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

Sure is! Amazing and just shows what teamwork will and can pull off. Looking forward to his time with Teishala, also.

 

Pilot log, entry ten, 3958.3.2 BBY

The night after the battle I slept horribly, thrashing about in my rack as beams of light crisscrossed the star-spangled visage of my dreams. It wasn't a dream in the normal sense I suppose, nor was it a "vision" or some other stupid mystical crap. I asked one of the other pilots about it in the morning after he asked if I was feeling okay, and he explained that this kind of thing was normal after one's first combat. He also said that it would have been doubly worse for someone, like me, going through two or three engagements before having the time to properly rest and "data-dump the day's events," as he put it.

As if to make up for the rotten rest, we got some shore leave the next day. The Rodian government seems to be quite grateful to the Republic military for defending their world from the Sith, and they showed it when they invited us down from our ships in waves to enjoy the delights of their capital city. It was during our allotted time on-planet that Teish'ala and I had those drinks, and boy did it help our moods. I hadn't really been much of a drinker before the war, but this time it was thoroughly enjoyable. Alcohol is funny that way, it seems; just about every other war holodrama has a scene wherein the protagonist realizes the delights of drinking away the stress of combat. Teish'ala, it seems, is quite skilled at knocking back shots, a feat I wasn't about to try and match her at.

In any case, we had fun on Rodia, taking in the sights when we weren't pub-crawling. This was a world so unlike Coruscant, where it's all urban sprawl; its jungle is organic, though it can be just as deadly. Teish'ala tells me that the Rodians themselves like it that way, as they're hunters by nature, and she seems to admire them for it. I suppose that's why they're so often employed as mercenaries and thugs, but given the previous day's events I can imagine a lot of them will be queuing up to join the Republic Military. The Marine Corps could definitely use them best, I think.

Anyway, we're back aboard our ship, and we plan to meet again in a few minutes' time, so I thought I'd scribble down a few notes about goings-on. Based apparently on the AARs (after-action reports) I've been submitting, Lieutenant Korve seems to think I've got a knack for the written word, and he tells me I should consider making this log into a novel.

If I survive the war, of course.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

(Sorry for the double-post, but this needs moving forward)

Pilot log, entry eleven, 3958.3.6 BBY

It is strange to think that less than two weeks ago I fretted about losing my head in a crisis and letting the enemy carry the day because of such a lapse. That's about how long my combat career has stretched, ever since the attack on the Sith-held Roche asteroid belt. In the time since my last log entry, the 23rd has been detached from Admiral Hetton's task force and tasked with conducting more hit-and-fade attacks into enemy territory. My living quarters aboard Stalwart Defender were never that great to begin with, but our new host vessel, a Hammerhead-class cruiser called the Delta Dagger, has us pilots jammed in three to a room. For the duration of this sojourn, I have the interesting privilege of sharing quarters with Shabu Eight and Shabu Ten, which isn't as bad as it might sound. They're about even with me in terms of experience, and both of them are good people.

The first of our raids took place yesterday, against a fuel-refining and distribution station in the Minos Cluster. Again using the scatter formation technique, we stealthily made our way through the perimeter, launched torpedoes at preselected targets for maximum effect, and were on our way out before the last of the secondary explosions faded into the cold vacuum of space. We ran into a patrol of Sith interceptors along our exit vector; fortunately they were just as surprised by our presence as we were, so that with our superior numbers and advantageous positioning we were able to wipe them out without much fuss. Commander Juyode got two kills, Lieutenant Korve got one, and the rest of the six-ship formation fell to Shabus Nine, Ten and Eleven. We made it back to our ship without too much fuss.

Though pleased that we had done our job and gotten out without a scratch, I found that I was not so drained afterward as has been the case previously. My sleep was unencumbered by nebulous dreams and I awoke refreshed and, aside from feeling capable of eating an entire gundark, feeling quite normal. One can only assume that it has finally started to sink in: I'm a Marine, a combat pilot with ace status, and I do have what it takes after all.

