Page 1 of 3 123 LastLast
Results 1 to 20 of 42

Thread: Raids, Rogues and Arithmatic

  1. #1

    Reb Raids, Rogues and Arithmatic

    This thread occurs several months after the events of Ride of the Valkyries, following Jaden Luka's promotion to Lieutenant and appointment as a Flight Leader in Valkyrie Squadron.


    Astral Queen - Dac (Mon Calamari)

    - - -

    Jaden blew out a low whistle. He'd seen a lot of things on his travels, but this was definately his first up-close look at shipyards. The massive array of spaceborne constructs encircled the entire planet, the massive hulks of Mon Calamari vessels looming white against the darker metals that cradled them. Consciously, he'd known that the Valiant was only a small example of what the amphibious species could produce, but it wasn't until he found himself in the shadow of some of the mighty MC80-series Star Cruisers that he truely realised the scales in question. Easing herself into a berth behind them, their home for the past several months was a mere child compared to these aquatic behemoths.

    "It isn't the size, it's how you use it, right?" Amos observed casually from the co-pilots seat.

    Hovering around the back of the cockpit, no doubt feeling awkward about not having anywhere to sit down, Major Vorega let out a grunt. Jaden didn't need to look to percieve the way her eyes rolled. "Men."

    Jaden couldn't help cracking a grin, finally managing to drag his eyes away from the spectacle outside and back to his navigation sensors. It felt good to be back here, gripped in the seat that had been worn until it was the epitomy of comfort over the last seven years. Much as he enjoyed zipping around dogfights in his A-Wing, it would never quite compare to the way he felt sitting behind the controls of his own ship. More so than when he'd revisited the planet he'd grown up on a few years back, sitting here in the Queen's cockpit felt like coming home.

    For the Valiant herself, this was a homecoming, although not such a plesant one. A few weeks ago the ship had fallen foul of an Imperial vessel that turned out to be slightly more formidable than she looked. The ship had sustained damage, and while Captain Tyree was content to make do with patch-up repairs until they were officially recalled to Alliance space, the Mon Calamari Engineer that insisted the engine room be kept uncomfortably warm had commanded that they head back to dock to have the damage repaired properly. You can imagine how well the Tyrant responded to that 'command', but he had eventually bowed to the Mon Cal's superior knowledge of his own race's technology, and here they were.

    On the plus side, having the ship out of action for a little while would guarentee that the crew got some much-needed downtime: Tyree took his job very seriously, and seemed somewhat unfamiliar with the concept of rest.

    "Orbital Control," Jaden called, flicking at various switches on the comms console, "This is Astral Queen. Awaiting instructions for final approach."

    The voice that responded, already distorted by the natural static of space radio and Alliance communications protocols, had the distinctive nasal tones of a Mon Calamari officer. "Approach instructions are being transmitted, Astral Queen. Welcome to the Daca System."

    Lights blinked and flashed, and the cockpit let out a plesant bleet. Navigational data scrolled across Jaden's screen; for no apparent reason, a wince crossed his face. Risking a glance over his shoulder, he repeated the gesture for Leela's benefit. "You might want to go and sit yourself down," he warned.

    The Major frowned, worry creeping into her voice. "Something wrong?"

    "Not really," Jaden replied, turning back to face forward again, a slight hint of a smile creeping onto his lips. "I've just been doing combat landings for a while. I'm not sure if I can remember how to set down properly anymore."

    Another grunt escaped from the Major, and without another word she disappeared aft, off to join the rest of Valkyrie and Dagger Squadrons, who Jaden had kindly agreed to ferry across to the station a couple of minutes early. Jaden cast another quick look over his shoulder, this time aimed at his co-pilot. Amos didn't look nearly so happy though; in fact, he seemed a little pale. "You were kidding, right?"

    * * *

    Ambling casually down the boarding ramp, Jaden stretched, and forced himself to take a deep breath of the humid air. Of course: Mon Calamari station, Mon Calamari environmental settings. Good job they wouldn't need to tolerate the temperature in uniform. Pulling open the front of his flight suit, and shrugging off the sleeves, Jaden tied the arms around his middle and clapped his hands together, the bare skin exposed already prickling at the wet heat. He clapped his hands and rubbed them together eagerly, just in time to notice the crowd of two-dozen pilots slowly begin to dissipate.

    "Where are you guys running off to?" Amos asked, having to half shout to reach the group that had already made it half-way to the exit.

    "Bar!" Leela answered, spinning on her heel and taking a few backwards paces, jerking a thumb over her shoulder towards the door for emphasis.

    For a moment, Amos and Jaden explained a few wordless glances. "Onward!" Jaden announced suddenly, and set off at a jog after the rest.

    Still standing on the ramp, Amos let out a sigh and shook his head, dreadlocks hanging loose over his shoulders. A beep behind him made him look back, and sigh again. "Great. I'm stuck with the dog." Trip threw what looked like a droid approximation of a confused look, and whistled something that his vocabulator didn't translate into basic. Amos had learned by now that phrases that the little droid chose not to translate were probably insults, and he'd given up on trying to understand them. "Come on boy," he called instead, and set off after the pilots.

  2. #2
    "Oh, for cryin' out loud, Perris... It's just a droid. Stop sulking, man. The kid was put up to it. He's new. Just trying to fit in. I'm sure you had your days when..."

