. Her modifications had added a area of Nightmare to sit behind her. Didn't cost her much in the way of speed, so she was happy with it. It mostly allowed for her mind to be completely engaged in the fight and not so much worried about the little things happening around her. Plus, a extra set of eyes on the sensor never hurt anyone.

She drew her finger over the hull and just imagined being behind the controls once again. Nightmare, dropped down from his spot and whistled an "OK". She smiled and picked up her bag. "Alright little one, lets get our stuff to our bunk. She had a standing request for a private room which she had already been granted. Zeltrons with their pheromones could be a dangerous things around others who could not resist them.

They were no where near as powerful as the Falleen, but could still be very potent in enclosed areas. Even with all of her training, they could get out of hand. She had a very bad experience once during a training exercise where she had such a horrible nightmare, she awoke to the sounds of her team fighting each other. Since then she had gone through extensive training on how to better control her emotions. She also wore her clock which helped to keep them under control as well. She needed a rest and her quarters would be a great place to do so until the briefing happened.
“This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted.”
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

Jessica was on her way to give Damien a piece of her mind when a hooded figure appeared from around an A-Wing and surprised her. Jess crashed into Valexia's left shoulder causing her bag to fall free and land on the deck. The two looked at each other for a moment and Jess recognized her as the Zeltron from the shuttle. "Excuse me," she said quickly, bending over to pick up the woman's bag and hand it to her, "I didn't see you, um..."

Her mind raced for a name but came up with nothing. "I'm sorry, I don't think I ever got your name."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

Valxeia was about to explode on this woman in front of her, but she caused her mind to slow and take it as an accident. This one was not like the pilot and co-pilot that brought her to the fleet in the first place. She wasn't look to try something, she was just off in her own world.

"Valexia Morey. I don't like holding any official rank but they have me listed as a 1st lieutenant."

Valexia started to put her hand out to grab her bag, stopped for second when she noticed that her cloak's sleeve was coming up to far, so she stopped to adjust it before she took that bag from the lady. She stopped for a second and took a deep breath. She would need to do this eventually and this was a first step to trusting someone else. She reached up with both hands and brought her hood back from around her face. Her deep purple hair spilled out around her shoulders which was a stark contrast to her pink skin. Her violet eyes were piercing and the natural purple tint to her lips, many would think she was covered in makeup, but this was another curse of her people. She noticed the other woman standing there staring and she needed to say something.

"You are Jessica correct. I believe you are green two?"
“This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted.”
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"But generally, Shaggy is right." - Jagtai
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

When the woman took off her hood it caught Jessica off guard. She'd never seen a--what was she? A Zel-something? When Valexia spoke again Jess realized she'd been staring.

"Uh yes, Sir. Flight Officer Jessica Sterling, Sir."

A First Lieutenant? Really? Jess was starting to make a habit of running into superior officers. The two of them stood there staring at each other again before Jess finally broke the awkward silence.

"So, um... You pick your ship yet, Sir?"
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Enriler »

Tyköl sat on the deck of the docking bay. He looked out over the ships that had been gathered for Green Squadron to use. It was clear that many of the ships had seen better days, but there were a couple new beauties sitting among the group.

Damien and Wrench were hard at work trying to ensure the ships were flight ready by tomorrow morning. Otsoa was becoming acquainted with a ship unfamiliar to Ty. Even Alek was settling into an old B-wing. Complicated controls, but he trusted Alek would become a fluent in no time.

He breathed a deep sigh as he saw Jess bump into Valexia. Even from the distance, he knew friendships were forming. And… wow. He couldn't help but fixate his gaze on Valexia as she pulled back her hood. He knew she was a Zeltron, but knowing information about a species and seeing one in person was different.

In that moment, it was as if all of the sensations he had felt when handing Valexia his rifle had come back to him. An uncontrollable gaze was kept on Valexia until she walked out of his line of sight.

Is everything alright? Mae asked, as she felt the strange pull.

Yeah, I think. There’s something about that Zeltron. I don’t like it. And you know, I don’t think she likes it either.

Well hey, don’t get too caught up in it. It’s part of who she is. Part of her species.

Ty breathed in a deeply as he thought about that. This girl was so untrusting… So confrontational… and so scared. He didn’t know anything about her, but knew she needed friends. More than that, she needed a family.

I can read you loud and clear Ty. Should I go talk to her?

Ty smiled, his sister was listening even when he was just in deep thought. Thanks sis, she could use it. And we all know you’re easier to trust than I am.

Ty could feel his sister laughing. But this was interrupted by Bugg.

“Master Truboar, if I may—”

“Interrupt my deep thoughts. Sure go ahead, but don’t call me Truboar.” Ty replied, his last name always sounded so foreign.

“Master Tyköl—”

“Nope, just Ty.”

Bugg began again, “I am very sorry. Master Ty, I was ordered by Alek to ensure that everyone here was getting along fine.” Bugg paused for a moment before adding, “Have you had the opportunity to assess and acquire your ideal ship, or would you like any assistance?”

“Thanks, but…” Ty smiled and waved at Bugg to leave, “I already found a ship. I’ll let you know if I need anything translated from the Wookie down there.”

Bugg began to walk away when Ty spoke up, “You know what… Can you do me a favor Bugg. Can you tell Wrench that that my T-70 is having an issue accepting Willy’s commands?”

“I will do just that, sir.” Bugg gestured in an odd manner and walked away.

Ty looked out at the remaining Pilots. It was a good day, but it was about to get better.

He reached into his pack and pulled out two large thermoses and a couple pales. He was close to running late for the shuttle earlier that day, but not because of Willy’s run-in with a guard. It was because of this.

He twisted open the first thermos and and heard a hiss from the air escaping the container. With that air came an aroma that can only be described as a sensual tease of the tongue. The broth contained within had been worked on diligently by Ty.

His dad was an excellent chef. He was considered to be one of the most revered cooks in Naboo, and had even served the Queen on several occasions. Ty and Mae learned many techniques from him, but none as good as his Marinated Shaak.

The Shaak were a local Naboo creature that large layers of blubber. Just below their blubber covered hide was a tender meat, rich in flavor with different forms of alien fats. The meat alone was considered a delicacy, but what The Great Truboar Chef could do to Shaak hide was worthy of royalty. The Shaak had marinated for three days before being added to the broth, one small aspect of his dad’s recipe.

…and Ty knew the recipe in and out.

The fragrance was savory, with a touch of the scent of the Lyris. As the smell wafted towards Ty’s nose, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. His eyes began to water, and the saliva around his mouth began collecting on both corners.

Food’s ready, and I have enough for about four. Ty thought, hoping Mae was paying attention. If you don’t come soon, I can’t guarantee there will be any left.

Ty saw Alek walking and called out to him.

“Alek, I have some amazing Shaak broth, you hungry?”

Alek looked up from his current path, “What is Shaak broth?”

Ty smiled and used the thermos lid as a fan, directing the aroma towards Alek.

“Ah, words aren’t needed.” Alek said, walking towards Ty, “I’d love some.”

Ty poured some of the broth into one of the empty pales and handed it to Alek with a fork.

“I’d say your special,” Ty said, getting ready to pour himself some of the broth, “But truth is, you just happened to walk by while I was feeling generous.”

“Thank you,” Alek said, nodding in Ty’s direction.

Alek walked away as Ty began to eat the broth. The first bite heightened his sense of taste. As the food slowly chopped around in his mouth, his tongue sang a beautiful tune. It was as if fireworks were going off in his mouth. There was a moment, where everything was right in the galaxy.

There was peace.

As if no wars…
As if no struggles…
As if no Imperial remains…
As if no Jedi and Sith—

Ty paused. This thought sent a rumble through his head. He began to feel lightheaded and uneasy. He thought about the way he spoke to Jess.

Inconsiderate… That’s what he was.

