Before - Legends Silver Swarms of Ships *RELOADED* [Dear Diary 2014] Diary Complete!

Pilot log, entry seventy-seven, 3957.6.9 BBY

Yesterday I returned to Battleaxe to retrieve my encrypted pilot log, in the company of a Rodian RNCI agent and self-proclaimed "computer wizard" named Gabby Taretto, along with a few civilian technicians also employed by the agency. Ostensibly they were coming aboard to download all of the ship's official duty logs for the continuing investigation, with other teams boarding the other four Republic vessels involved in the...incident. Gabby, at least, didn't seem too perturbed by the nature or details of it all; if she did, she showed no sign of it that I could discern. Now, I've met my share of Rodians, and while most can be a bit taciturn at first, they'll warm up to you once they've gotten the chance to get to know you—even so, most tend to be somewhat reserved. This particular specimen, on the other hand, seemed to bounce like a badly-tuned repulsorlift with every step, and fairly gushed with enthusiasm. I asked her as an aside, while we disembarked from the shuttle, what her opinion was on this kind of affair. "We're actually kind of lucky this time," she replied happily. "Most defections just happen like that—" she snapped her fingers "—and if the ship in question is ever seen again, it's fighting for the bad guys. Oh, I hope they left some tracer programs on board, I've always wanted to pick one of those apart..."

Retrieving the actual files was simple enough, which made me wonder why Agent Taretto kept hovering over my shoulder, though perhaps she had wanted to see if the log system itself had been compromised. Though Agent Grimm had made it clear during the interrogation that I didn't have to share my private concerns with RNCI, part of me felt compelled to do so anyway. It seemed unlikely that anyone would find the real Linna Scherzer, but it was at least somewhat comforting to know that the woman I had killed had been an enemy from the start. Once she had downloaded the files to her own computer, for my troubles Gabby gave me a secured and encrypted datapad that could be used for making further entries without having to worry about someone hacking into it—provided it remained in my possession, of course. In a magnanimous gesture, one of the shuttle's crew helped to retrieve my swoop from the vehicle storage area and together we loaded it aboard the small in-system craft once it was time to go back to Kuat. So even though I still have no idea what is going to happen to me from day to day, at least I have access to my own form of transport.

Once we got back to the surface, Gabby and I returned to the RNCI offices, where she formally handed over all of the electronic evidence she had been able to retrieve, including stuff that had my head spinning just thinking about the implications (while reasonably confident with most kinds of computing, I'm no slicer). While we were there Agent Grimm made sure that he bumped into me, using the apparently coincidental encounter as an excuse to meet in less formal circumstances. At first I had thought it simple coincidence, but when he exchanged looks with Agent Taretto and she jogged on ahead, I knew he had planned this out ahead of time. Before he could speak, I told him plain: if you think I can answer, ask whatever questions you want. He fixed me with a hard stare that reminded me of one of my flight school instructors, which I met with equal intensity—this was clearly a man who had seen his own share of horrible things. Somewhat to my surprise, he shook his head fractionally, clapped my shoulder in a respectful way, and thanked me for my continuing cooperation before walking off, leaving me momentarily alone in the corridor.

Well, today has so far been pretty uneventful aside from a brief but grateful reunion with the rest of my squadron, an impromptu affair that took place early this morning in the base officers' mess. By then everyone had heard the tale of my exploits on the bridge of Battleaxe, though no one was so tactless as to ask about it directly. All of us were thankful simply to have gotten out of it in one piece, though some expressed concerns about the other ships. Ensign Pew said that she had heard that Horseshoe's exec had narrowly escaped being killed herself; surprisingly, this caused my heart to constrict somewhat. Mara hadn't struck me as the kind of run-and-gun type that would be able to survive a shipboard lightfight, or so I had thought, and it occurs to me that I'm not really that much better off. Sithspit, I thought I hated war before this whole mess had started. Now, however, that resentfulness is swiftly becoming an all-consuming loathing.

If I survive this conflict, I'm taking Teish to Alderaan for about a year of unadulterated—and uninterrupted—peaceful living.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Great to read more about the investigations

 

Pilot log, entry seventy-eight, 3957.6.14 BBY

I don't think I really like Kuat very much, but it's difficult to explain why. For the past few days I've been rather aimlessly wandering the streets of the capital city, or else speeding through the skyways hoping that the familiar sensations of swooping will help to take my mind off of things. Unfortunately, it isn't really working out as I had hoped.

