The mood of the debriefing room aboard the Atrus was mournful, to say the least. Rogue was seated near the front of the room, staring hard at the holo-board display perched at the edge of the stage. He let himself sigh out loud as the rest of the squadron wandered in, their faces downcast, although he was sure that they weren’t all for the loss of Trevor. A few of the pilots had been close to Iron, and those were the ones who didn’t know Trevor quite as well. It wasn’t long before everyone was seated and well enough composed for the debriefing to commence. Shazam was there, standing off to the side of the podium, glancing down at his papers.

“Our first order of business is to congratulate you on a job well done. We found not only the information the Riel had been working on, but a few other important things that we find very helpful.” Shazam said, forcing a smile. A few images that meant nothing to the Nazgul pilots flashed across the screens, followed by a recording of the explosion. No one moved or blinked during the recording, all eyes that cared scanning for some sign of Trevor’s ship among the flames. The clip ended and Shazam once again stepped forward.

“The battle resulted in losses to both sides, far more to the pirates then to us. That doesn’t mean we didn’t lose good men though.” Shazam said, his exterior seeming to weaken a little bit. “We lost Iron, a young pilot who showed much enthusiasm and someone we had high expectations for.” He paused, catching Jegora’s eye. “No one is blamed for his death. On a worse note, we also lost.” He paused again, blinking his eyes hard and continuing., “Commander Trevor Evenson, a pilot who was well respected and looked up to by many. He had lead Nazgul squadron for quite some time, but not before serving under me for a few years. Believe me when I tell you that you are not the only ones suffering from his loss.”

At this, Shazam turned away from the squadron for a minute, silently remembering his friend and squadron mate. He turned back around, tapped his notes on the podium and was about to begin speaking again when a voice from near the door caught his attention.

“I don’t see what everyone is getting so worked up about.” A tall, blonde haired man said, his voice filled with calm and confidence. Slowly the squadron turned as they too heard the voice, and slowly a smile crept onto Shazam’s face.

“How come no one let us know you survived? You should have tried to get in touch with us as soon as you could have.” Shazam said, now being unable to hide his grin. Trevor folded his arms and shrugged, meeting his commander’s eyes.

“When I got aboard the Ferum Umbra I told them to get in touch with you as soon as possible. You’d think they would have been faster then this.” Trevor said, glancing out over the crowd of pilots who were gawking at him. As he finished speaking, a short stubby crewman shouldered his way past Trevor and dutifully walked up to Shazam. After whispering to him for a few moments, the man turned, gave Trevor a nod and shouldered his way past him again. This time Shazam couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Well, I’ve just been informed of some very good news. It turns out that Commander Evenson has survived the blast from the corvette and should be joining us shortly.” As he spoke the words, it seemed to lift some of the unrealness of the situation, and a few of the other pilots laughed as well. Even Trevor chuckled. Before Trevor could even say a word though, Shazam had turned back to him. “How did you do it?”

As the flames engulfed his ship, he began to speed forward. The shockwave that followed did the damage though, as he saw his right wing radiator panels be thrown ahead of him, heard his rear view port crack and watched the fuel lines to his left side engine be ripped right off the support pylon. As his ship was thrown through space it began to tumble uncontrollably, and with classic fighter pilot calmness he tried to turn on his emergency beacon. The light went green and flickered out, along with a few other lights across the board.

A very light hissing sound behind him told him that his cockpit was leaking, and as the tumbling slowed he pulled his helmet on and sealed his flight suit. The next thing on his mind was making sure his radio worked, and much to his dismay and expectations it too was fried.

“This is Nazgul One, repeat, this is Nazgul One. If anyone VE friendly can hear me, I’m on the far side of The Furious One and am in need of assistance. I have only one engine and my cockpit is losing pressure. Repeat, I’m in need of assistance.” He told the static in vain, hoping that someone would hear him. The next priority was to get control of the tumble, something he had only done a few times before. A few adjustments to the control yoke and playing around with the pedals was enough to do the trick. Slowly but surely the TIE calmed itself down, and he was setting a course for the corvettes that sat off in the distance. Already Nazgul Squadron was out of sight, preventing a much-needed rescue.

If only my radio worked, I could get in touch with someone, anyone, and tell them to hold off on jumping to hyperspace until I showed up. But my radio is dead and my comm.. My comm.! He thought to himself as he dug around in his pocket and pulled out the small communication device. Rather then try to contact Nazgul right away; he did his best to hail any of the corvettes.

“Task Force Alpha, this is Nazgul One broadcasting on all open channels. Do you read me?” He asked, and then listened patiently as his TIE limped towards the Task Force, remaining completely unnoticeable within the debris field. At first the comm. remained quiet and his fears seemed to be confirmed, but a few moments later another voice broke through the silence. It was somewhat broken up, but most of it was understandable.

“..Erum..ra here, how come y..are behi..Gul Squad..need assistance?” The voice came through, the broken speech getting better as Trevor got progressively closer. He thumbed the button on the comm. unit and repeated the word ‘affirmative’ a few times, trying to make sure that his message came through clearly. After he felt assured they’d get the message, he stopped talking and glanced around for Nazgul Squadron again. They had disappeared, alongside Devil and Viper Squadrons, and a moment later the Thanatos jumped into hyperspace, followed by all of the other TFA ships except for one.