I miss Teish'ala already.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Glad he and Teishala got time together, and that his new roommates are congenial. Looks like the squad he's with is getting more and more efficient, which leads thankfully to fewer casualties. Hmm. Also looks like the emotional adjustment to combat is kicking in, also. Sleep is restful, and appetite high LOL

 

Nice to see him having great bunk mates and efficient raids. Loved to read more about Rodia

 

Pilot log, entry twelve, 3958.3.9 BBY

We've gone on a couple more raids to various Sith-held facilities near our first target. Commander Juyode tells us that this is part of an extended operation intended to deceive the Sith into thinking that we're intending to take the offensive in this sector, and that we're not the only squadron making mischief behind enemy lines. I sure hope he and Delta Dagger's captain know what they're doing, because I'd hate to think what might happen if an enemy patrol found our lone cruiser and its handful of Marine starfighters. We're not equipped to fend off an enemy in this way; our main purpose is harassment and support of the troops on the ground. Fortunately there's a tiny gym aboard this ship as well, and I've been hitting that speedbag pretty often of late.

During the briefing for yesterday's mission, I asked the commander where we were getting the information on where these Sith facilities were and how we knew how to hit them. His answer was the sort of evasive non-reply that you'd expect when the source is supposed to be a secret, however he did tell us that a lot of these installations had until recent months been held by the Republic. So I replied that, in essence, we're blowing up our own stuff, to which he nodded. The rest of the squadron got a good laugh at my expense, which eased the tension somewhat. The mission itself proceeded according to plan, and we met no resistance to speak of; oh, I'm sure there were interceptors out there, but they were in no position to do their job before we were well beyond their reach.

Well, that's what happens when your mainline fighters don't have hyperdrives. Silly Sith.

Today, however, we were given a rest. It was fortunate as well, because that was when the reply from my folks finally came through the military communications net. Mum and Dad worry about me, naturally, what with me being a fighter pilot stationed on the front lines. I couldn't tell them that I had participated in the recent victories, so it was somewhat weird to read about their reaction to the news, as though they had thought that I was somewhere far, far away from the battle planes at the time. Or maybe they just hoped I had been, the better my chances for getting out of this in one piece. Overall, the letter was a welcome break in the routine, and I must have reread it five times before putting my datapad away for the time being.

Tomorrow, however, it's right back to business. So in preparation, I'm going to eat like a gornt and maybe give the heavy bag a go.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

(Apologies again for the double post)

Pilot log, entry thirteen, 3958.3.13 BBY

Some folks back home, including a fair number of my fellow racers, seem to think that thirteen is an unlucky number. Whether or not that luck is good or bad is curiously never mentioned, and I'm not sure how to feel. In any case, as this is my thirteenth log entry and today is the thirteenth, let's hope this is a good omen rather than a bad one. And I'm not the only pilot in the fleet who would rather be lucky than good.

So, back to the action. We've finished our harassment of this sector, after the successful completion of a few more hit-and-fade runs, and are heading elsewhere though no one will tell us lowly pilots where. Yesterday's sortie ended much like the first one, with an enemy patrol intercepting us on our outbound vector. This time, however, they got the drop on us, and though they were outnumbered two to one, that didn't stop them using their advantage to try and slow us up, presumably so reinforcements could be summoned. Two of them latched onto my tail and wouldn't let go; I had to do some fancy flying just to avoid becoming free-floating hydrogen. Despite the fact that Commander Juyode and his wingmate were able to double back and clear my six, the Sith interceptors' combined firepower managed to drop my shields. If they had been a second late, I wouldn't be making this entry right now.

Well after that brush with death I wasn't in any great hurry to go out again, so it came as a mighty relief when the Delta Dagger pulled up stakes and set a course for who knew where. I wasn't the only one who nearly got vaped, either, as another pair had also gone after Lieutenant Korve; he was rescued by Shabus Three and Four. He got the worse deal too, as his Aurek not only lost shields, but picked up a few neat scorch marks and a long furrow in the port wing near the laser cannon mounting. The 23rd's chief mechanic, an Elomin first sergeant named Barduk, was not pleased with the repair work he'd have to do.

I have no idea where we're going as of this writing, as we're still in hyperspace. Maybe we'll pop out over Zeltros for a nice bit of R&R, or maybe we'll end up pulled into an ambush. Strangely, this does not have me feeling particularly concerned. War seems to be quite an unpredictable affair, and I never had much of a taste for the staid lifestyle of a ground-pounder.

______________________________________________________________________________
@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar @Diary_Challenge_Sock

 

(And a triple post)

Pilot log, entry fourteen, 3958.3.16 BBY

Today we learned firsthand that war is truly the hell the "real" holovids say it is.

