Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Black Sheep (Always Accepting New Players)

IC: Ethan "Veteran" Malek
Intrepid

The longer Flagg talked the more frustrated Ethan felt. Not only had the mission turned into a disaster, but now they were held responsible for it, for not sticking to the planned strategy. No plan survives first contact with the enemy, his instructor had told him once, or had it been his dad?

Their plan had died the moment they had discovered the escort was much stronger than expected, not to mention the Super Star Destroyer in the orbit of Naboo and the arrival of the TIE defenders. The intelligence should have informed us about this. Ethan asked himself again how the rebels could have miscalculated the number of imperial forces in the system. One of several things in this mission that seemed off to him. Why had they undertaken such a dangerous attack just for luxury food stocks? Why hadn´t Flagg called off the mission after the resistance was stronger than expected? Had someone warned the imperials or had the presence of a elite squadron of TIE defenders just a coincidence?

Ethan shook his head, it probably was nothing, just his paranoia. The worries of an old man who sees lies and deceptions everywhere, he thought with a sad smile as Flagg finally finished his monologue.

Commander Wallings stepped forward and began listing of the casualties each of the fighters had inflicted. It seemed Ianna´s attacks had been successful as she had damaged several of the imperial frigates, while Ethan himself had managed to take out a number of TIE fighters. Though the former imperial wasn´t sure how reliable Wallings information's where, given she and the other officers had managed to overlook a Super Star Destroyer.

He still had some time until that memory service began and he wanted to change his cloths and could use something to eat so he guided his steps towards his quarters. His civilian clothing's were dark and fictional, ideal to strap a chestplate and other pieces of armor over them if need be, but still elegant enough for a formal meeting.

Leaving his quarters and heading towards the mess hall Ethan´s thoughts returned to the battle and the losses they had suffered. How many people had died in the last few hours, for a few stocks of luxury food. He wondered if someone he knew had been among the imperial forces, he had deserted more than ten years ago but maybe some of his former comrades still served the empire. For a moment some of them appeared before his mind as he sat down with his simple meal. All the men and women who had fought at his side since his days in the ORSF, some had died but for a moment he wondered where all the others were in this moment. How did they viewed the empire? How would they react if they could see him here, a part of the rebellion? Most of them, the imperials would see him as a traitor, while the mercenaries would mock him for risking his life for nothing.

At last his thoughts turned towards his parents, what would they feel when they could see what had become of their son? Would they be ashamed that he was a traitor? Would they understand the decisions he made? They had always taught him to act honorable, to protect the weak and fight injustice and he had tried his best to follow their teachings since then.

Again he shook his head, it was futile to think about it. His parents had died while he had still been a part of the imperial forces and there was nothing they could say to their son anymore.

Lost in his thoughts he almost missed Ianna as the girl approached him and pulled him into a hug. Returning it Ethan was glad that she hadn´t despaired over the loss of Ditch and Turncoat. One day he knew the horrors of war would change her as well, would darken her thoughts as it had his over the years. But not today, he told himself as he let go of the hug after a moment.

"The memorial service will soon begin," he said with quietly. "Let us honor our fallen comrades together."

Tag: @galactic-vagabond422

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Her quarters (running late)

The alarm disoriented her. She woke in a panic, thinking there was a scramble or that they were under attack. But no, it was just the reminder she had set for the memorial service. Max groaned. She’d had a sonic shower, to get the sticky frosting off, then a lovely (if short) shower with very hot water to get the ache left in her muscles from combat. She’d taken a mild painkiller, then started to change, deciding that the duty uniform issued on Hoth would be best. But she’d sat on the bed to pull on her boots…and lost two hours in sleep.

And she could have used more; she felt almost as if she was underwater, moving through a fog. No, she could not miss the memorial service. She hadn’t known any of the fallen, and exchanged only two sentences with Dimmall…but these had been her squadron mates. And there had been no memorial for those lost on Hoth or afterwards, there had been no time. She really needed to commemorate them, too.

She pulled on her partisan boots, tucked her fire crystal under her shirt, and slipped her personal datapad into a pocket, with her unitool and walked towards the pilots’ lounge. Moving very quickly without appearing to hurry was an important skill for a partisan; especially when moving away from something that was about to go ‘boom.’

There were quite a few people there; she recognized many of the Black Sheep. There were a few other pilots there as well, from Viper and Intruder squadrons. They’d had losses, too.

Zara was behind the bar, giving a dirty look to a tall woman with four arms. Max tried to remember—her father would be disappointed if she couldn’t, after all the memory training he’d given her—Lurrell. That was it, B-wing pilot. She’d gotten off a shot as she was headed for landing. The sulky redhead was talking to Captain Wystari… her name was…Tehanis. First name began with Auresh… Amilynn? Ambri? No, wait, Amber. Amber Tehanis.

Malek was talking softly to Ioanna. For a moment their eyes met. Max sighed. She wondered if he remembered, as she did… the row of soldiers and marines on the burning deck of the Grappler, saluting as they were left to face their death. She would have to talk to Veteran. Those men and women deserved to be memorialized, too, to have someone raise a glass to honor them.

No sign yet of Lou or Joy. Flagg hadn't arrived yet, or the Mandalorian. Max frowned. He had a name, she had to remember it. Trigg. No, Taag. Taab, that was it. So she wasn't completely late. Kayn was in a corner, playing a tune on an instrument, something soft, something familiar… she listened for a moment, and felt a sudden sharp twinge in her chest. It was a hymn, a soft dirge. The last time she had heard it was at her mother’s funeral. She took a deep breath, touching the fire crystal under her shirt while turning away for a moment to collect herself. So much loss. So many gone. The Empire had a lot to answer for.

Well. The dead would be remembered. And those who were left would look after each other (she hoped), so that they would live. In the meantime, she needed a drink. It was usual to drink a toast to the memory of the fallen, but you couldn’t do that without a glass of something. She went up to the bar, nodding at Lurell.

“Nice shot back there,” she said, before turning her attention to the shelves of bottles, scanning hopefully for a familiar label with a crouching black bird. Her hopes were dashed, which was no surprise. Corvie Ridge was a fairly small concern, it was rare to find outside the Inner Rim.

Someone had brought a nice bottle of Selonian rum, and there were a few sunfruit in a bowl. Max sliced one with the unitool, squeezed the juice into a glass and accepted a generous portion of the rum. She looked at her fellow Corellian, and cleared her throat, uncertainly.

<Captain Wystari,> she said softly, <this is wonderful, thank you. I was wondering…the next time you have a supply run to make…would you mind if I tagged along? If I can get permission? As crew, of course, I'd pull my weight.>

Tag: @Corellian_Outrider, Anyone

 

IC: Zara Yaren
Pilot's Lounge

The first glass down wasn't doing much for her nerves, but this cheap attempt at a drink had about the kick of blue milk. Luckily a rescue came in the form of the Valkyria's captain, wielding something that looked like it cost at least ten times, probably more, than what she was downing.

“Don’t tell me that I’m interrupting something.” He said as he made his way deeper into the room. “Also it is not wise to drink alone…” He held up a white bottle of Chanzari. “... with Selonian Rum. Any takers?”

It would do. Zara hadn't yet formed an opinion of the human, beyond the utterly unsurprising Corellian accent. The way he'd flown out there matched exactly what she expected from Corellian pilots: way too risky and with a much higher opinion of themselves than they had earned. From the bar, she assembled some glasses for any of the others arriving-- presumably someone else here would take a drink-- but before she could indicate to the man that she'd partake, the four-armed pilot arrived and addressed Zara directly.

"Barkeep, whatever you have strong and spicy." Both left hands slapped on the bar, and Zara frowned at her. This was one of the B-wing pilots, she knew that much, but Zara wasn't much in the mood for whatever was going on here. After a moment, though, she decided she didn't care enough to say anything, and grabbed a bottle from the shelf without looking at what it was, setting it on the bar heavily next to the glasses.

"Enjoy," she said, completely toneless, leaving the pilot to pour it for herself. Zara poured more of the garbage drink for herself and squinted unhappily as she swallowed it down. Blast, this was bad.

More were arriving-- she spotted Max and felt her stomach flutter uneasily, not sure what to say now-- which meant it was just about time. Just waiting on the last few stragglers and the big boss, Flagg, to get this started. Sooner the better.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, any in the lounge

 

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari
Location: Intrepid - Pilot’s Lounge

“No, wouldn’t have made it without you.” Amber had said to him.

“Always welcome. You would have done the same for me.” He gave Amber a warm smile. “Glad to be of assistance in time.”

He turned his head and saw a Codru-Ji had entered. The “Wolf”, he remembered her callsign and seems to suit her. He wasn’t that familiar with her species though had heard stories. There was something about her stance which seemed… agitated, he wasn’t sure as he watched the exchange between her and Amber. Probably best to respectfully step back and observe to err on the side of caution.

He had caught Zara’s look as she had set up glasses and the subtle twitch of the tips of her lekku when Wolf went over to her. Wystari looked away to give a friendly nod to Kayn before making his way over to the bar, “Don’t mind me,” He said to Zara as he went around to the glasses the twi’lek had set down and made up a drink for her. For his own glass he added two cubes of ice and partially filled with rum. He made one more and kept the bottle close to rest of the glasses Zara had set down for anyone else to help themselves to. He carried both his own and the other glass and moved over to Kayn.