“We’re staying behind to collect you, Commander Evenson. The other ships left before we could send a message, and our hyperspace communication equipment was damaged during the battle, but we’ll send a message across as soon as we can. You’re cleared to land in our shuttle bay. It’s small, but should do the trick.” The voice of the communications officer explained, coming through perfectly clear now that Trevor was closer. He confirmed that he had heard the instructions and made his way closer to the Ferum Umbra, keeping his eyes open for the incredibly small shuttle hanger. Upon finding it, he lined up his craft and slowed down, carefully and skillfully entering through the magnetic airlock and setting the craft down on its already shaky wings.

He hopped out and was greeted by techs he didn’t recognize, most of whom looked at his ship with shock in their eyes. He just chuckled. Most techs would underestimate the state of disrepair that a fighter could safely be flown back to a ship in, but Trevor could remember a few distinct times he had flown far worse then the ship he had just gotten out of. One of the techs approached him apprehensively. “Sir, Captain Denethor wants to see you.”

Trevor nodded and headed off to the bridge, where he was informed that they had jumped to hyperspace and that a message would be sent across to the Artus as soon as he was able to. Trevor thanked him and went off to find a chair to pass out in.

No one had said anything during the story, and Trevor was thankful for that. He knew he’d have to re-explain a few things later, but that would be later. Right now, Shazam was making an attempt to get their attention again and Trevor and the rest of Nazgul Squadron began to pay attention again.

“I hate to throw you guys right back into the loop again, so, for your pleasure we’re going to give you something a bit nicer. Report tomorrow to Training room B for your new assignment. You won’t even need to leave the Atrus.” Shazam grinned. He clapped his hands once and stepped away from the podium, dismissing the squadron. Most of them headed towards Trevor, but Shazam intercepted them. “Trevor, my office, now.”

***A Short, Silent Walk Later***

“Have a seat. I have something to tell you, and as awful as I feel for doing this..You need to know.” Shazam said, not meeting Trevor’s eyes. This alone was a shock to him, but now he had a feeling that he was going to regret following Shazam to his office. He played with a pen on his desk for a minute before looking back at Trevor. “Tokijin hasn’t yet been informed of the fact that you’re alive. She was informed to the contrary during the flight and apparently had a bit of a break down in her quarters. We made the wrong choice, but I’m going to tell you to do something that will be hard for you to do.”

Trevor sighed. So far he didn’t see the problem with simply telling her they had been wrong.

“We want to keep it that way for a while. We believe that your attachment to her is causing decreased performance in the field. You’re not taking risks like you used to, your confidence level seems lower since she stopped flying with you. Basically, we want to keep her from interfering with your flying.” Trevor sat, his mouth open slightly and his mind completely blank. He didn’t have anything thoughts on the idea, he just nodded along. Truthfully, he felt as though it didn’t matter either way, but he made his answer seem more hurt then it was.

“Yes sir, if that’s what you want to do. Hopefully I can bring my performance back up to the desired levels.” Trevor said, and Shazam smiled slightly.

“I apologize again, you’re dismissed. Lets go get a drink.” Shazam said, standing up and slapping Trevor on the back as they left his office.

OOC:

WC 1864 -  Feel free to have some fun. Everyone is welcome in this story, so lets have a good time with it.

Dante looked at his datapad and saw what time it was, well no way in hell I am making it to the debriefing it started an hour ago. Oh well all I needed to hear was that my wing mate/flight leader/squad leader died before I even met him. I wonder who would replace him, I hope it isn't some peepy bastard. He took a shot of his drink and ordered another one. He had just got back from a patrol with Joe and he had scored his first killing there. It was an intense battle, flying in between the asteroids and the high-g barrel roll at the end, he would not soon forget the fight. Damn these navy catinas have some nice drinks. He took another shot and lit up a cig, the perfect combination a cig and shots. I bet I die of these before I get shot down in the field. Dante smirked as he thought about it. He had left Joe after having a quick celebration with him after the debriefing on the patrol.

Before they went to drink and party a little Dante drew a black line next to his ship's name, which was printed on the side of the ship, to represent his first kill. He would put all the kills he made on the ship circling around its name at an angle. He figured it would soon be filled after hearing some of the stories about previous missions that the navy had been on. He was thinking about what his first real mission would be like, not that little taste he on the patrol. Would it be different or just like the patrol? Would he act the same way or differently knowing that he had a wing mate by him? Could he kept his cool in the true battle field where it would be chaos and explosions everywhere? Dante sat there silently and almost completely still pondering on these questions. He knew be wouldn't know the answers to any till he experienced them for himself, and he couldn't wait to find out.

He noticed a tall man with green eyes and brown hair that was buzzed down sit down next to him. His nose was a little messed up and Dante could tell it was most likely from fighting. "I will take one Corellian Ale," the man said as he sat down, he had a scowl on his face and looked like he was seriously ticked about something cause he body was all tensed up. Dante thought nothing of the man at first and went on to his third shot. When he put the drink down he noticed something out of the back of his eye, it was a navy badge. He didn't realize it at first because he was getting use to seeing them but the man was wearing a full navy uniform. When he looked closer on the badge he identified it right away.

"So you a pilot?" Dante asked not even looking at the man.