We were due to rendezvous with the other ships in the flotilla that had been assigned to harass Sith forces in this sector before heading back to Republic space to receive further orders. Due to a minor engine malfunction, however, we didn't make the jump to lightspeed until several minutes after our scheduled departure, meaning that we would be late upon our arrival. When we did drop out of hyperspace, it was in the midst of a large debris field, which I'm told the sensor officer was swiftly able to identify as the remains of several Hammerhead-class cruisers, a number of starfighters from both sides, as well as scrap consistent with the outer hull of an Interdictor-class cruiser. We had, apparently, just missed a ferocious battle.

Six Republic cruisers and their crews are now dead, along with who knows how many of our fighters and pilots.

Though I wouldn't have thought it possible upon hearing the news, it turns out that the Delta Dagger was able to pick up a significant number of life pods. Those rescuees who were not floating in kolto or else too injured to speak were able to give an account of what had happened. Apparently the last cruiser to make the rendezvous point had unknowingly picked up a tail, which wasted no time calling in reinforcements. Before the cruiser squadron could calculate a jump, no less than five Sith interdictors had caught them dead in their gravity well projectors. The result had been a massacre as Aurek fighters attempted to ward off Sith interceptors while the Hammerheads were raked with fire from all sides.

I can only assume that the enemy ships jumped away once the last cruiser had been vaped, seemingly unaware or uninterested in taking prisoners. I can only imagine what might have happened if we had not come when we had; too early and we'd be as dead as the others, too late and the life pods would have become miniature morgues. Hopefully some of the Aureks had had the sense to flee a losing battle, with their hyperdrives they could possibly have made it to another outpost...

Sithspit, time to hit the gym again.


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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar Diary_Challenge_Sock

 

Nice to have a letter from home & to read of other missions: near misses and hard losses which could have been worse, but also better. I guess you learn to appreciate whatever good you can get out of a combat situation.

 

Great entries. He has seen a lot of action and losses are always bad

 

Pilot log, entry fifteen, 3958.3.18 BBY

We have successfully brought the survivors of what had once been a squadron of some of the finest cruisers in Republic service back to Courscant, heading there from the spoiled rendezvous point by an indirect route to throw off potential pursuit. From what Commander Juyode told us when we arrived in orbit, it looks like a fair number of the accompanying Aureks had managed to escape, including most of the Marine contingent; the 11th Marines actually got out without loss, thanks to Commander Piccolé's experience and decisive leadership. The 9th wasn't so lucky; they lost their CO and five of their people in the engagement, so the rest of the Marine units in the area are donating a pilot to fill their ranks. Lieutenant Korve was tapped to take over their unit.

To compensate for this change in our roster, there's been a general reorganization. As one of the more promising new flyers (these are Commander Juyode's words, actually), I'm being bumped up to element leader with the new callsign of Shabu Seven; the new Shabu Eight is a Wroonian fresh from flight school (her predecessor got bumped up to Shabu Five and a promotion to junior lieutenant). After having been second in a two-ship formation thus far, I can't say this is an unwelcome change, but it means that I'm going to have to be responsible not only for myself, but for my wingmate as well. There might not seem to be much difference to the casual observer between this situation and my previous experience, but when you're a fighter pilot a whole new realm of awareness is needed. Before, I just had to keep after my lead and watch his six. Now, however, my wingmate is watching mine while I make sure that the both of us are doing what we're supposed to.

If my previous battle experience is any metric to go by, then this will not be an easy task. Ensign Ettiau Pia will need constant monitoring, because right now we just don't have the time for orientation flights or other sorts of training maneuvers, like we did at the start of the war. I have to make her understand that when we're out in our Aureks, her place is by my side, not chasing after her own kills. We may be equal in rank, but I'm her boss, and if she gets hit or vaped while she's under my watch, then it's my ass that's on the line.

By the Force, I hope I'm up to the job.

_________________________________________________________
@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Great to see him promoted. But yes more responsibilities too

 

Pilot log, entry sixteen, 3958.3.22 BBY

The war continues on, and after spending less than forty-eight hours in orbit of the capital world, we left Coruscant to join back up with the Second Fleet. Upon arrival at the staging area, the 23rd was reassigned to Admiral Hetton's task force and transferred back aboard Stalwart Defender. It was a relief to get off the Dagger, and not just because I was able to get my old quarters back. As soon as we had settled in I had gone off in search of Teish'ala, only to find that she was in sick bay. Apparently her unit had run into some trouble conducting similar operations and she had had to go extravehicular in her last combat. Thankfully for the both of us, she was out of the tank and recovering well by the time I arrived on the ward.

