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Topic:  Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
DeepSix
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DeepSix
 
[VE-DJO] Journeyman
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer (CWO)
 
Post Number:  316
Total Posts:  973
Joined:  Jul 2010
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  Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 11, 2011 3:35:01 AM    View the profile of DeepSix 
"You're free to go sir", the skinny Petty Officer's voice briefly echoed in the small room just before the man saluted and turned around to leave. And why should he stay anyway now that his trivial task of delivering a message had been accomplished? The blond fellow left behind in the suffocating room could certainly not answer such a question. "'Bout time", he instead uttered to himself after indulging in one final deep yawn.

The blond human male had been stuck in that tiny room for almost a whole week, having nothing to do except work out and be bored out of his mind. Apparently borrowing his captain's fighter was a big no-no that still had to be punished according to military regulations. This despite the fact that by using said fighter the blond individual helped his colleagues a great deal during the last big skirmish above Belgaroth's orbit. Why, the Navy even saw fit to reward him for his actions by promoting him to the rank of Chief Warrant Officer. Whatever happened to the end that justified the means - that was a question the man must've asked himself a hundred times or more during his brief quasi-imprisonment period.

The man silently cursed the stuck up pencil pushers one more time before slowly getting up on his feet and stretching for a few seconds. He then reached down and picked up the top of his wrinkled uniform, putting it on and trying to straighten it out a little more before finally exiting into a long corridor belonging to the Super Star Destroyer Atrus. The massive ship was still stationed in the Belgaroth system, acting as both a temporary sanctuary for all the crewmen that could not yet return to their own ships but acting also as a detriment to any more possible sneak attacks that either the Remnant or the New Republic might consider. As far as Seth Qorbin knew, his own squadron was also stationed somewhere on the huge ship. It was only a matter of time before he would be able to find them. The ship was after all what - only a few miles long and wide?

~~~~~


It only took the Nightshrike commander an hour and fifteen minutes to find and reach his assigned quarters. His personal effects had already been transferred from the Halcyon Warrior and were now just lying around in unopened boxes. He would get to those eventually - is what the man told himself, not really feeling in the mood to decorate his new room. No, rather than work towards his personal comfort Seth instead made his way to the desk in the middle of the room, took a seat and began accessing various documents.

The CWO came across the final lists of casualties that the Belgaroth system devoured only days earlier. There were thousands upon thousands of names listed there - ship captains, officers, crewmen and of course pilots. The ominous abbreviation KIA seemed to stretch forever as the Onderonian kept scrolling down, glancing over the names - somewhat curious whether any of them will catch his eye. This lasted for a few minutes before the man finally applied a few filters to the search, limiting his query to just the fighter pilots that had been stationed aboard the Warrior.

So many casualties there as well. About half his former ship's fighter contingent had apparently been lost in battle, quite a few more ships and pilots in need of repair and healing and only a few still able to fight. Whilst DeepSix got bored out of his mind the brass apparently took steps to correct this situation - more starfighters had been shipped in and more transfers had been made as well in order to replace the dead and the injured. Nightshrike too ended up getting a few new transfers because of this. The squadron commander thus made a mental note to check out their dossiers as well as actually see what they were capable of with his own eyes. The last thing he needed were more rookies eager to prove themselves and end up getting killed in the process... like last time.

May as well check things out for myself, Seth thought as he switched applications and after a little fiddling around managed to send a message to all the Nightshrike members, asking them to meet up in hangar D5-32 within the hour. The blond commander was thoughtful enough to attach an interactive map, showing the hangar's location and thus making things easier for those that may not yet have gotten used to the ship's layout.

OOC:
I intentionally cut the intro short in order to give each of you a chance to write where you were and what you were doing. If you've been in the bar fight feel free to mention that as well - maybe having a few cuts and bruises, having spent some time in the infirmary or the brig. Otherwise feel free to provide some background of your characters if you're new or maybe some thoughts and/or changes in regards to Belgaroth.

I also know a few of you are still busy and short on time so I figure smaller posts will help you post more frequently in order to keep things moving along. Like always if you have questions of any kind drop me a line.

SC/CWO DeepSix/A-1/S:82 Nightshrike/W:??? Nameless/ISD Nameless/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE [=*TG*=]

TRN/JRN DeepSix/DJO/Training Sect/VEDJ
Shadow-Sword
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Shadow-Sword
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman (LCRW)
 
Post Number:  18
Total Posts:  29
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 11, 2011 7:32:47 PM    View the profile of Shadow-Sword 
This thing is huge! It’s by luck that I found this simulator. I was going to be very bored and confused if I didn’t find this thing. I’m not going to dare to go anywhere.

As those thoughts were dissected, examined, re-dissected, and re-examined in Rowds’ mind, his datapad beeped at him, signaling a new message. Opening the message, he saw it was from a certain Chief Warrant Officer DeepSix, his new Squadron Commanding Officer. The orders were to meet DeepSix in one hour at hanger D5-32. DeepSix had even been thoughtful enough to attach an interactive map to guide the new people.

Putting aside the orders the message carried for the time being, Rowds attempted to see if he could get the map permanently on his device by downloading it onto the datapad.

Let’s see. I open the map, then click there, and then on the Properties button. Copy out the routing address, and then open the Download Manager, put the routing address in it, and it should work.

The datapad displayed a message:
------

Download failed. You do not have access to such classified material. Please put in a request through your commanding officer if you require a copy.

------

Sighing, Rowds pulled the message up and reopened the interactive map.

Alright, let me see. D5-32 is... there. And I should be... here. Looks like a short enough walk, maybe up to five minutes. DeepSix did say to be there in one hour, so I should have enough time to run one more simulation.

Rowds looked over longingly at the simulator, thinking about the next mission he could run.

On the other hand, if I was there quick, maybe I’ll make an impression on my Squadron Commander. Simulation versus impression? Temporary versus permanent? ... I’ll go to the hangar.

Taking a brisk pace, Rowds easily reached the hangar in about five minutes without having to jostle through any crowds.

Well, no one is here, so...Guess I’ll just wait and lounge around.

Finding a crate that looked semi-comfortable, Rowds just sat there and waited for something to happen...