I still don't know everything about what happened on the day of the mutiny, but the holograph is gradually being fleshed out as I swap stories with various officers I know well—including Mara. She and I, along with a few other Navy officers who had been there, met for dinner a couple of days ago in a restaurant's private parlor in what turned out to be an informal debriefing. Captain Svellyn had succumbed to an assassin's blaster, though the man who had done the deed didn't win himself any friends and fortunately, someone had had the wherewithal to whack him with a stun bolt—so at least one murderer will stand trial. Mara fretted about the possibility of being promoted to fill the commander's shoes, but Halberd's captain—who had also barely survived an attempt on his own life—asserted that she shouldn't sell herself short and should have every faith in her ability to lead. Rapier had also been rocked by an attempted takeover, though both its captain and exec had managed to see it through. On the downside, this had come at the cost of her helmsman and navigation officer, both killed by bolts meant for CO and XO.

In summary, I have learned that this was an orchestrated campaign to undermine an entire Republic task force and deliver its vessels into the hands of the Sith, spoiled only by the unforeseen presence of the Ciutran vessels that had joined us. It turns out that they had been a last-minute addition to the convoy, after Commander Almo had suggested that a representative of the Ciutran Navy should make an informal visit to Coruscant to meet with the Republic's Chief of Naval Operations along with a military escort. I hadn't mentioned it in my log before this entry because I hadn't been aware of this suggestion; ironic that I should be clued in on this fact during a follow-up interview with Agents Grimm and Matronezzi. The two RNCI investigators had contacted Senna at my behest, and it was with no small measure of relief that I learned they had since ruled her out as having had anything to do with the insurrection. If she had been able to lend any insight herself, neither agent told me, and I wouldn't have expected them to under the circumstances.

Barring any major revelations, I think this will be my last log entry devoted to this whole sorry mess. It has taken up quite enough of my energy and, with so much still uncertain (leastwise any future deployments and additions to the roster), fretting about it won't do me or my pilots any favors. I want to fight, damn it, but I also want to go home and see my girl, even though I'm fully aware that neither can happen until the last variables of this bloody equation are nailed down. Besides, Teish'ala should probably be returning to duty soon, if she hasn't already, unless she's dealing with more than she has let on. It wouldn't surprise me, really, not after all I've seen and done.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

it had been a nasty situation

 

How daunting to realize the mutiny was so well-orchestrated. The Ciutrans saved everyone's bacon and the overall eventual outcome for the task force. It would be goood if Chak and Teish could have some R&R together before things rev up again action wise.

 

Pilot log, entry seventy-nine, 3957.7.11 BBY

After over a month of interviews, testimonies, and other associated endeavors, I and the 23rd Marines were finally released from the investigation and promptly shipped off to Coruscant two days ago. While it felt wonderful to at last be free of the lingering shroud cast by the events in deep space, the news upon my return home was quite jarring indeed.

In that moment, I had become the only member of my squadron. The entire roster has been cleared, my veteran pilots detached to plug holes in other units suffering from combat attrition. In an uncanny callback to the events of this time last year, I am to become the leader of a training squadron, taking a bunch of pilots fresh from flight school and molding them into a team that can eviscerate the Sith in space or atmosphere. Fortunately I am not alone, and have one advantage that Commander Rall did not: we have a brand new crop of Ciutran-pattern simulator units, and the services of Lieutenant Elam Breaustar, my new XO. Though he's a couple of years older than me (why oh why am I in such a lofty position at my age?), he is quite experienced—a veteran of Foerost who served with Commander Piccolé's 11th Marines and knows every bit as much as I do about what our enemy is capable of. The pair of us ought to bring the rookies, once they arrive at the fighter base we share with a number of Navy squadrons, up to speed in most respects.

