“Leave? You’re sending us on leave?” Hunter asked incredulously.

Shazam sighed deeply, rubbing his temples, “For the fifth time, yes. Tuk’ata is being assigned shore leave. We felt it would be a great time for some bonding in the squadron, considering that it was just formed a short while ago, after . . .”

Shazam left off the ending of that sentence, after seeing the look on Hunter’s face. It wasn’t that Shazam was scared of Hunter, not by a long shot, but he knew where to draw the line. The memories of that catastrophe were still fresh, as were the wounds, both physical and other. Gritting his teeth, Hunter forced himself to talk.

“Are we going to be given free reign or what?” Hunter said.

“No, you’re all going to Jalor III in the Jalor System. Jalor III is a neutral, pacifist planet, so bring neither any gear that bears an Imperial insignia nor weapons. Tuk’ata will board the Acclamator Class Assault Ship Moonlight Shadow, which acts as the command center for Vast Empire units in the system and will take you there. Currently, the Moonlight Shadow is refueling and loading supplies. Be warned, it will leave immediately upon finishing. Though it has just started, it won’t take long so I suggest you tell the rest of Tuk’ata immediately.” Shazam replied, looking back down at his datapad when he finished, signaling the end of the conversation. Nodding, Hunter stood up and exited the office. Once outside, he stopped and pulled out his datapad. Entering the orders into a message, he sent it out to all of Tuk’ata squadron.

It was then that his thoughts wandered back to the conversation that took place just moments before. Nazgul had been great, even after Atrasin moved up to Wing Commander and Hunter took his place as Squadron Commander. Despite his distinct lack of experience, Hunter had handled himself well and only made a few notable mistakes. He grinned despite himself, and shook his head wryly at the thought. They were a tight group, closer than most squadrons. While there had been some new additions, the core of the squadron had been there for a while and knew each other nearly as well as they knew themselves. Even Hunter, who had joined the squadron not all that long ago, slipped into place in the squadron, like he had been there the whole time. As a result, they were one of the elite squadron, in one of the best Wings, Phoenix Wing. They were so good, that it was rare that they lost a member, and when they did, it was rarely to death. Unfortunately, that barrier to death shattered during the Lehon mission and Phoenix Wing was torn apart. The survivors, shuttled to a new Wing under new squadrons, found that they weren’t as good as they were before, as if some part of them had been ripped away during that mission.

Hunter sighed and stopped, burying his face in his hands. It wasn’t good to dwell on bad memories. He had already had enough nightmares recently that he was now running on nearly zero sleep. It was quite a miracle that he hadn’t already fallen asleep. Shaking his head, he realized that he had been dozing off. He resumed his pace again, though he hadn’t gotten too far when he stopped. There was a small crowd around one of the doorways that lead to the ‘freshers. Frowning, he walked over and made his way through the crowd. A few looked like they were going to argue when he politely moved past them, but stopped abruptly upon realizing he was military personnel.

Reaching the doorway, he met a tired looking human male exiting through the door.

“What happened here?” Hunter inquired.

The man hesitated for a moment before he noted Hunter’s uniform, and glanced back through the doorway, “Some poor bastard apparently had had enough and offed himself in one of the stalls. He was a pilot by the looks of it.”

Apparently, Hunter’s face gave away more than he thought because the man looked a bit worried after looking back at Hunter. Closing his eyes, he nodded and backed away. He had gotten a good ways away from the crowd when he stumbled slightly and fell against the wall. Sliding down it, he sat down on the ground and had to blink away tears quickly.

I need to talk with my guys and make sure they aren’t thinking of doing that. I may even need to examine my own self and make sure I don’t consider that an option. Maybe this leave is exactly what we need.

Composing himself, he stood back up and began the walk back to the Tuk’ata barracks, completely foregoing any convenient transportation. The lengthy walk would give him some much needed time to think.

OOC:

WC: 807

Abrae: Hotel Room #R-307 - 04:20 hours

Cayden woke up and noticed he was in his hotel room.  He sat up and looked out the window overlooking the city below.  Abrae looks rather beautiful today... but not as beautiful as someone I know... he thought, looking at a picture of Ashley.  He smiled, got out of bed, and walked over to the window to watch the glow of the sun preparing to rise, like he had done on Onderon.  This is nothing compared to Onderon... maybe we are going on a mission today and we get to watch a sunrise on a foreign planet.  It'd be my first alien sunrise... he thought as the glow grew in radiance over the mountains. 

