Star Wars: Black Sheep

Tales from the Squadron

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“Here’s to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently.” ~ Walter Isaacson​

We fought at Hoth and barely escaped with our lives.

We infiltrated an Imperial wedding on Naboo and eliminated several Imperial officers in the name of the Alliance.

We were bruised, broken, and reunited on a jungle world known as SonTay.

We have engaged and tangled with various Imperial squadrons including the elite TIE Defender squadron known as the 282nd Death’s Head.

We call our home base the Intrepid, a converted Imperial Quasar class cruiser, and she’s not much but she’s familiar and can do enough to get us in and out of dangerous places.

We’re under manned, out gunned, and in desperate need of supplies. We carry on the fight. We do our best to wreak havoc upon the Empire any way we can.

Some of us are ex-Imperials. Some of us used to be part of partisan groups. Some of us used to be farmers. Some of us are dreamers. Some of us are true believers in the cause.

All of us have put our lives on the line day in and day out for one another. Without question. Without remorse. We have lost many friends. We have killed many enemies.

No matter what we always fly again.

We are the Black Sheep squadron.​

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About the game: This is a sequel story that continues the adventures of Black Sheep Squadron created by Bardan_Jusik in October 2017 that takes place between Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi.

Black Sheep squadron is known for being given the toughest assignments on the fringes of the Empire to keep the Imperials busy from the regrouping Rebel Alliance fleet.

As the story progresses the missions will grow more difficult. Some of you may be wounded. Some of you may die. (At your request of course) All of you who join will have the brave distinction of having fought against the Galactic Empire’s finest.

The Rules.

1) Please follow the RPF Rules and be mindful of the Terms of Service and Rules of the Jedi Council Forums.

2) No God modding or autohitting.

3) Game Master's word is law.

4) All character sheets must be PMed (Private Message) to the GM (Vehn) for approval.

5) Any OOC chat will be conducted in the “Watering Hole” located in the RPF Resource Thread

6) Posting expectations: Barring unforeseen circumstances all tags should be replied to within a week (7 days). I plan on GM updates for the game on a weekly basis. Real life always takes precedence over online happy online fun pretendy time though, so if something comes up and you're able, let the GM and other players know that you'll be absent (I know sometimes even that isn't possible though). If you miss any tags, I will continue to tag you and your character for the duration of your character's current assignment, afterwards your character will either be quietly dropped from the game (though they can return at a later date) or killed.

Note: Rules were edited to reflect the practice of killing off of inactive player characters.

7) All major storylines (a storyline that affects the game as a whole) must have prior approval by the GM via PM. If you have an idea, please PM it to me and we'll work together to flesh it out and get it into the game.

8) Please no Jedi/Sith characters. A character may be force sensitive if you wish, but untrained and uneducated in the ways of the Force and thus unable to harness it in any meaningful way.

9) Have fun, and May the Force be with you.

The Character Sheet: Please note that anyone returning from the original game will not need to resubmit a character sheet. All new and old characters will start aboard the Intrepid, our home base in the stars.

General Information:

Character's Name:
Callsign:
Species:
Gender:
Rank/Affiliation:
Languages:
Residence:
Home Planet:
Age:
Approved Special Features (any force sensitivity would go here ):

Character Traits:
Personality:
Habits/Mannerisms:
Likes/Dislikes:
Racial Traits:

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Physical Strengths and Weaknesses:
Mental Strengths and Weaknesses:
Emotional Strengths and Weaknesses:

Looks:
Appearance:
Picture:

Eye Color:
Hair/Fur:
Skin Color:
Clothing:

Personal History:
Immediate Family:
Spouse/Children:
Biography:

Miscellaneous:

Pets:
Weapons:
Starship Qualifications (X-Wing, A-Wing, Y-Wing, B-Wing):
Droid:


One last thing, as a part of your character bio please include something that makes them a candidate for Black Sheep Squadron. Something that makes them stand out as a misfit or castoff that any regular squadron wouldn't want to deal with. If you would like to keep that secret from your fellow players at the beginning of the game (to reveal it through your posting as the game goes on) you may excise it from your final posted sheet, but please include it for the GM so I can ensure this vital character trait is indeed included in your character makeup.

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GM Update: New Beginnings

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Three weeks after the conclusion of the previous story
Somewhere in the Outer Rim

Commander Firmus Khairn, a career officer, adjusted in his seat. His body ached. He’d been traveling for hours at hyperspace speeds. He’d dozed a little but spent more time awake than asleep. In his waking moments he thought of his last meeting with his superiors. The tone. The message. The intent.

Alliance High Command was less than pleased with Black Sheep squadron. Mostly because there was no real good way to control them. The Black Sheep were widely known as a group of misfits, created by Commander Wallings, that had rallied together to fight the Empire even if their motives were questionable. The results, however, spoke for themselves. The Black Sheep were becoming an effective fighting unit despite suffering heavy casualties on nearly every mission.

Khairn wasn’t interested in results alone. Every unit had casualties. That was to be expected. They were in a war.

He wanted something that couldn’t be found in an after action report or even a passing comment from a fellow officer. He wanted answers. Especially for the most recent mission which had been completely and utterly off the books.

A mission Wallings had authorized.

Khairn’s orders were clear. Alliance High Command wasn’t fooling around this time. What had started as a pet project from an ambitious officer was quickly becoming a multi-headed monster. A monster that needed to be reigned in and brought to heel.

Commander Firmus Khairn was just the man for the job.

Khairn brought out his datapad and reviewed the rather large file on the Black Sheep squadron. This was his third time reviewing the file. He swiped upward on the datapad and reviewed the known roster. There would be changes. There always were with these kinds of units. It would start up top with command positions. Then move on down the line.

Some of the changes were as follows:

Commander Wallings, Intelligence officer and planner of the mission to the forest moon, had been placed under investigation by Alliance Intelligence and transferred out away from the Black Sheep for further questioning.

Her return to the Intrepid was questionable.

Commander Arick Flagg and Major Beskaryc Taab had been summoned directly to Alliance High Command for further questioning and a full panel review on the Black Sheep squadron as a whole.

By all accounts the two beings would be held up with the Alliance higher ups for an undetermined amount of time.

The following squadron members: Ianna Mcear, Cassell Wystari, and Ven Tarin had all been wounded in ways that the Intrepid could not heal. They were transferred to an Alliance hospital that could better take care of their injuries.

Their return timetable was unknown.

Khairn scanned across the faces of the rest of the squadron. He had read all about their backgrounds. What Alliance Command actually knew about them. Some could be decent pilots. Others were simply flying on borrowed time. Others were a flight risk waiting to happen.

All in all, Khairn thought as he looked at the roster, things were looking rough for the Sheep. A pity what could happen to a unit when poor leaders were involved.

“Time until destination?” Kairn asked as the Lambda-class shuttle reverted to real space.

“A few minutes, sir,” the pilot responded, “we’re only guessing as to their location.”

“Guessing,” Kairn repeated with disdain, “guessing isn’t good enough. I want answers.”

“One moment, sir,” the pilot responded as he touched a finger to his earpiece, “we’re getting a transmission signal now. Honing in.”

Commander Firmus Khairn waited as the pilot and his co-pilot did their jobs. They were functional men. Loyal to a fault.

“We have the Intrepid, commander,” the pilot reported, “intercepting their position now.”

Khairn looked out the window of the shuttle and saw a pair of X-wings, who’d flown with them from Alliance headquarters, waggle their wings and peel away. Moments later they winked out of hyperspace.

Khairn leaned forward between the pilot and copilot to look out the cockpit window straining his eyes to see a glimpse of the ship that was garnering quite the reputation. A small flash of light, perhaps from a dying star, illuminated the triangular shape of the Quasar-class cruiser.

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Found you Khairn thought as the shuttle easily closed the distance.

“Bring us in nice and slow,” Khairn instructed as the pilots complied.

“I’ve sent several comm signals, sir,” the pilot said, “they’re not responding.”

“No,” Khairn whispered more to himself than anyone else, “they wouldn’t. Go ahead and send the codes again.”

The pilot did as he was instructed.