“Khasaan’l” Wystari whispered a Corellian greeting, with care to not interrupt him and held the glass up as a small toast before placing it down by the Devaronian.

He slowly made his way towards the bar again, his eyes scanned some of the new patrons. Judging by their patches, there were mostly from the other units with a couple of familiar faces mixed amongst them. His left hand rested at the small of his back as he cradled the drink for a moment before finally taking a sip. He let it mull over, tasting the flavour before swallowing. There was a tang to it, reminded him of another time, of the tropics…

He recognised one of the other members of B-Flight, Maxime. He remembered seeing her before the mission with Kayn with the droid, Foodie. He chuckled to himself about that incident and smiled inwardly as he saw Max fix up a drink and used the rum. He did the right thing bringing that, an offering to the squadron. He noticed her gaze had turned to him and cleared her throat which further got his attention. He gave an acknowledging nod and stepped closer to her.

<Captain Wystari,> she said softly, <this is wonderful, thank you. I was wondering…the next time you have a supply run to make…would you mind if I tagged along? If I can get permission? As crew, of course, I'd pull my weight.>

What surprised him was that she addressed him in their native tongue. That alone told him that she wanted to speak directly with him. He gauged her expression, her eyes as he listened to her request. Something important to her must be happening for a request like that. He did not mind as it is good to have someone to speak to on such hauls and it was no trouble as he occasionally took onboard a few people to help out with some of the larger shipments.

<“It is a pleasure, you are welcome.”> He gave a light smile and answered in kind. <“Also welcome to accompany the Valkyria on a supply run. There is a window of opportunity coming up soon though my schedule can be a little bit flexible.”>

TAG: Maxime, Open

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Pilots' Lounge, Intrepid

<“It is a pleasure, you are welcome. Also welcome to accompany the Valkyria on a supply run. There is a window of opportunity coming up soon though my schedule can be a little bit flexible.”>

Max smiled with relief and pleasure. It was so nice to be able to use the language of home, her real home. She had been away for so long, sometimes it seemed as if she must have dreamed it.

<"Thank you,"> she said. <"Of course assuming I can get permission to get away. I have a few...errands to run. And I did want to let my father know I'm still alive. He is part of the Rebellion, he will have heard what happened at Hoth. He might have heard I survived, but...I think he'd be happier hearing it directly from me.">

She turned her head. Flagg was at the door, had stopped to talk to someone. They would be starting soon.

TAG: Anyone

 

GM Update
Episode 101: The Replacements​

​

IC: Commander Arick "Boss" Flagg
Port side hanger, outboard, Rebel Carrier Intrepid.

As Commander Flagg stepped on to the bustling hanger deck he was greeted by a cacophony of sound and movement. Most of the fighters in the bay were being worked on, and loud shouts punctuated the noise of the busy flight deck as deck crew went about their various tasks. CPO Tyr, supervising the work on Vixen's X-Wing, waved Flagg over but the squadron commander shook his head and raised a pad in reply. He wasn't here for a debrief on the flight status of their fighters, they had all just gotten back and he knew it might be some time before they could all be spaceborne again, he was here for something else. The Chief looked at him confused for a moment and made to shout a question to him, but it was drowned out as an alarm even louder than the already deafening din of the bay sounded out over them all. On the far side of the bay a shuttle began to ingress through the magnetic shield, the reason for the blarring alarm. The bay had a new arrival. Flagg pointed to it and Tyr nodded his understanding. The squadron commander was here to meet the shuttle, not get an update on the progress of repairs. The shuttle settled down with a loud groan on it's landing struts as one by one a quartet of X-Wings also set down in the bay. They had been the shuttle's escort, though unlike the shuttle, they would be staying aboard the Intrepid, just not the way originally planned.

Flagg looked down at the pad now, it had been handed to him by Commander Wallings just after he had left the Black Sheep briefing room. On it were names and flight assignments for the various new arrivals. Most of these were aboard the shuttle, though only one was destined for the Black Sheep, a Weapons System Officer (WSO) for on of their Y-Wings. Everyone else on the shuttle was slated as additional pilots and crew for the other squadrons in the Intrepid flight wing, though that had now changed he saw as he perused the revised orders on the pad. Now they were getting an additional Y-Wing pilot as well. He raised an eyebrow as he looked over the woman's file. Yeah, she will fit right in he sighed as he looked to the X-Wings that had settled down near the shuttle and were being steered towards their own revetments. Sadly only two of those would be staying with the Black Sheep now.

Originally the Black Sheep were supposed to add an entirely new flight to their ranks, something Flagg had been unaware of until he had been handed the pad, but the situation had changed. Now two of the T-65s (and their pilots) would be headed to reinforce the Intruders (bringing them back to full strength), while the Black Sheep would retain the other two. At least they would be getting one of the 'Raiders wishbones in return, to be assigned to this new Y-Wing pilot, once the logistics of moving out the X-Wings and bringing in the new bomber could be worked out. Until then, it was time to get the new pilots bedded down. The two X-wings were a welcome sight, they would be easily folded into the squadron. Now if command could only get them another B-Wing or two they would surely need the extra firepower. He knew Wallings already had another mission in mind for them, and the feral look on her face when Kayn had tossed her that data disc told him that it had something to do with the parts of that convoy that they had let go.

He approached the X-Wing flight first, even as the boarding ramp to the shuttle lowered and the passengers began to disembark. "Rosencrantz, Guildenstern," he cried out to the pair of pilots who looked at him quizically from under their flight helmets. "You two have been reassigned to the Intruders, they're one section over." The pair looked at him and then one another in a rather confused, even absurd, manner, entirely unsure of where to go and what to do, making Flagg rather glad he wouldn't have to worry himself about them as a part of his squadron. "Your birds stay here for now, we'll get them moved over to the right bay when we get the chance. But you need to report to Commander Kryze on the double."

The pair still looked confused but shrugged and meandered off, engrossed in their own conversation, one that had apparently been going on since during their flight. "The colors red, blue, and green are real..." one could barely be heard saying as they walked out of earshot. Flagg shook his head, hiding a sardonic smile. "Flight Officer Nombuun," Flagg grimaced, knowing he had mangled the Sullustan's name as the pilot stepped forward removing his helmet, "and Sergeant Panno." He looked at the last X-Wing pilot who was looking at the underside of his own fighter. "You two are assigned to me." A pair of enlisted crew rushed forward to greet them as well. "They'll grab your gear for you and get it to your quarters. You two can follow me to the pilots lounge to meet the rest of the squadron." He looked over to the shuttle as the two fell into line behind him. Another officer was already directing many of them where to go, but Flagg wanted to round up his own people. People here being used in the loosest sense of the word.

"Warrant Officer Parvil," he said to the worm like creature that was hanging about near the shuttle's boarding ramp, "and Flight Officer Quin," a Zelton woman looked at him with confusion on her face. "Welcome to the Black Sheep." Flagg regarded the caterpillar for a moment, wondering just what the hell it was when Quin spoke up. "I'm uhh I'm supposed to be over there," she pointed to the small group leaving the bay and headed over to join the Star Raiders. She handed Flagg a set of orders that she pulled out from a pocket in her garish red and black checkerboard patterned flight suit. Flagg took them and compared them to the ones on his pad. "Not anymore," he said without a hint of emotion. "Situation has changed and you're assigned to me now." She seemed to take that in stride as she removed her helmet and blew her hair out of her face. "In fact, you two are going to be flying together now." The Zeltron woman looked at the caterpillar, she didn't know what it was either, but she didn't seem to care. "I'm Quin," she said cheerfully as she held out her hand in greeting. "But everyone calls me Harley." She smiled an over sized wicked looking grin. "Nice to meetcha!"

TAG: @MasterFlowda @GenOochy

OOC: Welcome to the game MasterFlowda and GenOochy, I know it's been a long time getting to this point (and I still have one more player in limbo until we can get to the point to intrdoduce him) so I very much appreciate your patience. Any questions feel free to PM me or ask in the Fanclub.





IC: Major Beskaryc "Iron Hand" Taab
en route to his quarters

Misty eyed behind his T-Visor, Taab navigated the stark corridors of the Intrepid as he tapped his son's buy'ce (helmet) clipped to his belt absentmindedly with the finger of his left hand. Things weren't supposed to be this way. He was supposed to fight, to kill, it was all he knew. But he was never to have killed his own son. He blamed the Empire for that, for putting him in a situation where he had been forced to take his son's life. Now at least he was in the best position to wreak his vengeance upon that Empire. It was the best, the only, way to honor the memory of Atin Taab.

A hatch to his left opened suddenly, swinging inwards before the form of Commander Kryze emerged. Her own beskar'gam (mandalorian armor) was somewhat disheveled, with her buy'ce cradled in her arms and the collar it would affix to in order to seal her suit, undone. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sight of Taab before narrowing in anger. "You're in the wrong corridor." she stated flatly. Taab cocked his head to one side, looking at the hatch as it slammed shut now, leaving the two of them alone in the corridor. The nametape on the doorway said Flight Officer Burke, but Taab was unaware of any Burke in the Black Sheep. Looking around the corridor he realized that Kryze was right, he had wandered into the wrong corridor, these were the quarters for the Intruders. He shrugged, unsure as to why she was so hostile, unless of course he had caught her doing something she shouldn't have been doing. That is, leaving the quarters of a subordinate officer after what had apparently been some post mission R&R. He shrugged again. "Your secret is safe with me," he muttered quietly. He didn't care what went on between two consenting adults, they weren't his chain of command anyway. That didn't seem to placate the woman whose eyes flashed in anger.

