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

I try to keep the events of this diary as grounded in canon as possible, though by its very nature there will be some fanon events. That said, everything in this most recent entry is based on a canonical source, which is this map from The Essential Atlas.

 

Chak has great ideas and sims are not the real thing to him

 

Chak has some valid arguments about sims but I'm at least glad the Rookies were able to benefit from them, and the broad range of possibilities presented. Rall versus Juyode's command styles -- Juyode seems like to be more approachable and flexible.

 

Pilot log, entry thirty-eight, 3958.6.29 BBY

I spoke to Commander Rall about our training regimen shortly after my last log entry, taking care to be as respectful as possible. This wasn't easy to do, as I hadn't met very many Gotals before and only knew of their social habits by reputation. So I approached her as one officer to another, asking for permission to speak freely once she allowed me into her tiny office. However, she seemed to have sensed something in my mood, because the look she gave me before eventually granting the request was both appraising and detached. It was the first time I can recall being nervous when interacting with non-Humans, but I managed to keep a steady nerve and asked why we hadn't taken the rookies out on real spaceflights yet.

"Because I must first get a sense of their emotions in simulated battle," she explained cryptically. "Theirs...and yours."

After this pronouncement, she drew a datacard from her desk and handed it to me, announcing that I was to memorize its contents and assemble a squadron briefing from the data within. This order, phrased as the kind of request a kindhearted teacher might give to a primary school student, caught me off-guard at first, but then she nodded at me in a motion I recognized as a silent dismissal. So I returned to my tiny quarters and perused the card, which had just an hour previously been stamped with Captain Toronga's approval—it was in fact the cantankerous old Twi'lek's permission slip to go flying. The mission itself was quite simple on the face of it: the following morning we would launch from the main hangar bay, do some formation flying over the nearest test range, then take a run up what the locals call the Tailhook Trail (a series of canyons containing tight turns and other obstacles, that had been artificially carved through several dozen craters) then hit the gunnery range for live-fire training.

All of this was easily-digested, ready for regurgitation in a manner the new pilots would easily comprehend, but as I assembled my thoughts on the matter I had a curious sensation. Was this a test, devised by Rall to see if I was promotional material? Would Ettiau then be asked to conduct the next briefing, whereupon the commander could get the chance to weigh our suitability to become her XO? It was a slightly alarming, slightly queasy moment of divergent thought, and I couldn't quite shake it right up until it was actually time to do the mission itself—it didn't go away until the precise moment when I opened my mouth to speak, after having been invited quite politely to do so by the Gotal. Instead, I found my nerves becoming like steel, and found myself somewhat surprised at the authority in my own voice. The mission itself went off without a hitch, and I found the Trail to be a fun course to run, for beginners at least. I found out later that day from an officer in another squadron that the far side of the moon has some quite hairy natural obstacle courses, at which I began to salivate mentally.

The next day was spent in yet more simulator runs, but they turned out not to be battles, but flights through some of the very same canyons that the Human lieutenant had spoken of. Fortunately, they didn't prove to be too much for the rookies to handle, and that evening I drafted and sent off a letter to my family. Then, after giving it a great deal of thought, started on a long, detailed message to Teish'ala. But then lights-out was sounded and I left it for the night.

Today, as I had predicted, it was Ettiau's turn to brief the squadron. I decided there and then that I wouldn't try to compare her performance with mine, instead taking in the data as always and committing it to memory. Our flight through the canyons we had simmed the day before went well, though I and a couple of others came close to brushing up against the rocky sides. As a swooper I'm used to such close calls, but one of the rookies confessed to me after we landed that he had nearly thrown up after coming close to smashing headlong into a basaltic pillar. I gently told him that he'd soon get used to such tight quarters, and that he should be grateful not to have to experience that kind of flying while under fire.

I personally don't envy the poor sod who has to fly up some trench on some Force-forsaken moon to hit some target, with laser blasts flying around him and enemy fighters swarming about, eager to vape his behind.


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

 

Excellent Chak handled his test/eval very well and is already giving encouragement to the newcomers.

This:

I personally don't envy the poor sod who has to fly up some trench on some Force-forsaken moon to hit some target, with laser blasts flying around him and enemy fighters swarming about, eager to vape his behind.

