Second Training Mission:

The simulation pod was closing down around Lukas and HK once again, preparing them for another version of the Bomber run. HK began to hum a tune as the screen switched itself from black to a nice planetary scenery similar to that of Epsilon. Lukas chuckled at that a bit, but his eyes were focused on the controls of the Bombadier section. He didn't want to make the same mistake twice in both sessions, and if tat happened, then not only was he not worth anything in this mission, but he would call himself a total idiot.

Remember to open the hatch this time, genius.

The Bombers were flying in a double-V formation as they headed towards the proposed target, which was a spaceport that was harboring illegal weapons that were being stored and sold for pirates and Rebels. HK's voice came out of the blue, distracting Lukas's concentration slightly as he prepared for the run.

"Statement: We are nearing the spaceport, Fulfiller. All systems are ready for this run."

"Good, HK. Move us towards the left side of the spaceport. We're make our run there, and also, watch out for enemy fighters that might come from the port."

"Statement: Yes, sir."

The Bomber made its move to the spaceport's left side, where there was a couple of supply depots that housed the majority of the illegal weaponry. Knowing the importance of this mission, the weapons had to be destroyed at all costs. HK slowed the speed of the Bomber as it approached the target, Lukas feeling it to a certain extent as he kept his eye on the scanners. With his right hand, he flipped a switch to open the bomb hatch, readying himself to unleash some Hell upon the depots.

"Bombs away!"

Three single bombs were fired out of the hatch as the Bomber made it over the spaceport, each one connecting with its target with a huge explosion as its result. Lukas smiled as he watched the fiery clouds rise towards the sky.

"Statement: Good shooting, sir, but we can't cheer for long. Two rogue TIE's are heading our way from the spaceport. They had escaped the bombs' impact zone."

"Speed the engines up and try to evade them. I'll give them a good dose of missile fire."

"Query: Will this work?"

"It better, or we're toast."

HK increased the engine's power as the Bomber headed away from the port with two TIE Fighters right behind it, at least 2 klicks away. Lukas saw them on the scanners as he switched the weapons from Bombs to Missiles. Some beads of sweat fell from his brow as the TIE's were getting closer to them, estimating that they were now in firing range. Lukas wanted to keep the missiles at single-fire because he had a plan on how to take out these two menaces. The left one was the closest to them, and it started to fire its cannons at the Bomber, striking it with a couple of good shots. Lukas aimed his sights at the right TIE, waiting for the color of green to show up as the left TIE fired at them again, shaking the craft a bit with the impact of the lasers upon their shields.

"Statement: Shields are at 30%, Fulfiller."

"Keep her steady for a couple of seconds. I almost got it set."

Come on, green.

Finally, the color that Lukas wanted came, and the trigger was squeezed to unleash one missile at the right TIE's left wing. The missile struck the wing's upper portion, causing it to explode and propel the injured fighter towards the one that was attacking the Bomber. Both fighters collided with each other, exploding upon impact as Lukas took a deep breath in sweet relief. HK laughed a bit as he saw what happened from the view of the scanners, and actually, that laugh made Lukas chuckle himself.

What was a blue and white sky turned black again as the simulation ended, giving both Lukas and HK high marks for passing the course. Lukas undid the mesh harness and stepped out of the pod, heading out of the simulation room while seeing Ibram nearby as he nodded to both of them. Lukas knew what to do now with this Bomber that they would be flying in soon, and it was going to be fun with the destruction that they were going to cause.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minutes later:


Lunch was the furthest thing from Lukas's mind, but the nourishment did help his more-than-eager mind. After the second training session, he couldn't wait to get to Epsilon and get this mission started. So much life was counted on them to get the job done, and that's when the eagerness ended as a familiar dread washed over him. This would be his first mission as a Flight Leader, and even though he had HK by his side, he had never took the reigns as a full-fledge leader before. What if he lead him and HK to a fate that's similar to those who were in the Imperian? Of course, he didn't want that to happen, but he couldn't help but ask the ultimate question: What if?

Those thought vanished for a moment as Ibram's voice was heard throughout the mess hall. Minus Phin and Mira, the entire squad was there to hear his message about the mission at hand.

“Ok, everyone. As you know, we’re about 4 hours out from Epsilon. The Commodore still has no idea what we are expecting, so we have to be ready for everything. I know we don’t have to be at positions until T-minus 1 hour, but I’m… ‘suggesting’, as squadron commander, that you guys fit in some extra practice if you need it. Other then that, you are still officially on down time. Dismissed.”

Lukas nodded to that and stood up from his chair, feeling the nervousness hit the pit of his stomach as he walked towards the exit of the mess hall. However, something was of concern to him, and it came from Ibram. Normally, he would be a pillar of strength for Viper Squadron, but through the past couple of days, that pillar had showed some cracks. Lukas made his way towards him in hoped of lending some assistance.

“Everything ok, sir?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Daily grind, you know. Hey, it’ll be ok. Don’t you worry, Lukas.”

Lukas smiled at Ibram as he heard those words. Perhaps, both of them needed each other's advice in order to get through their personal crisises. He knows that Ibram means well, and that was all well and good as far as he was concerned.

“Thank you, sir.”

Lukas saluted Ibram and turned away to leave the mess hall, needing some alone time to gather his thoughts. If he was to be this leader, he had to suck up whatever bad feelings that was still inside of him and toss them into the wind. The squadron doesn't need those feelings out in the open because it would cloud his judgment otherwise. Definitely, this role would define his future, and he would have to prove that he was worthy of this promotion, especially if other pilots were to come to his Flight.

At that, Lukas headed to his quarters to spend the remaining time before the mission in peace and reflection. He would also pray to his parents to not only watch over him, but the rest of the sqaudron as well. To him, they were his family now.