    "Shut up, Neel. Just lemme enjoy my drink. The 'kid' is lucky there isn't a boxing ring nearby, or he would be shaking in his suit."

    Kelly was usually a very good guy. Squadron commander, a career pilot - you would be hard-pressed to find the man behind a desk, pushing paper beyond what was required for his men. But the discovery that his sister was in fact alive and well and...enjoying...a career with Imperial Intel instead of being part of the debris field that was once Alderaan - as he had finally accepted and come to terms with in the past eighteen months- topped by one of the newest additions to the squadron screwing around with his astromech, HIS droid, on a dare (pilots were sometimes known for their initiation antics), was enough to leave Commander Perris steaming a little. The fact that Yoree Neel was the one the kid was wingman to, and that Neel was defending the kid, wouldn't bode well for him.

    Well, it wouldn't have a few years ago. But things had changed. The wellbeing of Rogue Squadron came first. It was Kelly's dedication and skilled training of recruits (and their subsequent impressive survival rate) that had earned him the position he now held. The knowledge of enemy fighters and tactics he brought with him after six years as an Imperial pilot, had helped during the six years more or less, that he had now been with the Rebels, and Rogue Squadron itself. His eventual acceptance of the loss of his entire family (so he had believed) had enabled him to straigten up his life and focus. And he was a better man for it. Still, that didn't mean he had to like it when some other kid messed with his toys. Slice, his astromech droid, was going to be out of service for a bit. The prospect of flying with a droid he wasn't familiar with simply was not a pleasing prospect. There had been a time when something like this wouldn't bother him so much, but with age, most people can get set in their ways.

    "Alright, man. Be that way." Yoree raised his one empty hand, a show of defense, and settled in his chiar. "Just don't take it out on the new kid, alright? He joined this squadron because of you. What I would give to be that young again..."

    Kelly slouched back in his seat, ran a hand through his humidity-induced greasy hair, and took a gulp of his warm drink. Then let out a drawn-out sigh. He didn't care enough today to ask for anything specific. Just something soothing, not to mention alcoholic.
    Last edited by Kelly Perris; Jun 11th, 2008 at 02:22:46 PM.

  3. #3
    Jaden shuffled his way into the bar behind his fellow pilots, fondering how long it had actually been since he'd set foot inside a proper cantina. Not that this was exactly 'proper' mind you - with decor by the Mon Calamari, this place was something else. As a spacer, he'd visited his fair share of establishments on the words he wound up on, but he'd never been in a place like this. The painfully white walls that were common everywhere you looked in their architecture were thankfully muted, tinted by coloured lights that shone out of huge pillars of bubbling water. Inside, bright neon flashes twinkled as examples of Dac's native fauna swam around, their multicoloured reflective scales creating an awesome specacle. And as if the pillars of fish weren't enough, a huge orb of water hung in mid air, the centerpiece to the entire establishment, still more aquatic creatures drifting around seemingly oblivious of their unorthadox situation.

    The room was packed, mostly with ground crew and technicians from the shipyards, although the odd SpecForce grunt could be seen trying to win over the unclaimed women with tales of their combat exploits, and from a few booths around the perimeter the tell-tale raucous of partying pilots spilled out into the cantina's ambient noise. A few lone fleet officers sat solo at the bar, casting the odd disapproving noise towards the hellraiser jocks of the Starfighter Corps. Most were probably absent though: a somewhat more civilised Officers club was available a few decks up where most of the Navy Officers ended up, but fighter pilots tended to prefer the slightly more ruff-around-the-edges company of the patrons of this kind of place.

    Jaden found himself ushered to the front of the crowd: during the Valiant's last engagement Jaden had vaped his fifth TIE, earning him the coveted status of Ace, and apparently the privilage of buying the first round. He supposed it was only fair: because the Rebellion didn't actually pay the galactic standard wage, naval vessels offered a free bar, but establishments like this still needed to turn a profit. As a relative newcomer to the resistance, Jaden hadn't had the opportunity to squander the earnings from his life as a trader just yet, although from the sound of what his comrades were ordering, he'd be in the same boat before too long.

    The double dozen from the Valiant managed to appropriate a booth for themselves, anmd spirits were soaring: both the metaphysical and alcoholic varieties. Amos seemed to have disappeared, and come to think of it Jaden hadn't seen him since the first round, but the Sergeant could take care of himself. He'd probably managed to find someone with a Wookiee fetish, and was off getting a good bunking. He'd have to try and remember to provide advanced warning of his arrival back at the ship - the last time he'd accidentally wandered in on Amos it had left some deep mental scars that had taken copious quantities of alcohol to erase. Drunken singing would probably do the trick, and from the way things were going already, that would be an inevitablility anyhow.

    One of Jaden's pilots returned to the table, arms laiden with the next set of drinks. His new status as a Lieutenant and a Flight Leader had come with a few perks, the most useful of which had been the ability to delegate fetching and carrying responsibilities. Apparently 'Lieutenant' beats 'new guy' in the grand scheme of things.

    "See those guys over there, two booths over?" the pilot asked, carefully setting out the various bottles and beverages on the table, flicking a brain tail in the relevant direction as he did so. "Caught a glimpse of a flight jacket. Looks like the Rogues?"

    Jaden's eyes widened in surprise. "As in, Rogue Squadron? The Rebel elite?"

    Leela snorted into her drink, necking another throatful. "They ain't so tough," she countered, voice a little louder than perhaps she realised. "Bunch of useless cross-jocks, if you ask me."