“Still no response, sir. Shall we proceed?” the pilot asked.

“We don’t have another choice,” Khairn replied, “I don’t have another choice. Land us in the port hangar bay at once.”

The pilot carried out the orders and deftly brought the Lambda class shuttle in for a landing in the port hangar bay of the Intrepid. Khairn disembarked the shuttle.

He laid eyes on a blonde woman running her hand quietly over a Y-Wing. He could tell she was doing some sort of pre-flight inspection ritual even though it was very clear that the ships in the hangar hadn’t been flown in some time.

Khairn noticed that other pilots from Black Sheep squadron, in fact most of them, had arrived in the hangar as well. He had committed all their names to memory. They were obviously curious about his arrival. Some hung back. Others glared. He didn’t particularly care. He wasn’t here for popularity contests.

He was here to bring order to chaos.

“May I help you, sir?” the blonde woman asked.

“You can help me by standing at attention with your friends and speaking when I call on you,” Commander Khairn hissed.

The surviving pilots of Black Sheep squadron, the veterans, hastily assembled into formation and stood at attention. It was clear they’d been running their own show lately. Maybe too long. Still it seemed odd to him that all of Black Sheep pilots were lulling about the hangar.

Perhaps someone had tipped them off that he was arriving after all.

“My name is Commander Firmus Khairn. I am Commander Flagg’s replacement,” Khairn said as he flicked his eyes from being to being, “and let me be very clear that how Black Sheep was operating in the past is not how it shall be operating in the future.”

“Oh, I don’t mean flight assignments,” Khairn clarified as he saw the blonde woman whisper to someone else, “though those may change as well. For far too long this unit, these Sheep, have operated on the edge of Alliance command’s periphery. Yes, you’ve scored some victories. Yes, you’ve done some damage. But I will be the first person to tell you that you’ve done very little good in the eyes of Alliance High Command. Your last mission, however successful, was an absolute disgrace. Completely off the books.”

“Sir-” the blonde woman interjected.

“Lieutenant Louise Vehn, is it?” Khairn asked although he already knew the answer.

“Yes sir,” Louise, “Lou” to her friends, replied.

“If you speak out of turn again I’ll contact the Empire myself and send you back to where you came from,” Khairn threatened.

Lou’s eyes went wide and then she fell silent.

“The days of frolicking sheep are over,” Khairn said in an authoritative voice, “Alliance High Command has given me express permission to do the one thing that should have been done a long time ago. Especially considering your most recent act of insubordination."

Khairn looked at each of the pilots and then a sadistic grin slipped across his face.

“You’re all grounded until such time that I deem this unit trustworthy,” Khairn stated.

Tag:
@Adalia-Durron; @Sarge; @Sinrebirth; @Mistress_Renata; @adaml83; @darthbernael; @Rebecca_Daniels

OOC: This is considered a :"soft opening" to allow for us to brush the dust off and also work in new characters who may be joining or returning characters Many thanks to Darth Bernael and SinRebirth for helping me get this thread up and running and for the review. Also thanks to those who have contributed ideas and offered suggestions. Your feedback is most helpful. You know who you are. If I forgot to tag anyone, my apologies.

 

OOC: Not really a game update here but rounding out a few other points.....
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IC: Commander Dor Reder (@Sinrebirth did the first part here. All credit to him)

Briefing, aboard the Pulsar,
Outer Rim Territories

"So there we have it."

The captain rarely attended these meetings, and Commander Dor Reder did the main data pushing aboard the Pulsar.



This was fine by him, because the Moff would have issue with anyone but him if anything untoward happened.

In the weeks since the liberation of the prison camp on SonTay by the irritating Rebel cell known only and seemingly colloquially as the Black Sheep, he had pieced together a roster and that their operations ship was potentially a stolen cruiser-carrier. Not enough for High Command, but a start.

The Skulls would have to do the rest.

And Dor would bring the Imperial Star Destroyer to finish them off.

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IC: Commander Dietryk Gray
Commanding Officer of the 282nd Death’s Head Squadron: “The Skulls”
Personal Quarters
ISD Pulsar

Dietryk Gray, commander of the 282nd Death’s Head Squadron known as “The Skulls”, finally was off duty. He slumped into a chair in his quarters and stared up blankly at the bulkhead above him. The gray metal that was everywhere aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Pulsar was rather comforting. Comforting in its orderliness, conformity, and predictability.

Dietryk had been busy training the squadron of TIE Defender pilots hard. Baron Von Often, the former commander of the Skulls who’d transferred to an even more prestigious unit, had given the men a great foundation but still it wasn’t enough. Not for Dietryk. Not for the Empire. It had become clear to Dietryk that his rivals in the Alliance squadron known as the Black Sheep fought unconventionally. It was why they had survived as long as they had.

He was determined to put an end to that. An end to them.

Dietryk once again began to think about his wife, Louise Gray, and all he could feel was that old anger returning. He had found out, one way or the other, that Louise had remarried. She no longer had his name despite the fact that under Imperial law the two were still wed. And Imperial law was everything. The idea that she could belong to another man, not under his control or watchful eyes, infuriated him.

The fact that she flew for the Alliance infuriated him even more.

And so his unit would train, and train, until they grew tired of training. Then they would train some more. Until one day, and Dietryk knew that day was coming, his path would cross Louise’s path and the two would finish their struggle in the stars. The result, in his mind as clear as the morning sunlight over Coruscant, were clear. Her death, not his, would be the outcome.

Dietryk was determined to take as many of her friends down with her as possible. One less Rebel pilot to fight against. One less traitor to the Empire openly defying law and order. One less reason he had to give one more care in the galaxy for a woman who had utterly, and severely, broken his heart.

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OOC: Credit to @darthbernael for the following section...

Helot-class transport, Deep Space

The figure behind the controls of the transport was weary, it had been another long haul, a route he himself hadn’t flown in several years. But the boss had to show there wasn’t a job in the company that he didn’t know, he led by example not by decree. The ship had minimal cargo at the moment as he was headed home. A small smile crossed his face, thinking about that.

Which was when the comm panel chirped. Tapping the stud by the panel his eyebrows went up. It was an encrypted code but one he had the decryption codes for. What caused the shock was that the sender was one he’d not heard from in many years, had thought was possibly dead due to how long it had been.

Pulling up the message his shock turned to intrigue as he read it.

It has been too long. But I, and those I am with need your assistance. This will be only the first of more messages, a list will be provided in the next message, should you reply. As I am sure you are aware, this is of utmost delicacy, for us all. I await your response.

There was no signature but there need not be one, only the person who had sent the message could have sent it. Typing quickly he sent a reply.

Message received, acknowledged, and awaiting further communication.

Sending it using the same encryption, he sat back, fingers tapping out an irregular rhythm on the command console.

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Helot-class Transport, just prior to entering hyper

It had been a week and a half since that first communication. Since then he’d worked like the breakers, having to keep everything he was doing under the sensors. The messages had gone back and forth, a list prepared of supplies and equipment that his contact deemed immediately necessary. If he could prove that this was a feasible option he was sure that the contract that could come from it would be well worth it.

This time, though, he’d had the transport fully automated, his shuttle attached to the airlock. Double checking that the course and codes were ready, to find and reach their destination, and have the authorizations to dock, he turned and headed for the shuttle.

As the smaller craft detached he sent one more message,

Cargo enroute, automated Helot class transport. All codes given in the ship’s database. Estimated time enroute: a week to two weeks, depending on location of destination and necessary diversions to avoid confrontation.

Looking up as his shuttle turned back to the planet below he gave a tiny salute as the transport leaped into hyper.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron; @Sarge; @Mitth_Fisto; @Mistress_Renata; @darthbernael; @TheAdmiral; @Rebecca_Daniels; @adaml83

 

IC: Lt Kayn "Mean Streak" Balzroth
Toeing the Line

Commander Khairn's self-introduction was yet another opportunity for Kayn to feel grateful to General Dodonna. The old man had run a first-class military training program on Yavin IV, including a boot camp that had prepped rebels for moments like this. Kayn stood at attention, eyes locked dead ahead, face totally impassive with no cracks in what drill instructors referred to as 'military bearing.' He had learned that these kinds of rants were just a mind game, and he let the hostile words roll off him, not even bothering to take them personally. This commander didn't know him or the other Sheep, therefore, his opinion counted for very little. He would stand there and say mean stuff for a few minutes, then he'd go away for a while. Kayn could take that easily enough.