"Yeah whats it to yeah?" replied the man glancing over at Dante.

"Well your squadron is Nazgul, thats what" Dante said with a smirk leading him on.

"So is that a problem?"

"No its just I'm wondering if my wing mate is dead or am I getting a new one."

The man had a puzzled look on his face, "Huh what are you talking about?"

"Maybe you have heard of him, his name is Trevor, Trevor Evenson"

The man laughed, "So thats it, your another of the new recruits. You missed the debriefing..."

Dante interrupted him, "First it wasn't MY mission so why would I go to the debriefing, and second that wasn't answering my question." Dante took his fourth shot and listened for his answer.

"Trevor didn't die, he escaped barely."

"Very well, I'm Dante, Dante Devant" Dante said putting out a hand to shake.

"I am Roth" the man said shaking his hand.

OOC:

659 words for this post

Driver eased out of the briefing room a little lighter than he went in.  Lt. Evenson  was alive.  That fact had changed the entire mood of the squadron.  Jeg seemed to be reborn, his smile attempting to split his face.  Rogue was peppier, as was the Wookiee.  Lamel was happier too, but she had a sunnier look to her when she entered the bunker.  Wherever she went, it helped.  Several of the pilots were headed to the shipboard cantina for a couple of drinks to celebrate Trevor’s return from the Crimson Hells.  G planned on joining them, but first he had a comm to send.

  Atrasin popped through an open side door.  He logged in to the Comnet, and punched up Yulia’s number.  He hoped two things; one, that she'd answer, and two, that she wouldn’t kill him for forgetting to call the last few weeks.  Her number pinged.

  “Hello.” Came a flat, feminine voice over a black viewscreen.

  “Hey, sweetie, it’s me.”Driver chimed in a sacharine-tinged upbeat voice.

  “Oh, do I know you?” came a terse reply. 

  Oh, Shit

  “Baby, you know it’s me, I’m sorry. I’m an ass.”he quickly , and sincerely apologized.

  Atrasin sat in silence for a moment. Then he sat for another moment, and another.

She is really pissed.

  The screen on his comm unit slowly went from black to the form a very angry looking woman.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, however many times you need me to say it I’ll say it.”he quickly pleaded.

  The scowling visage of the woman suddenly disappated into laughter.  She doubled over, and came back into view with tears streaming down her face.  G’shlecc soon realised that he’d been had.

  “Ha ha, very funny.” He continued,”That was not good, I thought you were really pissed.”

  “I was.” She countered,”I also knew that you are an easy mark when I’m angry.  I almost milked it for a gift.”

“Grrrr, woman…”he trailed off. G knew he couldn’t stay mad at her, he also knew she had got him good.

  “OK, you’re off the hook, Bedav, commed me earlier and let me know you’d been on a mission. That took all the ‘pissed’ out of me.  Next time you go 8 weeks without comming me mister you’re gonna get such a pinch.”she half-heartedly scolded him.

  “Hah, OK,OK, sorry. The mission came up quick and I had to bug out of the Academy quick. I thought of you every moment, and missed you terribly.” he stated as he dropped his voice to a near whisper.

  Her features softened as she replied, “I missed you too.”

  “I wanted to comm you quick before I head off to my next assignment. I don’t know how long I’ll be, but I’ll comm as soon as I can. OK?”asked G.

  “OK, sweetie, I’ll be waiting.  I love you.”she stated, her eyes focused firmly on his. 

  “I love you, too. Bye”returning  the look as he thumbed off the comm.

  The screen went blank, and he put the unit away.  This was going to be the toughest part of the next few years, and he knew it.  The upside was that when he made officer, she’d be able to join him on base.  That, however would be a ways away.  He laughed to himself at the thought of him as an officer. 

  Hell, only been on one mission and I’m thinking officer already

He decided the best way to cure himself of his delusions was a tall, cold Correllian Ale, or several.  He had the credits, and the time, so why not.  G wandered over to the nearest information kiosk, and looked up the onboard cantinas.  Ships the size of the Atrus usually had cantinas and other recreation outlets for the huge crews needed to keep her running.  He dropped in his location and what he wanted, in a flash the kiosk pointed him to a cantina, only one deck down.

  He found a nearby turbolift and dropped the single deck.  There was a sign right off the lift pointing him in the direction of the bar.  The passageway was crowded  with Naval personnell, Stormies, and a few civilians.  He knew that these cantinas were contracted out, and to some degree considered “Off Base”.  This was until there was a fight, or some other altercation, and then you were firmly reminded you were on a Fleet ship.

  He fought his way through the crowded cantina, and made it to the bar.  This cantina had an actual person tending the bar.  Some of the Fleet cantinas had droids and dispensers, but this was a real, live, relatively surly, and definitely ugly bartender.  G’shlecc ordered a tall Correllian Ale, and the man skittered away to draw it.  Upon his return, G tapped in his ID and started a tab.  The barkeep moved to the next customer as G turned to scan his environs. It was filled with the usual suspects. TIE pilots on a break between missions, Stormies on standdown, and Techs going home after a hard day of cleaning up whatever the other two broke.  He looked for anyone he knew, but didn’t see his Flightmates yet.  As he was looking, however, he spied two younger men at the bar. They both had Nazgul patches on their sleeves, but he didn’t know who they were.  He took his pint and wandered over.