"di'kutla mando'ade (stupid Mandalorian), you Black Sheep killed two of my men!" She looked like she wanted to hit Taab, but was unable to with her hands wrapped around her buy'ce. Only now did Taab realize she was using it as a sort of bucket, and it was filled with various small items. Two bottles (one half empty) of Corellian brandy, a deck of sabacc cards, a lighter and what appeared to be a bottle of cologne. What was she doing? To Taab it seemed perhaps he had not interrupted the retreat from an ill advised tryst so much as discovered a thief. "If you had finished your mission on time Burke and Samno would still be alive!" She was shouting now, and Taab half expected other hatchways in the corridor to open to see what was going on, but they all stayed dogged shut.

Glaring at Kryze through his T-Visor Taab shook his head. "If they were worthy pilots, they would be alive anyway." It was perhaps not the best thing to say to a squadron commander who had just lost two pilots, but Taab wasn't going to back down from a fight, especially with a fellow Mandalorian. That sent Kryze into a rage, and she dropped her bucket to shove Taab up against the bulkhead, a blade extending with a solid *THUNK* from her right gauntlet. "You take that back, you take that back right now!" Her eyes were filled with tears. Taab lashed back at her, knocking the blade away from his throat even as she kicked at him, dislodging Atin's helmet from his belt. The pair grappled for a moment, but in the confined space of the corridor the issue wasn't in doubt. Taab was bigger and stronger, though in a moment of clarity he had to admit that if the fight had been out in the open she may have had him, and soon he had her pinned against the bulkhead with her arms behind her back.

"They're dead because the Empire killed them, not us." He surprised himself by referring to the Black Sheep as us. "Not us." he reiterated again as he held her arms behind her back. "Understand?" Kryze relented with a curt nod of the head though Taab still didn't release her. "Now what are you doing with all of this?" Taab indicated the items which had fallen out of her buy'ce when she had dropped it. Luckily the heavy glass bottles hadn't broken when they had hit the deck.

"They're..." she started slightly out of breath. "They're for the auction." The answer surprised Taab and he released her. He had expected her to say something along the lines of those men obviously not needing those items now that they were dead, and he would have understood. Plundering the dead was an age old and practical tradition among the Mandalorians. Some plunder was useful, others just trophies. These items seemed to belong more to the former category, but it still surprised Taab to hear she was just going to auction them off for credits. "Auction?" he asked, perplexed as she bent down low to collect what she had spilled and place her booty back in her buy'ce.

"It's an Intrepid tradition," she began, more exasperated now than upset. "We auction off the belongings of the dead and send the cash to their next of kin." She rolled her eyes at him and Taab understood now what she was doing in Burke's quarters. Across the corridor he could see the nametape of flight Officer Samno, Kryze's next obvious destination. "Your squadron ought to try it," She reached over and picked up Atin's helmet from where it was rolling around on the deck. It wouldn't have gone unnoticed by her that he was lugging around a second buy'ce, one that clearly didn't fit his armor's color scheme yet was marked by the same subdued clan sigil as his own armor bore. "It gives a sense of closure." She handed the red and black helmet to him as a new question formed on her lips. "The Empire?"

Taab took the proffered buy'ce and clipped it back in it's place on his belt, giving only a slight nod as he mumbled, "nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la." to himself. She nodded her own understanding at that. "Seems we've all lost something to them." She stood now, the items for auction having been collected. "Auction is a part of the wing memorial service, in the lounge." She eyed him carefully. She knew why he was still wearing his bucket, it was to hide the tears streaking down his face. "You should take part...better than lugging the dead along with you." With that she pushed past him and into FO Samno's room to collect more tribute from the dead.

​

IC: Colonel Paule Teague (NPC)
Pilot's lounge

"Make a hole," Colonel Paule Teague cried out in the crowded corridor as he made his way quickly from the bridge to the Pilot's Lounge. Scores of officers and enlisted personnel pressed themselves up along the bulkheads of either side of the corridor, making way for the Intrepid's Executive Officer. He knew where he was headed, and they knew where he was headed. The ship's space combat wing had been in combat, and pilots had been lost. That meant the squadrons would be raising their glasses to honor the dead, and where ever a glass of alcohol was to be raised, COL Teague would be sure to show up. By the time he arrived he had expected things to be well under way, allowing him to get what he wanted from the bar with little fuss. It meant he might miss the auction, but there was usually not much there worth bidding on anyway. Though he had heard that FO Burke kept a stash of Correllian brandy on hand. He rubbed his chin as he entered the lounge, wondering if he could get in on that or if it was too late.

Entering the lounge, he was surprised that things had barely started, though there was already a crowd. All of Viper squadron was here, as was the CAG. The Raiders were filing in one by one behind Teague and the room was full of Intruders, though Teague didn't see their commander, Kryze, anywhere just yet. Not that he would miss her if she didn't show up. The Intruder's commanding officer didn't like Teague, she'd made no attempt to hide her contempt of him, and the feeling was mutual from Teague. Her being Mandalorian didn't help. Though they made good liquor, Teague just didn't trust them. Violent hypocritical savages railing on about honor when they exhibited none he thought to himself, knowing that of course they had brought on another with the Black Sheep's own XO. Looking around, Teague didn't see him either, or the Black Sheep's leader, though there were several pilots already here. One of them, a female, was looking at him as though she'd expected him to be someone else when he entered (Flagg perhaps?), but he paid her no mind. Instead he went straight to the bar, which was being run by a junior officer from the Vipers at the moment, and got himself a drink.

"My usual," he ordered to the pilot who grinned and responded cheerfully despite the occasion. "You want a mug of the Dragon's Breath, house rules say it'll have to be cash up front." Teague smiled at the inside joke as the man poured him a mug of the Evil Eye's homebrew. Turning around, the XO took a sip, relishing the way it burned on the way down and further examined the lounge. The CAG was at the front of the room now, speaking on behalf of the dead, how they were here to honor them and how so long as they remembered them they would always be alive. It was the same old bunk each time, and by now Teague barely listened, or maybe that was the Dragon's Breath he thought as he took another sip. Soon enough CAG turned things over to Captain Husk's son, Commander Lee, the leader of Viper squadron. He too made the same old speech, about how they needed to fight so the dead would not have been lost in vain. Teague took another sip, he'd heard this all a thousand times before, and he'd hear it a thousand times again. He shrugged as he chugged the rest of the mug down before setting it back on the bar. "Another," he said through a cough which he scooped up as Commander Kryze entered the lounge, her helmet stuffed with goodies to auction off, including that bottle of brandy he'd heard about.

"Twelveteen credits for the brandy," he called out as he fumbled with his uniform jacket before stumbling forward, bumping into a Devaronian wearing a a tunic style leather flight jacket. Teague's overfilled mug of Dragon's Breath spilled onto that jacket as Teague reprimanded the pilot, obviously one of the new fliers from the Black Sheep. "You made me spill my drink, you should look where you're going..." he jabbed a finger into the Devaronian's face.

TAG: @Vehn @galactic-vagabond422 @Anedon @TheAdmiral @Sarge @Rebecca_Daniels @Mistress_Renata @Chyntuck @Corellian_Outrider @Adalia-Durron @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Kayn "Mean Streak" Balzroth
Exercising His Patience

With a massive exertion of willpower, Kayn restrained himself from biting the finger in front of his face, though his fangs trembled with lust to rend flesh from bone. He's he ship's XO! If I assault him, I'm in the brig, and forget about flying, much less being a flight leader. Don't do it. Don't do it. On the other horn, I can't let him get away with this kind of abuse...

Deliberately slurring his words so he sounded almost as drunk as Teague, he answered, "Oh, frack, sorry Colonel sir, let me get you another." He grabbed for the drink as he turned toward the bar, tripped over his own feet, and stumbled into Teague with neck muscles braced as he swung a horn at the colonel's nose.

TAG: Anybody who's watching

 

IC: Kayn "Flabbergasted" Balzroth
Utterly and Completely

Kayn felt a solid thunk as his horn connected with Teague's face. Vengeance achieved, plausible deniability maintained, and if he wants to make something of it, bring it on!

Then everything got weird. Small arms wrapped around his shoulders from behind, gently but firmly pulling him away from the colonel. And a soft sweet voice cooed in his ear, sort of like Vixen's voice if she was soft and sweet which he knew damned well she wasn't, and did she just call him sweetheart?

Am I drunk? I thought I was just acting drunk! No, I haven't had a drink yet! Maybe she's drunk? No, she was obviously stone cold sober a minute ago and she hasn't had a drink since then either. Why does my head feel fuzzy? I haven't felt this messed up since we were in the gym...

Kayn let himself be drawn away by Amber, feeling hopelessly lost and confused.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron

 

A Combo post between Myself and @Anedon

IC: Ianna Mcear Ethan Malek
Intrepid, Lounge

Ianna deepened the hug, wanting not to let go. They might not have known each other long but, after what they'd been through, they were nearly family.

"I still have that packet Ditch gave me...never ate it though." she help it up still in the unopened package. "Want to split it?" She smiled still unwavering even though inside her heart was hurting.

Ethan nodded and gave Ianna a sad smile as he agreed to her offer.