    The Leader of Dagger Squadron shuffled a little uncomfortably in his seat. "I think you've had a little too much of that," he muttered, reaching for the bottle, but Leela manoeuvered it away just in time.

    Unfortunately, the B-Wing pilot's assessment was accurate, and the Major was far from done. "I'm surprised you guys made it here alright!" she shouted to them directly, voice growing louder still. "Did you have to get nav coordinates from your Astro Droids before you came?"

  4. #4
    Snapping out of the dull state he had been sitting in, Kelly shot up out of his seat, hammering the offending party with a steely look. Major Vorega...THAT figured. All six-foot-nothing of him, bare, muscular arms and a wifebeater, down to the 'suit arms tied around his waist, and continuing down to the legs was tensed. The boots stuck to the floor, and his hand was poised to crush the glass he had been nursing, until the smaller hand of his comrade clapped him on the shoulder, only distracting him in the very slightest.

    "Whoa boy. You know that Leela..." Yoree's voice was calm. He wasn't one for fighting much, but had still been involved in his share. "...she gets into it when she's had too much."

    Perris' replying words were short, cut, and hard.

    "Get. Your. Hands. Offa. Me." He glared back at his companion, his words a low growl. "Or you'll be next."

    Those words were enough to have Yoree Neel back off, wiping the now sweat-dampened hand on his own flightsuit. The memory of a broken nose, cheekbone, and subsequent facial restructuring, issued by Perris himself in an otherwise friendly boxing match, was discomforting enough for the pilot to yield. His counter to the scathing words of Leela Vorega was loud enough to be quite well heard.

    "That may be, but I could still kick your sorry behind regardless of the fighter I'm strapped into, droid or no droid, Vorega. You and your friends at that table know it. The only skills you got that might out-shine mine have to do with that pretty lil' face of yours and the body attached to it."

    Kelly finished off his beverage, and set down his glass with a loud CLANK on the nearby table.

    "What surprises ME is how you make it through each day alive and still retain your dignity."
    Last edited by Kelly Perris; Jun 11th, 2008 at 05:13:41 PM.

  5. #5
    The grin on Leela's face drained away in the instant it took her to rise to her feet. Casually she snaked her body, flexing the muscles in her shoulders in preparation for a good bout of impact cosmetic surgery. Beneath her toned curves was someone who had learned the hard way how to look after herself.

    The smile that graced her features now wasn't the same one that had been there before. Instead of the genuine, fun-loving expression that she usually sported she seemed predatory, eerily threatening. Her face moved closer to the Rogue pilot's, voice teasing as she spoke. "I still have my dignity, Commander," she replied, emphasising the pilot's junior rank, "It's because I know that my squadron earned its reputation, rather than just inheriting it from a bunch of real heroes."

    "Lee," Jaden warned gently, trying to insert himself between the duo subtly, but with little success. The last thing he wanted was to spend his downtime nursing a string of injuries. "I think you need to sit back down, boss."

    Leela's hand pushed him backwards slowly, extending a warning finger as he took the hint to back off. "Not now, Nine." Her eyes narrowed at Kelly, who's face they'd not left. "How does it feel, knowing that none of your pilots actually deserve all the hype that goes along with their name?"
    Last edited by Jaden Luka; Jun 22nd, 2008 at 06:28:41 AM.

  6. #6
    He stepped forward, jabbing one finger in her face...

    "You...just never quit."

    ...then pulled his whole left hand down to take a hearty fistful of her top, pulling her nice and close, nose to nose.

    "My 'inheritance' is name only, you good-for-nothing hutt lube."

    One hand remained poised on his right hip. The left released Leela, then rubbed on his left cheek, scruffed with a little more than a five o'clock shadow, then scratched behind his ear. This woman continually frustrated him, at every turn. Maybe she was jealous? Yeah, that's it. At any rate, he was holding most of it in, resisting the urge to let loose on her.

    "My men earn the right to be called Rogues, Major." This last word he almost spat with disgust. "I've trained those pilots myself, not to mention a good number of those on non x-wing squadrons, yours included. Your men may have hard-earned reputations, but mine work just as hard keeping up and filling the shoes our name leaves us to fill. You don't have to deal with the expectations. You're lucky that way."

    He then crossed his arms, and stared down on her, quite glaringly.

    "You're also lucky that I don't beat up girls." A thoughtful look caught on his face, and he tapped his chin a moment, looking to Yoree, cracking a shortlived half-grin, before turning his head back and re-crossing his arms. He was, for the most part, above taking a fist to his superiors...outside of recreational pursuits, in any case. "Excuses for what might pass as female, on the other hand..."

    He looked to her again, deadpanned. "..Nah. You're not even worth that exception."

    Kelly didn't want to give her what she was after. That was a torture worse than the healing after any physical damage he could potentially deal.

  7. #7
    Without another thought, Leela popped a fist directly into Kelly's face. The motion was so fast, even Jaden hadn't expected it, and he'd been standing poised ready to react should anything happen.

    "How about we make this easy?" she called, as the Commander staggered back a few paces clutching his nose. She balled her fist into her palm and cracked the knuckles audibly. "One: I have nothing against you personally: just your squadron. So lets stick to professional criticisms here, and not make it personal." She flashed him a smile, and lowered her voice. "Two: if you're two scared of having your backside handed to you, then leave like the coward you are instead of hiding behind petty name-calling."