  The two men sat swiling their drinks. Both were tall and rail thin.  G’shlecc sized them up. The thinner of the two had a cybernetic  right arm. He looked distant, yet nowhere near as aloof and angry as the man sitting next to him.  That fellow was slightly more stocky than his compatriot. Not so much as to say bulky, but compared to the kid with the ‘borg arm he had some meat.  They both turned as G was making his way to them.  He could tell they were scanning him, trying to make out who, and what he was.  Atrasin arrived as they finished.

  “Hello, I noticed you’re wearing Nazgul patches.  My name is G’shlecc Atrasin, it looks like we’re going to be squadron mates.”he said as he extended his hand.

The ‘borg-armed kid spoke first,”Hi, I’m Dante Devant. Good to meet you.”

The other kid nodded, took G’s hand and said,”Roth Leber.”

  An awkward silence followed. Neither of the the two new Nazzies, nor G knew what to say.  Finally, Devant said,”We just came
aboard the Atrus, and have been waiting for you guys to return.  When did you get back?”

  “About 9 hours ago, did you see when the Thanatos rendezvoused with the Atrus, that was us.”informed G.

  Dante continued,”I wondered what was going on. We didn’t know when you guys were getting here, and they really haven’t told us much of what we’re doing yet.”

  Driver nodded,”Welcome to the Navy.  My orders for this mission came in a few hours before we embarked. I hot seated into a fighter, and was on a mission.  You’ll get used to it, from what I hear ample warning is something you rarely get.”

  Both of the noobs nodded.  The darker of the two spoke,”Well, I for one don’t like it. I’ve got better things to do with my time than cool my heels waiting for you.”

  G’shlecc looked at the younger man. He was wirey and had a mean look, but he also weighed less than his pilot’s pack.  G smirked,”Like what, you’re Nazgul, we’re Nazgul. You can’t do shit till we get back.  My advice is have a couple of drinks, relax and get ready for tomorrow’s training session.  Oh, and stay out of trouble.”

  The two men looked at each other, and smiled a knowing smile.  Confusion crossed Devant's face as he  turned to Atrasin and quiered,”What training session?”

“Didn’t get the message, eh. OK, go to Training Room B tomorrow. No idea what time, they wiil send it out, or just comm Trevor.”

  Dante then looked twice as confused and puzzled, and asked,”Evenson’s dead, isn’t he?”

  “Nope, very much alive, and very much going to kick our asses if we don’t do well in training. So drink up, but not too much.” G joked. “In fact, the next round is on me.”

  Driver signaled to the tapsman to bring 3 more drinks. He gave one to each of his new wingmen, they lifted their glasses and toasted,”To Nazgul, and to the Crimson Hells with the rest!”

OOC:

1401 words: how's that for character development?

The haze of the bar thickened; gossamer threads of light from the entry way peered through the rising smoke and the music ascended in volume.  On the end of the bar were three pilots, all beginning to feel the effects of their drinks and not particularly upset about it.  For nearly an hour now, Trevor, Rogue and Shazam had discussed, of all things, their first aircraft.  Usually these involved tales of mischief, so one member would go off on a tangent, taking time to set the scene and build up to a dramatic climax, and then all three would howl in laughter as the punch line was made clear.  By Shazam's story, the dark atmosphere of the bar, the background clangor and the hard whiskey was beginning to take its toll.  Though he wasn't exactly slurring his words, he knew that his threshold for alcohol was near and that it would take little for him to become a full-fledged drunk. 

"Gentlemen..."  he said as he lifted his glass mug, flipping it over so that he could peer into it's interior, examining for any remaining drops...  "I think it's about time I got goin..."  Trevor and Rogue groaned and patted him on the back-

"Awwwwwwwwww- c'mon, now..."  Trevor tapped twice on the counter, signaling the drink droid, but this was a mistake.  "What can I get ya, Shaz?"  Glancing from Shazam's disgusted face back to the bartender droid, Trevor quickly realized his error and signaled a "cancel" on his order to the droid.  The mechanical drink operator nodded curtly and returned to it's restocking job at the back counter.  "Maybe I can just get ya somethin..."  Trev asked, looking for a human bartender, but Shazam shook his head- the damage was already done.  When he was perfectly sober, he could tolerate droids, but once he'd had a few in him- there was no room left for the tinker toys... 

Turning before another argument could be made, Shazam stumbled somewhat for the exit.  Wedging his way between the inhabitants of the bar, he managed to find the door trigger; pushing the access, he was surprised when light didn't instantly flood into the bar.  Walking forward a few steps, the smoke already thinning out a little, Shazam re-discovered the entry way to the bar.  A short hallway led to the final door; as the port behind him hushed closed, the one ahead, with the rush of releasing air, separated and blinded him for some time.  Shazam was unable to move for a good minute, having to work up his bravery before venturing, posterior-first, toward the exit.  Hunched over, his butt the first to exit the bar's walkway, Shazam slowly turned his head toward the ceiling; the artificial light was becoming less bothersome now and the recycled air, which was usually his least favorite element on board ships, was suddenly a welcome change.