We spoke of our mutual adventures, and I learned that her unit had suffered other losses as well. In their last mission, a raid on a Sith communications center, the 52nd had run into a pair of corvettes and a fighter escort, calling in their own support vessel to try and affect a retreat without getting completely annihilated. Their cruiser, the Kickboxer, had jumped in but not before a fierce dogfight had erupted. One of the Sith vessels was destroyed in the ensuing battle, with the other forced to withdraw along with a number of interceptors, but the comm base had been untouched and the Navy Aureks had been reduced from twelve to nine, with two EVs (including Teish'ala) and the death of her flight leader. As she explained the battle to me, it seemed as though she had lost some of her old spark and swagger, and I privately hoped that this wouldn't be a permanent condition.

She seemed to understand how I felt upon describing how we had expected to meet up with a small flotilla and found only scrap metal and some life pods. I don't envy what she had had to go through, but somehow it seems less of a burden than having to deal with the aftermath of such an encounter. I guess that's just my innate self-preservation instincts talking; it's better to deal with your own circumstances than to take up another's troubles and heap them upon your own. Well, it's not like we have time to think about it, because soon after our arrival the entire fleet had jumped into hyperspace. We're heading for the Mid Rim's Lambda sector, but for what purpose I cannot say.

Given the number of ships we're taking along, however, it's something big. In the time since our departure, we've been using the 2D simulators onboard the battlecruiser in an attempt to get more comfortable with the changes in the roster. Ensign Pia seems like a capable wingmate, but she's got an alarming tendency to zoom off on her own. The first time this happened, Commander Juyode privately informed me that I needed to reign her in and fast, no matter what it took. She went and did it again the next day, and in front of the whole rest of the squadron I took the CO's advice and let her have it.

Her look upon our dismissal was one of deep offense, but if this gets her to do her job properly and not leave me hanging, it'll be worth it.

_________________________________________________________
@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

(Sorry for the double-post again)

Pilot log, entry seventeen, 3958.3.27 BBY

Once again, the Marines of the 23rd participated in a pitched battle against a vast enemy armada, this time in orbit of Mon Gazza.

Just from what I was able to learn from the debriefing of the action in space, which only concluded late yesterday evening, the Navy apparently received intelligence from a Jedi-led infiltration team that hinted at a continued push into the Mid Rim. Following on from their failure to capture Rodia, the Sith it seems are attempting to penetrate further into Republic space along a similar vector. Commander Juyode supposed that were the planet to fall, Darth Revan's forces could use it as a staging base from which to capture other nearby star systems. He went on to assert that if the Rodian homeworld could be cut off from the rest of the galaxy, then the Sith would be able to invade at their leisure. What they'll do next is anyone's guess, but there are other targets in the vicinity.

However, that's all been deduced in hindsight, after the smoke and debris has cleared.

The Second Fleet had already been charged with reinforcing Mon Gazza when we rejoined them, arriving two days ago to find a scouting force of two Interdictor ships and a small flotilla of corvettes probing the planet's defenses. The enemy cruisers sacrificed their escorts, as well as a goodly number of their interceptors, in order to escape; this resulted in the squadron tally taking a small climb as I and a couple of others (including our new XO, Lieutenant Kunforth) scored a kill apiece. Fortunately for me my wingmate didn't start tearing off on her own with me to play catch-up, I guess those shouted admonitions had had the desired effect. Of course, even as we came back aboard Stalwart Defender to rearm and refuel, we knew that this wasn't the end by a longshot. As it happens, it was only the end of the beginning.

Barely four hours had passed when the Sith returned in force to make a go of it, only enough time for a hot meal and a short power-nap, and they clearly meant business. Their fleet was easily half again as large as that which we had faced only a couple of weeks earlier at Rodia—it really boggles the mind where the Sith are getting all those bloody ships—but once again we had Battle Meditation on our side. Unfortunately for us, Second Fleet's compliment of warships and starfighters had yet to be replenished from the recent battle and series of raids, so we went into action at an even greater disadvantage. I'm no fleet officer, and thus can't really be sure, but once we got out into space and got a good look at how the enemy fleets were approaching, it seemed to my mind that they had attempted to take into account some of the lessons of Rodia. Their interceptors were attempting to dig a firebreak in space, a gauntlet through which our fighters and those of our comrades would have to pass before getting at the big ships. At the same time, they sent forth groups of corvettes and interceptors to probe our own lines.