And yeah, he wanted everyone to be on the same side, but as he thought about his speech, did he truly consider the feelings of those who were new. Valexia, Kraven, Jaclen and even Jess had every reason to not be trusting every Green Squadron member. Not to mention the various quarrels we have gotten into amongst ourselves as a squad.

He wanted to believe everyone would be there for each other. He had to believe it.

Because if he chose to be defensive towards those he should call family… would he be prepared for what was out there.

He thought to himself… We need to unite. We need to be there for each other. We need to end these stupid arguments.

He looked out at Wrench and Damien working on the ships. The ships will be ready by tomorrow... Will Green Squadron?
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

"You don't have to call me sir. That is just the official rank they gave me, but to answer your question, this is my ship right here. He is a modified RZ-1 A-wing. I made a special spot for Nightmare" she patted the dome of the the black and chrome droid, "so he could watch my six. I didn't lose to much speed and I can still keep pace with an interceptor. The duel turbo lasers I traded out for Gatling lasers. Doesn't pack the instant punch but they are lighter and gives back some of the mobility lost due to the extra space."

Valexia suddenly realized she was smiling. It didn't happen very often but she was feeling a little more comfortable with Jessica. She was allowing herself to relax, it was against her better judgment but she would start with little steps. She did catch the one called Tyköl, no wait, everyone called him Ty, staring at her. She rolled her eyes and motioned for Jessica to follow her around out of his line of sight.

She knew that the usual reaction to seeing her was to stare. No matter who it was but she was not allow herself to become someone's eye candy. Jessica just followed her around to the other side of the ship.

"I guess they changed the paint scheme to match the rest for Green Squadron. I'm fine with it but the deep purple lines were my favorite." Valexia noticed that Jessica was starting to look a little glossed over, which could be a side effect of the close proximity to her. She reached out and touched the young woman at the shoulder, and asked,

"Which one is yours?"
“This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted.”
-C.S. Lewis
"But generally, Shaggy is right." - Jagtai
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

Jessica felt oddly light headed standing next to this woman and for some reason she just couldn't take her eyes off her. When Valexia talked about her ship Jess couldn't help but smile along with her, she felt strangely relaxed now and she couldn't understand why. There was something she wanted to do a moment ago but now it felt like that didn't matter. Suddenly Valexia turned back to Jess and asked which ship was hers. Jess stared at her a moment then quickly shook her head and forced herself to look away then pointed to her ship.

"Um, that one, S--I mean, that one," she stopped herself before calling Valexia 'Sir' again. "It's the original T-70 they gave me at the academy. I--haven't made any modifications to it, though. The, uh--academy wouldn't let me. It's a nice ship, but it's not like the racer I used to own back home. Now the modifications I made to that ship...," she stopped suddenly when she realized she was going into details of her past.

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized as she turned back to look at Valexia, "I don't usually ramble like that."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

"It happens, don't worry about it." Valexia started to cover herself a little tighter. It was obvious that Jessica had never had any dealings with species that could do what she could. She took a deep cleansing breathe and took a small step back allowing for some more room. She was liking this young woman but she didn't want her abilities to interfere with them becoming acquainted.

"I was told that we were supposed to have the best mechanics in space, so why doesn't you let them have a go with what you would like from your ship. Those little changes we make in it can make or break us in a fight."

Jessica gave a small nod and Valexia could see that the small bit of breathing room she gave was starting to help with clearing Jessica's but she would need to remove herself completely from the situation in order to fully allow her to breathe.

"If you would excuse me, I need to go and stow all my gear. Maybe, we can meet up again in the mess hall for dinner?" Valexia bowed slightly and then put her hood back up. She turned a hurried down the hall. She made of her turns and even in the turbo lifts, she waited till they were empty before she went on in.

Once in her quarters, she inspected everything before she allowed the cloak to fall off of her. She could be herself now. This was her sanctuary and as she stretched she noticed the large auxiliary fan that was concealed very nicely in the ceiling. If someone was to come in, she would just give a command and it would kick on, taking her pheromones out of the room. She didn't need people coming in and getting effected like that, well people didn't need to be coming in at all, it was just a precaution.

She looked at herself in a the mirror, her hair had been matted down but the shades of purple scrolled down her covered shoulders. Her shirt covered much more than normal especially her back. She was taking it off to get into the refresher when she once again saw the scar. The brand mark, it was there and it marred her pink complexion with a puffy almost dark red scar. As she lowered her shirt more, the rest of the scars began to show. Those laser whips can have a nasty effect on the fairer skinned species. Even as she took her right arm up from behind her hair, you could see what were two small marks on her skin from the stun collar.

She closed her eyes and could hear the curses and remarks made by those who had done this to her. What was worse, was the sudden feeling of being completely alone because her old squadron gave her up and abandoned her. The Zygerrians let you know that you were a slave and did everything they could to break you.

Valexia shook her head and could feel her heart racing. She finished getting undressed and slowly walked into the refresher. As the water cascaded down her shoulders and onto the scars, she slowly melted to the floor with her back against the wall. Here she was safe, this was her sanctuary, she was allowed to cry here, and she did.
“This is one of the miracles of love: It gives a power of seeing through its own enchantments and yet not being disenchanted.”
-C.S. Lewis
"But generally, Shaggy is right." - Jagtai
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Starlight »

Mae huffed out a breath, tucked a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear, and wondered to the gods how she always let her brother talk her into these things. Ty was the friend-maker of their family, much like their father was the gregarious life of the party wherever he went. Mae was content to sit back and observe. At least until she could insert an informed comment or two on the conversational topics, if appropriate. She frowned a bit as she navigated down the corridor into the dormitory section, recalling a comment by one of her squadmates at academy. He'd said that Mae always spoke in verbal essays whenever she talked. Complete with thesis statement, three body paragraphs, conclusion, and bibliography. Sure and she'd taken that as a compliment - and still did for the most part - but that didn't exactly mesh well with spontaneous social interractions.

'Oh don't be so modest, sis. Remember that one time back home after graduation and you had six glasses of Festival Punch?'

Mae grumbled and tightened her grip on the rifle case strap. I can't forget. Mostly because you won't let me. A woman gets drunk once in her life-

"Twice..No, three times if you count that one time after our first Green Squad mission."

Muzzle it, bro, or you can go roll out the welcome wagon all by yourself.

Bumble chirped at her, helpfully bumping into the door to her quarters. Once inside she noticed that it was set up to share with one other person, as yet to be determined by the fact that no other bags or personal effects were stored in the small but comfortable room. A shared 'fresher, two beds made up with military precision, two droid charging docks, clothes chests... No creature comforts, but it would do, she thought and dropped her gear on the nearest bed.

"Bumble, do you happen to have a directory of where our squadmates are bunking?" The BB droid chirped in the affirmative, gyroing around in place.

"Excellent. Can you tell me which room is Valexia's?" Bumble warbled and gyroed again. "Next door, huh? That's handy, I'm sure."

Taking a moment to glance in the mirror before she left, Mae grimaced at the reflection when once again, no spectacular changes had occured since the last time she checked. Still the same cool, almond-shaped gray eyes set in a heart-shaped face too angular and sharp-edged for conventional beauty. A small, turned up nose and pointed chin. A dimple sometimes flirted in one cheek when she really smiled but no surprise it wasn't making an appearance now. Mae leaned forward a bit and fluffed at the whispy side-swept bangs she'd decided to try out about a year ago. Most of the time they were pinned back, but sometimes it was nice to soften her features a bit.

"As always.. This is as good as it gets." Shrugging at her reflection, Mae stepped back. "Feel free to hang out here for a few minutes, Bumble. I'll be back soon."