We conducted a few mock dogfights in two of the simulators yesterday afternoon, enough for us to determine that while I can be the aggressive go-getter demonstrating the proper offensive mentality of a fighter pilot, the lieutenant is the super-sensory type who, while still flying his own craft, can help shepherd any possible stragglers. This can only be a good thing. A fellow Human from Ralltiir, Elam seems like a pretty laid-back person when not in the cockpit, not at all the workaholic that Senna is. The both of us indulged in a bit of mild carousing at a nearby cantina after our runs; we're not technically on duty until the training class shows up in three days' time, so we used the temporary bit of freedom to hash out a plan for accomplishing the task that has been set for us. Of course, anything we might do now is subject to change once we take the noobs through some initial exercises, but I'm reasonably confident we can work something out. Elam has been through this before, as he and his former CO had to do for the 11th what Commander Rall and I (along with Ettiau Pia) did for the 18th.

In the meantime, today I went home to visit my folks and to check on Teish'ala, and it's a good thing I didn't dally. When I got there it was to find Teish in her service greens, in the midst of packing up her stuff. I tried to help, but she waved me off and spent most of the effort muttering to herself. Mom took me aside at that point and told me that my girlfriend was suffering from a bit of "cabin fever" from not being able to fly for so long. I asked her how she knew this, and she smiled, referring me back to a time when I was sixteen and recovering from a particularly bad swoop bike crash. With that mutual experience in mind, I managed to get Teish out of her funk to the point where we could exchange proper pleasantries in private. To my great delight, I learned that she had finally been promoted to command of her own squadron, also a training outfit—and that she would be staging from the same base as the 23rd!

The good news was somewhat darkened by the reason she had been on extended convalescence: according to Teish, this second time going extravehicular, and while wounded at that, had caused some sort of mental trauma. The medical officer had pronounced her as suffering from battle fatigue, and was for quite a while unwilling to certify the Twi'lek as fit to fly. "I'm pretty sure he still thinks I'm crazy," she went on to explain. "So I guess the brass wants to try me out with a crop of rookies to see if I've still got it or if they'll have to give me a desk to fly. If that happens..."

She didn't have to finish the sentence for me to get the idea. Unlike her, however, I don't think I'd up and leave the service just because I couldn't fly. There are plenty of other things to do—including going Navy and learning how to command a starship. I told her about this, how I had toured a Ciutran cruiser and been given some hands-on experience with the helm of a Hammerhead-class cruiser as well as a working description of a few other bridge posts. She laughed in spite of herself, conceding the point with that special half-smirk she had perfected when we were first an item. So, all in all this is a much-needed improvement over the previous situation, both on Ciutric IV and Kuat. I'm home, within spitting distance of my family, and a few dozen paces from the woman I love. It's tempting to just relax into this assignment and enjoy its perks, but I won't let myself do that. Darth Revan is still out there—two weeks ago he personally attacked and killed Ysanis of Echani—and so are his minions. As leaders, it is our responsibility to ensure that our troops are as ready to meet the enemy as possible, and that is a burden that I will carry forth no matter the cost.

But we can still take the occasional breaks.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

The new XO sounds a competent one and a great hanging around together type I am glad Chak was able to give Teish some ideas to ponder just in case she's 'grounded.' I am trying very hard not to love! the perks of his new assignment Hope it lasts.

 

A new assignment and meeting his girlfriend. Great for him and maybe more breaks?

 

Pilot log, entry eighty, 3957.7.15 BBY

The ten new pilots arrived yesterday and, in keeping with our philosophy of putting them to work right away, Elam and I threw them to the lions with a recreation that my exec had worked up of the Sith attack on Foerost—under emergency alert conditions, which meant no briefing. Since I hadn't experienced a simulacrum of that battle, or even read the related reports, it was also an interesting test for myself. Predictably, it took the new people a few minutes to get used to the new flight simulators, and overall we didn't do all that great. Elam was the only one to complete the run, but that was only because he had been there—a fact that I made an effort to emphasize in the post-flight debrief. I actually managed to get vaped while flying wing on a promising Bothan pilot, by a turncoat capital ship that got him shortly thereafter, which segued in nicely to a tirade about how this war isn't so black-and-white as some of them may have been told. After that initial run, we went for something a little more staid: a standard attack on an enemy ground emplacement in support of Marines on the ground. That flight proved much more amicable, and only one of the rookies had to punch out, though a few others lost shields and accrued virtual dings on their virtual Aurek fighters.

