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ComNet > Imperial Navy > Archived Naval Story Board > Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
 
 
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Topic:  Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
Trevor Evenson
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Trevor Evenson
 
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[VE-NAVY] 1st Lieutenant
 
Post Number:  762
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  Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 13, 2008 5:12:04 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
Nazgul Squadron had just arrived onboard the Atrus when they were corralled into a briefing room alongside Viper Squadron. Trevor and Rogue had been given a rumored briefing when they had gotten on board the ship that had arrived at Yamar to take them home, and slept for the rest of the trip. Wide-awake now, the two pilots lead their squadron in and sat down in one of the front rows. Darkhawk began the briefing and Trevor and his squadron nodded along, occasionally scribbling down a note on the details or something or other. When Darkhawk mentioned Task Force Alpha, Trevor’s head swiveled to the back to get a look at the new captains. He spotted Arturus without difficulty, then Will, another pilot he didn’t recognize, and then something that shocked him. Toks was sitting at the back of the room with her hand up like the rest of the captains, and Trevor felt a wave of frustration go through him.

She never told me about the promotion at all when I was gone. Hell, I was gone for maybe a week, something like this can’t just be plain old promotions. He thought to himself angrily as he turned back around, avoiding the smile she had given him when their eyes met. He quit paying attention to the briefing and let his suspicions run rampant as Darkhawk talked in front of him. You’d think she’d have at least sent me a message, or something. Well..Maybe she wanted to tell me in person though, and thought she’d have time before the briefing. I don’t know. He continued to himself, his brow furrowing and eyes glaring at the holo projector. Finally the briefing finished and the groups of people began to file out.

“Nazgul Squadron.” Trevor spoke up, getting the attention of his pilots. “We’re all going to meet up in our rec room and discuss various aspects of the mission that we should be prepared for. Make sure you have your key-cards, the door will be locked.” Trevor finished, and then swiftly stepped out the door when he spotted Tokijin excusing herself through a crowd of Vipers in an attempt to talk to him. He loved her to death and would be willing to die if it meant saving her life, but at the moment he didn’t want to talk to her. He shouldered his way past Max and mumbled an apology, then strode off quickly towards the Nazgul rec room. When he arrived at the door he swung it open and then closed it sharply behind him, turning to face the lock panel as he did so. He quickly set a list of names who’s key-cards would allow them into the room and then began clearing the pool table of the balls to make a planning table.

When he was finished that he had calmed down slightly and his pace had slowed a little bit. He was pulling some blueprints off of a shelf when Rogue let himself through the door, followed by Max and someone Trevor didn’t recognize. She was moderately tall although he still had the height advantage, and her green eyes and red hair were something different.

“Who’s she?” Trevor asked, looking at Max and Rogue to explain, not looking for an answer from the woman whom he assumed would be a new pilot. She stepped forward though and brought a hand up in a salute, which Trevor returned.

“Sanjii Taban reporting for duty. I’ve been assigned to Nazgul Squadron. Tried to get your attention back in the briefing room but you seemed to be in a rush to get out of there.” She said, lowering her saluting arm and putting her hands in her pockets. Trevor nodded and thought for a moment.

“Did they tell you where you were going to be flying in the squadron?”

“No sir, they just told me to report to you and you’d be able to fill me in further.” She replied, shrugging as she did so. Trevor nodded again and glanced at Max and Rogue.

“Well, I’m going to put you in Nazgul Four’s spot, so you’ll be flying in my flight. I hope to see how well you fly. Now, you guys can feel free to take a seat while we wait for everyone else to show up. He spread the blueprints of a ship similar to Riel’s on the pool table and began to talk quietly with Rogue about it while the other pilots slowly began to file into the room. He looked up at one point and spotted Lamel Evas, a former Nazgul pilot who had recently be reinstated back to duty. Trevor nodded to Rogue who went over and introduce himself, also informing Lamel that she’d be flying in Max’s squadron as Nazgul 10. For the first time in quite a while Nazgul would have full ranks. Rogue returned to the table and the two pilots glanced around the room, making sure everyone was there.

“Ok, everyone, if we could have you gather around the table. We’re going to take a look at the general layout of Riel’s ship, come up with out entrance and exit strategies, and anything else we need to know along the way.” Rogue said, waving his hand and gesturing at the blueprints on the table. Once everyone had gathered Trevor pointed at a spot on the blueprints.

“This is the hanger. We’re going to land in here like Darkhark said, and just like he said we’ll most likely be under fire from inside and outside the hanger as we do so. This means that weaponry will be a must for everyone in the squadron. If you don’t have your own weapons, let me know and we can arrange something for you from the armoury.” Trevor looked around as if to open the floor to anyone without his or her own weaponry, but no one said anything. “Ok. After we clear the hanger, if we clear the hanger, it’s a matter of clearing our way to the bridge, uploading the data and then making our way to the engine room.”

“Now, as you can see, there is a main corridor here,” Rogue took over, pointing at the blueprints and tracing his finger down them. “That would take us from the hanger to the bridge with only one lift and a staircase involved. Although this is our fastest route, it is probably also the most heavily guarded.” Rogue explained, now tracing his finger down a different passageway. “This is a service corridor that leads from the hanger to the bridge. It’s a bit longer and covers a few more levels of the ship, but at the same time it is less likely to be as heavily guarded.

“Once we have to get to the engine room though, we have no choice but to take the primary corridor. Of all the places you’d think they’d have a service passageway, they don’t have one that leads to the engine room. That means that they’re going to know where we are headed and most likely send as many people as they can to the engine room to head us off.” Rogue continued, a slight bit of disappointment in his voice. No one said anything until Sanjii raised her hand slightly. Rogue didn’t notice at first but Trevor acknowledged her with a nod.

“Yes Sanjii?”

“Well, we might not be able to take a foot passage to the engine room, but look.” She said, pointing down at the blueprints and running her finger along an airshaft. “According to the blueprints that shaft is three feet square, which is more then enough for us to crawl through. It leads right from the bridge to the engine room, and because it doesn’t change levels at all it means it’s probably much quicker too.”

Trevor glanced at Rogue and grinned. The two had thought about the shafts but decided that they’d see if someone else pointed it out to them. “Very good, Sanjii.” Trevor said, the young woman’s lips curving into a smile at the compliment from her commander. “We’ve got a shaft that takes us right to the engine room, the only problem being that it exits on the roof of a fifty foot tall room. We’re going to have to use ropes to lower ourselves in, and we’ll need to send people with good upper body strength who’ll be able to pull themselves back up once they set the explosives. Any volunteers?”

At first no one raised their hands, then Trevor saw Jeg put his up, followed by Crimson Phoenix. Trevor nodded and looked back down at the blueprints. “Actually, on second thought, rather then having you guys climb back up, it’ll probably just be faster for you to fight your way down this other corridor and directly into the hanger. Because of that, all of Flight One will go and set explosives at the same time as Flight Two tries to upload the information out of the ship’s computer. Flight three will stay back and secure the hanger and our ships.” Trevor said, pointing at the various rooms as he spoke. Everyone nodded in understanding and Trevor grinned. It’s glad to have a group of people willing to do what they are told.

“Also!” Rogue said loudly, holding a hand up in the air. “If anyone needs any sort of special equipment, let us know. We’ve got to let the armoury know we need the explosives and ropes and other various equipment, so we might as well get anything else we need.” No one made any immediate moves at the chance for some fancy new weapons, but Trevor didn’t blame them. Sometimes one felt much more confident with their own blaster pistol then they would with some state-of-the-art blaster rifle.

“Ok, well, if we’ve got no more questions, I officially dismiss this strategy session and invite you all to relax a little. There are drinks in the fridge and plenty of things to do, so lets get some fun out of the way before it’s time for work.” Trevor said with a laugh, the rest of the squadron smiling or laughing with him and spreading out to chat or do whatever pleased them. The pool table was soon cleared and a small game started on it, while another group of people booted up a video game and began playing on the holo vision. Trevor and Rogue had taken over the pool table and were playing fairly quietly, having a quiet discussion about the events unfolding.

“Hey, how come you were in such a rush to get out of the briefing room anyway? Tokijin grabbed my arm before I left and asked if you were feeling sick or something to be out of there in such a hurry. I didn’t know, so I told her you were probably just on your way to set up the strategy session.” Rogue said, watching Trevor sink one of the balls and miss his following shot.

“I wasn’t too excited to talk to her right yet, she never mentioned to me that she had been promoted.” Trevor said, keeping his emotions stable and not letting himself begin to rant. “I figured she would have at least messaged me.”

“Well, maybe she wanted to tell you in person when you got back and thought there’d be time before the briefing?” Rogue suggested as he potted three balls in a row before missing. Trevor shrugged and began to line up his next shot.

“I thought of that, and I guess that could be it, I mean, you never know. Either way, I’ll see her when I head back to our quarters so yeah. Unless, of course, she’s being shuttled over to her ship now. You’d think they’d leave for their ships about the same time as we do though, because if I got the drift right they are supposed to show up shortly after us?” Trevor said, somewhat unsure of how that whole part of things was going to work.

“No clue, you’d have to ask Darkhawk. So how’s that going to be, having to spend the nights in your own bed alone for a while now, unless we get assigned to her ship or something. Are you going to be lonely?” Rogue joked, causing Trevor to miss his shot by a mile. He shook his head and laughed, then looked up at Rogue.

“Shut up.” Trevor replied, both pilots chuckling.
SC/1LT/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC][EoT:EC][LoT]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06
Still the VEN's #1 writer as of ESC `07

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Lamel_Evas
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Lamel_Evas
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 13, 2008 10:15:03 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
Lamel sat there in her seat and rose as they left, They saw her and passed by her as if paying no heed to her silent call. She looked up at the people there and too walked out of the room saluting each officer on the way out. She mouthed a word to trevor sort of like. "Am i gonna be ok?" Lamel was unsure of herself as she was still scared of everything but was getting used to the people here at the squadron.

she glaned around the other room before walking to her bunk she smiled as she thought to herself Maybe things will turn out better than they are in my mind, i want peace of mind she thought as she flipped on her C3pod and listened to the music as she shut her eyes. Lamel had dreamed of her past for a very long time. tonight she thought would be her last night of nightmares
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
Rogue
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Rogue
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 14, 2008 8:50:17 PM    View the profile of Rogue 
After punking Trevor and beating him at pool yet again, and some discussions on what they needed, Rogue left the Ready Room bearing a shopping list.

He headed for the armory the squadron had access to, hoping it was full. Otherwise he would have to put in an emergency run to ICS.  Once he reached the armory, he had to provide his ID code twice before he was granted access. Inside, an enlisted crewman followed him with a datapad, noting down what he wanted to draw.

“Let's see. We'll be fighting aboard a ship, so any sort of rocket launcher is out, as are acid or plasma weapons. Disruptor weapons and solid slug throwers are out too since they could pierce the hull. But flechettes shouldn't.” Rogue thought out loud.

The crewman remained silent, just waiting for Rogue to tell him what he wanted.

“Blasters are always an option, but a flame thrower might work if we get pinned down in a corridor.” Rogue continued to think out loud.

“So for a start put us down for 6 of the FC-1 flechette launchers and four F3C flame carbines.” Rogue ordered as he continued on.  “Put 6 of the Stormtrooper Two carbines on there as well. And 4 DC-17's if we have any left.”

“Yes sir” the crewman replied as he typed.

“We need a few heavier weapons as well. Put two light repeating blasters in and two ESPO grenade launchers.” Rogue ordered.

“Yes sir.” replied the crewman.

“And don't forget plenty of extra power packs, flame and flechette canisters, and spare grenades for the launchers, mixed variety. But no armor piercing.” Rogue ordered.

“Yes sir” came the reply for the third time.

Rogue moved over to another room in the armory, this one where the explosives were stored.

“Start with enough flashbangs for the entire squadron, 3 per person, so a total of 36.” Rogue ordered. “Actually make it a full case of the flashbangs. Then add  half a case of the CC-457 gas grenades.”

“Yes sir” the crewman replied for the fourth time.

“Also include a case of the Mk 37 Mod 9 concussion grenades. And a case of 7-PrG proton grenades. We can use those to finish off the target.”  Rogue ordered as well. “We will also need half a dozen satchel charges of plastic/chemical explosives.”

“Yes sir.” came the same flat reply for the five time.