I need to get to a refresher...  He nearly slapped himself- I need to head to the training room for Nazgul's flight exercise in a couple of hours...  Shazam sighed at this, remembering that he'd offered his services to Nazgul's commanders; yes, he'd have to step in, now...  Perhaps I'll grab a quick cat-nap in between...  Shazam pondered on exactly how glad the squadron would be to see him instead of Rogue and Trevor as he made his way toward the nearest restroom...  It has been a while... he thought as he realized that he could, very well, be lost.  After all, this was not a part of the ship he'd ventured to in some time; in fact, it'd been close to eight standard months since he'd been this close to the Atrus's inferior surface.  While it would have been just as easy to head to a bar on the upper levels where the rooms could be easily accessed, Shazam thought it might be best to reduce the chance of running into fellow Nazguls by taking them to one of his border-line illegal joints in the bottom of the ship.  Indeed, the arrival of Trevor had spurred its own celebrations on the upper decks and it was likely that the other Nazgulians had found their way to the bar.  However, the Nazguls were not the only ones reveling on board the Atrus; since another mission had recently come to a close, support ships would need refueling, supplies and repairs.  It was not uncommon, then, to see crews from docked ships on board the Atrus, having either bought their way on board or been offered some special authority, extended, usually, to higher-ups.  Shazam wouldn't have been surprised to find that the majority of those other ships' personnel were, in fact, on the Atrus...

This is funny...  I don't remember my directional skills being this good, Shazam thought, as he found the access to a refresher.  Clicking the access, he needed only to take a few steps before he was confronted with, not one, but two women; two screams and another swish of escaping air later, Shazam left and entered the male refresher across the hall...  Never has been accurate- no reason for it to start now...

As he entered the male restroom, the commander noticed that the bathroom didn't, surprisingly, have that familiar smell of human waste.  He shook his head, whiffing away as he drew closer to one of the stalls, trying to designate the reasoning.  Usually, he thought, upon entering a refresher, he thought of dried urine sticking to old piping...  That wasn't true of this place.  Considering the bathroom was in the lower quadrant of the cruiser, this was extremely peculiar...  Stepping up to the stall and unraveling the mystery that was his belt and zipper, Shazam began the process of excretion, resting an elbow against the wall, thinking that he might begin whistling...  So he did...  Almost instantly he heard:

"Is something wrong, sir!"  Shazam nearly lost the only thing holding him to reality as he realized the reasoning behind the pretentiously clean bathroom.  Bathroom droid.  The mechanized man stood tall, gray and with glowing yellow eyes; a grate covered his mouth piece and a towel dressed his arm, giving him the appearance of a steward in the lobby of a restaurant.  He half expected the droid to ask him for "smoking or non-smoking..."

"No..."  Shazam stammered, still shaken by his own inability to sense the droid's presence.  "Nope- I'm just fine..."  The droid peered on; the commander's stream was no longer escaping- he'd frozen. 

"Perhaps you would like a towel or some music to make the excretion easier, sir?"  Shazam tried not to look at the droid but found it impossible to continue peeing while the droid watched, so he recipricated in the hopes the droid would stop. 

"No- I'm just fine...  Thank you..."  Pausing momentarily, the droid seemed to consider Shazam's nervous tone.  A few calculations later, the machine had turned from its crouched position to the bare wall; it reminded the commander of a gargoyle...  Shazam watched it for a moment, making sure that it had lost interest, before continuing the excretion process; I gotta get out of here, he was thinking as he resisted the temptation to whistle; well- to whistle for comfort, not of joy...  That's when he glanced once more to his left; his stream froze once again as he realized, in terror, that the glowing eyes see the glowing yellow eyes had returned.  But they were no longer just interested; rather, they were either mortified or amazed. If he hadn't known better, Shazam would have said the droid's jaw had dropped, and that he was perched in a gaze of gaping awe.  The droid neither said or appealed anything...  It just...  Stood there...  Watching...  Waiting for something to happen.  Does it want me to keep going?

"Could you not do that?"  He asked the droid; again, he'd have sworn the droid lifted a brow, because it's expression was almost as if to say "I'll humor you."  So the droid turned toward his wall again and Shazam resumed his tinkle.  Then the droid began whistling...

(I'm not going to dictate exactly what you folks are up to, lol- take this opportunity to develop your characters in whatever way you will, but don't feel compelled to reach the practice area; that's just an endpoint really- take some time to enjoy what your character has to offer.  And, if nothing else, just post- don't worry about making mistakes.  Thanks to all of those who have stepped up and posted right away: keep up the fine writing.)

Sits in a nice comfy chair with both feet up on the table with a few empty glasses next to his right boot while juggling around several round shaped fruit. He had no idea what kind of fruit it was, only that it juggled easy. When he stops he collects six of the seven pieces of fruit in his left hand and catches the last one with his mouth. A muffled voice says : "Tadaaah". While also waving his hands and fingers he realises just now that noone cares. Seeing a beautiful woman a bit further he decides to join. Only he doesn't have a gift.

"Gift ... gift ... What do women like? Flowers? Nah, too cliché. Chocolate, where am I gonna get that ? You know what, screw it."

His right hand disappears inside his pilot suit and grabs out a flask filled with quality booze, walks over, takes a seat and hands it over to her.

"So, what does a woman like you drink ?"