As the tongue-lashing continued, his biometric sensors gathered as much data as possible without drawing attention. It might be helpful to establish a baseline for the man's physiological indicators so he'd know how seriously he should take him. At the moment he didn't have much to go on, so he waited and passively observed. For the moment, he suspected the man was sincere in his words and intentions.

"... grounded until such time that I deem this unit trustworthy."

Kayn nearly reacted to that announcement. How the frack are we supposed to prove we're trustworthy if we're grounded? he thought. Well, there's a war on, and it's not like the Alliance has so many experienced combat pilots that they can afford to keep us out of it for long. We'll be back up soon enough.

He just hoped that some of the more 'passionate' Sheep would be able to keep their mouths shut and not get tossed in the brig before they got back in the fight. He'd hate to have to break in a new wingmate. Keeping his eyes locked forward, his peripheral vision searched for purple headtails.


TAG: @Rebecca_Daniels @Mistress_Renata @Adalia-Durron @TheAdmiral @Mitth_Fisto @darthbernael @adaml83 @Mira Grau

 

IC: Baniss Vermillion
Intrepid

Baniss leaned against a corner watching events from afar. He quietly exchanged greetings with some of the nearby mechanics since, in his opinion, it was a good idea to stay on their good side.

It had been some peculiar times after returning from the mission, going over the footage, answering some probing questions about certain leaders on board the ship, and it seems they listened.

Now listening to the new Black Sheep CO, Baniss wondered if high command got everything. They had tough guys already, two of them actually and it led to this.

Baniss knew that the top priority was to change the casualty rate of this squadron. A leadership change is necessary but there were also some capable leaders on the squadron already. He gave one last look at the Black Sheep's new CO before leaving the hanger. Some of the resources used to replace Wallings can replace him if he doesn't take care of the squadron.

TAG: @Vehn, anyone not necessarily paying attention to the new CO

 

New boss cleared this one, so...

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Black Sheep hangar

“You’d lose some cargo space, but you could load your astromech directly from the ground, without needing tech assistance. On a covert mission, it could come in handy.”

Max tried to ignore the twinge in her ankle as she looked at the plans Sparky was showing her. The damaged X-wing had been repaired up to standard and buffed to a high-gloss by the loyal Koko. But the crew chief had ideas for improvements. To make it faster, more maneuverable…

“I don’t think we’ll be doing any covert missions any time soon,” she said. Serenity had been a disaster. They’d been sent in with no intel. No plan. Get the info and get out before the rest of the Rebellion show up to take out the array. They’d gotten the info, but the cost… Max shuddered, remembering the Kid, her neck at an unnatural angle, with bright blood coming from her mouth. The limmie fan was still alive, somehow, but no word yet on whether she’d recover. Whether she’d fly again. Max dropped her eyes to stare at the floor. She’d have been among them if she hadn’t been under a console. When the roof came down, she was trapped in the cavity. Taab and someone else had been able to raise it enough for her to squeeze out, with a broken ankle and several cracked ribs. None of the Sheep had escaped completely unscathed.

Sparky touched her sleeve. “You got the job done,” she said softly.

Max snorted. “High Command doesn’t share your opinions,” she said.

There was a grunt from the magfield, and they turned to see Zayne, the Gamorrean air marshal move into position. A ship was approaching.

“Is this the new guy?” whispered Sparky.

“Think so. He was due in.” Max hadn’t tried to pull up his personnel records, but she had done a survey of what Alliance records she could legitimately check out. Firmus Khairn had a military background, and this wasn’t his first command. The other squadrons he’d flown with had decent reputations, he’d received a few commendations and awards. That was about it. Without slicing the personnel files, it was all she could glean.

Max glanced at Sparky. “Better not make any modifications until we know how this will all shake out. The socket thing is a good idea, though. Send it up the chain to Incom, maybe they’ll incorporate it.”

Khairn was disembarking from the shuttle, his eyes sweeping across the small group of dispirited Sheep who were gathered there on various tasks. Lou approached him, and he’d barked at her, demanding all of them to come to attention.

It was like a shockwave ripping across the hangar. Attention? This was the Rebellion! And they were pilots, not groundpounders. Did he think they were Imps? Max and Sparky tried to come to attention. Really, thought Max, it wasn’t fair of him to chew out Lou when she was trying to welcome him. Had he expected them to swoon at the first sign of rank? Why would they come to attention for a complete stranger?

And as he went on, she narrowed her eyes. Reaming them out for carrying out a mission off the books? Like they’d had a choice? They’d been given a mission, they’d carried it out, in spite of their many misgivings. If they’d refused, they’d have been court-martialed. Refusing to do it would have been insubordination! How many missions had his previous squadrons refused to do?

She said nothing but glanced quickly sideways. There were a few hot-heads who could make problems right now, and Max prayed they’d keep their mouths shut. Tehanis was the biggest concern, that undisciplined Force ability could go haywire if she lost it. But the young redhead was simply staring in shock, as the rest of them were. And Harley…

Max glanced over at her. She was the other wildcard, but since the Serenity mission, she’d been completely subdued. All the sass and spirit had gone out of her. The Zeltron woman had decided to create a diversion to ensure the Sheep would escape, only her diversion had proved to be…well, more explosive than even she’d anticipated. And the collateral damage to the others, particularly Skipper who she admired deeply, had hit her very hard. Now she was staring dully off into space, not reacting at all.

Max turned her attention back to the new C.O., who was smirking as he finished up his address. “You’re all grounded until such time that I deem this unit trustworthy.”

That goes both ways, thought Max. She was Corellian. On her homeworld, trust and respect had to be earned. Well, we’ll see how it goes. Wonder if Wedge has any openings on the Rogues?

TAG: @Vehn, Anyone else

 

IC: Lieutenant Louise “Lou” Vehn
Port side Hangar
Intrepid

The verbal dressing down in front of the others was something Lou hadn’t experienced since the Empire. Maybe the group she now flew with was a bit lax on rules a regulations but the results spoke for themselves. Most of them had pretty impressive kill counts. They thought outside the box. They did missions that no other unit was capable of doing.

They were Black Sheep. Now, literally, they were grounded.

Lou stood at attention, her old Imperial training coming back, eyes forward, as Khairn gave the unit a dressing down. Though you could hardly call it a unit with all the issues they’d had since Sontay. Supply issues, morale issues, physical issues, the list was growing longer as time passed.

Lou had spent the last few weeks trying to salvage her relationship with her husband, Airen. They had gone from the highs of enjoying their wedding to th lows of the Son Tay prison camp that had broken so many of the Sheep. Now they were somewhere in between. Struggling to get through the psychological horrors of that jungle hell while maintaining an effective relationship. It was hard. Life was hard.

She hadn’t said much to the others since the mission to the forest moon. It had gone south, quickly, and only the quick thinking of those around her had kept any of them alive. Since she’d been back on the Intrepid they were a unit that was in recovery mode.

Command had changed. She remembered the day Wallings had left. Escorted by Alliance Intelligence. To say there weren’t a few cheers and hopeful looks was downplaying what had happened. When Taab and Flagg had been summoned to Alliance High Command many had a feeling that heads would roll. That something would come on down from up high.

That something was Commander Firmus Khairn.

Lou had seen his kind before. Combat experienced, to a degree, but so by the book it was practically jammed up their--Lou didn’t finish her thought. She was wanting to get back into her wishbone. To fly again. To strike back against the enemy that had taken so much from them.

She missed Ianna. The pair had shared a bond since first flying together in Charlie Flight. She hoped she was recovering well in hospital. The last she’d seen of Ianna was on the day she was leaving for a long rehabilitation stay. A simple squeeze on the hand and then she was gone.

Lou still had Joy, so that was comforting, and that experience would prove invaluable. The pair had formed a close bond, not only from combat but from Lou’s wedding, and were routinely seen discussing tactics and armaments to be used against the Empire.

