Illusion Squadron: "0800"

Garnin Jinn's lightsaber deflected a blaster's shot at him. He was in the Spider Webb, an underground cantina with Talon Ski. (hope U don't mind, TSL). They had a few drinks together, and someone had gotten a little bit crazy and started shooting. Both lieutenants left the Spider Webb.
Jinn's comlink beeped. "Jinn," Captain Justin Celchu said. "You and Ski are to meet me and lead ay 0800 hours."
"Understood, sir," Jinn said.
"What was that about," Talon Ski asked.
"Hood wants us in his quarters at 0800 hours. We better leave soon," Jinn explaned
***

 

Justin let the door shut quietly behind him before he pulled out his comlink and sent a quick message to Garnin. Without waiting for an answer he yanked his thin jacket on and strode down the darkened hallway towards the nearest lift. It was late; the Coruscantian work day long since over. The corridor was deserted, the adjoining offices empty, and the only sound to echo down the hallways was that of a distant whistling astromech.

He pushed the call button and the lift responded immediately; the doors swiftly sliding open to reveal the intensely lit platform beyond. Justin shaded away and let his eyes adjust before stepping past the doors and punching in the command for his level. The lift pinged in joyful acquiescence and a protocol droidish voice exclaimed how happy it was to be of service before it shut the doors and initiated its descent.

He jammed his hands into his pockets and pulled out a well-worn datapad, identical to his commander's. Actually, it was his commander's; an exact replica, data and all, of the one Wedge's aide had delivered that morning. He'd grabbed it off of Rob's desk and dumped all the pilots' profiles into it the second his commander started going off on Coruscant. Justin smirked and shook his head. Despite anything he said otherwise, Rob wouldn't go over the roster any more tonight. He'd probably pour another cup of caf, drink half of it, and then go home and sleep. Or he'd sleep in his office; either way, he wouldn't do anymore work on the squadron that night.

So he'd took the liberty of doing it himself. He'd look it over, clear the information, and return the empty datapad to Rob's desk tomorrow, no harm done.

He whistled past the first couple screens, tapping his foot to the music the lift had been so thoughtful to turn on for his listening enjoyment. It was the usual intros, security warnings, "make no unauthorized copies" stuff. He'd read it all before. Then came Rob's profile, then his, and then he stopped. This was what he was looking for: the official roster of pilots for the newly commissioned Illusion Squadron.

The first pilot's profile sprung up. He smiled. Ah, yes. Their only rookie. She'd get a lot of flak about that. Rookies always did. He quickly skimmed her stats: Name: Cale "Proton" Orick, Origin: Corellia, Age: 19? He skipped the rest, he could read it later. Right then he was more interested in the pilot's backgrounds than anything else. First came her training records: "Top quartile of class?flight certified in X-Wing only?"

Blah, blah, blah, Justin thought. Whoever writes these things ought to take a writing course or something; make it more exciting for us simple-minded fighter jocks. There was an addendum added on from her old commander citing her unusual nickname came from a "small" mishap that almost caused two of her proton torpedoes to "land" in the squadron's hanger. He laughed despite himself. That would thrill Rob he was sure; a junior pilot who had bad luck with particle scattering warheads. Wonderful. The rest of her profile came from NRI. It was short and to the point, basically stating they were unable to come up with anything about her before the day she turned up on their doorstep, announcing she had information devastating to the Corellian Black Sun if delivered into the proper hands. Justin frowned. That part made him a little nervous. 18 years unaccounted for and she had extensive information on a dangerous organized crime syndicate? Intelligence didn't seem to mind, they even went so far as to vouch for her, but he wasn't so sure. He'd mention it to Rob later, see what he thought. But other than that she seemed to check out. High sim scores and no mention of emotional baggage - she ought to do well.

The lift slowed to a halt, opened its doors, and wished him a pleasant good night. Justin reciprocated without thinking and then paused belatedly, wondering just how possible that was. But the lift didn't seem to notice, or care for that matter, and closed its doors behind him with a cheerful snap.

The f

 

K, Illusion-guys. I give you permission to write now. This is the last part I got.
--------------------------
The smaller man stood up to greet him and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "Hey, I missed you too! Tell me it hasn't been since the academy!"

"It hasn't. Chandrila, remember? You almost killed my astromech with your "pre-launch startup." Justin took off his jacket and walked into the kitchen. Conner followed closed behind, stifling a laugh.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about that. No grudges all right? I did apologize to you and your cooked R2."

Justin bent down and rummaged through the kitchen's tiny cooler. "He still remembers. Last time I checked his 'way's to get back at Flight Officer Slc' list was up in the thousands. He's gunning for you. Want anything to eat?"

Conner sat down on a stool and laughed again. "I swear I've seen that possessed droid of yours on the NRI's want list." He shook his head at Justin's offer. "No, I ate already. A lum or something would be nice though. Something light; it's late."

Justin gave a roguish grin and set a bottle down on the table, pulling out a self-heating package of nerf steaks for himself. "Since when does the hour matter to the most rebellious Jedi of all time?"