At least it wasn't a far walk. Mae turned a quick corner and found herself at the closed door. She lifted a gloved hand and knocked politely, her features settling into warm neutrality.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

Valexia had collected her self once again. For some reason, no matter the counseling she received or the training she obtained, things would hit her and she would become overwhelmed.

Sometimes it was a smell or a stray memory, but either way she was back in the pit being sprayed down by her captors and then the shock collar would be turned on.

She stopped the memory quickly and took a deep calming breath. She finished her shower and walked out to dry off. She put her hair up and took a look at herself in the mirror. As much as she tried, the Zeltron vanity would rear its head. She was the epitome of physical beauty and she kept herself in the best shape that she could.

Nightmare came up from behind and whistled at her. She smiled like a young girl at a suiter. She put her head in her hand and allowed herself a small laugh. She turned back around and said, "Could you go and find out where everything will be taking place tomorrow. I want to plan my route with the least amount of contact possible."

The droid warbled something and rolled out the door. Valexia smiled again and turned her back to the door allowing her robe to fall past her shoulders so help her dry off faster when the door chimed.

Keeping her back to the door she said, "Well that was quick, come in." She heard the door slide open but instead of seeing a droid in the mirror, she saw the shocked face of the one called Mae.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Starlight »

Why did I think this couldn't get any more awkward. Mae quickly clamped down on the thought before it could broadcast to her brother and cleared her throat.

"My apologies, didn't know you were waiting for someone." Her gaze had flicked over the horrific, scarred landscape of the other woman's back then her eyes fixed up at a vague point on the ceiling, as if examining it for hidden secrets of the galaxy. "I figured we didn't really get off to a great start on the shuttle, so I wanted to say hello under a bit more informal circumstances."

She dropped her eyes back down to stare blandly at Valexia, dead-pan expression. "So.. Hello."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

Normal Zeltrons would have enjoyed someone seeing them in the nude, just not now and not Valexia. She felt her anger start to rise but she tried to put a lid on it. It was a mistake and she had allowed it to happen. She let loose with a string of colorful curses at herself under her breath and she suddenly could feel the room taking on her own mood. She quickly pulled up her robe and stood under the auxiliary fan.

"Fan on" and with that a small but powerful fan could be heard starting. Some very light things moved with the added wind from the fan but it was enough to take her pheromones out of the room. Seeing how Mae was still standing at the door and it was still wide open she knew it was time to say something.

"Please do come in and shut the door behind you. You came here under the pretense of making an aquiantence and it seems like you have gotten to know a lot more about me than I would like." She strode away from the door and as it closed Mae had moved all of about six inches, just enough for the door to fully close. Valexia was into the bathroom but made sure to keep an eye on the other woman. Something flashed in her mind and she spoke up before Mae could say anything.

"Please keep this to yourself, I don't want your brother having mental images of what you just saw. I might not have the full gift as some others of my kin do, but I know telepathy when I feel it." She was trying to grab what clothes she could before she went back out and met the gaze of the still shell shocked Mae.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

I can add zero sense of direction to my list of qualifications, Jess grumbled as she wandered through the halls of the old Venator, the Dagger's Edge. She was a little surprised by Valexia's sudden exit and still a bit light headed from--something. Looking around she tried to get her bearings on where exactly she was on the ship but having never actually been aboard a Venator before she had no idea. Plus there was this nagging feeling she was forgetting about something but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Um, excuse me," she said, flagging down the first person she saw. He was a boy, slightly older than her, probably, and he had the rank insignia Petty Officer Third Class pinned onto his jacket. "Can you tell me where the ship's Quartermaster is?"

"Ah yes, Sir, it's down this way, to the left. Third door on your right," he said, pointing down the direction she had already come from.

Jess tried unsuccessfully to hide her embarrassment at having walked right past it. "Thank you, Petty Officer."

"You're welcome, Sir."

He threw her a salute which Jess quickly returned before adjusting the location of her duffle's strap on her shoulder and heading back the way she came. "I really should have brought Nimbus with me," she muttered to herself. Then she realized she really had no idea where he was. Great, I can only imagine what sort of trouble he's getting into right now.

After a brief chat with the Quartermaster she was given a room number and a map with step by step instructions because apparently he'd 'seen this before.' Jess didn't care, though, she probably wouldn't have found it on her own. It was a short walk to the door and once inside she found someone's duffle already sitting atop one of the beds. She kind of already expected that she would be sharing a room but she had thought she'd be sharing it with at least five other people. Though, considering this ship was one of the largest fielded by the Galactic Republic before the fall she supposed there was quite a bit of room to spread everyone out.

She walked over to the other bed and set her duffle down on top of it before sitting down to take off her boots. That's when she saw the BB unit sitting next to the bed across from her. "You're--Bumble, right," she asked, "Mae's droid?"

Bumble warbled something in reply and Jess smiled. "I guess that means we're roomies," she said, "but, um... You should probably watch yourself around Nimbus. He can be a bit--territorial."

Bumble whistled something else and she shook her head. "No, no, nothing like that. Just, um... If things go missing it was probably him."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

Jaclen was one of the last to leave the shuttle, partly because she was still digesting everything that had occurred on the flight here. Finally, she got up, slung her duffel bag over her shoulder, and headed out and down the ramp. As she passed To'ran, she snapped a quick salute to him and proceeded down the ramp.

She stopped to look at the spacecraft littering the hangar floor. Several fighters had already been taken, but she assumed there was enough to go around.

As she headed into the chaos of spacecraft, her eye caught a glimmer of something familiar. She changed direction, passing around the B-Wing in the center of the hangar. There it was. An old, banged-up T-65 was tucked in between a number of crates. She walked over to it, dropped her duffel bag, and let her hand caress the surface of the craft. She could almost feel the history of the craft.

She walked around it, letting it all sink in. She was so preoccupied with the fighter that she failed to notice a young man coming up to her, until he spoke.

"Excuse me, sir?"

Startled, Jaclen turned around in a flash, hand on her blaster. The young man - a mechanic judging by the jumpsuit - raised his hands in surrender. He smiled, a thoroughly disarming smile that made Jaclen's stomach wobble for a moment.

"Didn't mean to startle you,sir." Jaclen shook her head and removed her hand from the blaster.
"That's alright." She smiled. "I was just so caught in this..."
"...heap of junk?"

Jaclen raised an eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The young man shrugged.
"It's a relic. It hasn't flown for years."
"Is it spaceworthy?"

He shrugged.

"Should be. You're sure you want this one?" Jaclen nodded.
"Positive." He shrugged again.
"Okay, I'll see if I can fix her up. When do you need her?"
"0600 hours."

Jaclen couldn't help smiling at the look on his face. Then he manned up.

"Okay, I'll have it ready. But on one condition."
"Condition?" Jaclen was still smiling.
"Yeah. I want to know your name."
"Flight Officer Jaclen Markai." She extended her hand. The young man smiled mischievously.
"Your first name is Flight Officer?" Jaclen grinned.
"To you it is. And who are you?"
"Spaceman Braden O'Connor."

Jaclen extended her hand.

"Nice to meet you, Spaceman Braden O'Connor." Braden took her hand and shook it.
"Nice to meet you too, Flight Officer Jaclen Markai."

Jaclen let go of his hand.

"I have to go, but I will see you at 0600 hours; with my fighter in tip-top shape." Braden snapped a lazy salute.
"Yes, sir."

As Jaclen left, Braden looked after her. Then he turned to look at the X-Wing. He sighed and mumbled to himself, as he went to get his tools:

"Of course she had to pick the one fighter here that fought at Endor. Just my luck."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by TalRaimi »

Alek had been looking for Bugg when he’d fortuitously wandered past Ty and scored a free meal. Life had taught him to grab either food or sleep whenever the opportunity presented itself so he’s readily accepted Ty’s Shaak broth; of course it didn’t hurt any that it smelled amazing and tasted just as good. And so readily armed he resumed his search for the squadron’s droid.