Except now they were grounded.

This is not going to be good. This guy is going to get us all killed Lou thought as Khairn droned on and on and on.

Tag: @Rebecca_Daniels; @darthbernael; @Sinrebirth; @TheAdmiral; @Mistress_Renata; @adaml83; @Sarge; @Adalia-Durron;

 

IC: Jocelyn "Joy" Sunwalker, Tala “Merc” Ashe
Location: hangar of the Intrepid

The three week period after the mission had been rather strange for Joy. It turned into an extended R&R and that made her nervous given the changes that had followed. She also was worried about Skipper and Ianna, but at least they were alive, which was no small feat given the squadron’s track record. Feral had been injured too, thankfully not as seriously, but enough to turn her into a kind of mother hen. Joy had to restrain herself a bit so as not to come out as too bothersome.

They came back to a changed ship. Their commanders had been taken away, Anais too. Her chance to try and turn her over to the Alliance’s side had evaporated, but it did not matter anyway. She was no longer alone.

Tala, the loud-mouthed ex-merc, transferred too as she preferred fighting on solid ground and moved to a unit that took on dangerous missions and Joy wished her luck even though she did not know her that well.

Jocelyn joined the rest in the hangar as they were going to get their new CO. She was standing next to her Y-wing inspecting the craft. Hopefully it was going to survive long enough this time. Her black domed astromech was moving about tinkering and fine tuning the Wishbone. But the truth was that the surly Togorian, Thorn, had done a great job with the maintenance of it.

She turned her head to check on Feral, but did not want to be too unprofessional, especially that the new commander was coming.

Speaking of which a sole Lambda arrived. She followed its landing with her eyes. Joy was curious as to who will be their new commander and he did not take long to make himself known.

Lou was his first victim and Jocelyn had to stop herself from coming to her aid, but the Imperial in her got woken up and she reverted to her old drone self. Standing in attention, her face blank. It seems they were in big trouble and given how her mates reacted to authority they would all be lucky if they were allowed to fly simple haulers, that is, if they were even permitted to see a cockpit at all.

Interesting times are coming…

TAG: @Vehn @darthbernael @Sinrebirth @Adalia-Durron @Sarge @Mistress_Renata @Rebecca_Daniels @adaml83 @Mitth_Fisto @Mira Grau

 

IC: Ethan "Veteran" Malek
Location: Hangar of the Intrepid

Ethan felt almost as if he was entering a different world as he returned into the Hangar of the Intrepid, even though the place had once been so well known to him, the last few weeks which he had spend almost entirely within his quarters had made it foreign to him as well. I frightened him a bit, for he asked himself just how different Eriadu would feel to him when he finally returned, given he hadn`t seen his homeworld in over a decade.

But in a way, in those last three weeks he had been closer to it than for a long time. He had spend most of his time working on detailed reports about Eriadu, its political scene and its growing resistance against the Empire. As one of the few Eriaduans in the Alliance, and possibly the only ORSF veteran he had been approached for his input on the reports and his aid in improving the collaboration between the Eriaduan resistance and the greater Rebel Alliance. It was a different work, more that of a spy or even of a politician than a pilot but Ethan had been surprised by just how well he wore this new mantle. In a way it was a far more constructive and uplifting work than destroying TIE fighters out in the void, and so he began to wonder if maybe this, the role of an mediator, an ambassador was possibly in his future.

As a career soldier Ethan had never thought much about his future, he had never really considered ending his service in the ORSF early to attend a university or open a small business. No he had seen himself following the way of a career officer and then retire comfortably with Tanya who followed the same path. And yet, maybe now he had found a different calling, one he could follow even after his body had reached his limits.

As busy he had been in the last few weeks it had also helped him silence his nagging worries about Ianna´s condition and kept the dark and depressing thoughts away that often crept up on him whenever a squadmate of his was in mortal danger.

Even now he was so deep in his musings he barely listened to the introductory speech of their new commanding officer. Ethan had seen so many higher ups in his life he often forgot or confused them with one another, but given Flagg´s ruthlessness and at times incompetence this new officer might at least an improvment... but then again they were a squadron of rejects and so the officer quality probably wasn`t going to improve any time soon.

TAG: @Vehn @darthbernael @Sinrebirth @Adalia-Durron @Sarge @Mistress_Renata @Rebecca_Daniels @adaml83 @Mitth_Fisto @TheAdmiral

 

GM APPROVED
Character's Name: Zero Maderas

Callsign: Spyguy

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Rank/Affiliation: Flight Officer (Black Sheep), Slicer (Main Occupation)

Languages: Basic, Huttese, and Twi’Leki.

Residence: “The Intrepid”

Home Planet: Nar Shaddaa

Age: 28

Approved Special Features (any force sensitivity would go here ): N/A


Character Traits: Has gold dental implants that read the words “Big Boss” in huttese.

Personality: Zero Maderas is a man who prizes absolute freedom over everything, save for his friends and a few vices on occasion. Vain, prideful, and a bit egotistical when it comes to his reputation as a renowned splicer; Maderas believes himself to be up there with other underworld figures like Boba Fett or Aurra Sing, an ideal that is less impressive when you meet the man. However, while his constant showboating and vanity are visible, he is a very crafty figure when it comes to forgery and hacking of digital material. The man takes his skills serious as any professional would; at the instant a squadmate or random person doubts his skills, Zero will drop his vain facade and turn into a stone-cold professional if his experiences are mocked.

Aside from being a pompous criminal; Zero is also a man of shifty principles, his code of honor is rather jagged when compared to those of the alliance, for one he believes that slavery is beastly but ruining another’s business life is fair in his head. Having grown up a criminal, this isn’t rare for anyone in Hutt Space. Yet, he does has rules that keep him from becoming a monster; the slicer will deny service to slavers and Imperial sympathizers, give his share of credits from hidden bank accounts to those less fortunate, and using his network of clientele to aid his friends in taking down their Imperial foes. Even when faced with a crisis of balancing his side-job and rebel position, he’ll always aid the alliance at the drop of a hat. Especially when he could reap the credits and information from the enemy hats that is.

Zero Maderas is also, a vice maniac; particularly when it comes to both alcohol and the female species. In his downtime, the man could be found swigging a bottle of spotchka like it was tap water and be sober enough for another firefight, the guy has a plasteel liver if given a beer. Most squadmates should be careful when leaving bottles or flasks unattended, they tend to disappear when the slicer walks into a room. When faced with a cute Twi’lek or other beautiful woman on the job, the slicer has a tendency to act like a wannabe ladies man; constantly boasting about his job in a attempt at a love life or getting the number of some lady. But in quiter periods when he isn’t trying to outdo Lando Calrissian as the new casanova on the block, Zero can be seen gazing somberly at a small silver band around his left ringfinger; he’s never told anyone the reason for it just yet, he hasn’t trusted alliance yet with his story.

Habits/Mannerisms: Tends to pace around when he’s nervous or contemplating plans for certain Sheep missions.

Likes/Dislikes:

(Likes): Slicing, Gambling, Cute Ladies, Screwing Imperials or Authorities, His Friends, and most of his contacts in the underworld, mainly the Hutts or Bounty Hunters Guild (They Pay Better.)

(Dislikes): Having his hacking skills questioned/mocked, watered liquor, losing, being screwed by clientele, his squad getting maimed, and being reminded of who he lost long ago.

Racial Traits: None.


Strengths and Weaknesses:

Physical Strengths and Weaknesses: Nimble, agile, fast, and stealthy. Poor hand to hand combatant with the brute strength befitting a newborn ewok, prefers long range combat over close one’s any day.

Mental Strengths and Weaknesses: Gifted slicer and hacker of digital material and has a strong will to complete his goals in spite of the odds. Average starfighter pilot with considerable marksmanship with the ion cannon. Cannot for the life of him, control his hoarding of Imperial records or accounts; this has led to his bounty increasing higher and higher in smaller guilds.