It was midday in the Corellian Mountains, nothing but dirt and dry brush for kilometres and kilometres. It was hot, about 45-50 Celsius in the heat and with no breeze, damn, Acerbus was thirsty, but he couldn’t drink from his canteen just yet, he had to ration himself to make it last, and it wasn’t time yet. Everything looked bleached in the midday sun, bleached, and parched…

  Amano, his hunting partner and teacher was also lying on his stomach on the outcrop, with his binoculars perched on his thumbs and held straight by the tops of the eye-pieces resting against the tops of his eye-sockets, so that there was minimum shake, he spoke and said:

“There’s one; at 250 degrees West and 2,000 m away resting under some rocks on the mountainside. “

  As he said this he passed his binoculars over with his left hand, then resting on that arm while taking his DC-15x into his right hand to get the mark on the scope. While Acerbus took up the Binoculars to confirm the kill or correct the shot (which was rare with Amano), he could hear a datapad alarm, and it was the same sound as the one that Acerbus used! But, Amano didn’t have a datapad, and Acerbus didn’t have one on him, maybe Amano always had the datapad, and he’d forgotten until –

- Acerbus was shaken roughly by the shoulder -

“You gonna turn that damned alarm off now, Mr Corellian nerf-herder?”

  Acerbus heard raucous laughter at the joke, and instantly got his bearings; the VSD Imperator, his bunk, his datapad indeed, and in Hammer Squadron – nightmare. Maybe Acerbus had been spoiled at the Ivory Towers at the VENA, the peace, the studying, the respect from students and professors alike, the access to simulators now and again.

  Nightmare; a waking one, Acerbus wanted to be a pilot, had gone on about expressing himself as a pilot at the VENA, yet now he was going to have to pilot a giant beer-keg, which also turned like one, due to the extra length and despite the extra repulsorlift engines, dodging from side to side or up and down was not the same when getting into a turning fight, and the single Ion engine meant that she was not as powerful in acceleration as a full-on TIE was.

  Flat-out speed and evasive manoeuvres with the repulsorlifts if it got down to it, but some time on the sim would’ve been nice, rather than being on the Atrus thinking and simulating TIE Interceptors, then hasty assignment into Hammer Squadron and into the Imperator?

“Theirs was not to reason why, theirs was but to do or die”

  That poem that the Mercenaries used to say, but that was another time, and to think that from the ostensible idyll of the VENA to then being unceremoniously dumped into Hammer so that, even being in that Corellian hell seemed better now. Acerbus faced it that morning: he was hating life in Hammer, and he was really apprehensive about flying a Scimitar in completely un-briefed circumstances.

There was a lot of secrecy about this deployment, but on top of that Acerbus was not sure about his XO, he just said that the controls were just like on the TIE Interceptor, and to stop being such a girl and asking questions all the time “They didn’t like questions in Hammer” well, if Acerbus wanted that, he would’ve joined the VEA. Even with his own initiative; hardly anything was available through datapad, and the libraries were strictly off limits to non-staff (as in Command Staff), due to the fact that a mission was ongoing.

  The thing is that before and under the Hutts, Acerbus was often given craft to fly with no training, since he was expendable to them, so this kind of attitude gave Acerbus bad memories, but he tried to keep telling himself that this was not personal this time on the part of the VEN, more the ad hoc nature of the situation. He also took comfort from the fact that he’d had to fly completely unknown craft before, been shot at and lived, but he didn’t have some poor Bombardier’s life in his hands as well, and as he would with the Scimitar.

  It didn’t look good, and Acerbus wasn’t bedding into his new formation, but he didn’t want to raise this issue yet and look like a prima Donna.

  Speak (or think) of the Devil, since up came the XO;

“Hey, Aspergers, yeah you” he looked down at his datapad,

“Acer-bus, yeah, Senior Crewman Acerbus, what the Rancor’s cuss kind of name is that, anyway? You’re out, Acerbus; you’re going in with those fancy Viper boys from Phoenix Wing, just a temporary assignment mind, you’ll be back with us hopping and humping over the terrain again, so don’t get any big ideas”

“Hey, that’s fantastic news, cheers” Acerbus toed that fine line between insubordinance or the enthusiastic acceptance of a noob, people didn’t know him well enough in Hammer to tell the difference yet.

  “That’s right, Acer-bus they are a few people short and they need every swinging air tube they can get a hold of, and that’s you, lucky them, and with a silly name like that, you’ll fit right in, but you still belong to me, remember that, now get!”

  Acerbus got ready as slowly as he could, and “got” as nonchalantly as possible, reading off his datapad where his new SC’s office was on the Imperator from his reassignment orders, and getting there as quickly as he could, which compared to the gargantuan Atrus, was actually quite easy. Punching the intercom, Acerbus identified himself and gained access to the SC's office.

  Acerbus came in and did his best salute, glad to be out of Hammer, even if for a short while.

“At ease, Acerbus, no need for all that right now, we’re on a combat footing, sit down”

  Acerbus took the weight off and looked at his new SC, he was younger than Acerbus, like everyone else at the VEN, it seemed, but this guy didn’t look all smug and self confident, like some of the seniors did, the SC looked like an introspective sort of a man,, he didn't seem to have one of those fake "Up and at 'em" personas that some Officers and Non Coms had, and Acerbus related to that already.

  Not knowing him well enough yet, Acerbus fell back on his customary formality in these situations.

  “WOSC Tyrol, sir, reporting in as ordered, sir, and the orders said that I was to be 3-3, sir…”

  Ibram Tyrol scrunched up his eyebrows like he had a sudden migraine; he put his left hand over his eyes and his right hand up, palm out as if to say “enough”…

  “SCR Acerbus, please, shut the hell up, we don’t do 3-3’s here in Viper, we do one to 12, and anyway for this mission we’re in Scimitars and your collective call-sign is… Gyro-4… or something, look, save it for the final briefing, take notes then and ask after that, ok?”

  Acerbus visibly and internally relaxed, realising that there was no need for all that indeed at Viper, which was a relief.

  “Sorry sir, it’s gone.” Acerbus made a sweeping gesture with his right hand to illustrate the gone-ness and to try to relieve the tension that he’d created being all formal and (apparently) on the ball.

  “There’s one thing though, WO Tyrol.”

  Tyrol made the pained body-language again, “What’s that, Acerbus?”

  “I haven’t had any time in the simulators with Scimitars yet, sir.”

  WO Tyrol made an exasperated gesture with both hands, dropping them into his lap, “This is some kind of really unfunny joke, right SCR Acerbus? Tell me this is some sort of sick joke on your part, how did your XO or SC let this happen?”

  “Well sir, with my SC, I never had the privilege, and my XO seemed more interested with training up the more senior members, senior as in time served, you know how it is with the politics sometimes, sir”

  “Yeah,” Tyrol snapped back acidly, “Politics is what made him send you over to me with no sim time under your belt, either, to think I even bought into his con by saying ‘Acerbus, good, I was one of the people that marked his paper and it was a good one’”

  WO Tyrol slumped back in his seat and drank his caf some more, thinking about it.