“That looks to be everything. Put it in all in carrying cases and send it down to the hangar.” Rogue ordered as they walked back to the counter next to the door.

“Authorization sir?” the crewman asked as he passed over the pad.

Rogue keyed in his codes, and hit enter. The computer with automatcially bounce to Riel as the Atrus' captain, but in this special case, DH would be the one granting permission. But Rogue already knew the authorization would come back cleared. They were on a time table after all.  Finally the computer beeped granting the authorization.

“The weapons will be packed and delivered to the hangar of your squadron's transport.” the crewman explained.

“Thank you.” Rogue replied before leaving the armory.

His next stop was general equipment. He had the crewmen on duty start drawing the equipment he needed. First was 12 lengths of fiber cord, capable of supporting the weight of two people and their gear, cut long enough for all of them to reach from floor to ceiling of the corvette's engine room. Next was new comlinks for the entire squadron, and a backpack set to keep in touch with the fleet. 

Most of the squadron had their own armor already, like Rogue himself would be wearing a set of storm commando armor he already had, from acquiring on another mission. But he had them put in several sets of basic body armor just in case anyone needed it. They would all be wearing flight helmets going in, so helmets weren't needed. Not that most helmets did any good against blasters anyway.

He had then send it all down to the hangar of the squadron's transport, just like the weapons, then headed back up to the Ready Room. His personal gear was already in his pilot bag ready to go.

Let's see, my DL-44's are in there of course, Scout holdout blaster in one boot and knife in the other. With the rifles I drew, no need to bring my Stormtrooper Two's.  Could bring the A280, but its designed to pierce armor, stay shot might pierce the hull, so it stays behind.  I just grab one of the FC-1's and a 'trooper Two or a F3C from the armory weapons.
XO/FL/2LT Rogue/Nazgul 2-5/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE / [MC1][VC:B][SWC](LoT)
Lamel_Evas
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Lamel_Evas
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 14, 2008 10:18:55 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
Lamel was awake as suddenly as she fell asleep, She sat up straight in bed and swung her legs out and raised her head but it smashed against the bar, She cursed loudly as she stood rubbing her head and taking the earpieces out of her ears and set them in her pocket she unclipped her C3pod and sat that in her pocket. She wandered out to the hallway and smiled seeing a familiar person over there, She giggled and yelled out "Hello there!" She caught up with rogue and smiled for he was the one she told her troubles to.

Lamel thought to herself Why can't i do something to make my flashbacks and dreams go away? She had a worried look on her face for in her eyes was a look of pain for she had bumped her head just now. She headed to the seating area and sat there rubbing her head in pain. "owwie owwie" She had followed him to the armory and peeked inside the door at first but as her headache increased there was left to her no choice but to sit on a chair with her head in her hands.
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
Max Fagron
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Max Fagron
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 15, 2008 4:00:09 PM    View the profile of Max Fagron 
Max finished his press-up routine, before leaving his dorm room. He flexed, relishing the thought of a close-quarters mission. His martial arts would come in handy here. He practiced sweeps while moving towards the cantina. He picked up an orange and then storde to the window, gazing out at the emptiness of space. He had begun to peel the thick skin from the fruit when someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see the new pilot he had seen at the briefing. "Sir, I' ve been assigned to your squadron." She stood there awkwardly for  second before handing Max a note. He read it quickly.
   
      "So, Lamel Evas is it?" He let the name move around in his mouth., as he memorised it. "Well, welcome to Flight Three, Lamel. You understand what Trevor said at the briefing?"

      "Yes Sir." Max took an orange segment, and placed it in his mouth, contemplating his response.

      "Have you named your Interceptor yet Lamel?" The pilot looked suprised for a second.

      "I didn't realise that you had to_"

      "No you don' t have to," replied Max. "But it adds a personal flair to your craft.  A kind of signature mark. Record your kills aswell. It' s a good way to show off." Max finished the orange, and threw the skin in the bin beside them. "Well Lamel, we' ll be meeting up just before the mission, if you have any questions, ask me now, or then." Lamel shook her head.

      "No sir, I'll be okay for the moment."

      "Good," smiled Max. "See ya later." He strode out the door, towards the hangar. A few minutes later, he entered the huge metal room, filled with the noise of machines whirring, electric saws cutting and techies roaring and laughing. He made his way over to his own Interceptor, and ran his hand along the name painted on the left side of the cabin. Hello Hellfire shone back at him, the black and red gloss shimmering in the light. He moved to the right side, where his kill total was painted. He only had three so far, but he hoped to get more on his upcoming sortie. He turned, glanced back at his fighter one more time, and left for the bridge.
FL/PO2 Max Fagron/Nazgul 3-1/Phoenix Wing/Carrier Tiamut/FVIF/VEN/VE(=A=) [MC1]

'Ah,mere Infantary........poor beggars.' Aristotle

"Dulce et Decorum pro Patria Mori"


Beag ach Fíochmhar
Lamel_Evas
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 15, 2008 5:08:32 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
As Lamel went to sit she smiled thinking to herself for the moment. Now what would sister Saalia say to this? she put that thought aside and shut her eyes, Meditating. She'd let her mind slip in the peaceful meditations and suddenly she was back to the present time where she belonged. What happened? Why not clear my mind this time? She thought, something funny was going on and she didn't like it. She smiled as she got up but there was a look of fear in her eyes, When she went to the ship she smiled, thinking to herself

Why not name my ship after my parents? She called out, "I have reached a decision of what to name my ship sir." Max smiled and asked, "What sort of name did you come up with?" Lamel replied, "I decided to name my ship after my parents...The Evas family. Sound like a good idea?" Max smiled, "I like that idea very,very much and i am certain your parents would have liked that from what i have heard you were orphaned at birth as your father ran away, But i think i have found him in an area on Coruscant." Lamel pondered this but would wait after this mission to find her father and sighed, there were very many questions he had had to answer and he had better give them too.
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
Jegora Fal
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Jegora Fal
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 16, 2008 3:28:55 PM    View the profile of Jegora Fal 
Jegora looked around the room. It had seemed like just recently he had been adjusting to life aboard a ship, and now here he was on board a modified Super Star Destroyer. And not just any Super Star Destroyer. He was aboard the Atrus, flagship of the Vast Imperial Fleet.

Sighing he launched himself to his feet as the briefing was adjourned. He followed the rest of his squad to the rec room. He could see several new faces, and some familiar ones. He decided not to socialize, and sat back in one corner, sipping some alcoholic beverage that he didn’t recognize.

It was quite good. As he sipped the drink he watched Rogue and Trevor play pool. Trevor lost, but it was no surprise. Rogue seemed to have many surprising talents. After a while Rogue left, and the pool game broke up. Jegora was left with nothing else to do but read the folder.

Getting up and moving over to the bar he poured himself a new drink. He then wandered back over to his chair, and picked up the folder. The folder was filled with details on the mission, but several things were still classified. There was still enough in the folder to hint at the incredible danger of the mission, and Jegora knew that when the danger code at the top of the page said “High Risk” it was no joke.

Mulling over the prospect of getting shot at, Jegora couldn’t figure out why he had volunteered to go down the hatch. He still wasn’t clear on the details, but he figured there would be lots of getting shot at hiding.

Shaking his head, he studied a page on what weapons they were allowed to carry. He didn’t really feel comfortable using any weapon but his own, and opted to carry his DC-5 pistol onto the ship. It had good damage capabilities, and a virtually unlimited shot capacity. It would be perfect for the interior of a ship.

Jegora grinned to himself as he left the rec room. Most of the squadron was still in the room, but some were missing. Jegora figured that those who had left had gone to see to their weapons and gear, just as he was now. As soon as he left to room, he launched into a light jog.

He took the long way back to his quarters. Of course, he did not know the halls by memory – one would have to be a Jedi or something to accomplish that – but he did have a basic understanding of the layout of this part of the ship. With relative ease he worked up a light sweat.

He just wished the mission was going to be as easy.
Jegora Fal

FM/CPO Jegora Fal/Nazgul 1-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1Flt/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) [MC1] [LoT]

Exitus acta probat
-The ends justify the means
Rogue
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Rogue
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 16, 2008 8:48:20 PM    View the profile of Rogue 
Rogue ducked back into the Ready Room and retrieved his personal “pilot pack”  Normally he carried extra weapons like a pair of Quicksnap 36t carbines and some grenades in there, plus an extra flight suit and various other gear. 

He passed by his quarters and changed into a black flight suit, before pulling his DL-44's out of his pack and strapping them to his legs.  A hold-out blaster like biker scout troopers carried went in one boot and a knife in the other. He double checked what he had in the pack so far. Macrobinoculars, breath mask, med pacs, extra bottles of water, all in addition to the emergency blaster, rations and other items that came in the pack.

He slung the pack over his shoulders and picked up his helmet for its place, tucking it under one arm. Leaving his quarters, he headed for the hangar assigned to the squadron.  Normally they would be shuttled over to the ship taking them to the mission area, but this time was a little different. The first was because their carrier ship was the Strike Cruiser that was Darkhawk's new command, so it didn't have any fighters assigned to it yet.  And the second was because Nazgul had been assigned a new batch of Tie Interceptors. During their last mission, the fighters had been under going repainting and such to the squadron's specifications.

Rogue found his fighter at the front of the four fighters that made up his Two Flight. His fighter's customized color scheme was overall basic black, with a medium to dark green trim, on the wings and cockpit ball. His kills were outlined in the same green on the side of the cockpit ball.  The black made the fighter harder to spot visually against the darkness of space, and the green made it his, without being garish or shouting out “here I am, come kill me.”

He squatted down, and used his free hand to punch in the access code that unlocked the cockpit hatch and raised it to the open position. Carefully he slipped the pack off, and swung it into the cockpit, before dropping it onto his seat. His special open face helmet followed the pack into the cockpit. Once both were in, he hit the close button and sealed the fighter up again. He had the lock specially programmed so that there were two access codes. His personal one and one used by the techs. The computer recorded when the secondary code was used, so he could keeps tabs on someone else getting access to the fighter.

He got to his feet and headed back up toward the Ready Room. They would be launching soon, the 12 Interceptors and a transport of some time, probably an ATR or a DX-9. The transport would carry their extra weapons and gear, and some of their support crew.  Many of the pilots, including Rogue, had become picky who they let work on their fighters, since that work might mean the difference between the pilot coming back or not from that mission.
XO/FL/2LT Rogue/Nazgul 2-5/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE / [MC1][VC:B][SWC](LoT)
Trevor Evenson
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Trevor Evenson
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 16, 2008 11:31:02 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
After losing the pool game Trevor had considered his choices. He was still frustrated with Tokijin and didn’t feel like going right back to the room, but for all he knew she wasn’t even there at the moment. He glanced around the room before making up his mind and striding to the door. It hissed open as he left and closed behind him, sealing him off from the rest of the squadron. The halls were surprisingly busy as he stepped out into the traffic lanes of the hallways, but he was sure that with an admiral gone missing there was a lot more for people to do then normal.

In reality, Riel getting kidnapped didn’t seem to strike any particular chord with Trevor. They had met on more then one occasion but didn’t know each other too well. It wasn’t like the friendship Trevor had with his Wing Commander, Shazam. Trevor got his orders from someone, and whether that someone was Riel or Darkhawk or someone else, he’d still get orders. He wasn’t necessarily sure what the whole navy would do if they were to fail, but he doubted it would affect him directly. He was, after all, just a pilot. He was given a mission and sent out, then came back and got his pay cheque and a pat on the back. Blind service, he referred to it as.

As he neared the hallway his quarters were in, his stomach began twisting inside him. He had reacted poorly to the way he found out about Tokijin’s promotion, and ignored her on top of that. I hope she’s not too mad at me, if she’s even still on board. I still don’t know when the Task Force was to be boarding their ships. Trevor thought to himself uneasily as he approached the door to his quarters and got out his keycard. Wouldn’t that be spectacular. Get all pissed off at her over something completely stupid and end up getting shot in the face aboard Riel’s ship. With my luck.. He thought stubbornly, ending his thought before it got too far as the door opened.

He stepped inside and his stomach did a flip as he spotted Tokijin sitting on the bed, already under the blankets with her knees drawn up and her drawing pad resting against them. She hardly glanced up as he entered, but he had prepared himself for something like that. He gave a small wave and said hi, but she still didn’t look up at him. He nodded and kicked his shoes off near the door, then sat down on the bed near her feet.