    Her eyes narrowed. "Insult me for being a woman again, and I'll take a knife to what makes you different."

    Jaden could see the Commander seething; things were going very wrong, very quickly. "Listen," he tried, holding his arms out defensively, trying his best to calm themselves down. The other patrons in the bar had formed a tight circle against the two Squadrons: if they'd attracted this much attention already, Security would be here before long. Much as he didn't want to spend the night in a cell, if he could stall things for long enough he'd at least avoid waking up in the med bay.

    Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain. Kelly swung, a hook that would have probably taken Leela's jaw off its sockets had it connected. Leela managed to duck aside just in time, but the swing wasn't entirely wasted. Missing its intended target, Kelly's arm followed through, and connected squarely with the side of Jaden's face.

    There was a hushed silence; Jaden shook his head, slightly stunned. His vision was slightly blurred, but he managed to clear it, although everything had taken on a decidedly red hue. He worked his jaw, already becoming sore. That'd ache like hell in the morning. All eyes were on him, waiting to see how he'd react. Grabbing his glass from the table beside him, he drained the remains and set it back down hard. "Sit down, Daggers," he instructed to the B-Wing pilots. "These guys can't even hit the target they're aiming for: no way they'll be able to handle all of us."
    Last edited by Jaden Luka; Jun 15th, 2008 at 03:00:50 PM.

  8. #8
    His fist connected, and he'd stumbled forward a few steps after it followed through, then sort-of huddled over, his hands on his knees, his bloodied nose dripping on the floor. Breathing heavy, in and out, feeling a little fuzzy, and starting to think about just what the hell was going on. He reached one hand up, pinching gently at his nose with his thumb and forefinger. It would definitely be sore and sensitive in the morning, but at least it wasn't broken....from what he could tell, anyway. A little blood never hurt anybody. Turning his head slightly from the hunched over position he stood in, he looked at the rest of the pilots. Leela, Jaden...

    Aw, hells.

    ...
    that boy looked decidedly sore in the face. While Kelly's face had taken on a sheepish look at the realization that he'd missed his target, deeper down he was glad he didn't hit Vorega. And why was he reacting this way, anyhow? Oh, right. Slice, his astromech. And his sister. Damn it. Standing up to his full height, the Commander wiped his nose on his flightsuit sleeve, which had become a little untied from around his waist, and eyed Jaden, then Leela, then the rest of the men, who had been quite ready to participate, but had been called off by Luka. Yoree stood behind his commander, and had one hand on the man's shoulder, speaking in a hushed tone.

    "Perris, you might want to consider thinking about what you do or say next before this gets worse."

    Kelly nodded, looking back at his friend. Apparently Yoree Neel wasn't taking this as a sign that he was being listened to.

    "You're being an jackass, man. You're not even in the right frame of mind to deal with meaningless banter."

    "I hear ya, I get it." Kelly breathed, sounding exasperated as he re-tied the flightsuit around his waist.

    "And he's right.." The commander admitted, nodding his head to Jaden Luka. "...no way we could take all of them on outside of the cockpit."

    Stepping forward, he approached the aforementioned man. The closer he got, the more the other pilots inched in, ready for any fist that might fly. Leela stepped forward too. She probably wasn't done yet.

    "Uh..I'm sorry about the..mm...hit." The whole time, his eyes were shifting back and forth between Jaden and Leela, before settling on Leela.

    "This isn't the way things normally go around here. I'm really not in the business of roughing women up."

  9. #9
    "Might wanna get your targetting scanners checked," Jaden grunted, hand rubbing across a stubbled cheek. Eyes scanning the table, he grabbed the still-cold glass he'd abandoned earlier, and pressed it gingerly against his jaw. "You got a good swing, though."

    Major Vorega didn't seem nearly so impressed, unfortunately. Her hands were twitching into fists as she spoke; Jaden could tell from her eyes that she was spoiling for a fight, and wasn't ready to back down just yet. "Come on, Luke," just because you've got your own Flight now doesn't get you off the hook that easily. Where's my wingman?"

    "Calm it down, Lee," he said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. The muscles were bunched, tense, ready to strike. "Everyone's had a few drinks, emotions are running high; I don't know about you, but personally I'd like to see something other than the inside of a med bay and a detention cell during 'leave."

    Leela wasn't hearing anything. Her arm snapped out; out of reflex, Jaden recoiled a few paces, not wanting to get hit in the face again. Vorega advanced, a snarl on her lips. "Come on, Commander," she taunted, hands shoving Kelly hard in the chest. "I thought you Rogues never backed down from a fight." Another shove drove Kelly further towards the edge of the makeshift ring that the crowd had formed; her eyes were bright, her lips curled in an aggressive smile. "Just you and me. Lets go."

    Suddenly, Vorega spasmed, blue energy washing across her. Her muscles locked then relaxed within an instant, and her body tumbled to the floor. Jaden shrugged, returning his Scout-issue blaster to the holster on his hip. "She's just stunned," he reassured, interpreting the strange look that Kelly threw at him. "With all the alcohol in her system, she'll be out for hours." He hesitated. "Maybe she'll be less cranky when she wakes up," he mused.

    Robbed of their opportunity to watch two ranking pilots beating the Sith out of each other, the crowd slowly dispursed, wandering back towards their drinks. In the distance, the music began to play again, and eventually the cantina returned to normality. "Lets get her to a bunk," Jaden called to the pilots behind him with a sigh. "She's gonna hate me in the morning."