  “I tell you what, Acerbus, I marked your stuff, and you went that extra parsec sometimes in your writing, at times you showed a real passion for it, let’s hope this holds true again this time…”

Acerbus cut in saying “Sir, I’ve had worse before but not when there was a Bombardier…”

“… and more than that lets hope so for Ryno’s sake.”

“..involved.” Acerbus finished, and there was an awkward silence.

Damn, what is it with me and these awkward silences all the time.

“Err, yeah, whatever, I’ve got other fish to fry too, Acerbus, get on down to the Hangar and introduce yourself to Ryno, you’re replacing the XO and his mentor, try to cheer him up” That sounded lame, and both of them knew it, “After that try to get some sim time, tell the engineers I ordered it.”

  Which sounded equally optimistic, but there was no point in saying anything, Acerbus did a more relaxed salute, Viper style, spun on his heel and sauntered out and down to the Hangars. Finding Viper, he spoke to a FL who had a Corellian accent, Fulfiller; they both appreciated that, the way that Corellians do, but silently, as Fulfiller pointed out Ryno to him, Acerbus went straight over to him purposefully, again only because he was in a strange situation rather than any real bravura.

“Are you Ryno?”

“Yeah, why, are you my pilot?”

“Yes I am, SCR Acerbus at your service”

Acerbus stuck his hand out to shake.

“Damn Acerbus, you’re barely out of the Academy, have you even been blooded yet?”

“Erm, not as such with the VENavy, Ryno, but…”

Ryno took Acerbus’s proffered hand distractedly, “Yeah, that’s great, that’s just typical, I go from training with my XO and being taught and now I’ve got to do the baby-sitting and bomb, fan-tastic.”

“Well, you know what else, SCR Ryno?” Acerbus did the double pump, to show that he meant the shake.

  Ryno nodded his head to say ‘go on’ “I haven’t done any time in the Sims with a Scimitar yet, they tell me the controls are just like a TIE’s ones”

  Ryno’s features darkened even more, he pulled his hand down mechanically, and said “That’s just great” almost inaudibly, but to his credit he refused to let the situation get to him any more than it was already.

  And so, to yet another awkward silence, Acerbus took his seat.

OOC:

1,873

VENA continuity edits made as requested.

Victory-class Star Destroyer Imperator
Briefing Room 05

“So you appreciate our concern here, Warrant Officer.”

Ibram, along with Commodore Skyes and several other Squadron and Fleet Commanders, were sat at the elongated briefing table whilst the Intelligence Officer concluded his briefing.

After having had to deal with the fact that Phineus may not get out of his unconscious state in time, he had Hammer Squadron provide him with another volunteer. Unfortunately, they were not as cooperative this time round, and so he had received a new recruit by the name of Acerbus.

Whilst his record seemed sound, the poor guy hadn’t had any Scimitar training, thus putting his new partner Ryno in an awkward predicament.

I’ll have to check up on those two once this is over and done with…

He leaned forward to address everyone.

“Yes Lieutenant, I’m well aware of how…convenient this all seems. But the fact of the matter is that my pilot has done nothing wrong. He’s a member of the Starfighter Corps, and nothing more.”

“How can you say that?” Asked Captain Devante, from the Judicator.

“This man is the CEO of Bacredi Corporations! And now there are whispers that they have been doing dealings with Rebels and Pirates. You still think he’s innocent?”

“I think, sir, that he is a CEO in abstentia. And I also think that, since he has joined us, he’s talked to his corporation one or two times.”

The VENI Lieutenant looked at his datapad.

“But did you know Warrant Officer, that at 23:00 hours last night, just after your squadron’s training mission, Petty Officer Bacredi tried to contact his personal flagship.”

He turned to address the rest of the table.

“This flagship is the Leviathan, which is part of a private fleet stationed at Epsilon that was supposed to assist the Vast Empire whenever a crisis occurred. What scattered reports we have received so far has lead us believe that the Leviathan fleet has breached that contract.”

Ibram remained silent.
Commodore Skyes spoke up, “What do you recommend lieutenant?”

The Lieutenant glanced at Ibram before addressing the Commodore.

“With all due respect sir, I think we need to take Petty Officer Bacredi into custody, further more-“

“No.”

Everyone turned to look at Ibram.

“Excuse me?” The lieutenant looked shocked.

“No, sir.” Ibram amended.

“Just who the hell do you think you are man!?” spat Devante. Ibram counted himself lucky that the Captain was only here virtually. He’d hate to have to whip the spittle off.

“With all due respect sir, we’re en route to a war zone, and this man hasn’t breached any military laws yet. Regulations state that at times of impending battle, civilian charges and investigations are to be postponed until afterwards. I’m also fed up of having my pilots replaced by guys who haven’t been properly trained.”

Devante made as if to rebuke, but Commodore Skyes stopped him.

“Leave him be. I don’t care for your tone Warrant Officer, but you’re right. This isn’t the time to be pointing fingers. Most likely some money-grabbing board-member has been doing things behind this man’s back. Either way, Bacredi won’t be of much use to us, so leave him be.”

Ibram nodded his appreciation. Sometimes he wondered how he got away with half the stuff he did.

“I think we’ve heard enough,” the Commodore continued. “No matter who is behind this, our first priority is to secure the planet. Thank you Lieutenant, Dismissed.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“…and in the financial news, several corporations from the Outer Rim have joined forces under a new conglomerate calling itself the Empyrean League. The League is rumoured to have links with every major alliance and faction in the known galaxy, and several of its core members are known ex-associates of the Tyber Zann criminal organisation. So far, this League has been very secretive of it’s business, but one source claims it has been doing a lot of business with the Bacredi Shipping Corporation, the founding member of the Trade Alliance. Run by Zhar Bacredi, the corporation is currently running out the Epsilon System…”
-    HoloNet News Update

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ibram walked slowly down the corridor towards the hangar. It was now just over an hour before they were due in the Epsilon system, and it was about time he made some pre-flight checks.

Entering the Hangar, he saw Zhar and Trask talking quietly over by their Scimitar, consulting a datapad. Ibram wandered whether or not to warn him about his company’s suspected involvement in the whole affair. He decided against it.

He’ll have enough on his hands as it is, no need in scaring the poor bloke…

The two NPC pilots were sorting out their own fighter in good order, as expected. Being from professional bomber squadrons, Ibram wouldn’t expect anything less. He made a mental note to talk to them when the time was appropriate.

Looking over to the other end of the Hangar, he saw Ryno and the new guy going over some basics regarding the Scimitar’s controls. He wasn’t happy about it, but Acerbus seemed competent enough.

Guess I’ll just have to have some faith.

Aleia and Akran were no-where to be seen, but he expected them to turn up soon enough. Walking up to his own bomber, he noticed that the hatch was open, and he could hear Mira already inside doing her checks. He paused, wondering whether or not he should join her inside. He was still ashamed of earlier.

I can’t believe I called her Marisa…I’m over her now…

He was still wrestling with his self esteem when Mira’s head popped out of the hatch. She spied him and grinned.

“You just going to stand there, or are you going to give me a hand?”

Ibram quickly snapped out of his inner turmoil, and started walking towards the ladder.

“Be right there.”

He scrambled up the ladder, along the hull, and dropped into the Scimitar’s control area. Mira was sitting in the pilot’s seat, carefully calibrating each control the settings that suited her best. One of the many reasons why she was flying and Ibram wasn’t.

He took his seat by the bombardier station, and spoke into the coms.

“Gyro 1 to control, we’re ready to begin pre-flight, over.”

“Control here, give us a few moments Lead, we’re just taking 6 through its run.”

Ibram sat back in his seat. Until the pre-flight had been completed, there wasn’t much Ibram could do with his station, so he had to sit there in silence. He looked over at Mira wondering what he should say to her. She beat him too it, however.

“Have you been avoiding me then?”

It was so casual Ibram almost didn’t catch it.

“What? No! No of course I wasn’t! I just had a meeting and then I had to get my gear-”

Mira turned round to face him and put a finger to his lips.

“I was joking you berk.”

“swwry,” Ibram mumbled through her finger.

Mira shook her head.

“Honestly, you men. Make one mistake and suddenly it’s like you’ve killed the emperor. I’m over it, honest.”

“You sure?”

“Positive. Now quit your self-loathing, I can hear it from here. I’ve got this calibration to complete.”

Ibram sat in silence as he watched Mira finish up her checks. She was so thorough and professional; it made Ibram wonder sometimes which Mira was the ‘real’ Mira. It seemed that the girl he glimpsed back on Abrea was showing up more and more these days. It made Ibram remember something.

“Why did you stay in that cell Mira? I know you; you would have gotten bored and left way before I got there.”

“I stayed there because you ordered me to,” she said without looking at him.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes it is.”

“You know what I mean.”

She stopped what she was doing.

“Ibram…I rendered our XO unconscious. Even I know that I crossed the line there. I like playing pranks, being smiley and happy, but I don’t like hurting people.”

She turned to look at him, and Ibram saw ‘her’ again, and finally he knew which Mira was the real Mira.

“Mira..”

“I knew I shouldn’t have done it, and I knew I needed to cool down. So I went, just like you ordered be too. Because you ordered me too.”

“Mira…”

“And Yes, I stayed, because I knew you would come visit me, because I was counting on it, hoping for it, and I just wanted you to get off your prude-horse and just”-

She was cut short as, for the second time that day; Ibram pulled her towards him and pressed his lips against hers. She gave a little squeal of surprise and drew back, a smirk on her face.

“What’s my name?”

“Shut up.”

“Prude.”

And with that, they just lost themselves with each other. Kissing passionately for minutes on end, only briefly pulling out for air, before diving right back in. Mira’s hands squeezed his back as Ibram sat down on his command chair, pulling Mira onto his lap.

The coms crackled.

“Warrant Officer Tyrol, we’re ready for your pre-flight.”

Ibram wasn’t listening.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Operator Malovik stared out the viewport at Gyro 1 as he spoke into his headset.

“Warrant Officer Tyorl? Are you there?”

I could have sworn I saw him go in…

“Gyro 1, do you read, over?”

He checked the signal, and his equipment, all seemed fine. He tried again.

“Warrant Officer Tyrol-”

The Squadron Commanders voice came in over his headset. He sounded out of breath.

“Sorry Tyrol here. Go pre-flight the rest of the squadron.”

“But sir, we’ve got the computers set up-”

“I know. Sorry, we’re just finishing up some things here.”

Malovik thought he heard a woman giggle. He knew that Tyrol’s co-pilot was a woman.

“What kind of…things?”

“Last minute test of the fluid exchange system.”

Now Malovik defiantly heard a woman laughing.

“Sir I have to insist-”

“Frak it  man, give us five minutes!”

And with that, the comlink switched off. Malovik’s jaw dropped slightly as he looked over Tyrol’s Scimitar. The female pilot’s face appeared briefly. Looking over at Malovik, she winked before closing the hatch.

OOC:

Just a filler post, not story progression. You still have time to get some more C/D in. However i suggest you start moving on to preflight checks.

Lukas stared out of one of the port windows to see how close they were towards Epsilon, some long-standing eagerness coming ahead as his eyes were focused on the stars. How beautiful they were, and how many they were out there. He started to remember when he was a kid with his father, taking time out of his busy schedule to spend some time with him. It is a clear night to see the stars that were above the Corellian sky, trying to count every single one of them for fun. Those were some good times.

Suddenly, his focus was shaken a bit with the appearance of an officer that was heading towards him. The man's look was a bit serious, so Lukas took that into consideration. Whatever this was, it would be good or bad, and he hoped that it was good.

"Petty Officer LeNighter, you are requested to receive a parcel from the hanger bay. Your identification is needed for approval."

"Parcel? I didn't have anything shipped here by any means."

"Nonetheless, sir, you are needed in the hanger bay."

Parcel? What the hell was going on here? Lukas gave a nod to the officer as he turned to head to the hanger, stratching his head as he wondered what he was going to get. Was this a gift, or a cruel joke from his fellow pilots? If if was, he would laugh with them, of course. With the mission being so close to happening, a little laughter would go towards boosting their morale.

The hanger entrance slid open to Lukas and the officer as they entered inside, heading towards the eastern side of the hanger. There, a pilot and a crewman were standing in front of a Transport, the crewman holding a small box that looked like a shoebox. Lukas approached the men and nodded to both of them as he eyed the box.

"Gentlemen. What have I received?"

"You made a request through the VE weapons division some months ago about a custom-made electrostaff?"

"Yes, but that was back during my days of Basic Training. I had completely forgotten about it."

"Well, it took them that long to create such a weapon. All I need is your voice identification into this device."

The crewman placed an identity recorder in front of Lukas, seeing that this was a legimate deal. Lukas grabbed the recorder and spoke into it as he made his 'signature'.

"Petty Officer 1st Class Lukas LeNighter has received said package with no harm or incident done."

"Thank you, sir. Enjoy."

The exchange was made as Lukas was given the box while handing the crewman the recorder with his voice within its circuits. Lukas turned and walked away as the escorting officer saluted the two travelers and followed Lukas on his way. Once out of the hanger, Lukas and the officer became separated as Lukas headed to his quarters, not wanting to open his package before anyone else. He was actually to see this weapon created personally for him because this weapon was madeby his own design. He remembered that he had sent the design to the Weapons Division just before his graduation, but he had heard about it since then.

Once inside his quarters, Lukas carefully opened the box as to not ignite the electric points of his weapon. The box revealed a compacted version of the electrostaff with two buttons in the middle of the rod. Lukas picked up the weapon and pressed the first button, igniting the electric points to their full fury. At that, the second button was pressed by Lukas, resulting in the staff extending itself to its normal length. He chuckled a bit as he knew that one of his own designs was made to a actual weapon.

That smile on his face would last all night.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bomber Pre-Check:


Knowing that there was a little time left before the big launch, Lukas returned to the hanger bay as he headed towards his Bomber for a check-up. The new electrostaff was now hanging on his belt within a new holder that he had made up for it, now knowing that he can carry it with him at all times.

Upon reaching the Bomber, Lukas could see HK already inside, doing his own checking of the Bomber's specs. Shaking his head a bit with a confident smile, Lukas approached the droid.

"How's everything looking in there, HK?"

"Statement: All systems seem to be in working order. However, there might be a problem with the bomb hatch. It seems to have a slight malfunction."

"Climb into the bombadier's chair real quick. I'll get to the underside and see what's going on. Have the com on in case I need you."

Lukas got on his knees and crawled under the Bomber to see what was wrong with the hatch. He looked at it from the outside, and there was nothing wrong with it. That's strange. Lukas went to his com and contacted HK from there.

"HK, try to open the hatch from your end."

"Statement: Affirmative, sir."

The droid pressed the button that woul normally open the hatch, and the hatch did as it was told. However, the opening revealled a slimy substance that spilled all over Lukas's face. Lukas stayed at that spot as he could hear HK's laughter from outside the Bomber. He spit out whatever was in his mouth and climbed from under the Bomber, revealling his new look to HK. The droid's laughter went louder than normal, as well as some of the hanger's crew as they got a glimpse of what happened to Lukas. Shrugging his shoulders a bit, Lukas started to smile a bit as it was now official. HK was now a full member of Viper Squadron.

One of the crewmen handed Lukas a clean rag to wipe the slime from his face and hair. He knew that he would get the droid back somday, and when that day came, it would be such sweet vengeance.

The Imperial Navy, every pilot knew as soon as they signed on the dotted line that everytime they started up the engine to their ship there was a chance they'd die, or never come back from the usual risky mission.  Most pilots after a while knew to take their chances when they could, after all when death was always right around the corner, such simple pleasures were hard to come by.

"Quit staring at me, you make my head all fuddled and it will make flying dangerous," Mira complained as she glanced at Ibram.  She had been in the middle of pulling her boot back on when she had looked up to see Ibram staring at her.

"Since when did the brave and bold Mira's head get fuddled off of someone looking at her?" Ibram asked smirking.

"Since your baby blues always do that to me, pretty boy," Mira chuckled tying her laces before Ibram pulled her to her feet, kissing her again.

"Pretty boy, you haven't called me that in a while," he murmured in her ear.

"Because if I call you sweet names then you get spoiled," Mira murmured back running her nose along Ibram's neck causing him to shiver.

"I wanna be spoiled," Ibram whispered looking Mira in the eyes again.

“Warrant Officer Tyrol, are you ready for your pre-flight now?” a voice over the com interupted them. 

Ibram let out a long sigh, letting go of Mira, "Yes all functions are a go."

"Petty Officer, ready for pre-flight?"

'You bet yah, lets go blow some shit up," Mira chuckled jumping into her pilot seat and starting up the engines.

And here I am again, Phineus mused as his eyes began to blink open. Once I make progress, I always get taken out of the game.

Phineus’ eyes fully opened to a bright, white light over head. His skull thumped with pain- near the right temple- and the back of his eyes seemed to thud along with his heartbeat. He lifted his left hand and placed it a bit too harshly on his head. He had forgotten about his metallic appendage and the impact certainly reminded him. Phin let out a long grunt as he managed to lean upright, and take in the room he was in. The room, maybe twice as big as his quarters, was painted a matte grey with a black door. He sat atop a repulsor-lift gurney, which was just one of about nine or so scattered about the room. The over-head glow-rods were illuminating an eye throbbing white that were bright enough to ensure lighting throughout every inch of the room, assuring no shadows would be found. A medical droid floated to Phin’s right, and it was clear to Phineus that he was no longer in a garbage chute, but in the med-bay.

“Wha…” Phineus attempted. “How…”

“Chief Petty Officer Phineus L. Gage,” the med-droid began in a tone much more human than Phin would have expected. “You have suffered a concussion and have been unconscious for quite some time now. Your neural scans have showed no further damage, though I do suggest you stay on the ship during the upcoming mission.”

Phineus blinked a few more times, allowing his head some long seconds to calm itself and slow its throbbing. He took in the information from the droid, and as his usual stubborn self, denied.

“No, I just signed back on to active duty, and this will be my first mission in a long while,” Phineus claimed. “I have to…”

“Gage,” Phineus was cut-off by the swish of the med-bay’s door lifting open, and the voice of Ibram Tyrol.

“Ibram, good to see a friendly face,” Phineus admitted.

“Good to see you’re alive. Sorry you won’t be joining us for this mission, better luck next time,” Ibram said with a slight tone of regret that his second in command wasn’t cleared to fly.