OOC:

Good postin folks- maybe we should meet up somewhere?

Back in his room, Shazam had one of those surprise shudders, the kind that one occasionally gets from taking a shot and makes him feel immediately less manly; he'd had to sprint from the refresher on the fourth deck to the lifts in order to have even a chance of making it back to his room.  That is, back to his room before he became completely soiled.  Now, in the privacy of his cabin, he relieved himself; a look of glee crossed his face as he zipped back up and combed his hair with his fingers. 

Walking, ever so casually, back to his single bunk, Shazam turned gracefully but landed awkwardly onto the bed.  As he turned to set his chrono, he became acutely aware of the strangest feeling; it started first in his extremities, but it quickly moved to his upper torso, and finally his head.  Suddenly, there was a sound...  Not a ringing necessarily, but more like a deep, echoing gong, and one that sounded from a distance.  And then a chord, a set of individual notes playing in harmony together...  The chrono had disappeared and, in it's place, was a woman.  Not just any woman though...  But wait a minute- I thought she...  No.  Or...  She's dead though...  Shazam could feel himself peering; then he became aware of another presence.  His movements, slower than he remembered them to be, rotated his head about and brought his eyes upon a man that, for certain, was dead...  Uncle?  The walls were no longer white, but had turned to a brick tone and appeared to have been constructed centuries ago...  There was a smell in the air.  It wasn't anything remarkable; no, it was something familiar.  Ozone.  Blasters?  Shazam looked down at his own hands to see they'd been replaced with metal replicas.  Oh... 

After he'd managed to figure out that the wound snake on the ground was actually his comlink, he called up an old friend...

OOC:

Sorry it's short- got carried away with something else, but this does a future post some justice.  Keep your eyes open for the next one.

The men took healthy slugs of their pints to complete the toast Driver just offered.  G noticed, however, that when he and Devant broke their drinks, Leber did not. In fact the young man downed his in toto.

  Kid’s a drinker, hope he’s not a drunk

  With the coming training session only hours away G decided this would be his last of the night.  He continued to chat up Devant as he sipped his warming beverage.  Devant seemed a good enough kid, wide-eyed and enamored with thoughts of adventures to come.  He was talkative and out-going.  The same could not be said for Leber.  He was brooding, moody, and at this moment drunk as all Hells.  G spotted the 3 empty shot glasses as he was stepping away from the bar.  Staggering away would have been a more accurate description of his movements.  His movement was interrupted by a voice from over Driver’s shoulder.

  “Hello there, gents. “Came a barely recognizable voice.

  G’shlecc turned to see CPO Fal making his way to the bar. He nodded his greeting, and proceeded to introduce both Roth and Dante to Jeg.

  Jeg motioned for G to follow and said, “G’shlecc, I need to speak with you.”

  Driver slid off his barstool and was about to follow when he heard Roth chime in, “Ah, come off it man. Let him drink in peace.”

  Kid needs to learn to keep his pie hole shut when he’s been drinking

Atrasin could see the instantaneous flash of annoyance sweep across Jeg’s face.  His eyebrow arched as he fixed a steely glare on the intoxicated young man.

  “This is none of your concern, Mr.…”he asked.

  “Roth, Roth Leber.” the man replied, pulling himself up to his full height.

  G noticed a sarcastic tone and a twinkle form in Fal’s eye as he verbally dismantled the new pilot.  As Roth stood there stunned, G couldn’t help but smile as Jeg handed him a datapad and said, “Congratulations on the promotion”

  Driver looked at the pad, and then looked again.  He fished out his pad and triple checked the message.  The smile dissipated from his lips as mouthed a silent curse and said, “Ah hell.”

  Jeg gave a half-smile and nodded. “My feelings exactly-“

  Just then an animalistic scream cut through the cacophony of the room. G and Jeg turned to see Roth hoist a man up by his shirtfront.  Driver watched as Jeg leapt at Roth, catching his arm before he could land the punch.  Dante sprang from his barstool and went back to back with G.

  Nice, I like the way this kid reacts

  The two men dropped into a defensive stance and edged toward other two Nazguls, watching the room for sudden movements as they went. G caught sight of the man Roth attacked nail Jeg with a pool cue.  Jeg shrugged off the blow, avoided another, and drop the man like a sack of Tubers.  He and Dante were holding their own as well.  Dante had dropped a couple of pilots that, G swore, had Viper patches, and he had himself sucker-punched a Barabel who looked like he was up to no good.

  The foursome had nearly gotten out of the hostile environment when he saw Roth dive into thee more pilots.  These three were definitely Kaphs.  Jeg waded in and started chucking bodies left and right.  Driver and Dante held a rear guard and prevented any more combatants from entering the fray.  G grabbed a pool cue and snapped it in half.

At least now I’m armed

  Another man, a Stormie, blindsided G.  The blow opened a cut over his right eye. Atrasin rolled with the punch and clocked the man on the return.  He saw Devant take on two other men, and Jeg drop a very large trooper with a combo groin kick/head knee.  Roth was nowhere to be seen.
 
I hope the little bastard flies better than he fights

  Driver continued to fend off several waves of drunken pilots, Stormies, and that damn Barabel.  Well placed cue shots dropped all but the Lizard boy; that took two.  The crowd continued to surge and ebb.  Sometimes he was alone, other times Dante was by his side.  Eventually Jeg found his way over.
 