OOC:
Word Count: 349]
FM/LCW Shadow-Sword/B-4/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/ISD Iron Duke/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE
[This message has been edited by Shadow-Sword (edited December 11, 2011 9:51:37 PM)]
Hades
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Hades
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman (SCRW)
 
Post Number:  37
Total Posts:  1245
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 12, 2011 2:09:25 AM    View the profile of Hades 
Hades read over his datapad, studying the Special Warfare Combatant file on the handheld device. He had been studying ever since the bar fight, seeing as he had to recover anyway. He had been down to the hangar several times, checking that the Interceptor assigned to him was kept sparkly clean and up to date on repairs and maintenance.

Hades flicked to the next page, stroking the cut on his chin absentmindedly. It was fresh from the bar fight - he had gotten suckered by a damn ship crewman. Hades grimaced as he felt an ache run through his body... a beep emanated from his datapad, indicating that he had one new message - from CWO DeepSix, his Squadron Commander. Hades' eyes flickered briefly over the message and he sighed.. not so much at the message as at the prospect of exiting his quarters and making the journey from there to the hangar, where DeepSix would be waiting.

Hades frowned and looked at his chrono - it would take him maybe 30 minutes to get there. He thought he may as well go early - either that or stay here studying for his SWC test. He shrugged. Better to be early and meet the commander for the first time. Making up his mind, Hades stood from his desk, wincing as he felt his back ache.

The medic had said no permanent damage had been done, but it would hurt for a few days. Hades grimaced once more before exiting his quarters. He took an immediate right, heading for the turbolifts.. He recalled from memory he must take the third turbo lift to level D, and then switch to turbolift four to get to level H. He navigated flawlessly, and eventually found himself in the hangar. He was still unused to his new rank of Senior Crewman - straight out of the academy too! - Hades could not believe it when he had recieved the news. But he did believe it now, and he saw a leading crewman in the hangar.

Hades was not one to gloat, and so merely nodded at the crewman Rowds, whom he did not know. He didn't approach Rowds - Hades was polite, but he was not outgoing when he didn't need to be. If Rowds wanted to meet him, that was fine by Hades, but he was not often one to speak first.  Instead, he navigated the Hangar deck for his assigned fighter, and began checking up on it, making sure the maintenance had been performed, and running a brief check of the flight systems. Satisfied, he left the fighter and found a bench nearby, beginning to disassemble his standard sidearm, the DL-44 to kill his time.

He examined the Sci-grip Fi-plating, on the handle, removing it and checking to see the attachment was still strong. Satisfied that it was, he went on to test the charge of the Ripley battery, taking the blaster apart piece by piece, examining key parts such as the Heat Sink fins, the firing coils, the scope. He took about 20 minutes to do this, and 5 more to reassemble it. He looked at his chrono - DeepSix should be here in 5 minutes or so, Hades reasoned.

He shrugged and holstered the weapon - which was unfortunately drained, due to the fact he was aboard a ship. He grimaced and made a mental note to buy himself a new blaster. He settled down to wait, leaning against the bench and gazing toward the Hangar entrnace.
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Senior Crewman Hades, Nightshrike Squadron

FM/SCW "Hades"/A-2/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/ISD Iron Duke/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE

[XMA][AFM][INF]

"This is not a cattle market in Shaum Hii, Lieutenant Tschel. This is the bridge of an Imperial Star Destroyer. Routine information is not—repeat, not—simply shouted in the general direction of its intended recipient. Is that clear?"
-Gilad Pellaeon to Tschel
Ryn
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Ryn
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman (LCRW)
 
Post Number:  17
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 12, 2011 6:10:46 PM    View the profile of Ryn 
Ryn stepped off the transport slowly, taking in her new surroundings. It was her first time on an ISD, and the massive scope of the hanger gave her a preview of what was to come. Everyone seemed to have somewhere to go, the air itself had a vibration to it. She numbly felt her arm get bumped several times by other pilots pushing past the dumbfounded noob.

"Leading Crewman Kerdi."

She blinked out of her daze and searched for the source of the voice. It came from an older woman standing in a uniform with the rank of petty officer, she held a datapad and was searching the crowd as it disembarked.

"Yes, that's me." Ryn raised her hand and stepped forward, giving her pack a readjustment on her shoulder. The bag seemed suddenly heavier than she remembered when she packed it.

"New to the 82nd huh? Your to report to deck 73 section zeta. The barracks are fairly easy to find from there, you shouldn't have any trouble. Just pick a bunk that's free, you aren't scheduled for anything until tomorrow." She gave a nod and she was off speaking to other officers.

Ryn took a deep breath and headed for the turbolift doors. She was never someone that had a 'good' sense of direction. Which held its certain irony given that she was a decent pilot and could manage to get from point A to point B with little trouble in a three dimensional environment. You give her directions or a map of a city, and she typically was lost within minutes. Her friends never tired of teasing her for that fact.

The thought of her friends back home gave her a sudden unexpected pang of longing. She knew her reasons for leaving, and they were still valid. Ryn needed to get out of her families shadow, they were nobles, so they got everything they wanted. She was expected to just be a lady and deal with it. Unfortunately, life just refused to be that easy for her.

She did have friends, people that understood her and accepted her. She couldn't even tell them her plans, she needed to have enough of a head start from her parents resources to really get established. One day she would go back, she could only hope her family would finally just let her be whoever she wanted to be.

The barracks weren't as crowded as she expected. Many of the pilots were obviously taking advantage of the rare free time. She knew she wanted to get some time in the sims or even the gym in. Maybe even work on some certificates while she could. Anything to keep busy, she also didn't sit still well.

An empty bottom bunk called her name and she tossed the pack onto it. It would take a while to unpack all of her things, but at least she had the small comfort in knowing she wouldn't be moving any time soon. Then it would be time to explore...or maybe she should study the ISD maps a few more times, just in case.

OOC:
Word Count: 517. Guys feel free to interact with Ryn while we are getting settled, now that she's there and all I figure we could start introducing our characters to each other
FM/LCW Ryn/B-3/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/ISD Iron Duke/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE [VM]
Hades
ComNet Novice
 
Hades
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman (SCRW)
 
Post Number:  46
Total Posts:  1245
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 18, 2011 12:43:11 AM    View the profile of Hades 
Hades shrugged to himself; It seemed he might have to wait a little longer. He hadn't seen Deepsix or Ryn, so decided to walk over to Rowds. Hades sat next to him and sighed slightly, extending his hand in a commonly recognised gesture of introduction.