"Yeah, that would be nice," for a moment he remembered the briefing were Ditch had handed them the packages, only a few hours ago, though it now felt to him as if days had passed. He had used most of his rations on the flight back to the Intrepid, but he was glad that Ianna had hold onto hers for this occasion.

She wiggled the package back and forth, trying to get a good grip on it. It might have been a simple dried snack but, it was still the only thing they had to remember their comrade and leader. She noted the forced smile on Ethan's face, one she'd seen herself in the mirror. There were times she had to make herself smile, she had to keep it she'd made a promise.

She finally tore it open taking great care to tear the contents in half. She wasn't successful but, she still gave her wingmate the larger piece.

The young woman held up her part, still smiling though the start of tears could be seen.

"To Ditch, and Turncoat. May their names be remembered." She felt a pang of regret, she'd never talked to Turncoat, never got to know him. It felt hollow to honor him without ever even talking to him.

"May they be remembered", Ethan agreed as he took a bite of the dried meat. It tasted like nothing to him as his thoughts lingered with his fallen companions.

"I know pretty much nothing about them," he muttered more to himself than to Ianna. He had only known them for such a brief time, that he had barely talked to them. Now he wished he had, he wished he had known more about them and what had brought them into the rebellion.

He promised himself he would try to find out more about them, maybe other pilots of the squadron had known them better or he would find something in the Intrepids holo archives.

Noticing the tears in Ianna's eyes, Ethan laid his hand on her shoulder, but he found no words to comfort her.

As Ethan laid a hand on her shoulder the smile deepened but, the tear finally fell. He didn't say anything but, he didn't need to, they were both just trying to get through this. Though he was clearly much better at taking losses. She took a bite, tearing it with her teeth. It was good...really good. It would taste better if her nose wasn't getting stuffed up.

"I'm fine...really." she wiped the tear away not dropping her smile. "We'll get the Empire for this, for Hoth, for all our losses. We'll pay them back for it right." Looking around the space was a lot more occupied than before.

"Wow...there's a lot of people here now." She hadn't seen most of these people before, the majority really. Joy and Lou were either not there or hidden by the mass of bodies. Her shorter stature didn't help much with that. Around her she heard a whispered word.

'Auction'

Her face soured...An Auction, here for what, and with what pay. She didn't have time to think about it as the CAG...what did that mean again began to speak. The room seemed to quiet Ianna along with them. She didn't leave Veteran's side she didn't know if it was for his comfort or not but, she didn't want anyone to be alone right now. Lou and Joy could always hang together but, Ethan needed her...or did she need Ethan, his cold, unaffected nature that balanced her warm emotional self. She stood silently as one speech turn into two and she fought to keep the tears from her eyes. Tears wouldn't bring them back but, it still hurt pained her heart to think about the loss they'd suffered.

The speeches came to a close and people began milling about when she heard a crash, and shouting. She stood on her toes, nearly jumping up and down to try and see what was going on.

"I can't see, what's going on?"

Ethan stretched his neck to get a better look at the shouting. He saw the Devaronian pilot being held back by one of the other squad members, while another man in the uniform of an officer held his nose.

"Seems the Devaronian is causing trouble," he told Ianna who still tried to see something.

During his time as a mercenary Ethan had worked with Devaronians and he remembered their short temper. Maybe the officer had said or done something that had hurt the pilots pride.

For brief moment Ethan thought back to his instructors back on Eriadu, who would severely punish every recruit or soldier causing trouble within the ranks of the ORSF. Any unit is worthless without its discipline, they had used to tell him.

"Ohhh..." Ianna replied stretching her neck to try and see, "I think that's Mean...Mean..." she knew who it was at least by sight. The Devaronian, the laserbrain that tried to turn Foodie into war droid. "Meanie. He's one of ours..." her face sours a little, she didn't want to help him, want to save him but, he was still one of their squadron. "Should we help...he is one of ours."

"Maybe we should try to defuse the situation before it comes out of hand. And save Meanie from getting into even more trouble." During his many years as a soldier Ethan had experienced many situations like this, and since his promotion into the rank of an officer it had been his duty more than once to dissolve them. He knew that if he stayed calm and talked to the hurt officer he probably would have the best chances to get his squadmate out of the fire without gaining the ire of the higher officers.

"Well," Ianna took a breath, "Shall we." she offered her arm. "I'm not good a defusing things but, I have my smile." Her grin deepened though most could see that it wasn't completely genuine.

Ethan returned Ianna's smile for a moment before taking her arm and making his way towards the turmoil. When he reached them he gave the young woman holding the Devaronian back a short nod, before addressing the colonel.

"Sir, Sergeant Ethan Malek. I must apologize for the actions of my squad member. He has a pretty unstable personality and I think the battle and now this ceremony might have been too much for him. I'm sure once he has calmed himself down again he will apologize to you formally." Then he turned around and gave the Devaronian a urging look.

Ianna continued to smile.

"I'm sure Meanie is very sorry. We've been through a lot." She thought nothing of using her made up nickname for her X-Wing flying compatriot. Though a little part of her was taking a dig at him.

TAG: @Sarge @Adalia-Durron @Bardan_Jusik (Anyone Else)

 

IC: Kayn "Puppet on a String" Balzroth
Getting Played Like a Cheap Electro-Fiddle

Vixen was hissing in his ear, in words and tone much more Vixen-like. That was almost a relief. Then more Black Sheep showed up, one of the few surviving X-wing pilots, the old guy, what was his name, and the funny little farmgirl with the Patriots jersey. She was smiling again, but not at him. As usual, she smiled at everyone else, but not Kayn. Why is it that someone who likes everybody doesn't like me?

"Sir, Sergeant Ethan Malek. I must apologize for the actions of my squad member. He has a pretty unstable personality and I think the battle and now this ceremony might have been too much for him. I'm sure once he has calmed himself down again he will apologize to you formally."

"I'm sure Meanie is very sorry. We've been through a lot."

Kayn stared at the two squadron mates for a moment, feeling betrayed. Hadn't they seen and heard what happened? It's not my fault! This drunken sot ruined my jacket and blamed me for it! And now they want me to apologize? Why should I do that?

He blinked in surprise as the answer dawned on him. If he didn't apologize, he would make them out to be liars. And if he did apologize, well, that might help all of the Black Sheep stay out of trouble.

Kayn sighed, gritted his teeth, and looked Teague in the eye. "Sorry about that, sir. Won't happen again." Because I'll be watching you like a hungry hawkbat to make sure you never get another chance to do that to me ever again, Colonel.

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Anedon @galactic-vagabond422

 

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari
Location: Intrepid - Pilot’s Lounge

"Come here you, you be alright now…" Wystari followed Amber's lead and placed a strong arm about Kayn's shoulders to caution him from escalating things further and gently lead him away. He looked back and gave a friendly smile and nod as to assure everything is under control.

"Good that you made an apology even though we both know the fault lies with the Colonel. You've shown some panache, I give you that. Impressive display though a little sloppy on the follow through." He kept his voice low so that only Kayn could hear him. He kept an eye on the reflective surfaces at the bar to watch Amber and the two squad mates diffusing the situation with the Colonel. "Personally, would have brushed it off unless he took it further. Then he be marked as an instigator and it be all on him when the senses returns and you be in the clear. We are all in this together so don't you worry, you'll get your moment to show them up and shine."

TAG: Kayn , Amber , Ianna ,Ethan , open

 

IC: Kayn "Mean Streak" Balzroth
Simmering Down

Suddenly Skipper was leading Kayn away from the confrontation. Where did he come from? I need to be more alert; tunnel vision gets people killed. What's he saying?

"...so don't you worry, you'll get your moment to show them up and shine."

That was good advice. Skipper had proven he was trustworthy. Kayn would go along with him.

"Thanks, Skipper. You're a good wingman. That's not the first time you've gotten us out of a jam. I owe you. All the Black Sheep owe you, and every one who was out there today knows it."

He took a deep breath and blew away the frustrations and tensions of the day. That didn't work totally, but it helped.

"I should get back to making some music. First request is yours, Skipper. What do you want to hear?"

TAG: @Corellian_Outrider

 

IC: Akiva Lurell AKA 'Wolf'
Come for the wake, stay for the entertainment / auction

The Twi'lek bartender had dropped a bottle and glass before leaving her post. Akiva couldn't help but lift an eyebrow at the display. "No tip." she simply whispered as she lifted the bottle and sniffed the contents. It was no wonder the whole ship was on alert with service like that. Although now that she watched the Twi'lek walk away she looked oddly familiar, wasn't there a Twi'lek in the black sheep that color? Shrugging it off she had focused waiting for the replacement bartender.

When he finally showed up she ordered something strong and fiery as possible. The swill the woman had left was too weak to be used as a weapon. Luckily the man seemed to know what to give her with a strong something fiery from the ships own distillery. Not too long later and the place was getting crowded, so she hung to the side of the bar and waited.

Soon Colonel Paule Teague, was making a big entrance. The Colonel made his way through and got his own gut rot as Akiva added a little bit of powdered enzymes to hers, it wasn't long before it seemed the Colonel decided to start the bidding and started a ruckus. Staying back she maneuvered to the side, keeping herself out of visual association with the 'gang' of save the Devorian musician.

