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.