"I'm Demetrius Aita. Callsign Hades." Rowds grasped his hand in return and nodded.

"Asdhow Rowds - Callsign Shadow-sword" Hades nodded as he heard the man's name - he already knew, as he looked over his squadron roster several times since being assigned.

"Life of a Flight Member, eh?" Hades said to Rowds. Rowds grunted and looked up.

"What?" he asked, not understanding.

"Always waiting on others, you know." Hades explained. Rowds nodded as he understood. Hades shrugged. "Oh well. This is better than a lock up on Kessel if you ask me." Rowds nodded again, chuckling quietly.

"Any day. You were locked up in Kessel?" Rowds asked him. Hades nodded in acknowledgement.

"Aye.. I got caught scavenging from an Imperial Munitions depot. Fortunately for me, I saved some Imperial Officer's life, so after only 2 years of my sentence he got me out and into the VE." Hades shrugged again. "And well, Now I'm here. Senior Crewman Hades. Who'd have thought?" Hades chuckled sarcastically.

"Didn't exactly expect to be here myself, either." Rowds responded.  Hades nodded.

"I don't think many of us did." He trailed off as he saw Kathryn Kerdi - Callsign Ryn walking through the entrance. Hades nudged Rowds and nodded toward Ryn. "Here comes Ryn...." Rowds followed Hades' gaze and nodded.

"She's a nice girl. Pretty sure she'll do well here. I like her" Hades said, speaking absentmindedly. Rowds raised an eyebrow as Hades thought aloud. Ryn approached them, a smile crossing her features.

"Hey guys, any sign of the Commander yet?" She asked, looking around. Hades and Rowds both shook their heads... Hades had seniority among the three of them, but nobody told him any more than they told the other two...

"Nope."

OOC:
Just a short post to get dialogue started between the three squadmates more character development than anything; and yes, I've finally chosen a full name for my Character
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Senior Crewman Demetrius "Hades" Aita, Nightshrike Squadron

FM/SCW "Hades"/A-2/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE
(=SWC=)
[XMA][AFM][INF]


"Your generic TIE grunt is just plain suicidal. And the TIE Defender jockey is bloodthirsty. But the TIE Interceptor pilot, he's suicidal and bloodthirsty. When you see a squad of those maniacs flying your way, you'd better hope your hyperdrive is operational."
-Kyle Katarn
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
DeepSix
ComNet Member
 
DeepSix
 
[VE-DJO] Journeyman
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer (CWO)
 
Post Number:  321
Total Posts:  973
Joined:  Jul 2010
Status:  Offline
  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 18, 2011 10:01:17 AM    View the profile of DeepSix 
Dozens of racks holding hundreds of TIEs, thousands of bright lights and beeping noises, tens of droids, mechanics, engineers and pilots running around - no doubt that's what most people thought of when thinking about a regular Star Destroyer's hangars. That description was accurate too... for certain ISD models and under certain circumstances. Hangar D5-32 aboard the SSD Atrus was nothing like that however.

For starters it was not a main hangar and as such was a whole lot smaller - especially if one was to compare it to the humongous size of the Atrus. It only had a dozen or so TIE Interceptors scattered throughout, a handful of droids and mechanics verifying their critical systems, a couple of security guards by the entrance and a slowly increasing mass of pilots that kept coming in for some reason the mechanics weren't really sure of. Most of the flyboys - and flygirls - were human but the Atrus crew could tell there were also a couple of aliens amongst them as well. One Zabrak's horns in particular were somewhat hard to miss...

"He'll be here", the Zabrak was heard assuring another pilot. "...I think", was the whisper the alien added more for himself than any of the other squadron members. The newly appointed SXO's uncertainty was somewhat understandable though. On one hand he knew Qorbin usually kept his word and followed through with whatever he decided. On the other hand though he knew his CO usually kept his word and followed through with his decisions. Yup, there was always that slight chance the Nightshrike commander changed his mind about the meeting and simply forgot or just didn't care to let anyone else know of this fact. Granted that something similar only happened once before - that Fyston knew of at least - but to the alien that single precedent was enough to cast a shadow of doubt...

A few more minutes went by before the hangar doors slid open and two figures could be seen in the doorway - both roughly the same height and build, one already wearing his flight helmet however whilst the other one merely holding it in his left hand. The two stopped briefly, turned to each other and exchanged a couple of friendly salutes before the helmet wearing figure disappeared into the corridor outside and the remaining fellow slowly but confidently made his way inside, towards the group of pilots.

The approaching man was in his mid twenties, around six feet tall, with auburn hair and a tired and/or bored expression. By the looks of things he also needed a shave... "Six, eight, eleven", he could barely be heard mumbling as he approached.

"For those of you that don't know me - name's Seth Qorbin, I'm the 82nd squadron's CO and as such the guy in charge of you lot. I follow an open door policy, I don't particularly care about protocol and I expect each of you to follow my orders to the letter when flying out there. But that should be enough about me for the time being. Get in your assigned fighters and follow me outside."

Despite his tired complexion the man's voice was loud and clear, the words however spoken coldly and lacking passion, conviction or any other strong emotion. Because of this the brief speech seemed rehearsed and fake - not entirely untrue though not quite accurate either however.

"Move it Shrikes!" the blond man ordered and without waiting for any reactions turned and began walking towards the first Interceptor available. Veteran pilots as well as concerned crewmen knew that the crafts were usually positioned in the same manner - A1, B1 and Γ1 closest to the launch ramp, with the rest of the fighters merely following that example - a row of A,B,Γ2s then 3s and finally 4s. This was also the way hierarchy within a squadron was usually established, with Alphas being more important than Betas and Betas being more important than Gammas, then with 1s beating 2s, 2s beating 3s and lastly 3s surpassing 4s. It was not necessarily a good way of organizing things but it was however efficient enough as far as the Empire and now the Vast Empire splinter group were concerned...

Time for a few lessons, Seth mused as he climbed in his new Interceptor and closed the hatch behind him.

OOC:
Like I said before - this is the second intro round where you can keep on interacting with one another, describe first impressions and maybe towards the end of the post describe pre-flight procedures and the actual launch. Note that these are merely suggestions on my part and nothing more. The action will slowly begin to unfold starting next round.