Still, after the second or third member of the squad seemed to flock around she sighed in consternation. She didn't know who would be her new wing, possibly one of these, and she did feel a slight pay forward for her surviving wingmate. Sidling about the far side she caressed one hand across the Colonels shoulders whilst using her two free left hands to push a swap of the spilled drink with a free full one of hers. By now the powder was well dissolved and shouldn't be noticed, not until later. "Sir, let me give you that refresh." she spoke softly.

TAG: @Sarge, @Bardan_Jusik , @Adalia-Durron , Open

 

~IC~ Captain Cassell “Skipper” Wystari
Location: Intrepid - Pilot’s Lounge

"Glad to have been of service." Wystari pursed his lips and gave a faint smile at Kayn upon hearing that they owe him. "Don't mention it and we all played a part. I believe we saved more lives in the squadron by our actions regardless at what was said in the debriefing."

"As for the music request… what is appropriate?" He glanced about the gathering. "'Time in a Bottle' is a classic… but that could be taken either way although those we lost... we hardly knew ye to want to spend eternity with… Hmmm… 'Farewell and Adieu'… the same with 'The Parting Glass'… can bring people a bit down…" He shook his head. "No… we want something to drink and be merry… maybe here's a "Health to the Company"… an old folksong. That would be perfect. How about we do this together and I'll lend my voice?"

Spoiler: song time!

​

TAG: Kayn, open

 

In-Character: CWO Sage Enzo Parvil

Music: The Master Switch

Two Weeks Prior...
Battle of the Planet Hoth
Rebel Corvette Sheldrake

“Twenty-five more seconds!” The navigator called out as another barrage of turbolaser fire raked the corvette.

<“Three Eyeballs closing at one-seven-over-four! Shift jamming!”> The sensor operator said in Sullustese.

“Wilts be gone before they get here. ‘trons still on the sec-conn cue-sur.” The Wolatarian at the electronic warfare station replied back in their hard accented Basic to the Sullustan sensor operator. “Targets ack switching freq ‘n pulse rate at fify cycles now; blanket ‘trons on one-fife and above.”

Their twelve fingers dashed across the control screens, rerouting power, changing frequencies, antenna gain, and waveforms to attempt to reduce the accuracy of the attacking Imperial cruiser's fire as much as possible. The ship rocked again and the lights flickered. The young human shield operator which sat next to them was flush faced and dripping perspiration.

“P-P-Port shield is 2%, we’re gonna lose it!” He said, his voice cracking as he fumbled with the control board, and began to reroute power to the failing port shields. He rapidly struck the screens too fast for them to respond, selecting and deselecting the power nodes twice, before finally selecting two power couplings and the shield projector. He went to palm the ‘SUBMIT’ command.

“Ten seconds!”

The electronic warfare suite of the ship was doing all it could, and with seconds until their hyperspace jump, Sage calmly settled back and let the automation run. It was this break of their attention from the screen that allowed them to take in the set of commands that the shield operator was about to submit to the power router. Sage didn’t even bother to vocalize a warning. One of their arms struck the sensor operator hard enough to send him toppling out of his chair, as another hand tapped the screen to unselected one of the power couplings. They held one long finger above the submit button and waited. As the stars through the viewscreen turn to long lines, they tapped the ‘CANCEL’ command before slowly turning at the human shield operator who was struggling to his feet. The bridge crew began to look towards the disturbance at the E-WAR suite in confusion and concern.

“Idiot,” Sage said as they crawled over the shield operator’s seat towards the human that was just making it back to their feet. “Yous a gods-frakin’ idiot is what yous are. Ya would have killed us all.”

“I-I-I’m sor--” The human petty officer stammered, completely unsure of what he had done to earn the Warrant Officer’s ire.

“Ya’s a sorry piece of shav that’s for sure!” Sage’s normally low voice raising in intensity. The COs voice broke their attention on the sniveling human for a moment.

“Warrant! Stand down, now!” She boomed from the conn. Sage’s torso spun towards her and their right arms pointing accusingly at the shield operator.

“This idiot was gonna kill us.” Sage their voice returning to normal tone and turned back towards the shield operator, who was a good ten centimeters taller than them. “Five seconds to jump and this fraker was going to dump the power from the hyperdrive to refresh the port shield.”

The human’s face went ashen and a murmur went around the bridge. “I’m sor--sorry.”

“Oh, not yet ya aren’t. Ya pathetic shav. Ya haves no clue what you doin’ here, do ya?” Sage’s voice began to rise again and they close the distance, rising up as tall as they could make themselves to get right in the face of the young human. This was not the first time the Petty Officer had collided with the older Warrant. The previous shield operator had been a competent Bothan Chief Petty Officer who, like Sage, seemed to be at their best when things were at their worst. When she was crushed by an automatic cargo lift in a bizarre, loading bay accident, the replacement was far less than ideal. The young second class was barely twenty, and even during training exercises would panic and fumble commands. The commanding officer had heard Sage’s multiple complaints about the kid, but assured him that they would have him a capable systems operator by the time they saw combat again. That was before the emergency evacuation of the Hoth system. With no additional training evolutions the crew was thrust into combat on their escape out of the system.

While this wasn’t the first time that the Wolatarian warrant officer had gotten in the human’s face, there was a different level to the anger being displayed which was clear to the crew who had witnessed these confrontations before. The young petty officer’s reaction went from cowering to defensive and he made the second biggest mistake of his day.

“Hey, back off worm!” He bellowed, voice cracking, as he shoved Sage in the center of their upright torso. This did little to move the thirty stone Wolatarian, who looked down at their chest and then back up at the young human with an incredulous stare. “I said I was--”

At their court martial, Sage would maintain they recalled nothing that occurred in the next few seconds. The bridge’s security holocams, however, captured it in vivid detail.

The grisly *crack-crunch* was echoing in the minds of the bridge crew for hours after it happened. The right-hook of Sage’s upper right fist struck the human with enough force that it snapped their lower jaw bone in two places and cracked and dislodged half a dozen teeth. The human spun in place, managing to catch themselves for a moment, staggering back, lower face distorted with dark red blood running out over their lower lip. Coughing once with a sickening gurgle, a splash of blood and teeth struck the floor only a moment before their limp body. It was over before the slack-jawed bridge crew could even blink.

“Security alert, security alert! Security and medical team to the bridge!”

--

Sage would also state at the court martial that they could not recall the stun-blast which subdued them, only waking up staring at the overhead lights of the cell in the brig.

“You could have killed him.”

“What’d I’s do?”

“Clocked Hatshi hard enough to break his kriffin’ jaw in at least two places; probably knocked out half his teeth. They’ve got him sedated while they try to piece the poor son of a shav’s face back together,” a male Twi’lek, Chief Keb'kijon said, rising from the bench and walking over the the cell bars. Sage rolled over and off the bed-slab and shook themselves to stretch out their cramped muscles.

“Self-defense.” They muttered

“Self-defense would have been shoving him back and having him put in cuffs for striking a commissioned officer. By the Force, there was blood splatters on the other side of the frakkin’ bridge. You should know humans are fragile creatures.”

<”Then perhaps they should remember that before they pick a fight.”> Sage muttered in in native tongue, and continued in Basic. “How many times did I’s hit ‘ems?”

“Once.”

“Self-defense, I’s say.”

“You technically hit him first...and they don’t like you.”

“They don’t needs to like me. They needs me.”

“...not as much as you seem to think.”

--

Turns out they didn’t seem to need him at all. The commanding officer, LCDR Leikri Bathche of the Sheldrake, had been looking to get rid of the Wolatarian since she took the post two months prior. She had clashed with Sage repeatedly as the executive officer and although the previous CO liked the Wolatarian well enough, once he left to be the commander of the task force, LCDR Bathche, made no effort to hide her animosity towards them. It wasn’t that Sage had problems with authority, per se, but they did come off arrogant and dismissive of others’ opinions, and the LCDR took this as a personal insult.

And so, in overseeing the court martial, LCDR Bathche, was hardly an impartial judge. She wasted no time passing a guilty verdict and sentencing Sage to six months in the brig, followed by expulsion from the Alliance. She had the Wolatarian flown off her ship as soon as possible, to serve out his sentence in the brig of one of the larger Nebulon B-class frigates.

The brig was worse than the various prisons that Sage has spent their life in and out of. Not that the Alliance was cruel to their prisoners, it was just that there was nothing to do. There was no recreational area where the could toss ball with other inmates. There was no one, except whomever was the master-at-arms, to talk with, and even that was limited. After only a week, Sage was convinced they would go mad before their sentence was over.

It was in the second week when they received their first and only visitor, CDR Wheeler. Sage was reading a flimsiplast book when the cell door opened and she walked in.

“Warrant Parvil?”

“Private Parvil.”

“Ah, yes. Reduction to Grade One, Six Months Confinement, and Substandard Conduct Discharge, all for...Malicious Wounding, Felony One Assault, and Conduct Unbecoming of an Officer,” she said, reading his confinement file. “Tell me, Parvil, would you like your rank reinstated? Would you like to continue to serve the Alliance?”

“That I would. Was I’s appeal approved?” They asked somewhat suspiciously.

“We’re bypassing the appeals process, Warrant. You work for me now. I will see to it that the paperwork is in order to have you transferred to the carrier Intrepid tomorrow.”

“And who do ya's work for?”

“The Alliance; as we all do.”​

Present Day...
Rebel Alliance Carrier Intrepid
Port Side Hangar Bay

As the gate lowered on the shuttle, the escorting master-at-arms removed the binders from Sage’s arms.