He started pulling on his duty uniform as his datapad went off.  He grabbed it and read the message on the screen

Meet me in my room as soon as possible
-Ashley

Cayden looked at his clocked and smiled.  The one I love desires that I meet her in her room today... best not be late.. he thought, smiling

He finished pulling on his duty uniform and remembered something from the evening before...

Flashback: Abrae Inn Room #C-4 - The night before

Cayden was sitting on Ashley's bed, staring off into space while Ashley was reading her datapad.  She walked over to Cayden and sat down next to him.  "Cayden... I need to show you this," she said, showing Cayden her datapad.

He looked at it and saw a headline that caused him to rip the datapad out of Ashley's hands and scroll through the article.

Queen Assassinated!

After what seemed like 60 years of service, Queen Victoria Kira has been assassinated by what investigators assume to be a pair of New Republic spies.

This event has created unrest in the High Council as they now debate temporarily placing the Queen's daughter, Princess Talia Tavers, on the throne until a formal coronation ceremony can take place.  The Princess though, has other ideas.  She said to us, before retiring to the Palace, that "I'm not taking the throne, even temporarily... I've seen what kind of hell my mother went through, first-hand.  My husband would have been the perfect candidate for the job, but due to his untimely death a week ago, we'll now rely on the loyalty of our children to hold the throne until the war is finally over."

I asked her "Of which one of your children do you refer to, your Highness?"

"I refer to my daughter, Angie, because she is the eldest.  But, due to Onderonian law, she cannot be Queen while in military service, so the duties would fall to my eldest son, Cayden... if he was here, that is.  I know that, should he hear of this tragedy, he will return home to help us end this bloody war once and for all..." Talia said, starting to cry.

It seems as though this entire war-effort rests solely on the shoulders of Prince Cayden Tavers, who mysteriously left several months ago without leaving a single message.  Should word of this reach the ears of the Imperialists, well... I fear that Cayden's life will be in danger.

"And what of Cameron Tavers?" I asked Talia.

She wiped the tears from her face and said "Cameron will continue his studies at the Army Academy, then join the Onderonian Army as planned.  Should the need for someone on the throne be great, he will be expected to take on these duties.  But, until then, we'll place our faith in Cayden, hoping that he'll return to take the throne."

As stated earlier, without Cayden, this whole war-effort will collapse.  And, thanks to the intervention of the New Republic in the side of the Imperialists, we're even more hard-pressed as ever to try and hold what portions of the city we possess.

Cayden let the datapad fall out of his hands when he finished reading the article.  "Assassinated...?  Last hope for Onderon...?  This can't be..." he stammered out, trying not to cry.

Ashley wrapped an arm around him and held him close.  "I'm sorry, Cayden... but you know they're right.  They need you now more than ever... we need to go home..." she said, kissing the side of his head.

"I know I have to... but I have an obligation here, to the Vast Empire..." he said, looking up at her.  "I don't think I can do it..."

"What ever you choose to do, I'll always stand by your side... no matter what," she said, kissing him.

Abrae: Hotel Room #R-307 - 04:45 hours

Cayden looked back out the window, then looked down.  I know what I have to do...

He grabbed his blaster and secured it onto his belt, stuffed his datapad and comlink into his pocket, and went out the door.

Abrae Inn Room #C-4 - 05:17 hours

Cayden knocked on the door, and waited patiently until Ashley opened the door.

"Hey there... what brings you by?" she asked, smiling.

"I've decided to go back to Onderon... the war must end, and we're the only ones who can do it," he said, hugging her.  "You all packed up and ready to go?"

She nodded.  "Yes sir, just have a few more things to grab," she said, heading back into the room.

"Alright..." he said blankly, walking over to the window.

He stood there, hands behind his back, as she put the last of her things into her bag.  She then came over and put her arm around his waist.  He looked to her, smiled, then kissed her.  "Alright Ashley... there's some time before I have to head to the barracks to request leave... then we leave," he said, pulling her close.  "Let's make the most of it..."