  10. #10
    "She's gonna hate me in the morning."

    A bemused smirk crossed Kelly's face. He pulled at the bottom of his nose with his fingers, clearing away some of the crusted remains of blood, and watched the younger pilots as they picked up their leader and began to shuffle out of the cantina.

    "She might...If she remembers much." He stifled a chuckle. "See you kids later."

    With the establishment returning to normal, the thirtysomething commander lifted his right arm, glancing at the chrono he often forgot he was wearing and not really taking note of just what time it was. He then looked at Yoree, who was looking rather amused.

    "What??"

    "Nothing." He very nearly snorted, waving Perris off. "It's nothing." He started laughing.

    Kelly stared at his comrade, then shook his head. Again, he looked at the chrono and this time he swore, smacking that hand to his head. Yup, he'd definitely have a bit of a hangover in the A.M.

    "Ouch. Buddy, I gotta get. Sleep and get the hangover over with. Y'know...probably gonna be dealing with an angry female rancor in the morning, unless she thinks better of it."

    "Oh, I KNOW." The idiot was still laughing.

    "Can it, Neel. See ya later."
    Last edited by Kelly Perris; Jun 18th, 2008 at 01:15:17 PM.

  11. #11
    The Morning After - Dac (Mon Calamari)

    - - -

    With a grunt, and a mournful groan of reluctance, Major Vorega flailed herself into consciousness, arms batting at the bedsheets that had tangled themselves around her body. Her head was aching, and her mouth was dry. She could feel the veins throbbing at her temples. Her legs felt numb and heavy, as if they weren't entirely there. Her stomach felt a little queezy, but not enough to throw up. The room felt a little unstable too, like someone had snuck in and decreased the strength of the grav plating while she was asleep. Her memory was a little fuzzy, but a quick, bleary-eyed scan of the room revealed that she was in her own quarters, and was alone. Given the people she remembered being in the bar last night, that was probably a good thing.

    Her head felt like a thermal detonator had just gone off inside it. She frowned, which was painful. Had she already thought about the headache? She couldn't be sure, so decided to dedicate some of her attention to feeling sorry for herself about it again. She usually didn't allow herself to get like this while aboard-ship, but downtime was another matter. A flash of memory appeared in her mind. Did someone shoot her?

    Risking a tentative glance beneath the covers, she allowed herself a brief sigh of relief as she discovered her clothes still in place. One of the privilages of rank was a private room, but if she didn't remember having come back to her quarters last night, she definately wasn't in any kind of condition to undress herself. The fact that one of her squadron mates hadn't taken the liberty of doing it for her was a small mercy, although given the uncomfortable way that they had twisted during the night, a small part of her wished they had.

    Fighting with the covers that had wrapped themselves tightly round her body, she discovered herself in the midst of a slight dilemma. Her restless, post-alcohol sleep pattern had coiled the various bedsheets around her, and at some point she had rolled over, trapping them underneath her body. One arm was free to move, but the other was pinned, and her legs were completely immobile. What was required was an unprecedented feet of athleticism given the hour and her condition, to liberate her limbs and free her to go and dunk her head in a large pail of water. Unfortunately, she had just realised what the incessant beeping echoing around the room meant.

    Summoning up what little strength her muscles still contained, she threw her body back into the matress, the springs propelling her upwards away from the bed. A few repeats had her gaining an impressive ammount of altitide given the situation: enough to whip her second arm free. Unfortunately, she'd been a little overzealous with the whipping, and threw her body across to one side, tumbling with her legs still knotted in the duvet, and landing with a thud on the floor.

    A groan escaped her as she peeled her cheek off the pleasantly cold durasteel floor, and crawled her way across to the computer terminal in the corner of the room. Her eyes struggled to focus as they scanned across the aurebesh text that scrolled across the screen. Her brow furrowed, deeply confused. Mission briefing?

    * * *

    Looking decidedly less ruffled, Leela stepped out into the slightly chilled corridor. Unfortunately, her appearence belied the way she felt underneath, and her eyes had been protesting violently to the bright lights and white walls. A pair of tinted glasses had been necessary to satiate them. Pilots and technicians wandered past, several of them exchanging muttered words that were annoyingly loud to Leela's sensitive ears. She winced. Now she knew how Tiet felt when things got a little out of hand in the rec room - the Sullustan's sensitive ears were probably assaulted like this all the time. He claimed that you got used to it eventually, but that Leela hoped to be feeling better a long time before that happened.

    Rounding a corner in the unmarked maze of tunnels that the Mon Calamari had constructed, she happened upon a few other members of her Squadron. She allowed herself a slight smile of satisfaction as she noticed that Jaden too had been forced to don a pair of tinted glasses.

    "Good morning, boss," Jaden greeted, his voice annoyingly pleasant, and lacking in all the tell-tale signs of of hangover. Maybe he was feeling alright after all, and the glasses were just a fashion statement. That was definately a blow to Leela's good mood.

    "You shot me," Leela fired back in response, falling into step beside her pilots.

    Jaden squirmed a little, which completely restored the Major's good mood from a few moments before. "Sorry," he muttered, sheepishly.

    The crowd proceeded in loose formation, gathering the rest of their number as they drew closer to the edge of the Habitat zone. If all was going to plan, they would find themselves in the Operations zone shortly, although given the way Vorega was feeling, they were probably more likely to find themselves in a cargo bay than a briefing room. Still, she didn't really care if she kept the other officers waiting: it would serve them right for waking her up so damned early.