By this point his squad mates had swarmed over the hanger like fleas on a Hutt in search of their chosen fighters. His eyes widened as he walked past a fighter even larger than the B Wing and saw Otsoa busy at work in the cockpit; obviously it was something from his home planet and he made a point to ask him about it later in the mess hall.

“Ah, there you are!” Alek spied Bugg’s metal carcass peeking out from behind a Y-Wing. “Why did you wander off?!”

The droid turned, cocking its insecoid head to the side in imitation of a human. He almost looked confused. “Wander off? I was merely following your instructions Master Riven, you told me to go see...”

“Whatever, enough excuses,” Alek muttered between mouthfuls of broth. “I need you to do something for me.”

“I... what... you...” the droid began before stopping abruptly, his shoulders seemed to slump in resignation. “How can I assist you, Master Riven?

“How quickly can you arrange for me to get a test flight in the B-Wing?”

“Well once the required paperwork is completed and a qualified instructor assigned I should think... three to four days would be reasonable.”

“Three to four days!” Alek almost spit out his stew. “Look, I don’t need an instructor. I was flying B-Wings in the simulator when I was a teenager. I just need to take her out and familiarise myself with her.”

A part of Alek knew that choosing to pilot a craft he had never flown in the flesh before was at best naive and at worst reckless, but he found that he was unable to resist the challenge. Flying the T-70’s had become boring and from what he knew only the most capable pilots had been chosen to pilot the B-Wings.

“Master Riven, you’re not certified to fly a B-Wing and therefore arranging for a test flight without the requisite paperwork and safety measure would be in breach of article twenty one, subsection thirty nine of the New Republic code of...”

“Shut up, Bugg.”

“Shutting up, Sir.”

“Is there any way to circumvent the rule?”

“Well, yes. Should a superior officer of the Rank of Captain authorise it I can...”

“Shut up, Bugg.”

“Shutting up, Sir!”

“Get To’ran to authorise it and then arrange for me to check her out before the briefing tomorrow. Come and find me once it’s done. ”

“Yes, Sir.”

Alek turned to go before pausing, “Oh and Bugg?”

“Yes, Master Riven?”

“Get rid of this will you.” he handed the droid his empty plate before heading back to where he’d left his duffle. It would take Bugg a little time to arrange for his flight and he could use that time to find his quarters and get settled in.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Starlight »

Mae took hold of her uncertain temper with both hands and held it firm. The fine hairs on the back of her neck rose, in indignation as well as the shock of having someone vocalize the bond Mae and Ty shared.

"I don't think we'd term it telepathy.. Just a twin bond," she replied, her voice as stiff as her straightened spine. "But I'll trade you discretion for discretion, as it seems only reasonable. No one living is aware of our connection. We'd prefer to keep it that way." Mae tried to unbend enough to smile, it came out as a chilly smirk. "Less paperwork that way. And there was no pretense about my coming over. I can leave just as easily as not, if that's the way you want it." She shrugged, willing her shoulders to relax. "Some people prefer to hold others at a comfortable distance. I'm usually one of them, in fact. Or we could figure third time's a charm and start over again."

When Valexia came back into the room, Mae held out a gloved hand. "Maetay Truboar."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

Valexia could tell that she had touched a nerve. She was not trying to be offensive but she was in protection mode. She would need to watch how she spoke to Mae. She had been putting her clothes on. She kept her skin covered as much as she could. Her persuasion could be intensified with physical touch. She had finished putting her own gloves on as Mae's hand came up to her. She reached out and shook it.

"Valexia Morey and I didn't attempt to come across to strong. Sometimes people's first experience with my people can be... unsettling." She motioned to a couch in the small living area which Mae to a seat at.

"I am not sure if you have ever had a one on one with a Zeltron before, especially some of the men, our physical presence can be striking and it doesn't help with our reputation we have. Our home planet is the entertainment capital of the galaxy and usually we are seen as not having a clue of what is going on outside of whatever room we are in. Genetic manipulation, gene isolation, and all the fun stuff has put us there. Here are the main parts I will be completely honest with you about. We can emit certain pheromones that can allows us to nudge species to feel a certain way. It happens naturally which is why I wear that cloak behind you, it helps to keep them in check. that is also why I have my own quarters here."

Valexia took another deep breath. She needed to be a little bit more open right now. Whether she liked it or not, she would need these people to watch her back. "There other part is, Zeltrons have a sense of telepathy. Once again, it 'helps' with the entertainment part of our people. Imagine knowing exactly what pleases you employer and then making them feel like they are on top of the world without ever touching them. Others are much more skilled than I am, but I can feel certain things, especially if two are using a connection like you and your brother."

"And the scars?" Mae spoke very softly.

Valexia didn't even bat an eye and responded the instant the question was asked.

"That is not something I am willing to talk about, to anyone right now." There was an edge to her voice which clear said, "do not ask again."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Nichalus »

To'ran watched with a bemused smile as the squadron moved off the shuttle and began searching through the crowded hangar bay for their ships. He was even more heartened by the fact that the older, more seasoned, veterans were mingling with the new pilots. Valexia would be a challenge, as himself and Jax were the only people aboard that knew her full, and brutally tragic, history. But the Admiral had taken a shine to the Zeltron, not only just for the tragedy that was her past, but for the tenacity that she had shown by trying to forge a future beyond it.

All in all, judging from first impressions, he thought the new Green Squadron would come together, but it will be a challenging future. The thought brought a smirk to his lips when he thought Thank the Gods that it will be Jax that had to deal with it.

Slowly he made his way out of the hangar and into the main corridor of the ship...his ship...he corrected himself. For nearly 2 decades he had served with Admiral Damus, both as a member of the Green Squadron under his command and then when he pulled him from Green and appointed him as his XO aboard The Harm's Way.

That day was a very bittersweet moment in his life. He didn't want to leave Green, but the Admiral was insistent that this was the best move for him. So many battles, both on the ground and in the cockpit. Victories and defeats. Friends met and far too many lost. But he was loyal to the Admiral, from the moment when he was just a grumpy Bothan Captain in the Rebel Alliance that placed his faith in a human, to the present when he was still a grumpy Bothan, but now wore the rank of an Admiral.

He's been preparing for this day. He thought to himself. If it was anything, Damus was a master planner. He seemed to always have a contingency plan for every possible situation. Whether it was preparation for an attack, or the possibility of a trap, he would always seem to find a solution that would enable them to survive. It was something that he ingrained into a much younger To'ran's mind.

You must prepare for all contingencies young Human. Even the best of plans are failures waiting to happen. The true victor in a fight is not the one that wins or loses, but the one that is 'prepared' to win or lose.

It was these types of confusing statements that made him wonder if Damus was toying with him, or just plain insane. In the end, he came to the conclusion that the Bothan was a little bit of both. But the Admiral's war record was clear, that even in defeat, the survival rates of his crews were impressive. He knew the precise time to strike, and was a step ahead when the time came to retreat when the odds were stacking against him. He was almost Corellian in his luck.

He smiled at the various crewman that stood up from what they were doing or was passing by with equipment and returned their salutes, but then caught his reflection in a viewport he was passing by. His hands were firmly clasped behind his back, his back straight...I look like a furless Bothan Admiral. He smirked to himself and continued down the corridor to the main turbo lift and stepped in.

The lift came to a stop and the blast door opened to reveal, what To'ran called, Controlled Chaos. Techs and Officers were moving back and forth on the two-tiered bridge as new consoles were being placed onto the old bridge stations both on the upper and lower decks. For her day, the Dagger's Edge was a marvel of the times in advancements in propulsion and weaponry for ship to ship combat. She had seen action during the Clone Wars and faced Separatist Dreadnoughts in some well-known battles including Sullust, Christophsis and Coruscant.