Emotional Strengths and Weaknesses: Can keep a steady head when on the job, when in the skies, ground, or on a terminal; the man can keep cool under pressure. Loses said pressure if a beautiful lady catches his eye and wraps him around her finger; becomes babbling mush right afterwards, squad should keep him on tight watch on missions.


Looks: Always has a poodoo-eating grin on his face, a telling sign he has a slicing scheme or dirty thought encircling his thoughts. Very skinny in frame, yet underneath his clothes; his figure is rather toned from constantly blowing calories on running away from Imperial law enforcement or jealous boyfriends or frakked angry clients.

Appearance: 1.72 meters tall in height and weighing around 78 pounds; Zero is a youth full of vigor from a life of crime. His clothing attire is a black-market purchased flight suit with a helmet bearing a few Hutt-Cartel insignas across the rebel icons. When on the ground, he tends to wear a traditional criminals garb. (See clothing down below for further explanation.)

Picture:


Eye Color: Grey

Hair/Fur: Red

Skin Color: White

Clothing: A neon purple black-market flight suit with a helmet bearing the rebel icons, save for a few spots where one can see Hutt-Cartel insignas scribbled on. Other attire is a standard criminal attire; a brown nerf-hide flight jacket, black shirt, grey pants, utility belt, and officers boots (He stole them).


Personal History:

Immediate Family: None (Lived off the streets as a criminal before meeting Luma Urtula.)

Spouse/Children: Luma Urturla (Longtime partner and fiance, current status unknown.)

Biography:

Joining the Rebel Allaince at their beginning before the Battle of Yavin; Zero Maderas was wanted slicer with a wanted bounty outstretched from Cato Nemoidia to the far reaches of Naboo, some of it due to his pilfering of private Imperial stock records and some was on account of him robbing a CSA munitions compound of their wares and liquidating them of their captured slave labor. Brought in as a experiment for reformed criminals, Max was inducted into a pilots course by a few Mon Cal agents before being drummed out three years later on continued accounts of looting enemy bases and insubordination. Rumors did circulate that he might have dug into the alliance databanks on a dare but he’s not willing to talk about it for confirmation. Drummed out of the regular squadrons for being a criminal through and through, Maderas was transferred to the Black Sheep Squadron, a band of similar misfits with a background just as crazy as he had. Riding away with a few other transferred flying officers, the slicer dreads the period when someone finds out about his criminal occupation and his somber past; the constant fidgeting with his ryloth ringband doesn’t help matters.


Pets: N/A

Weapons: Two black market weapons; a SonoMax 100 sonic rifle and an Ion Stunner Pistol.

(Utility Belt Contents): Two scramble keys, slicer datapad, personal datachip, comlink, and a hook for his slicing/forging toolkit held on the “Intrepid” for storage.

Starship Qualifications (X-Wing, A-Wing, Y-Wing, B-Wing): A-Wing

Droid: Whomever wants to ride or die with this wily criminal.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
IC: Zero Maderas
Location: Hanger of the Intrepid
"And that's how yours truly managed to haul in a whopping 50 grand in 10 parsecs," Zero boasted, his audience member just rolled their eyes and handed him a data card.
"Excellent kid, your a real Ohnaka in training," the robust engineer snarked, her voice holding no secrecy of her disbelief in the youth's story. "Take that data card to the A-Wing crew bunks, they'll get you set up and please, don't cause anything that'll get us in trouble with upper management."
Weeeeeelllllll excuse me, princess! Can't accept a genius criminal when you see it Zero watched the lady who led him to the floating headquarters of the Black Sheeps, a squadron of people that were of likeminded occupations to that of his. But I would let your tiff slide if ya spend a few hours tweaking the A-Wing lubrication with me, heh! The youth chuckled at his little joke as he hopped out of the cockpit and tossed his helmet onto a duffel bag and two metal cases; he was lucky no droids inspected his case as it contained some instruments that would get him killed on 17 systems. Zero was a criminal through and through, he held no disgust at his profession and viewed it as a lifestyle; in fact, this lifestyle led him to siding with the Rebels. Sadly, the reality of the alliance tempered his beliefs of absolute freedom and multiple different illegal actions led him to be transferred.

Transferred, yeah right. The upper heads of Rebel HQ couldn't stand their prim and proper echelons with scumrats that provided them the muscle or gear, Preserving their integrity of justice and diversity my barving hide! What nonsense! Zero shook his head and hopped down to his things, data card in hand, his mind was focused on showering and getting to know the local crews, maybe find one or two people to fly with. Earning a few shriek-hawk nest buddies to fight with you in the air was a prospect the slicer always made sure about doing first, he was not one for going solo except for the rare occasion when the sabbaac cards were in his hands. Glancing around, Zero saw various pilots doing daily rituals or shooting the gab; his eyes caught a glance of a blonde-haired woman and a few other beauties wandering around, jackpot. "Maybe this transfer wasn't all that bad? Zero my boy, you just landed in a slicer's heaven" Maderas muttered, he felt the cold air hit his frame as his flight suit was half-opened, his travel to here 24 hours ago was stifling hot and he needed some slight cool down before going to his assigned bunk.

Then another ship came in and loaded itself in the hangar, he laid down the duffel bag and cases on the floor; as others halted their work. Apparently, some new higher-up was brought in, the slicer stood by his A-Wing as he overheard the new commanding officer decked out in full regalia blast over his crew, his tone reminded Zero of the stuff shirts for the CSA but much more pushy. Yeah Yeah, I hear ya loud and clear Commander; keeping the sheep on a tighter leash and His attention throughout the guttural, verbal dressing down the pilots got was piqued when he noticed a female being blasted at, a threat of being sent back to the Imperials. Okay grampa, you got my attention now and it's turning sour fast Zero glared vibro-knifes at this new CO or whatever he was, insulting a pretty face placed you Zero's frak list, underneath cheating at dejarik and insulting his reputation. Zipping up his flight suit, the youth walked down to the assembled line-up of pilots with a stare that could melt permacrete.

Standing at elbows length with a dour-looking pilot and a few astromech droids; two of the droids swiveled their heads to stare at his black-market flight suit and beeped some form of "Not gonna ask?", they continued listening to the older commander laying down the law. "Seems like you guys really rustled his nerflets," Zero whispered softly to the man next to them, his voice barely reaching the tone of a gorg tadpole. "Name's Zero Maderas, yours?"

 

IC: Zara Yaren
Hangar

Blind rage faded, over time, but it simmered, ready to erupt. People said anger burned hot but she felt nothing but cold for three weeks. Three fracking weeks of playing and replaying the moment over in her mind: watching a familiar face board an Imperial transport and escape, safely out of range of her rifle.

Certainly the outpost had been bombed to bits, a success at steep cost, whatever else had been said that she'd promptly ignored. The only target that mattered was out of reach once more. One thing was for certain: she wasn't going anywhere without her sniper rifle again. She wasn't going to let him escape again.

At least she'd been able to confirm it was him, after all. The name had been a distant memory, pulled from the depths of their time together. A mistake, on his part? Or an intentional lure? Terren Aves... there were some slicers on board, but the question really was whether they'd help or hinder. Maybe Max could dig up more now that she had a name with Imperial ties... or maybe it would be too much of a risk. Especially now that all eyes were on them.

Speaking of eyes...

"My name is Commander Firmus Khairn. I am Commander Flagg’s replacement, and let me be very clear that how Black Sheep was operating in the past is not how it shall be operating in the future."

Zara didn't even uncross her arms when he called for attention. It wasn't like he could actually follow through on any of the threats he was levelling at Lou, though she seemed to believe it. Kayn seemed to be drinking the Commander's Jawa Juice as much as anyone, all uptight and serious, but he was usually up to something. What was this oaf going to do, ground them?

"You’re all grounded until such time that I deem this unit trustworthy."

The instant it was deemed acceptable to leave, Zara stalked off towards her A-wing. They were only grounded as long as someone would stop them-- and maybe she didn't care about being stopped.

This guy was going to regret boarding the Intrepid.