Abrae Inn Lobby - 05:32 hours

Several soldiers, each carrying a blaster, entered the Inn and ran to the stairs.  No one stopped to question them, noticing the Imperial emblem on their shoulders.  They ran up the stairs until they reached the C Level.  Walking down the corridor, they looked for a specific room.

"Come on, men... we need to find room C-4 before Imperial troops arrive!" said one of the soldiers.

They started moving faster, then stopped outside room C-4.  Two of the men proceeded to cut open the door when the man who spoke earlier stopped them.

"We need to do this quietly... for all we know, she's asleep," he said, motioning to the security system.

One of the men said "Yes Captain!"  He pulled out a sonic screwdriver and deactivated the security system, then unlocked the door.  They slowly opened the door and started walking in when a voice spoke out to them.

"I suggest you identify yourselves before entering... especially when there is a blaster trained on you," Cayden said, crouched behind the bed.

"Well, your Highness, you should be familiar with who I am," the Captain said.  "I didn't get to introduce myself properly the other night.  I am Captain Oron Rezkul of the Free Onderonian Army."  He switched on the lights and saw Cayden's face.  "I see you finally believe what I said the other night, Prince of Onderon."

"You will pay dearly for what your rebellion has done to my family... I swear to Freedon Nadd that you will!" Cayden said, standing up, blaster pointed firmly at Oron.

"Well... look who's finally become the man his dad would be proud of?  Too bad he isn't around to see it... nor will you!" Oron said, lifting his blaster.  "Fire!"

Cayden dropped to the ground as blaster fire erutped and impacted the window behind him, casting shards of glass into the streets below.  He ducked to the left and squeezed a few rounds into the nearest soldier, dropping him to the ground.  Two of the soldiers attempted to climb over the bed, but Ashley fired off multiple rounds from out of the partially open bathroom.

"Cease fire!" Oron yelled.  "There is no need for more death here, Prince of Onderon... we'll be back!"  He proceeded to leave when the door closed in front of them.

"I don't think so... I have a counter offer for you..." Cayden said, taking Oron's blaster from him and casting it aside.  He drew up a chair and set it in front of the bed.  "Sit."

Oron sat, then asked "What's your offer, your Highness?"

"For you to serve onboard my ship, the Etere Videum," he said, sitting on the bed.  "How many men do you have left with you?"

"I have about two dozen men left with me, Prince," Oron said.

"Good... you and your men will be the crew of my ship, and make up the ground teams for deployment," Cayden said, smiling.  "In return, you and your men will not be executed, instead exonerated of your crimes against the Throne.  You will also be given the base pay of an officer... in addition to a commission into the Onderonian Navy.  Do we have a deal?"  He held out his hand.

Oron looked at the hand, then at Cayden and smiled.  "We have a deal," he said, shaking Cayden's hand.

"Good... now, for your first order: clean this mess up!  I don't want the Imperial authorities finding out about this incident," Cayden said, walking over to the door.

"Yes sir, your Highness!" Oron said, saluting Cayden.

Oron and his men began cleaning up the room as Cayden and Ashley walked out into the hall.

Ashley grabbed Cayden's hands and looked into his eyes and said "I don't think this is a good idea, Cayden..."

"I know... not one of my best... but, it'll give us a crew... for now... and, it will give me a chance to see if people can change," he said, hugging her.  "Bur for now, let's worry about how I'm going to get cleared for personal leave..."

Abrae: Landing Bay 41 - 06:20 hours

"There she is gentlemen... the Etere Videum.  A piece of fine hardware... and hopefully capable of completing our mission.  I've... had some modifications done on it.  I expanded the crew and passenger quarters, decreased the cargo hold, and added on some weapons left out of this model from the original design," Cayden said, smiling.  "She is more than capable of getting us to Onderon before the Palace is lost..."  His comlink went off before he could continue.  "Damnit... please excuse me for one minute..." he said, walking over to the ship.  "Yes?  This is Leading Crewman Cayden Tavers."

[[Crewman, you are requested to head to Security Station A-17 immediately!]]

