Before - Legends Goodwood Writes... (drabbles, vingettes, miscellaneous cruft) Flying Leathernecks!

sorry for the double post

Flying Leathernecks: A View From the Cockpit
By: Lieutenant (s.g.) Reeka Chorizzo

Even in the midst of war, there's time for a Marine to take stock. In the course of recent operations, I had the chance to sit down with Lieutenant Commander Chak Ravartin, recipient of the Cross of Glory for his leadership and bravery above and beyond the call of duty. A young Human male from Coruscant with red hair, green eyes and an almost boyish demeanor, he is a charming, engaging person whose selflessness and sense of duty embody the highest tradition of the Corps. He has most graciously consented to give his perspective on many things, and despite a few hitches in the form of meeting engagements with Sith forces, we were able to sit down and have a number of quite pleasant face-to-face chats.

"It's mentally a rough-and-tumble life, being a starfighter pilot," Commander Ravartin says when I ask him about what it's like to fly for the Republic, "but it definitely has its perks. I didn't sign up out of patriotism or anything so trite, though there's certainly that angle. Flying the Aurek-class tactical strikefighter is a full-throttle, hedonistic experience, and if you've got the chops to pass muster in combat, there can be no greater thrill than to engage the enemy and emerge intact."

The commander certainly looks and acts like someone who enjoys his work. When my unit was posted aboard his ship, I had plenty of opportunities to witness how he bonds not only with his pilots, but members of the crew and the ship's officers. One Commander Mara Juliso, a Human female whose ebon hair and brown eyes speak of confidence borne of experience, says that Mr. Ravartin "possesses a sense of maturity and self-awareness that is easy to miss." As captain of the Hammerhead-class cruiser Horseshoe, she has every reason to have gotten to know Chak, as the two have served together for quite some time. "Chak is the kind of man that can project a sense of optimism into the blackest situation, because he's been there and come back out again. He would never ask a pilot to do something he wasn't willing to do himself."

While recent events have certainly shaken up the galaxy and the prosecution of our war against the Sith, Chak is determined to do his bit for the Republic. "There is nothing out there short of death that can prevent me from doing my duty," he says. "Not Darth Malak and the dark side of the Force, nor the thermonuclear fire of an exploding sun."

I tease him about the use of such histrionics, to which he replies "Yeah, you've got me pegged alright. It doesn't help that Whipstaff is a favorite author of mine, but in the end, it's almost like a coping mechanism." He laughs and offers up a shrug. "I suppose it's just now occurred to me that there's a reason why those involved in the great events of their times feel that theirs is the most important struggles of all. History is replete with them."

Clearly, this is a man who has matured well beyond his years, forged in the crucible of war. I ask him what he means.

"Every generation has its defining moments," he explains, taking his time to formulate his answer in a calm, considered manner. "The Marines of forty years ago certainly had one in the attack on Exar Kun's stronghold on Yavin 4, which I understand involved the entire Fourth Marine Division. The soldiers and officers of that time knew that they were embarking upon such a turning point, but instead of wondering about the possible ramifications of what they were being called upon to do, they hitched on their armor and kit and did what needed to be done. History remembers them for what happened afterward, but if you were to ask a veteran what their thoughts were on that day, I'd wager a hundred thousand credits that they might say something like, 'I hope I don't screw up and let my friends down.' It's that in-the-moment concern that enables you to step into that role, to do one's duty, in the first place. Without it, your efforts will be cold, ineffectual; it's as inevitable as pre-battle jitters, and just as necessary."

Here is something that I know well from first-hand experience, and can instantly relate to. I confess to being quite terrified at the prospect of engaging the Mandalorians on Dxun, and that fear never did leave me during all the time I spent in that green hell. While self-preservation was certainly a significant factor behind that emotion, most of it was based on a deep-seated need to see that I did my best for those who entrusted in me to help lead them. I relate my own story to the commander, pointing out the fact that my senior drill instructor at boot camp was one of those veterans he mentions, to which he replies, "Yes, I've heard of Tuffass—what Marine hasn't? He's a living legend, and rightfully so."