“I’m sorry about before.” He began.

*** The Following Morning ***

Trevor’s stuff was in the duffle bag that hung from his shoulder. Although they were going to be flying their fighters across to the Strike Cruiser that Darkhawk was captaining, he hadn’t bothered to put his flight suit on. Instead he was just dressed in a pair of comfortable pants and a light t-shirt, covered partially by his fairly worn nerf leather jacket. He had a pair of dark glasses over his eyes and an bit of a cocky grin on his face. It’s a work of art.

He was standing in front of his new Interceptor, a craft he had painted specifically for himself. He remembered hearing stories from friends and family about pirates and mercenary pilots who’d paint their personal fighters in dazzling style or colour in order to indicate their skill. The extraordinary paint on those fighters was a challenge to all takers, Here I am, come give it a shot. He had felt somewhat cocky when he had ordered the paintjob, but looking up at it now he was not disappointed. The craft was painted in a black paint that was inlaid with metallic elements in order to produce a star-like effect as light bounced off it. This would provide him some camouflage against the night sky or out in space, but this advantage was offset by the white faded to blue flames that were etched all over the fighter. The tips of the wings had the design on them, as well as flames that seemed to arc away from the main view port. The tops of the pylons were doused in the same colour, starting at the very front edge and trailing off towards the back.

Unlike some of the other pilots in the squadron, he hadn’t yet chosen a name for his fighter, although he had a few floating around in his mind. He had also left his kill count off the fighter, preferring to add that himself when he got the time. He climbed up the ladder that lead to the catwalks, allowing access to the hatches of the fighters while they hung in their docking claws. He made his way along the catwalks to his own and popped the hatch open. He left his duffle bag on the catwalk and carefully lowered himself into the seat, admiring the new feel, look and smell to everything. The seat wasn’t faded or cracked, all the harnesses were in tip-top condition and the buckles didn’t have a scratch on them. Every computer monitor still had a thin film of plastic covering the screen, and everything was just as it should have been. Private fighters that are to be used in a squadron a rare bonus to pilots. We might not have won Captain’s Own or anything, but Viper doesn’t exactly have any of these. He thought to himself with a smirk as he placed his hands on the control yoke and found his hands fit it perfectly.

He climbed back out of the fighter with a smile on his face that was only widened when he saw a few more of his pilots entering the hanger and beginning to mill around the shuttle that was going to take their equipment across to the Strike Cruiser. He took his helmet out of his duffle bag and carefully dropped it into the fighter, aiming right for the seat and hitting it spot on. Next he dropped in his flight gloves and zipped up the duffle bag, heaving it over the edge of the catwalk in the direction of the shuttle. Only after he had released the strap did he realize his data pad and a few other breakables had been inside.

“Ah, shit.” He said aloud as the bag hit the floor with a thud not too far from Lamel. She jumped at the sudden sound and looked up to where Trevor was standing. He gave her a quick wave and got one in return before turning and heading back down the ladder to the ground. He spotted Max and Jeg also standing near the shuttle, their bags on the ground near them, both dressed in their flight suits. Lamel completed the trio in hers as well, all three of them sporting Nazgul patches on the shoulders and breast pockets. “Glad to see you all got the new flight suits. I figured the old ones were getting a bit ratty and had these ones ordered in. Our other ones didn’t have the patch on the pocket either, just the shoulder.”

Jeg glanced at Trevor and then to the other pilots and back to Trevor, frowning. “Yeah, we got ours, but where is yours?”

Trevor glanced down at himself and forced himself to jump, quickly checking behind him over his shoulder and spinning back to face the other three pilots with a look of shock on his face. “I was wearing it a minute ago! Someone must have stolen it right off of me, it looked so damn good.”

“Right. Nice try, sir.” Lamel laughed, picking a stray hair off her suit and glancing around the hanger. “When are we supposed to leave?”

“Not for about another hour yet. Darkhawk said 0600, and we’re sitting pretty at 0504. Everyone else will show up, they’ll start loading the shuttle, we’ll get in the fighters and leave by 6:15.” Trevor said, glancing down at his watch and looking around the hanger to check it to a wall-mounted clock. The other pilots nodded and glanced around as well. “No reason to stand here, might as well go check out your new fighters and get them all pre-checked. I imagine the rest of us will be showing up soon so beating the rush up the ladders would be good.”

OOC:
So here’s the deal. Everyone can kill a post or two by checking out the new fighters, pre-checking them, everything like that. I’m going to see if I can’t get a few more pilots to post, and then we’ll see how things are going with Viper and get coordinated with them.

Note to the Task Force: I’ve made it clear in this post that you guys are headed back to your ships at some point at or around the same time as Nazgul and Viper are leaving the Atrus. Make sure to use that in your story, if you get around to it.
SC/1LT/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC][EoT:EC][LoT]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06
Still the VEN's #1 writer as of ESC `07

Clearly Canadian!
Rustichituk
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Rustichituk
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 17, 2008 2:12:44 AM    View the profile of Rustichituk 
OOC:
Although I'm not actually assigned anywere yet, I'd like to get a post in anyway...I've been waiting and ready for a while.


Rusty swatted at his custom M-TD protocol droid as he made his way up the corridor. The blasted thing had always annoyed him, but it was a necessity, as usually no one could understand him. The droid kept flitting around his shoulders like an oversized fly…

If only I could vocalize properly…

Earlier in the week he had arrived on the Atrus and made contact with Rogue and was waiting for confirmation that he had been accepted (once again) into the Navy. He was a little surprised that they would even still bother with him, as he tended to leave and return as he chose…and without much notice. As was his way.

Rusty was getting impatient with the news of his acceptance and was nosing around. Rogue had dropped the hint that he would be in the Nazgul Squad. That was something new to him. In fact, Rusty checked the Nazgul roster earlier in the day and the only one around that he had known was Rogue. Many of these newer members were also higher in rank than he was.

What? I wasn’t that incompetent, was I? I mean…I wasn’ the most reliable around, but it isn’t like I was a terrible pilot. Are they just handing out promotions these days? Rusty contemplated.

Curiosity always did get the better of him, so here he was making his way up to the recreation room. As he approached the entrance he waited for the door to open automatically, but it wouldn’t budge. He needed a key card to open the door. Rusty peered through the window to see Rogue playing pool and others spending their time doing this and that.

Blast! What is this nonsense? They make me wait to hear about my future while they play billiards?

He pounded on the door with his fist and left in a rage. Rusty looked down at his overly small uniform, his fur was still bursting at the seams and it was spread taught across his belly.

I squeezed into this ratty thing for nothing…

Several Imperial staff members walked past him and snickered at him, as he was rather a comical sight. Rusty snapped at that moment and let out a booming roar down the corridor, and his M-TD immediately flew up from behind him and hovered around Rusty’s chest level and politely remarked to the snickering trio, “I don’t believe you require me to translate that. I’d like to kindly request that you don’t upset him, he does have quite the temper and he likes to take it out on me. Please, for my sake will you just continue on your way?” They were immediately scrambling up the hallway before the little droid could finish his request.

“You know, you really should work on that temper of yours…no wonder the Navy never comes after you when you arbitrarily depart without leaving a trace.” M-TD pointed out while fluttering up to the wookiee’s beady, black eyes.
“Shut up and see if you can help me figure out where Rogue’s dorm is. I need to talk with him.” Rusty growled back while swatting the droid down.
“Sometimes I don’t understand why I stick around you…” the droid retorted.

The wookiee walked away from the rec room and back near his temporary quarters, pacing up and down the hallway leading to its entrance while M-TD asked passing droids about Rogue’s quarters, and after about 30 minutes there was success. Rusty followed the lead of M-TD until they reached a door where higher ranked pilots had rooms.

I see Rogue’s moving up in the world, and I’m always stuck in the same old rut…
He waited until he saw Rogue making his way up the hallway and then nudged his droid to make contact.

“Greetings, Sir.”, M-TD twittered, the hulking mass of Rusty standing behind the hovering robot.
FM/PO2 Rustichituk/Nazgul 3-11/Wing 1 (Phoenix)/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)
Rogue
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Rogue
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 17, 2008 9:26:09 PM    View the profile of Rogue 
Rogue was walking up the corridor, planning to try and get some sleep when he heard what sounded like a droid calling to him. But he ignored it and kept walking, until he heard the bellowing roar that only came from one creature in the galaxy. A Wookiee.

He looked up to see just that standing in the corridor, a hairy furball of a wookiee. But it wasn't just any Wookiee. He recognized the fur color and harness immeadiately. It was his old wingman, Rusty.

"Rusty! What are you doing here?" Rogue asked.

Rusty bellowed his response which the droid he now noticed translated into Basic.

"Hello Rogue. I am back from leave. I have been assigned to Nazgul Squadron." the droid translate.  Rogue knew Rusty hadn't said anything that formal, but that was the droids programming for him.

"Well welcome back. Your just in time. We're departing on a mission in the morning." Rogue explained. "Did they assign you a spot in a certain flight yet?"

More bellowing then, "No. They did not give me a position yet." translated the droid.

"Good. Because I'm in need of a section leader in my flight. So your it. Nazgul 7." Rogue answered.

More bellowing. "Very good. Thank you." translated the droid.

"Ok. Now get down to the hangar and have the techs start modifying your fighter. We just got new, straight from the factory Interceptors, so they are all plain." Rogue said in his command voice.

Bellowing and translating. "I will get the work done right away."

"Ok. Now I need to get some sleep. Meet me in the hangar at 0515." Rogue ordered.

"Yes sir." came the translated response.

"Oh and Rusty, don't forget to have the techs customized the paint job on your fighter. For this mission, we don't exactly want to look like a Navy squadron." Rogue said in his command voice.

Rusty bellowed a response and headed off, while Rogue let himself into his quarters. He kicked the door shut and dogged it, before unstrapping his holsters. He had thought they were leaving tonight, but he had missed understood and the launch had been pushed off until the morning. He crossed over to the closet and opened it and nearly leapt for his blasters on the bed. A new batch of flight suits were in his closet, each bearing the squadron patch on the shoulder and chest.  He let out a groan at the idea of the patch on the chest. The shoulder he could deal with, but not the chest.

He grabbed the new flight suits and headed for the door. He left his quarters and headed for ship's laundry. It took him ten minutes to reach the laundry, where he promptly explained that he needed the flight suits altered. He wanted the patch removed from the chest and put on the other shoulder, opposite from the other patch. That and he wanted them ASAP, like tonight.

He had to pull rank to get it done, but he waited until the personel there got it done. He looked over the work before he accepted it and headed back to his quarters with them. Once there he hung them in the closet, then doffed the one he was wearing. He poured himself a double of corellian whiskey from his private stash. He knocked it back then crawled into his bunk.

Alone again.
XO/FL/2LT Rogue/Nazgul 2-5/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE / [MC1][VC:B][SWC](LoT)
Crimson Phoenix
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 18, 2008 1:03:18 AM    View the profile of Crimson Phoenix 
The starfighter technician raised his eyebrows and told Crimson that he could definitely customize a phoenix on the side of his brand new ship.

"Not many Navy members look to have something so distinct on their own crafts," the technician smirked.

"Well," Crimson replied, "I thought it'd add a nice personal touch. It's kind of my call sign."

"Say no more," the tech responded. "We can have that done immediately."

"Hey, thanks. I really appreciate it," Crimson finished, and headed up to the catwalks of the hangar.

The view of the ships was simply marvelous from up here. Each was glistening in the artificial light, and each in its own respect. It seemed as though the other members of Nazgul had also ordered custom paint jobs for their brand new, life-sized play toys, and Crimson took a moment to pan across the Interceptors. Gazing off in the distance, he spotted one with a cool blue, sort of elliptical design that seemed to dance across the wings. Another one had an interesting geometric design, utilizing vibrant colors, and illustrated clearly on it was a blood-red '4', for which Crimson was sure he knew its meaning. He liked all these interesting designs. It seemed to give their squadron a sense of flare and attitude.

Grinning, Crimson approached his own Interceptor and admired it with the love that only a Navy pilot can give a starship. Surprisingly prompt, he saw that the techs were already at work emblazoning his design.

"You guys sure do start fast!" Crimson called down.

The man he spoke to earlier looked up and saw Crimson on the catwalk above him. "Well, the ships will be heading out soon, but we'll be sure to have it ready for you!'