While 60 years ago the ship needed a massive crew complement of over 7000 to run her properly, with the advancement of modern tech, in the decades between, that crew compliment was whittled down to a 1/3rd of the amount and could control the systems more efficiently. New'ish' hull plates were taken from various other ships in the decommission yard and retrofitted onto her hull. A new power plant was provided from a newer model Bothan Assault Cruiser, and while smaller than the original, it provided ample power for the new shield generators and even allowed them to add two more Heavy Turbolaser turrets and 2 more Medium Dual Turbos.

Standing at the railing on the upper level of the bridge, To'ran watched as his crew was doing their work and then heard the Ensign standing next to him clear his throat.

"Yes Ensign?"

"Sir, welcome aboard." The ensign snapped a crisp salute and then handed To'ran a datapad. "Prep is moving on schedule and the power systems are revving up. The Chief stated..." The ensign paused as if embarrassed to continue.

"Go ahead Ensign, I know the Chief has a way with words." To'ran smiled.

"...he says 'She'll be purring like a Twi'lek whore in High Town within the hour."

"That is comforting to know coming from him." To'ran chuckled.

"Also, the XO has been delayed at Hosnian Prime. There appears to have been a...incident...at a local cantina."

"Well." To'ran tried to hide his smirk, but failed badly. "Dugs aren't known for their...hospitality."

The ensign could only nod in agreement. "If that will be all sir, I've got to monitor the power systems as the engines come online."

"Dismissed Ensign...and good work. Keep me up to date." He returned the ensign's salute, who then trotted back over to the power station.

Zeltrons, Dugs and Misfits. One thing is for sure. This will be better than a Holoshow at the cinema.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

"The fault is in the bypass circuit, Ratter. It is the only explanation for why there is a power drop when the shields are angled forward." Vaylen was covered in sweat, dust, and variety of the X-Wing's excretions, which was probably just as gross as it sounded.

Ratter made his opinion known in a rather flat tone. "Wrong."

"It's not the wiring harness. The harness is in a sealed duct in the ship. No atmosphere, no decay." Vaylen frown at Ratter, who, for a droid with only one eye, still managed to look askance. "Fine, I will prove it to you."

Pulling himself out of the nose panel of the snubfighter, the Twi'lek operated the small wheeled lift over a different maintenance panel underneath the X-Wing, using the special tool to open it up.

A few choice words slipped out of Vaylen's mouth as a desiccated corpse of a mynock fell out of small compartment with a cloud of wire bits. It took him a moment or two of wiping to get all of the dust out of his eyes. Somehow, a baby mynock had found its way into the conduit and glutted itself before apparently getting stuck and dying. It had made a mess of the wiring, though not to the point of actually disabling the ship's controls, but enough where all it would have taken was a good jolt to start shorting circuits.

Ratter was silent in his self assured triumph. Vaylen shot him a look, to which Ratter simply rocked back and forth.

"Okay. You win this time." Vaylen admitted defeat as gracefully as he could manage. He lowered himself down from the maintenance lift, grabbing a clean rag and wiping the perspiration and grime off of his face. "I'm going to get a drink and request a new wiring harness. I will be back shortly."

Ratter beeped his acknowledgement as the Twi'lek wiped his hands off on the cleanest part of his overalls he could find, and began making his way towards the small ready room near the hanger that stocked drinks and snacks for the pilots.

The sound of footsteps caused him to half turn, seeing one of the newer pilots walking away from one of the older, battle worn X-Wings, moving in his general direction.

Jaclen Markai, if Vaylen remembered correctly, although the two had not had the opportunity for an official introduction.

He paused a moment until the distance between them had closed. "Interesting choice of craft." He spoke as she entered into easy conversation distance. "Most people would have been dissuaded by the age, but I'm guessing you like the reverence of history that accompanies a ship like that. I considered that one myself."

Vaylen ensured his hand was as clean as it was going to get by wiping it one last time on his jumpsuit. "I am Vaylen, Green Nine. I don't believe we've officially met yet."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

As Jaclen crossed the floor, she was intercepted by one of the older pilots, Vaylen.

She took his hand and shook it. "Jaclen Markai, Green Eight. I don't think we have, no." She smiled. "Yes, I had intended to pick one of the T-85s, but this one just sort of - spoke to me, I guess. Like I was meant to pick it."

After leaving Braden, she had thought of something, and decided to ask Vaylen.

"Is it normal for Green Squadron members to repair their own craft? I've noticed that a lot of us are working on their respective fighters."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

Vaylen smiled slightly at her question. "I don't think there is much about Green Squadron that qualifies as 'normal', but you will find that many of the Squadron members are at least actively involved in the maintenance of their craft. I suppose you ask twelve people why, you would get a dozen answers. Some don't trust the mechanics to do their job right. Some just like the tasks involved in maintaining the machine. Others, like myself, feel a deeper connection with their ship when they know it inside and out."

He stopped for a moment, readjusting his lekku and looking back in the direction of X-Wing Jaclen had picked out. "The bottom line is, out in combat, that craft will be the only thing between you and death, and the first time something goes mechanically wrong with it, you will wish you had inspected it yourself. The spirit of that machine spoke to you, and you answered it, so the two of you now share a bond. It now falls to you either to strengthen that bond or to let it atrophy."

They were nearing the edge of the hanger now, and Vaylen gave her another brief smile. "I apologize for being long winded. Some accuse me of talking too little and some accuse me of talking too much, so I'm still looking for my perfect center."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

Jaclen has listened intently. She had always been a fast learner, and enjoyed looking at things from different perspectives. She resolved to go and help Braden, as soon as she was done with her current task.

She smiled and shook her head, as she replied: "I didn't think you long-winded. Thank you for answering my question." She looked back at her T-65, then at Vaylen. "Do you really think it has a spirit?"

The more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Starlight »

"Fair enough," Mae replied and dropped the subject willingly. Everyone was entitled to their barriers, herself included. Besides, she didn't want to talk about the link with Ty, either.

"Well," she continued, and pushed herself up from her seat. "Like I said, I just wanted to say hi. I will let you get settled for the night. Feels like it will be a packed day tomorrow."

Mae held out her hand again, Valexia smoothly took it in her own, rising with a liquid grace that Mae couldn't help but envy for a moment. "See you in the morning."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

Vaylen smiled at her question, an expression that was muted by years of hardship and emotional control, but still contained a note of warmth. He was unused to having people respond with anything other than scorn or skepticism when he spoke of his spiritual beliefs, so he found Jaclen's response refreshing.

"I do. There is very little difference between biological and mechanical organisms, other than we are responsible for the creation of the mechanical. One is made mostly of carbon, the other silicon, but both vary greatly in size, complexity and intelligence, and both are possessed of a deeper spirit than one might think."

They stopped walking as they reached the corridor leading out of the hanger, next to the open door to the ready room. Vaylen paused here, as it was likely Jaclen's destination was further into the ship than his.

"Is this your first deployment?" He asked curiously.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

Jaclen smiled. She decided that she liked Vaylen and his views on droids.

She stopped next to the ready room, and nodded in response to Vaylen's question.

"Yes, I'm fresh out of the academy. I'm sure you can imagine my surprise, when I was posted to Green Squadron. How long have you been in the squadron?"

She thought she'd overheard someone saying he was a veteran, but she couldn't be sure. Better to ask the man himself.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

Valyn gave a light shrug. "A few years. Unfortunately, it is not as impressive as it sounds, since Green Squadron as been so inactive we have only seen slightly more action than your typical security force. It's much more impressive that you were hand selected out of Academy. Most experienced pilots apply to Green Squadron and either have to wait for an opening or just don't measure up to the necessary qualifications. You must have a lot of natural skill."

He glanced into the ready room and then across the hanger where he could almost see Ratter glowering at him. "I need to find myself a drink and get back to work. Perhaps we will talk more later?"
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

Jaclen smiled and nodded.