  “What the hell do we do now?”He asked breathlessly.

  “Where’s Leber?”G returned.

  “He’s out cold over by the door. “Replied Jeg, jerking his thumb in the direction of the unconscious man.

  “Move toward him, quick!”He snapped.

  “Dante grab him,” G barked, “and get the hells out of here!”

  Devant picked up the battered body of Roth Leber and chucked him over his shoulder.  Jeg and Driver continued to fed off attacks from the angry mob as they followed closely behind.  G was the last to clear the door, and closed it as he left.  He knew that this wouldn’t hold them for long.  As the door snapped shut he pulled his holdout blaster and shot the controls twice, fusing them.

  Jeg looked at Driver and smiled as he said, “You know, it’s strictly against regulations to fire a blaster on board a Star Destroyer.”

  Wiping the blood from his eye, G turned to the younger man and replied, “It was a command decision, wanna put me on report?”

  Jeg threw up his hands in mock surrender, “Nope, not me, I didn’t see a thing.”

  “Good, cause now we’ve got to get the hells out of here before the SP shows up.  I don’t wanna get thrown in the brig on my first day of being a Flight Leader.” He halfheartedly laughed.

  Devant looked to G and Jeg, “What do I do with him?” He pointed to the lump of passed out flesh that was Roth Leber.

  “Find an air lock and flush him.” Snorted Jeg.
 
  “As appealing as I find that thought, the Empire spent a lot of time and credits to train him.  Take him back to your bunk, and keep him there. If you have to tape him to the bed, you have my permission.  Now go.” G waved Dante away.

  Dante thought about Jeg’s suggestion for a moment, then turned, nodded to G and started down the hall.  Driver stood for a moment looking at Jeg.  They were bruised, cut and tired.  He looked to Jeg.

  “Wanna get a drink?” he asked sarcasticly as they heard pounding on the cantina doors.

  Jeg looked at him, smiled a crooked smile, and said, “Not one damn bit.”

  G nodded and they made off in the opposite direction of Roth and Devant.

  Atrasin dabbed at his cuts as the pair walked and said,” That WAS fun.”

  Jeg nodded, “Yes, yes it was.  Let’s try to not have TOO much fun in the future, OK?”

  “OK.” chuckled G.

OOC:

1123 words -good fight, had fun.

Closing the eyes and offering a big smile towards the woman led to him letting his guard down and being vulnerable. And mere moments later a steel toe boot had found its way into his crotch, making for a very uncomfortable situation for the Zabrakian. And being strangled just right after wasn't really helpful either. Barely being able to breath or talk he murmured out some words.

"Nazgul ... Squadron ... me ... you ..."

While almost forcing the words out of his throat he points at the small Nazgul Patch sitting on his chest and on her shoulder. The woman immediately lets her grip go and Girias fell down, grasping for air while clenching his crotch with a smack as his head hits the floor, resulting in a small head wound.

"What the heck is your problem, are you PMS-ing enough to provide enough water for the entire Atrus or are you just keen on kicking men in their crotches ? I'd swear, it's like you were provoked into thinking I'd want to hurt you or anything like that. Tch, I swear, being a gentlemen is being more and more of a hassle these days."

Standing up he had almost recovered from the massive blow in his family jewels but was still standing with a broken posture and one hand covering his groin. When looking around he can see the woman regretting what happen but also alot of very drunk and very pissed people standing around them. Each clutching a makeshift weapon, a chair, a pool cue, a table leg, anything that comes off easy and can deal more damage than blows delivered from the fists. Yet the only words Girias could mention as he could see four, maybe five dozen pilots stepping towards them each wanting to drink their blood were :

"... Oh crap ... this is gonna hurt."

Realising that panicking is only going to make the situation worser than normally he stays calm, steps towards the woman and tries to hide her behind his body and accesses the Nazgul Squad Radio Frequency he had gotten when joining the squadron and filled it with short, calm though urgent messages.

"Euhm Nazgul pilots. This is Girias, Nazgul three, and I Miiiight have a slight problem with pilots from the other squadrons. I'm together with Nazgul, lemme take a looksie, ten and we're surrounded by a lot of pilots from Viper squadron, Kaph Squadron, and just plain people who seem to dislike us. I'd like to ask for some back up, or this is going to hurt pretty badly."

Seeing a small yet accessible path towards the door of the room Girias thinks quickly like a coward and maybe they can get their behinds out of here, as undamaged as possible. Grabbing a nearby chair with his right hand, that surprisingly light is, he takes Lamel's hand and pulls her after him, trying to get through the path. While walking through he swings the chair several times, knocking out two women and giving a man a heavily bleeding head gash. After finally reaching the door he runs towards straight in it and hits it with his face dead on, which would make him look like a complete idiot. Apparently he had been used to doors opening automatically. Cursing out of pain he tries opening it manually only to find that it's locked and barred from the other side, to trap innocent pilots inside. Turning around he can see the hordes of people just waiting to get a chance at kicking their asses and swallows the lump in his throat. He has no answer besides accessing his ComLink again and speaking a few sentences in it:

"Euhm sirs, about that back up. Can it get here really fast.As in faster than a speeding blaster bolt ?