Crimson nodded. After watching the artists work for a bit, he decided to check out the inside of his ship. He punched in his code into the number pad, and watched the hydraulics slowly lift up and aside the translucent cockpit hatch. Unable to wipe the grin from his face, he lowered himself in and inspected the interior. It had that "new ship" smell that so many pilots were fond of, and Crimson was sure he wouldn't mind breaking in this ship a few times. Astonished at how roomy the cockpit was, Crimson was suddenly struck with the realization that he had forgotten his things. Damnit, I'll have to go back for my bag, he thought to himself. Better check in with Trevor and the others first, though.

Pulling himself out of the craft, Crimson lowered the hatch and sealed it up. He headed back down the ladder of the catwalks and made his way over to the small gathering of Nazzies assembled between some ships, spotting Trevor amongst them.

"Hey Trev, just checking in to let you know I'm here," Crimson started.

"All right, good," Trevor interjected. "We're just waiting on a few more guys, and then we'll start heading out."

He started again. "Erm, okay, but I left my bag back in my room, so I've got to run back and get it."

Trevor looked displeased. "Well, we're shipping off soon, so you better hurry up!" Trevor commanded.

"Got it. I'll be back in no time," said Crimson, and he began walking to the hangar door. On second thought, he decided to start a light jog.
The Crimson Phoenix

"Try not a barrel roll. Do a barrel roll or do not a barrel roll. There is no try a barrel roll." - Masta Yoder

FM/LCRW Crimson Phoenix/Nazgul 2-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE
Rustichituk
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Rustichituk
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 18, 2008 1:45:30 AM    View the profile of Rustichituk 
Rogue approached the hulking wookiee and wore a look of surprise and fatigue, but managed to sound quite jovial.

"Rusty! What are you doing here?" Rogue asked.

"Rogue! I was told I was going to be assigned to Nazgul, but I show up here and there’s nothing. What’s going on!?”, Rusty demanded. After every time he spoke Rusty had to wait for M-TD to translate for him, but the droid had to clean up everything Rusty said, or else he’d most likely be kicked out based on his disrespectful manner of speaking. It was an ongoing process the droid found quite tedious, but bearable. It responded, Hello Rogue. I am back from leave. I have been assigned to Nazgul Squadron.

"Well welcome back. Your just in time. We're departing on a mission in the morning." Rogue explained. "Did they assign you a spot in a certain flight yet?"

“No! I’ve been waiting forever. What gives?!”
No. They did not give me a position yet, translated the droid.

"Good. Because I'm in need of a section leader in my flight. So your it. Nazgul 7." Rogue answered.

“Flying together again? I like the idea of that.”
Very good. Thank you. translated the droid.

"Ok. Now get down to the hangar and have the techs start modifying your fighter. We just got new, straight from the factory Interceptors, so they are all plain." Rogue said in his command voice.

“They better have one that I fit in, I am not going to be crammed into one of those tin cans designed for you humans…”
I will get the work done right away. The droid curtly replied.

"Ok. Now I need to get some sleep. Meet me in the hangar at 0515." Rogue ordered.

“Nighty…”
Yes sir. came the translated response.

"Oh and Rusty, don't forget to have the techs customized the paint job on your fighter. For this mission, we don't exactly want to look like a Navy squadron." Rogue said in his command voice.

“It’s always something…”
M-TD started to translate, but Rusty slapped him and snarled, “Come on, you…I’ve got better things to do than hear your brown nosing.”

As he rushed down to the hangar to get his craft ready, Rusty thought, You know…I can’t believe I’m already getting ready for a mission…I wonder what it’s about?.

He arrived at the hangar and started bellowing at the first technician he saw, who just stared at him, dumbfounded.
“You…I need one of these Interceptor’s done up real nice for me, real snappy too, I’ve got to have it ready by tomorrow.” Pointing over his back at one of the fighters, “And don’t forget to make the cockpit larger, I’m not going to be hunched over or banging my head the entire time.”
M-TD quickly translated, Excuse me, sir. Could you please modify one of these new Interceptors for me. It would be appreciated if you could please complete the modification as quickly as possible, as it will be needed in the mission tomorrow. Also, could you please stretch the cockpit a bit, a wookiee is not quite built to fit inside a normal Interceptor. Thank you, sir.

The technician shook his head to make sure he wasn’t dreaming up the massive hairy beast, and replied, “Excuse me, sir, who may you be? You do have a uniform, but I can’t be certain that you have authorization as it looks like you may have swiped it off of one of our human staff.”

The wookiee roared in anger, “WHAT?! Are you calling me an imposter, a fake, a phony?! Who do you think you are?! How old are you? I probably started training here when you were still a child! And I can't help that I have to wear a standardized uniform made for creatures your size! This is the biggest one they make!”, scoffing, “Run a check for “Nazgul Flight 2, Flight Member 7, you moron…you’ll find your answer there.”
Excuse me sir, but I am a veteran pilot around here. Sorry for the confusion. Please search on your datapad for “Nazgul flight 2, Flight Member 7” and this can be cleared right up.

The technician quickly rifled through his datapad, and to his amazement, an older picture of the wookiee, with a bit better groomed fur, and the name Rustichituk (Rusty) appeared on the screen as well as background information. A warning at the bottom highlighted “Rusty has little patience and is quick to anger. If you are his superior, keep him in check. If you are not his superior, do what he asks or you’ll regret it…guaranteed! :P “

The young techie was quick to reply, “Yes, Sir. Right away, Sir!”

Rusty quickly added, “Kid, don’t forget to paint it either…2 Ryyk blades running down the sides, one each side, blade facing down. Don’t puts around with it, either.”
The hovering droid translated, Also, please pass on to the correct personnel that this Interceptor also must be painted accordingly for the mission, 2 Ryyk blades running down the sides, one each side, blade facing down. Thank you.

“Yes, Sir, of course, Sir.” With that, the techie saluted then rushed off to do what he was asked to. Rusty returned with a lazy salute and made his way back to his temporary quarters. When he arrived there, he noticed a brand new datapad waiting for him on the bed which contained the message:

“Rustichituk,

You have been moved to a dorm located with the rest of the Nazgul Squadron. Currently, you will have your own room until a more appropriate domicile shared with another pilot is arranged.
                                    -VE Navy Staff”
as well as a new keycard just for him.

Rusty grabbed up the datapad and keycard then made his way up to his new room, where he immediately powered down MTD and crashed on his bed. However his datapad beeped, signaling a new message. Rusty shook his head, and the sleep out of his eyes to read:

"Rusty,

Welcome aboard! As you see, we've placed you with Rogue. Hope that is satisfactory.

On to business, though. I don't have time to give you great detail about the mission right now, as I need to sleep, but the idea is that we're going to get back a bunch of important data from Riel's (hijacked) corvette and then destroy it. You'll be with Rogue, who is retrieving the data. Good luck and bring weapons with you.

                          -Trevor Evenson"

Rusty thought about that for a moment...

Why are we blowing Riel's ship? Where is Riel? That will have to wait till the morning, I reckon...
FM/PO2 Rustichituk/Nazgul 2-7/Wing 1 (Phoenix)/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)
Lamel_Evas
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Lamel_Evas
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 19, 2008 10:15:59 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
Lamel being shy was peeking around the corner before hopping into her TIE fighter and checking the controls, her friend alyssa was in the copilot's seat and checking them with her. She wished she could get over her shyness but these days she did as there was no time for it. Lamel wanted to go so bad that she felt excited as she thought Well, maybe this is it and yeah my first mission! YAY! She smiled for the first time as she looked at alyssa and said; "looks good and when do you think we will be going on this first mission?"
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
Jegora Fal
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Jegora Fal
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 20, 2008 1:04:30 AM    View the profile of Jegora Fal 
Jegora looked around the hangar and sighed. The rest of the squadron was flitting around the hangar bay, consulting techs on the various paint jobs they could do, and some were even taking the painting into their own hands. Others could be seen standing or sitting, appearing to be doing nothing. Jegora figured they were trying to think up a name for their ships.

Jegora didn’t understand the purpose behind painting a ship with bright colors. The only thing that would accomplish was it would make the ship easier to spot, and to shoot. Jegora knew it would also piss a lot of rebels and pirates off, which was like inviting someone to shoot at you. Jegora figured he got shot at enough without goading enemy pilots into it.

Shaking his head, Jegora walked over to his Interceptor. It was brand new, and had only been flown once to make sure all the primary systems worked properly. The techs said it was in perfect condition, but Jegora didn’t trust his ship’s functionality to anyone. Starting with the wings, he carefully examined every surface of his ship with a critical eye. Any minor flaw could end in disaster, so it was important to catch such flaws before they became disasters.

Seeing nothing on the outer surfaces of the ship, Jegora moved to the cockpit. Opening the hatch and peering in, Jegora whistled appreciatively. Clear coverings had been placed over all the displays, and while physically the cockpit was only a little different from a stock TIE Fighter’s, Jegora noticed some serious differences in the quality of equipment.

Lowering himself down into the cockpit, Jegora left the hatch open. There wasn’t much he could test, but he wanted to make sure the reactor powered up correctly and the engines came online properly. Punching in the key code he had received earlier that day, he had to grin. This ship was a thousand times better than the sensor TIE he had flown on his last mission.

The reactor hummed to life with the completion of the code, and Jegora allowed himself to grin again. He loved that sound. He quickly brought the power monitors online. The proper displays lit up perfectly, displaying power usage statistics and his reactor’s status. Next he flipped two switches, one for each engine. Slowly the hum of the engines was added to that of the reactor. The TIE began to shake slightly, trying to escape the magnets that held it in place.

Leaning back in his seat and smiling to himself, Jegora powered up a few more displays. All worked perfectly, until he got to his weapon readouts. The first display he turned on sparked and sputtered. Suddenly Jegora was wary. He had grown up around ships, and he knew that when something sparked it was bad. Sparks meant a bad connection somewhere along the line, and bad connections meant heat spreading throughout the ship. Including the fuel lines.

He watched his controls for a few seconds, hoping it was a just a quirk of a brand new craft. To his horror, he saw flames appear at the bottom of his weapons display. Wasting no time, Jegora used his adrenaline-fueled upper body strength to pull himself out of the cockpit. Once on top of his TIE he yelled for an extinguisher. If the flames spread, they might touch a fuel line.

That would be bad.
Jegora Fal

FM/CPO Jegora Fal/Nazgul 1-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1Flt/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) [MC1] [LoT]

Exitus acta probat
-The ends justify the means
Rogue
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Rogue
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 20, 2008 1:36:58 PM    View the profile of Rogue 
Rogue wore up with a start and was halfway out of his bunk, when he realized it was just his alarm going off. Course it was blaring the same sound as the ship's scramble alarm probably didn't help either. But by using that sound, he knew his subconscious would respond to it and he would get up.

He leaned and reached over to the shelf next to his bunk and switched the alarm off.  It was 0445, like had set it for. Then he dragged himself to the small refresher attached to his quarters.

One of the nice perks about being a flight leader. I get a private shower in addition to the rest.

He showered and shaved, then went back into his room. He dressed in undergarments, imperial black t- shirt, and socks, then took out one of his modified new flightsuits. He pulled it on and zipped it up, then added his customized flight boots.  The scout holdout blaster was secure in the right one and the vibro-knife in the other.

He checked the time, it was almost 0515, so he had to get down to the hangar to meet Rusty and the rest of the squadron. But first, he wanted breakfast. He strapped on his DL-44's, and left his quarters, making his way to the nearest mess. There he grabbed a cup of caf and a breakfast sandwich. He ate the sandwich on the way to the hangar. Which didn't take long. The squadron's assigned quarters and mess were located so they could go from a sound sleep to launching in what was supposed to be no more than five minutes.

But Rogue knew better than that. Even running an emergency power up, it still took almost two minutes to get an Interceptor ready to fly.  So ten minutes for a full scramble was more realistic.

He entered the hangar to find Trevor, Max and Lamel all standing there chatting. Max and Lamel were in the new flight suits but of course Trevor was not.  He would have to give Trevor a hard time about that, even if the others already had. He looked around for his flight members but he couldn't see any. Then he heard the roar that announced Rusty's arrival.  So Rogue turned to the see the Wookiee entering the bay, surprisingly in a flight suit.

I didn't think they made them that big. Or that he would wear one. Most Wookiee's won't wear clothing. But I guess if he wants to survive ejecting in deep space, he has to wear it.