 

that ending: a great hommage Chak is handling things great

 

Pilot log, entry thirty-nine, 3958.8.5 BBY

Well, it's been over a month since my last entry in this log, as there really hasn't been that much interesting happening in the meantime to warrant a new entry. As such this'll be a brief summary of mine and the squadron's previous activities along with some introspection.

After several weeks of hard training, the 18th Marine Starfighter Squadron is approaching full combat readiness; all that remains is a series of exercise flights wherein we will go up against some of the other squadrons stationed here, all of which are Navy units—using powered-down lasers of course. Depending on how we perform, Captain Toronga will either sign off on our fitness to return to front-line service, or we'll have to do a few remedial exercises to bump up our performance stats. Speaking for myself, I think we have a pretty good chance of at least getting an even footing. While our main missions are different and we train accordingly, most in the 18th have seen action while our counterparts largely have not.

Now, Navy fliers are specifically trained in ship-to-ship combat, much more so than we are, and their training lasts for a few months longer as well. Ideally, a pilot candidate hoping to enter the Republic Navy will spend about a quarter of a year in extra flight training in what we refer to as ACM, or Aerospace Combat Maneuvering, which brings the total time spent as a recruit to a full two years. That said, I and the other veterans have had to fight for our lives against real foes, and know what kinds of maneuvers, tactics, and psychological ploys are going to work—and which ones aren't. Commander Rall has also imparted a good deal of wisdom in how she fought the Mandalorians, whose style of starfighter combat is quite different than that of the Sith. Plus, their fighters had shields, while the Interceptors I'm used to flying against don't. Theoretically, this should give us a bit of an edge; since we know our Aureks as good as or better than the Navy fliers here, we know what they can and cannot handle and which spots to shoot for massive damage.

Though I have every confidence in the training we're getting, I cannot really say the same for the war. The Sith continue to pin our forces down across multiple worlds, with Chazwa having succumbed to the enemy onslaught about week ago. The forces of Darth Revan attacking that world have since moved on, now laying siege to Basilisk, a planet in the Core Worlds and home to the reptilian Basiliskans. Personally I'm starting to wonder if the Republic can hold back the increasingly overwhelming tide of reinforcements that the Sith are bringing to bear across the galaxy; there have been a smattering of reports here and there describing the annihilation of entire task forces of Republic warships. The more senior officers, myself included, are keen however to not let this sort of pessimism reach the ears of the rookies and recruits, because we have learned firsthand just how costly a distracted mind can be for a fighter pilot. I can only imagine what our first assignment as a reconstituted squadron will be once the ornery old Twi'lek in charge of this facility gives us clearance for deployment.

But on to personal matters, which I'm happy to say are not nearly so murky. My folks wrote back soon after getting my letter, and have been keeping up a steady stream of correspondence ever since. My sister graduated from secondary school while I was battling interceptors on Lannik, and now she's working for an accountancy firm as a receptionist before taking on an apprenticeship with the company. While I couldn't have imagined that Nemi would go in for a numbers job, I'm certainly glad she didn't decide to follow in her brother's footsteps. She's got the brains to be an officer, but not the grit, and I find myself a bit startled to think of her in such a way. Best she find a nice, relatively safe civilian occupation, I say.

That missive to Teish'ala I had started eventually got finished; it ended up being quite long and heavy on details, to the point that I had begun to wonder if she would have had the time to read it. Turns out that she did, and she sent me back a reply that was, if possible, even longer and more detailed. Like me she has also been promoted to account for attrition within her unit; in this case, a flight leader bought it in combat over Sullust and her XO was assigned to lead the recently-decapitated 17th Navy. She's been doing non-stop hit-and-fade strikes against the Sith for as long as I and my unit have been stationed here in the Corulus system, and she is getting rather tired of it. After re-reading her letter several times, I got the distinct impression that she was slightly jealous of us Marine flyers, as she hinted that she would rather be doing what I do—that is to say, supporting ground troops in an offensive rather than patching holes in the battleplanes. I'm going to write back and suggest she look into the Inter-Service Training School, since it's easier to "rescue" Navy pilots and teach them how Marines fight than it is to train a new Marine pilot.