Conner grimaced and took a quick drink. "Since he lost an embarrassing bet with Master Skywalker."

Justin pushed his meat around in its sauce before taking a bite. "I don't think I want to know."

"You don't. But I'm here and I'm behaving. That was my punishment."

He laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Why are you here anyway?"

His friend looked surprised. "Didn't you here? I transferred out of Blackhawk."

"Tired of the A-Wings?"

Conner shrugged. "A little, I suppose. Despite whatever Master Skywalker says, excitement and adventure sure help make life interesting. Blackhawk Squadron was great, just a little slow."

"That's the first time I've ever heard an A-Wing called 'slow.'"

"It'll probably be the last too. I've always liked X-Wings better anyway. This new squad should be great."

It was Justin's turn to look confused. "What new squad?"

Conner laughed and tossed his empty bottle into the waste bin. "No one told you yet? I transferred to Illusion Squadron. I guess Command thought my old academy buddy could keep me out of trouble."

Justin leaned over and grabbed his datapad out of his coat from where he'd dropped it on the floor. He turned it on and scrolled through the list of names until he saw his friend, something he hadn't noticed before.
"Well look at that!"

Conner squinted across the table. "Is that the roster?"

"Yes."

"I thought only commanders were supposed to have copies of that until the squadron officially reported for duty."

Justin gave him a look. "You're not the only rebellious Jedi around here."

Conner laughed and pulled the datapad out of Justin's hands and into his own with a quick twist of the force. He moved to grab it, but it whizzed past his outstretched hands.

"You shouldn't be looking at that. Your security rating isn't high enough."

Conner scoffed and scanned through the profiles. "I think we've already broken that rule already."

Justin made a face and got up to see if there was any ryshcate left in the cooler. "Just don't tell Rob I let you see it. I'm not even supposed to have it."

Conner looked down on the bootleg copy. "That much is obvious. This Talon Ski guy, is he in any relation to General Ski?"

He pulled the freeze wrapped dessert off its shelf and brought it back to the table. "General Ski? Nope, never heard of him." He dug his fork into the cake swallowed it rapturously.

"He's over in Intelligence. Has his own covert X-Wing squadron. Cracken used to mention him now and then. Hey, do you have any more of that 'cate?"

"Last piece. Sorry."

"Sure you are. Anyway, I'll ask him tomorrow."

Justin scraped the last crumbs off his plate and tossed it in the sink. "Speaking of tomorrow, I have to go to sleep. Where are you staying?"

"Your couch."

Justin laughed and walked out of the kitchen. "Just watc

 

~TOPPERS!~

 

Talon Ski, otherwise known as "Snoop" walked into the hangar that was soon to be his home. He was a scout and his former squad mates knew this. He would spy on the commanding officer and then sell the juicy bits of information. It was a good living, and he knew it. He had the same name as the famous General Kevin Ski, but this was a mere coincidence. He smelled the lubricants and oils and saw the rows of X-wings being worked on. It was great to be home once again.

 

Garnin Jinn walked back to his quarters on the Skyhook Alpha-675. His acid-yellow saber was at his side, waiting to be used again. He had taken a shuttle from Coruscant's surface to the skyhook.
"Ticker," Garnin said to his R2 once he was in his room. "Good to see you!"
The R2 beeped the equivlent of "Good to see you as well, Master".

"Wake me up at 700 hours," he instructed the R2.
He walked into his bed area and climed in it and fell asleep.

 

"I'm sorry miss, you'll have to wait. First class passengers off first, you know. They've paid for the priveledge. You are..." He glanced at her ticket. "Third class. You'll have to wait a bit longer."

Cale Orick shifted her duffel onto her other shoulder and glowered at the customs droid.

"No. You don't understand. I'm a New Republic pilot and I have special..."

"If you are a New Republi pilot you should be traveling on a military transport, not a civilian liner. However, since you are here, you must follow our regulations."

"To Hoth with your regulations! I'm already late. I have to report in 4 hours, I haven't eaten in 7, slept in 20, and you're telling me to wait a little longer?!"

The droid picked up a snappish tone. "You said it miss, not me."

She considered how much trouble she'd get into by pulling her blaster on him and decided it wouldn't be worth it. Not a good way to make a first impression with her new commander; bailing her out of the spaceport brig. Her R2 pulled up behind her and whistled inquisitively.

"You talk to him Scooter. Threaten his logic processors."

The green astromech rolled passed her and did just that, threatening the other droid's heritage as well.

It didn't work. The custom's agent just looked down his metal nose and sniffed. "If you two..." He search for an appropriate noun. "Nerf herders don't remove yourselves from my sight at once I'm calling security. See look. I'm dialing!!!" He reached towards his comlink.

Cale gave him one last glare before she turned and walked back up to the main cabin.

"We'll find another way, Scoot."

 

1. Jedi Council
2. Jar Jar
3. R2
4. Ratts Tyrell

 

Wedge Antilles; as indicated by the little icon above my post.

 

Lara Taser sat in a Cantina playing a game a sabacc. She knew she had to report to the hangar at 0800, but she may as well finish this hand first....

