Discussion in 'Fan Fiction- Before, Saga, and Beyond' started by Goodwood, Jan 6, 2012.
Nice to see him safe and getting the attention from his friends.
Wonder what Ostagar wants...
Anywho, looks like Chak has seen a bit of why they say that war is hell. And lol at the long, long bath in warm, carbonated mineral water. I wonder how that would feel, actually... I should get some bath fizzers!
Pilot Log: 2/21 Galactic Standard Date
A solid week without any sort of missions, briefings, exercises or any other operational minutiae is just what the medical officer ordered. We've been able to relax, catch our collective breaths, and take stock of what the last few months have meant for the squadron. We're still a pilot light, and the admiral doesn't want us going into action shorthanded, a policy that Captains Tyr and ReyolÃ© fully approve of.
It also gave me the time to catch up with one of the pilots from the 52nd, Ensign Salba Miroi. We're both been on the spit, running ops together from [REDACTED] to that last dustup where I nearly became space debris. Though she entered Starfighter Command just a few months ahead of me, we've hit it off rather well. It almost seems like we're the odd couple; I'm a somewhat shy Human from Coruscant, while she's a feisty Twi'lek from Corellia who could literally out-curse a Mandalorian. We'd been dating off and on since our squadrons were assigned to the same vessel, the Stalwart Defender. She says that I'm her "anchor," whatever that means, and I gotta confess that her beauty and worldliness are attractive.
I always did like green...
Hah! Listen to me gush. The Force knows I'm not the only guy who's ever had such thoughts about these things. I don't really know if what we have is just some shared infatuation, an incidental dalliance that reminds us we're still alive even as the universe endeavors to tear itself asunder, or if there's something more. At this point I can safely say that it doesn't matter. We're here, now, enjoying each other's company for as long as this brief period of respite will last.
Oh yeah, that's right: the reason why Ostagar wanted to see me after my kolto dunking was because he, too, had found himself a companion. It might seem odd, but for all his aggressiveness in the cockpit and his attitude in the barracks, he seemed to have a little trouble with the opposing gender. I guess that's how it goes in this life, and though I'm no suave romantic, I offered what insight I could. Here's hoping his female friend helps him to channel his energies more productively.
Nice to see him having a friend and a delightful post
Oh yes, he is enjoying his delightful post.
I bet he is!
You know, green is also my favorite color... And out-curse a Mando? Wow! That's one hell of a sewer mouth!
By the way, here be a rendition of Chak:
Goodwood (and Chak) approves.
sorry, been awhile. I just caught up. Good to see your main character has his bad missions [ejected and being dunked]
Girlfriends? Pilots just another day at the officer
Pilot Log: 3/2 Galactic Standard Date
All good things, it seems, must come to an end. Our respite was terminated five days ago when the 23rd departed the Stalwart Defender on a series of probing attacks within [REDACTED] sector, hitting Sith outposts while the 52nd flew cover. Salba got her tenth and eleventh kills during these little skirmishes, which makes her only one behind me. She's a hot hand in an Aurek fighter; she told me she wants to earn a shot at flying the Chela-class assault bird.
As much as I like her, she can have those pigs. Sure they hit harder, but from what I've heard, they're not as maneuverable. The S-250 is good for taking on larger warships, sure, but that's like being asked to dance with a nexu because you've shown an aptitude for artfully gyrating your hips to the tune of a popular jizz band.
Our hit-and-fade attacks aren't really causing that much actual damage, but near as I can tell we're doing a pretty good job of keeping the Sith on their toes. The good news is that we haven't taken any further personnel losses. However, during our last flight Lieutenant DuPuis took a bad hit from an anti-air laser cannon battery. Commander Juyode wanted him to bail, but my flight leader insisted that he could get his craft to safety. Rather brashly, I volunteered to shepherd the lieutenant's ailing starfighter out of the battle zone, nearly getting clobbered myself by the Sith combat aerospace patrol before Salba's flight bounced them in turn.
For some insane reason, they now want to give me the Silver Comet.