SC/CWO DeepSix/A-1/S:82 Nightshrike/W:??? Nameless/ISD Nameless/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE [=*TG*=]

TRN/JRN DeepSix/DJO/Training Sect/VEDJ
Hades
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Hades
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman (SCRW)
 
Post Number:  49
Total Posts:  1245
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 19, 2011 8:13:35 AM    View the profile of Hades 
Hades grunted the last word to Ryn's question "Nope." As if on cue, DeepSix emerged, and Hades fell silent as he turned to salute his SCO casually.

"Evening, Sir." Hades greeted, but in space you could never really say when night time or day time was. There was no standardised chrono for the galaxy. Well, it was night time somewhere in the galaxy. Deep acknowledged him with a slight nod as he spoke his introduction and subsequent orders.

Hades nodded as Deep strode off in the direction of the A1 position. Hades himself found the place of A2, scaling his TIE-In's side, and pulling open the hatch. Dropping into the cabin of the fighter, he pulled the hatch closed behind him as he ran pre-flight checks. Deep was not rushing them out of the hangar - good, that gave him time to do his preflight checks at least twice.

Chatter came across his comm from the other members of Shrike, which Hades acknowledged from time to time with a short grunt or a one word response. He flicked his repulsors on, letting his TIE hover freely, before flicking them off again. That concluded his second pre-flight check. Hades smiled slightly and sat back, awaiting Deep's departure from the hangar.

Hades was glad to see DeepSix firing up his engines, as his TIE lifted from the rack and sped outward, through the feint shimmer that marked the atmospheric shield, preventing atmosphere from escaping outward in a horrible decompression. Hades followed his SCO out of the hangar, pushing his throttle to a quarter to match the SCO's speed.

Hades misjudged, and began to overtake the commander. He grunted and slowed his throttle, performing a slow barrel roll to bring his speed into check. He noticed Deep peeling away from the Atrus and followed the simple turn. Hades figured that they were going on a routine patrol of they system, but his instincts once more picked this as an exercise devised by their more-than-competent SCO.

He shrugged inwardly - a movement that would have been quite difficult in the confines of his flight suit and pilot's seat - and settled into a pattern that allowed him to follow his SCO without getting too close. He flicked his eyes down to his display and saw two more contacts - their transponders reading Shadow-Sword and Ryn accordingly.

He wondered where Fyston was, when he saw another TIE swoop in overhead and take position near Deep. Hades grinned and nodded. It seemed as if this would be quite fun. He was not here for fun, however, and he moved his mind back to the task at hand. Right now, all he would do was follow his SCO, as per his orders.

He figured that they would be tested in one way or another, sooner or later. Sooner was preferable to later, Hades had thought, but he was prepared for either. He opened his Squad Channel.

"A-2, Hades, in position sir." he said in a calm voice, watching his displays quietly. The acknowledgement came back shortly thereafter, and Hades heard the rest of the squadron doing the same. Hades frowned on himself - again - he was too competitive, too ambitious. He had to remember that this was not about personal performance, the SC was about how well you worked together as a squadron. Whether you were an MCPO or a lowly LCRW, if you didn't have your squad working together, you had a low chance of survival.

Hades knew this and he reprimanded himself for his ambition. Ambition could come later - out here they were brothers and sisters all, and needed each other to watch their backs. Hades smiled and checked his display once more - nothing'd changed since he last looked.

OOC:
Word Count: 633.

AAR: A short post. Not much to work with in regards to exiting the hangar. Hades meets the SCO for the first time, and his confidence in him is not shaken by the meeting. Hades reprimands himself for putting his own ambition above the welfare of the squad and settles back into a more... 'team-friendly' attitude.
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Senior Crewman Demetrius "Hades" Aita, Nightshrike Squadron

FM/SCW "Hades"/A-2/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE
(=SWC=)
[XMA][AFM][INF]


"Your generic TIE grunt is just plain suicidal. And the TIE Defender jockey is bloodthirsty. But the TIE Interceptor pilot, he's suicidal and bloodthirsty. When you see a squad of those maniacs flying your way, you'd better hope your hyperdrive is operational."
-Kyle Katarn
Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Fyston
ComNet Novice
 
Fyston
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Petty Officer (CPO)
 
Post Number:  95
Total Posts:  151
Joined:  May 2011
Status:  Offline
  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 23, 2011 4:32:08 PM    View the profile of Fyston 
"Alright, your time here is up."

Fyston raised his head and glanced towards the shield that separated him from the rest of the ship. According to the official regulations, fighting and severely incapacitating a fellow Imperial was a bad thing. Of course, Rulf would have time to think about what he had done after he got out of the medbay. After reading the reports, Fyston learned that he had broken Rulf's nose, damaged one of his kidneys, and bruised his windpipe. He likely would have received more time were it not for the fact that Rulf had pulled a knife in a move that still had Fyston angry. It didn't help that he had been completely clean since being tossed in the brig, something that added to his moodiness. Were it not for the large amount of people being sent to the brig after the fight, Fyston would have gotten caught with amounts of illegal substances in his bloodstream. Luckily for him, however, he had an extra day and a half to flush out his system. Snapping himself back to the present, the Zabrak rolled out of the uncomfortable bed.

"You're kriffing right that my time here is up, and you better have my effects."

"Calm down, I have your stuff right here."

Fyston shot the man an angry stare as the shield was deactivated. Rather than waiting for the man to hand him his effects, Fyston roughly snatched them from the human, signed his name on the datapad that indicated his release, and strode out of the door. The items that he was carrying at the time of his arrest were in a nice little box, one that they wouldn't be getting back any time soon. He withdrew his datapad to find an alert signaling an incoming message. He pressed lightly on the screen, pulling up the message from his commanding officer. He was to rendezvous with the rest of his squadron in hangar D5-32 before the hour was out. He had enough time to return to his quarters, change into his flight suit, withdraw something from his hidden stash, and get to the hangar. He'd have to ingest his stash in his fighter or in the locker rooms, whichever he could reach first. For some reason, he wasn't sad today. However, the Zabrak was as irritable as ever and was one confrontation away from going back to the brig. He got like this whenever he suffered from his withdrawals and usually flopped back and forth from depressed and melancholy to angry and confrontational. The spice leveled him out, made life more bearable.