“You are free to go now. I apologize for the restraints. It’s just protocol,” he said. Sage responded with a shrug, and moved to release their cargo pod with their few remaining possessions. The bulk of the small levitating cube was taken up with their astromech droid, whom they looked forward to taking out of hibernation. The other thing they looked forward to having back, was their handgun. They had first carrying a little slugthrower when they were only thirteen, and every time they had got out of jail in the past, one of the first things they looked for, was a new slugthrower or blaster. The tunnels and bi-ways of their homeworld were dangerous, and having a piece on them brought a small sense of security, regardless of its legality. They weren’t sure what to expect, but they hoped this ship didn’t relegate all personal weapons to the armoury, as the Sheldrake did.

After pushing the cargo cube down the ramp, Sage stood around unsure as to what to expect. The hangar was loud and smelled of sweet mechanical fluids and bitter ozone. An odd humanoid whom Sage couldn’t quite identify the race of, wearing a red and black checked flight suit stood idly by as well, probably wondering the same thing that Sage was. Finally a human male approached them.

"Warrant Officer Parvil and Flight Officer Quin; welcome to the Black Sheep," he said, looking at Sage with the look they were accustomed to; a look of “what is that thing?”. Though they were used to it, it was still a bit off-putting. Before Sage could say anything, the Flight Officer did.

"I'm--uhh--I'm supposed to be over there," she said, pointing across the hangar, and then handed a set of flemsiplast to the male human. He took the flimsiplast and compared it to his datapad.

"Not anymore. Situation has changed and you're assigned to me now," he said. ‘Oh,’ Sage thought. ‘So, this is the squadron commander.’

"In fact, you two are going to be flying together now," he continued. The humanoid female and Sage looked to one another. Sage finally figured out what she was; a Zeltron.

"I'm Quin," she said with a large smile that was more than a little unnerving. She extended her hand to Sage, "but everyone calls me Harley. Nice to meetcha!"

“Sage Parvil, aus-le’ta’saut” they said in Wola, clasping her hand with their upper right and cocked their head all the way to the right. This was a friendly gesture between Wolatarians, though they had long realized it was lost on most other species. “Is good to meet ya’s as well.” He turned back to the squadron commander. “Wells, sir, what platform wilts we two be operating?”​

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik

 

Maxime Pallas (staying out of this mess)
Pilots’ Lounge, Intrepid

Max was still exhausted, and so she nursed her one drink carefully. She listened soberly to the speeches, and raised her glass in a toast at appropriate times, taking only a sip. She’d make to the end of this (incredibly delicious) rum that Captain Wystari had brought, but she planned to skip the auction as well as Balzroth’s party. Her mattress was calling to her.

She glanced over at Malek. This would be the appropriate time to honor those lost on the No Deal and the Omarian Star, but he was deep in conversation with Ioanna and Max didn’t feel comfortable breaking in. An older man in uniform pushed past her towards the bar. She frowned at his rudeness… and the smell. He’d obviously been making memorial toasts for some time. She caught a glimpse of his insignia and finally recognized him. Teague, the ship’s XO. She hoped he wasn’t just coming off duty. As the memorial ended, Teague moved towards the officers at the front.

"Twelveteen credits for the brandy!" he bellowed, pushing his way through the crowd. Max could see some of the officers with a pile of goods.

“What is this?” she asked a man standing near her. His squadron patch indicated he was one of the Vipers.

“Ships’ auction,” he replied. “They auction off the personal effects of the people we lost today, send the creds to their families, if they have any.”

It seemed ghoulish to Max, although it made sense. The partisans tended to live with their families, coming together for a mission before hiding back in civilian life. You couldn’t do that on a ship, she supposed. And then Teague was falling into Balzroth, splashing his mug all over the Devaronian. "You made me spill my drink, you should look where you're going...”

A lot happened quickly, then. Kayn moved, stumbled, knocking his head against the man, causing him to reel back, clutching his nose. Blood was pouring out between his fingers. Tehanis got up, wrapped her arms around Kayn and spoke to the drunken colonel in a soft, girly voice. Max blinked. She had no idea that Kayn was romantically involved with the sulky redhead.

Malek and Ioanna moved forward, too, to join the group, talking to Teague, while Tehanis pulled Kayn away further. Captain Wystari moved towards them, wrapping his arm around Kayn’s other shoulder while talking to Teague. The Colonel was moving back towards the bar, still clutching his nose. Max could hear him cursing under his breath.

She moved to the far side of the bar, found a clean cloth, wet it, and wrapped a few ice cubes in it. When the Colonel arrived, she held it out to him, wordlessly. He put it to his nose, and turned to glare in Kayn’s direction. Max edged away. She could see Lurell eyeing Teague speculatively, and then bared her teeth in a distinctly unnerving grin.

"Sir, let me give you that refresh," she said in a throaty voice. Max would personally have never accepted a drink from someone smiling like that, but Teague took it, throwing it back.

Max finished her own drink, and froze, listening. Balzroth was playing a tune, familiar, and he and Wystari were singing. The words were in Basic, but Max recognized them, an old Corellian tune.

“Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme…” She caught her breath as a hand squeezed inside her chest and her throat, as memories rushed back. How many times had she heard that? At least once a month her grandparents would have an open house. All the family there, her parents, her aunts and uncles, friends, employees…

“Let's drink and be merry, all grief to refrain…” There was always lots of food, and drinking, dancing, some gaming… In the winter, her father would light a fire on the ancient stone hearth, and Great Aunt Abla would make a great pot of spiced muja cider.

And everyone would sing. This was a favorite song of her grandfather. She could hear the lyrics now, as Kayn and Wystari and many of the others in the room sang them. “Here's a health to the wee lass that I love so well…” Her grandfather would give her a squeeze at this line. She was the only grandchild, and she knew he was proud of her. How long had it been since she’d been home? Ten years? Were any of them even still alive? They had all loved her so, and she hadn’t been allowed to contact them, to let them know she was okay and that she loved them and missed them.

Grief and longing overwhelmed her. She finished the rest of her rum in a gulp and began to move quickly towards the door. She needed to get out of here. She needed to sleep, so that she could forget again.

TAG: Anyone

 

OOC: The following NPC is GM approved. If you're interested his CS is in the resource thread.

IC: Louise "Lou" Gray
Hangar Bay
Intrepid

Lou, under the gentle guidance of a few beers, wandered down to the hangar bay to personally inspect her wishbone. It wasn't that the didn't trust the mechanics to repair her craft and make it ready for combat it was that she knew her craft better than anyone and wanted to supervise some of the more intricate repair work.

She spotted her Y-Wing immediately. It was the one that looked like it'd taken a beating and that was saying something for the aging bomber. The canopy had already been popped off, numerous fuselage parts were littered around the floor exposing wiring, sensors, and other sensitive equipment. Several technicians milled about with datapads in hand and tools nearby. She gave a weak wave as C-8, her astromech, rolled over and warbled an update that had more bad news than good.

"That bad, huh?" Lou said as she ran a hand across the battered fuselage.

C-8 gave out a mournful warble. The astromech then blurted out something else which made Lou's expression change from contemplation to frustration.

"What!" Lou exclaimed.

C-8 repeated the information.

Lou, fuming, walked to the rear of her Y-Wing and found a pair of legs, resting on a cart, sticking out from under the port engine housing. She hauled off and kicked the cart out from under the man and heard a satisfying clang as a hydrospanner dropped to the hangar floor. The man cursed and slowly dragged himself out from under the engine. His face fell into light and recognition.

"You," Lou snarled.

***
Two Years Prior
Tesserone
Roon

The Lambda-class shuttle quietly touched down on the landing pad outside the country manor. Airen quickly flipped through the shut down sequence as his thoughts drfited to his friend. He made his way back to the cargo hold and checked on Myn Kolvaard's status. He was in and out of consciousness. His health had deteriorated since leaving the Death Star hours before. Fluid was starting to settle in Myn's lungs and the internal bleeding had gotten worse.

Airen gently lifted his friend off the bed and walked down the landing ramp into brilliant sunlight. He blinked hard, his eyes fighting to adjust to the first natural light in months, and heard Myn groan. His breathing was becoming more ragged.

"I can get you to a hospital. There's still time to save you," Airen said as he carried mine to the back lawn.

Myn groaned and shook his head. "No time," he replied. "You would be turned in by the authorities."

"Set me down over there," Myn said pointing with a limp hand.

Airen made his way to a small grove of trees overlooking the surrounding countryside. He gently placed Myn in the shade with his upper torso resting against one of the trunks facing a view that was absolutely breathtaking. Airen didn't say a word. He didn't have to. He'd never seen anything so beautiful in all his years. The flowing grasslands to the north, the imposing mountains to the west, the glimmer of the capital city of Nime to the east, and the rolling farmland to the south. It was paradise save for one problem: his friend was dying.

Myn reached underneath his tattered tunic and pulled out a datapad. The back side was scraped and the screen in front was cracked. Airen was surprised it had survived the X-wing attack. Myn coughed and shook violently as he handed the datapad to Airen.

"Read it," Myn said.

Airen opened the article on the datapad and read the document. It was the last will and testament of Myn Kolvaard. When Airen had finished reading there were tears in his eyes. His hand shook as he set the datapad down on the ground and he reached out and clutched his friend tightly to him.

"Tesserone is yours," Myn whispered, his breathing become harder and harder now. "Take care of it, will you?"