    Lieutenant Viego seemed busy trying to wrestle with his conscience; falling into position on her wing, he tried his best to strike up a conversation. "How are you feeling?" he asked, the concern in his voice sounding genuine.

    "You shot me," Leela said again, sliding a little more annoyance into her tone this time.

    Jaden held his hands up defensively. "I said I was sorry!" he muttered, defensively.

    Leela had to concede that point, and her brain reminded her that she wasn't really in the right condition to start holding a grudge just now. "I have a 4-alarm hangover," she explained, peering discreetly at a sign as they passed, "Either from the whiskey, or your laser beam." She hesitated, considering that thought. "Or both."

    "How many times..."

    Leela held up a hand to stop him. "Downtime is cancelled and we're back on the clock, so you're off the hook for now," she reassured, coming to a stop outside Briefing Room #4. Her eyes narrowed and her tone changed, mock threat creeping into her words. "But rest assured, Lieutenant, you haven't heard the last of this."

    Hand thumping at the door control, Leela only just managed to turn away before a smirk broke on her face. She could imagine the expression on Jaden's face, and that made her smile grow broader. He was a smart kid, but sometimes he was just too easy.

  12. #12
    Day had dawned, and with one hand curled up almost into his drooling mouth, he looked every bit the angel - if he were a vegetable. That very hand would, within moments, find itself on the forehead, rubbing the eyes...Yup, his nose sure felt outta place. Not broken, but messed with at least. That feeling, however, didn't override the thunder in the rest of his head or the slight dryness in his mouth. Overall, there was a feeling of slick dirtiness that had crawled under his naked torso, under the pant legs of his flight suit and into the roughly treaded boots on his feet. He'd fallen asleep in his boots. The soaked-in-sweat feeling was one that Kelly least enjoyed on his feet. The relatively hung-over pilot groaned and flopped from side to back, slinging an arm over his eyes and scratching over his chest with the other hand.

    All the memory of what had occurred the night that preceded the hangover, including all that was said filtered its way through the fuzz and pound in his skull. Laying there, mulling it over, he didn’t even like some of the things he’d said. He knew Leela had her contorted reasons for picking on him – whatever they were – but the junior officer’s act of taking it out on not only a woman but a superior in rank didn’t jive with his usual sense of morality, which was of better standing than it used to be even just a year previous. The vague guilt only added to the dry, unpleasant taste in his mouth.

    That low *bleep* every few seconds didn't seem to help matters much, either.

    "For the love of all that is good..." He moaned through wiping the drool from his mouth, then scratching at the drool-stain at the right corner of his mouth, while making an attempt to sit himself up. "...I'm awake, gods, I'm awake..."

    The seasoned pilot attempted to stand, and then thought again of it. Staying in bunk all day was a heavenly thought he'd not have the chance of taking to. Furthermore, the pleasure of company in the sheets on such an unlikely occurrence of a morning was the more mythical thought that would probably not come to pass anytime soon. Kelly wasn’t undesirable by most any means; He was just a known workaholic and seemed to prefer to keep to himself most of the time. The sight of him in the cantina was a surprising occurrence to those that were enlightened of his habits.

    "...dun wanna be awake. Gotta be awake." He shook his head, then thrust himself to his feet -managing to remain balanced- and held his arms out to both sides in a stretch that was one of the small things this morning that felt nice. Then he ambled over to the terminal in his quarters to kill that which was bleeping, leaning heavily on the desk to see what who wanted, and what it would require.

    "Mission briefing? Ugh. Need a shower."

    * * *

    Having cleaned up, shaven and now appearing outwardly refreshed, Perris made his way out from his quarters and then proceeded down the corridor outside his abode, turning into another, and continued through what his brain would have normally considered rather unconfusing and not very maze-like, until he came across Tera Uolmi, a dark haired and fairly decent looking younger woman from Kessel. She was also one of his pilots. The look on her face turned into something of sympathy when she saw her squadron commander.

    "Heard about last night, Kel." She shook her head, and shot him a brief and bemused look. "I understand where that all came from, and I know you and Vorega are always nipping at each other's heels, but..."

    Kelly rubbed at his eyes with the tips of his fingers, clearing away the sleep-dust that was still present. "I know, Tera. Some of what I said was uncalled for, and..."

    She laughed, ribbing him a little, which caused him to grimace. "No, no. I think she likes you."

    Seeming somewhere between apalled at the suggestion and curiously amused, Perris grunted a reply. "If that beast had any interest in me, that would be none of your business, Uolmi."

    She cut the laughter, but a twinkle of mirth was still present in her eyes.

    "Yessir. Sorry." She said quietly.

    "I believe you."

    It was only a moment or two later, rounding a corner, that they came to join the subject of their discussion and a grouping of those under her command, just as she gave the door control a pound to gain entry to the briefing room. He caught the end of what sounded like a threat to the kid he'd accidentally whomped one on last night.

    "Morning, Major. How's the head?" There was a faint smirk to his improving tone and demeanor.

  13. #13
    Henry McDonnaught
    Guest
    Donut had been awaiting the grand entrance. Seated, or rather, slouching in a chair to the left of the briefing room, and was feeling rather smug with himself. Last night he'd taken what came to about two weeks pay from bunch of Valkyrie upstarts who thought they knew poker. Like candy from the baby. His crooked smile had been pasted on all morning. And then the topper, he'd heard that Perris had been clocked by a girl. And not just any girl, Vorega. Ah, it was priceless. Sometimes, the gods just smiled on a man.