"I would like that."

She gave another nod before turning and venturing further into the bowel of the ship. As she walked, she went over the conversation again, digesting it all. She was thankful that Vaylen had taken the time to talk to her. At least she knew she'd get along with one of her squadron mates.

*****

After asking for directions of a passing NCO, she arrived at the Quartermaster. A middle-aged Petty Officer stood behind the counter, typing on a datapad. He snapped a lazy salute, as she entered.

"Sir." Jaclen smiled.
"Petty Officer. I need to requisition an astromech droid." He shrugged.
"There aren't anyone left. They have all been requisioned already."
"You mean to say that you don't have any spares? Surely you can requisition one from somewhere." Jaclen was a little annoyed now. The Petty Officer shrugged again.
"Sorry. Unless it's a pressing matter..." Jaclen interrupted him.
"It's for a T-65. It needs an astromech droid to function to par. I'd say that's a pressing matter."

Petty Officer Third Class Tecola was growing annoyed with this officer. He did indeed have some astromech droids, but he wasn't going to give a fighter jock - a Green Squadron fighter jock, no less - one of them.

"Sorry." Jaclen leaned forward, eyes shooting lightning.
"That's 'sorry, sir', Petty Officer. And I'd like to speak to your superior."

Tecola looked up. If Jaclen spoke to the Quartermaster himself, he'd be in trouble. Then he had a devilish idea. He snapped a crisp salute.

"Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. Let me look at the inventory list again." He pretended to check his datapad, then nodded. "Oh yes, we have one left, sir. Quite capable, but a little flawed, sir."
"Flawed?" Tecola smiled disarmingly.
"Don't worry, sir, it's nothing alarming. I'm afraid it's all I have." Jaclen rolled her eyes.
"Fine, give the 'flawed' droid."
"Yes sir." Tecola turned around. "Buzz! Get out here!"

A moment later, an white and orange BB unit rolled out from the storage room, whistling obscenities loudly. Tecola nodded towards Jaclen.

"Buzz, meet your new pilot."

Buzz rolled around the counter and stopped in front of Jaclen. It whistled. Jaclen cocked her head.

"Yeah? Well, you aren't much to look at either." Buzz rolled forward and bumped into her leg; by pure instinct, she kicked Buzz so the droid rolled backwards, whistling in surprise. Jaclen looked down as him. "Oh, please, you started it."

Buzz whistled, and turned so it looked at Tecola. Then it whistled something obscene, and rolled out of the Quartermaster's office. Jaclen nodded to Tecola and followed the droid.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Mir »

Jakob had the luxury of not having to select a fighter. His T-65 had been transferred over without any issues. The fighter had a long history in the Teller family. His father had flown the fighter years ago and he had been modifying and maintaining the fighter since around the Battle of Hoth. The fighter had been in the shop for some time due to the finicky nature of the hyperdrive, and Jakob was happy that his time in the loaner T-70 was over. He had nothing against the T-70 design, or the new T-85 design, but to him, the T-65 was tried and true. The design had been the workhorse of the Rebel Alliance Starfighter corps for a reason and Jakob loved his fighter. It was something that was in the family, and his family was intimately tied with Green Squadron, making the fighter Green Squadron too.

With the time on his hands, he had been able to go over to the S3 of the Red Dagger Fleet. An Operations shop was a tricky thing to be in charge of and it was one of the few things that Jakob didn’t like about being the commander of a fighter squadron. Operation orders or OPORDS were often times ridiculous things to deal with, considering the language involved. Overly complicated plans and time hacks that were difficult to deal with were only part of the headache. While the mission plans that Damus drafted were fairly no nonsense and straightforward, there were still a number of people that they ran through before they got to Teller.

Which was why having Damus on speed dial was a blessing. Though often a curse.

From S3, he had made the quick walk over to the S2 shop. The underappreciated, overworked, and often blamed S2 shop. Military Intelligence was an incredibly hard job to pull off. Usually referred to as an oxymoron, military intelligence was predicated on the notion of being able to guess, with education, the likely tactics, techniques, and procedures of a foe in an area of operations. TTPs, as they were called, constantly changed and shifted. This meant that getting good information from the intel shop was a must.

Now, he was waiting in the ready room, for the rest of the squadron to arrive, as he looked over the briefings he had and the mission they had received.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Pryde »

Jessica awoke the next morning with a jolt, literally a jolt from Nimbus' arc welder. The little droid had used his cables to get up on her bed and jolt her awake. Afterward he whistled something about her being late. "Late," Jessica cried in a half doze before bolting from her bed and hastily pulling on her uniform. She was in such a hurry that she was fully clothed and out the door before even realizing that Mae was still in bed.

The hallways outside were sparsely populated which seemed oddly strange but Jess didn't take the time to consider what that meant. Instead she made a beeline for the ready room with Nimbus rolling hastily along behind her. When she got there she found the room completely empty and she just stood there dumbfounded in the doorway until finally she checked her chrono, 0600 hours. She pinched the bridge of her nose and resisted the urge to scream as Nimbus wheeled about making that sound he made whenever he was laughing.

"I'm going to get a caff," she said finally and she turned and headed back down the hallway from where she came.

It was about an hour and a half later when she came back. This time Jakob was in the room going through some documents. He looked up as she came in and Jess quickly threw him a salute. "Sir," she said by way of greeting.

Jakob returned the salute then lowered his arm. "Take a seat, Pilot."

Jess headed up and took her usual seat near the middle of the room as Jakob turned his attention back to his mission briefing. "Eager for your first mission," he asked, "It's so unlike you to show up early."

"I was actually here more than an hour ago thanks to this bucket of bolts," she complained, kicking Nimbus with a loud clang. Nimbus whistled something back and Jess gave him a sharp look. "Oh quiet you, you're lucky I didn't reprogram you."

Nimbus beeped again and Jess just rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair her mind somewhere between wide awake and a half doze. "So," she said aloud, "no spoilers but what exactly do we have to look forward to?"
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Mir »

Jakob had set everything up and then gone to bed. The meeting time had been set for the next day. He'd known that. But his father had always taught him the mentality that the commander always put his troops first. So he had been in the ready room, war gaming everything out in his head and through the command style simulation equipment. The law that everything that could go wrong would go wrong was always in effect. Rarely more present than in starfighter battles, the rule was a constant thing in the back of his mind. When hurtling through atmosphere-less space at insanely reckless speeds, the number of variables was worrisome in the least and outright scary at the most. All it took was a light hand on the flight controls and a stray laser shot could create a vacant spot in a starfighter squadron. The laser shot didn't care if it was taking down an enemy or if in after action reports, it would be deemed friendly fire.

It would lance through shields and through durasteel alloys all the same.

This was the reason why Jakob liked being as prepared as he could be, though he always maintained a healthy level of being all to wing it. He’d had a famous Rebel Alliance now New Republic squadron commander tell him that anyone who was a fighter pilot was a crazy bastard, but they were the right kind of crazy to be a fighter pilot. Teller had to agree.

“No diplomatic vessels, this time, Jessica. As far as I’m aware.” Jakob stated, giving her a hard look.

To her credit, Jessica did attempt a look of embarrassment and turned away slightly, pretending to be preoccupied with a dirt spot on Nimbus.

In the distance, they started hearing the sound of wailing guitars, amplified through electric means, played with dexterous fingers, and shredding the musical scale. There was the sound of angry drums, furious hihats, and marching snares as the heavy metal music continued to grow in volume. Jakob found himself idly tapping his fingers in rhythm to the song, his head bobbing with the beat. As the volume increased, he started to frown. Who was possibly playing what sounded like screaming death metal this loud on board a New Repub….

He poked his head out of the room, glaring down the hallway.