 

4. "Look sir! Droids!" stormtrooper(no, I don't know why)
3.Han Solo
2.Obi Wan Kenobi
1.Yoda

 

This looks great! I'll try to add something when I get back from vacation.

 

Major Trilogy Guy: Han Solo
Major Trilogy Gal: Leia
Minor Trilogy Guy: Wedge
Really Minor Trilogy Guy: Janson
Movie Droid: R2-D2
Major Prequel Guy: Qui-Gon
Major Prequel Gal: Amidala
Minor Prequel Gal: Twi'lek slave girl
Bounty Hunter: Fett
Book Guy: Corran Horn
Book Gal: Mara Jade
Teen Guy: Jacen
Teen Gal: Jaina
Movie Couple: Han-Leia
Book Couple: Corran-Mirax
(I could go on forever and find a little thing for all of the great SW characters but I'll spare you the torture)

 

NATALIE PORTMAN


er, I mean Yoda.... yeah....

 

Original- Luke, Leia, R2
Prequel- Obi Wan

 

Vader, absolutely Vader.

 

1.Darth Vader/Anakin
2. Qui-Gon

 

My favorities are Parnaka and Padme.

 

"I don't know...I could get in a lot of trouble for this." The greasy mechanic frowned and scratched his head. "150."

Cale crossed her arms and shook her head. "50."

"75."

"Deal." She slipped the credits out of her pocket and slapped them into his outstreched hand. "You're a lifesaver."

He didn't smile, but just turned and opened up the service hatch behind him. "I'm sure. Just get out of here before my supervisor comes back. You know I could get a lot of trouble for this..."

"So I've heard." She brushed passed him, jumped the meter or so to the ground then turned and half-carried, half-dropped Scooter to the ground next to her. The hatch closed and locked behind her. She gave her astromech a look. "Puttin' on a little weight there, aren't we?" He raspberried and spun his bowl-shaped head around before extending his third leg and rolling away.

The filty, empty hanger stretched away into barely lit darkness. This level was for spaceport personel only; it'd taken her nearly an hour to work her way to the bowels of the ship and find a employee who answered to credits and not regulations. But it'd been worth it. She'd still be waiting at customs if she'd listened to regulations.

She shifted her ever-heavy sack onto her other shoulder and followed her R2. Now to find the barracks.

 

1. Luke
2. Qui-gon
3. Obi-won (the young one)
http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Cavern/3129/z95.gif
Jedi Knight Neon Star*

 

the slickmaster himself - Lando

 

Valance the bounty hunter from Marvel Comics
issues #16,#27,#29.

 

WEDGE ANTILLES!!!

 

<BLOCKQUOTE><font size="1" face="Geneva,Verdana, Arial">quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by LisaJ:
Movies: Wedge
Books: Janson

Have to agree with you, I also like most everyone from rogue and wraith squadrons

 

The TIE was tight on his tail and matching him juke for juke. The canyon was narrow and his asphalts barely skimmed the rocky, uneven surface on each side. He had no room to manuver. A pair of green lasers flashed in his viewports and he saw his rear shields drop a bit more. He'd already shunted all available power into the shield banks, he'd even powered down his lasers to get all the more, but it wasn't enough. His hands scrambled over the control panel stealing power from systems he deemed unneccesary. A shrill warning from his astromech made him look up and see the cliff wall a second before impact. His X-Wing hit nose-first, the torpedo bays exploding right before the fuel cells; his entire snubfighter shredded into atoms as the fuel ignited and burst the thin metal skin apart. He watched the fire burn out on the rocks with a sort of detached interest. Now that he thought about it, dying hadn't hurt all that much. Death was terribly overrated.

A shadow fell across him and he stirred. The shadow of death was all that came to his mind, but he opened his sugglish eyelids and looked up.

He lay on the floor in his office; datapads scattered next to him and a spilled cup of caf near his head. Justin sat in his chair, leaning over him and sipping out of his own cup.

"G'morning."

He groaned and shut his eyes against the bright, offensive sunlight that streamed in through his open window.

"I had a dream I died."

"When I came in here I thought you were dead."

"Ugh..." He sat up and rubbed his eyes. "What time is it?"

"0700. You didn't show up in the hanger for the fighter checkup like you said you would so I figured you were still in here."

"Sithspit." He stood up, picked up his cup from the night before, and filled it from the cafpot. He took a huge gulp and swallowed, making a rancorish face as it went down. "It's cold."

"I know. I got mine from your nice secretary. She makes it better than you do."

"I like my caf. There's nothing wrong with it." He pulled his jacket off his desk and tossed a datapad in Justin's direction. "Look over the roster, will you? I got to get home and clean up before the troops get here."

"Yes sir. I'm all over it."

Rob left and Justin counted to thirty before tossing the datapad back on the desk and refilling his cup. He leaned back in the commander's chair and swung his feet up on the table. He sipped and looked out onto the Coruscant landscape through the panaramic glass. So this was what it was like to be in charge...He laughed and took another drink. This was where the fun began.