"On who's orders?" he asked.

[[The Chief of Security's orders, Crewman.]]

Damnit...  "Alright, I'm on my way," he said, shutting the comlink off.  He walked back over to the group and said "There seems to be a problem at the Security Station.  I'll be back as soon as I can.  Ashley, get them onboard, and if I don't return in an hour, head to Dxun.  Do not let the New Republic patrols find you, should I not return."

"Cayden... you will get back... I know you will..." she said, hugging him.

"I hope so..." he said, looking her in the eyes.  "I love you."

"I love you too," she said, kissing him.

He then let go of her and began walking out of the landing bay, when Ashley came running up behind him and kissed him passionately.  She held him close, holding on for dear life, kissing him.  She then stopped and said "You be careful Amacuse..."

He looked into her eyes and smiled, a tear falling down his face.  "I will be, Ferocia... I promise."  He then let go of her and left the landing bay.

Abrae:Security Station A-17 - 07:04 hours

"Captain, I have no idea how sorry I am..." Cayden said, trying his best to sound sincere.

"Well, you should damn well be sorry, Crewman!  I have people at the Abrae Inn scared to death that they might be killed by random guns-for-hire!" the Captain, a rather stocky man, red in the face, said.  His waist sagged over his belt line, an obvious sign that he wasn't underfed, nor was he athletic.  His mustache moved like a caterpillar each time his mouth formed a syllable.

"I know, sir... I didn't choose to be attacked, sir... it's just that, they were soldiers from my home planet trying to prevent me from ending their revolution," he said, eyes fixated on the mustache.

"And how did they know you were here, son?" the caterpillar-mustache man said.

"They followed my girlfriend here... they attacked me several nights ago, but I managed to fight them off," he said, smiling.  "I knew they were going to keep coming back, so I set a trap for them in the Inn.  I knew the risk of innocents being hurt, but I decided that ending the attacks was well worth the risk.  And, as we can see, no innocents got hurt, only shaken up... and, the fighting was contained in one room, so the damage minimal... the damaged we also managed to fix afterwards."

The Captain looked at him, then sighed.  "You're lucky your a pilot, Mr. Tavers... otherwise, we'd have to lock you up for the night," he said, filling out some papers.  "Alright, Crewman Tavers, you're cleared to go."

"Thank you, Captain," he said, saluting.  "I'm sorry for any inconvenience I may have caused."

"Its alright, Crewman... these things happen from time to time..." he said, returning the salute.

Cayden walked out of the Security Station and noticed that he had little over twenty minutes to get to the landing bay.  Damnit... not enough time to get to the landing bay...  He pulled out his communicator and said "Ashley, do you copy?"

[[I read you loud and clear Cayden... where are you at?]]

"I'm not going to be able to make it back to the ship, Ashley... you guys take off without me.  I'll meet you at Dxun as soon as I can..." he said, tears falling down his cheeks.  "I'm sorry..."

He could hear crying coming from Ashley.  "Hey, now... don't cry... we'll see each other soon... I promise."

[[You... better get there soon, Cayden... I need you Cayden...]]

Cayden was about to answer when his datapad went off.  He pulled it out and read the message on the screen.

To all Tuk'ata Members:
You are to report to the Tuk'ata barracks by 10:00 hours for briefing.  This is a mandatory meeting.  All members must be on time!

Chief Warrant Officer Hunter Morrell, Squadron Commander

He looked at the datapad and sighed.  Now?  really? he thought.  "As do I need you, Ashley... I'll be there as soon as possible, I promise..." he said, wiping the tears from his face.  "I gotta go, Ashley... I'm almost at the barracks..."

[[Alright... I love you Cayden...]]

"I love you too Ashley..." he said, turning off the communicator after the signal dies.  Well... now to report in, listen to the briefing, and if its a mission, do it, otherwise... request personal leave and get your ass to Dxun.

Abrae: Tuk'ata Barracks - 07:57 hours

Cayden walked into the barracks and noticed that it was empty.  Well... this is what happens when you arrive early Cayden... you end up being first... damnit...  He sat down at the table, pulled out a pazaak deck, and started playing a game against himself.  Well... I hope people start arriving soon... else I'll be bored as hell, then fall asleep, then have a prank pulled on me... something I'm not a big fan of...