"I will. I promise you that I shall take care of this place with every ounce of energy I possess. This home shall be my home. Now and forever. That is my oath to you," Airen solemnly replied.

Myn pulled away and as he did so he added, "There's one more thing."

"Name it," Airen said.

"You must take care of my sister, Lou," Myn said, "you must take care of her even if she refuses your help. This place is hers just as much as it is yours. You must find a way to work together."

Airen remembered a discussion he'd had with Myn regarding his sister back on the Death Star. She was a former Imperial who was now fighting with the Rebellion. The details of the will came back to him now. Myn had stated joint ownership. Airen was to share in the property with Louise Kolvaard.

"I'll find a way. I promise you," Airen replied.

Myn sighed and allowed his eyes to drift toward the horizon. "What a life I have lived. I am thankful to be home. I think I'll rest here for awhile...."

Airen returned his attention to the land and suddenly felt incredibly alone. He looked back at Myn and noticed that he had passed, eyes frozen on some distant point on the horizon. Airen felt a roar of grief fly through him as he wept near his friend's body. He had nobody in the universe. Nobody at all.

Airen Vehn was alone.

***
Tesserone, Roon

Louise Gray, born Kolvaard, sat quietly in the back seat of a taxi as she made her way out to the old family estate of Tesserone. An estate that had been dormant for generations. She hadn't been back in years. She was surprised anyone cared about the place. The land was nearly barren. The house was falling down. The only thing worth remembering was the incredible views of the Roonian countryside.

Louise, Lou, as her friends called her, looked down at her datapad at the message that blared to the surface of the screen and refused to go away. "Unidentified shuttle has landed at Tesserone. The shuttle appears to be of Imperial origin. Two Imperial officers were seen by the security firm approaching the estate."

Lou had received the message from the outdated security system that guarded the old estate. The droids must've been working overtime or else their circuits had malfunctioned. She knew that Myn was away fighting for the Empire. The last message she'd received from him had been a month ago. He was stationed somewhere that had been redacted and was doing well. Either way, something was going on.

The taxi slowed to a halt outside the front entrance. Lou paid her fare, tipped the droid, and got out. She stood in the driveway and hesitated not wanting to go forward. A flood of memories hit her hard. She'd played in the gardens just to the right of the entrance. She'd had her first kiss underneath the archway leading to the motor pool. She'd squeezed her brother goodbye before he left home for good right here in the circular drive.

Those times were long gone.

Lou spotted the Imperial shuttle parked out back and pulled out her blaster pistol. Something didn't feel right. She half expected to run into a company of stormtroopers as she went around the back of the house and passed the shuttle. Instead, she found one set of footprints heading into the grove of trees overlooking much of the acreage. Confused, Lou followed the trail of footprints and what she saw at the end of them made her collapse to the ground in grief.

""That's my brother! Get away from him!"" Lou cried out and pointed her blaster pistol at the Imperial officer before her.

Airen turned just as he finished digging the grave for his best friend. He let the shovel fall from his hands as he raised them in a gesture of peace. His tattered and dirty Imperial uniform made him the enemy. He could see it in the eyes of the woman who had collapsed to her knees in grief and anger right before him. She hated him. Worse, still, she had a blaster pistol in her hand and had him dead to rights.



Airen felt the words that he wished to say escape his lips. All he could do was stare at the business end of the blaster pistol. His eyes were red from all the crying. His face was covered in dirt. He started to feel like maybe he should've dug a grave for the two of them. Then, and only then, would he perhaps be forgiven for failing to save Myn's life.

"I mean you no harm. I am burying a friend, Myn Kolvaard," Airen said, "I'm burying my friend. You must be Louise."

"It's Lou. Did you serve with Myn?" Lou asked.

"I did. We fought on Jedha, we fought above Scarif, we fought aboard the Death Star. An X-wing attack during the battle of Yavin fatally wounded him. I did the only thing I could think of, I brought him home," Airen replied.

Lou's gun hand shook and fell to the ground. "Why would you bring him here? This hasn't been our home in years!"

Airen felt like he'd been punched in the gut. "Myn talked so fondly of Tesserone. I brought him home so he could die on the only piece of land that ever mattered to him. I can see why he loved it here. It's beautiful."

"Why does this place matter to you so much?" Lou asked.

"Because it mattered to him," Airen cried out pointing back at Myn's grave. "It mattered to him. You and I are the co-owners of Tesserone, Lou. We are the ones who have a chance at making this property something again!"

"Prove it!" Lou said.

Airen cautiously tossed the datapad in Lou's direction. She read the contract. Her eyes watered with grief. She wasn't ready for this. She wasn't ready to say goodbye to her brother.

"You can't make this property anything," Lou yelled, "it's in arrears. The county is going to tear the whole thing down and till under the land. Unless you have a lot of money somewhere we're done!"

Airen, in his grief and in his anger, threw up his hands and looked away in disgust. He wasn't going to give up. Not that easily. He hadn't survived some of the hardest battles of the war to roll over and quit now. There had to be a solution. There had to be a way out.

An idea came to him. One that he remembered from a conversation he'd had with Myn aboard the Death Star. It was a crazy idea but if it were true, if it were possible, then it might be the answer to the woes of Tesserone.

"What are you thinking?" Lou asked.

"You ever heard of the Jaded Emerald of Solost?" Airen asked. "If one were to get a hold of said gem it could pay off their debts for generations to come."

"You're crazy," Lou said as she stood on her feet and holstered her blaster pistol. "People have died looking for that gem for thousands of years."

"I'm a pretty lucky guy," Airen said as he walked back to the family manor, "and I think I know just where to start my journey."

***

Present Day
Hangar Bay
Intrepid

"What are you doing here, Lou?" Airen asked.

"I could ask you the same thing," Lou replied folding her arms across her chest.

"It's a long story," Airen said.

"I've got some time on my hands," Lou replied.

"I don't," Airen said, "I have to finish these repairs."

"What repairs? This is my wishbone, my bomber!" Lou replied.

"Not right now it isn't," Airen said, "it's under my supervision."

"Since when?" Lou questioned.

"Since I agreed to be your plane captain," Airen shot back and then got on the cart and slid under the engine housing.

"I never agreed to anything!" Lou shouted.

The only response she heard was the whining of a drill removing another set of screws...

Tag: @Bardan_Jusik and No One

 

(This is me testing the waters of running the Mechanics while we wait. Don't feel like you have to respond I just felt like doing this.)

IC: Meili Han
Intrepid, Black Sheep Hangar

Loud driving Glimmik music filled her ears as the burly pantoran woman got to work under a fighter nearly as old as her, maybe older depending on the model. What it was, was definitely in need of Meili's tender love and care. She moved to loosen a bolt and found it a little stuck.

"Who put this…" she said putting some force behind the hydrospanner, "Oh...that's right." It was her, she tightened the bolt, with great aplomb apparently. She took a breath putting an hand on the furthest end of the wrench. With a great heave, the stubborn bolt turned finally coming loose. The former speeder mechanic was still getting used to working on craft that fly more than half a meter off the ground, and to military maintenance requirements. She pulled open the panel to check the coolant pump make sure it wasn't leaking, too much. Looking closely she could see a hastily applied clamp to the outflow tube, it wasn't one Meili put on, she could also see some stress had been put on the old part.

"Little girl what are you doing to my fighter." she muttered to herself referencing the young pilot that had been assigned to this Y-Wing. During the mission that the Black Sheep were sent out on the tech took some time and asked around about this Pilot Officer Mcear. There wasn't a lot people knew about her, other than being very young, and somewhat accident prone. Meili rolled her eyes, great, another reckless kid that doesn't take care of her fighter. Just perfect.

"Hey, we got a coolant pump compatible with a BTL-4 out there." No answer seemed forthcoming but, she took another moment to look at a bit of wiring that was that was soldered together. It was serviceable but, not something you'd want to keep. It seemed there were a lot of things like that. A bit of work here, a patch there, all of it ok and fine in the heat of battle but, not work Meili would have done herself. It was also definitely not something that was there when she sent this thing out before the mission.

Looking at it all, it had to be the astromech, that little green and white droid that followed the girl into battle.

"Pretty smart droid." The mechanic said to herself. "It's not pretty but, gets the job done." It had been a minute and she hadn't heard anything about a replacement coolant pump.

"Hey," she started pulling the earbuds out of her ears,

"I never agreed to anything!" A female voice sounded over the other noises of machinery. Right away the pantoran sild out from under the Y-Wing getting to her feet. She saw a blonde haired human shouting at someone also working on a busted up bomber.

A light chuckle left her chest, it looked like the pretty boy was getting an earful for something. She ran her grease covered hands over with a dirty rag before turning to see a portside stabilizer that looked held together with hope and...was that adhesive. Meili shook her head.

"Little girl you'd best take good care of that droid." She commented picking up another tool from her cherry red tool box with the Arcadia Skull plastered on the side. "Because it is the only reason you made it back in one piece."

After working for a long...long time fixing everything the little girl broke, and the littler droid patched together. She turned to look at the more busted Y-Wing in the berth next to hers. It as well looked like it was holding together on a prayer. Without thinking she closed up her tool box and moved over lend a hand. Sure it wasn't her craft but, it looked like the pretty boy needed all the help he could get.

"So," she started tightening down a loose bolt making sure to go back just a little bit so it wouldn't take two people to loosen it up again. "Lover's spat, or did you cross a line?" she asked.