I ask Chak what impressions he had of the Corps when he first signed on, at which he starts to look a little uncomfortable for just a moment before replying. "Well, not much really," he says, somewhat embarrassed. "I knew almost nothing about the military before joining up, and I was in fact recruited off the swoop track almost as an aside."

With a genuine chuckle, he then recomposes himself quite nicely. "I don't even remember the guy's name, but he looked quite impressive in his dress reds, with what I later realized were master gunnery sergeant's insignia and a double handful of service stripes, and a very healthy salad bar over his left breast. He asked me how much I liked flying, and I told him it was the breath of life to me. You see, I had just placed second in the All-Coruscant Junior Championships and wasn't exactly thinking straight—that was one intense race and every position was up for grabs—and here's this man standing there, watching intently as the competitors receive their prizes (my reward was a cool five thousand). Anyway, he asks if I had had any career plans, and if I did, whether or not they involved flying. I told him that I was hoping to hear back from a couple of pro teams, who had agreed to review my performance in this race to decide whether or not to give me a slot, and he said that even if they do make an offer, he can make a guarantee. With a curt nod he handed me his card, and melted into the crowd, presumably to harvest more bodies."

I ask Chak what he would have done if he had been given an offer of sponsorship to a professional swoop racing circuit, and he smiles whimsically. "I actually did hear back from both teams," he says with a laugh, "and they were both interested. The kids' league on the galactic capital is nothing to shake a stick at, and it was clear to them that I was a good swooper, even if I got cobbled out of first place. But then the war with the Mandos came to a roaring crescendo and suddenly everyone was talking about what the Republic was doing out on the Rim; it was no secret that we had lost a lot of people in the war and needed more to fill in the ranks. So I visited the recruiter, just to see what all the fuss was about, and he told me plain: the Marine Corps needed pilots of a certain caliber, possessed of skill that I clearly had in abundance. I rather glibly asked if he made a habit of recruiting at the swoop track, to which he said, 'It's tradition, son—almost all of our best pilots are former swoop jocks.' Well, that certainly planted the seed, and it wasn't long in germinating."

I point out the fact that we've discussed the circumstances behind Chak's enlistment as a pilot for a fair bit, and I wonder aloud about his motivation for passing up a promising career as a racer. "It's hard to pin down, you know?" he says bemusedly. "I guess you could say that while I certainly enjoy flying swoops, doing it for a living can be tenuous and downright hazardous to one's health. I'd already crashed a bike once, and professional racers get more cutthroat the higher and more prestigious you go, and sponsors can be quite fickle. The more I read about the Marine Corps, though, the more convinced of the recruiter's guarantee I became. Even if I didn't make the cut as a pilot, there would be plenty of opportunities to shine, not to mention the experience of serving and the value that would have for later life. So I signed the flimsi and within a week I was off to flight school."

As we discuss his life since entering flight training and his early experiences in a combat unit, it becomes clear to me that Chak has found a calling that few in this universe can hope to realize. Before me is a man who knows who he is now, who he has been, and has a solid grasp on the steps he has taken in between. It is a path that I have walked as well, and I compliment him on having developed such a sense of self at such a relatively young age.

"It's not all sunshine and Bilars," he quips by way of reply. "But I have a wonderful, supportive family and the good fortune to have visited them fairly often since becoming a pilot."

A cloud seems to pass over Chak's visage as he looks off into the middle distance, and I don't need the Force to tell me that he is suffering an unpleasant thought. I ask him what he is thinking of, politely pointing out his discomfiture. "Not everyone in the Navy is a glory-seeking, aggrandizing void-brain," he admits begrudgingly. "Not long after I joined my first unit, I met one such person, and it wasn't long before she and I were becoming more than friends."

Chak is referring to Teish'ala, a Twi'lek from Ryloth whose family is politically well-connected on that world. Ironically, her most recent posting was as commanding officer for the 23rd Navy Starfighter Squadron, the same numerical designation as Chak's own Marine unit. Along with most of her unit, she was lost in battle against the Sith when they attacked Sluis Van, after which she was posthumously awarded the Navy Cross—the highest honor the Navy can bestow, second only to the Cross of Glory.