TAG: Any

 

GM Approved
Character's Name: Livia Nascada
Callsign: "Scrubs"
Species: Arkanian
Gender: Female
Rank/Affiliation: Medical Officer
Languages: Basic, Arkanian, at least half a dozen others
Residence: The Intrepid, Family Mansion on Arkania
Home Planet: Arkania
Age: 27


Character Traits: Is a Arkanian pureblood with white eyes and four digit clawed hands.
Personality: Aloof, bordering on arrogant, know it all, sarcastic, curious, challenge seeking
Habits/Mannerisms: Playing around with whatever she has on hand right now, knives, scanners, pointers... Also outside of work Livia is quite hedonistic, drinking and partying hard, gorging herself on unhealthy food, not being opposed to one night stands, that said outside these periodic excesses she usually keeps herself in shape and put great emphasis on her hygiene and health
Likes: Fast Food, a good challenge, being praised after overcoming said challenge, being the smartest in every room she is currently in

Dislikes: pressed rations, not being the smartest in the room, having to obey people she considers dumber than her (which to an Arkanian is basically everyone), people doing pointless things out of emotions.
Racial Traits: Can see into the infrared spectrum, can memorize large amounts of information regarding various topics, troubled it too bright environments.

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Physical Strengths and Weaknesses: Skilled hand to hand combatant, aided by her great anatomical knowledge on various species. Terrible shot with a blaster and with her fighters guns, needs help from her Astro for it.
Mental Strengths and Weaknesses: Has vast amounts of knowledge on medicine and various other topics from history to biology. Though this knowledge doesn`t really make her any richer in sense, and her people skills are lacking.
Emotional Strengths and Weaknesses: Generally calm and collected, even when under pressure. Though on the flipside rarely gets emotional (outside of being often annoyed), thus can be insensitive at times.

Looks:
Appearance: Slightly muscular build, tan skin, white hair cropped short, white eyes, clawed hands (claws usually kept short to not interfere with the medical work)

Eye Color: White
Hair/Fur: White
Skin Color: Tan
Clothing: usually wearing a lab coat over a simple tank top and pants, a dark flight suit when in her ship


Personal History: Immediate Family: Has parents and a brother on Arkaina, they might still think about her, or not...
Spouse/Children: None
Biography: Livia was born into a wealth, pureblooded Arkanian family and life through a privileged childhood, her parents barely spend their daughter any thoughts but where quick to shower her with gifts and rewards whenever she achieved something of note in school and elsewhere. Despite being not a bad student Livia would also often get herself in trouble, her foul mouth rubbing many Araknians the wrong way. After school Livia studied medicine in the Arkanian university. Finishing amidst the middle of her class. Even then, and the Empires Human Centrism, this graduation would have allowed her to work a cushy job as a doctor, surgeon or gene therapist throughout the galaxy, but seeking challenges and wanting to get out of her stuck up surroundings Livia instead decided to seek something different. Working as a traveling doctor in the Outer Rim, helping anyone who could pay regardless of species or political loyalty. At times she even worked for free, but then mostly because she wanted a challenge, not any compassion (or that´s at least what she will tell you). Eventually she was approached by a group of rebels she had helped about joining the wider alliance. Livia is not a very political person, she knows that as a doctor there will always be people in need of her skills, but she was certainly angry at the Imperials condescending attitude towards non humans, and working for the rebellion, having to do much with very little was an intriguing challenge for her. Though the general mistrust towards Arkanians in the rebellion landed her in the Black Sheep (again what she would say, overlooking the people she offended along the way...). As she was also trained as a pilot in her youth she was eventually made not just a medic but also a Flight Officer for the Squad, yet another new experience to make...


Miscellaneous:

Pets: None
Weapons: 2 Vibro Knives, Hand Blaster
Starship Qualifications (X-Wing, A-Wing, Y-Wing, B-Wing): Y-Wing
Droid: Astromech R9-RN (has been modified to help Livia with aiming)





IC Livia "Scrubs" Nascada

Livia listened to the speech of the Commanding Officer, the Squads new Commanding officer as she knew by now. And already in these few moments she already felt she knew more than enough about him. He was obviously not siuted for this role in any way, as he already tried to keep the squadron in line with threats and a blustering presence. Like a rooster on a pile of dung, not a commanding officer. Her people had realized a long time ago that a happy slave was a loyal and hardworking slave, and that trust and real loyality far outweighted any sense of fear, but it seemed this poor excuse of an officer hadn`t mastered this basic concept yet. She asked herself how bad he would be in battle, and if he would even understand the most basic tactics, so far she assumed a simple frontal assault was all she could hope for.

Looking over the other pilots she noticed the same result on the face of pretty much everyone, disgust and rejection. Any sane army had, after a disastrous first showing as this instantly acted to replace Khairn, but here, in the rebellion it seems that was too much to ask. Had no one here even an idea of basic psychology? Livia could already write an entire examination of the problems with the situation and she hadn`t even studied that subject. Once more she curse the unjust prejudice that had landed her in this squadron, and, with a quieter voice at the back of her head, herself for offending several of rebellion higher ups in quick succession. But the latter wasn`t her fault, if she was given dumb orders, of course she should refuse and rightly critize them. She was just trying to help! And yet...

There was something refreshing about the situation, working around this idiot of a squad leader, maybe even finding a way to get rid of him... that was a challenge she gladly accepted. And on top of that it would make for a fascinating study to see how these people from various different backgrounds reacted to this situation. There was much to learn, even if it was just a side project at this time. But she would make sure to write down her own notes about the whole affair, so that no one else could overwrite the truth. One day the history of the Black Sheep would be written down, and she would make sure that it wasn`t Khairn or another dim witted officer who did so...

Tag: Anyone

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Location: Hangar of the Intrepid
"Fine then, it's nice to meet you as well," Zero muttered softly, the CO's loud dressing down was starting to grate on the ears, very akin to an Acklay in mating season albeit more grating than shrilly. With his attempt at conversation backfiring, the criminal found his attention spanning the group of pilots; most of them were a varied amount of species from across the sectors. It reminded him that the galaxies population wasn't as human centrist as he thought it was, especially given his many scams done on Imperial or CSA-occupied planets that spread the xenophobic dogma on a daily level. Devaronian, Arkanian, Twilek, Gamorrean, and other races made the eclectic lineup of pilots or grunts that served the squad's forces; Zero was fine with this. Brings up memories of Nar Shaddaa and Hutt Street, good times as he took in the locals for further assessment, his eyes took notice of a white-haired Arkanian dressed in medic scrubs a foot down from him in the lined mass, Maybe she might know where I can find the A-Wing bunks.

Sidestepping past fuel hoses and pushing past a few pilots that stood in his way with a whispered "pardon me", the neon-purple-clad pilot stood behind the Arkanian. He never was used to working with them in the past; one such incident involving the pilfering of a separatist sympathizer business led to him earning the ire of a wealthy albino-haired boss and a small troop of Imperial constables, Never was able to return to that planet until the search died. He prepped his words carefully, asking out loud as a dumb idiot would only alert everyone to his presence and he didn't want an early reprieve from the mad commander in the front. Play it cool and simple, Arkanians like to seem like the smartest one's in the room and lowering your intelligence for directions will make this all the sweeter Zero took a deep breath of and exhaled quietly. His left hand then tapped the medical figure's shoulder as made a query.

"Excuse me, Miss, do you know where I could find the A-Wing bunks?" Zero said, simplistically. "I was transferred here but my guide left me before showing me around, my name's Zero Maderas."

Tag: @Mira Grau , Anyone

 

GM Update: Part Two



​

Helot-class transport,
Deep Space

The trip had been routine, so far, the Helot having been routed through several systems as well as remote hyper points. The droid crew was waiting at a rendezvous point, having arrived two hours prior. The distant stars and lack of a nearby planet did not disturb the automated crew as it might a crew of living beings.

A chirp came from the sensors, a ship was incoming. As the san began recognition codes were received by the transport. It was one of the other company ships, also a Helot. The command droid received the manifest, adding it to its own as the other ship took up formation on the port wing. The routing information was sent to the other ship as the calculations were begun for the next jump.

----- Helot-class transports,
Somewhere in the Outer Rim

Once the two ship convoy had reached the Outer Rim it had taken three days of triangulating the codes the ships had in memory to find the location of their destination. Finally they had narrowed it down, making the final jump. The ships looked slightly battered by now as they decanted from hyper, having had to outrun some persistent scavengers looking for an easy score earlier in the trip.