For five whole minutes the two fleets, Sith and Republic, watched each other before the order to attack was given. Both they and we made our moves seemingly at the same instant, with the 23rd charging off toward their left flank and a corvette that was out of position for covering fire. Before I could comprehend what exactly was going on, the enemy ship was belching fire and escape pods and we were lining up for another proton torpedo volley, this time aimed right for the bridge tower of an Interdictor. After that nova flare, the battle became a blur once more, though I do remember vaping an interceptor that had gotten on Ensign Pia's tail and then, later on, letting her have lead so she could rack up more kills. As had been the case at Rodia and Iridonia before that, the command and control of the Sith armada just seemed to break down from there and they began to fall back in retreat. This time, however, they hadn't suffered quite as badly and had put a number of our ships out of action (the Coronet Spire and a trio of Foray-class frigates were lost). Commander Juyode's wingmate had to go EV, though she was picked up by a rescue shuttle; the 52nd Navy, which was once again riding alongside, also had a pair of pilots going extravehicular.

We honestly thought that had been the end of it, but we were wrong. Within another eight hours, the Sith were back.

The enemy armada came out of hyperspace much closer to Mon Gazza than before, putting the planet at our backs and making it all but impossible to conduct a retreat if the situation deteriorated. Even worse, they were back up to full strength and more. We at first thought that the Sith had made a tactical blunder, coming at us from the same vector as before, but in reality they were using this as a ploy to draw us into battle so that their dropships could make planetfall relatively unhindered. This left the fleet in a tricky spot; we couldn't very well meet both threats, we'd be spread too thin, but if the enemy ground forces overwhelemed the planetary defenses we would be caught between a black hole and a supernova. Well, we did the only thing we could do: trust in the troops on the ground to do their part while they trusted us to keep the enemy fleets at bay.

The battle was an out-and-out slugfest. Sith cruisers poured fire into Republic frigates, corvettes annihilated interceptors while starfighters lobbed nova flares (a large barrage of torpedoes concentrated on one spot) into capital ships, and everywhere things were going boom and fading to free-floating hydrogen. For hours it continued, and three times we had to return to our ship to refuel, rearm, and repair before, once more, the Sith retreated. But we know they're still out there, because even now, their troops are still heavily engaged with our Marine brothers and sisters on the ground as well as a number of Army divisions.

And we finally have our first fatality of the war. It was inevitable, certainly, but no less sad an occasion for that.

_________________________________________________________
@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Exciting updates with him promoted, seeing his friends again and now the big fight

 

Pilot log, entry eighteen, 3958.3.31 BBY

The battle for Mon Gazza still rages on the surface, with the heaviest fighting taking place within its capital city (a generous term for what amounts to a filthy, uncivilized mining town). As befits our training the 23rd, along with the 9th and 11th Marines, have been pulling almost non-stop ground support missions while the Navy conducts combat aerospace patrol. Commander Juyode and the other flight leaders have direct lines of communication with the Marines on the ground, so that they can call in strikes, and they send us off to do the actual killing. It's fairly exhausting work, but it's safer than going up against an enemy armada and definitely easier to manage as it plays to our strengths as pilots. I personally have destroyed twelve armored vehicles and strafed a number of artillery positions; the Sith obviously came prepared for a long battle.

Every time we come back to the ship to rearm and rest while the 9th and 11th take their turns, we hear about goings-on in space and elsewhere in the galaxy. Most of the Second Fleet is still here in order to stop the Sith bringing in reinforcements and supplies; they've managed to turn back at least one convoy so far. A few cruisers and frigates have also been attached to the Republic's ground forces to serve multiple roles, including evacuation of wounded soldiers and Marines, high-grade orbital fire support, and logistical support. But even from my relatively low position on the rank ladder, I can see that all these extra responsibilities could be a real threat if—or should I say when—the Sith decide to bring in another fleet to try and lift the siege and secure the planet.