I don't have to think when I'm high, and nothing bothers me.

Fyston had made it to his bunk within twenty minutes and threw his stuff down, causing his comlink to bounce out of the box. He withdrew his hydrospanner and his flight suit, glanced around at the empty barracks room, and retreated into the refresher. He glanced at the number of tiles, blinking lights, and access panels. He locked the refresher door and began counting in his head.

Three over, two down, five diagonally down, three straight up.

He activated his hydrospanner and it was only a few seconds before he had removed a hidden panel. Inside was a pipe, though one that was defunct and held no use. He carefully detached a section of the pipe and withdrew a small baggie. He stuffed the baggie into his flight suit pocket and heard a knocking at the door.

"Hurry up in there, the rest of us need to use the 'freshers as well!"

"Gimme a minute, blast it!"

Fyston reattached the section of pipe and replaced the panel quickly. He felt over it to ensure that there was no seams and secured it to the wall. He washed his hands and quickly changed into his flight suit. He unlocked the door and opened it, slipping past an angry crewman as he did so. He had twenty minutes to make the short turbolift ride to the hangar and hurried along, trying not to think of the enticing spice in his pocket.

He walked confidently into the hangar a few minutes later and retreated into the nearby locker room without drawing any eyes. He withdrew the baggie, broke off a small piece of spice, stuck it between his teeth, and slipped the baggie into a secure pocket. He quickly slipped his helmet onto his head to avoid any obvious clues that something was going on. His horns pressed through the cut holes in the helmet and Fyston activated the seal that prevented from air escaping. He bumped into a new addition to Nightshrike as he entered the hangar, one he didn't yet know. He'd been with Hades and Ryn in the brawl, but this one hadn't introduced himself to Fyston.

"According to the report, you got more time than many of us. Why?"

"That was my second brawl. Two strikes and the like, making an example or whatever."

"I heard you did quite the number on Rulf. How did you manage it when nobody else could?"

"My people are warriors. I was taught the art of Serat Kasi as a child."

"Serat Kasi? What's that?"

"Enough with the twenty questions, alright? I feel amazing right now, but you're ruining it, kay? It's my people's martial art style."

"Alright. Hey, when's he supposed to be here?"

"He'll be here, don't worry."

Fyston added his suspicions under his breath, hopefully low enough that nobody would question him as to what he meant. He stood above everybody, and his voice tended to float over their heads when he wasn't speaking loudly or directly to them. It was only a few more minutes before their squadron commander appeared in the doorway, minutes that Fyston spent in peaceful bliss. Without having to dwell on his cousin's death or the other dozens of problems with him right now, Fyston was almost happy enough to break out into laughter. He almost missed Qorbin's arrival completely and was snapped back to the present as he gave the orders to board their fighters.

I wonder what he'll have us do. Surely we're not flying around for nothing.

Fyston walked with a spring in his step more common in inexperienced replacements than veterans and tried to tone his stride down to avoid suspicion. He still had to suppress the urge to run up the ladder and took his time dropping into his fighter. A smile on his face, he ran through the preflight checks. He ensured that all systems were online and that everything was good before activating his repulsorlift engines and exiting the hangar behind his squadron commander.

"Beta flight check in."

OOC:
WC=1,116
AAR: I went over my release and whatnot. I'll probably make an NPC later that's extremely inquisitive and annoying and put him in my flight for future use. Also, for those who don't know, I've gotten NHC permission for a spice arc. This is the first of many stories that will feature me on spice. PM me with questions, too lazy to put the rest of the details here.
FM/PO1 Fy/B-2/S:82 Nightshrike/W:245 Scimitar/ISD Halcyon Warrior/TF:A 2Flt/SFC/VEN/VE [SoA] [=^SUR^=] (CAR)
Shadow-Sword
ComNet n00b
 
Shadow-Sword
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman (LCRW)
 
Post Number:  24
Total Posts:  29
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 23, 2011 11:50:54 PM    View the profile of Shadow-Sword 
Rowds barely payed any attention to the pleasantries he exchanged with Hades. He was obsessed with the beautiful map DeepSix had sent him.

Curse the stupid block on this! All I want is a permeant copy of a map, not top secret information! On the other hand if I try to slice the databank...I don't even want to think about the repercussions. Now what?...wait a sec...if I open the message...then open that...open the message's code...then look for it there...no, no, no. It needs to be there...and...jackpot! Now just copy it...and recompile it...

"Here comes Ryn..." remarked Hades. Sparing a moment for the member who had just walked in, Rowds nodded once and went back to his datapad. It had finally finished the compiling of the map.

Let's try this. I wonder if I can find this hanger? Just have to type it in, and...it works!

"-I like her." Hades finished. Rowds raised an eyebrow at the sentence. He was probably taking the sentence out of context, but it didn't bother him that much. It didn't concern him, and he'd know what Hades had meant soon enough.

"Hey guys, any sign of the Commander yet?" Ryn asked, looking around in case she had missed the squadron commanding officer. Hades and Rowds both shook their heads

Almost as if it were on que, Chief Warrant Officer Seth Qorbin, the squadron's omnipotent god, walked into the hanger, to many salutes, some formal and some casual. Rowds himself made the salute a crisp, formal one, but he saw that Hades' was more of a laid back, casual salute.

"For those of you that don't know me - name's Seth Qorbin, I'm the 82nd squadron's CO and as such the guy in charge of you lot. I follow an open door policy, I don't particularly care about protocol and I expect each of you to follow my orders to the letter when flying out there. But that should be enough about me for the time being. Get in your assigned fighters and follow me outside." He put a slight break in his horribly toned and anti-climatic speech. "Move it, Shrikes!"

Treating it as an order, Rowds turned sharply on his right heel and briskly walked to a TIE/In sitting in the second column, forth row. B-4, the position he was assigned to.

In the approximately thirty seconds he had before he reached the TIE/In, he slipped the helmet on, and gave a final check to the air-tight seals on the flight suit.

He scaled on the side of his (technically the Vast Empire's, but...) TIE/In. Preparing to get in, he saw Ryn getting in ahead of him.

After a moment of thought, he said loud enough for her to hear, "See you out there. I'll be right behind you."

Without waiting for her reply, he jumped into the cockpit.

Let me see. Repulsorlifts, engines, and controls.