Owing to my previous experiences in this war, today I insisted on the entire squadron taking part in blaster pistol practice. Somewhat to my surprise, all of the new people were quite good with their sidearms, though none threatened to surpass my personal scores. Elam is a different story, and we're going to have to settle the title of "best gunslinger" at a later date. Once that was done, I gathered everyone around and described various situations that they might find themselves in if they end up going extravehicular, or are pinned to the ground by enemy forces. Though I personally haven't had the pleasure of punching out into pure vacuum, Elam had, and he took up the narrative for that part. Unlike myself, however, he hasn't had to wait out an enemy-enforced no-fly zone, nor has he bailed out into the middle of a ground action. All of this led up to the declaration of three standing orders for everyone in the 23rd: 1. Always carry your sidearm. 2. Know your host ship/station and its crew. 3. Assume nothing, take nothing for granted, and expect the unexpected.

I don't know how effective these initial exercises and briefings have been, but at least a theme for our training has been established. Our roster is strong but untested, and while the potential to become an elite unit is there, this smattering of recently-graduated pilots has a lot yet to learn about working together as a cohesive team. Especially given the tactics and strategies that I have developed and the enemy we face; when we are to go into battle for the first time as a unit, I want everyone as prepared as possible to meet the foe and to acquit themselves well.

Now that that's out of the way...

In the three days before the new pilots arrived, Teish'ala and I made the most of our time together. Ironically, her new unit is the 23rd Navy Starfighter Squadron, which had recently taken part in several skirmishes with Sith interdiction forces, the most recent of which saw their commanding officer vaped by a particularly skilled enemy flyer. She told me of this in a would-be casual manner that nonetheless had me somewhat concerned; she was being asked to take over and essentially remake a decapitated unit, which holds its own challenges to which I can attest. So in between cantina-crawling and spending quality time alone, I offered up a few suggestions for how to overcome most of the potential hurdles she may encounter. Teish seemed to accept what I said and even thanked me for the advice, but I still worry about her. I proposed that later on we should pit our respective squadrons against one another in simulator combat, and that definitely got her attention—we haven't simmed against each other since the old days of serving together as ensigns aboard the Stalwart Defender.

This could make for an interesting diversion, in any case, both for our respective units and ourselves. If things work out, it may even be possible further down the lane for us and our pilots to go head-to-head in our Aureks—with lasers powered down, of course. I had entered into this war thinking that ship-to-ship combat would be the rare exception for Marine flyers, but the truth has proved to be very much the opposite. And it's my job to disabuse any such notions that my new pilots may hold.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Settling in nicely and he and Teish are definitely able to work off each other and compare notes.

 

Not necessarily bragging, more like a happy lament. He's glad he's been able to last this long and prove himself enough, but the responsibility can be trying at the best of times.

 

Great to see him sharing his experience with the new pilots and nice to have his girlfriend there

 

Pilot log, entry eighty-one, 3957.7.27 BBY

After the first two weeks of simulator runs, briefing and debriefing sessions, a few more rounds of blaster pistol practice, and an interactive lecture on the overall galactic situation given by the base's commanding officer, the 23rd now has a preliminary roster. Both Elam and I have identified a number of pilots with leadership potential, and together we assembled the three flights and their constituent elements. I will lead One Flight, Elam will take Three Flight, and the Bothan I flew with on the Foerost sim, Ensign Paol Gril'char, will take command of Two Flight. Though neither of us survived that first run, he has since shown an aptitude for starfighter tactics, possesses keen situational awareness, and is an excellent marksman both on the pistol range and in the cockpit—with enough practice he might even become a challenge for Elam and myself. The three off-side element leaders, a pair of Duros and a Twi'lek, have shown enough awareness to be able to look after their wingmates in addition to themselves in sim combat, though it remains to be seen how they do in their roles now that they're codified.

The roster is, of course, subject to change based on continuing performance in training, and I made sure to emphasize that fact to the rest of the squadron once the assignments were handed out. Because of his new position as Two Flight's leader, Gril'char has earned a brevet, or temporary, promotion to lieutenant junior grade, which will become permanent once the 23rd has been recertified for combat operations. "The last two weeks have been mostly fun and games," I said to the squadron in closing. "But now the serious work begins. Get with your flights, talk with your wingmates, see how well you get along, and air out any personal issues ASAP, because from here on in we are all part of a single unit. If any of us are going to survive our first battle, let alone the war, we will have to fly into the jaws of the enemy as a team."

Once I had dismissed the other pilots, Lieutenant Gril'char remained behind as I had hoped he would. "Congratulations, Lieutenant," Elam said to him. "It's a big step."