OOC:

WC: 2590
Okay everyone, this is just as a reference: the time stamps I posted were for coordination in my post with events... and, if its alright with you Hunter, everyone in the squadron should get that message sent by Hunter at about 07:16 hours... and the meeting set at 10:00 hours... so yeah... enjoy everyone!

"Leading Crewman Tavers, is it?" Stewart asked, his gravelly voice momentarily starling Cayden.

Turning around, and nearly saluting he responded, "Yes it is, Petty Officer Stewart right? Say, you look familiar..."  Too familiar, if you ask me... the only Mon Cal I ever met was in the Naval Academy and on...  "You wouldn't have happened to pass through the Onderon System several months ago, Petty Officer?"  Cayden sat down at the table, moving the deck aside.

Stewart sat down across from him, thinking.  Then, he said "Now that I think about it... I think I did pass through there a while back... I was on a supply run, and landed there to refuel.  I was at the cantina when..."

"A young hotshot prince, expelled from the Onderonian Naval Academy, paid you a ridiculous amount of credits to leave for a backwater planet called... Rhen Var, if I'm not mistaken," Cayden said, smiling.  He noticed he had a tickle in his throat, so he got up and grabbed his canteen, then walked back to the table.

"How did you...? It can't be... " Stewart said, leaning closer.  "Wait... Tavers... as in Cayden Tavers?!?"

Cayden smiled.  "The one and only!  No... Stewart!" Cayden exclaimed, half-bewildered.  "I can't believe I didn't recognize you!"

"Didn't recognize me?  There's only two Mon Cal in the entire Vast Empire, and the one that isn't me has a white birth mark across the side of his face," Stewart said, pulling out a deck of cards.  "I see you play pazaak... care for a few friendly rounds?"

Cayden smiled and grabbed his deck.  "Yeah... I can do a few..." he said, drawing his 4 cards.  "Any idea what this briefing is supposed to be about?"

Stewart looked up as he drew the first card off the deck.  "Not really sure... I talked to the SC earlier, and he said that we're going on shore leave..." he started.

Cayden threw his hand down on the table.  "Shore leave?!?  Here I was, hoping to finally get some flying in, and instead we get stuck on shore leave?!?" he exclaimed.

"Cayden... shore leave is a good thing... trust me, you'll be begging for it after several missions..." the Mon Cal said, handing Cayden his hand back, taking care to not look at the cards.

"You seem so certain that I'll be begging for it... I probably will be... but I'd rather be on a mission rather than shore leave right out of the Academy," Cayden said, taking his hand and drawing the next card.  Damn... this round's a bust...[i] he thought, playing a +5, rounding out his play at 18.  [i]I hope he busts or better... folds...

"Well, if you're so desperate for adventure... maybe you should go exploring the wilderness of the planet were going to: Jalor III.  I hear it has a rich ecology..." Stewart said, drawing a card that rounded out his hand to 20.  "I win... another game?"

Cayden frowned, then smiled and nodded.  "Yeah... lets go again..." he said, clearing the field.

OOC:

WC: 506
shortest
post
ever...

and Stewart... yes... pazaak...

Who is Phineus Gage?

This question had posed quite the problem for the twenty-three year old Imperial Pilot on the brink of a mid-mid-life crisis. A myriad of personal dilemmas had been leading him astray from the Navy quite frequently; his crew aboard the Fortis had all resigned, deeming his lack of maturity as the focal point of their operation’s recent crumbling. Once he had managed his way back into the cockpit of a Viper TIE fighter, the entire squadron seemed to all too rapidly and inexplicably deteriorate, and ultimately be decommissioned. That seemed to be the straw that inevitably broke the rancor’s back, if not his mind as well. All of the few variables in Phin’s life that could be deemed ‘normal,’ appeared to have evaporated in one fell swoop. For Phineus, the strong albeit dependent type, this would prove to be an exceptionally great debacle.