TAG @Vehn @Bardan_Jusik Any Mechanic that wants to jump in, Lou's bird needs a lot of help

 

IC: Jocelyn “Joy" Sunwalker
Intrepid

Joy opened the door to her cabin and put Carols on the floor. The kitten waddled to her improvised bed kneading the blanket before rolling into a furry ball and fell asleep. There had been enough excitement for one day for her. Joy moved and sat on the cot and rubbed her eyes. She was drained but she had to attend the memorial service. She never enjoyed these things back in the Empire, but here, now it felt more personal as opposed to the more ceremonial and emotionless Imperial version.

She used to have Anais to rely on during these occasions… Anais… She sighed. The fact that she had to face the Skulls was hard enough, but the thought that her former lover might have been there too was almost unbearable. The only hope remained that she was transferred after her defection. Anais, Anais… Joy shook her head, she thought that she had gotten over her, but her feelings were still alive.

A tear trickled down her cheek and she promptly wiped it. She was good at covering her emotions but that came at a cost when alone. They usually hit harder when unbottled but she managed to hide it well. Of course there were moments of weakness like these, but she kept to herself, didn’t want to bother anyone… Or was it that she never trusted anyone? It was hard growing up in the family of such a strong military man like her father. Of course he loved her, but his profession changed him and she was trying to please him. The only emotional support came from her mother. She was a kind woman, a doctor by profession and calling, she helped everyone and Joy could confide in her.

Jocelyn looked down at her own hands. She needed to talk to Wellings, maybe it will be possible to at least save her parents. If they were still alive of course. She was willing to go alone to look for them, just needed the intelligence and some equipment and should be set for the mission. Her father was a potential convert to the Rebel cause and given his position of Admiral should warrant at least some devoting of resources.

Enough musing for now, she needed to go to the service. Joy tied her hair in a ponytail and straightened her tunic. She checked herself in the mirror to see whether her eyes were puffy from the crying. To be on the safe side she splashed some water then dried herself. Should be enough. Good thing her clothes were black, should fit the occasion. Hopefully no one will make the connection to the Imperial uniform that it was similar to.

She left her cabin and strolled towards the area where the service was being held. Hopefully she was not that late. As she reached it she saw Max exiting seeming upset. Joy frowned slightly but did not pursue the matter and just entered. There she saw a Colonel with a bleeding nose and people singing… What the blazes was going on!?

Jocelyn sneaked towards Skipper as she could see Ianna was busy.

"What did I miss?" she whispered to Captain Wystari.

TAG: @Corellian_Outrider , Anyone else

IC: Thorn
Hangar of Intrepid

Thorn finished his inspection of the assigned Y-wing. The blasted Imperial had taken good care of it he had to grudgingly admit. The black astromech was beeping something but he did not pay much attention. The automaton was also Imperial that made his skin crawl remembering the torture droids. He hated the idea of assisting and keeping one of them alive, even if she had joined the Rebel Alliance. They never change, that girl was a gundark in a nerf’s hide.

He opened a side panel near the shields and hooked his datapad to download the telemetry. Needed to check how the shields handled themselves and whether there was power loss somewhere. Maybe tweak them so that they can shut down in a dogfight and get the Imperial killed? He shook his head, that was treasonous, if the Alliance wanted him to keep the woman alive then he will do it. His honor demanded it.

The Togorian’s ears pricked as something caught his attention. People arguing near a banged up Y-wing. He gave a low growl and jumped from the craft and landed on his feet. He then strode towards the source of the noise.

“Will you take your problems somewhere else?” he snarled as he stood behind the Pantoran woman who was already there.

TAG: @Vehn , @Bardan_Jusik, @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: PO3 Lughdyt
Black Sheep Hangar

Lughdyt was personally reloading chaff and flares into Lt Balzroth's A-wing. The Devaronian had managed to burn through all of 7841's countermeasures in one mission, which was way too much in the plane captain's mind. He was almost tempted to let a droid do the monotonous task, but no, he needed to make sure it was done right, so he had unloaded the supplies from the ordinance droid and sent it scurrying back to the munitions bay.

Raised voices caught his attention and he looked around. A Pantoran was talking to a human next to a Y-wing. Then a Togorian stalked over and snarled at them. “Will you take your problems somewhere else?” Lughdyt tensed. Togorians had "predator" all over them, and triggered his defensive instincts. That kind of felinoid tended to see Ugnaughts as prey, and his instinct was to run and hide. But that might trigger the Togorian's hunting habits. Better to not show fear. He swaggered over to the Y-wing, looked up at the Togorian, and said, "Where are we s'posed to take our problems? Ya wanna step outside?" He gestured toward the hangar's magnetic force field and the black vacuum beyond.

TAG: @TheAdmiral @Vehn @galactic-vagabond422

 

IC: Airen Vehn/Louise "Lou" Gray
Intrepid Hangar Bay

Airen cursed as the screw that was attached to his drill bit fell off and clanged to the hangar deck. It was the last one too. He'd spent the last hour servicing, cleaning, and repairing the port exhaust manifold gasket. He stretched out a weary arm and hunted for the last screw, privately frustrated with himself for leaving his magnetic drill bit at home, and that was when he heard Lou shout at him.

"I never agreed to anything!" Airen heard Lou shout.

Airen crawled out from under the port engine and shot Lou a look. "This isn't about agreeing, Lou. This is about keeping your bird up in the air so that you can do what you do best: kill Imperials."

He heard a voice, another mechanic, ask him a question.

"So," she started tightening down a loose bolt making sure to go back just a little bit so it wouldn't take two people to loosen it up again. "Lover's spat, or did you cross a line?" she asked.

"Lover's spat? Hardly. More like a pilot who doesn't want to trust her mechanic to keep her alive," Airen responded. He didn't know the female mechanic's name but he could tell he was in good company. "By the way the name's Airen Vehn. Lou and I have some history."

"I want a full run down of the repairs," Lou demanded, "itemized list, I want to see those old parts come off, I want to know that you're going to keep me safe."

"I made a promise to your brother, Lou," Airen shot back, "to keep you safe no matter what. His dying wish was to make sure I took care of you."

"I don't need taking care of," Lou fired back, "never have and never will. How many times do I have to say it to you? You may be co-owning my family's property but you damn well don't own me."

Airen nodded and looked away. Lou had a bark. He'd have to get used to that.

“Will you take your problems somewhere else?” A Togorian snarled as he stood behind the Pantoran woman who was already there.

Airen was about to fire back a reply, and so was Lou, when someone else entered the verbal fray. This was getting ridiculous.

"Where are we s'posed to take our problems? Ya wanna step outside?"

"Clear out of here, all of you," Lou ordered, "my bird, my mechanic, my problem!"

"Your mechanic?" Airen replied, "now whose owning whom?"

Lou stepped closer to Airen. The pair were mere inches from one another. "You want this to get ugly?" Lou asked.

"Bring it, sister," Airen replied.

Tag: @galactic-vagabond422; @Sarge; @TheAdmiral

 

IC: Meili Han
Intrepid, Black Sheep Hangar

"Lover's spat?" Pretty boy replied, "Hardly. More like a pilot who doesn't want to trust her mechanic to keep her alive," Meili smiled then looked over her shoulder to see the blonde haired woman still there. Her yellow eyes widened. She'd thought the pilot had gone by now. "By the way the name's Airen Vehn. Lou and I have some history."

"Ahhh…" the carratosian said putting the tool back into the box. "Meili Han, I'm going to be…"

"I want a full run down of the repairs," The pilot snapped commanding the other mechanic, "itemized list, I want to see those old parts come off, I want to know that you're going to keep me safe."

"I made a promise to your brother, Lou," Pretty Boy, well she should call him Airen now shouldn't she, bit back, "to keep you safe no matter what. His dying wish was to make sure I took care of you."

'Ok' Meili thought to herself,'I just stepped into something I didn't mean to.'

Just as she was about to get away she bumped into a broad, somewhat furry chest.

"Will you take your problems somewhere else?" It was a snarl from a being taller than her, something she wasn't that accustomed to. The tech cursed under her breath, she was almost out, almost free of this altercation she never wanted to be a part of.

"Where are we s'posed to take our problems? Ya wanna step outside?" A shorter being, an ugnaught, well this was getting more and more interesting.

"Clear out of here, all of you," Lou commanded as if she ruled the whole deck, "my bird, my mechanic, my problem!"

"Well guys I think it is time we…"

"You want this to get ugly?" Lou asked coming nearly chest to chest with Airen.

"Bring it, sister," he replied defiant.

Meili wanted to walk away, wanted to just wash her hands but, she felt a tug. The carratosian in her was telling her to stand her ground. You stand by your people, your group. That's what led to her scar, and her need to leave her home. She stood up to the stormtroopers that came to shut down her shop. Her and the other workers there. That had got her into trouble but, she couldn't leave it behind.

Stepping to Airen's side she looked Lou dead in the eyes.

"Look mam' we can get this bird fixed in a few hours but, only if you let us get to it. How about you put this on hold, besides ain't you got somewhere else to be...some memorial for the fallen." She crossed her arms head tilted back. "I don't want to see one or both of you being sent to the brig or medical. Take a walk, cool off. It'll do you both some good." She looked to the to the togorian and the ugnaught looking for some assistance.

TAG: @Vehn @TheAdmiral @Sarge