    The smile turned a little nervous though when the pugilist parties all came in together like one big happy family. Maybe he'd heard wrong. Well, that couldn't be right. Henry sat up to get a better view and all his fears were allayed - Perris was sporting a bumpy nose, and Donut knew the man well enough to see he was nursing a hangover. Donut slouched back down and the smile returned.

    Yep, Donut, beloved of the gods.

  14. #14
    "Head's fine," Leela responded casually, with an annoyingly peasant smile as she drifted past, leading the way through the door. "Hand hurts a little though. How's the nose?"

    Jaden fought back a snort as the cluster of Valkyries shuffled their way around the arcs of chairs that part-encircled the briefing room. Not surprisingly, Rogue Squadron had formed an exclusive little clique and had claimed the western half of the seating space as their territory, spreading out to occupy as much space as possible. That squashed Valkyrie and Dagger Squadrons into the eastern half, but that wasn't really a problem: lacking the rectally-inserted Astromech droid that the Rogues seemed to posess, the A-Wing and B-Wing jocks found there eyes much closer to the deck, and thus didn't have the constant problem of looking down on everyone.

    Settling down into one of the surprisingly comfortable seats, Jaden patted Oolan Valx'ir on the arm. Oolan flew as Valkyrie Ten: Jaden's default pair. However, the Verpine apparently posessed no distinct genders, and while Oolan had adopted male pronouns to ease interactions with other sentient species, the term "wingman" didn't seem appropriate, somehow. Jaden had settled on "wingthing", which the Verpine seemed to prefer.

    "Morning, Oolan," Jaden greeted warmly, remembering to exaggerate the plesant tones in his voice to convey them properly to the Verpine. Oolan had previously explained that most of his species communicated via a form of radio telepathy: they could recieve and transmit radio waves from their antenna, and could convey much more information than other forms of communication would allow. Speech and body language were often difficult for the Verpine to comprehend, although when it came to the subtleties of movement, their incredible eyesight set them in good stead, once they knew how to interpret what they were seeing.

    Oolan chittered something in the verbal language that his species had developed to communicate both with outsiders and those whose radio abilities were damaged. A moment later, the vocabulator unit hung around the insectoid's shoulders clicked into life, offering a translation. "It is pleasant to see you this morning, Jaden. Would I be right in the assumption that, given your selection of a second pair of eyes, you are suffering from the after-effects of the overconsuption of alcohol?"

    Jaden stared blankly at the Verpine for a moment. The vocabulator device was rather literal in its translation of Oolan's statements, and with their language required much less often there were certain simplified words and phrases common in Galactic Basic that the Verpine language lacked. At times like this, when he was having enough trouble concentrating on the simple things like not falling over, Oolan's word-heavy messages could be a little confusing.

    "He wants to know if you have a hang-over," Leela offered helpfully, making sure to position herself at exactly the right distance from Jaden's ear to cause the maximum discomfort when she spoke.

    Jaden shot her a brief scowl, carefully rearranging his features before turning back to his wingthing. "Just a little tired," he reassured, although the throbbing sensation at his temples begged to differ. From the slight twitch of the Verpine's head, Jaden assumed he'd spotted the microscopic fluctuations in his expression that belied his statement, but to his credit Oolan said nothing. At least he's finally learned about tact, Jaden thought to himself, remembering how Oolan had managed to offend all the female pilots and half the female deck crew during his first day aboard the Valiant by offering constructive criticisms about their appearence.

    Minutes ticked by as the last of the pilots slowly filed in. Conversations pulled the ambient noise up to an uncomfortable level; Jaden adopted a covert massage pose, propping his face up on one hand while his fingers discreetly drew circles around his temples, much to the intregue of Oolan. Eventually however, his brain managed to formulate something loosely resembling a fully-formed thought, and his brows tugged down into a frown.

    "The Valiant is in drydock," he observed, turning his attention towards Leela who had stripped off her flight jacket and draped it over her head to shut out the light and noise. "Why are we here?"

    Peeling the jacket slowly away, Leela fixed Jaden with a glare that even the dark lenses of her glasses couldn't soften. "I've been right here the whole time," she said softly, a definate edge in her voice. "Why do you think I have more information?"

    Jaden's eyebrows twitched, ready to conceed the point, but Oolan's vocabulator chimed in with a helpful comment. "As a Senior Officer, you are often privvy to additional data that is not dispursed to the remainder of the Squadron. It is not illogical to assume that you might thus hold surplus information in this situation."

    Leela's expression shifted worldessly to Oolan for a few moments, before her eyelids slumped and she buried her head back beneath her flight jacket. Jaden looped his arm around Oolan's shoulders, and offered him a friendly smile. "Remind me to explain later what a rhetorical question is."

  15. #15
    Kaid Jisari
    Guest
    The station was a maze. Not to mention insane. How was he ever supposed to find his way to the briefing room when he just got here and had no idea where anything was? Kaid sighs softly and looks around. Spotting someone who, judging by their overalls, was a mechanic, he jogs over to them.

    "Excuse me? Sir?" he asks, getting the mechanic's attention. "I'm trying to find Briefing Room 141-A."