Another pilot followed him in at a jog.  Rogue recognized the jogging pilot as Crimson.  So that meant his reorganized flight was all here.

Suddenly, before anyone else could say anything. Jeg's voice rang out loud enough to be heard across the hangar.  It was the one word that meant horror to them all, FIRE!  Everyone bolted into action, running for extinguishers, etc.  They had to contain it before it hit anything volatile and detonated, possibly killing them all.
XO/FL/2LT Rogue/Nazgul 2-5/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE / [MC1][VC:B][SWC](LoT)
Trevor Evenson
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Trevor Evenson
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 20, 2008 2:48:52 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
The shout of ‘fire’ was one that caused Trevor to jump and look around. At first he spotted Jeg looking somewhat panicked on the catwalks above their heads, but didn’t see any flames. Then a second glance let him notice the warm glow that was being cast onto the view port of Jeg’s fighter, from the inside. Most of the squadron scrambled immediately, along with the techs that heard the call. The same thing was in all of their heads. If the fire were to reach the fuel tanks or burn through a fuel line, they’d have a big problem. The warheads weren’t as big of a deal because they were designed to withstand high heat, but an explosion of a fuel tank would be enough to set those off as well.

Rogue had grabbed the first fire extinguisher he could find and was beginning to climb the ladder up to the catwalks in an awkward fashion, a 10-pound extinguisher tucked under his arm. Trevor dashed off and grabbed a second, but didn’t bother climbing the ladder. He got Jeg’s attention by calling his name, and then fired the extinguisher in his direction with a golfing action. Jeg had been in the way of the canister but upon realizing that it was carrying too much force for him to catch, he sidestepped the small tank and let it clatter along the catwalk before rolling slowly off the edge and dropping to the hanger floor below.

It hit the floor valve first and half a second later there was a cloud of white dust that was easily pushed out of the way as the extinguisher rocketed towards Jeg’s TIE, sending a trail of compressed extinguisher behind it. For a minute Trevor thought it would have enough force to push through the skin of Jeg’s TIE, but he was wrong. It bounced off the underside of the cockpit ball, the deflection angling it towards himself, Lamel and a tech that had been standing and watching the events unfold.

Trevor pushed Lamel to the floor and dove atop her, the tech diving in a different direction to escape the little red missile. And clanged off the floor and clattered along the bay until it came to a rest against the far wall. Rogue hadn’t stopped to watch, and by now he had made it over to Jeg’s TIE and was unloading an extinguisher into the cockpit. Rusty joined him a moment later with two more and in a matter of seconds they had the fire under control. A few people cheered when the two pilots stood away from the fighter and seemed to relax, while others just quietly resumed their work as if little had happened.

It was too late for Jegora’s TIE though, the cockpit had been consumed with fire and everything had been destroyed. It was nothing but a burnt out shell, and although the engines could probably be salvaged, it was definitely unflyable. Slowly, Rogue, Rusty and Jegora made their way to the floor and over to where the Nazgul Commander was having a chat with the head tech.

“Ah, Jeg, about time. What happened up there?” Trevor asked, nodding in the direction of the TIE fighter’s carcass. Jeg shrugged and threw his hands up in the air.

“No clue. I went to check everything through and when I flipped on a screen it started spewing sparks and caught fire. Things just escalated from there.” Jeg said, not sounding too stressed about the whole thing despite the fact that he had just been deprived of his ride for the mission. The head tech nodded and thought things over for a second.

“I bet someone forgot to tighten a bunch of connections and some sparks landed on something flammable. Most of the stuff in there will burn pretty easy once it gets going. At least it didn’t detonate anything though, we can be thankful for that.” He said, visibly relieved. “I’ll see if I can find another Interceptor for you, but with the way things have been around here lately I wouldn’t count on one being free.” The tech continued to explain, then headed off away from the pilots with his data pad in hand, typing rapidly.

Trevor was about to tell Jeg that he’d do his best to find him a fighter when his data pad beeped loudly from his pocket and he quickly withdrew it and checked the message. He read it over twice before glancing up at Jeg. “Looks like your bad luck has some good attached to it, along with some more bad. I just got a message that our friend Aslond is going to be sent on the recon ship First Glance for this mission, and that frees up his TIE fighter. The downside is that that means we’re flying with only eleven pilots.” Trevor explained, watching Jeg smile slightly at the idea getting to still fly in the mission.

By now most of the squadron had shown up, and a few minutes after 0600 everyone had arrived. Trevor hadn’t noticed it at first, but Rogue’s was slightly different from the rest of them. It had had the patch on the chest moved to the opposite shoulder, and Trevor frowned for a moment at this. I guess I can’t say too much though, I’m not even wearing mine. We’ll just call it the XO special. He grinned, looking around the group of pilots.

“Howdy everyone!” Trevor said loudly, standing up on a stool supplied to him by a tech and getting everyone’s attention by waving his arms slightly. “We’re going to be lifting off soon and headed to the Strike Cruiser Thanatos. The landing bays will be tight, but luckily for us we don’t have to share with Viper.” Trevor joked; a few of the pilots laughing while others made mocking ‘eww’ noises.

“The downside to all of this is that they won’t give us clearance to lift off until Viper is ready to go. From what I know they’re loading up in another hanger bay, but they can’t possibly take too much longer. Let’s get all of our preflight done, that way we’ll be ready when they are.” Trevor ordered, stepping down from the stool and shooing his pilots to their fighters. Rogue hung back for a moment, looking at Trevor’s choice of clothing.

“Can’t stand to wear your own design?” He queried, pointing at the flight suits of the other pilots but keeping a straight face.

“I see you couldn’t exactly stand wearing it either.” Trevor retorted, pointing at the patch on both shoulders.

“Touché..” Rogue replied, turning and heading off for the ladder that led to the catwalks, leaving Trevor chuckling and helping the crew of the shuttle to load everything onboard.
SC/1LT/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC][EoT:EC][LoT]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06
Still the VEN's #1 writer as of ESC `07

Clearly Canadian!
Crimson Phoenix
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 20, 2008 4:30:16 PM    View the profile of Crimson Phoenix 
Reaching his quarters, Crimson was slightly out of breath. He ducked around the room, looking for where he had set his bag. He spotted his helmet resting on a desk and was relieved to have noticed it at all; otherwise, he might have had to make a second trip. Now where was his duffel bag? He rummaged through the closet, tossing aside clothes and other things, but there was no sign of it there. He checked through desk drawers, and once again, it continued to elude him. Becoming frustrated, he slumped down onto his bunk and scanned the room one last time in desperation, when it suddenly hit him. He reached beneath the bunk and felt around for it, and found that his bag had been shoved back against the wall. Sighing with relief, Crimson stood up and headed out the door and back down the halls toward the hangar.

When he got back, Crimson was surprised to see such an exciting scene unfolding in the hangar bay. From the look of it, someone's Interceptor had caught fire, as a fire extinguisher went spiraling out of control. Crimson began to approach the animated scene, but thought better of it. It seemed as though the other guys were handling it.

Finally, the situation calmed down and everyone could breathe again. After sorting out the TIE fighter situation with Jeg, Trevor called everyone's attention.

"Howdy everyone!" he called out, as the conversations dulled down and everyone turned their attention to Trevor.

“We’re going to be lifting off soon and headed to the Strike Cruiser Thanatos. The landing bays will be tight, but luckily for us we don’t have to share with Viper.” The Nazgul Sqaudron chuckled at this, and Crimson grinned when he heard someone say something about the lack of a pungent smell.

“The downside to all of this is that they won’t give us clearance to lift off until Viper is ready to go. From what I know they’re loading up in another hanger bay, but they can’t possibly take too much longer. Let’s get all of our preflight done, that way we’ll be ready when they are.” At this, Trevor finished their short meeting, and everybody dispersed to their individual fighters.

Before heading to his ship, Crimson crossed over to the transport shuttle and dropped off his things next to all the other bags. He also got a glimpse of all the crates of weapons and supplies for the squadron and saw one marked 'FLAME CARBINES: HANDLE WITH CARE'. Ah, so this mission will be fun after all, Crimson thought and smirked as he headed back toward his own ship.

Climbing back up the catwalks and reaching his own Interceptor, Crimson opened the hatch for the second time this morning. He climbed in and settled himself in the seat, strapping on his helmet. Pulling the hatch down over himself, he began the pre-flight procedures and booted up the ship computer. Powering up the reactor and flipping on the engines, he felt that familiar hum echo throughout his body, and Crimson decided that he was ready to get going.
The Crimson Phoenix

"Try not a barrel roll. Do a barrel roll or do not a barrel roll. There is no try a barrel roll." - Masta Yoder

FM/LCRW Crimson Phoenix/Nazgul 2-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE
Rustichituk
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Rustichituk
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 21, 2008 2:35:06 AM    View the profile of Rustichituk 
Rusty awoke to the sound of a noisy alarm, which he grudgingly switched off and grumbled to himself as he swung himself out of bed and checked his datapad. It had some message about his flight suit being in the closet in his dorm. Although the idea of people quietly sneaking into his dorm while he was sleeping was a bit disconcerting to him, Rusty was happy to know that he’d have a flight suit, he just hoped that his size had been taken into account.

Rusty made his way over to the closet and pressed the sensor to the right of it, and the door hissed open. To his relief, the flight suit was the correct size.
For once, these knuckleheads got something right…I wonder who tipped them off… The wookiee thought to himself and chuckled.
This would be the first time Rusty would get to fly with the Navy with the extra safety of a flight suit. In the old days no one had ever paid much attention to those sorts of details.
Maybe this place is finally getting itself organized. Rusty pondered.
The wookiee may hate clothing, but he couldn’t deny the comfort that the flight suit would give him while he was flying.

He quickly slipped on his suit and then carefully buckled his two Ryyk Kerarthorr sheaths to his back. The big buckles stretched across his chest, and the giant sheaths made a giant “x” across his back. He then inserted his two Ryyk Kerarthorr blades, which were a must. Despite the range that a blaster or other projectile weapons provided, Rusty preferred his Ryyk Kerarthorr blades to any of them. He had studied the way of the blade since he was very young and if he had not been exiled, he was destined to be a berserker (so why didn’t he join the VE Army? Because he wanted to put as much of his past behind him as possible.) The wookiee then slung his quarrel bandoleer over his shoulder and slipped his bowcaster into a bag made of hide. He also slipped some meat jerky into it. He never saw much use for bringing too many things with you. This was all he would really need. Before grabbing his helmet in one paw and the bag in the other, he powered M-TD on. The tiny robot’s large, circular eyes flickered then maintained a golden glow and a soft whirring sound could be heard as it began to hover.
“Good morning, Master Rustichituk.” The droid said cheerfully, but the wookiee was already making his way out the door.
I’ve got to hurry, or I’m going to be late…I’d hate to start off on a bad foot. Rusty thought at he hurriedly put some of that jerky to his mouth, No time to stop at a mess hall.

When Rusty reached the hangar he called out to Rogue to make his arrival known, but before he could get his whole name out of his mouth he heard some panicked yelling, which finally registered to the wookiee as “Fire! Fire!”.
The wookiee roared “What the bloody hell have you morons done now?!”
M-TD didn’t bother to translate when the wookiee ran off, at a surprising speed for his bulk, to snatch two large fire extinguishers from glass cases on the wall.
I swear, these kids are useless…they’re going to get us all killed! he thought as he chucked the two extinguishers up to the catwalk with uncanny finesse and then bolted up the ladder. Scooping up the two fire extinguishers, he ran up to the Interceptor cockpit where Rogue was attempting to put out the fire on his own and let his own two extinguishers smother the flames.

Once the fire was out Rusty was relieved, but quite annoyed.
“We’re not even flying yet, and someone’s already jeopardizing the lives of this squadron!” he roared angrily, but his comment went unheard, drowned out by cheering throughout the hangar.
They’ll get excited about anything, won’t they? I hope they don’t get so excited about near death experiences when flying.

Rusty really did need to check out his own Interceptor, but the man that was apparently in charge, Trevor Evenson, had called the squad over. “Howdy everyone!” Trevor said loudly, standing up on a stool supplied to him by a tech and getting everyone’s attention by waving his arms slightly. “We’re going to be lifting off soon and headed to the Strike Cruiser Thanatos. The landing bays will be tight, but luckily for us we don’t have to share with Viper.” The man said. Most of the pilots responded immaturely. Rusty noted this and would make sure to keep that in mind when things got sticky. Immature pilots could be unreliable when the going got rough. Rusty still wasn’t sure who he could completely trust in the squad apart from Rogue.