“Sir, I feel perfectly fine,” Phineus lied as the back of his eyes still throbbed- feeling as though someone was hitting the back of his brain several times over with a sledge hammer. “I’m quite sure I can still carry a blaster and don stormtrooper armor.”

Ibram narrowed his brow in utmost confusion, “Uh, Phin, you do know you’re in the Navy… not the Army.”

Phineus tilted his head a bit, then remembered the truth, “In that case, I’m sure I can fly our TIE fighters.”

“Yeah,” Ibram began, “we’re definitely not flying those this time around, as you once knew. The med-droid, and now myself, won’t give you clearance to fly until you’re back to your normal self. Until then, mate.”

Ibram turned on his heel and exited the room, leaving Phineus alone again with the med-droid. According to protocol, or to what Phineus could remember at the moment, he would be forced to remain in bed for at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours.
Unfortunately, Phineus needed be free now, to prepare himself for the upcoming mission. A mission that Phineus knew he would fly in, no one could stop him from doing so.

But how the krif do I get out of here?

And then it clicked, the light bulb went off in his mind. All droids had computers, all computers had programming, and all programming could be changed- altered. Phineus came to his feet, staggering and a bit unbalanced, and turned to the med-droid.

“Sir, please lay back down, you need your rest,” the droid spoke.
Phineus turned toward the droid and began his approach. The droid rose its black, mock eye brows.

“Sir? Sir. Sir!”

-Office of Ibram Tyrol-

“Phineus?” Asked Ibram as Phin waltzed into the room with a slightly dazed look spread across his face.

Phineus was dressed in his pilot’s jumpsuit, all black with the green Viper emblem stitched where the left pocket would be. “Sir,” Phin half-bowed. “Good news, the med-droid cleared me for immediate duty.”

Ibram narrowed his brow as he thumbed through his datapad, “I haven’t received a message indicating such.”

“Huh?” Phineus asked. “Oh, yeah. No, he told me to tell you…”

“Phin,” Ibram said, deepening his tone. “Are you lying?”

Phineus nodded, “Course not.”

Ibram cocked his head in confusion, “You uh… you just nodded your head.”

Phineus darted his eyes from left to right, “…and?”

“You said you weren’t nodding, yet you were nodding.”

Phineus cleared his throat as he smoothed some wrinkles from his jumpsuit, “Hey man, I’ve got the green light. In all due respect, Sir, I’m flying in this one. There’s nothing that can stop me.”

Ibram nodded, though he sounded a little more than annoyed, “Fine. But you’re not going to fly with any one of our men. Getting yourself killed is one thing, but I will not have you endanger the lives of my men.”

“Our men,” Phineus corrected.

Ibram quickly stood to his feet, walked around his desk, and stood opposite of Phin, “I’m in charge of these pilots, not you.

Look, Gage, you’re one hell of a pilot. But in the condition you’re in, I’m not going to allow you to fly with any one of our guys. I will not put them at risk all because you still feel as though you have something to prove, and that’s final.”

The last sentence hit Phineus hard, and he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. His eyes drifted to the floor, and then he continued, “Something to prove?”

“Yes,” Ibram returned. “When you first signed up, you had this drive in you; you wanted so badly to prove that you were one of the best young pilots the Navy had to offer. That got you in a lot of trouble, and you know that. Now, after disappearing to no one knows where, you’ve certainly matured quite a bit. You’re a natural leader, it’s in your blood, but you’re still trying to convince everyone that you belong here. When, honestly, if you just knew when to fight and when not to fight, you’d have the time to realize we already believe you do.”

“Are you saying you don’t want me to fly with the rest of the squadron?” Phineus inquired.

“I’m saying you must do what you feel is right; but at the moment your head is in a state of healing- you can’t fly like that. But I’ll let you; we’ll need all the help we can get.”

“I’m fine, you don’t have to worry about me,” Phineus declared.
“It’s not you I’m worried about,” rebutted Ibram.

Over the intercom, a female voice came across, “Viper Squadron Commanding Officer Tyrol, please prepare your squadron for preflight checks and take off. We have successfully exited hyperspace in the Epsilon system and have joined with the fleet.”

Ibram nodded to himself, and then returned his gaze to Phineus, “That’s us then, let’s head out.”

Phineus turned as he and Ibram walked out of the office, “So who will I be flying with?”

Ibram shrugged, “Well, we’ll just have to wait and see who wants to fly with someone who’s three minutes out of a coma.”

-Later-

The Naval pilots of Viper squadron all gathered together in the hangar bay, assembled next to their Schimeter bombers, and began making preflight analyses. Phineus examined his own bomber; it’s long, bulky frame was as ugly a spacecraft as possible, but so lethal it was. The overhead lighting from the twenty glow rods illuminated a deep blue, giving the bomber a nice and sleek touch to partially balance some of the ugliness. Ibram waltzed up next to him and begin a in a quiet tone that was near a loud whisper.

“Here’s the situation; an enemy fleet is orbiting Epsilon, lucky they’ve yet to discover us here by the moon. We still have men under siege planet-side, in the main military base. Unfortunately, we haven’t been given the green light yet, and time’s running short.”

Ibram inspired a low chuckle from Phin, who sarcastically said, “And the bad news?”

“I don’t know,” Ibram sheepishly admitted. “Something doesn’t seem right with all this. What do you think?” Ibram asked not just to hear Phin’s opinion, but to mentally evaluate him. To evaluate his mind set as the XO, and to evaluate how his mind was working since his coma.

Phineus nodded, “Yeah, I don’t like it either. I mean, shouldn’t we be out there by now? We can’t just let our guys down planet-side get beat up and not do anything about it.”

Ibram nodded as the hangar bay’s chief entered into the holding pad, “Let’s hear this.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” the Chief began, “I understand you are all eager to get into battle, but sorry guys, we’re not doing it today.”

The cacophony of groans from every single pilot filled the hangar bay, echoing off its pale-white walls. Helmets were banged against Schimeters, some were thrown to the floor. Not a single pilot was happy to hear the news.

“Well,” Ibram began, “there’s that. Why don’t you get in some practice time while we wait, get your head in the game.”

Phineus nodded reluctantly, “Sounds good.”