    The mechanic looks Kaid up and down, taking in the odd appearance. The thing that stood out the most was the ski mask and sunglasses. You literally could not see a bit of his face. Next to be noticed was the flight jacket with the patches of a Corsair Squadron pilot--a local militia unit that had never seen too much action until recently. All this added up to one thing. Pilot. The mechanic barks a laugh. "You're callin me sir? Wow this is a first." Pleased by the politeness, he points to the nearest lift. "Take that down four levels, and across two subsections. The briefing room should be the first left after that son."

    Nodding in thanks, he sprints to the lift, hauling his rucksack with him, praying he wouldn't be late. He found the room easy enough, and slapped the door activation panel. As the door slid open, he looked around, noticing what seemed to be two distinct groups of people. Raising an eyebrow--a move made useless by the mask and mirrored sunglasses--he glances between the two groups.

    "I'm looking for Rogue Squadron," he says, his voice loud and clear. "Please tell me I found the right room."

  16. #16
    Opposite of many of the heads that turned to see who was standing in the entranceway - along with the various comments directed at the newcomer from the rivaling squadrons in the other half of the room - the commander's head just lurched slowly backward in an attempt to spot the offending invidual. When he discovered that motion alone wasn't quite enough, he arched his back, which in effect lifted his behind out of the seat he was occupying. The upside-down-ness of it all was not favourable to the still present thumping in his skull, but the view told him what he needed to know, without having to resort to actually standing on his own two feet or uncrossing his arms - a portion of his stance that conveyed perfectly his slight grumpiness. Though his mood had lightened a little with the banter around him, the haze he was in still killed it to leave him sour enough. His aside to Donut, who had followed them in and taken up a seat, could not be heard outside of those on either side of him due to the roar of idle insult and what could conceivably pass for conversation in the room.

    "He looks ready to ship out with the grunts." and appended to that comment, Perris raised his voice to address the unfamiliar individual. "Who's askin'?"

    The individual went to open his mouth and reply, but Perris shot down any further words beyond the first squeak before they escaped. "Shaddup, kid. Get yer green behind in 'ere and take a seat before someone mistakes you for a problem."

    He flipped his head back to sort-of look at the newbie again, and spit further grumblings in that direction.

    "And take that damned mask off. This isn't Hoth."

  17. #17
    Kaid Jisari
    Guest
    "Yessir." Kaid says, quickly shuffling over and vaulting over the first row of seats, landing softly in the next row down. He hears the comment about the mask, and shrugs, pulling off the glasses and the mask, revealing reddish-brown hair worn at the maximum regulations would allow, as well as bright green eyes. He smiles and nods to Kelly, unsure what to do exactly. "Sorry, sir." was all the response he could muster. He looks around, noticing, as if for the first time that there seemed to be some tension between the two groups in the room. He sat silently and listened to some of the idle conversation hoping to find out why that was exactly.

  18. #18
    Jaden Luka let out a low growl, dripping the credit chits into Leela's palm. "Skrag it," he muttered, brow furrowed into a frown. "The odds on 'horribly disfigured' were really good." He hesitated for a moment, before allowing the last few coins to drop from his fingers. "You know, he only took off his mask. Maybe the injuries are hidden..." His voice trailed off, and his eyes settled expectantly on Leela.

    "No," she cut him off, before he even had a chance to finish his thought. "No kriffing way."

    "Just a quick recon..." Luka tried.

    Leela's eyes flashed into a glare. "If you wanna find out what scars he's hiding under that jumpsuit, you go sleep with him." The tone in her voice forstalled any follow-up comment from the Lieutenant. Slightly more worrying perhaps was the fact that Jaden's expression didn't immediately shift to one of complete oppostion. Dear gods, she realised, viewing him in a completely new light. Is this guy really that desperate to hang on to his money?

    From the seat behind them, the Squadron's XO - Captain Ran Holdem - sniggered. Lee and Luka turned in sync, opposite eyebrows raising in perfect time with each other, prompting a snorted and failed attempt to hold back another laugh. "Something funny?" Leela asked, a slight edge in her voice that erroded the Captain's smile ever so slightly.

    "I didn't realise that we were allowed to try and set you up, boss."

    Leela unleashed a short, mocking, and extremely faked laugh. "Oh Captain," she muttered, shifting around to face forward in her seat again. "My sides. You slay me." She shook her head, adjusting her tone to one ever so slightly louder than quiet conversation, to make sure Holdem could hear every word. "He should save jokes like that for those ground pounder women he was trying to pick up last night."

    Jaden's eyes widened, ever so slightly. "Those were women?"

  19. #19
    Henry McDonnaught
    Guest
    Henry twisted around and stuck his hand out to Kaid in greeting, "Im Henry McDonnaught, welcome to where all the cool kids play. And dont worry 'bout the boss givin ya static about ya mask there kid, he'll probably ask to borrow it later -- got hit in the nose by a girl last night" He explained a little louder than was necessary, his grin broadening before twisting back round again.

  20. #20
    Kaid Jisari
    Guest
    Kaid can't help but smile as he offers his hand. "Kaid Jisari. It's good to meet you. So if we're the cool kids, then who are the ones on the other side glaring lasers at us?" he chuckles a bit. "And as for the mask...it's just a habit wearing it. My last C/O didn't like it either. also didn't like it when my reasons for wearing it were just that I was too damn pretty either..."

Page 1 of 3 123 LastLast

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •