Star Wars OPEN Star Wars: Black Sheep: Tales from the Squadron (Always Accepting New Players!)

GM Update Part One: Old Discoveries and New Discoveries

OOC: The following events take place several days after the party in the bar and any actions involving @Rebecca_Daniels and @Sinrebirth's characters. What happens with them will be revealed in a third GM update.

​

Debris Field





The aging dreadnaught Scimitar lay listless and dark on her side amongst the thousands of pieces of debris floating quietly around her. She had been hauled to the Knifong Boneyard a decade ago and left for rot. Her condition was questionable and any scans were incomplete due to interference from the debris field. It was decided that a team would be needed to investigate the dreadnaught. Determine if she was salvageable and find a way to haul her back to the budding Rebel fleet.

Captain Husk had just the team in mind....

---

Intrepid Hangar
Night Shift

The four Marines assigned to around the clock protection of the TIE Defender were growing fatigued. Nothing of note had really happened since the Defender had arrived. Yes, certain people had shown interest and wanted to tear it apart. From the intelligence officer to the mechanics everyone wanted a piece of the Empire’s latest and greatest.

A loud noise in the Sheep hangar drew the Marines interest. Two Marines walked away from their post to investigate. From their position they could look through the opening where the heavy blast doors would normally be closed and keep an eye on the Defender. Nobody was slipping by them. Nobody.

One of the Marines paused and shone a light around the darkened Sheep hangar trying to find the source of the unusual noise. A figure crouched behind an X-Wing and stayed still. The Marines conducted a sweep. After a few minutes, feeling satisfied their sweep was complete, the Marines moved back to their post leaving the Sheep hangar enshrouded in darkness once more. The figure, cursing quietly, slipped out of the hangar and casually resumed their duties as if nothing had ever happened.

Nothing at all.

---

Iona System
A Hop, Skip, and a Jump Away....



The Starfire and the Rising Sun were both CR90 corvettes enroute to the Intrepid. They’d just completed their fifth micro jump to throw off any Imperial tails. Therefore it was a surprise as they were about to enter their sixth jump when four Gozanti class cruisers erupted from hyperspace right in front of them.



The Gozantis began to dispatch their small TIE fighter contingent as the CR90s took evasive action. The lighter, more agile, Imperial cruisers quickly pounded away at the CR90s as they sent out a distress call for help. Neither Rebel ship had been prepared for battle and had been caught while most of their crew was sleeping.

They only hoped, as their shields dwindled, that reinforcements would come and save them from imminent Imperial boarding parties...

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

TBC.... ​

 

GM Update Part Two:
​

Black Sheep Ready Room
Sometime after the events of the Sheep Hangar....

Captain Adama Husk made his way to the Black Sheep squadron ready room. He was escorted to his destination by a large contingent of Marines and the CAG, Cort Spence. He entered the ready room and ordered the Marines to stand guard outside as the heavy ready room doors were locked behind him with a resounding clang.

Husk took the podium, the Sheep scrambling to attention, and stared at the Sheep for a long moment. He made eye contact with each and every one of them. He wanted them to know how much they meant to him. The squadron having risen in his eyes for the successful defense of the Intrepid. These were no longer names on a digital roster. These were real people. People he cared about.

“At ease, Sheep,” Husk said as he grasped the podium with two hands, “you’ll want to be seated for what I’m about to say. Now that the fun and games are over we’re back in business.”

Husk paused as he reviewed his notes. When he returned his attention to the Sheep a grave seriousness had descended upon his chiseled face.

“I wish I had good news but I don’t. Repairs on the Intrepid are progressing slowly. To further complicate matters the CAG has discovered from the various plane captains that someone sabotaged a decent amount of our craft several hours ago with a virus. Most, if not all, of the Sheep planes are grounded. From what we can tell two X-Wings from Able and two A-Wings from Baker are still spaceworthy along with the Recon X's. That means the rest of us will be staying hangar side until we figure out this mess."

Husk could see the borderline shock, disappoint, and rage that erupted across the pilots faces. The Sheep were quickly becoming the go to squadron on the Intrepid. Now they would be grounded and facing time out while the Intruders and Vipers continued to fly CAP around the two Rebel ships.

“In addition to all this we received a distress call from two CR90s corvettes in the next system over. They were scheduled to join our budding fleet and were interdicted by several Gozanti cruisers. They need our help immediately. CAG, your briefing,” Husk said stepping aside.

CAG Cort Spence cleared his throat:

“Captain Balzroth, you will lead a combined flight element consisting of two A-Wings and two X-Wings, loaded with proton torpedoes, to knock out those Gozanti cruisers and help escort our smaller capital ships home. Schedule a series of micro-jumps on the way and back to confuse any tracking systems. Assigned to your hybrid flight is Flight Officer Tehanis, Sergeant Malek, and Flight Officer Jasmyn Tafui. Coordinates have already been given to you via datapad. Best of luck and good hunting. Bring our ships home.”

Husk took the podium, “The rest of you will have assignments as follows. Sergeant Sunwalker, based on your previous experience with TIE Defenders, you will inspect the Defender for any sabotage and if she's clear take it out on a test flight. Captain Finnefrael may take one of the Recon X’s and see what the Defender can and cannot do. You are not to hyper out of the system under any circumstances. Put the craft through its paces. Push it. Report back to the CAG when you're done."

“Zero, I hear you have some knowledge of ship's systems. I need you to root out this virus and get our birds ready to fly again.” Husk said, “make sure our ship systems are entirely clean. Go slow and be thorough. We don't want any more chance encounters with the Empire if we can help it."

Husk cleared his throat.

“I know tensions on the ship have been alarmingly high. We’ve all been under a great deal of stress. I can say with confidence that what we’re doing here at the Knifong Boneyard is important. I won’t reveal all the details but it starts with you. Each and every one of you. It also starts with acquiring and possibly resurrecting old ships. We found one here recently. An aging dreadnaught. She’s in decent condition but we aim to see just what she is capable of achieving and adding her to the fleet as well.”

Husk paused.

“Lieutenant Louise Vehn you will be accompanied by a small force of Marines, mechanics, and pilots. It is your job to bring that dreadnaught home to us. She’s not very far from our location but her systems have been shut down for a long time. It’s time she returned home."

Husk looked around the room. Now for the really dangerous stuff. The uncomfortable moments.

“Lieutenant Pallas, Agent Vermillion, Major Hollymander, you will stay behind and speak with me. The rest of you. Dismissed.”

TBC....

OOC: There will be a third update. The majority of you have your assignments and can work within those parameters. Any questions feel free to reach out to me. Otherwise, good luck. ​

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

 

OOC: Combo with Becca. I'm sure you're all totally surprised.

IC: Kayn & Zara
Hard Time

Kayn's brain felt like mush. Too agitated to sit and wait outside Medbay, he had gone to the hangar and asked everyone who had been there what they had seen. From their confused recollections, all he was sure of was that there had been a struggle and Kio had been shot. A new transfer from Sanguinity may have been involved.

Returning to his quarters, he had laid in the dark staring at the ceiling for an hour before giving up on sleep and going to the gym to spend the rest of the night trying to sweat the booze out of his body. Freshly showered and shaved, he was at the ship's brig the moment visiting hours began. He showed his ID to the marine on duty. "I'm Captain Kayn Balzroth, supervisor to Zara Yaren. I need to speak to her." His voice sounded strange in his own ears, lower and rougher than usual.


Zara stared at the wall, letting the pounding in her head sink in. This was better, quieter than the medbay would have been. Easier to think about what she'd done wrong. If she'd been faster, maybe. Stepped away for a clear shot. Reacted less on instinct. She still would be here, but at least she'd have that satisfaction. And now no one would finish the job for her. Instead she had the wall, counting down an unknown number of minutes until someone decided it was over.

"Hey, Zara, you got a minute?" Kayn kept his voice down, assuming she was still recovering from being knocked unconscious. He was a little surprised the guards had let him into her cell. Maybe they assumed an injured Twi'lek was no threat to him. He wasn't about to argue with them.

"I have every minute now," she said, keeping her eyes on the wall. Her voice was flat; she didn't have the energy to be angry right now. Of course he was the first one here, the only one here. She had to change that. "What do you want?"

"Tell me what happened."

"There isn't anything to tell." She shifted in her seat. "I shot someone and I'm here now. Seems pretty simple to me."

Zara's lack of tone worried Kayn. He was used to her tough shell of sarcasm and cynicism, but he knew there was more to her than that. He had caught an occasional glimpse of a bookish little girl who sang songs with her father, not often, he could just about count the number of times on his horns. Not now, though. She seemed past caring.

"It's not that simple. I've been asking anyone who was there, and they all tell it differently. We need to hear it from your point of view so we can get you out of here. Come on, Zara, talk to me. You know I'm on your side."

"Don't be an idiot, I'm not getting out of here," she said, leaning her head against the wall. "They're just waiting to find out if it's murder or just attempted murder." And they were definitely getting his side of the story. It was all a matter of when, not if. "I saw someone who deserves to die and Kio got in the way. I don't regret it and I'd do it again if I had the chance." She paused. "How's that for a statement?"

"Yeah, we'll have to work on that. Now tell me who deserves to die, and why."

Zara closed her eyes. She hadn't had to explain the whole story before, and wasn't sure she was going to now.

"I don't know what name he's going by now, but I knew him as Yvan Sifer. He's the one that destroyed the Denon cell, and if he's here he's going to do it again."

"Denon cell... Your first unit? Are you telling me there's an Imperial agent on board right now?" Kayn realized his voice was rising. He continued in a lower tone. "How do I find him?"

"I don't know what he is, or what he's telling people." She struggled to separate the memories, new and old all mixing together. "He was on– I saw him on–" The name of the planet escaped her. "Where we were three weeks ago. Couldn't get a clear shot and then he left, last shuttle off before we burned that place."

"He was on Serenity? That would make sense. Doesn't help us find him now, though. Hells, he could be sabotaging Intrepid right now. Would anyone else recognize him?" Kayn tried to force his sluggish mind to work. They needed to get Zara out of here and searching for the man. But that wasn't going to happen easily, what with her being held as a murder suspect. He snapped his fingers. "Hold on, let me try something. I ought to be able to access ship's personnel office, see who's transferred aboard most recently." He pulled his datapad out of a pocket and brought up recent transfer orders. The unsecured files didn't hold much in the way of personal data, but most of them included facial images. He held the datapad in front of her and began flipping through images.

"Kayn," she sighed and rubbed her face. This was obviously a distraction for him, something to jump into headfirst since there was nothing he could do for her case. "He was with us for years before he did anything. I doubt the ship's going to explode any time soon." Anyway, she didn't want him caught, she wanted him dead. That was the only acceptable outcome, but not one she was going to get a shot at again any time soon. Or ever.

He was brought up short and stared at her in surprise. "How hard did you get hit in the head? Are you concussed? You never call me Kayn."

"Kayn," she repeated. "Stop it." Zara rubbed her face and let every twinge of pain sink in as she pressed into bruises. "Stop looking for a way out."

He had never seen her like this, so hopeless and drained, and it disturbed him. Maybe I can get Dr Raynor to talk to her. He gently took both her hands and drew them down from her face, looking into her eyes. "Not now, Zara, not ever." His voice was soft and steady. "As long as you've been my wingmate, you've never abandoned me, and no way in the nine hells am I giving up on you. I care, remember? You told me so yourself after Son Tay."

"If you'd have been there, I would have shot you too." It wasn't even a lie. "So maybe you shouldn't."

"I've made a life out of doing what I shouldn't, and look where it's gotten me, flight captain of the best flight in the best squadron in the Rebel Alliance. I wouldn't be here today without you, and I know how much I depend on you. I'd be dead a dozen times over without you, and we both know I don't stand a chance of living through this war if you're not out there on my wing. So we're going to fight this and make it right and get you back where you belong. If we don't, then Yvan Sifer wins. Because you gave up and let him get away with murder. Look, I know you're exhausted and hurting in every way possible right now, and there's no sign of any way to win, of course you're discouraged. So am I. But we'll figure something out. You know I always come up with a plan. Great plans and talking too much, that's me in a nutshell, right?"

"Justice isn't that simple." An eye for an eye for an eye. If she deserved her vengeance then Kio deserved his. "They're just trying to decide which airlock to shove me out of. You'll be fine."

He let go of her hands and took a reluctant step back. "You've been through the wringer in ways I can't even imagine, and I can't blame you for feeling beaten. I think you need some space right now. But I will be back, and we will overcome, somehow. Details are pretty vague as to how, but we will find a way. Sifer won't beat us, not again. I promise you that, Zara."

Maybe if she banged her head against the wall a few times she could sleep. It would be better than this, at any rate.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."


TAG: @Rebecca_Daniels and all you nosy eavesdroppers hoping for some juicy gossip. Just let us have a moment of privacy, for crying out loud!

 

IC: Maxime "Max" Pallas, Zero "Spyguy" Maderas
Watering Hole, evening after the battle

Max felt better after a shower and a nap. She stuffed herself in the mess hall and headed to the pilots' lounge, since she owed a few people drinks. It was surprisingly empty. An unfamiliar droid was behind the bar, someone was singing (and it wasn't Kayn, which was odd). She got some of the latest output from the engineering section...it wasn't bad, but there had to be some way to emulate the smokiness of a true Corellian whiskey. As she sipped, she noticed the new guy, sitting at a dejarik board, looking around hopefully. Isn't he supposed to be a slicer? People skills, Max.

She wandered over. "Hey," she said. "You're the new guy in B-flight, right? I'm Max. A-flight."

Zero was elated by the sight of a new challenger, she was garbed in the rather standard Rebel uniforms that he was used to back in the regular corps prior to his transfer. You've another female in your presence and fellow teammate no doubt, Zero old buddy, don't frak this up bad! The slicer outstretched his hand to shake the other pilots with a warm smile, showing off his golden teeth. "Indeed I am the new guy on B-Flight, Zero Maderas or "Spyguy" to others, pleasure to meet you."

"Spyguy?" Max raised an eyebrow as she accepted the proffered hand and took a seat.

"My nickname, got it from the regular joes up back in the other corps, mainly due to my reputation and skills as a slicer." Zero unclipped his datapad from his utility belt, he always made sure to have it around on hand for any situation. Laying it on the table, he flicked on the various wanted posters he kept saved on the small device for show. "Unlike some slicers who are wanted for simple defacement or jamming of signals, I decided to one-up the status quo by pilfering from Imperial accounts of their passwords and data; stuff like private bank account access or risque material. This has unfortunately granted a slicer like me a growing bounty in 17 sectors, most Imperials don't like it when their clandestine information and bank account passwords are copied and sold to the highest bidder" Zero then flicked up another display in his pad, a ongoing library of various red and green files swiveled into perspective bearing titles written only in huttese, the slicer was now unveiling his private database to his fellow rebels.

"What I'm showing to you now is my private database of hacked material from dozens, upon dozens of Imperial facilities stretching up to CSA protected territories. This stuff is for Rebels and Rebels only, your alliance gave a slicer like me a chance at living again, and my venerable library are free for any mission required" Zero nbudged the datapad to the young pilot he was chatting with, for the first time, he felt comfortable with sharing a peek into his private vault with a fellow alliance member. "Go ahead and take a peek if ya like"

Max stared at him in disbelief, then looked down at the data. "So, a competent slicer, but not much of a spy," she said. "The thing about slicing from the Imps is that you don't WANT them to know their data's been compromised. Because you might want to go in again. You get in, you get out, and they never know about it." She flicked over the display, looking to see where he'd been active.

"See here's the thing, I never go in noticed by the Imperials unless if their terminals are stronger than my tools, several of which are of my own digital handiwork. If you see twin purple dots on either side of the screen, don't touch them, they're my password protectors" Zero grabbed an untouched bottle of Chandrilan beer and pulled it over to the table with a few glasses, he poured himself a glass with another for Max. "Those dots are handmade 'password protectors', forged out of Imperial and Corpo encryption apps; these little guys are practically a cloaking field for slicers. Have them on your datapad when delving into a terminal and your invisible to security eyes, except for those with higher security measures like the models used by the ISB elite; I made a personal mistake trying to hack into them and it caused me to get noticed for the first time by law enforcement, what a mess that was."

Maderas gulped back a shot of liquor before continuing his conversation, his voice a little bit more relaxed than usual. "You seem to know slicing very well, would you like one of protectors? I got six with me and knowing that there are others like me, I would like to make sure us Rebel hackers are well-armed in the digital realm."

"Uh, sure." Max shook her head. "I'm just saying, it pays to be a bit more...invisible. The fact that you're wanted in 17 systems isn't a good thing. Is Zero Materas your real name?" She looked at his list again. Lanteras? If he was the one who had sliced Lanteras...

"Indeed it does pay extremely well to be invisible but as you can probably tell by my bounty; it wasn't so good.....though that was before I had lost my partner....." Zero blanked out for a moment as if some memory struck something sad, he shook his head back to his calm state. "Zero Maderas is my real name, Materas was just an alias after a successful job liquidating the CSA slave barracks of their slaves and hacking their warehouses; gave them quite a heart attack when around 55 thousand slaves made off with their private shuttles. I'm not much a man for the enslavement of others, the reason my partner met with me in the first place...."

"You don't have family, though, do you? Using your real name could put them in jeopardy?" Max glanced around the room, hoping to be rescued. The new guy was a lot more chatty than she'd anticipated. And she knew a lot more about him than she'd expected to, something else that suggested he wasn't as good at Intel as he claimed to be.

"Here's the thing, I don't and I'm not exactly fond of those who doubt my abilities" Zero then eyed her with a serious stare, his voice turned stern at the subject of family and his nails dug into the soft rubber of the underside of the table. Stupid idea it was to share out in the open, she's probably in with that jerky CO that hauled me in with Mermaid here, maybe I should prove myself to this girl's eye that I'm the real deal. Digging into his pocket, the slicer made a move he promised to never do in a million years; pulled out was a small datachip and he slid it towards the young woman with a steely gaze void of any warmth. "Your questioning tells me that you doubt my abilities, open up the file titled 'Lanteras and Dizonite', tell me that isn't a decent job as a slicer. I may seem like some podunk slime pulled up from the street, but in that file and in this chip in my hands, it says otherwise" Zero whispered, serious as the grave.

Max cocked her head. This guy really liked talking about himself. "I don't question your abilities," she said. "If you did the Lanteras job, you're good, even though you screwed us over, but I'll let that go. My group sliced Lanteras a while back, and we were monitoring the requisitions the Imps were running through. We could see what they were ordering and where they were sending it. More than that, if we needed something, we could fake our own reqs and insert them into the system. Find out when delivery would be and raid the supply ship. It was a nice gig. Until someone else sliced them and wasn't subtle about it. All of a sudden, there were security realignments, new triggers everywhere, and a complete desk audit of every requisition and transaction that had been sent out for the last ten years. We didn't dare go in after that. We'd draw too much attention to ourselves. And that's the point I'm trying to make." She leaned forward and looked at him earnestly.

"You might be good. But you need to be a lot less flashy. I mean, look at how much info you've given me and I've only just met you. Your name is on wanted posters all over the galaxy, and you seem to be proud of that. But now you're on their radar. And in our gig, you need to be invisible. It's a lot easier to slice the Imps when they don't know you've done it, and when they're not looking out for you. Stop trying so hard." She leaned back. He was looking a bit red in the face. Probably time to change the subject. "On an unrelated note, how do you feel about Corellian whiskey? I could use an independent opinion."

She had a point, he was acting a bit more flashy than normal and the concept of this outfit being more stealth based silenced the rather showy slicer. Turning rather flushed with embarrassment with a slight tinge of shame, Zero conceded to the points dropped to him. "Sorry about that then....not exactly the proudest of moments for me, if you guys were harmed by my act then I concede that my acts went a bit too far, not exactly the best of my abilities. And you're right, I'm flashy for this outfit and it should be mandatory that I quit being a tryhard in times like this" Maderas swung back from the last of his glass before handing the bottle over to Maxine. "For whatever accident that happened in the past, let my own penance be changing my ways and tune for the betterment of the alliance. By the way, Corellian Whiskey is a good drink to mix with Neimoidian 'Black Fungus' scotch, try it, the stuff would smack the horns off a reek."

Zero then decided that there needed to be some slight levity, maybe he might introduce another to his infamous love of scotch. He blew a whistle towards the tender, "Can I have a bottle of 'Black Fungius' for me and my friend here, my good droid!" He alleviated himself from the prior moment of going ballistic to catch a thrown jug of scotch thrown by the droid tender, before safely laying the bottle down in similar succession toward the other pilot. "Not to seem a bit abrupt but do you enjoy scotch? this is the second bottle the tender has next to that grimy Naboo gin."

TAG: Anyone who wants to rescue Max from weird alcohol

 

IC: Captain Kayn "Purple on my Mind" Balzroth
Black Sheep Ready Room, aka, The Pen

“Captain Balzroth, you will lead a combined flight element consisting of two A-Wings and two X-Wings, loaded with proton torpedoes, to knock out those Gozanti cruisers and help escort our smaller capital ships home. Schedule a series of micro-jumps on the way and back to confuse any tracking systems. Assigned to your hybrid flight is Flight Officer Tehanis, Sergeant Malek, and Flight Officer Jasmyn Tafui. Coordinates have already been given to you via datapad. Best of luck and good hunting. Bring our ships home.”

Kayn was on his feet before CAG Spence finished speaking. "Sheep Flight, move! While we're dawdling rebels are dying. Scramble now, no stopping for the fresher, and we'll brief on route." He was out the door and running for the hangar before anyone answered.

I'll be flying without her on my wing. The thought made his gut clench. Mermaid was a fine pilot, but she didn't know him or his moves. And this was no blue milk run; multiple Gozantis, each capable of hauling multiple TIEs, meant they'd be heavily outnumbered.

On the other horn, maybe this was exactly what he needed. He'd spent the last few days obsessing over Zara's situation and fruitlessly trying to help her. Maybe a good furball would clear his head and he'd be able to come back with a fresh perspective. It would be good to put her out of his mind for a while.

He sprinted into the hangar and turned toward his ship, then suddenly pulled up short. Rebel Rouser was parked with several access panels off. Avionics techs had diagnostic units plugged in to the systems.

"Over 'ere, Cap'm." Lughdyt waved at him from the all-black A-wing. "This'n 'n' Mermaid's are th' only A-wings we c'n trust right now. She's fully fueled, warming up, 'n' armed wit' four torpedoes.".

Frack.

He seized his life support gear and helmet as Lug handed them to him, donning them quickly as he scrambled up and across the black hull. Peering into the cockpit, he felt like he was violating her privacy, or reading her diary without permission. He jumped into the seat, banged his knees on her instrument panel, cursed, and adjusted the seat backwards to accommodate his legs.

Lug was helping with the strapping and pointing to the engine panel. "Just finished th' booster mods last night, Cap'm. Same as yers, but th' controls a bit more refined. See this knob, push it 'n' it'll shut down yer shields 'n' weapons, twist it fer however much boost y' want. It don't do much good 'til it's maxed out."

Kayn felt like he should be chewing out Lughdyt for modding the ship without consulting the plane captain or pilot, but now was not the time. He suspected the Ugnaught was dealing with stress the only way he knew how, by fixing things.

Not many A-wings came from factory assembly lines; a lot were mostly hand-built custom jobs, and they had many individual quirks and differences. For one thing, the instruments were laid out differently, as were some of the systems panels. Worse, his ship had a joystick on the right armrest for manual control, while hers had a center yoke. He hadn't flown with a yoke since flying an X-wing out of Hoth, months ago. And he'd have to do all the piloting manually; her ship wasn't set up for his neural interface.

None of that could be helped. There was a mission to fly. Zayn was pointing at him with his marshalling wands, holding them up like horns, then down like headtails, and shrugging in confusion. Yeah, no, thanks Zayn, but the last thing I need to think about right now is headtails. He took the yoke in his hands and lifted, and the A-wing surged into the air, wobbled as he over-corrected, and turned for open space. The canopy was still open, not closing when he thought about closing it, then remembered he'd have to do that manually too. This manual piloting is a royal pain. I owe Zara more respect for flying like this. No! No more thinking about her! He finally got the canopy closed. What was that smell? Did her ship smell like wildflowers? He shook his head angrily.

Finally, he was clear of Intrepid and moving to a safe jump area. He fumbled with his datapad, plugging it into the nav systems and manually checking the hyperspace coordinates. Realizing he was spending way too much time heads down in the cockpit, he looked around for the others. The A-wing and X-wings were in a very loose formation, which was wise, considering how erratic his flying was. He rocked his wings to signal readiness and waved forward in the signal to jump.


TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Mira Grau @Rebecca_Daniels

 

GM Update Part Three:



OOC: There may be a part four...
​

IC: Captain Adama Husk
Black Sheep Ready Room
AKA The Pen

Captain Husk waited for the tell tale clang of the security doors to close and seal before continuing to brief the three remaining members of Black Sheep squadron. He made eye contact with Major Hollymander, Lieutenant Pallas, and Agent Vermillion. These were the three beings on the vessel he trusted the most. Short of Colonel Teague, his XO.

"Let's get right down to it, shall we?" Husk said, "We have a leak on this ship. A mole. That much is clear. Last night's mission against the Sheep is proof that this person is bold enough to start doing flagrant acts of sabotage. Even with a Marine guard present. That concerns me. Lieutenant Pallas here has ideas on how to pursue our theory about the Intrepid's comm array being compromised. Let's get that squared away first. We also need to gather evidence if the mole has any other members of the crew helping him/her. I can't stress enough how discretion is highly recommended. If we tip off the mole we could wind up being in a very difficult situation. I leave the specifics of how you'd like to interview questionable personnel up to you. Just be careful. Consider yourselves free to interview senior command staff as needed. If you run into any difficulties you know where to find me."

Husk paused as he was about to leave the room.

"If you do suspect someone, if something seems off, report to me directly before taking any action. I can't afford to have a repeat of what happened with Zara Yaren."

Husk closed his eyes. The stress of the moment was overwhelming.

Zara Yaren. Traer Lin.

What the frak am I going to do with them?




OOC: I am entrusting the three of you to be creative. I left it wide open for a variety of avenues to be taken. Please do not hesitate to reach out if you want clarification. I know all three of you can work well together. I am curious to see what you develop and how you solve this problem. Please don't feel pressured to name a mole or anything like that. Just know that the situation is serious enough for the mole to now warrant express attention.

Tag: @Adalia-Durron; @adaml83; @Mistress_Renata; @Rebecca_Daniels (for the mention); @Sinrebirth (for the mention)

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Black Sheep Nerve Center
“Zero, I hear you have some knowledge of ship's systems. I need you to root out this virus and get our birds ready to fly again, make sure our ship systems are entirely clean. Go slow and be thorough. We don't want any more chance encounters with the Empire if we can help it."

Zero blinked in surprise at the mention of his name, or at least what would be his first name or Zara who got placed into Medbay a few days ago, nevertheless, he was surprised at this briefing. Over the last few days, the slicer had taken time to look over his flashy style and the words mentioned back in the bar, it made him contemplate a new stealthier approach for this Rebel outfit he was placed into. Upon the completion of the debriefing, the young man then ran out of the ready-room to collect his tools for this "virus" problem that the captain had mentioned. Back in his room was a slicing toolkit he kept close as any lover, there was no doubt he needed some of the gadgets for any foreseeable endeavor. Better hope my skills are up to snuff on this matter, these guys depend on digital rebels like me or that pilot, Maxine. Zero rushed faster to his bunk room, grabbed the rusted metal case under his mattress, and ran out at similar speed to the hangar where the viruses were said to be plaguing the ship.

Aw frak.....

Zero Maderas took a headcount of all the birds grounded as the taskforces flew out the hangar in the sparse ships untouched; this was going to be a long job but the captain's orders were orders. "Okay, Spyguy, don't be flashy today; be the man that Luma swooned over when you first met" Zero took a headcount of all the ships, before finally deciding on the nearest X-Wing that was close to him. "Let's get dangerous."

Running to the untouched X-Wing and tossing his case onto the left wing, the youth hopped five times before finally gripping onto the wing, climbing up it like a chubafly to offal. "All right my deary, let's see what's making you sick today" Zero carefully balanced while trodding to the cockpit, the canopy swung open after pressing the unlock node. "Okay, okay, let's see what your internal computers have to say to the good slicing doctor..."

Tag: @Vehn , @Sinrebirth , @Mistress_Renata , @Adalia-Durron , @adaml83 , @Rebecca_Daniels (And anyone else who's in need of a virus tune-up, any takers?)

 

Mini-GM Update:​

The Virus
Intrepid Hangar​

​

The computer virus was powerful. Complicated. Operating on the warpath. Whoever designed it had known what they were doing.

The virus was also spreading to other systems on the network.

The powerful code had somehow jumped to encompass Intruder and Viper squadrons. The Intrepid was now a sitting duck should any Imperial forces stumble across the wreckage strewn throughout this particular sector of space. Firewalls built into the Intrepid's mainframe were fighting hard to fend off the virus from taking over the ship entirely. If it should succeed entire systems could be shut down. Lighting, heat, defenses, and most importantly, life support.

There was one weakness, however, in the code. A weakness that a skilled slicer could ferret out and exploit.

The virus wasn't capable of self replicating. It was, if properly defeated, a one and done kind of thing.

The only question left in the minds of those who were racing to fight the virus off was how long it would take before it burned itself out and if it didn't how much damage would it do to the Intrepid and the squadrons who operated off her decks...

Tag: @Sgt.Matt (All you!)

---

Iona System

The two Corellian corvettes were struggling hard against the Gozanti cruisers and their TIE fighters. Both ships hyperdrive motivators were threatening to collapse under the withering turbolaser attack. The strafing runs by the TIEs weren't helping either. Both corvette captains had been in constant communication with one another as they pushed their aging vessels to outrun the more powerful Imperial cruisers. They'd even started to perform a type of weave maneuver to cover the other as they jockeyed for time. Jockeyed for prayers. Jockeyed for anything useful.

"Come on, come on!" one of the captains cursed, "Where are those reinforcements!"

Tag: @Sarge (feel free to hyper into the system and create some havoc. This will help this portion of the story pace well with the other pieces)

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Into The Viral Yonder!
Whoever developed the virus, Zero had to hand it to them; it was a wildfire.

It took him only a few minutes to connect his datapad tubes and wiring to the X-Wing’s network, an easy task for small-time slicers in the field. Yet, what he found corroding the main applications of the craft was a digital inferno. A dark red malware system had changed the regular blue glow, causing functions to scramble or glitch in lettering, before showing signs of deep lag. Zero had a grand stand view of this through his protected datapad, internally he was frightened but this was no time for fear. Okay this seems to be an advanced malware, from the red hues and erupting scramblage of the network, this virus seems to be a hybrid baby. Pressing a few key codes from his pads electronic keys, he inserted a few erasing encryptions into the ship's systems for a simple test.

Tests are good for something like this, reminds me of that triple virus-lock on Hypori, unlike that malware, this one is spreading faster. Booted into the system, the red hue clashed against a green shroud that slowly darkened the glowing red coloring, Zero crossed his fingers for the malware to at least budge.

Screen then made a shrilly screech as the green dissipated into pixelled nothingness, the slicer punched his seat in frustration and cussed, before going back hard into the system. He rapidly pressed code after code, encryption after encryption, and many tools that years back could wash away malware viruses like blue butter in water. But this was different, someone had customized this virus to linger until the electronic systems were weakened.

At every added safeguard, Zero pulled his hair at the electronic screech as the networks exfoliated his very toolshed of codes, it was only till the near end that this virus ate through this before the Intrepid itself. “GAH! FRAK! Why can’t this germ be cured!!!” Maderas growled, his voice igniting. “Custom germs walling this up in fire would need a drill just to plow through the red sh-”

Zero halted his rage and continued hacking at the sentence.

Drill to plow.

“Yes, the process would be long but not long for death of the computer, gonna have to bust out the other tools!” Zero exclaimed, sweating furiously. “Better be careful on this, one single mess up could screw my digital screen.”

Clicking a password into a file folder on his datapad, the slicer pulled out a miniature attachment and wired it to his datapad. The attachment which was a small orb on a cylindrical rod unraveled to reveal a small satellite dish. “Dish connected, that’ll give me some protection in boring into the malware insides without damaging the system or me, though that means I have to have the force on my side for the next few tricks in my sleeve.”

Gazing back at his commlink, the slicer thought over giving a status report to his superiors or others in the hangar. Would they want to know about his daring act? He shook his head before, looking back once more.

Zero then grabbed the small device and left behind a quick message for his superiors. “This Zero Maderas, I’m about to undertake digitally drilling into the malware evergrowing inferno; my slicing dish tool will protect me from the systems damage and attempt to find weaknesses in the virus, over and out.”

Click! SWEEENNNNN!

“Okay little virus” Zero started to delve into the red screen with a smug, evil smile. “Let’s see what makes you tick!”

The dish tool spun around as he started to flicker past glitching networks and systems, his eyes furrowed as he now started to search hard, while ignoring all other noises around him…

Tag: (Anyone on the deck or in the mission control, I am air-frying chicken while doing this first virus post!)

 

Maxime “Max” Pallas
Black Sheep Nerve Center (we have one of these?)
The Intrepid

It was horrifying to hear of the computer virus striking the ships. It had to be the mole, and whoever it was was getting bolder. Then again, mused Max, the loss of not one but TWO Defenders must have emboldened him. Or her. So not just bolder, but more desperate and therefore dangerous. Of course, desperation could lead to stupid mistakes. And his or her subsequent capture.

Although she was still nominally the leader of A-flight (as far as she knew), she wasn’t bothered that Tehanis and Malek were being sent up in the two good X-wings. She would have volunteered to stay behind to go after the virus anyway. It was, after all, what she’d done in civilian life. When she wasn’t planting the viruses, of course. She was curious to know what type it was, because that might tell a lot about the person who planted it. And so she blinked in surprise when the new guy, Zero, was assigned to the task. He was a slicer, so in theory that made sense. And yet…he was good, but he wasn’t great. Good slicers were wanted in 17 systems. Great slicers weren’t wanted anywhere, because they were skillful enough not to get caught.

Until she heard Husk’s assignment. Yes, now it made sense. She eyed the other two. They hadn’t taken her concerns very seriously up to now. But the spy’s actions were so blatant, it couldn’t be denied. She listened carefully to Husk’s orders. He left the room, and she turned to face the others, folding her arms across her chest. For a moment, no one said anything.

Then Max cleared her throat. “Well?” she asked. "Where do you want to start?"

TAG: @adaml83, @Adalia-Durron, @Vehn

 

IC: 21-B33R
Watering Hole, Intrepid

As everyone began to unwind from the excitement of the battle and their successful escape, 2-1B33R was unsurprised to see several of the crew filtering into the Watering Hole. In fact, he was glad. Clearly these were well-adjusted beings who knew that a drink was good for health and optimal functioning.

The first patron was Petty Officer Airen Vehn. After opening, the droid had plugged into the ship’s personnel records so it could have them handy. (Of course, this was the Rebel Alliance, not the Galactic Empire. Keeping records up-to-date was not always the first priority in the Rebellion.) Former Imperial—but that was no mark against him. Half the Alliance probably was. He’d seen some heavy duty. Some redacted pieces, which 2-1B33R didn’t find surprising given this squadron.

“Of course I have a name. Two-One-Bee-Three-Three-Are,” the droid said, enunciating each letter in its designation. “Something strong that won’t have you thinking about work...” 2-1B33R searched its databanks. It was a short search. “Yes. I have it.”

He started pulling bottles. Barrel-aged whiskey, cynar, vermouth, bitters…a citrus peel garnish. “A Rancor’s Toothpick. Should do the trick. If not, take two and call me in the morning.”

The song on the jukebox ticked over to a shuffle beat with a steady, thumping beat punctuated by a red ball jett organ. Perhaps a full purge of the memory banks would be premature.

“Something of a theme song for this squadron, perhaps?” 2-1B33R suggested as it ingested the lyrics.

Before Vehn could reply, a new patron walked in—one who had much to celebrate. Lieutenant—well, perhaps Captian now—Kayn Balzroth. The Devaronian looked happy, so happy that he probably didn’t care what he got served as long as it kept coming.

2-1B33R slid over to provide a drink to Balzroth. He grabbed a bottle of Lomin ale, a good standby for a being looking to drink a lot, from the cooler, used an expert flick against one servoclamp to remove the cap, and put it in front of the pilot, wisps of cold wafting off the mouth of the bottle. “Courtesy of a raid of Imperial stores, drinks are on the Rebellion. Please enjoy yourself.”

When Balzroth launched into karaoke, 2-1B33R regretted the statement.

Balzroth’s offer to pay reminded the droid to speak with the captain. It would be good to send a team on a beer run (so to speak) the next time they heard of a lightly defended Imperial canteen.

It wasn’t long before another pilot burst into the Watering Hole, seemingly in good spirits too. Zero Maderas sidled up to the bar. A recent addition to the Black Sheep, according to his file…which Maderas decided to supplement with boasts about how many authorities wanted him throughout the galaxy. It was no wonder that he’d wound up in the Alliance. He probably spent so much time looking over his shoulder that joining an insurgency was natural.

“Two-One-Bee-Three-Three-Are. A pleasure. A shot and a brew…. Thinking of an Iridonian speeder bomb?” 2-1B33R commented. It considered Maderas’s request for its “strongest stuff.” 2-1B33R had encountered plenty of Rebels like him, beings who liked to show how tough they were.

2-1B33R considered the bottle of Kashyyykan bitter berry beer in the cooler. The droid was pretty sure the Human would keel over from something that stiff. Cross-referencing with the details of Maderas’s file, 2-1B33R made a decision.

“You said you were looking for a brew, which most beings would interpret as a beer, but I don’t believe that’s your style, is it?” the medical droid mused. It pulled out a bottle of scotch and gave a pour. “I suspect this will go well with whatever else you may have…liberated for yourself?” In unloading the bar, 2-1B33R had noticed a missing bottle of Black Fungus. It was a suspicion on the droid’s part, but a strong one.

It served up a second glass with a shot of spotchka to accompany the scotch. “This should do the trick,” 2-1B33R said, sliding them across. “Enjoy.”

The droid gave Vehn a look to make sure the mechanic was doing well.

Sometime later, an Ughnaut came in and spoke to Balzroth. Something in the Devaronian changed as the crew chief spoke to the pilot. His face fell and it was like he sobered up instantly. Something was up. 2-1B33R had a feeling it would hear about it soon enough.

Maderas wandered over to the dejarik table, looking for an opponent. 2-1B33R would have to inspect it later, make sure that it hadn’t been tampered with. Nothing disrupted a bar like accusations of cheating and 2-1B33R just didn’t have the circuits to deal with that kind of grief.

Soon another Sheep came in, Flight Officer Pallas. A Corellian…so her drink of choice was a pretty safe bet. And speaking of drinks, she was serving herself from something. Curious, and another item for the list of work to be done later. She wandered over to Maderas and the derjarik table and the two got to talking at length.

2-1B33R got to other business—until a whistle cut through the Watering Hole, slicing through the music. It was Maderas, requesting another bottle of the Black Fungus. The way he held his hand out, it seemed like he thought 2-1B33R was going to…throw it to him?

The droid had seen a lot in post cantinas and ship bars, but this was new.

2-1B33R removed a bottle of Black Fungus and set it on the bar carefully. “Unless I’ve suddenly been transformed into a Pa’lowick entertainer, I’m going to assume you were whistling at someone else,” the droid said evenly. “And I’ll also assume that you’re not too drunk to stand up and get your own liquor. Because if you are, then you’re cut off.”

It seemed the moment had come to establish the rules of this Watering Hole.

TAG: @Sarge @Sgt.Matt @Vehn and if I missed someone, just holler
And as for any errors in this post about character biographies? I blame the library thread being out-of-date.

 

Updated CS GM Approved

Character's Name: Artemis "Artie" Deco

Callsign: Art

Species: Human

Gender: Male

Rank/Affiliation: Flight Officer, Rebel Alliance

Languages:Basic, Droidspeak

Residence: Currently none, looking for a new home

Home Planet: Commenor

Age: 26

Approved Special Features (any force sensitivity would go here ): None

Character Traits: Can get nervous if gets into a serious situation, inexperienced so far in war

Personality:Honest, easy going, gets along with most people with his polite attitude, always has a smile on his face but can be a little shy when first meeting people due to being socially awkward

Habits/Mannerisms: Can bounce his legs if he gets nervous

Likes/Dislikes: Honesty most of all anyone who fancies a chat, dislikes anyone who is rude and standoffish

Racial Traits: Usual human stuff

Strengths and Weaknesses:

Physical Strengths and Weaknesses: Is quite skinny so is quite nimble but does not have a lot of muscle strength

Mental Strengths and Weaknesses: Does not like to give up, always finds the best in people, but can be known to have bouts of nervousness if gets stuck in a bad situation.

Emotional Strengths and Weaknesses: Tries to find goodness in people and empathic, can be naive at times due to his young age and inexperience

Looks:
Picture:


Eye Color: Blue

Hair/Fur:Blonde

Skin Color: Fair

Clothing: Pilots flightsuit, some casual wear

Personal History:

Immediate Family: Mother and father both on Commenor

Spouse/Children: None

Biography: Born to a middle class family on Commenor young Artemis always dreamed of travelling the stars. He wanted to see the galaxy and perhaps travel it to see the spectacle that was the cosmos. He had very few friends at school due to his shy nature and being socially awkward. But he always fancied being a pilot and yearned to one day escape Commenor. His parents wished him to stay behind, for fear that he could easily hurt himself if he headed out into the wilder world.

His father taught him how to fly and he found he had a talent for flying the family starship, practicing maneuvers and sometimes moves that were considered risky. He also enjoyed racing speeders with his friends on nights when he sometimes should be studying.

Over time he became less socially awkward but watched as the galaxy fell under the iron fist of the Empire. And he wanted to do something about it. Watching on the HoloNet he despaired at seeing worlds and peoples being subjugated by the Empire including his home planet. And so to the despair of his parents, he decided to join the Rebel Alliance, feeling they would hopefully win the war against the tyrants.

Earning the nickname “Artie” Artemis chose the Y Wing for his craft of choice for its strength in both speed and firepower. Despite his inexperience, Artemis took to piloting the workhorse of the Alliance and began to hone his skills as a starfighter pilot, using moves that were considered risky but effective and gaining experience as he went. His was still shy and socially awkward around his squadron mates but was known for being easy going once you got to know him. However he was known for being rather quiet. However his inexperience in war cost him during one battle. Trying to protect a transport he decided to try a risky move that ended up with his Y Wing being captured by the Empire. He was transferred to the POW came at SonTay hoping that one day he would be able to escape and rejoin the Alliance.

His time there was filled with torture and nightmares, but he still dreamed of escaping. Whilst there more prisoners arrived from a squadron called Black Sheep. And with their help and thanks to timely intervention by said squadrons mates he managed to escape but was wounded in the process.

But his nervousness thanks to his experiences at Son Tay have made him more of a liability than an asset. So now he's looking for a new home, a place where he can maybe do some good and get back in the flying saddle again.

Miscellaneous:
Starship Qualifications: Y Wing

Droid: Currently none

Weapons: None

Pets: No

*****​

IC: Artemis "Artie" Deco
Location: Intrepid, waiting to get back in the saddle…

He'd made it, finally.

After his ordeal at the SonTay prison camp and getting wounded in the process he had finally completed his rehabilitation program, debreifs and various other bits and pieces in order to be cleared for active duty.

The nightmares had never stopped though, there were still nights where he would wake up reliving that hell hole and getting hurt whilst escaping. And maybe he would never fly a Y wing again.

Of course the reason why he had ended up in that camp was getting captured in the first place after performing a risky move. And he was lucky to get out and considered fighting fit.

But Artie as he was known as knew this would probably be his final chance. Screw this up and he would end up back on Commenor with no kills on the board and his head down in disgrace.

He had received his assignment: Black Sheep squadron aboard the Intrepid. He had arrived whilst some things were going on so there was probably not a chance as yet for introductions or maybe re-introductions for those who had seen him at the camp.

Black Seventeen under Charlie flight. And thankfully back in a Y wing, no droid as yet but he was sure to greet the little guy soon. He felt nervous about flying again and going into battle but he would have to overcome his nerves in order to help his new squad mates out.

For now, time to go and get settled in his cabin and rest up.

TAG: @Vehn

 

​

GM Update Part Four:

​

The Brig
Intrepid

Captain Adama Husk entered the brig which was under the watchful gaze of a quartet of Marines. The aging captain of the Intrepid already had enough on his plate. He’d become, in a way, the de facto leader of the Black Sheep while Commander Firmus Khairn recovered his mind and soul. Fortunately, the commander’s mental health was improving daily and had even asked about rotating back into active flight duty. Still, there were hurdles to overcome and his reintroduction into the Sheep roster wouldn’t be rushed. Not until Khairn had passed all the requisite tests. Until then, Husk figured, the Sheep were his to do with what he pleased.

Husk folded his arms behind his back as he ordered the individual cell doors for Zara Yaren and Traer Lin to be opened. The pair were separated by a bulkhead and couldn’t see one another though from their perspective they could see him. Husk was simmering with borderline anger. What these two had done recently was beyond him. Absolutely beyond.

“Move Zara in with Traer,” Husk ordered as a pair of Marines did just that, “keep your weapons on both of them. Leave the door open.”

The Marines complied.

“To say I’m disappointed with the two of you is an understatement,” Husk said, “striking a superior officer, shooting a sidearm at a fellow crew member and severely injuring them, creating an unsafe and dangerous situation for your entire squadron let alone the rest of the ship.”

Husk paused as he stared evenly at the two of them.

“I should have you two brought before the firing squad,” Husk growled, “ and executed. No trial. No tribunal.”

He gauged their reaction before continuing.

“Fortunately for you I’m feeling merciful today,” Husk replied answering his own statement, "in part because you're damn fine pilots. Some of the best we have in this squadron."

Husk reached for a nearby Marine’s utility belt and procured a sharp vibroknife. He threw the knife into the cell where it landed between the two of them.

“It seems you two have a knack for violence. Seems you both have the urge to kill. You can do me a favor and kill one another right here, right now,” Husk stated, “with that very knife. Do everyone a universe of good. Because it seems like killing is all we’ve got right now.”

Husk turned to leave and paused at the door leaving the brig.

“Should you choose to commit yourselves to another path, one of helping rather than hurting, the Marines will let you by. I might even let you fly again. It all depends on the choice that is before you. The choice you make right now. This offer is only made once and upon one condition: this never happens again,” Husk warned.

Husk left the brig and as the doors drew to a close he hoped that Zara and Traer would have a good, long, hard look at themselves in the proverbial mirror.

Tag: @Rebecca_Daniels; @Sinrebirth, et al...

 

IC: Zero Maderas
The Parasite Revelation
"Frak! Everything's being slowly burnt up, let's hope this little bugger has a weak flame or we're toast..."
Zero had delved into the X-Wings computer systems like a Ubuugan flesh-borer; every page and mainframe for every ship function was being crisped, corroding to the point of one stray ion shot could fry the systems for good. Despite the rather shocking electronic dive, the slicer did discover a faint trail left over, a pathway. Somehow in the red haze, there was an orange pixel trail that inflamed deep in the virus inferno, normally viruses this well-crafted would not have a crack in their build. Keeping note of the thin, jagged orange line as he plowed past glitching screen pages, Zero pursued the fault as he did to many targets back in the day. The guy who bred this virus obviously missed a small detail, infections like this normally don't have a vapor trail leftover.
Several more drilling past life-support pages and inner workings that controlled the targeting computer, the slicer gaped at the sight, little pixel trail led him to the proverbial wasp-worm nest. "The Force Wept...."
Shrilly electric screeching pierced his lobes as he reached the core of the small computer, the life and soul of the X-Wings device, inside it was an evergrowing ball of virus. Numbers and letters used to describe the current state of the vehicle were now indecipherable mush, and rising scales used for fuel intake tallies starting to discolor from their regular blue hue. Zero made a silent prayer for the eventual healing of this, plus the Intrepid if he can reach a cure for this. "Ooookay, calm yourself Zero, you have this in the bag" The slicer breathed deeply, pressing a small code into his pad, before opening two small blue nodes onto the crackling core. "Just keep cool or else this little test risks us losing life support on this floating fortress."
Both of the blue nodes were each a special encryption, made back in his younger years cracking into old bulk freighters, the type of cruisers which in old age would accumulate a dozen digital diseases. Yet, the slicer hadn't used them since age 17 and only kept them for memories sake. Should I use the 77.8 node first or the 88.1 node, these blue boys haven't seen action and the crew will kill me if this fails, another test would help but should I do it though?
"Which one should be the test one first?..."
TAG: EVERYONE (And that little dog too!)

 

IC: Baniss Vermillion
Intrepid - Black Sheep nerve center (Whatever that is…)

Baniss coughed, "We should separate what we know factually as opposed to speculation. We know that the Intrepid is being tracked, that the squadron is the same TIE Defender squadron each time, and that many of our starfighters are currently down due to what is probably sabotage."

He paused a minute to see if he was missing something, probably so but that might be in the files somewhere, "I currently have some people working on the tracking, though since we're in this debris field, we can't directly examine the comm array that we traced the signal to. That said, the goal is to either stop the signal, or use it to spring our own trap."

Baniss looked at everyone, "Do we even know for a fact that it's only one individual doing this?"

TAG: @Vehn , @Mistress_Renata, @Adalia-Durron

 

IC: Zara Yaren
In the brig, round two

“To say I’m disappointed with the two of you...” Zara closed her eyes as he talked, leaning against the wall for support while her head swam. New room, same deal: time for the hammer to fall. “... shooting a sidearm at a fellow crew member and severely injuring them...”

So he wasn't dead. That would probably make Kayn happy, at least, give whatever defense he was preparing a leg to stand on. Probably should make her feel better too, something about not killing an ally or whatever. Did it really matter at this point, though?

The threats of execution seemed a little extreme, for Traer at least. She'd seen the punch and it was a good one, maybe even deserved; she didn't pretend to understand what was going on with that flight. If the rebellion executed people for punching an annoying superior in the face they'd have lost the fight years ago.

Zara opened her eyes at the sound of metal on metal, Husk's words echoing in her head the way the vibroknife bounced against the floor. She was no good with knives, but she could probably get to it, get to Husk at least before the marines standing with him took her down. Easy, quick, faster than whatever he had planned. But she let the thought pass without moving, staring down at the knife's point.

“It seems you two have a knack for violence. Seems you both have the urge to kill. You can do me a favor and kill one another right here, right now, with that very knife. Do everyone a universe of good. Because it seems like killing is all we’ve got right now.”

Oh, if that vibroknife were a blaster she'd shut his pontificating rear end up right then and there. The rebellion was only violence; that's how they survived, by clawing and tearing at the Empire no matter the cost. If Husk didn't know that he wasn't fit to lead them. Not when he let spies, traitors, enemies walk free on his ship.

“Should you choose to commit yourselves to another path, one of helping rather than hurting, the Marines will let you by. I might even let you fly again. It all depends on the choice that is before you. The choice you make right now. This offer is only made once and upon one condition: this never happens again.”

Once the doors closed she slid down the wall to sit on the floor, knees up to her chest and aching wrist tucked under her other arm. She could walk out of here and play pretend, say all the right "yessirs" in the right places to get her right where she needed to be. But she wasn't a liar.

Zara wasn't going to make a promise she couldn't keep.

But she also wasn't a fighter. Maybe she didn't care who lived or died if it meant she took Sifer's head off, but this wouldn't accomplish anything, wouldn't get her any closer to her target - and Traer would probably win if she tried.

Did he know? Zara wondered, letting unfocused eyes drift off the vibroknife to Traer. She'd left them talking, at Lou's wedding. Had anything come of that, or had she been imagining things? Too caught up in her own head to notice anyone else, again. Maybe, though. Maybe she'd tell him. That'd make things easy, one way or another.

TAG: @Sinrebirth @Vehn

 

OOC: This troublemaking wouldn't be possible without the wonderful @Rebecca_Daniels
IC: Baniss Vermillion, Torren Aves
Office near the simulators

Baniss was going over data he had managed to dig from the TIE Defender, he was integrating the data with the current model in the simulators. He had other problems, his communications team was working on figuring out what was being sent, whether there was a way to change it, and where it was done from inside the ship. They already found the modifications to the array, but the debris field couldn't allow for the removal of the mod. That and he was supposed to meet someone but didn't know who it was.

It had taken longer than anticipated to track down Agent Vermillion, between making statements on the incident in the hangar and getting settled into assigned quarters by logistics. A few helpful crew members had directed Torren to an office near the simulators, apparently the agent's favourite stomping grounds.

He knocked on the door and entered, drawing a quick salute towards the unassuming human within, presumably Vermillion. Formally he didn't have a rank within the rebellion– not yet in any case– but it seemed appropriate if he was going to report to the man.

"Torren Aves, sir, reporting for assignment.”

Baniss looked up once the man spoke, his mind buried in his work, “Go ahead and sit. You must be the person Intelligence told me about.” He brought up the name and started it through his program but he didn’t look at it.

“You don’t need to salute, as rank doesn’t matter to us. I’ve dressed as a general and I’ve dressed as a private in various roles. What we do in those roles matters more.” He indicated his computer, “I don’t trust the ship’s computer, and considering that the Intrepid is being tracked confirms at least some of my suspicions, but to be honest I don’t trust a computer for this kind of work unless I know where it came from.” He looked at the man, “We can go through your record, or you can tell me about yourself. At least what’s relevant to this assignment.” Baniss considered this a bit of a test because when agents were teamed with each other, they needed to trust each other implicitly.

"Old habits," Torren admitted as he took a seat. 'Tell me about yourself' was always the most dangerous question, and the most awkward. Especially here. "I'm not really sure what my assignment is supposed to be, all Intelligence told me was to report to you and help you in your assignment. As for me, well..." Here was the fun part. "I'm former Imperial Intelligence, but with the emphasis on 'former' please. Here to help however I can.”

Baniss nodded to himself at the mention of being a former Imperial. As horrible as it was, Alderaan's demise became a recruiting boon for the Rebellion. He wouldn't hold that against him, partially because actions mattered more, but mostly he didn't have the luxury of being choosy over Intelligence assets. Besides if he was really in an important position with the Empire, he would still be in debriefing with Cracken himself.

"I don't know if you've heard, but there are several problems onboard that require different specialties from communications to slicing to analysis to counterintelligence. What specialties do you tend to concentrate on whether now or on previous assignments?"

"I was a direct operative for a time, but I've spent the last six years riding a desk. Communications analysis, primarily: tracing signal origins and paths, decoding encryptions, tracking unusual flight records, that sort of thing." Torren shrugged. "Useful stuff for the rebellion when I could pass it along but my access has obviously been cut off."

Baniss switched to recent events involving the Intrepid, "As you can see we are being tracked, and we think we have identified the array that the signal is piggybacking the signal, but we don't know much more. If you can find out more about it, especially if it means that we can lead them into a trap of our making, that would be amazing."

Torren frowned. "Well, this was originally an Imperial ship. I'd assume the systems were scrubbed before being converted but it's possible something was left behind, or..." He trailed off. "Can you show me which array? I might be able to recognise, well, something. I knew some of the people involved in covert surveillance, I might recognise their signatures if we're lucky."

Baniss brought out a laptop-sized datapad and brought up the holo of the array, and then the previous signal detected by the communications bridge crew on another screen. "Work your magic, though from now on, avoid the ship's computers for work like this."

He leaned closer to the image of the array. Something about it seemed familiar but Torren couldn't place why. Not yet, anyway. "I'll see what I can do, sir." He winced. "Uh, agent."

"There was another matter, before I go. I just wanted to loop you in." Torren hesitated. Vermillion surely had his file, probably knew all of this already, but with everything that had happened... "One of the Sheep pilots attacked me and another crew member, and well, Zara has good reason to want me dead. I don't think she'll give up so easily so, you know, keep an eye out for my body in any garbage chutes." He gave a wry smile. "I'll try to forward you information as I get it, just in case."

Just because Baniss had the file didn't mean that he had all the information he needed. "I will need a report about it for your perspective, and I fully intend on asking Zara for one as well."

He looked Torren directly in the eyes, "I want to make this work. If I need to do something to appease her, she seems to like causing chaos, I may have to offer her opportunities to do so. In the end, if we try everything and it still doesn't work, one of you will have to transfer at least temporarily."

Baniss didn't know who that would be, but it would be whoever the ship could get by without the most in his mind.

"I don't think you're going to appease her unless you give her my head on a platter." Torren appreciated that someone had his back, at least. "As long as I can keep my distance I think I'll be fine, I can take care of myself. Just thought you should know."

"I'll forward you the report I submitted to Captain Husk about the incident." Torren paused. "Unless you have any immediate questions?"

"No more questions for now, though I suspect that I will have some in the future."

"My comments regarding Zara, are more that if it's entirely to redirect her energies somewhere else, that's what I would do. All that means is that I need to find someone that she wants to kill more than you."

"Have to start by convincing her I'm on her side now." Torren shook his head, and stood. "I'll get right to work on that signal."

Baniss pushed the laptop towards Torren, “Take it, it’s yours now.”

TAG: @Vehn

 

OOC: Combo with Addie & Mira... Part 1

IC: Kayn, Amber, & Ethan
Irregular Flight

Kayn had won a small victory in his ongoing battle with Zara's A-wing. His personal datapad plugged into her nav computer, and his neural link connected to the datapad, so now he could do hyperjump calculations with something close to his accustomed ease and accuracy. That was something their ad hoc flight could use to advantage.

As the four snubfighters arrived at their last plotted mid-point before jumping into the battle at Iona system, he pushed the button for his comms transmitter. "Sheep Flight, this is Lead. I'm sending you an update for the final jump into Iona. We're going to come out of hyperspace as close as we can to the system primary. If we keep comms silent, sensors passive only, no jammers, and shields down, the radiation from the star and the interference from their own weapons and shields should mask our arrival from the Imps. We sneak up on them and salvo our torpedoes into their unshielded sides before they know we exist. Everybody understand?"


Amber listened and narrowed her eyes, she didn't like the idea of going in with no shields but he was right, this passive approach might be perfect and kept them hidden to the very last moment. "Copy Lead" She responded, not wanting to be the weak link in this group. "You heard him Squirt, let's play hide and seek." She prepared for the final jump, wondering if she was able to do what she'd done before. Her abilities had strengthened and she believed she'd be able to assist the torpedoes.


Ethan let out a sigh, "so another sneak attack huh?" He wondered if this time, for once their plan would actually work, and, even more importantly if they would run once more into a certain elite Imperial Tie Fighter Squadron. "Might be for the better if we save one or two torpedoes, just in case something 'unforeseen' happens, just so we don`t end up with no reserves..." He mused, more to himself than anyone else.

"Surprise is one of the recognized and accepted principles of military tactics, you know that. And it's our only chance to do any good here, so let's make it a big surprise. After that, we'll have to improvise. Ideally, A-wings try to keep the TIEs off you, X-wings use your firepower to hurt the heavies. Try to cripple their engines so our corvettes can outrun them and escape." Kayn turned to look at his new wingmate. "What about you, Mermaid?"

"Copy all, boss, we swim quiet with no bubbles, then we spear the bladderfish and ride the maelstrom until we can get clear. Just like old times in the Jasmin Sea." The Quarren looked across at Kayn and her facial tentacles curled upward in what passed for her smile.

"Everybody remember, no comms, no jamming, no shields, no targeting sensors. If Skywalker could do it, so can we. Ready?"

Amber scowled, 'no targeting', she knew what he meant, especially when he added the last bit. "You want Skywalker level, I need to see them so I can try to do that again." She was stronger now, so many now knew what she could do and confidence was the key. Ethan had told her that and taught her to control it better. "Veteran, I'll take your port wing when we come out, leave to me after you fire as close to the target as you can, I'll follow suit and see if I can be the targeting system" Her heart was pounding, pressure to get this right strong, but this was her chance to show them she wasn't a liability, she was an asset.

"Sounds like a plan," Ethan replied to Amber, remembering her 'special abilities' it was certainly for the best to trust her with this. "Deactivating targeting systems now then." Going in with all systems down, including shields was a tactic that the ORSF would have never approved of, as for them unit preservation was the highest priority. Each soldier was a high investment, given long training and top equipment, something they would never gamble away like the rebellion seemed to do. But then again, with their squadron, was it really a gamble? Or a reliance on pilots who had proven to be exceptional time and time again?

Kayn paused, listening to the X-wing pilots. He remembered that Amber had fired the long-range shots that had somehow crippled the Star Destroyer Bith Marquis months ago. Did she think she could do that again? Could she be trusted to lead that kind of attack? Well, hells, she has to trust me and my leadership, and General Dodonna always said trust has to go both ways. Decision made, he pressed the transmit button. "Vixen, they loaded down our A-wings with torpedoes too, and I'm eager to unload them. Tell us where you want them to go. You have the lead for the initial attack run."

They'd not jumped yet, she needed to suggest something. "Torps are no good if the shields are up, Lead, you got what it takes, can you take out the shield generator before, like we jump staggered? We arrive a minute after you to give you the chance to do that?" She hoped he understood what she was meaning.

Kayn grimaced, remembering his first time leading an attack. He had been so eager to prove himself, right up until the actual moment arrived, when he was nearly overwhelmed with questions and doubts. Was Amber feeling that now? He started to speak, remembered that he needed to push the transmit button, and started again. "Vixen, I doubt I could hit the broad side of a bantha in this ship, I don't know how Zara does it. And I haven't fired a torpedo since before Hoth. Don't worry about their shields, they'll be focused toward the corvettes, and we'll sneak up on the opposite side and hit them where they're unshielded." He spoke with confidence, hoping she would soak it up. "You lead us all in together, we'll fire on your hand signal. Give us three fingers, two fingers, one, then punch for firing." He bit his tongue before he could give her any more advice, recognizing that he was micro-managing. General Dodonna had taught that micro-management was bad leadership, and those who were micro-managed didn't become good leaders. Better to let Amber do this her way.


His words did not sound like the Kayn she knew, did he really gauge his abilities by not being able to function without Zara? That was interesting at the very least. "Copy Lead." She said, choosing not to argue. It was time Amber pulled her poo doo in and started to not only follow orders but show the team she could be trusted with her abilities. Despite the fact they often put others off, sometimes scaring them. "Ready to jump on your mark."

Mermaid spoke up again. "Vixen, I heard about what you did to that Destroyer, it sounds amazing, I can't wait to see you do it again!" she bubbled enthusiastically.

"All right, cut the chatter. Line abreast formation, Mermaid on my left, Vixen on my right, Vet on Vixen's right and stay a little high so you can see me. We'll jump on my hand signal. Everyone double check jammers off, sensors passive, comms silent, and shields down. Vixen has the lead when we arrive. Don't get too comfy, it's a short jump from here." He raised a hand, managing not to wobble too badly as he flew with just one hand on the yoke, and gave the countdown and signal to jump.


TO BE CONTINUED...
Stay tuned, same Sheep Time, same Sheep Channel

TAG: @Adalia-Durron @Mira Grau and all our regular viewers.

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Last Shots and Hallelujah
"Okay implementing encryption node 77.8 now," Zero gritted his teeth as he pulled up his digital keyboard on screen. "Entering injection code 251977.BB36, and we...are...go!"
CLICK!
For a second the blue node enlarged into a blue square, interjecting into the now reddish-orange virus that was corroding the system and started to digitally spark against the pixelated red wall. Only for the shrill electronic wail to pierce the hangar air, popping the air in Zero's ears as did the node, his datapad vibrated from the digital backlash. 77.8 was absorbed and destroyed by the virus wall as it electronically dissipated into a glitched mess on screen, the slicer saw his little blue tool disappear onscreen, then a small alert wail came from his pad. The virus was slowly encroaching past his satellite dishes defenses, he noticed a slight red blip appear on his smaller screen with much horror as any soldier. "By the force, No! No! You're not getting into my stuff without a frakking fight you little barve-pimple!" Zero said in a anxious tone, he flicked on all of his internal defenses inside the pad, anti-firewalls and other digital walls of his own. It wasn't much, but he needed to stall for the last trick, the last trick he had on hand for something of this magnitude.
But will it succeed, he already made a fool of himself earlier in the bar.
Would this flashy thing redeem himself? How would the superiors feel about him doing this?
Captain Husk placed this job on him, his commander on Baker Flight depended on him in the team. All of the others didn't know his name, heck, not many cared to even ask. Yet, there was him; the old man who recruited him over the near edge of Nar Shaddaa's lower bridges, the guy who told him he had a purpose in life. Zero remembered the man's words of encouragement, it helped keep him steadied while first joining the Rebellion, outside his many, many writeups of insubordination and looting. I don't care if this flashy move gets me or everyone else killed, these guys need my help in freeing this galaxy and flashy guys like me have our own powers to help! Zero then nodded as he halted the activation of his other defenses, pressed the button that shut them all off, the slicer needed the full opening for clearing the viral parasite.
He took one glance at the remaining blue node and upward towards the hangar roof as if he awaiting someone to talk down. "Luma, Old Man, I hope you all are watching back down on me for this thing will probably save us...or doom us in the long run. If you are up in those Cantonica spa's in the sky, keep a seat waiting for ol'Zero..."
The slicer then opened up the other unscathed blue node as the online virus made his pad and the X-Wing computer screech, a monstrous wail of a horrid digital beast. Just remember, they're counting on you to rescue their ships and the Intrepid, don't be fearful; be flashy this one last time! Zero then took a deep breath before opening his crashing digital keyboard, his voice started to mutter the code sequence.
"Code Encryption Node 88.1 is being launched," The slicer wiped sweat off his brow as his datapad started to shiver rapidly. "Injection Code 200319996.BBR18399, here...we...go!"
CLICK!
Zero stared once more and braced his ears for another explosive shriek, the destruction of his pad's walls and the ships computer in one lone struggle; his hopes dashed to the wind as the fiery virus ate into his own hacking device as the X-Wing became a waste.
However, something completely different happened, in fact his datapad halted in its quaking as he opened his fearful eyes for total failure.
Total Failure was on the virus creator's part, the young slicer gaped in surprise at his blue node walling over the red and erasing the harsh, pitching throes of the virus. Zero didn't pass go as he then shouted at the highest pitch of the accomplishment, he'd discovered the weakness and found the right weapon to combat this viral infection. For a solid minute, the youth laughed and giggled like a madman until another thought struck his head like a slug round. I have to save the ships and our ship. Unplugging everything as the digital screen on the X-Wing was being cleansed of the virus by the shared code encryption; Zero hopped off of the ship with a staggering thud, before rushing with every last bit of strained energy in his bandy legs.
He needed to access the Intrepids internals ASAP!
For all was going to be out the airlock if he didn't reach the inner-sanctum of the ship....
TAG: @Sarge , @Sinrebirth , @Mistress_Renata , @Mitth_Fisto , @Rebecca_Daniels , @Adalia-Durron , @TheAdmiral , and @Vehn (Does anyone know where the ship's nerve center and kitchens are? I need to reheat my blue gin and cookies right now.)