"I realize that sirs," he replied, somewhat tremulously. "It's just that...I'm a little nervous. I only left flight school three weeks ago, and though my marks were high, I don't know if I'm ready for the responsibility you've given me."

Elam and I exchanged looks; it was clear we were both on the same page. "It feels like your skin's on fire, doesn't it, Gril'char?" I asked, cocking a half-grin at the Bothan, at which he nodded fractionally. "All I can say is, welcome to the club," I continued soberly. "The fact that you're nervous shows that you care about your duty and your people. Don't be surprised if that nervous energy disappears once the canopy closes on your fighter and you pop her into the sky, it just means you're redirecting it into doing your job. Trust me, it is an advantage you will do well to embrace."

Paol considered that for a few moments, then smoothed his neck fur before continuing. "It's just that my sister, Asyr, is in the Republic Naval Academy now—she's about to go into her junior year there. If at all possible, I'd rather she didn't have to serve her first posting during wartime."

"Don't be in a hurry to end the war by yourself," Elam countered softly. "It's all well and good to hope for the best, but as Commander Ravartin rightly says, expect the unexpected."

Paol Gril'char saluted and left, and Elam and I went out for caf afterward. We had already scheduled a trio of simulator runs for the next day, and knew that it would still be another week before the new pilots' starfighters would be delivered. We discussed the flight and wingpair assignments once more, taking into account each pilot's reaction to the news; though one or two had been slightly taken aback or put out, overall we remain confident that the basic unit structure is sound. Some elements might get tweaked in future, if for example my own wingman would be better suited flying wing on Elam, and his own would do better as Lieutenant Gril'char's backup man. But that's small stuff, and unless it becomes an issue for the whole squadron, I doubt any special notes will be made in my log. As with the retraining of the 18th, I don't expect too many asteroids in the shipping lane.

Probably the only thing I have to gripe about is that because we've been so deep in our mutual tasks, Teish'ala and I haven't spent much time together, despite the fact that she's still living with my folks and not in on-base housing. Even though I've been doing the same, most of the time when we do see one another, we're too tired to do much more than drift off to sleep in each others' arms.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Good to see that he has a couple of great new leading pilots

 

(Incidentally, she appears elsewhere)

Pilot log, entry eighty-two, 3957.8.5 BBY

The squadron's new allotment of starfighters, one for each of the rookies for a total of ten, arrived two days ago. Though not a formally-trained mechanic, growing up as a swooper I have always been at least somewhat familiar with the inner workings of high-powered engines and repulsorlifts; this came in especially handy when on the swoop team. But throughout my career I have been steadily improving my knowledge of starfighter systems to the point where I've been able to do some of my own maintenance when we were short on ground crew (the campaign for Lannik was one such example). With this in mind, yesterday Elam and I insisted that everyone including ourselves make thorough inspections of our mounts to ensure that they were in good working order and fit each pilot's individual tolerances, in essence ensuring that the shoe would fit the foot that would be wearing it. Somewhat to my surprise, the Ralltiiri native is quite a handyman, and I asked as an aside where Elam learned the trade; apparently his husband is the chief engineer on a Foray-class frigate and knows a lot about high-performance machinery.

It took a few hours, punctuated by quite a lot of swearing in various languages, but eventually the pilots of the 23rd managed to get the goods on their craft with the assistance of a very patient Sullustan chief mechanic and her Verpine assistant. Afterward, I dismissed the rookies for a couple of hours so they could get themselves cleaned up and take a leisurely lunch, before coming back for a surprise that I had been cooking up. In the meantime, Elam and I met with Teish'ala and her XO (a Human woman named Sessi Berkot who's not much older than myself) to hash out the details of our first simulator encounter. It had taken a little while to hook up the data feeds from one batch of simulator pods to another, and eventually the whole base will be wired in such a way, but now we had to decide on a scenario. Teish's exec suggested the possibility of crafting data modules that would let the Ciutran-designed simulators approximate the performance profile of a Sith interceptor, and while I loved the idea, all four of us quickly realized that there simply wasn't enough data available. To our collective knowledge, the Republic has yet to capture an enemy starfighter intact.