He flicked the repulsorlifts on and, convinced they were working, flicked them off. Seeing nobody behind him, he decided that the normal small check for the engines could be replaced with a quick blast on full. It, probably, wouldn't be enough to move the TIE/In. He fired the engines to full for less than a second, then flicked them off. He then ran diagnostics for the controls, which reported no problems.

"Beta flight check in."

Along with the various other Beta reports, Rowds inserted his own. "Beta-Four, preflight complete, just waiting for the traffic to clear ahead of me."

Rowds closely followed Ryn out of the hanger. In fact, it was probably a bit too close, but he didn't care that much.

Relaxing up a bit, he pulled higher and to the right of Ryn, so he'd be able to cover his wingmate in whatever was planned.
OOC:
WC:628. AAR: Rowds manages to get his hands on a permanent map of the Atrus. After being slightly disappointed in DeepSix's speech, Rowds completes all checks, and pulls out of the hanger, high and right of Ryn.
FM/LCW Shadow-Sword/B-4/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/ISD Iron Duke/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE (=TG=)

Slicing
[This message has been edited by Shadow-Sword (edited December 24, 2011 10:34:20 AM)]
DeepSix
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DeepSix
 
[VE-DJO] Journeyman
[VE-ICS] Pirate Swabbie
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer (CWO)
 
Post Number:  328
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
December 27, 2011 7:59:40 AM    View the profile of DeepSix 
The Nightshrike commander didn't pay much attention to the many blips and beeps that popped up after the man powered up his sleek starfighter. Instead the CWO merely checked his power levels and briefly glanced over the essential systems - engines, shields, weapons and comm. Engine sensors reported no clogs or other anomalies; shield generator appeared to be operational given the bluish hue that quickly enveloped the fighter once Qorbin activated it; lasers were also fully charged and a full complement of four missiles appeared to have been provided as well; Seth's final check was the comm system which the blond human switched on, almost immediately being able to hear globally transmitted updates from the other squadrons in the field.

Satisfied with the results Seth decided to keep things simple and not bother with the other non-essential systems. After all for better or for worse the small vessel seemed to be in flying condition and at that point that was really all Qorbin needed - to just fly the heck out, fly into the vast universe out there, which was about the only place where he could feel truly free - liberated of all worries, responsibilities and other headaches.

The Onderonian signaled Control that he and his squadron were ready to depart and within seconds an operator's confirmation came back. That was all Seth needed to activate his repulsors and push the yoke forward, increasingly adding more power to the engines up until the point he was able to shoot out of the huge capital ship's hangar like a dart. A really tiny dart - one that hopefully wouldn't hit anything out there...

The rest of the squadron followed close behind, one fighter in particular a little too close, almost as if the pilot in question was trying to overthrow the current leader and take charge. The pilot flying as Alpha-2, fellow with the "Hades" callsign must've realized his mistake however as he quickly slowed down and fell behind and back into formation. Seth didn't think much of this small incident, merely assuming the fellow was a little too eager. Now whether that trait actually applied or not, and whether it was a good thing or a bad thing - that the CWO would need to observe Hades for a while longer.

"The latest battle of Belgaroth... or as I heard it informally being called by a few crewmen earlier - the Carnage of Belgaroth", Qorbin switched to the squadron channel and began speaking in a calm, monotonous yet clear enough voice. "Those of you who've fought in it know all about it already. Those of you that weren't here however, here's history lesson number one: less than a couple of weeks ago our forces in this system were simultaneously invaded and attacked by both the Imperial Remnant and the New Republic."

"The two enemy factions arrived around the same time and immediately upon arrival deployed fighter and bomber complements, allowing them not only to draw first blood but draw it hard as well. Of the initial patrolling squadrons we had at the time, only 18% of the pilots survived the fighting. Eighteen percent, meaning less than one in five pilots is still around to talk about that chaos today. The morale of this lesson? Proper plans can be deadly, surprise attacks can be most efficient and ambushes can be brutally effective. Every major battle usually has a few key moments in it, moments during which an event or a series of events can seal or on the contrary turn around the fate of those participating. Sometimes even lone starfighter pilots are enough to cause such events..."

Whilst casually delivering his monologue DeepSix never stopped flying, leading his squadron closer and closer to the Belgaroth Shipyards, which looked pretty banged up still, though not nearly as bad as the ships docked with it looked. Why some of those capital ships looked like they could blow up and disintegrate at any moment. It would've hardly surprised Qorbin if a couple of well placed torpedoes would end up causing a huge chain reaction, one capable of taking apart half the Vast Empire forces still stationed nearby.

"The Belgaroth Shipyards - the prize of the last battle here. I've personally got no idea who built them, who captured them first and who has what other claims to them. Frankly none of that is important, certainly not to regular pilots like you or me. A brief lesson in politics though: if you can take something then do so and if you can keep something then that's kriffing yours and that's that... until such a time that the previously mentioned cycle repeats itself - which alas is inevitable. But no point getting philosophical here", Seth realized and decided to drop the subject, instead turning his fighter towards some of the larger husks of steel still floating motionless in space. It would no doubt take a while for the Vast Empire to salvage, recycle and finally clean the whole place up...

"We went through history and politics so how about mathematics next?" Seth asked and a few squadron members were heard groaning and sighing loudly through the comm system. "I hear you... I'll keep it brief though - one station, a few dozen ships, a few more dozen stationary defenses and a couple of hundred fighters and bombers. That was more or less the extent of our security forces for this system during the previous battle. Three to four times more ships and about a thousand or so fighters and bombers - that's more or less how the combined might of the Remnant and the Republic looked like."

Seth's upper lip twitched slightly as the human remembered actually seeing and fighting against those two forces. "By most calculations we should've lost that battle. Odds were only a handful of survivors would return to Vast Empire space, a handful more would end up spending their remaining lives in detention camps and a whole lot more would become just names posted on the HoloNet - an endless list of names with ranks, assignments and an ominous KIA designation following each and every one of them. That's how things could've been", the CWO grew silent and allowed a sufficiently large pause for dramatic effect before continuing:

"That's not however what did happen, is it? Which brings me to the morale of this lesson - never trust numbers alone. It's just like playing sabacc - you never count the credits in the pot until after you've earned them. You never, ever, give up hope until the very last card is shown." The Onderonian male certainly knew what he was talking about in regards to sabacc - he couldn't remember how many times he was lucky enough to steal victory from under everyone else's noses. He couldn't really remember how many times others managed to snatch his own victory as well but then again he didn't really want to remember those times anyway...