The last thing worth mentioning is this: our bid to form a Marine team for the Corulag-based swoop circuit has finally been approved. Captain Sookanado contacted me by holo three days ago, and assured me that everything had been taken care of, and that if I was interested, I could still captain the team and pick my own racers. I told him that my squadron was very near to getting back to operational status, and that they would be counting on me to help see them through their first battles (Commander Rall still hasn't picked an XO!). The Rodian captain then informed me that he could pull some strings and get the 18th assigned to Corulag as part of its garrison force, suggesting that I and the rest of its pilots had quite earned a break from combat. That idea had brought me up short; the last thing I want to do when the Republic is in such peril is to leave the fighting to someone else. After a pause for breath I told him I'd think about it. Today he sent me a message, asking for a final decision. I received it after we got back from our most recent training run up one of the natural canyons, wherein one of the rookies had scraped wings with Ettiau''s fighter while trying to pass her up.

These kids aren't ready for war. So I told the Rodian I'd take the job.


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

 

He is getting ready for action and has some nice things about his friends and a swoop circuit sounds interesting for him

 

Excellent progression and news personally. I also wondered if this Inter-Service training would bring Chak and Teish'ala together.

 

Pilot log, entry forty, 3958.8.12 BBY

A bright spot on the galactic front has appeared in the lifting of the siege of Basilisk by reinforcements secretly drawn together in the Deep Core and thrust into the heart of the Sith force attempting to wrest control of that planet. Led by a number of Jedi Knights and bolstered by Bastila Shan's use of Battle Meditation, the Republic fleet saw the last of the Sith out of the system two days ago; spurred on by this victory, the First and Fifth Fleets have gone on to attempt to liberate Chazwa, which is a vitally strategic world as it intersects a number of critical hyperlanes. All of us stationed behind the lines are watching with bated breath, hoping this new effort bears fruit and heralds a new counteroffensive. But Darth Revan's forces are still present in huge numbers throughout the theatre of war, and it'll take a miracle to nullify them all or, at the very least, drive them back whence they came.

Meanwhile, the 18th Fighter Squadron is just a few training fights away from returning to active duty. We have gone on ten such flights so far, pitting ourselves against each of the other squadrons stationed here at least twice. We barely "survived" the first encounter, and most of the flights since have ended in draws, but we've managed to win outright a couple of times. Even the rookies are starting to grasp the seriousness of what they are training for, due in no small part to an angry dressing-down I gave to one of them after the second such simulated combat action. Her judgment overridden either by nerves, an unchecked aggressiveness, or both, the Human ensign had shot out of formation toward the "enemy" squadron we were facing and nearly took the rest of her flight with her to her simulated doom. If she had been in Ettiau's flight I'm sure she would have done it, but the ensign was in mine and therefore my responsibility to discipline. I did so by confining her to quarters when not on duty and cancelling the weekend pass to Corulag she had been scheduled to receive. I hope for all our sakes that the lesson hit home, because an unchecked and undisciplined ego is a danger to themselves and their unit.

I hate dwelling on that stuff, and it was not a pleasant task berating her. But as a wise being once said, sweat saves blood, blood saves lives, and brains saves both.

Tomorrow, however, we've got an off day so I'm going to spend it picking the best candidates from the squadron to form the swoop team that Captain Sookanado placed me at the head of. Commander Rall told me after being informed of this development that she thought swoop racing was a waste of a pilot's time, but that she also understood the symbolism of showing the flag, demonstrating to the civilian populace that we are fighting for them. She seems to think that taking on this responsibility will prepare me for other things to come, but as I began to inquire what those things might be, she simply fixed me with a cryptic sort of half smile and nodded fractionally. I knew at once that our thoughts were in parallel; I think she would have preferred for the 18th to be sent back to the front, but she doesn't appear to be resentful of our pending assignment to Corulag's garrison force either. I suppose we'll see once the Navy captain running this place decides whether or not we're worthy to be deployed.

Still no word from Teish'ala, either about ISTS or anything else. But if I know her, she will at least have given it some serious consideration, in those rare instances when she has some down time. I'm not going anywhere, and will happily wait out a reply. In her case, no news is good news, as it means she's managed to survive the war thus far—we had previously agreed when we became involved that one would receive notice of the other's death or incapacitation, and had passed that on to our respective chain of command.