Teish'ala and I have only been able to get together for a few minutes at a time, sharing conversations at mealtimes and accompanying each other when we happen to be heading to similar destinations aboard ship. We've been doing a lot of bunk flying, rehashing our experiences and what we've learned from them, as well as discussing the course of the war. During lunchtime yesterday she let slip that Ryloth was starting to feel the pressure; apparently her father is part of the Head Clan governing one of the major trading centers there, and they recently received an envoy from Darth Revan himself. I hope for her sake that the ambassador was shown the door fairly quickly, but from what I remember from history class, the Twi'leks as a whole have traditionally been fairly isolationist. It's the ones living on other worlds that more often involve themselves in interstellar affairs.

Last night, as we walked to the pilots' quarters in officer country, I kissed her as we arrived at my billet. She didn't protest; instead she blushed slightly, then returned the favor before bidding me good night.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Great update with him and Teish'ala. There is time for business and relaxing

 

Pilot log, entry nineteen, 3958.4.3 BBY

Going EV is not fun. Going EV in atmo is even less so.

The Sith still haven't given up the fight for Mon Gazza, and they were doing a decent job of keeping our ground troops and Marines contained. That's all started to change in the last couple of days, however, as we received some welcome reinforcements planetside; the Republic forces on the ground now have the manpower and heavy guns to begin taking the fight to the enemy. Us Marines in our Aureks are doing our part, with the Navy fliers starting to lend their support as well (though in truth they're not really trained for it, it isn't that hard to lob a torpedo at a tank). Things are looking good for us, provided we can keep the situation in orbit from deteriorating; the Sith have made another few supply runs, but most of the ships they send don't get through. As it stands, the fleet has the system pretty well locked down.

Perhaps that is why I got careless.

The 23rd, along with the 44th Navy squadron, was tasked with providing close-air support for the soldiers and Marines laying siege to one of the largest fortified positions held by the Sith. Captain Reyolé's Third Marine Battalion led the assault, backed up by the 18th Armored Battalion and 6th Infantry Division, and we were told to expect heavy resistance from entrenched positions. This included a number of Sith vehicles that had been dug hull-down into the soil at key points along their lines; unfortunately for me, their guns were dual-purpose, meaning they could be used against ground targets as well as airspeeders and low-flying starfighters. They say that you never see the one that gets you, and in my case, this axiom remains sound—no sooner had we made our initial pass along the chosen point of attack then my fighter was nailed by a hail of blaster cannonfire. My shields melted away and my cockpit was filled with smoke and blaring alarm klaxons as I was slammed about in my seat. With the controls unresponsive, I had no choice: I punched out.

Fortunately, I was wearing the standard-issue atmospheric emergency pack, which consisted of a repulsorlift-augmented parachute made of reinforced synthetic fiber. After clearing the blast radius of my poor Aurek, I deployed the 'chute and took stock of where I was heading. It soon became apparent that I was descending right into the middle of the raging lightfight taking place groundside, and in my effort to guide myself away from the worst of it, I spotted a ray of hope: the blue shaft of energy that had to be the blade of Captain Reyolé's lightsaber—no Jedi or Sith I ever heard of would carry one while in full Marine-issue battle armor. She seemed to realize what was going on, and as I floated gently down, my 'chute seemed to become ensnared by an invisible tow cable. I hit the ground within spitting distance of where she stood, directing her troops and deflecting stray blasterfire.

"Not your day, huh?" she asked me after removing her helmet and introducing herself.

"You could say that, ma'am," I replied. "Should've checked my vector more carefully!"

She asked me if I thought I could handle myself on the ground, given that it would be impossible to send a shuttle this deep into an attack. I informed her that I had rated expert with pistols during pilot training and (again, fortunately) had my sidearm with me. She then told me to stick to her like glue, and that she would get me out of this in one piece. So far she's been as good as her word, and you wouldn't believe the stunts I saw her pull off. I've said it before, and I'll say it again: if every battalion in the Corps had a leader like Captain Reyolé, this war would be in the bag.

Anyway it's night time where we're at now, and the fighting has calmed down a bit, so I've had time to commit my experiences thus far to electronic memory. If I survive this and make it back to the fleet, I will speak up for the troops on the ground from now until the day I die.

And the Jedi, too.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Great update with him now assisting the Jedi on the ground.

 

I don't think he's really assisting the Jedi. More like she's assisting him in his quest to not get shot

 

Fast paced action & yay for Captain Reyole. Happy about his being able to spend time with Teish'ala.

 

Pilot log, entry twenty, 3958.4.7 BBY

Hard to believe there's been twenty entries in my log, written over two months of near-constant fighting and traveling the spacelanes.