"Any questions thus far?" DeepSix asked as he slowly maneuvered his craft through small debris fields, making sure both he and the rest of his squadron would get a really good look at the aftermath of that which certain members called the Carnage of Belgaroth - large scorched pieces of durasteel floating around, small fighters that were almost intact, save for a couple of larger holes that proved very much fatal for their former pilots. Speaking of former pilots, there were still occasional black or orange silhouettes that could be discerned through the darkness of space. Eventually all the corpses would be retrieved and disposed of in a proper way but that was hardly a priority for the Vast Empire brass. The top dogs running this mess had so many bigger issues to deal with for the time being...

OOC:
AAR: A few lessons for everyone. A few more will follow next round, and those will be a tad more interesting, at least as far as pilots should be concerned.

SC/CWO DeepSix/A-1/S:82 Nightshrike/W:13 Sabre/SSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE [=*TG*=]

TRN/JRN DeepSix/DJO/Training Sect/VEDJ
Van
ComNet Novice
 
Van
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman (LCRW)
 
Post Number:  49
Total Posts:  49
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  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
January 25, 2012 8:14:10 PM    View the profile of Van 
Nis’o gazed out the window of the transport vessel that was carrying him to his unit. He had just graduated from flight school and was assigned to be Alpha-3 on the Nightshrike squadron of the Vast Empire. He knew no one onboard the transport and kept mainly to himself. Being a Wookie pilot was uncommon, and it definitely drew some attention to him. One of the main reasons that people stared was not because he was a Wookie but because he was an abnormally sized Wookie. The biggest cause for his stares is that he would mutter under his breath. No one but he knew what was being said,

“Go on talk to someone Nis’o it will be good for us.”

“I wish not to speak to anyone; they stare and make me feel uncomfortable.”

“Then scare someone that always brings a laugh for us don’t it.”

Nis’o growled a little louder at the voice, “No now go away I want to make good impressions of myself when we get to the ISD I wish not to speak to you for at least that long, do you understand.”

“Understand? Of course I understand Nis’o, we are one after all, and you seem to be angry at me for some reason, why?”
No answer.

“NIS’OOOOO common don’t leave us hanging here, let’s talk, common it will help us pass the time.”

Nis’o ignored the voice again and fell asleep. It would be a little while before the ship would land in the ISD where he would begin his like as a member of the Nightshrikes.

As he slept he could only relive the nightmare that had been more than half of his life so far.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


A large and burly Wookie approached Nis’o,” Who are you that dare enter this village?”

Nis’o replies, “Know you not me, I am Nis’o taken long ago and forced into underground slavery. I have finally returned to start my life anew.”

The large Wookie rolled his eyes and then grabbed one of his Ryyk Blades’ hilts, “ You are tainted, you have come home only to find us hostile to you as if you were a different species all together, listen to your voice, there is the faintest of human influence on even that. Your clothes reek of outsiders and you have lost all the mannerisms of our kind. You will not live here.”

Nis’o kneeling, “Please I beg you to let me live here. It was my home once just as it is yours now. If you will not let me stay then I am willing to fight for my place here.”

The Wookie Chief grabbed his garbs and tore them off, exposing his naked body,

“Now you are speaking more like a Wookie that came from this village. You there, “He pointed toward a standing male Wookie, “Go and grab this whelp his father’s Ryyk Blades so that he may defend himself.”

The Wookie ran off and in moments was back with two older Ryyk blades that were of an older design than that of the Wookie Chief’s. Nis’o pulled the blades from their sheathes and felt them, he tested and balanced them calculating the ways that he would best be able to strike with the blades. He gripped the hilts firmly and was prepared, even though he spent his life as a slave he did manage to pick up some fighting techniques as well as the fact that all Wookies were adept fighters.

The Wookie Chief gave little time for Nis’o to prepare and charged almost as soon as Nis’o had put a firm grip on the hilts. He slammed his largest Ryyk blade down where Nis’o was just standing moments before. And then the fight truly was on. Nis’o had the speed on his side while the Wookie Chief had strength. Their blades kept clanging back and forth as they would one moment give way and the next moment attack. It was a battle that went back and forth for some time. The Wookies that had gathered around to see the fight chanted and chided Nis’o as they knew their Chief would get the better of him. The fight began to reach its climax as they both found themselves trading lacerations on opposite upper biceps. Nis’o winced at the pain for only a moment as the Chief charged yet again. This began the end of the fight. Nis’o was losing ground fast and he was unable to keep up with the endurance that the older Chief had attained over the years. Nis’o backing up as the volleys of sword attacks pelted him from all sides.

The next minutes were sudden and had taken Nis’o completely by surprise, the Chief used his Ryyk blades to cut tendons in Nis’o’s arms and legs. Nis’o’s arms went limp and they bled vigorously, he fell to his knees as he could no longer stand. The chief grabbed Nis’o by the chest and using the edge of a Ryyk Blade he carved a crescent right above Nis’o’s left eye marking him as outcast. Nis’o did not cry out in pain, he wouldn’t give the chief the pleasure of hearing his shrieks. He winced in agony and when the deed was done the chief threw Nis’o to the ground. Nis’o was blacking out the last thing that he saw were his father’s Ryyk blades being broken in two by the Chief. The Blades were tough so it took a moment for the chief to find leverage with which to break the blades. When he found two trees only inches apart the chief slid the blades in between the trees and pulled hard on the hilts. The resounding snap kept repeating itself in Nis’o’s head as he fell unconscious…


Nis’o woke to hearing the vessel announcing their approach on the ISD Atrus. When gazing out of the window he found that he was not looking at space but a large grey hulking mass that dominated the entire view of the window. He knew this would be much different than anything he had ever seen in his life before.

When they finally landed he was the last to get off of the transport vessel and was approached by an officer. He fumbled around for some medicine that was meant to calm his nerves and anxiety, as well as keep his voice quiet for some time. He managed to get the fast acting drug inside of his mouth before the officer, who was just pulled aside for a moment, managed to reach him.