“Alright men,” Ibram announced to the pilots in the bay, “and women… Go get some rest and some time in the training sims, get to know your fellow pilots a bit more, maybe fetch for something to eat. Just please, whatever you do, don’t shove our XO in the garbage chute. He may deserve it, but save it for another time.”

With that note, the pilots all departed from the hangar bay. Some hung a quick left to head for the mess hall, some turned right to get in some simulation time. Even though they all wanted to get in the air and finally start their mission, they all seemed to cool down with small bits of laughter and conversation as the friends all went to further prepare for a mission that appeared to never start.


_____________________________

OOC:

Mmk, pretty pitiful post, but I was short on time this week and needed to get this out. Refer to the Viper Topic for instructions.

“…Officer Gage!”

The near shout came from Commodore Skyes, one of many sitting at an elongated, mahogany table within the ship’s conference room. The commanders and officers sat according to their rank, with the higher ups sitting closest to the head of the table, scaling downward from their. Phineus was third from last near the rectangular butt-end of the table. At the moment, his index and middle fingers were seemingly permanently rubbing the upper bridge of his nose- trying unsuccessfully to dull the throbbing migraine his concussion and now presented him with.

“I… I’m sorry, what?” Phineus asked, stumbling through his pulsating headache.

The pain- moving upward from behind his eyes, his temples, all the way to the back of his head- even spread throughout his body to his shoulders. It felt as though someone was hitting his brain with a sledge hammer to the beat of his heart. The pangs seemingly vibrated throughout his entire body now, and concentration was growing extremely difficult. Luckily, the over-head glow rods were set to ‘dim,’ so that the correct mood- whatever that was- could be maintained and controlled for this meeting; one which may not go too well.

If Ibram wasn’t sitting a few men away from Phineus, and on the opposite side of the deep red table, he would have given Phin’s ribcage a stern strike with his elbow. He knew it was a mistake letting Phineus sit in on this meeting, let a lone tagging along for the actual mission- whenever that began- but he just couldn’t help it. Now, Ibram certainly wasn’t affected by Phin’s charming looks, but he was affected by Phin’s piloting. Though reckless and dangerous- for himself and others- he always tried to help his squad before helping his self. And for this upcoming mission, Ibram would need a pilot like that.

“I said,” Skyes began, “how are you doing medically?”

Phineus nodded, “Nearly perfect, sir. Just a small headache is all. I will be fine to carry out normal operations.”

Skyes spared a nod in reply, and immediately shifted his questioning glance over to Ibram, “Tyrol? What do you think?”

He’s not ready; he would have liked to say. But Phineus was a good motivator, and his squadron needed that right now. So he lied, “Near perfect, he’s ready.”

“Ok then,” Skyes resumed the business at hand, “onto the uprising. We’re stalling your mission, Tyrol, until further notice.”

Ibram looked unhappy; or, in better words, his absolute annoyance and disease emanated from out his pours and was palpable throughout the entire over-sized, blue-shaded conference room. “I’m sorry?”

Devante interjected, “You heard the man, Tyrol,” he said with a lack of respect for Viper’s Squadron Commander. “We’re playing this one pretty close to the chest, no need for you or your men to know our reasons.”

“My men,” Ibram spat out with an added touch of importance, “want to know why they can’t get down there and protect our land-based troopers, and so do I.”

“We have our reasons, Mister Tyrol,” Devante fired back.

Phineus, battling through the pain, managed to craft a sentence, “No you don’t.”

“Excuse me, Executive Officer?” Devante asked bitterly.

“Well, this all seems a bit farfetched; and the fact that the squadron commander of the fighting flight isn’t being let in the circle of trust,” Phin paused, blinked a few times, then continued, “I get the feeling something else is being done here. How do you expect Commander Tyrol to run his operation when you’re scheming behind his back?”

“Scheming?” Devante scoffed, “And what exactly is your definition of scheming?”

Ibram cut in, mostly to save his XO from digging a hole for his self, “Look, what Petty Officer Gage is trying to say is that you can’t expect my squadron to properly operate when we’re not being informed on why we’ve been stalled from going into action.”

Skyes interjected, “This whole Bacredi deal…”

“No,” Phineus said calmly, “we already know of that problem. There’s something more at work here.”

Skyes nodded reluctantly, “And so there is. I’m afraid I must ask you, and the other XO’s to depart from this room; for the information about to be told is only for those whom must know.”

“We understand,” Phineus said, speaking for himself and all of the other lower-tier officers.

He stood, bowed, and departed to the hangar bay to alert the other pilots that they may be flying high after all.

-Later, hangar bay-

“Alright everyone,” Ibram said as he entered into the hangar bay; the cacophony of musical pilots loomed throughout. “I’ve got some good news,” the entire bay suddenly entered into a sudden state of silence as the pilots hoped the news they were about to hear was that of what they have been yearning for.

“We’ve officially been given,” Ibram continued, pausing for a bit of a dramatic effect, “the green light to start up our mission.”

Claps and cheers spilled across the sound waves within the hangar, as the noises bounced off of the inner walls, increasing their decibel levels.

Ibram nodded with a grin, “Congratulations Vipers, we’re airborne in fifteen.”

Chatter immediately broke out in hoo-rahs and “are you ready’s?” as the pilots scrambled for their craft. Phineus hopped inside his, joined by a bombardier from the Imperator’s own squadron, named Krys Pa’dilla. He was a ten-year man, originating from the planet of Aargau. Once he tightened his helmet atop his head, the comm chatter soon broke through.

“…about time they let us fly, it’s been far too long…”

“…just keep your eyes peeled, keep your focus on those scanners and we should be fine…”

“…dude, I’m serious, Mon Cal are delicious…”

Phineus and Krys strapped on their crash-webbing, and then proceeded to thumb switches and run standard diagnostics. Phineus was able- mostly, almost fully, due to his muscle memory- to find and recognize each switch and each control, and handled the systems checks properly. The ion engine of the Schimiter roared to life, and once again, Phineus felt at home. The bombers all rose a few meters from the ground, levitated for a minute, and then prepared to depart as the hangar bay shields dissipated, and the green glow rods lit up the bay they sat in.