Mate rolled up and past him, followed by a young ensign who looked rather confused and out of place. The ensign was holding a large boom box of sorts. The droid made his way into the ready room and did a tight circle as he jammed out to the music, his head moving in different directions.

“Turn that down.” Jakob said, sternly.

Can’t hear you bro. Getting ready to rage.

“I said, ‘Turn that down’.” Jakob repeated.

It’s like the vibe means nothing to you. C’mon bro, r a g e with me.

Jakob reached over and switched the boom box off. Mate, who had been continuing to spin in tight circles ground to a halt and stared up at Jakob.

What in the name of everything that is holy and sane do you think you’re doing? This is how I get in the mood for a fight. You know this, bro. What the hell?! I hate you. I can’t believe you would do this. I’ve done this every single time we have a-

“In the privacy of quarters.” Jakob said. “Not in public where people can see you.”

I’m not embarrassed. This is who I am. I thought you accepted me and-

“Mate.” Jakob said, leveling a finger at him. “You’re scaring Jessica.” He said.

Mate turned and looked at Jessica who waved, nonchalantly. I’m not forgetting this. Next time you need a spotter on your decline bench press, you find someone else. He turned to the ensign. This party’s lame. Let’s go Wally.

“My name is Contrallis.” The ensign said, turning to Jakob with a look of desperation.

Move, Wally! Mate said, and rolled out of the room, with Wally/Contrallis in tow.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Shaggy »

Valexia was up before her alarm needed to go off due to her internal alarm had gone off a half a hour earlier. She sat in her room running through some relaxation breathing techniques. She didn't get much form her mother, but this was at least one good memory she had. Crawling into her mom's lap and watching as she went through her morning routine of meditation was the only real time they ever spent together.

It allowed her to focus her thoughts and to push those flashes of her torture to the back of her mind where they needed to stay. Today was prep and planning so she needed to be focused.

Nightmare's whistle pulled her out of her meditation. She nodded at him and began to stretch. She had the body of a dancer but that was just for show. Usually people would drop their guard around her and that was usually their last mistake. Her years or grappling and hand to hand combat ensured that no one could take advantage of her physically...ever. She allowed her robe to fall to her feet as she moved with a light grace across her room. She picked out her outfit for the meeting. Nothing flashy and she made sure that her back was nearly completely covered. The scars didn't go all the way down her back but she didn't want to take a chance.

She went with a very basic grey t-shirt and small light jacket. She worse regular pants that clung a little tighter to her body than regular fighter suits. She put her multi hued purple hair in a low ponytail so her cloak would fit over her head enough with any obstructions. She looked in the mirror and her pink skin tone contrasted with the grey of her outfit. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, centering herself one more time before she donned her cloak.

"Auxiliary fan on." she said and the slight sound of a fan turning on filled the room as she turned toward Nightmare. "Let's go." She pulled her hood up and walked out the door towards the meeting room. She heard some loud, obnoxious music coming form down the hall. She heard some voices and then it sounded as if it continued down the hall. Valexia slowly moved down the hall until she came into eye sight of Jakob.

He would be considered attractive, for a human, but he seemed to carry a weight on his shoulders that taxed him. She understood carrying burdens that might not be your own. She walked up to him and addressed him, "Commander..." She forced a small smile but due to the hood, he probably never saw it. She took a seat in the back and noticed Jessica already there, looking like she was swimming someplace in between sleep and being awake. She nodded at her and took her seat.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

Vaylen took the time to shower before the briefing this time. He figured there were only so many briefings he could show up to smelling like an oil drum before someone would take exception.

He hadn't slept much the night before; the repairs had been more extensive than he had anticipated, and time had progressed well into the ship's simulated night cycle before he felt confident the venerable ship was combat worthy. There were still numerous optimizations that he wanted to fine tune, but the bulk of the work was done, and he was satisfied with his progress if not necessarily his timetable.

Regrettably, the pesky need for sleep and hygiene had left him running later than he would have liked. Leaving Ratter to recharge in his quarters, Vaylen dressed quickly, throwing on simple trousers and a T-shirt, which was basically his only set of clothes when he excluded uniforms and jumpsuits. Someday, he told himself as he strode down the corridors towards the briefing room, maybe I will expand my wardrobe... But I guess first I would have to learn some fashion sense. He shook his head at the thought. Someday is a long way away.

He still had several minutes to spare by the time he reached the briefing room, and, even though there were still others who had yet to arrive, Vaylen felt a tinge of irritation for not being earlier. It may have been a small thing, but he always had felt that punctuality showed interest and attentiveness to the subject at hand.

Commander Teller was currently in conversation, so Vaylen bypassed him with a nod, then settled for finding a vacant seat near the edge of the room. Once there, he took a quick glance around, inventorying who was present so far. Most everyone was there, though there were a few notable absences. Most interestingly, Vaylen noted that two people from Third Flight were missing: the young Tak Sevell and Commander O'Malek.

Vaylen didn't know either of them very well. The former was little more than a kid who scored well in the simulators and even had a few confirmed kills to his name. Vaylen was reserving judgement on him, having not had the opportunity to engage with him other than in passing conversation.

The latter... The latter was more complicated.

Vaylen hadn't pried into the man's past, but he had heard rumors that the Commander (maybe former Commander; Vaylen wasn't really clear on whether there had been a reduction of rank, or merely of station) had voluntarily stepped down from a leadership position to be a pilot in a completely different squadron in a completely different fleet. Vaylen could only imagine two situations that would have led to this: O'Malek had stepped down in lieu of a more punishing reprimand due to some grievous disciplinary infraction, or he was so determined to get into Green Squadron, he was willing to give up on the squadron he had been in command of.

Neither option filled Vaylen with great confidence. One way, O'Malek was a man running from his mistakes, the other he pursued his own agenda above the needs of those around him.

Those were gross generalizations, of course. Without more information, Vaylen knew he could spend all day guessing at why things were the way they were, but ultimately, it didn't matter. He was part of Green Squadron, and part of Third Flight, and his past aside, Vaylen was content to have someone of his obvious experience to help balance out the other two novice pilots of the Flight.

Vaylen's amber eyes trailed down to the front of the room where Iris was sitting in the front row, datapad in hand, ready to take notes on the upcoming briefing. While Valyn might have qualified himself as a private person, Iris took that to a whole new level, earning the distinction of being evasive about her personal life. All he really knew about her was her simulator scores tended to be on the low end of the spectrum, but were passable, and she would become... quite impassioned if someone were to even hint that she might not be cut out for Green Squadron. There were whispered rumors about her transfer to the Squadron being rather irregular and sudden, but no one really seemed to know how or why it was irregular. Like all good rumors, no one knew how it started or where it came from.

He watched her small, sleek frame for a moment, noting the way her fur rippled even as she sat waiting. Much like his lekku, he had heard Bothans were quite expressive through the subtle fluctuations of their fur, though he could only guess what she was expressing now. Boredom, maybe. Or impatience. Either way, she handled it well enough, maintaining her composure as she sat almost motionless.

Vaylen noticed the Bothan wore a rather expensive looking skirt and top and a several shining pieces of gold jewelry which glittered brightly against her ebony fur. While Bothan beauty might have been a question of taste to most humanoids, if pressed Vaylen would have admitted Iris had a pleasing shape and knew how to dress to enhance that. There was no question that she was the best dressed person in the room, which left only the question of why she felt that she needed to dress up for such a routine occasion.

It was definitely an eccentric lot. But they were united by a superior skill set, and a strong desire to succeed. Without those two things, the people in this room were no different than the thousands of other pilots across the galaxy. There were some strong differences among the pilots assembled here, and only time would tell if the leadership would be strong enough to hold those differences together.