Following the climactic closing stages of Viper, Phineus once again had to rush off to handle his own private business; only this time would be different. Instead of planet hopping on some self-heroic quest with a slew of friends at his side, Phineus Gage decided to exile himself from the galaxy. For so long he had acted as a leader, being naturally grown into such mentality as a boy; never once since the passing of his mother has he been lead, something that could have benefited him and his mental maturation process. Unfortunately, that person never arrived in his life, and so he caved.

He notified the Navy via holo-mail after he had left, explaining in very minute detail that he wished to be placed on reserves, and that he wouldn’t know when that would change. Months passed and no word ever surfaced, despite the attempts of a few close pilots to get in contact with him. He packed two bags; one of medication- a fancy term for herbs, sleeping pills, and whiskey- and one of the few clothes he had with him during his stay with the Navy, and departed via shuttle to his home planet of Mustafar. It was there that he took upon a life of solitary, away from everything and everyone, for months, on the path to introverted enlightenment.

The happenings and details of his stay on Mustafar are absolutely unknown by anyone else; which, once he alerted the Naval brass that he was looking to re-enlist, prompted them to order him to undergo a professional psychoanalysis from the Navy’s top psychologists.

“We assure you, it is in the best interest of both you as a pilot and of the pilots that are to be flying in battle with you,” they would say.

And so he obliged, apathetically albeit willingly.

“The results are final; patient Phineus Gage has passed his psychological examines and is certified to fly,” was the outcome.

“I could have saved the Navy some time and credits by telling you that myself,” was his answer.

There was no doubt however that Phineus, somehow, had changed; and even more so that this was his last great run in the Navy. If it wouldn’t work out this time around, he would give it up for good.

As the months turned to days, Phineus’ life began to resume its standard routine aboard a Navy vessel, awaiting placement into one of the squadrons in the brand new Javelin Wing.

Javelin; he’d have to get used to the way that rolled off the tongue as opposed to the way Phoenix did.

Before long, he was placed in Tuk’ata; which unlike the newly commissioned 153rd Rhegent’s Reign, was not the squadron that took the place of Viper. Knowing this, Phineus surprised himself at the thought of being perfectly okay with this.

Maybe I’m not as attached as I thought, he mused. Then again, I could use a fresh start, so maybe it’s nothing to overanalyze.

He had even began looking forward to getting to know and eventually working with this new batch of pilots; and what better way to do that than to re-enlist right as Tuk’ata was to go on vacation.

However, there was one member of the newly formed squadron that Phineus was acquainted with, and it just so happened to be the Squadron Commander, Hunter Morrell. Hunter had begun as an eager Viper upstart, before being transferred out and therefore only working with Phineus for a very short time. However, the two were friendly with one another, and Phineus needed to talk to someone familiar after being away from any trace of sentient life for quite awhile. It was he whom Phineus had been patiently awaiting, outside the doors of Tuk’ata’s conference room.

Phineus was sporting his casual stylings of a black, long-sleeved shirt beneath his leather jerkin, and his favorite pair of sweatpants. His gleaming black hair draped over his eyes, which would invoke consistent flips of his hair (not that he minded). His beard had gone trimmed, yet unshaved for a handful of weeks now, and blended in effortlessly with his appearance as a whole- purposefully messy, with intentions set on comfort. He looked every bit as laid back as was his true demeanor.

Hunter rounded a corner ahead of Phineus, who had one leg and his back propped up against the wall, “Ready,” Hunter declared.

As the two began their approach vector towards the Moonlight Shadow, Phineus inquired, “I’m proud to see you’ve made it this far; how’s the pressure been?”

“You mean of being the first SC of Tuk’ata?”

“Aye.”

“Guess I don’t really think too much about it,” Hunter admitted.

“Seems like they threw you right into the easy stuff,” said Phineus.

Hunter grimaced slightly, “Much to my dissatisfaction. How are you? From your file it appears that you’ve been away from action for awhile… again.”

Phineus let a smile crack through one side of his face, “Whatever these files have to say, they’re probably correct.”

“Well,” Hunter began as they entered into the hangar bay housing the Shadow, “it’s good to have you as apart of the team. Hope your first mission back won’t be too stressful on you.”

The two shook hands and boarded the Shadow, Hunter placed his bags in the containment hold, Phin kept his one pack at his feet.