__________________________________________

OOC:

Refer to the topic for instructions

Bacredi jumped into his fighter, flicking on all the ready switches and cross checking his controls faster than ever. The clock ticked: "Three minutes until fighter launch." Bacredi flipped up three switches and inverted the engine pipes. The fighter was set. After the meeting with Ibram, Phineus, and Lukas he was ready to destroy something. "One minute until fighter launch." The automated voice said as Bacredi's clock ticked, fighters were already zooming across the hanger.

"Ready Trask?" Bacredi asked as he flipped up the light switch and turned them off.

"Better than ever." Trask replied.

"Fighter Launch in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. All fighters are a go." Bacredi hit the thrusters and flew out of the hanger, going through the magnetic field and out into open space. Epsilon was there, alone as it always had been. The grassy surface had marks of its previous battles that were visible from space. Bacredi flew right next to Phineus, Viper's XO, they all headed for Epsilon's surface.

"Breaking atmosphere, Trask. I am locking all weapon controls." Bacredi said, typing on his terminal. Weapon Controls: Status/Set/Off/Slash/End//Command//Bash. Bacredi hit enter and they flew deeper into Epsilon. He broke from Viper's engagement and spoke: "Sending you data space to store possible targets."

Bacredi flew over the surface, hovering. The trees and grassy plains were the only things that stopped Bacredi from going lower, he didn't want any accidents on this mission. "This is Viper 5, prime spotting targets are on your screens." Bacredi checked his screen, "...5.1.234 ... 5.1.256 ... 5.1.298, all possible locations." Bacredi thought to himself as he swopped over 5.1.234 Target, it was a stone base.

"This is Viper 7 to Viper 1 and 5, we have a possible risk from the coordinates five one two thirty four. I repeat we have a possible risk from coordinates five one two thirty four." Bacredi said, flipping off his Com. He hovered lower this time as he flew back over, and his screens blinked and beeped. "This is Viper 8, pulling out we have a prime target here. They have weapons armed but not locked. Pulling out!"

Victory-class Star Destroyer Imperator
Medical Bay

“So you shoved him down the garbage shoot...again?”

For the second time in as many days, Ibram was standing over the unconscious form of his Executive officer. Phineus was lying on his back, re-breather mask firmly over his face, whilst a medical droid checked his vitals and made sure he wasn't in any immediate danger.

“Well...technically he shoved himself down the shoot.”

Mira was standing just beside him, an amused yet concerned look over his face.

“We were just walking along the corridor and we passed the chute and I made a joke about how I should just throw him in it again for good measure, and then he starts spouting all this jibberish about school and something about 'real life' and then threw himself down the shoot.”

Ibram looked over at Mira and raised an eyebrow, and then looked back at his XO and shook his head.

“That first trip must have done something to his brain. I think we'd better keep him here for monitoring.”

“Who's going to fly with Jacen? And who's going to be XO?”

Ibram started to walk out of the medical bay and back to his quarters as he pondered how things were going to work out.

“I'm sure we can borrow another one of the bomber pilots to fill in. Jacen can look after him self. As for XO...do you want to do it?”

Mira stopped and looked at him.

Ibram looked back at her with a serious look on his face...before cracking up into a laugh.

“I can't even keep a straight face! I'm joking, obviously.”

Mira frowned.

“Don't you think I can do it!?”

Ibram stopped laughing and looked at her.

“Hun, you could command the fleet if you put your mind to it, but I'm not going to be the one who unleashes such a force into the world. Fulfiller will step in as the next in line.”

Mira gave a small smile.

“Nice save...nearly.”

She punched him in the arm.

Ibram put his arm round Mira's waist as they continued their journey towards his quarters.

“I know... I'm good like that.”
“That's not the only thing you seem to be good at.”

“Oh?””

They stopped as they got to Ibram's Quarters. Mira stepped away from Ibram and walked into his room.

“You know what I'm talking about... pretty boy.”

She motioned to him with one finger.

Ibram obediently followed.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

To: Navy High Command
From: Commodore Skyes
Re: Situation Report – Epsilon System

Have hooked up with relief fleet orbiting the moon of Epsilon.

Enemy force is sizeable, but mainly consists of small support ships.

Intel suggests most of the key planet locations are under enemy control, may need reinforcements from the ASF.

Will try and re-take the spacesport in the mean time.

Skyes

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Alright everybody, listen up.”

It was the next day, and Ibram had gathered everyone in the hanger for a last minute briefing.

“Command just gave the go-ahead. We are taking the fight to the insurgents. Our goal is to retake the space sport, and help our on board marine and army compliments to secure the area. After that, we wait for the Army Support Fleet to arrive, and then re-take the planet.”

He motioned to a droid that he had brought from the command suite, and the little unit obligingly displayed a hologram of Epsilon and its moon, along with the positions of the two fleets.

“As you can see, we are currently on the near side of the moon in a kind of stand off with the enemy fleet. Now, local inter-system law enforcements have finally got a lock down on the surrounding area, so they won't be getting any more outside help. The enemy is bound to know this, so they are probably going to go out all guns blazing.”

Lukas raised his hand. “Sir, who are the enemy?”

“We don't actually know. We haven't been able to eavesdrop on any useful conversations, and none of the ships bear markings. Further more, their tech is from all over the place, ex-empire, rebel, pirate, commercial...you name it, they're using it. Our forces are more or less equal, but we have the upper hand as all of our weapons are consistent, and have more capital class vessels then they do.”

Ibram looked at each one of his pilots, making sure that his next point hit home.

“This isn't going to be a walk in the park however. Remember, we're flying the Scimitars now, and our job is going to one one of the toughest.”

The hologram changed to show a representation of the spaceport.

“We won't be in the first couple of waves. Instead, our job is to wait inside the hanger until the two fleets are well and truly engage, and then break through their battle line and down to the planet's surface. Once there, we will soften up the defences whilst our land units try and take back the spaceport.”

“Will we be by ourselves?”

“No, a few support squadrons will also break through with us, and will help keep any enemy fighters off our back.”

Ibram motioned to the droid to switch off the hologram, and then turned back to address the entire squadron.

“No heroics this time people, and I mean it. The fleet will take care of the enemy vessels, and the fighters will take care of enemy dogfighters. Our job is simply help the GroPo's in their work. If you think you're in danger, bail out and wait for pick up. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Then suit up, the fleet will advance in 2 hours. Let's get ready.”

OOC:

Ok guys, you may now start posting again. Refer to the Viper Topic for more detailed instructions.