“You must be the late recruit, Crewman Nisc’o’detmun”

“Uh… it’s Nis’o for short.”

Nis’o replied, for anyone that did not know Shiriwook which was Nis’o’s native tongue they would have heard noises like a high pitched growl. The officer looked at him with determined eyes, almost like a stare down. Then when he sized up Nis’o he said,

“Very well Crewman Nis’o the barracks are this way if you’ll follow me. Also when we arrive at the barracks I will ask that you immediately get into your pilot suit, and once again follow me.”

The man was direct with his speaking and spoke with an authority of a commander. When they reached the barracks the officer directed Nis’o to an empty bunk, and then left giving Nis’o a chance to suit up. When he finished he looked somewhat awkward and made a note to make sure to get a more suitable pilot suit that would fit him well and make him look good. He left the room with his helmet in the crook of his arm and met the officer in the corridor.

“Ready?”

“Ready Sir”

They walked at a brisk pace to the hangar D5-32 where his squadron had left about an hour before. The officer briefed Nis’o then and there.

“Alright Crewman, here is what you need to do. You have been issued a TIE Interceptor for use in the navy and are already behind schedule. We have just radioed your SCO telling him that you have arrived and that we are sending you out to meet him. He is a hard man so make a good impression of yourself to him. Don’t get worked up and just follow the radar to where they are conducting your SCO’s flight run. Now get in your cockpit and make sure everything is set to your preferences.”

Nis’o placed his helmet on as he arrived at his Alpha-3 fighter and made sure that his air was sealed. Then he entered the cockpit making sure to watch his head as he went in do to his height. He went through his pre-flight rituals and then gave the signal that he was launching out. With any luck he would meet up with his flight within a small span of time if he went full throttle to the station. As he came upon the area that he was to meet his SCO and the rest of the squadron he found that he was in the midst of a ship graveyard. Bodies, wreckage and debris floated in the space around him. He zoned out for a moment only to realize that he was about to hit the broadside of a destroyed capital ship. He pulled up hard and when he made it to the other side he saw his squadron. Flipping on the radio he sent out a signal to his SCO,

“This is Nis’o, Alpha-3 reporting in sir. Sorry to be late but my transport went slower than what was hoped.”

He gained onto the group and fell into formation waiting for reply.


OOC:
1602 words
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FM/CRW Nis'o/A-3/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/ISD Iron Duke/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE

"Teamwork, Togetherness, Brotherhood. These are the foundations with which we must base ourselves." -Nis'o

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hades
ComNet Novice
 
Hades
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman (SCRW)
 
Post Number:  78
Total Posts:  1245
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Status:  Offline
  RE: Nightshrike: Bones and junk and darkness too
February 6, 2012 3:49:09 AM    View the profile of Hades 
Watching the shipyards come ever closer, Hades grimaced. They looked pretty banged up alright, and he could already see carcasses of ships left abandoned after the battle, some with gaping holes in them, others with wings missing.. the list went on and as they got closer in to the shipyards, they began to see more and more wreckage. 18% Hades thought, The other guys weren't exaggerating, then. He bit his lip as he listened, enthralled in Deep's 'lesson.'

Hades was listening carefully to Deep - the chunks of wreckage they saw on their flight were a chilling reminder of how hard the Vast Empire had to fight in the battle of Belgaroth, and the costs thereof. Of course, Hades hadn't been in the Vast Empire yet. Hades heard Deep mention something of mathematics, and he sighed to himself but listened obediently, all the time keeping his fighter in formation with the rest of Nightshrike.

He missed the battle by a short period of time - in some ways he was disappointed, but seeing the losses inflicted, he was also glad he wasn't here.He had only smoked around half a dozen X-wings in his short career, and there was wreckage here of some of the Vast Empire's finest aces, not to mention countless rookies. The VE had been severely outnumbered, Deep had said.

Never trust numbers alone. Hades smiled. It reminded him somewhat of his former mentor and friend, an ex-stormtrooper he'd met back on Nar Shadda. He too had been a sabacc player and had always insisted Hades not count only on the numbers. Now Deep was saying the same thing, and Hades understood it more than ever.

Hades was snapped out of his musings by his proximity warning - contact approaching from the rear, looked like a TIE fighter... He thought about turning and confronting the incoming TIE, but the sensors registered it as Vast Empire SC.. Callsign "Nis'o". Ah, Hades thought, The new guy. He heard the SCO acknowledge Nis'o's presence, and Hades remained silent.

"Any questions thus far?" DeepSix's voice came over the comm, to which Hades clicked on his comm. He hesitated, and clicked it off again. "Yes, Hades?" Deep asked, noticing the click and knowing it came from Hades.

"I know it's propaganda and what-not, protocol would be to make the Vast Empire look as good as possible." Hades paused, taking in a breath. "But even so, I don't see how the brass can, without mens rea, make the Vast Empire look so good when we're getting attacked on our turf.. or at least how we were caught unawares by enemies that were supposedly no match for the Empire. Granted, Vast Empire prevailed in that battle.. but only by a narrow margin."

Hades grimaced - he sounded like an impertinent, arrogant rookie questioning the status quo without base for his curiousity. But that's just how Hades was, and if he got in trouble for it, there was little he could do about it. It was in his nature to question anything he found even the slightest untruth in. One day it would get him into strife, but hopefully not today.

While waiting for his reply, Hades' began to ping the wreckage.. he began to see flight suited bodies floating past the squadron, near the wreckage. This place needs a good clean up, Hades mused. But, like DeepSix had thought before him, he doubted it was high on the NHC's priority list. They'd just have to make do until it became such.

OOC:
Word Count: 601. Hades is back!

AAR: Hades listens and learns from Deep's lecture, notices Nis'o come in late and questions the propaganda 'powers that be'

Senior Crewman Demetrius "Hades" Aita, Nightshrike Squadron

FM/SCW "Hades"/A-2/S:82 "Nightshrike"/W:245 "Scimitar"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SC/VEN/VE
(=SWC=)
[XMA][AFM][INF]


"Your generic TIE grunt is just plain suicidal. And the TIE Defender jockey is bloodthirsty. But the TIE Interceptor pilot, he's suicidal and bloodthirsty. When you see a squad of those maniacs flying your way, you'd better hope your hyperdrive is operational."
-Kyle Katarn
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