Ahead was a distant pinprick of light, a roughly triangular ship, that grew in luminosity as the two freighters drew closer. It eventually resolved into the shape of a Quasar-class cruiser. As the two ships approached they’d received an interrogation signal, demanding verification of the codes the ships had been given.

It had taken several minutes of back and forth between the droid at the comms station and the ship ahead before the codes were acknowledged and permission given for the two freighters to dock.

Not needing to fully dock, given the full automation of the ships as well as the fact that all the cargo was palletized and easily lifted by transport sleds to be deposited in the hangars, the two ships matched velocity with the cruiser, both only two hundred meters from the screens protecting the hangar atmosphere.

The cargo hatches opened, the transport sleds unlocking and lifting from the decks. Within a minute, a steady stream of sleds emerged, shuttling towards and through the screens to deposit their goods in the empty spaces on the decks of the hangars.

---

IC: Commander Firmus Khairn
Port side Hangar
Intrepid

The point had been made.

Khairn was about to dismiss the Sheep when transport sleds, carrying pallets, suddenly arrived through the magcon screens. The unusual appearance of the transport sleds stopped Khairn in mid-sentence as he was about to go on about order and discipline in a fighter unit. He looked beyond the magcon field of the hangar and saw two Helot class transports less than two hundred meters away. He shot the Black Sheep a look. How had the Helot transport ships found the Intrepid when it had taken him a long time to do the same? How was this happening?

He could tell one thing: nobody knew.

More transport sleds arrived bearing heavy loads tied down with opaque transport wrap. The kind for interplanetary hauling. Khairn looked around, bewildered, as if to say to anyone who had a sympathetic mind that he hadn’t authorized a replenishment of supplies.

Maintain order. Maintain discipline Khairn told himself.

Khairn tugged on his tunic, gathered his wits about him, and fumed. He wondered who’d ordered the supply run. Sadly he couldn’t stop the goods from being delivered as everything was automated by droids. There was nothing to talk to, reason with, or complain to about why this was happening.

The last of the transport sleds deposited their cargo in the once bare space of the hangar. The ships they came from quickly loaded up the sleds and winked out of existence into hyperspace as quickly as they had arrived.

“Well,” Khairn fumed glaring at the mechanics nearby,“don’t just stand there! Get to work!”

The mechanics and deck hands, who had also gathered near their pilots, quickly broke ranks and began to access the pallets. It was soon discovered that the Black Sheep had received new munitions for their existing craft. They also received four new X-Wings, two new Y-Wings of the single seat variety, two new B-Wings, and two new A-Wings. These were mostly replacement craft for losses sustained in previous campaigns.

Khairn looked back at the Black Sheep. All standing at attention. He wasn’t going to look the fool now. No, there was face to be saved. There was order to be maintained. He was in charge. He was the leader.

Who ordered these supplies? Who did this! Khairn wondered.

“Moving forward,” Khairn said as the information of the new supplies and craft percolated throughout the hangar. He pulled out his datapad and began speaking again. “while I spent hours tracking you down I went over the flight roster. I’ve gone ahead and made some changes. Adjusted where we needed to change the tip of the spear. In addition. we are welcoming two new members to our squad. Flight Officer Zero Maderas, A-Wing pilot and Flight Officer Livia Nascada, Y-Wing pilot, respectively."

Khairn cleared his throat.

“Please make sure to review your new assignments. Even though the Black Sheep are still under review by Alliance High Command,” Khairn paused, “it would be good of you to know what has changed and what hasn’t. Some of you will notice your flight numbers are different. Consider this moment a turning point in your careers. A new leaf, so to speak.”

Dead silence.

“Sheep,” Khairn ordered, “you’re dismissed.”

Tag: @Sarge; @Adalia-Durron; @Mistress_Renata; @adaml83; @TheAdmiral; @Mitth_Fisto; @Rebecca_Daniels; @Mira Grau; @Sgt.Matt; @Sinrebirth; @darthbernael;

---

Dramatis Personae:

TheAdmiral as Sergeant Jocelyn "Joy" Sunwalker (Coruscanti human female).
Mistress_Renata as Flight Officer Maxime "Max" Pallas (Corellian human female)
Rebecca_Daniels as Flight Officer Zara "Zero" Yaren (Twi'lek female)
Mira_Grau as Sergeant Ethan "Veteran" Malek (Eridauan human male) and Flight Officer Livia Nascada (Arkanian, Female)
Sarge as Lieutenant Kayn "Mean Streak" Balzroth (Devaronian male)
Adalia-Durron as Flight Officer Amber "Vixen" Tehanis (Bakuran human female) and Major Mackenzie "Flanker" Hollymander (Bakuran, Male)
Mitth_Fisto as Flight Officer Akiva "Wolf" Lurell (Codru-Ji female)
Vehn as Lieutenant Louise "Lou" Vehn (Roonian human female)
adaml83 as Agent Baniss "Emgeeelltee" Vermillion (Human male)
Sinrebirth as Corporal Traer "Seppie" Lin (human male)
darthbernael as Captain Finnefrael "Feral" Ordwgal (Lexrullan demihuman male)
SGT.Matt as Flight Officer Zero "Spyguy" Maderas (Human,Male)
galactic-vagabond422 as Flight Officer Ianna "Kid" Mcear (Chandrilan, Female)​

The Black Sheep Squadron:

Able Flight:

Black One/Lead: Commander Firmus “Hardwire” Khairn (NPC)
-- X-Wing
Squadron Commander, Able Flight Lead
Black Two: Flight Officer Maxime Pallas "Max" (Mistress_Renata)
--X-Wing
Black Three: Flight Officer Amber Tehanis "Vixen" (Adalia-Durron)
-- X-Wing
Black Four: Sergeant Ethan Malek "Veteran" (Anedon)
-- X-Wing
Black Five: Major Mackenzie "Flanker" Hollymander (NPC of Adalia Durron)
--X-Wing
Lieutenant Maxime Pallas
—X-Wing
Baker Flight:

Black Six: Lieutenant Kayn Balzroth "Mean Streak" (Sarge)
-- A-Wing
Baker Flight Lead
Black Seven: Flight Officer Zara Yaren "Zero" (Rebecca_Daniels)
-- A-Wing
Black Eight: Flight Officer Jasmyn Tafui “Mermaid” (NPC)
--A-Wing
Black Nine: Flight Officer Zero Maderas “Spyguy” (Sgt.Matt)
--A-Wing
Captain Kayn Balzroth
—A-Wing

Charlie Flight:

Black Ten: Lieutenant Louise Gray "Lou" (Vehn)
--Y-Wing
Charlie Flight Lead
Black Eleven: Sergeant Jocelyn Sunwalker "Joy" (TheAdmiral)
-- Y-Wing
Black Twelve: Flight Officer Livia Nascada (Mira_Grau)
--Y-Wing
Black Thirteen: Flight Officer Akiva “Wolf” Lurell (Mitth_Fisto)
-- B-Wing
Black Fourteen: Flight Officer Harley “Wild Card” Quin (NPC)
-- B-Wing
Black Eighteen: Flight Officer Ianna "Kid" Mcear (Chandrilan, Human, Female)
—Y-Wing​

Delta Flight (Recon):
Black Fifteen- Captain Finnefrael "Feral" Ordwgal (darthbernael)
--X-Wing
Black Sixteen: Corporal Traer "Seppie" Lin (Sinrebirth)
--X-Wing​

OOC: Many thanks to @darthbernael for the beginning section involving the transports. Credit where credit is due.

This will be our first interactions together in some time. Make the most of them. I intend to get us into our first mission within a week, possibly a few more days depending on how quickly responses get posted. This game is like jumping onto a treadmill that's running from a dead start. It'll require a lot of me, and in some ways, require a bit of you. I know one thing. You're all eager to hop back into the cockpit. So am I.

Consider the Black Sheep fully restocked on munitions, planes, and any other supplies a combat squadron needs. We're back in action now.