“Remember, no weapons or Imperial signatures,” Hunter reminded.

“Of course not,” said Phineus defensively, “I just brought plenty of whiskey.”

_____________________________________________________________

wc- 1,060

OOC:

Thought I'd try something fun with this NPC. For those who've never read me before, don't worry. Drac's not this way.

===Senior Crewman Lorrant Jacobs, mSSD Atrus Main Hangar===

Lorrant Jacobs glanced casually around the hangar as he strolled off the boarding ramp of the Lambda class shuttle that had brought him to the Atrus. The young man smirked confidently as he examined the various crewmen, pilots, and officers hurrying about on their various duties, brishing a strand of his longish brown hair out of his right eye. Sure, it is a big ship, he thought to himself, but the crew is nothing special. From the looks of things I will have my Squadron Commander eating out of the palm of my hand in no time.

The human pilot sauntered casually toward the hangar's main door, heading in the general direction of the pilot billets he knew would inevitably be found nearby. As he came up to the door, though, he grabbed a Crewman by the arm as the other man walked past, "You, there! Where is the barracks for the 26th squadron?"

The Crewman scowled at this rude pilot's peremptory tone, but replied nonetheless, "Javelin Wing is two levels up and aft of the turbolifts. You'll see the signs."

Jacobs looked down his nose at the man before nodding, "Carry on, then." Turning around, he walked out of the hangar. Had he moved just a little bit slower he would have heard the other man's not-too-kind remarks about him. No matter what speed he went, though, he would not have cared. To respond would have been to acknowledge the man, after all, and a lowly Crewman was practically beneath his notice.

A few minutes' walk found the Senior Crewman strolling casually into the main room of Tuk'ata Squadron's barracks. A few pilots were already in residence, scattered about in the various chairs and couches that littered the room. He favored them with a cool glance and then, glancing at his datapad for reference, continued blithely to his new room. It was small, holding a double bunk, some desks, and a couple of storage units. I guess they will have to do for now. Still, they are little better than the muddy little tents round troops use. He spent a few minutes there, unpacking the essentials among his few belongings, before a slightly gravelly voice called the pilots into the main room again.

Entering the larger room once again, Lorrant found one of the higher quality chairs -if any of these could actually be considered so- and settled into it. A blonde man was standing near the center of the room, his rank patches showing him to be a Chief Warrant Officer. The man nodded as the last of the pilots seated themselves, then began to outline the leave the squadron had been assigned. As the man talked, Jacobs examined him with some contempt, Obviously this is supposed to be our Squadron Commander. What sort of a farce is this? This kid isn't even an officer. He has probably been on, what? Six missions? Seven? And besides, we are going on Leave? I thought this squadron had just been formed. I wonder what incompetent thought that was a good idea. The Navy must really be suffering if the leadership is that bad. The Squadron Commander, finished with his speech, told them to pack up and be on their ship as quickly as possible. Hmph. What is he going to bring, I wonder? Some liquor and a gaming datapad, in all likelihood. Well, at least this will be an opportunity to sleep somewhere more comfortable than the sorry excuses for beds we have been given. Who knows? I may even find someone marginally interesting to talk to while we are away.

Returning to his new quarters, Jacobs simply removed his uniforms from his baggage, as well as the standard sidearm and other gear given to him at the Academy. It left his satchel depressingly empty, the bag hanging limply with only a couple of sets of civilian clothing within. I will definitely have to see about acquiring a wardrobe more fitting for me, he thought as he hefted the satchel over his shoulder and exited the room once more. Once in the squadron's main room he noticed another pilot, the Mon Calamari Flight Leader who had called them out of their rooms, walking toward the exit. He shrugged and followed, making sure to keep a discrete distance from the other pilot as they made their way to the ship. It wouldn't do for anyone to think him to be friends with such a creature, after all. No, that wouldn't do at all.

===== Shuttle, On the way to Jalor III =====
Stewart-Power looked around at the other pilots sitting silently on the seats next to him. The lights darkened as the shuttle entered hyperspace. He faced the shuttle's entrance door to his right, and listened to Cayden try to spark a cheery conversation with Gamma flight's newest addition; a Senior Crewman by the name Lorrant Jacobs.