“The downside to all of this is that they won’t give us clearance to lift off until Viper is ready to go. From what I know they’re loading up in another hanger bay, but they can’t possibly take too much longer. Let’s get all of our preflight done, that way we’ll be ready when they are.” Trevor ordered, stepping down from the stool and shooing his pilots to their fighters.

Rusty thought he could ask Rogue what the mission was about before he looked his ship over, but Trevor stole his attention so Rusty figured he’d go give his ship a look over. He immediately picked his ship out, it had one of the more subtle paint jobs, rather plain-looking Ryyk blades going down the sides of the cockpit. He was glad to see they didn’t make it flashy; he was not one of gaudy tastes. He would have to be quick, so he checked the outside rather haphazardly and trusted the techs (for once). Rusty then climbed on top of the spherical cockpit and dropped in. Although it wasn’t exactly roomy, he wasn’t going to bang his head or anything. Good, all I ask for is a bit of comfort while I’m flying.
FM/PO2 Rustichituk/Nazgul 2-7/Wing 1 (Phoenix)/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)
Lamel_Evas
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 21, 2008 11:55:42 AM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
At first Lamel didn't know what to say, She chuckled. "It would help if you got off of me so that i could get up. Or maybe you could help me get up?" She wasn't scared of Trevor at all or she would have screamed otherwise. Trevor got off of her one the fire was over, with a chuckle. "I am sorry Lamel but that was for your safety that's all, no harm done at all i assume?" Lamel laughed and got up off of the ground with the help of Trevor. "No, no harm done at all Trevor sir." She laughed, "Though that did suprise me as did the fire." Trevor chuckled, "Well now i couldn't let you die now could i Lamel? I don't want to see you hurt in any way, shape, or form." She chuckled while thinking;

Trevor wouldn't hurt me for the world nor would he see me hurt in any way. Maybe i'll tell him of my past later after we get back from this mission.

Trevor could tell Lamel was thinking and laughed breaking her out of her thoughts. "Are we thinking about the mission Lamel or something else? As i can tell you are thinking by the look on your face." Lamel being broken out of her thoughts smiled and spoke after about a minute, "I was thinking of telling you something later after this mission is over with, something has been bugging the heck out of me and i need to talk about it with you sir." Trevor smiled, "Anything you want to talk to me about is alright i suppose. i hope it is nothing too serious. I have heard you have had nightmares but if it is something more, i might want to know alright?" Lamel nods her head "It is something more and i need to know what is happening at this moment sir."
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
[This message has been edited by Lamel_Evas (edited January 22, 2008 4:14:32 PM)]
Trevor Evenson
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Trevor Evenson
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 23, 2008 2:12:42 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
After a minute of helping the crew load the shuttle with their gear, Trevor departed and made his way towards his own fighter. One of the techs had let him know that Viper was away, and that they would be cleared for launch momentarily. The short hop between the Atrus and the Thanatos would only take them a minute, then they would land onto the magnetized floor of the Thanatos and set off. Normally landing on the wings of an interceptor (or any TIE for that matter) was frowned upon except in emergency situations, as it put undue stress on the wing pylons and the wings themselves. TIEs were designed to be hung from magnetic docking ‘claws’, keeping them suspended above the hanger floor by a few feet. One of the primary skills of a TIE pilot was to be able to maneuver his craft into the claws with only a few feet between himself and the deck below.

Dropping into the cockpit of his craft, Trevor began running through the basic pre-flight checks. Engines, reactor, life support; he made sure the eject circuits were all online incase for some reason he needed to escape. Next came the checks on the nav system, followed by having the weapons system run a self-diagnostic check to make sure everything was fine there. He was just about to close the hatch of his fighter and put his helmet on when a shadow was cast over the insides of his fighter. He peered upwards and spotted the slight silhouette of a man looking down at him from the catwalks.

“Are you Commander Evenson?” The man asked, shifting slightly and allowing Trevor a better view of his facial features. Trevor’s mind couldn’t match the face to anyone he knew onboard the Atrus, but at the same time that didn’t amount to a very high percentage of the total population. Trevor merely nodded and waited for the stranger to continue. “I’m G’shlecc Atrasin. G for short. I was told to come here and give this to you, under orders that I was joining your squadron.” He continued, handing an envelope down to Trevor. Trevor accepted it and opened it, squinting to read the words under the dim light of the cockpit.

“So you’re to take Kaz’s spot eh? Well, all right then. We’re down a pilot as it is so you’ll be flying as Nazgul 11. I’ll have to go through things and sort stuff out once we get to the Thanatos. Have you been briefed?” Trevor asked, putting the letter away and sticking it under his seat. G nodded. “Good, then I don’t have to worry too much about it once we get to the Thanatos.. Hang on a second.” Trevor said, picking up his helmet and holding the microphone near his mouth.

“This is Nazgul Leader to Kaz. You’ve been reassigned bud, go report to the training office for your new assignment. It’s been good to fly with you.” Trevor said, then set the helmet down and glanced out the view port of his fighter. Across the hanger he saw Kaz climb out of his fighter and then shoot down the ladder, headed off slowly towards the training center. Turning back to G’Shlecc, Trevor pointed out which fighter would be his for this mission. “Hopefully you’ve got everything packed and loaded onto the shuttle, because we’re just about to leave. You ship should have already been pre-checked, so I wouldn’t worry about that part. Just hope in and we’ll jump across to the Thanatos then be on our way.”

G nodded and departed without another word, leaving Trevor to finish getting himself ready. He pulled his helmet on but didn’t bother securing it with the chin-strap, and then quickly dialed in the comm. frequency for the tower.

“This is Nazgul Lead. Are we clear for takeoff?” Trevor asked, leaning back in his seat and doing up his belts. He spotted G’Shlecc hop into the fighter across the hanger, and as he was waiting for his reply he noticed all the other TIE hatches close as the squadron listened in on his conversation with the tower.

“Nazgul lead, this is Tower. You’re cleared for takeoff when ready.” The order came back. Trevor nodded to himself and switched back to the Nazgul frequency.

“You heard the lady, we’re cleared to go. Sound off as we leave and let me know that everyone is ready to go. I’ll see you all when we get on board the Thanatos.” Trevor said, and with that lead the way out of the hanger. He smiled to himself as the craft’s engines hummed behind him and pushed the craft gracefully out of the hanger. As he descended from the belly of the Atrus, he spotted a small cluster of five ships. Four were corvettes; the fifth was a strike cruiser. That was where they were headed. I wonder which one belongs to Tokijin.. He thought to himself, but quickly reminded himself that technically it still belonged to the Vast Empire. Tokijin was just the person in charge.

He checked out the rear view port and spotted most of Nazgul squadron getting ready to leave the hanger, or already outside of it. He could hear them calling off their callsigns and saying they were ready, but for the most part ignored it. He was busy transferring the coordinate data that the Strike Cruiser was sending him to the other computers of Nazgul squadron. It didn’t take long for the ships ahead of them to grow large enough to almost fill his view port, and soon they were close enough that he could see their designated docking area.

“This is Trevor Evenson of Nazgul squadron, requesting permission to set down in the hanger. Our shuttle should be arriving right behind us with all of our supplies.” Trevor said, sending his clearance codes to the person in charge of landing on the Thanatos. A few minutes later he had confirmation and angled his craft towards the hanger. As he got closer he realized that getting all the fighters into the hanger would be a very tight fit indeed. “Ok Nazgul Squadron, we’re going to have to do some fancy landing here. Use your repulsors to guide you as far back as possible before spinning your fighter to face the hanger exit. We’re going to have to fit tight to get everyone in here and still have room for the shuttle to land.”

With those words he switched his repulsors on and shut down the engines, gliding the craft into the hanger and swiftly applying the brakes to slow his speed to that of a fast walk. The TIE behind him did the same, and they made fairly quick progress of getting everyone into the hanger. When he had completed the maneuver and had his craft facing the fight way, he powered down the repulsors carefully and set the craft to the magnetized floor. He didn’t pop the hatch until everyone else had done the same and shut down their fighters. When the hatch released, he heard a loud metallic ‘ting’ as the magnets on the floor became active and sucked the fighters to them. You could probably put this Strike Cruiser through a barrel roll and these babies wouldn’t move. Trevor thought to himself as a small crew of techs began bringing rickety ladders over to the fighters. Normally a large staircase on wheels would be used for such a landing, but Trevor didn’t have to wonder why they didn’t have those in the hanger.

Trevor had a feeling that the few techs that were lucky enough to come on station with Nazgul would be sorely disappointed in the size of their workspace. Although the squadron did have a group of techs whom they demanded be the only hands to work on their fighters, most of the time they were used to working in large open areas, not a cramped bay where there was but a few feet between each fighter.

It didn’t take long for one of the crewmembers to show up and find Trevor. “Sir, if you’ll gather your squadron and follow me, I’ll show you to your quarters. You’ll have to be sharing, I think each flight has it’s own designated room. We’re going to be jumping shortly, after your shuttle lands and unloads. In the mean time, if you’ll gather your squadron?” The crewmember asked. Trevor was immediately agitated by the man’s small, pesky demeanor, but gathered his squadron regardless.

“From what I understand, Flight one will be bunking in the same room, Flight two in their own room, and Flight three in theirs. Easy enough?” Trevor told his squadron as they began to gather around. He got a bunch of nods and a few shrugs, but for the most part no one seemed to mind. Once everyone had gathered around, Trevor turned back to the crewmember. “Lead the way.”
SC/1LT/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC][EoT:EC][LoT]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06
Still the VEN's #1 writer as of ESC `07

Clearly Canadian!
Lamel_Evas
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 23, 2008 3:07:03 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
Lamel was quick to get out of her TIE after landing on the Thanatos she felt nervous about this mission now that she was all alone without her friend Alyssa there to help her. She gulped somewhat thinking to herself on how she would get through this mission without getting herself harmed. That is the last thing i need to get my ass hurt in someway. Broken out of her thoughts by Trevor as she stood there thinking to herself again, She turned to find her TIE fighter seeing if it was alright and it was. Lamel had no need to worry about her TIE as it was in good hands for now. She unstrapped her helmet and yawned, breathing the air which was purified as there was an air purifier in the building.

Thank goodness i am here. Lamel thought as she glanced out the window sighing, But there was no time to reflect on such thoughts as she made her way to her bunker and sat down on the bed, Suddenly a noise made her jump, *CRACK* it sounded like the door and she screamed as to her it sounded like a whip. Perhaps i shouldn't be so damned jumpy today! She curled up on her bunkbed with her eyes shut taking slow, deep, meditative breaths as she fought to break out of it. She sighed as the feeling disappeared.

She turned her head to the door only to see Trevor standing there. "Trevor ...what the hell are you doing here?" She still had a scared look on her face and slowly got up and walked to Trevor.

"Do you think i would leave you alone because of your past? I'm sorry i scared you like that." Still glancing at her face he frowned, "Come let's go to the main area, I don't want to see you alone like this." As they neared the main area of the ship,

Lamel sighed again. "It's just flashbacks Trevor, sir. I didn't mean to go off alone like that, i get scared sometimes. Noises can easily scare me as you can tell. I...i was born and raised in an orphanage along with my sister until i could get out of there."

They sat on the couch as she talked. "Some say my father ran because he didn't want to see my mother or his children." Lamel frowned, "I swear i'll go crazy if i can't get over this." She glanced down at the floor. "I am sorry you had to see me like that sir, It wasn't like me to be like that and i hope you forgive me."

Trevor nods, he had to listen to everyone at the base, didn't he? "I couldn't wait till the end of the mission to talk to you Lamel."
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
[This message has been edited by Lamel_Evas (edited January 23, 2008 3:21:08 PM)]
Gshlecc
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 23, 2008 5:51:11 PM    View the profile of Gshlecc 
“Are you Commander Evenson?” He asked.  The pilot shifted in his seat and turned to the voice.  He gave the stranger a look that you usually give at parties where people think they know you, but aren’t quite sure.  He nodded. “I’m G’shlecc Atrasin. ‘G’ for short.  I was told to come here and give this to you, under orders that I was joining your squadron.”  He handed over the  orders packet and watch the lieutenant read.  He squinted a bit. TIE’s are not built as reading rooms. 