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

 

Looks like Rall is seriously considering Chak for a promotion, as she is probably impressed not only by his competence but his natural leadership skill without being pushy about it. Hope Teish'ala joins the training school.

 

I fully agree with Nyota's Heart and Findswoman. He earns a promotion

 

(Special "May the Fourth" edition!)

Pilot log, entry forty-one, 3958.8.19 BBY

The 18th Marine Starfighter Squadron has successfully earned its combat re-certification, which was presented to us this morning in a simple ceremony led by Captain Toronga. This was the first time that I—or anyone I've talked to, for that matter—have seen her smile. That rough visage made the expression seem oddly sinister, but she had at least unfastened her lekku so that they hung openly. As I have begun to understand, this is a sign of openness among their kind; by contrast, holding them closed-off shows reproof or disdain. Anyway, it was at the same time that we received our deployment orders, and as I suspected we are being posted to Corulag. One of the other veterans tells me that we're in for a cushy assignment, as the facilities there are just as good as if not better than anything we could hope for on Coruscant. I can't say I'm sorry about that, after having gotten used to shipping out on warships, however it may give the rookies a false impression of what life in the service is like.

In the meantime, I rustled up a trio of pilots from the unit who have swooping experience, giving us a total of four racers to fill out the team's roster. Two of them are folks I had flown with over Lannik, and were quite surprised indeed to learn that I had placed in the junior league on the capital world. The third is one of the rookies—the one, in fact, who seemed most at home in the cockpit of an Aurek and whose head had been the most level through training. Seeing it for myself, I now understand why the tracks almost always had at least one or two Marine recruiters present whenever a bunch of us young swoop jocks were out there, either for fun, training, or competition: the Corps likes to recruit its fighter pilots from the circuits whenever they can. Perhaps the most interesting fact is that I'm the only Human on the team; Lieutenant j.g. Ruchter Ven is a Twi'lek, Ensign Jalitha Telmi is a female Falleen with a knack for situational awareness, and the rookie, Ensign Gerner Ros'lax, is a Bothan. Hopefully they and others won't see me, in the position of captain, as asserting some sort of authority over the "aliens" on the team. That shouldn't happen, considering our past battle experience, but all the same I'm not going to take any chances.

Captain Sookanado, in the formal orders that authorized the team and arranged for its setup and billeting, was very clear about where the bounds of duty and off-duty activities were. Like all fighter pilots, we are expected to be on-call for missions within a set time limit, so everything we do has to be within a certain distance of our ships. This includes swoop practice and even official competitions—of course, if the call were to come while we were on swoops, it would be that much easier to get to our fighters were such an emergency, as a Sith attack, to come up. We are also to notify our commanding officer of all planned activities relating to the team, in this case Commander Rall, and get her permission to proceed. Which reminds me...

The commander finally decided on her choice for executive officer once Captain Toronga had left after presenting the unit with its orders. While I and Ettiau are now senior lieutenants, the promotions also having come with the base commanding officer's visit, the Gotal has chosen her to serve as the 18th's XO. She didn't explain her choice, and I didn't ask, but I suspect this might have something to do with having accepted the position of swoop team captain. Ettiau came up to me after lunch today and said that she thought I was the surefire choice, but I gently shrugged off the compliment. "But I get to go out on swoops whenever I want," I had said cheekily. "You, on the other hand, have to do her datawork and help look after the new kids."

She punched my arm. "Easy for you to say, exhaust-for-brains. Don't worry though, I'll get you back."

I'm not too worried about her. In fact, I'm confident that this is the best possible course of action; any reservations that I may have had about Ettiau as a combat leader, if true, will soon be addressed by the Gotal. In battle I have already proven myself, so now it's her turn. Meanwhile, I'm going to fire off a quick update to Teish'ala, with an invitation to spend her next shore leave on Corulag so that we can have some time together...or perhaps a race if she is so inclined.


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

 

Nice things to be on the swoop team as captain. Looking forward to his writing about that and about Tei'shala

 

Findswoman: Well, you see, life as a fighter pilot isn't about constant danger. Perhaps the best way to summarize it would by by the phrase: "hours of boredom punctuated by moments of sheer terror." Pithy, yes, but accurate, especially considering that he's going to be out of the combat zone for the foreseeable future. I'm sure his time will come, and he will acquit himself with professional aplomb.