In the end, we agreed to take turns playing as Mandalorian opponents based off of simulator runs and known performance profiles from the previous wars. And boy did we have fun, even if both classes of rookie pilots got pretty well slaughtered every time in near-chaotic mutual destruction. Most of the six or seven runs we engaged in came down to Elam and myself versus Teish'ala and Lieutenant Berkot, and those contests were almost always decided by who was more readily adaptable to the Mandalorian fighters' different handling characteristics and firepower. Exhausted but extremely pleased with ourselves, we called off the games at around 1930 hours and insisted that everyone get as much rack time as possible in preparation for the first live flight we would engage in as a squadron.

As I write this, it's still early and most of my rookies are in the mess hall cramming down breakfast. I have every confidence that our flights today will be good ones; our collective sim scores are rising briskly, and all of the noobs received their flight certification before they joined the 23rd. The basics are there, no one is slagging off or otherwise causing problems, and once we've achieved a baseline in the real thing...that's when I'll teach them how to be the true gundarks that will help to win this war.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman

 

Excellent Rookies learning fast - always what you wanna find. Chak is really mastering the whole getting everyone more than battle-ready and it sounds like he's able to keep it 'fun.'

 

nice to see him with eager to learn rookies and having fun with them

 

Pilot log, entry eighty-three, 3957.8.31 BBY

Of all the pilots I've had the privilege to have met and flown with, I'd take this group up against any of them, on any battle-plane. After first evaluating their performance upon their arrival, Elam and myself had both agreed that we were dealing with possible elite-level flyers, and I am proud to write that they have come through in every way possible. The instructors they had had whilst in flight school must have included a number of veterans of this war, because they are taking to the fighting style I have been teaching them like hawk-bats to granite slugs. This aspect showed signs of being present during the sim phase, and here is the final evidence: the 23rd may soon prove themselves the best starfighter unit in the entire Marine Corps, and possibly even a match for veteran Republic Navy squadrons in terms of pure fighter-versus-fighter combat. Every other unit stationed at this training base has gone up against us so far, save for Teish'ala's 23rd Navy people, and all of them were all but helpless under our guns.

Teish's turn to face me and my people in live combat came two days ago, at which point I was somewhat surprised to learn that all of her pilots are female. By contrast, there are only two women in my unit, each of them serving as element leads in mine and Elam's flights, and each of them with the potential to become flight leaders further down the line. When at last the gauntlet was thrown, we squared off around one of the innermost moons of the gas giant Muscave, this one fairly volcanic from tidal pressures exerted by its mother planet and sun. Unfortunately for our opponents, this kind of terrain and environment favored Marine-style flying, and in the first engagement we gave them a thorough drubbing; only Teish'ala and her wingmate, as well as her XO Lieutenant Berkot, "survived" the fight while none of our people so much as lost shield power. Since fair is fair and we were still on the same side, I agreed to hold the second engagement in deep space halfway between Muscave and Coruscant. Even then, the Navy women didn't fare much better, trading eight of their flyers (including a rather indignant Teish'ala) for two of ours and one simulated EV.

Despite the genuine pride I feel for my people, Teish's opinions expressed in comm chatter and during the debrief have me feeling deeply concerned, both for her and her squadron. Something has happened to her and I don't know what, because she just wasn't flying like her old self. She used to be every bit as aggressive as any other pilot I had known, and she's seen almost as much combat as I have, and yet she seemed...almost timid that day, like her heart wasn't really in it any more. Though I would very much like to do something to address this situation, it amounts to little more than a gut feeling, and I am not going to torpedo the career of the woman I love on just a hunch. I have since tried to bring up the issue in private, but she flat-out refuses to talk; she even moved out of my parents' place and into on-base housing this morning, after the discussion turned into a heated argument with quite a lot of shouting.

Stang, I feel miserable. Even though we are far from the fighting, this war is tearing my world apart. Despite that, all I can do is carry on with my own squadron, making sure that they're ready for one last run to earn their recertification, which should take place within the coming week. Paol Gril'char is proving himself an adroit pilot and capable leader, and if anything were to happen to myself or Lieutenant Breaustar, I have no doubt he will be able to take up the slack that our absence would create. Such confidence I have in the Bothan that I have put in for him to be considered for elevation to full lieutenant once the 23rd has arrived to its next posting.

______________________________________________________________________
Thumper09 windu4 Nyota's Heart earlybird-obi-wan TrakNar Findswoman