"If the war were to end tomorrow and she was still alive, we would be married the day after," Chak says mournfully. "She was that special kind of someone that, though she was selective about her friendships, for those who had earned her trust and regard she was as steadfast as a sentient being can be. She was my anchor, and I wouldn't—couldn't—be the man I am today without her support."

Though most won't admit it, every Marine knows that they are part of a service branch that cannot exist on its own. We do the fighting while the Navy does most of the flying, and their logistical support is absolutely necessary for us to be able to defend the Republic. We in turn are the spear of the Army, taking the ground that they hold in our own tradition of "first in, last out." All three branches rely on one another for various tasks, and though rivalries run thick and fast, we nevertheless take heart in the fact that we're all on the same side. I put this opinion to Chak, and he enthusiastically supports it. "We may fly through vacuum, but we can't breathe in it," he agrees, succinctly wrapping up my own thoughts. "Most of that stuff is for show, anyway. I've never had a problem associating with Navy personnel, and though I've met few Army officers, I doubt we'd find much to disagree on. My relationship with Teish'ala is something I will forever treasure, not least because it taught me the value of cooperation."

Though Chak joined the pantheon of Republic heroes when he received the Cross of Glory, along with numerous other awards and citations during his career, he doesn't feel that this has changed him. "I'm not ready to be a statue," he says simply. "As long as there are battles to be fought and I'm around to help, I'll keep on doing whatever I can for the Republic despite whatever honors they heap on me. The job comes first, and the reward is that someone else gets to go on being happy."

It is clear that Lieutenant Commander Chak Ravartin is indeed of a rare breed. In several ways he reminds me of an old friend of mine, of whom I have written before. Like Captain Laera Reyolé, Chak is ever bound by his duties and responsibilities, and regrets nothing of his life and the choices he's made. And last but not least, despite his amiable personage, I've seen how he faces the enemy both in the simulator and after engaging with what he dubs "that silver swarm of Sith ships." When in the cockpit he is a taopari, his expression hard and his bright green eyes ever alert, and he is an utterly ruthless opponent. "If you're not cheating, you're not trying," he says of his combat style. "It's a saying I picked up during my swooping days, and though I never overtly violated the rules, there's always the temptation to overcharge the flux capacitor."

I ask him to elaborate on some of his feelings regarding fighting a galactic war. "In combat you take whatever edge you can get," he says. "And though it is seldom pretty, any day when you get the job done without loss is a good day. The fact of the matter is that you're going to lose people, and death is a near-constant companion, but it all comes down to how many of them you take with you before you go if it is your time to do so. It's a bitter pill to swallow, but it's one that every soldier and officer has to take at some point in their careers if they ever want to consider themselves worthy of the uniform they wear. I've had to order people to their almost certain deaths, and I have been subject to orders that probably should have resulted in my own demise, but I keep on going because I must. It would be easier to just roll over and die, but 'easy' isn't for Marines."

Having the chance to talk with Commander Ravartin has been an honor and a privilege, and though he blushes at the compliment, he accepts it and knows that he is in good company. I ask him if he has any words to share with all of his fellow Marines, wherever they are and whatever their jobs may be.

"Be true to yourself and your buddies, and keep on fighting. As Captain Reyolé once said, no poor sap ever won a war by dying for their homeland. They won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his."

This article was forwarded to Jarhead from the Republic warship Horseshoe, aboard which elements of LTSG Chorizzo's unit were briefly staged. The editors wish to thank LTSG Chorizzo and LTCMDR Ravartin for their service, and their shared insights regarding one of the Corps' newest heroes.

 

Wonderful!!!! Chak is a true asset and a great one for telling it like it is.

 

I just had the most lovely time reading these little goodwoodian stories -- Chak's stories do stand out of course because one can see that you have put a lot of work in developing the character, but I know where I'll be reading more about him. On the other hand, I did develop a crush on that Chadra-Fan sharpshooter, and I would love to see him come back in a story soon

(That was my very quick and not-very-intelligent comment for the day. But I have excuses; I'm on holiday and I'm not doing intelligent )

 

Thank you most kindly, Chyntuck. I'm glad you enjoy reading random "goodwoodian" stories as much as as I enjoy writing them!

As for the Chadra-Fan...well, let's just say that irony is my favorite spectator sport.