I just hope Teish'ala makes a decision soon, or at least has the chance to.

 

Cool about the swoop team and the assignment. Hope Teish'ala answers also ... I am sure the uncertainty about what she is going to do is worrisome for Chak.

 

Pilot log, entry forty-two, 3958.8.23 BBY

He wasn't lying, the veteran who told us we were in for some prime digs.

The transition from the lunar training base to dirtdown on Corulag itself went fairly smoothly; we took our Aureks while the Navy transported our somewhat meager belongings. Having lived fairly well off the civilian goods I had bought on Corellia during my leave there for as long as they had held out (I used up the last of it about a week prior to our reactivation), it's good to be back among the more civilized parts of the galaxy. By the standards of my previous experience in the Corps, our quarters are fabulous dens of luxury—at least mine are, because apparently being a senior lieutenant qualifies a pilot to have his or her own room. I could get used to something like this, at least in peacetime. However, since there is a war on and we aren't on the winning side just yet, I refuse to let myself become complacent. Fortunately, the squadron has been reorganized so that the other swoopers are all in my flight, with Ensigns Telmi and Ros'lax sharing quarters while Lieutenant Ven is bunking with another of the rookies. This means that I can exercise direct authority over their attitudes while on duty as well as when we're racing, because I will not have anyone under my command slacken their vigilance lest they wind up as a greasy stain on the landscape or a cloud of ionized gasses in space.

But back to our new digs. Situated within the Marine Corps Recruit Training Depot not far from the capital city of Curamelle, it turns out that our facility is also under Captain Sookanado's sphere of command. It occurred to me upon learning this that it explained the Rodian senior officer's interest and guidance in forming the swoop team, as well as how he is able to provide us with the right support and facilities. After we had settled in, I took my flight out to inspect the area that had been set aside for us as well as our new mounts. We were met by the being in charge, a Marine master sergeant who had commanded a GP-22b infantry fighting vehicle during the Mandalorian Wars and was quite a mechanic. The Elomin introduced us to his crew of techs and mechanics, all of them Marines whose previous training had built upon their prior experience in the civilian world working on airspeeders, swoops, and landspeeders, Though we would be using the standard-issue MSS-7x Scout Swoop that Marines were using throughout the frontier, he assured us that he and his people were working diligently on making them into top contenders. After a thorough briefing that took up most of yesterday afternoon and into local twilight, I thanked him and his team for their hard work and assured them that we wouldn't let them down.

"Are you sure you don't want to have a trial run first?" he had asked.

"I'd like to, but no sane swooper flies at night through unfamiliar territory," I had responded politely.

That had elicited a smile in return. "Then my swoops are indeed in good hands."

Upon returning to my quarters and opening up my datapad, it was to find that a message was waiting for me. Teish'ala had finally gotten a chance to reply; her unit had seen a lot of action and while she had managed to escape serious injury, she had been treated for exposure after having had to punch out of her fighter over Chazwa in the recent campaign of liberation. Her big announcement was that the 52nd Navy would be heading back to the rear for rest and replenishment (R&R does not stand for "rest and relaxation"). She's tempted by the idea of ISTS, but wants to get an opinion from her commanding officer first before she commits to anything. It is plain that she misses me, but she was glad to hear that I had taken the initiative and was rewarded for the effort. Though it went unsaid, I feel like she knows she wouldn't end up in the same squadron as me, a sentiment I share; the chances of that happening are slim and none. Besides that, I'm not sure it is wise to have a romantic partner within the unit. It's bad enough looking after one's wingmate and flight or, the Force forbid, an entire squadron during a combat situation, working with people you have to trust to be as objective about you as you are about them, without having hormones and feelings thrown into the mix.

I may know jack and squat about the Force, but it seems to me that in wartime, the Jedi at least got one thing right: No attachments.


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

 

Excellent streamlining of racing team with squad-mates. Wonderful quarters Chak has, and great that he has heard from Teish'ala. Interesting reflections on 'no-attachments.' That may be the sensible thing for fighters/Jedi to follow by their own volition, but it becomes a big problem when it becomes something engraved in stone that others try to enforce and regulate until natural feelings become forbidden and a source of trauma and drama instead of joy and fulfillment.