Jacobs at seemed average enough, but his eyes betrayed what he tried to hide, an air of arrogant self assuredness. Sometimes he let himself slip, but it was usually when observing someone in the squadron. After the introductions were made, he resumed the façade of a high-class born pilot. Although, Thel thought he could still see the Senior Crewman looking down upon the lower ranking members.

While Amacuse was asking friendly questions, trying to probe the newest member, Jacobs would reply to the question in an equally condescending manner. Getting no more information then he asked for, Cayden quit his questioning and turned his attention to the metal floor of the shuttle.
Suddenly he turned to his flight leader and asked;

"Hey Stewart, what are going to do once we get there?"

Thel turned, and cast a questioning glance at Cayden. The Mon Cal could tell that the young pilot was waiting eagerly to test the new freedoms brought to him by his recent promotion.
He responded;

"Well I'm going to the nearest hotel, and changing out of these travellers’ fatigues. I don't know about you." He trailed off, and started gazing at the corner of the shuttle. He waited a few moments before adding;

"You have free reign..." He said with a slight smirk.

He watched with one eye, as Cayden's back straightened out at the last remark, and the anticipation registered on his face. Thel bemused to himself; Well he always was bad a Sabaac... He smiled to himself at the thoughts of what it would be like serving with a man like Cayden during a battle.

===== Moonlight Shadow =====
Stewart-Power was heading over to his bunk, from the landing bay bay, when he encountered Lorrant Jacobs. He approached the Senior Crewman, who was ignoring the Mon Cal's presence as much as possible.

"Senior Crewman Lorrant Jacobs, what is standard Imperial Military procedure for when you are approached by a superior? Especially your particular superior?"

The Gravelly voice behind him, caused the crewman to turned around quickly and deliver contemptuous salute. The Mon Cal Flight leader returned the salute, smartly and properly.

"Senior Crewman Lorrant Jacobs re..." The flight member's voice trailed off as Thel cut him off.

"Stow it Crewman. I've been meaning to talk to to you. This Holier Then Thou attitude will get you nowhere here. You're lucky I'm even putting up with it. From most non-coms, and especially an Officer, you'd be getting a court marshal and a reassignment on some backwater station. And if you think we're going to some backwater planet, trust me, it's nothing compared to where they'd send you if you've ticked off an officer.
Now look, the only reason I'm telling you this, is because the Vast Empire could use all the front-line units it can get its hands on. And if you've made it this far, I'd hate to lose something like that, all because of a personality issue.
The only reason I'm telling you this, is because I want you to know our situation, and I also want to make sure I can trust you. You can always trust anybody in this squadron, because in the heat of battle, they'll expect to be able to trust you.
So, do I have your trust?"

"Affirmative, Sir" Lorrant responded, saluted once more, did a heel face turn, and stalked away. This time, Thel hadn't returned the salute.

===== Jalor city, Space-port =====
Stewart-Power looked around at the city space-port. Nothing particularity fancy, He thought to himself as he observed the grey landing-pad leading up to the dark blue port authority buildings that lined the Port itself. Better then the one I took from Trandosha on my way to join the Vast Empire, at least. He thought humorously to himself.

Because of the neutrality of Jalor III, the government had seen fit the separate the flight's of Tuk’ata squadron. Alpha was to go to the Western apartment bloc, Beta to the Northern apartment bloc, and Gamma to Eastern apartment bloc.

He headed towards Gamma flight's apartment bloc, and as they left the Southern, industrial zone, they entered the city's eastern residential area. The buildings in this are where clearly older then the other areas. But on the way, Thel noticed the crumbled, old buildings of slums bordering the industrial zone give way to the, still old, but much nicer buildings of the apartment blocs. They headed to their individual rooms, once they arrived at their apartment. Thel sat in his room, his clothes neatly lain on the bed next to him, staring out the window at the park behind the apartment building. An Idea popped into his head. He picked up his data pad and sent a message to Cayden.

"Hello, Tavers, interested in taking a walk?"

OOC:

862 Words. Alright, if anybody has any qualms against what I did, feel free to take them up with me.
Also, Amacuse, if you want, you can have another one of your infamous flashbacks...