 

IC: Zero Maderas
Second to Last, A Virus Slowly Faces Death

Zero felt his lungs thump back and forth in his chest as he finally reached the ships heart, the engine room where the fuel lines and other particular systems on the ship all reconvened, twin electronic locks closed the sliding door that led to the heart. To frak with this, I need to save this ship before this virus kills us and the missions The slicer pulled out a small purple picking device, a scramble-key, a hackers tool used for bypassing lock systems that would take a while to decode on regular pads. Slamming the device into the twin locks socket, the youth pressed a series of buttons as the key’s screen flickered a shade of green.

Letting go of the now activated key, it took only seconds for several whirs and gyros to spin internally until the doors shuddered in response.

It only took 10 seconds for the door’s locks to giveaway for the pilot's entrance.

It took one for the doors to swivel open a cacophony of digital howls, much to Zero’s pained eardrums. Though he did feel the system's pain, the virus had started to burn past all the collected terminals like a Ubuugan borer hive in summer.

Putting away his key into his toolkit, the slicer went to the nearest computer terminal, a single one in the tiny sanctum that managed the Intrepid's internal mainframes. Carefully injecting his datapads connectors into the sockets of the terminal, the slicer did the same setup as prior on the X-Wing, albeit with more confidence than he did before. Using the still-attached satellite tool on his datapad, the slicer took a deep breath; this was the final blow before the missions end. I pray for this to be the end before I go back to the ships, this virus should give way if this works like on the X-Wing Zero then began punching numbers into his pad as he bored into the Intrepids various mainframes and systems; plowing safely past fighting firewalls that were doing their best to push back the flames. “Life Support, nope, Security FIles, nada, where’s the core?” Zero muttered as he swam the sea of red, his teeth gritted in seriousness.

“Aha! There you are my pret-aw frak….”

Much to his consternation, he found the same weakness as before….but now it was slowly encompassing the safeguard nodes used for anti-virus control, this meant that one mistake of flub could land him in the cold winds of space. He could make the shot and it had a 1/100 chance of ignoring the anti-virus nodes but still, there was the potential for grave failure, Maderas dreaded the latter. “If this won’t kill me, then Maxine and the others have every right to choke me in zero-grav if this fails” Zero then prepared his cure, shutting off his satellite drill like before as the room's terminals raised their screeching pitches. “Encryption Node 88.1 being injected now, code 200319996.BBR18399 is going in…NOW!”

The code was launched inside as did the same blue node as before, smack dab in the middle of the red virus that had surpassed the anti-virus node's power, Zero crossed his fingers in waiting for the same reaction as before. Blue clashed against red as before, albeit with a struggle, his node was putting up a valiant fight as the slicer header the screeching slowly to a fault, along with the sound of other systems trailing across the Intrepids body making noises as well. Heck, he bet that others heard his work as well given that all systems were interconnected together.

For a split second, Zero had all but almost lost his confident criminal demeanor, as the blue node looked like its struggle was for not.

Then the room’s lights, computers included, all shut to darkness.

“HOLY FRA-” Zero’s curse was cut short as the terminals all flickered back to life, what was once a screaming horde of wounded systems were now azure walls healing the screens. The terminal he was working on was now walled up in his cure, Maderas exhaled in happiness at the sight of the core being doused from the virus.

Pulling back with his satellite tool and cautiously looking over each system that he carefully bored through, all were healing up with a familiar blue screen as the red traces were dissipating at a rather quicker rate than previous. Better tell the Captain about this! Hope he has an open comm-unit in the nerve center Zero nodded in finality at his thorough work and unplugged his things as the final red viral signs died in silence. Flicking a number on his comm unit, he spoke into the small device and walked out with his tools in hand.

“Zero Maderas, I am reporting that the virus has been rooted and cured; however, the creator of it let it spread towards Intrepids vitals. I had to unfortunately compromise my initial objective to prevent the virus from killing out internal life support and maintenance systems; many apologies for the brief shutdown scare earlier. I’m now making my way to wipe the virus thoroughly from the other starfighter squadrons,” The slicer said, he picked up his pace back to the hangar where the other fighters and ships were held. “In two hours, our birds will be flying safely, over and out.”

Clicking off the comms-unit, the slicer pushed his wiry frame into overdrive. They needed ships for aiding in wiping out oncoming enemies, along with saving some freighter he heard back in the debriefing. Meanstreak, have no fear, the cavalry will be coming very shortly.

TAG: @adaml83 , @TheAdmiral , @Sarge , @Mistress_Renata , @Vehn , @Mitth_Fisto , @Rebecca_Daniels , @Adalia-Durron , @Mira Grau , and everyone else who felt the blackout.

 

IC: 21-B33R
Watering Hole, Intrepid

Things had settled down now that the Intrepid had been in the boneyard for a while. That was the case in the Watering Hole as well. 2-1B33R had survived the initial wave of enthusiasm for his wares. His patrons now came in ones and twos, a manageable stream, especially if any of them had things on their mind. The droid was relatively sure that the Intrepid lacked a ship’s counselor, which was unsurprising. Mental health took a back seat to keeping limbs attached. Tending to the cares and worries of the crew often fell to 2-1B33R. It was a good thing it still had most of its psychology practice files intact. (Emphasis on most.)

In between visitors, 2-1B33R had begun getting the bar up to snuff. Sadly, there were no FX-7 droids around to do the cleaning work (it was the only thing one could entrust to a model so limited in ability or faculties). There were also no mouse droids who could be outfitted with sponges to scrub the floors. Frankly, the Intrepid was woefully understaffed in these areas. They didn’t really think that someone of 2-1B33R’s skills would be the one to do the cleaning around here, did they?

But, like most martyrs, 2-1B33R knew that if it didn’t do the work, then it wasn’t going to get done. The rest of the crew might not think that a clean floor was what was going to bring down the Empire, but 2-1B33R knew that smaller things than this had rippled into bigger things. After all, didn’t everyone know the story about the TIE Fighter pilot that crashed into Darth Vader’s TIE Advanced on the Death Star trench run? It was all because the starfighter hadn’t received the proper servicing the night before. The steering column hadn’t been properly oiled, so when the pilot had tried to make a minor correction, nothing happened. His overenthusiastic jerk in response was what took him into Vader’s craft.

(And to anyone who mentioned that 2-1B33R couldn’t possibly know that was true since that fighter and its pilot were in a trillion atoms somewhere near Yavin IV, 2-1B33R would reply, “No one’s presented compelling evidence to the contrary.”)

So it was that someone of supreme importance to the Rebellion had been relegated to mopping the floors of the Watering Hole. An indignity, to be sure, but otherwise the floors would get sticky and 2-1B33R just couldn’t have that.

In between the daily mundane tasks, the droid had begun to chip away at the tasks it had stored in its processors for later. The first was reviewing the music databanks to make appropriate additions and deletions. Unfortunately, there was no access jack that would allow 2-1B33R to do the edits in bulk. It had to operate the control panel with its servoclamps, song by song. It selected the next one in the list.

​

2-1B33R deleted that one forthwith. Clearly that was intended to be played at a volume deleterious to most sentient beings’ eardrums. “And I don’t need the bottles bouncing off the shelves,” it muttered. Next.

​

Now this was a song the droid could support. An anthem of rebellion if ever there was one.

And then the music warped as the lights went out. 2-1B33R’s photorecptors were now the only source of illumination in the bar.

“How many times do I need to tell engineering that there are critical systems in here?” 2-1B33R groused. Why the backup life support had to be kept on all the time was beyond him. It was only the backup system, after all. And if the parade of rebels into the bar since his arrival had proved anything, it was that there was plenty of hot air on this vessel they could draw on in the event of an emergency.

The lights flickered back up, and with it the music. The droid took the track back ten seconds and was relieved to find that there was no lasting harm done to the file. It would have been tiresome to have to source another version.

As the track kept playing, 2-1B33R noticed there were some glasses that needed cleaning. Yes, this was the right accompaniment for that kind of work. Because if there was one thing the droid wasn’t going to take, it was a bar in anything less than subpar shape.

TAG: @Sgt.Matt (obviously the jukebox was the main target of the virus) @Vehn

 

OOC: A brilliant combo with @Vehn

IC: Artemis "Artie" Deco & Harley Quin
Location: Intrepid, putting on the training wheels



Flight Officer Harley Quin was one of the few whose ship hadn't been affected by the virus. That was because, being her usual mischievous self, she'd failed to properly network her B-Wing into the Intrepid's mainframe the last time she flew. She didn't like technology, really. It wasn't her thing. That didn't mean she was against using technology. She just didn't like all the interconnectedness that the CAG pushed day after day. The squad meetings. The team building. That wasn't her style. She was a solo girl. She liked it that way.

It came as a surprise, then, when the CAG had assigned Artemis "Artie" Deco to train with her in the one Y-Wing that also hadn't been networked into the mainframe. Somehow the two of them had gotten lucky. What was unlucky, however, was that the B-Wing and the Y-Wing weren't really comparable platforms. Sure, they could deliver a payload on target and be done with the matter but in every other regard they were essentially two very mismatched craft. That was another thing, though, that Harley intended to rectify soon with the CAG or the powers that made up the roster. Why were B-Wings flying with Y-Wings? Why couldn't they be separated like they were before? Whose brilliant idea was that?

Harley shoved a wad of brightgum into her mouth and chewed voraciously. She giggled and leaned against her B-Wing as Artie approached with his flight helmet tucked under his arm. The kid was cute. Not her type but cute. She winked and puckered her red lips at him in a faux kiss.



"Hey there, sweetie, heard you need to brush off the rust. I hope you haven't forgotten how to handle your stick out there," Harley said in a slightly crazed, seductive manner, "target today is a derelict freighter. About two klicks out from the Intrepid. We're firing live ammunition so you better not blow your load all in one go. Who knows, might get a little exciting out there in the void."

Artie had headed off for a rest after he had arrived, but it wasn't long before he had been called to the hangar. A training sortie. Which he was glad about since he hadn't been able to fly again since his capture.

The sight of the woman in front of him, this must be Harley Quin and her B wing. Coloured hair, flirtatious looks, and from the get go she was flirting with him.

This was one thing he definitely had no experience for! And he felt red rush up into his cheeks, this was awkward. So was the fact that he could possibly show himself up here as the novice he was.

He spotted his Y wing. Plain like his old one. His heart fluttered with both excitement and nervousness. He just had to clear the rust and remember his training.

"It may hopefully get exciting, and I don't think I will er…blow my load as you put it" he went even redder.

"I just hope that I'm good enough to fly with you all at the end of it".

"We'll see," Harley said, "saddle up and let's ride."