He sure is doing great work and he earns that Silver comet.
Nice new entry
Brashness, as long as it doesn't end in one getting offed like a punk, equals bravery to some. Perfectly good reason to commend what could oftentimes just be flat-out stupidity. Add that new entree to your salad bar and wear it proudly!
Pilot Log: 3/8 Galactic Standard Date
It's been a couple of days since the ceremony when Admiral Hetton presented us?that is to say, myself and a number of other soldiers and officers?with our medals and accolades. I felt a bit flustered during the entire affair, unable to shake myself out of the blush of embarrassment that colored my cheeks to match the crimson of my dress uniform. Thank the Force that the admiral didn't ask us to say anything, because I probably would have vomited right there on stage.
After that, it was right back to duty; the 23rd and 52nd were paired up once again for another hit-and-fade barely twenty hours later. Salba surprised me by routing flirtatious comm chatter between our fighters without the rest of the pilots any the wiser, honestly I don't know where she comes up with this kind of stuff. But it did make me laugh, and helped to pass the time on the ingress. And it helped to calm me down on the egress, as we only just barely got out of the system before a Sith cruiser was able to bring its swarms to bear on us. Our job is not for the faint of heart, that's for sure, and here's me afraid to give a speech in front of a crowd.
Ostagar's settling in with his own partner now, who turned out to be a raven-haired fellow Zabrak assigned to the Stalwart Defender's engineering staff. I couldn't have imagined how calm he's become because of this, but there you have it.
He might even make a decent wingmate now.
Ah good, Ostagar's got a new friend and confidant.
Giving speeches is far different a task than risking one's life. I hate public speaking. I'd rather go do something dangerous.
Speeches yes, more scary than flying
Pilot Log: 3/12 Galactic Standard Date
Wow, what a night...
The day started off routinely enough; the 23rd, acting alone, was tasked with conducting a quick reconnaissance of the [REDACTED] system ahead of the Stalwart Defender and the rest of Admiral Hetton's task force. We were supposed to be looking for any Sith forces that might be present; boy, did we ever find some.
Almost immediately after we reverted to realspace, our sensors were inundated with targets, mostly consisting of interceptors but with several frigates and a number of heavy cruisers on the Rimward side of the second planet. The lead squadrons were on us before Commander Juyode could get us onto an outbound vector, with Lieutenant DuPuis trying desperately to get through to the admiral and warn them of the imminent threat posed by the Sith in this area of space. All we could do was attempt to punch a hole in the vanguard formation to attempt a microjump.
It was easily the most intense dogfight I have been involved in; we were outnumbered three to one, and only our deflector shields made the difference between life for most and the deaths of the whole squadron. As it was, by the time we limped home we were down three pilots, with another two fighters written off on landing, their possessors sent to the medbay for long dunkings in kolto. Ostagar got out without a scratch, however, nearly making double ace as he swatted no less than six enemy ships from the tails of myself, DuPuis, Juyode and others. He fought like a man possessed; I had never even thought it was possible for a non-Jedi to fly like that. He flew his heart out, and he saved us all; if anyone deserves a medal, it's him.
My bunkmate, a soft-spoken Gotal ensign about six months my senior who had mostly kept to himself, was among the dead. Numb with shock and exhaustion, by the time I managed to ooze my way back to the barracks after the debrief I found that his bunk had been appropriated by Salba. How she had managed to get in didn't bother me in the slightest, instead I just collapsed into her open arms as she guided me to my own rack. It seemed like an eternity before either of us said anything, it was obvious that she had heard the news. And then suddenly we were...well, I don't need to spell it out.
The Force preserve us, this is going to be one long, bloody war. Though I'll do my duty for as long as I can, one cannot help but feel that it'll only be a matter of time before something gives way. Tomorrow we'll probably link up with some reinforcements to try and retake our original objective, though thankfully my squadron won't be participating in the initial push.
exciting action and Ostagar is great
but sad news too
Well, at least there was some comfort in the end...
Though, Ostagar... he's showing some gumption and is coming into his own.