Never would I have imagined what would come up during my initial deployment; when I first arrived at flight school, the war with the Mandalorians was still fresh in everybody's minds—as well as its explosive culmination at Malachor V. I went in for training with my head full of visions of that galactic graveyard, scenes from the battle that had escaped the censors and made their way onto the HoloNet getting my dander up. The instructors were well aware of this, and it was made into a scenario we went through on the 2D simulators, in fact it was the last one we went through before we would get to start flying in our two-seater training fighters. Marine flight cadets soon learned to dread what was affectionately known as The Malachor Trap.

The sims hardly do it justice, combat flying. They try to teach us that it's like managed chaos, what happens when a swarm of flitnats and viperwasps accidentally meet and decide they don't like each other. But it never sinks in until you've been there among the lasers blazing all around you, watching ships on both sides blossom into molten flowers of swirling gas, seeing your friends die...

The battle for Mon Gazza is done, and we've earned a bit of rest.

After spending the night with the Third Marines, I kept by Captain Reyolé's side as her unit and the Army finished the task they had started just prior to my getting shot down. My DL-3 in hand and ready, I watched her back as she waded into the fight, disarming Sith and knocking them out with her mind so that they could be taken prisoner. I'll admit to being curious as to what a lightsaber blade would do to an armored soldier, but the captain wasn't in for that it seems; most of the time she was deflecting blasterfire or wielding the Force. I think she only had to close to melee range once, and to be honest, what happened in that instance is something I hope to avoid witnessing in future. It's one thing to see it on the 'vids, but in person...

All that really matters now, however, is that I'm safe and back aboard the Stalwart Defender with the rest of my squadron. It turns out that we actually lost two ships in the skies over Mon Gazza, but I was the lucky one: Shabu Twelve caught a burst in the cockpit and died instantly. With the battle over, we were able to hold a small service for him, as well as for Shabu Three whom we had lost during the initial battles in orbit. After the memorial, Commander Juyode took me aside and said that I was being recommended for a commendation; apparently Third Bat's commanding officer had been impressed with the way I'd kept my cool while on the surface. I told him by way of reply that "it was all I could do to stop myself shooting at anything silver!"

"Being out of your element like that, I'm not surprised," he told me, a snarky grin on his face. "Better pilots than you have gone absolutely catatonic at being caught on the ground, much less plunked into the middle of a ground assault."

Barring any unavoidable surprises (the usual fog of war and fickle finger of fate, etc.), I think I'm going to do just fine.

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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar

 

Nice entry. He is back on his ship and got a commendation. Nice for him

 

Excellent Competence and composure both are increasing & it's gratifying to have a tangible notice of your value and skill via a commendation

 

Pilot log, entry twenty-one, 3958.4.10 BBY

The remaining pilots of the 23rd, along with a few of the more active squadrons in the Second Fleet, are enjoying a nice weekend of shore leave on Corellia. Having grown up on a world without oceans, I am determined to spend the time off on an actual beach, making the term for our liberty into a literal one. When we boarded our transport back to the Core Worlds, I made sure to seek out and find Teish'ala (as I knew her unit was also going), and that we would share as much of our leave as possible. She readily agreed, and as I type this we're on a sandy shore not far from Coronet City, the planetary capital.

Half-asleep, Teish'ala is currently lying on a large towel in a very flattering two-piece, the gleam of lotion on her green skin catching the sun in all the right ways.

Tonight, we're going to hit Treasure Ship Row and see what kind of trouble we can get into. I hear that it's quite the attraction, particularly for spacers like us; a few of the more seasoned and cosmopolitan officers were talking about the cantinas and pubs there in almost reverent tones. In any case, I'm going to stock up on civilian luxuries while the opportunity is present, because we could be stuck out on the frontier for a long time to come. Fortunately, I haven't had anything to spend my pay on in months, so I'll be able to lay hands on a good-sized pile of 'vids, alcohol, holozines, and other entertainments. We'll need additional replacement pilots before we can start going on missions, but I've got a feeling that Command won't have any trouble filling our roster, and then we'll probably be sent out Rimward to Force knows what assignment.

That said, I'm going to take a chance and ask Teish'ala a personal question before we head back to the fleet in a couple of days. If she says yes, then that'll be something else I'll have to fight for.


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@Thumper09 @windu4 @Nyota's Heart @earlybird-obi-wan @TrakNar @Diary_Challenge_Sock