“So you’re to take Kaz’s spot eh? Well, all right then. We’re down a pilot as it is so you’ll be flying as Nazgul 11. I’ll have to go through things and sort stuff out once we get to the Thanatos. Have you been briefed?”, he asked. Atrasin nodded an affirmative as he stowed the orders.  “Good, then I don’t have to worry too much about it once we get to the Thanatos.. Hang on a second.” he said as he reached for his helmet com-link.

“This is Nazgul Leader to Kaz. You’ve been reassigned bud, go report to the training office for your new assignment. It’s been good to fly with you. “He stated as he set the helm aside.  G watched him trace the path of a departing pilot out of the hangar.  Evenson then pointed to the recently abandoned fighter and said, “Hopefully you’ve got everything packed and loaded onto the shuttle, because we’re just about to leave. Your ship should have already been pre-checked, so I wouldn’t worry about that part. Just hop in and we’ll jump across to the Thanatos then be on our way.”

G'shlecc gave him a quick nod and dashed to his ship.  "My ship", he got an electric chill just thinking the words.  He approached the TIE and noticed the fresh paint job.  A dark, royal blue covered the entire ship. It was unadorned except for the two enormous Wampa arms painted from the cockpit up the support arms and ending on the inside of the solar panels.  The words “Come to Daddy” were lettered just to the right of the cockpit port.  “Definitely needs a paint job.” he thought, but that will have to wait.  G hopped in the open hatch and situated himself.  He could hear Lt. Evenson talking to the tower.

“You heard the lady, we’re cleared to go. Sound off as we leave and let me know that everyone is ready to go. I’ll see you all when we get on board the Thanatos.” he barked. Atrasin double checked his sensors, and chimed in, “Nazgul 11 ready to go.”  He signaled the Air Boss to release the docking clamp, and then eased out of the hanger.  She felt good in his hands.  H thought back to all those years on Kuat watching ships depart, knowing that they were destined for action, while he was destined to build another.  Not now. Now was his time to depart.  It was a short trip, but not the last. That alone satiated him.  As they approached the Thanatos he could hear the lieutenant talking to their Flight Control Officer, getting instructions.

“OK Nazgul Squadron, we’re going to have to do some fancy landing here. Use your repulsors to guide you as far back as possible before spinning your fighter to face the hanger exit. We’re going to have to fit tight to get everyone in here and still have room for the shuttle to land.”
As he entered the bay he killed the engines and switched to repulsors.  Atrasin deftly eased the fighter into a spot between Nazguls 7 and 10. He didn’t know their names yet, but that would be easily fixed over a cupa caf in the mess.  He shut her down, as the engines died down he overheard the ring of TIE meeting deck as the magnetic floor engaged.

he moved quickly to  strip off his flight gloves and helmet. at about the same time the ladder arrived.  G notice the others stepping from their cockpits; a couple of kids about half his age, one blonde, the other dark haired, an attractive brunette crawled out of Nazgul 10 and to his surprise, a wookiee, out of  Nazgul 7. "I didn’t know TIE’s could be made to fit a wookiee." he mused. The lieutenant called them together, “From what I understand, Flight one will be bunking in the same room, Flight two in their own room, and Flight three in theirs. Easy enough?”

He nodded as the fell into step behind a crewman.  He noticed the others checking him out.  He was quite sure several of them thought that he did his FT during the Clone Wars.  Not to be unexpected, but then better late than never.
CM Gshlecc Atrasin/Nazgul 3-11/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE

Vacuus Ordo , Nex
                      -Without Order, Death
[This message has been edited by Atrasin (edited January 23, 2008 6:41:46 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Atrasin (edited January 23, 2008 7:09:35 PM)]
Gshlecc
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 24, 2008 11:33:50 AM    View the profile of Gshlecc 
As they walked along the corridor G’shlecc let his eyes wander.  He took in the sights and sounds of the ship. “Nothing special here,” he thought.  “Just a standard Strike Cruiser.”  He then focused on those around him, his new squadron mates.  The brunette, Nazgul 10, was to his left.  Something about her didn’t feel right. She wasn’t all ‘here’.  ‘Distracted’ was the first word that jumped into his head, ‘jumpy’ was next.  There was a story there, and probably not a good one.
The two younger men, Nazgul’s 2 and 6 walked with the arrogance of an undefeated youth.  Hopefully, this would not change during his time with them.  Another kid, this one with a pony tail, walked with Lt. Evenson.  He was hard to read.  “This one’s used to keeping it close to the vest.” G thought.  Evenson led them down the hall, talking to the Strike Cruiser crewman as he went.  “He’s got a distance to him, like Naz10, but not as bad.  More like he’s in thought, or slightly worried.” He mused. 
Then there was the Wookiee.  Reading a Wookiee was like trying to decipher Gamorrean runes while drunk.  This one seemed more annoyed than most. Could be he was just a naturally grumpy fellow, maybe it was the fire he had in his ship as G was arriving.  Maybe it was the size of the cockpit, not normally made with Wookiees in mind.  Either way, he was not in a good mood.  “I think I’ll steer clear of him for the time being.” thought G’shlecc. 
“My life is in THIER hands.” he chuckled to himself.  “I had better make sure they WANT to keep me alive.”  At that moment Evenson stopped and turned to the group.  “Here we are.”
CM Gshlecc Atrasin/Nazgul 3-11/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE

Vacuus Ordo , Nex
                      -Without Order, Death
Jegora Fal
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Jegora Fal
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 24, 2008 4:31:04 PM    View the profile of Jegora Fal 
Jeg swung his bag down on his bunk. It had been an easy flight, a tricky landing, and a short walk. Overall, the mission was progressing to plan perfectly. Minus the large fire that had destroyed his ship and almost killed them all. It was lucky the fuel lines hadn’t caught. On top of it all, Jeg was sure he would never look at an extinguisher the same way again.

Jegora sat down on the small bunk and surveyed the room. Flight One was in this particular cabin, which meant Jegora was sharing the room with Trevor, Nell, and Nymall. It wasn’t a large cabin by any means. There was a separate ‘fresher, but the bunks lined each wall with a table in the middle. There was no kitchen area as crew members were expected to eat in one of the mess halls. The best thing Jegora could say about the room was that it was only a minute or so from the hangar.

After watching the others unpack, Jegora decided to do the same. It wasn’t hard for him to do, however. He was a neat and orderly person, and it reflected in the way he packed and unpacked. His clothes were folded properly and crisply, which made unpacking easy. Each bunk had four compartments at the base, two for each bed. Jegora quickly put his clothes in one of the drawers and his flight suit and equipment in the other. Nell had the top bunk, and was unpacking her stuff also. On the other side of the room, Trevor and Nymall were doing much the same.

The squadron had some time off while the Task Force traveled to the Admirals location. Jegora planned to spend most of it sleeping. It had been a long time since he had gotten a full 8 hours of sleep, and he was looking forward to the chance for some real shut eye. Grinning to himself, he leaned back and fluffed his pillow. He tried to stay awake, but to no avail. His body was still trying to recover from their last mission.

An hour later Jegora awoke starving. Quietly, in case anyone was still sleeping, he left the room in search of a mess hall. To his surprise and joy, he found one not to far from his room, farther down the hall way. Grinning to himself he loaded a plate with food and took a seat at one of the empty tables.

Eating quickly and quietly, Jegora quickly wolfed down the plate of food. It wasn’t the best he had ever tasted, but it was food. He tossed his tray on the conveyer belt and left the mess hall to wander around. The Strike Cruiser wasn’t big by any means, but it wasn’t small either. Soon Jeg had picked up a light jog. He jogged from the hangar bays to the mess hall, then from the mess hall clear to the front of the ship. He stopped at an observation deck to look at the stars.

Breathing a little heavier than normal and sweating a bit, Jegora admired the stars that had made him pick up flying in the first place. After a while he picked up his jog again, this time deciding to run back to the hangars. He was just in time to watch the techs paint over Aslond's paint job. Jegora didn’t really care what his ship was painted, but he didn’t think it was right flying Aslond’s design.

He watched as the techs painted the entire interceptor black. That would have been enough, in most occasions, but Jegora wanted the full camouflage effect. When the techs were done with the black paint they sat back and waited. The paint took mere minutes to dry, and soon they were adding the final touches.

Wielding a small can of white paint and another small can of silver paint, the tech splattered the black with flecks of white and silver. The effect of the white and silver would break of the black of his ship, making it even harder to see.

Jegora grinned to himself. Sometimes he felt bad about hiding his ship, but he rather he shot the enemy before the enemy knew he was there. It would help save his life, Jegora was all for it.
Jegora Fal

FM/CPO Jegora Fal/Nazgul 1-2/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/1Flt/VEN/VE (=*A*=) (=*SA*=) [MC1] [LoT]

Exitus acta probat
-The ends justify the means
Gshlecc
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 24, 2008 5:05:27 PM    View the profile of Gshlecc 
As the others unpacked G’shlecc took the opportunity to run back to the hangar.  He found the Techs busy securing and servicing the TIE’s.  He wandered over to where his new fighter sat and asked the Lead Tech for a moment of his time.
“Yeah, so, I just literally hot-seat jumped into this baby, would it be possible to repaint it quick.” He asked in a somewhat entreating tone. The Tech gave him a dead stare, waited a heartbeat, and said in a flat tone, “Sure, what do you want.”  G could hear the unspoken sigh of a man who perceived himself being taken advantage of.  “Well, I’d like her to be a flat dark, bone white. It should be almost smoke colored.  Add a bonelike texture to it, and put this on the lower right side of the view port.” He blurted.  The Tech reads the TIE’s new name, Stilus Equus, and gives Atrasin a puzzled look.  “It means ‘pale horse’.” He replied.  The Tech nodded and turned to his cohorts, they had work to do.
G’shlecc turned back toward the bunkroom, in doing so he had to swerve to avoid an oncoming runner.  It was one of the two younger guys in the flight. “I gotta get to know these guys – soon.” he reminded himself.  He could smell the food from the nearby mess, but decided against it. Sleep is what he needed now.
CM Gshlecc Atrasin/Nazgul 3-11/mSSD Atrus/1VENF/VEN/VE

Vacuus Ordo , Nex
                      -Without Order, Death
[This message has been edited by Atrasin (edited January 24, 2008 5:06:25 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Atrasin (edited January 24, 2008 5:08:06 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Atrasin (edited January 24, 2008 5:09:33 PM)]
Rustichituk
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Rustichituk
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 24, 2008 9:18:00 PM    View the profile of Rustichituk 
Rusty trailed behind Rogue and the younger fellow who was, apparently, a member of his flight as well.

Wow, he's just a kid. I wonder when he got here, and so short. The pups back home are taller than him... he thought whist M-TD buzzed around his head, beeping this and that at droids passing by.

When they arrived at the room, Rusty wasn't very impressed, but it would have to do. In fact, he was a bit relieved, because there were a few extra bunks, meaning that each of them could get their own bed. Rusty didn't like the idea of the new kid sleeping above him, for some reason. It took a while to gain the wookiee's trust, and the only one around here who had was Rogue and it would stay that way until others had proven themselves.

It only took the wookiee a minute to unpack. He didn't bring any clothes apart from the flight suit he was wearing and his bag just contained some snacks and some Cortyg brandy he smuggled in. No one ever wanted to drink with the wookiee because he always drank Cortyg brandy. And it wasn't the watered-down version for offworlders, either...Rusty would only drink the real stuff.

He was a wookiee of simple pleasures and needs. Food and drink was all that he ever really felt compelled to pack, apart from weaponry. He laid his bowcaster down on his bunk, but kept Ryyk blades secured on his back. It was a habit of his to keep them there as much as possible, a habit that he gained as a pup. With that, he turned around with full intention to talk to Rogue, but it seemed that he had already left.
How the bloody hell is he so sneaky? Rusty thought, Well, I'm sure not going to stick around here with the pipsqueak, I guess I should wander around the ship a bit.

Since it was the only place he knew how to get to, Rusty walked down to the hangar to find them repainting one of the Interceptors black with some lighter flecks to make it appear like space. The wookiee let out a hearty chuckle and pointed out to M-TD, "You know, whoever's getting that paintjob is a bloody fool. They think they're so clever, but just like the enemy can't see them, neither can their allies. Just think of all the extra crossfire they're going to have to worry about now..."