OOC:

629

Jegora had just turned away from G’shlecc when his comlink started spouting static. Stopping in mid-stride he reached down and turned his frequency knob slightly. All of a sudden a voice could be heard. Jegora looked down and saw that he was on the Nazgul frequency. Quickly he took the comlink off his belt and spoke into it.

“Last voice, please repeat. Your transmission was garbled.”

After a moment of silence the voice broke back in, this time sounding panicked. “Uh, We’re kinda stuck in a bar with a bunch of angry gents and-” A large crash broke off the transmission and Jegora winced.

Turning back around, he saw that G’shlecc hadn’t gotten very far either. The older man had his eyebrows raised in a question. Sighing, Jegora nodded. “Let’s go,” said the younger man. Together both men headed back to the bar.

No more transmissions were forthcoming from the stranded Nazgul pilots, whoever they might be, and Jegora was starting to get worried. How would it look if on his very first day as Flight Leader some of his pilots got put in the infirmary? Swearing at the though, Jeg broke into a light jog, forcing G’shlecc to follow. Slowly Jegora picked up the pace until eventually his long legs were taking him back to the bar at full speed. Somewhere along the way he lost G’shlecc. He remembered hearing panting and swearing, but he put it out of his mind. In the lack-of-sleep induced haze that was clouding his mind, only reaching his pilots in the bar mattered.

Finally, after what seemed like twenty minutes of solid sprinting, Jegora reached the bar. He checked his watch and noted that in fact only four minutes had passed. Shaking his head, he through open the doors.

The scene Jegora found when he entered the bar was something completely new to him. He had been in fights before, but never something even approaching the size of the brawl he was witnessing now. There had to be over fifty men and women flailing around. The bartenders were nowhere to be seen, and Jegora knew that he had mere minutes to get his pilots out of the bar before the MP’s showed up. If that happened, they would ALL be in trouble.

Swearing for what had to be the twentieth time that day, Jegora plunged into the throng. Anyone who got in his path was met by a fist of a foot. At one point a man stepped in front of him wielding a chair leg, but Jegora never slowed. He was in a hurry, and he had no time for such distractions. With a single-minded determination he charged the man, taking him by surprise. The man was only slightly shorter than Jegora, but the young pilot had weight on his side. Wrapping his large arms around the shorter mans chest, Jeg began to squeeze. At first this had no apparent effect, but soon the man was grunting with effort. Suddenly there was a cracking noise, and the man screamed in pain. Letting him drop to the floor, Jegora continued on.

No fewer than a dozen patrons, both sober and intoxicated, had been watching the wrestling match. Any thoughts of confronting the young man in a VEN tee-shirt was driven out of their minds as they watched the dark-haired pilot crack his attackers ribs. Silently they cleared a path around him. All wanted a fight, but none wanted any injury.

Jegora barely noticed the extra room the people in the bar were giving him. He was tired, hungry, sore, and most of all mad as hell. If the fools in the bar wanted to stay out of his way, then so be it. He continued on, scanning the crowd for his pilots. He walked quickly, leaving the spectators behind. Now he was back into the midst of a crowd who had no fear, and he was going to have to fight his way through.

He came into a slight clearing where he was confronted by three men. All were smaller than Jeg, and all were very drunk. They were pilots, and by the looks of them they were new ones at that. They all had unfamiliar flight patches on their shoulders. Jegora stopped walking and surveyed his opponents with his cold gaze.

One by one he met their eyes. A normal being would have flinched under the hard gaze, but these three were so far gone that Jegora’s steel-blue eyes had no affect. Sighing, Jegora gave up trying to intimidate his opponents. He shrugged, and then he moved.

Years of strength training had made sitting in a TIE uncomfortable, but it gave Jegora other advantages. With tremendous speed and force he launched himself at the right-most man, striking him with his shoulder in the chest and knocking him to the floor. Jegora, unable to stop his weight, followed the man to the floor. His fall was cushioned by his target, however, and he rolled back up to his feet, standing once again with his hands up, ready to fight.

The other two men stood dumbstruck. The whole spectacle had taken less than ten seconds. Jegora slowly dropped his hands, realizing that the men weren’t going to attack him. He glanced down to the man he had charged. The poor soul was still writhing on the ground, unable to catch his breath. Turning his gaze back to the other two pilots, Jegora grinned. He took a step towards his two remaining attackers, and both fled.

Still grinning, Jegora carried on through the crowd. He stopped every now and then to scan the area, and then continued on. While not huge, the bar was big enough and full enough that it was going to take a miracle to find anyone. Cursing once again, he moved off, this time to his right. He continued on inn that direction for a while. He was confronted twice more, both ending in much the same result as the first attacks, meaning that his attackers were left extremely dissatisfied and often in pain.

Finally, after ten minutes of searching, Jegora saw a knot of people in one corner. Swearing, he broke into a sprint, knocking patrons aside as he made for the clump. He reached the knot of bodies and began pulling people off the top, throwing them out of the way. Eventually people began to notice that a large man was throwing their buddies, and they were pissed. They turned on Jeg, who now realized that maybe ten people was too much for him to handle by himself.
Jeg could think of only one thing to say. “Aw, shit.” Then there were no more time for words.

   

OOC:

1111, no joke