Harley hopped into her B-Wing and began firing up the systems. She wasn't much for pre-flight checks or really even safety. All she cared about was that her craft had the proper payload, the engines worked, and the shields worked later. She was the squadron version of being borderline insane but as was so often said insanity was the mark of a genius. Something like that.

"Comm check, sweetie," Harley teased into her radio, "make sure your systems are good to go. Lead, rolling out."

Harley eased the throttle forward, double checked she was clear of the plane captains, and then raced out of the hangar. She didn't care that her thrust wash might damage the hangar deck or interrupt someone's work day. Others concerns be damned. She killed the throttle when she was a klick out from the Intrepid.

She continued to chew her gum smacking loudly into her comm unit. There was a reasoning behind that, as well.

Artie managed to scramble into his Y wing, wow she was quick!

No droid as yet but Artie didn't mind. This was all about him and his skills at the moment. The controls all looked familiar to him, boy was it good to be back on board.

He didn't get off to a good start, in his nervousness it took him three gos to get his fighter started up. Harley was already moving out as he started his safety checks.

Don't know if she did any, but she's fast and you are too slow…

"This is Art" using his callsign "Er sorry Black Seventeen, lifting to follow" Oh boy, here we go….

Settling one hand on the throttle and one on the stick he gently and slowly eased his way up with a little bit of shakiness. He then slowly eased his way out, letting the breath he was holding out as he made his way back into the coldness of space.

I did it! I'm up!

He increased his speed slowly upwards to catch up with the B wing. That chewing was getting on his nerves.

Harley craned her neck to spot the Y-Wing coming up on her 4 o'clock. She waggeld her wings to let Artie know that she saw him before pressing forward with the engines. She grinned as the derelict freighter came up in her sights. The ageing hulk was big, enormous really, and had clearly been used to haul some heavy freight during its long career. Now it was a mere shadow of its former self.

"Ok, Artie, let's see what you got," Harley snickered as she cut her throttle to idle. The B-Wing's formal momentum began to slow and finally stop.

"Hit the freighter right along the spine," Harley said, "don't rely on your targeting computer. Dumb fire your torpedoes."

Time for his first big test. Firing on an enormous target like this should be easy right?

Not so here. This was an accuracy test. Letting the computer do it was easy, you just point and click. But using your eyes to hit a spot with no computer meant that you had to rely on yourself and your reflexes.

Artie focused on the spine as instructed, he would be moving so it would be more tricky than sitting still.

He took a deep breath in, then out. You can do this…he armed his torpedoes and proceeded forwards at a faster speed, past the B wing.

He focused on where the spine was and fired away. The torpedoes shot out…both hit the spine dead on, debris exploding up into the air.

No time to cheer yet, there was still more to come. He arced back around to rejoin Harley.

"Alright alright alright!" Harley squealed as she surveyed the damage.

The freighter, already listing to port, was sending debris out in every direction from the torpedo impacts. Harley grinned as she thought of doing that against a live target. A shooting target. One with a bunch of little Imperials inside running for their proverbial lives.

"I'd like you to repeat your attack run this time hitting the craft either dead astern or dead forward. It's a smaller attack window and oftentimes that's the only chance you get before you have to bug out. Dumb fire again. No computer. Let's see what you can do," Harley instructed.

Artie smiled Harley's enthusiasm was infectious.

But now he had to do it again, this time with a smaller target area and again just using his eyesight.

Oh boy, this is going to be tough…

He settled himself in as he began his run, the back he could see but the front…the debris was making it difficult to see. He could see bits and pieces but he had to focus more to spot it.

Here goes….

He fired again. First torpedo hit the back end no problem but the second…missed!

Shavit!

He sighed at the miss and began to arc back around again.

"Happens to everyone....except me," Harley giggled as she increased thrust, "rejoin formation. How are you in fighter manoeuvres? The heavies, that's us, have gotten tangled with quite a few of the more advanced Imperial designs. Somehow, we've survived, but usually with a thick fighter escort. Today I'd like to see what you've got. You game?"

Artie brought himself back around and hung slightly behind her, not so far back to be too far back but not so close as to be caught in her wash.

"I've only been in one battle so far against normal TIE fighters, I haven't gone up against interceptors yet" what he didn't mention was his first battle had gone badly wrong.

"I'm probably still rusty on that like my shooting so let's give it a go".

Harley suddenly dropped back from being line abreast with Artie's Y-Wing. She set her lasers to the weakest setting and then spoke into her comm unit, "Then pretend I'm an Interceptor. A really ungainly one. We're starting fast, we're starting hard. You've got me on your high six at 1 klick out. When I say break you're going to pull up on your stick and barrel roll over me to drop back on my six. It's not always the best manoeuvre as you bleed speed but it can be an effective tactic against a faster enemy who is closing fast."

Harley gunned the throttle. Artie's Y-Wing flew directly in front of her getting closer and closer. Harley snapped off a few shots to rattle Artie and then yelled, "Break!"

This was the biggie. How to handle a battle type situation. He just had to try and focus again, follow Harley's instructions and perform his best. It was all he could do.

He dialled his lasers down, he didn't want to do much damage if he succeeded in hitting her B wing. He double clicked acknowledgement of the instructions.

Before he could even think anything else she started shooting at him and he nearly cried out in surprise. As she shouted to break he managed to get his wits back and perform the barrel roll to fall behind her.

He was breathing heavily though and sweating trying to push away the memories of being caught out last time.

"Not bad!" Harley exclaimed with a laugh, "little slow on the responses there but I think there's some promise there. Alright, we're gonna try a little different manoeuvre here, sweetie."

Harley paused as she double checked her instruments. The debris field was making things hard to perform even the most basic of flight manoeuvres.

"Form up next to me, line abreast," Harley instructed, "and when I say mark you're going to turn into me, I will turn into you, and together it will look kinda like a weave. This tactic normally works well if you have someone on your six and a wingman to help out. You know in my spare time I like to crochet. One of my fun little hobbies when I'm not blasting bucketheads."

Harley grimaced as she thought of this entire manoeuvre. She knew, visually, how it was supposed to look.



"Ready?" Harley called out as Artie sidled up next to her, "3....2...1..mark!"

Weaving. They taught this in basic training and he supposed that hopefully if he passed the tests and got a wingmate, he could do this in battle if he needed to.

Another few deep breaths to calm his nervousness and then when Harley announced "mark" he turned, keeping a close eye on his sensors so he didn't hit her.

Manoeuvring through the weave felt good and he was getting the hang of being in the hot seat again, the controls feeling familiar under his fingers. His confidence needed a bit of work but it was coming.

Completing the weave he made sure not to hit Harley on the way back.

"I don't see much rust on you," Harley said with a grin, "since we're out and about anything else you want to cover?"

"I think I might need to perhaps perform maybe a one on one duel with you, maybe just low powered weapons and no proper shots, I need to get used to dogfighting again".

And whether I'm good enough to actually fly out with the squadron….

Harley waggled her wings and peeled away. She gave a distance of about three klicks before turning to re-engage. The debris field was making it hard on her sensors to locate Artie's Y-Wing. It would all be visual from here on out.

"You better be ready, kiddo, because here I come," Harley grinned as she closed the distance and fired off a few quick shots in Artie's direction.

The debris was seriously hampering things but Artie knew he had to use his wits and senses to try and not get hit during this duel.

He needed to test his reflexes and what he had learnt.

As she came up behind him he started to juke and jink trying to dodge her shots and not get hit. This would be the same as if a TIE was pursuing him.

Alright Artie, concentrate…

Harley struggled to get hits on Artie as he juked and jinked. The thing about being on the tail of a Y-Wing was that the shots could go right through the gap between the engines. Which they did.

Harley linked her cannons and repeated her attack.

"Come on, come on," Harley grimaced as she continued to pursue.

Artie knew he was doing alright, now it was time for the hunted to become the hunter.

He immediately braked and flew upwards so hopefully she would pass underneath him and he could loop in behind her if it all went well.

Harley cursed as she zoomed right underneath Artie's Y-Wing. It was the oldest frakking trick in the book and she'd fallen for it because she didn't think the kid had the stones to pull off a manoeuvre. She shook her head.

Now she was being hunted.

Artie had felt nervous before pulling that particular move, but it had turned out well.

As he levelled out he sped his Y wing back up so he could catch up. Making sure his lasers were in low power mode still he began to fire to try and maybe tag Harley.

He had to be wary though, she could still pull off something.

Harley felt her B-Wing shudder as Artie's lasers splayed across her shields. They were solid hits. Good hits.

"Nicely done!" Harley squealed in delight.

Harley put some distance between them, the B-Wing being naturally faster than the Y-Wing, and when she felt like she'd surged on ahead she killed her throttle, increasing manoeuvrability, and did a 180 degree turn to face the opposite direction. To face Artie head on.

"Enjoy this one," Harley exclaimed as she opened up with everything she had in Artie's direction.

And she did pull off something. He was glad he had scored hits but the problem was she was giving him both barrels..

And even though a Y wing had good weapons, the B wing had more. He quickly got his shields up to double front to try and absorb the hits and began to juke and jink again. But some shots were hitting his shields.

He tried to weave away this time to try and get out of the line of fire before it overwhelmed his shields.

Harley cursed quietly as the merge completed. Artie weaved. She was already on the other side and diving back around for another pass. She kept visual contact as she barrel rolled her B-Wing into position.

"One more merge, Artie, then we're done," Harley called out.

She then accelerated to full speed as Artie came racing at her again.

Artie moved forwards again at speed, getting a few shots off with his laser cannons before switching his shields back to double front to try and absorb the barrage that might come.

He began to juke and jink again to try and mitigate the damage if any shots came.

Harley concentrated hard as they closed fast. She opened up with everything she had, noticing that Artie was making himself a hard target. She juked and jinked herself, struggling to match her shots with the closure rate, and cursed as Artie landed some good hits.

The merge passed and Harley checked her systems. Had it been a real fight her shields would've been nearly gone. That meant any sub systems had the potential to be pretty damaged. Pretty banged up.

Harley craned her neck and looked over her shoulder, "Nice pass. You landed some hits! You're doing pretty well....for a wishbone pilot. Form up on me and we'll land back on the Intrepid."

Artie smiled and double clicked in acknowledgement as he brought his Y wing around to form back up with the B wing. It looked like in his estimation he had done well apart from a couple of wobbles and a missed shot.

Easy Artie, bring her in. You took off, now you have to land…

"So what do you think, do I er…make the squadron? Do you think I'll be able to join you all?"

Harley gently eased her B-Wing into the hangar and found her landing spot without any difficulty. She powered down and as the cockpit raised she gave Artie a thumbs up.

"Yeah," Harley said, "you did great out there. With a few more flights you'll be as crazy as the rest of us!"

Artie brought his Y wing in slowly so he could find his spot (he guessed it was his now) and brought it in to land with a wobble. But he supposed as kept taking off and landing it would improve like the rest.

He pushed his cockpit canopy up and undid his restraints, watching the techs come in to start servicing his craft again. Pulling his helmet off he noticed the floppy part of his blonde hair was sticking to his head thanks to the sweat.

He gave her a thumbs up in return and thanks and climbed down the ladder. He moved over to the B wing.

"Thanks for the training session, it really helped. Will I be as crazy as you guys, er…not sure"

Harley laughed and winked, "Time will tell, sweetie, time will tell."

TAG: @Vehn