The droid just scoffed indifference and replied, "You're the only one I have to worry about, anyway. And it's not like it would bug me that much if you got yourself killed...you're the most difficult master I've had to date!"
The wookiee just chuckled some more and walked to the mess hall to see what they had to offer, which wasn't much. In the end, the wookiee went back to Flight 2's room and got out his jerky and poured himself some Cortyg brandy.

You know, now is a better time than ever...time to see if this kid is worthy of my respect.

Rusty poured two glasses and yelled over to the kid, "Hey, what's your name and do you wanna get sloshed one last time before the mission?" while jerking one of the glasses in his direction.
M-TD translated, Excuse me, what is your name? Please, come have a drink with me while we have the chance before the mission.
FM/PO2 Rustichituk/Nazgul 2-7/Wing 1 (Phoenix)/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=A=)
Lamel_Evas
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 25, 2008 10:14:39 PM    View the profile of Lamel_Evas 
Lamel and Trevor were sitting and talking when Lamel suddenly fell silent. Trevor noticed this and asked, "Lamel, what's wrong?" She answered,

"I don't know, I am just scared of being away from my friend Alyssa I guess. I don't think I should be so alone so much. I have been alone ever since I was born, My father I haven't seen since I was born. And I haven't seen my sister either. Do you think I'll be alright during this mission?"

Trevor smiles, "Of course you'll be alright, why wouldn't you be? I'll keep watch over you if that is alright?" Lamel smiled, "Sure why not? i need a person to talk to." Lamel nods her head and took a deep breath. "i need to go back to my bunk but am needing someone to talk to after i rest." Trevor nods some and was going to speak but the alarm signalling a fire set off again.

Lamel jumped a bit, "The hell?" She would instinctively run to her bunker trying to find the fire extinguisher when suddenly she noticed the loudspeaker come on, there was a man on the other end that said, "The fire alarm is intentional and it was a test to see what you all could do. If this were a real emergency, you would have gone to the higher decks. Remember this next time when there is a real emergency, Thank you."

Lamel would put her hand on her chest as she leaned against the wall of her bunker but she heard footsteps and turned to see Trevor again near her door. "Coming to make sure i was alright correct, sir?" There was a scared look in her eyes but as he locked eyes with her, she would have a twinkle in her eyes as the scared look went away.

Finally Trevor spoke, "Yes, i came to check up on you Lamel, I wondered if you were scared of the alarm, i mean did that sound startle you a bit?"

Lamel shook her head, "I admit i wasn't expecting it but it didn't scare me too much." Think Lamel and think on what you are saying to this man. She sighed a bit, "Do you think I'd be afraid of a simple fire alarm, sir?"

Trevor would shake his head, "No, i don't think you would since you had heard fire alarms before i guess."
May the force be with you - Yoda

Get this walking carpet out of my way! - Princess Leia
[This message has been edited by Lamel_Evas (edited January 26, 2008 1:23:06 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Lamel_Evas (edited January 26, 2008 1:33:23 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Lamel_Evas (edited January 26, 2008 1:34:56 AM)]
Rogue
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Rogue
 
[VE-NAVY] 2nd Lieutenant
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 25, 2008 10:14:48 PM    View the profile of Rogue 
A crewman from Thanatos crew showed each flight to there quarters once they were all out of their fighters. Rogue couldn't do anything but groan at the idea of the three of them in this one room. He staked a climb on one of the bunks by tossing his pilot's bag on one. He had left his helmet in the cockpit of his fighter, just in case they had an emergency come up during the nine hour trip.

Once his bag deposited, he turned around and left the room. He headed back for the ship's hangar area, but he didn't go to the main hangar. Instead he went to the secondary hangar where the transport carrying the squadron's extra gear had been docked. He had to provide his id codes and wait til the computer verified them before they would open the transport and release the equipment to him.::

With the help of the techs he had sent along on the transport, he went through the gear, making sure it hadn't been damaged. Then they started breaking it down from storage and shipping containers to portions that could be loaded into the small cargo compartments of the Interceptors.  He paired each of the six FC-1's fleechette launchers with a Stormtrooper Two carbines, and the 4 DC-17's with the 4 F3C flame carbines.

Each of the four cases of grenades was unloaded and counted into sets of three. Three grenades of each of the four types, would be issued per pilot. As for the half a dozen satchel charges, they would be carried by the members of flights one and two, since they had the job of destroying the corvette.

Once all the weapons were broken down and ready to go, Rogue found a datapad and typed out a message for Trevor about issuing the weapons. Then each bundle was resecured in the transport, and her cargo hatch sealed. Rogue then keyed the lock to a code only Trevor and he knew.  Then he left the hangar and headed for the mess hall. For some reason, he felt hungry again.

And I'm in serious need of a drink. Why didn't I both to pack a flask of Corellian in my stuff? Guess I could get a glass of that stuff Rusty used to drink. He always had a bottle with him. Its hurts, but it does the job.

He changed course and headed back to his quarters. He reached the hatch and let himself in, to find Rusty at their table with a couple of drinks poured.

"Looks like you knew I was coming, Rusty." Rogue joked.
XO/FL/2LT Rogue/Nazgul 2-5/Phoenix Wing/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE / [MC1][VC:B][SWC](LoT) [=TE=]
[This message has been edited by Trevor Evenson (edited January 29, 2008 3:04:09 PM)]
Trevor Evenson
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Trevor Evenson
 
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  RE: Nazgul Squadron: Search and Rescue
January 29, 2008 8:26:00 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
Trevor talked with Lamel a little bit more before excusing himself and wandering off. He needed to get to his own quarters and get some rest. The trip to Volek would take them about nine hours, and they would be leaving soon. There were few people in the halls, most of them having all ready taken their position in preparation of beginning to travel. As he was walking his thoughts drifted back to Tokijin, and although they had exchanged few words the night before, he still felt upset about the whole ordeal. It wasn’t very long until Commodore Darkhawk met him, and the two had a quick yet odd conversation.

Trevor couldn’t help but feel as if Darkhawk knew exactly what questions to ask, almost as if he was having his thoughts read. He left the conversation feeling somewhat reassured about Tokijin, yet at the same time he felt somewhat frustrated that Darkhawk wouldn’t let him voice his thoughts, and even more frustrated that the man had called Tokijin a liability. True, Trevor did not necessarily feel she was best suited to captain a ship, but his experience with her told him that she could accomplish the same feats as others.

He made a left turn towards where his cramped quarters were and plowed right into the body of another person, built similar to him although not quite as tall. The other man was wearing a black jacket over his uniform, one adorned with the patches commonly found on the jackets of fighter pilots.

“Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?” The man demanded, glaring up at Trevor and crossing his arms. The man had fiery red hair and under different circumstances could probably come off as quite a kind person, but Trevor instantly noticed an underlying anger.

“I’m heading to my quarters to get some rest before we arrive at Volek. And just who the hell are you, demanding things like that.” Trevor said, glaring back at the man, his grey-blue eyes flashing with his own frustrations. A nearby crewmember glanced at the two pilots and disappeared into the nearest room in order to avoid the impending conflict. It’s amazing how the smallest thing can cause a big scene. Trevor thought to himself as the other man thought over his answer.

“I’m Lieutenant Breeden, Devil Squadron Commander. You’re probably one of those cocky bastards from Nazgul. Taking up our hanger space, taking over what should have been our mission.” The commander spat, refusing to break eye contact with Trevor. Trevor nodded, then grinned.

“You bet. Nazgul Squadron Commander, Trevor Evenson, at your service. I don’t see how we stole your mission, but you know what, think that way if you want. I’ve got much better things to do then stand around here and argue with you.” Trevor finished, rudely shoving Breeden out of the way and walking past him. Breeden swung around fast as though he had the intention to chase down Trevor and punch him in the back of the head, but he took two steps and stopped, hollering after Trevor.

“Enjoy my pilot too, asshole!”

Following the outburst, Breeden turned on his heel and marched back in the direction he had originally been going, while Trevor looked over his shoulder in slight confusion. Enjoy my pilot? He thought to himself. What pilot?

Just as he had finished thinking the question to himself, his data pad made a beeping noise in his pocket. He withdrew it as he kept walking and checked the newest message he had gotten.

Commander Evenson,

You have one more pilot under your command now, Mel Krasznius. He’s a transfer out of Devil squadron, originally placed there but being transferred to Nazgul Squadron in order to fill out your ranks more. Feel free to fit him into your squadron as you please, just remember to send us a copy of your new roster for our records. Technically he’s green to the VEN, but he’s got experience from the Empire, so don’t underestimate him. Good luck on your mission, bring Admiral Riel back.

The VENA Training Staff


Trevor re-read the message and instead of turning to enter his quarters, headed towards where the mess hall was. If he was lucky he might be able to find his new pilot there, although he had no idea what to look for, as a personal file hadn’t accompanied this message. When he arrived he found it crowded, but not too noisy. He looked around for anyone with a pilot’s jacket and lucked out, there was one man sitting at a table alone, a black jacket marked with no squadron logo on. He approached the man and tapped him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, you wouldn’t by any chance know where I could find Mel Krasznius, would you?” Trevor asked the older man, who looked up at him with a pair of blue eyes and gave him a slight grin.

“You’ve found him. I take it you’re Commander Evenson?” Mel asked, standing to attention and saluting. Trevor returned the salute but noted that Mel didn’t allow himself to slouch into an ‘at-ease’ position commonly taken by most pilots when they weren’t having to stand at attention. “I was wondering when you’d come to get me. I’m ready and awaiting orders.”

“Well, Mel, we don’t have any actual orders yet, mostly because we’re still waiting to arrive. However, I thought I’d find you and let you know that you’re going to be Nazgul Eight, and you’ll have to fly your Devil Squadron fighter for this mission. I’m going to guess you’ve been briefed?” Trevor asked as Mel sat back down at his table and looked up at his new commander. The age difference was slightly startling and Trevor almost wondered how an active pilot would live anywhere beyond the age of 35 without great skill, but that bought him that much more respect for Mel.

“Yeah, they gave me all the details of what we’re doing. I’ll be using my own bunk for the rest of the time aboard, if that’s all right with you?” Mel said, hoping to avoid any cramped sleeping arrangements. Trevor didn’t blame him.

“Yeah, that’s fine with me. If I was you, I’d get a hold of my XO, Rogue, and figure something out for weaponry. I think we only packed enough for the squadron the left the Atrus, but I’m sure he’ll be able to sort things out.” Trevor said. Mel nodded and with the Trevor dismissed himself, grabbing a piece of fruit from a bowl near the cafeteria lineup and heading back towards his quarters. When he arrived he was fairly pleased to see that Iron Weasle and Nell had already crashed, while Jeg wasn’t there. I probably missed seeing him in the mess hall or something. Oh well, he’ll be fine. Trevor thought to himself as he climbed the ladder to an empty bunk and kicked his boots to the floor.

He swung his legs up onto the stiff mattress and did his best to relax. He hadn’t noticed it earlier, but the ship had in fact jumped to light speed, something that normally affected him in some way, whether a slight jolt and disruption of his thoughts to him actually being knocked to the ground (which had happened on occasion on some older cruisers with less then smooth transitions to and from real space.). She’s a real smooth transitioner, that’s for sure. Now it’s time for seven hours of shuteye, then having to deal with a cramped take off and almost certain death. Trevor thought to himself with a grin, letting his stress flow out of him. The best thing he could do for himself now would be relax before falling asleep. Who knows how cramped up I’ll be because of this crappy mattress. Trevor thought to himself as he shut his eyes and attempted to block out the sounds of the hallway, just beyond the thin door

OOC:
WC 1344. For everyone, just so you know, I’m going to talk to Darkhawk and figure out what day is good for him to arrive in the system, or if he cares. I’m hoping to be able to write us as reverting to real space on Thursday, but that’s if it’s fine with TFA. Keep up the good work everyone.
SC/1LT/Trevor Evenson/Nazgul 1(1-1)/Wing 1/mSSD Atrus/DEF/VEN/VE/(=*A*=)(=*SA*=)[VC:B][LSM][BRC][SWC][GWC][EoT:EC][LoT]

The VEN`s #1 writer as of ESC `06
Still the VEN's #1 writer as of ESC `07

Clearly Canadian!
[This message has been edited by Trevor Evenson (edited January 29, 2008 8:32:20 PM)]
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