He leaned back in his chair, content to see what would happen next.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by TalRaimi »

Alek awoke to find himself still fully dressed, the lights on and the B-Wing technical manual he had been reading the night before draped across his chest. He looked at his chrono, it read quarter to eight. Sithspit. He groaned and swatted the manual aside before rolling out of bed, booted feet thumping onto the deck. A quick glance at the opposite bunk told him his roommate either had yet to arrive or was an early riser. Either way it meant there was no queue for the fresher.

In record time Alek had pulled his boots off, peeled away his flight suit and dunked himself under the fresher. All this was done in a post awakening haze as if on autopilot. Pulling on a fresh flight suit, Alek grabbed his boots and headed for the door, pulling them on one at a time.

As he hurried through the corridors of the Star Destroyer he checked his comm and was mildly annoyed not to find a message from Bugg about his request for flight time in the B-Wing. Damn bucket of bolts! He was going to have words for the droid when he saw him.

Slowing as he neared the briefing room, he ran a hand through his still wet hair, smoothing it back into some sort of shape. Idly he wondered if they were off books how long he could get away with growing it? His wavy brown hair was already over regulation length but not quite long enough to tie back yet.

Composing himself he entered the briefing room, he zipped his dark green flight suit up and glanced around, relieved to find he wasn’t the last one to arrive. Spying Vaylen seated near the edge of the room, Alek gave a nod to Teller and then slipped into the seat next to the Twi’Lek.

“Lieutenant,” Alek greeted Vaylen. He noticed the other's gaze lingering on the squadrons resident Bothan, who was if anything almost as much of an enigma as the newly joined Valexia. “Did I miss the memo? Was this a black tie event?”
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Xalsin »

Vaylen offered a smile to the other pilot as he was taking a neighboring seat. "I'm afraid that you, I, and nine others might have been left off of that memo's distribution list. I wish I could say that I learned to stop trying to understand why people do what they do, but truth is, I still try to understand."

Vaylen adjusted his Lekku so that they both came to rest down his back. "Not that it helps, it still perplexes me."

He glanced around, but there were still a few people absent.

"I saw the flight roster last night. I'm glad you ended up with Dutari as your Flight Lead. I've been in more than one scrape with him, and he is as solid as they come. I don't know much of Markai, but she seems to have a good foundation of talent and reasonableness, which only leaves Morey to be the wildcard in your flight. Seems that there is always one in every group. Sometimes more than one."

His eyes drifted over towards the door as it opened and Flight Officer Sevell walked in. The man couldn't have been more than twenty three cycles, and still had a touch of a lanky thinness of youth, though it was obvious from his well developed arms and chest he was undertaking efforts to lose that boyish look in favor of something more muscular.

Sevell walked with sauntering gait, partially because of the biomechanical leg fitted from the knee down on his right leg, but also partially because his sim scores were constantly near the top of the list, and he knew it. While everyone said sim scores really didn't mean anything, everyone knew that sim scores were the closest thing to an objective standard for pilots to compare themselves by.

Sevell took a seat near the back of the room, and Vaylen had to suppress a brief tremor of irritation at the man's attitude, walking in so unapologetically at the last minute.

"Or," Vaylen continued his covnversation with Alek, "in the case of Green Squadron, you could end up with an entire group of wildcards and cross every finger you have that it somehow works out okay. I would not want the job of trying to manage us."
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by Jagtai »

Jaclen woke up about an hour before the meeting. After stretching, she jumped in the 'fresher. As she stood there, cold water cascading down her back, she contemplated the events of the evening.

After picking up Buzz, she had returned to Braden and started helping out. The two had barely spoken, but from the look in his eyes she knew he had appreciated her help.

She had gone to bed around 0300. By that time, the T-65B was flightworthy. Braden had led the repairs, with Jaclen obeying orders – she knew her way around an engine, but Braden was much more experienced and knowledgeable – and Buzz calibrating the software.

She and Buzz had developed a grudging respect for each other, and Jaclen had allowed Buzz to handle his side of the repairs without interference. When they checked his work afterwards, Buzz had done his job to perfection.

She got out of the 'fresher and dressed, before making her way to the briefing. When she entered, she realized she had made a rookie mistake; she wore her duty uniform, as spotless as it had been in the academy – no-one else was.

She snapped a quick salute to Jakob, nodded to familiar faces, and sat down in the back row, awaiting the start of the briefing.
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by TalRaimi »

“Like herding Cathar,” Alek agreed with a wry smile as he noticed Jaclen arrive wearing her duty uniform.

Well, at least one other person got the memo.

He glanced around, noting that the squadron had spread itself out. “We need to all get drunk,” he declared suddenly.

“Pardon?” Vaylen gave Alek an enquiring glance?

“My father maintained you never truly know someone until you get drunk with them,” Alek began to explain. “Intoxicants reduce your inhibitions, lower your guard and help you relax. I don’t need to tell you that right now Green Squadron is kind of... divided. We don’t know each other, we don’t trust each other. Once we get our permanent assignment we should think about organising some downtime. I bet Tykol could organise it.”
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Re: Green Squadron: Title to Be Voted On But Maybe Negating Order

Post by VagueDurin »

"Pilots, will be Pilots." - Said any number of non-pilots, an infinite amount of times...

The only thing a pilot enjoyed more than flying... or drinking... or rather drinking after flying... well anyway, new toys!

Otsoa didn't need to guess, the echoes of tools and machinery told him that he was certainly not alone into the wee hours of the morning doing everything within his and his astromech's power to return his out of date starfighter to operational status. The ISV had admittedly looked much more spaceworthy on the outside, from across the hangar, and well Lonny didn't hesitate to make Otsoa aware of that each and every time they tripped a flag on the diagnostic.

The droid was of the unshakable opinion that his pilot had made the dumbest choice in the history of choices by passing up the T85's for what the R6 unit called 'A relic that time forgot.'

"You can see right there in the SCU that her build date was 6 years after Endor!" Otsoa argued. "Need I remind you of your own?"

Lonny blatted back a string of droid curses that could make a working-bot blush, causing the Urmaellian to laugh deep from his belly. A plume of Shento smoke billowing from the compartment his upper half was wedged into. "Alright enough fooling around, fire up the Exelbrocks, I think this should do it."

Lonny did as requested, and a slow murmur quickly rose into a steady whine as the tail drives of the fighter spun up for the first time since they'd started working through the craft's deficiencies.

Lt. Dutari's eyes slowly closed as the sound took him all the way back to his days at the Academy, so long ago on his homeworld. He hadn't paused for very long during his career with the New Republic to think about how much he missed home. Otsoa shook his headtail to clear those thoughts, and finished securing the compartment. A brief look at the chronometer told him there was hardly any point to checking into temporary quarters now, the briefing was mere hours away.

"Lonny, see if you can scrounge up some green paint from the maintenance area... Nose and tail ought to cover it." The droid bleeped an affirmative and rolled off towards the corner of the hangar while Otsoa tiredly climbed back into the cockpit. He was snoring by the time Lonny returned with the paint...

A klaxon caused Otsoa to leap from the pilots couch and strike his head against the canopy 3 hours later. He rubbed at the crown of his head as his wits slowly collected. It was a few groggy moments later before he processed Lonny's electronic laughter.

"Very funny. Caf, now."

The droid presented Otsoa with an already full mug as the Urmaellians boots hit the deck. "Much better. When I'm through with this briefing, we're replacing that ring-tone. If I hear it again I might have your vocoder replaced with a mouse droids..."

The R6 droid was still laughing as Otsoa left the hangar.

After a short stop in a ready room to freshen up, Lt. Dutari arrived at the ready room. A cloud of Cigar smoke preceded him through the hatchway and as he strode inside he took stock of those already in attendance... respectable turnout... He thought to himself.

He offered a small nod in Valeyn and Alak's direction, then slowly approached Commander Teller, allowing him to finish the discussion he was having. "Morning, Commander." He spoke around the cigar in his mouth.
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