Most importantly, please enjoy yourselves.

As usual if there are questions, concerns, etc, you know where to find me.

 

IC: Baniss Vermillion

Baniss heard the commotion from the hangar and turned around. He saw the Recon Xs before turning back around and heading to his quarters. He wanted to be the one that said he had ordered them, and that the reasons were classified just to show up the Sheep’s CO. He couldn’t really.

Baniss went back to his quarters to look up the new members of the squadron, and take another look at the old members of the squadron, who would be suitable for the Recon Xs, and he almost immediately removed Amber’s name from the list, among other things.

Looking at the new pilot, Maderus with the somewhat confusing callsign Spyguy, At least it isn’t named for a unit of speed, that would be weird. Baniss noticed that he had a history of slicing, which could be useful, the question would be how to approach him, catch him in the act, or something else. He would have to think about this.

TAG: @Vehn, (mention only) @Sgt.Matt

 

IC: Louise “Lou” Vehn/Airen Vehn
Intrepid Hangar

The formation broke and the verbal sithspit spewing out of Commander Firmus Khairn’s mouth ended. It wasn’t the first time, and probably not the last time, that Lou would be dressed down in front of her fellow pilots. She didn’t let it bother her too much. This new commanding officer was on a power trip. A one way ticket to get killed when, and if, the Sheep ever got off the ground.

Lou spotted her new Y-Wing being towed into its appropriate space. She jogged over and began to inspect the new plane once the tow vehicle was finished with its business. She ran a hand down the worn exterior and then began a visual inspection of all the components on the outside. The last thing she wanted was a plane that couldn’t perform under the stresses of combat.

“How’s she look, boss,” Airen Vehn, her husband and plane captain, asked as he wiped his greasy hands off on a shop towel.

“Used,” Lou grunted, “but she’ll do. I want you to load warheads immediately.”

“Slow and heavy or fast and responsive?” Airen queried.

“Slow and heavy,” Lou replied, “hard hitting.”

“You do realize that you’re not likely to see the void again unless you’ve got a date with the airlock I don’t know about,” Airen pointed out.

“I like to make sure I’m prepared. The war doesn’t stop just because we’re grounded,” Lou said, “make sure the rest of Charlie flight is loaded out as well.”

“You’re nervous,” Airen said he moved closer to Lou.

“Nervous that we’re grounded while the war rages around us? Yeah, I am,” Lou shot back growing irritated, “and don’t do that thing.”

“What thing?” Airen said as he wrapped an arm around Lou’s waist.

“That thing,” Lou replied as Airen drew her in for a kiss.

The pair locked lips ever so slightly but quickly parted after a neighboring mechanic dropped a hydrospanner and cursed.

Lou shook her head and rested her forehead against Airen’s greasy uniform. The smells of the hangar hit her hard in the nose. She was used to the smell now. Nothing really bothered her. Nothing except the knowledge that the Sheep had narrowly escaped the Serenity moon with the data they’d been after.

“This is all so wrong,” Lou groaned as she returned her gaze to her new craft.

“What exactly?” Airen asked.

“Wallings, Taab, Flagg, the last few weeks. Then we get this mysterious shipment of replacement munitions and craft. Nobody knows why. A diehard commanding officer who walks like he’s got something shoved so far up his-” Lou paused.

“Hey,” Airen said as he ran a hand gently through Lou’s hair, “you’re going to be fine.”

“The new flight assignments,” Lou rambled on, “they’ve got me leading B-Wings now. I mean sure it makes sense that all the heavy hitters are in one element but Y-Wings and B-Wings are not even really that closely related. The craft were bred for different roles. They fly differently. Their capabilities are different. Fortunately I’ve still got Joy. She’s been my right hand since I got here to this unit.”

“Lou-” Airen tried to interject.

“And Kid? I mean frak, Airen, you didn’t see the way her head was twisted at an unnatural angle. I mean I swore she was dead. I haven’t even heard an update on how she was doing. If she’s recovered. What her future holds. Kid was like the little sister I never had,” Lou continued.

“Lou-” Airen tried again.

Lou broke her gaze and looked into her husband’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“If there’s one thing I know about you its that you can handle this. The Alliance sent you here for a reason. You’ve earned those bars on your collar. More than earned them,” Airen replied, “trust yourself. Trust your experiences. Trust your gut.”

“Easy for you to say you’re not up there dueling with the Empire’s pilots,” Lou countered, “where one wrong move ends it all.”

“No,” Airen replied, “I’m down here making sure this plane keeps you in one piece where one wrong turn of my wrench ends it all. I’ve gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah, ok,” Lou said as she gave Airen’s hand a squeeze, “thanks.”

“See you later,” Airen said.

“Later,” Lou replied as she saw her new astromech droid being given a diagnostic scan.

She hadn’t come up with a name for it yet but it would come in time.

Hopefully this droid lives longer than the last one Lou thought as she made her way over to the flight assignment board to review, once more, the new developments for the Black Sheep.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron; @Sarge; @Mistress_Renata; @Rebecca_Daniels; @adaml83; @Sinrebirth; @darthbernael; @TheAdmiral; @Sgt.Matt; @Mira Grau; @Mitth_Fisto

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Location: Hangar of the Intrepid

Oooookay, the second time was not the charm; frakkin space deliveries Zero internally gave up his asking as he walked away from the broken mass of people; seemed like being the new fish meant nothing if your new CO decided to be a jerk, maybe he could try again sometime soon. "Better check my own A-Wing, make sure no one makes off with my goods" Zero muttered, making headway back to his A-Wing and avoiding passing by pilots unloading their material from the sleds. Materials like munitions, starship parts, electronic mechanisms for targeting computers, and other essential goodies; the young slicer could identify these were privately ordered by the rather erratic stamped logos on each crate, some were of off-the-record brands not seen in most Imperial factories. He then increased speed at the sight of a rather anxious astromech, trying to nudge away his metal cases from the A-Wings premises, making small grumpy whoopings. "Oi! Don't nudge that!" Zero nudged the droid aside from the cases, he pulled them away from the metal beings path and making sure nothing kickstarted inside.

{*#&*^!@&^%$} The droid warbled, annoyed.

"Well, I didn't know that you were assigned to give my ship a diagnostic. That doesn't mean you hassle a man's things while he's trying to introduce himself!" Zero countered the droid, his gold teeth reflecting light from the hangar ceiling. "Especially when it's to a fine piece of-"

{DUWOPP!} The astromech made a crackled, electric raspberry at the youth, before it started to do a small examination of the A-Wing he flew in on.

"Aw forget it," Zero sighed as he gathered his things and laid them on an unused mechanics bench; taking a sign of everyone working together with unloading, the slicer decided that intimate greetings would be saved for later. He decided to help out with the endeavor, begrudgingly as he could put it. Busying himself with a few droids and other pilots; the youth took in the various faces belonging to the crew, there was a couple who kissed while discussing some matter he couldn't hear over the commotion, a female officer or pilot screaming about "purple stripes", and a crimson-skinned devaronian that had some digital glint in his eye. The couple especially caught his eye; after doing various draining and pilfering of Imperial sectors, he could remember faces. They look rather familiar, I done multiple jobs and remember plenty of people that I stole from but who're they? Why can't I remember th-ACK! Zero broke concentration as the lowered crate of A-Wing parts slammed onto his toes and he hopped for a few minutes, droids aiding him snickered in scratched electric noises.

Laugh all you want, you little cans are definite slice material later Zero mentally grumbled as he laid aside a few crates of spare parts and ammunition at the end of the A-Wing on the hangar's side where he was. Hope somebody helps with unloading everything out, the mighty Zero "Spyguy" Maderas is not one for heavy brute labor like this; I should be cutting into private credit accounts and vaults with a nice drink or girl at my side, but not this.

His arms going numb from the heavy lifting, Zero took a seat on the boxes for a second to catch his breath.....

TAG: @Vehn @Mira Grau @Sarge @Sinrebirth @Adalia-Durron @darthbernael @Mistress_Renata @Rebecca_Daniels @TheAdmiral (And everyone else, including the NPC's, several hutt orphans, and the kitchen sink lol.)