The cold tears rolled slowly down her face, her dark make-up smeared down from her eyes with them. She sat in her transport, staring out of her seat's window, looking down on her past. It was scarred, as was she- scars she hid deep beneath her pale skin- but for some reason she had that sense of longing, as if she'd never get her youth back. But the past can have her youth. She looked toward the future now. She looked forward a life of fighting for a purpose, instead of fighting merely for her miniscule life.
"We're ten minutes out." Strata Kain, the bulky Zabrak soldier- her savior- informed her as cold as ice.
She wiped her tears off her cheeks with her white cloth sleeve, which the streaming black make-up stained. Her blood-shot eyes finally stopped battling back the tears, and resumed their normal state. She adjusted up-right into her seat, trying to swallow back the feelings of negativity she seemed to always carry around like baggage. It was time to be tough, and after 21 years of having to live tough even when the world around her made her want to end it all, break down and sob all the liquid from her body, and end her life. She had to be tough. For what? What was there to be tough about? She'd often contemplate along those lines of life, it was one of the reasons she decided to join the Navy. She wanted a purpose. Some sort of change she could help make. And there was just this feeling in her chest she always had, as if a vibro-blade was stabbed through her heart and wouldn't go away. It told her there was something, somewhere. Now was the time to discover all of it. Now was the time for change..
The Academy"..but don't eat the Mon Cal special, it's a bit, shall I say, gloopy. Pretty much tastes like caf flavored oatmeal, you don't want any of that." Ibram Tyrol stated, a bit less jokingly than she would have liked.
She wasn't quite intimadated at everything, actually quite fascinated. All she's seen was the bunk she'd be sleeping in, the mess hall, and Ibram, but it still was so much.. so much more than she's ever known. She didn't think something like this actually existed, something so grand, with such a large purpose. She was intrigued at it all.
As Ibram and Naheed moved through the mess hall, a towering figure approached them. He wore steel blue eyes, and had to be well over a foot taller than herself. His muscles protruded from his body, his long strides let him travel light years faster than Naheed ever could, and his eyes were alluring to say the least.
"Ah, Naheed Simjee," Ibram began the introductions, "this is Jegora Fal. He's Second Luieutenant, and our Training Officer. He'll be overlooking your stay here at the academy."Naheed almost felt as if she weren't qualified to shake Jegora's hand, he towered over her and, if he felt the need, could probably crush her in his hand. She was surprised he wasn't a Storm Trooper, his body would suggest so. She did however, offer her hand, which met his.
"Nice to meet you Naheed," Jegora let out, "I'm sure you'll do well here."
Naheed offered a slight smirk, "I know I will."
Ibram nodded, "Good, you're aquinted, now Naheed, if you'll follow me."
The three saluted and continued along their respected paths. Naheed felt a sudden feeling of satisfaction. She knew this was the place to start her new life. A good place for change.
Later Naheed rang her fingers along the cold TIE fighter.. She'd seen them in pictures, but never up close. She's never felt them. It was smooth, icy to the touch. She awaited quite patiently for her training to begin, quite nervously as well. So many young pilots walked past her, also gearing up for their training. She had hoped she would, or could, fit in. Ibram walked past her, checking to make sure everything was in check.
"Time to hop aboard, you're up in five." He warned.
She nodded along, and pulled herself inside the craft. She felt like she had an intimate knowledge already of the Fighter, she had spent quite some time reading up on all the specs, learning and digesting all she could in her brief time on board. She clicked and prodded the controls, doing so a bit slower than an experianced pilot, one who would have their muscle memory at it's peek. She wasn't at that stage yet, she had to recall everything from the pages of the books she read, but was, surprisingly to herself, going quite smoothly.
She fastened herself in, and not only heard, but felt the rumble of the TIE's twin-ion engines come to life. Naheed did start to sweat a little, the nervousness was getting to her, but she remained calm, and reminded herself not to worry.
Deep breaths, Naheed, no need to sweat this.She made a quick double-check of all the Fighter's systems, assuring herself everything was running smoothly. She sent in her OK to Ibram.
"Alright, Jade," he began, "let's get this done. You'll go up, get a feel for her, and we'll throw up some enemies. Basic goal is to stay alive and show us what you've learned. I'll be in your head the whole time if you need me."
The hanger bay's doors opened, the dark night sky was lit by the countless stars and she somehow found solace in them. She's never taken the time to gaze at the sky, to be a witness to it's beauty. Now she'd be able to fly among the stars.
She was airborne. Take off had been a bit more smooth than she first anticipated. The fighter didn't feel too heavy, the titanium alloy hull had flown like a dream, and had let her feel in control. She sent in the OK once again to Ibram through the comm, informing him she was well enough ready for whatever he had to throw at her. And almost immediatly he did just that, two blips had popped on her screen, each enemie TIE pilots.
And this is where the fun begins.
Naheed flicked some switches, a bit more rapidly then she did at startup, and powered her shields to her stern, and began to ascend. She gained air speed, as her vessel climbed into the endless space. The two enemy TIEs followed after, trying to get into firing range. She reverted her shield energy away from her stern, conserving it for the engines. She was about to try a trick she had recently learned, the Immelman. She quickly ascended, gaining more speed while doing so, drawing the TIEs in to do the same. She climbed and climbed, inverting and breaking into a roll as. She abruptly lowered her speed, pulling up hard on the yoke as she turned her craft starboard, reversing direction, and rotating back again until she was now directly behind the two enemy TIEs.
Her targeting systmem locked onto the fighter on her right-hand side, she lined up her shot, and fired her laser cannons. The shot, were this not a training mission, would have landed and been successful. The enemy TIE aptly returned to base, albeit a bit more distraughtly, and now it was just one on one. And hew lone enemy decided to turn the heat up a bit, inlisting a few defensive maneuvers quicker than she could even read what they were in her manual. She fired up her ion engines
and tried to keep up, which was growing to be more and more difficult. Now was as good a time as any to show her skill, if she could. The enemy fighter ascended at low speed, then aptly descended like a surge of electricity. The fighter jerked right, rolled left, all while shifting speeds at an unpredictable rate. But it's movements were seemingly all mapped out, it was the same set of maneuvers over and over. She focused in as it ascended yet again, this time she neglected to continued high-altitued pursuit.
And her thoughts were correct. The enemy, not changing strategy with the knowledge of her not following the ascent, began to rapidly descend, and it did so into it's demise. As soon as it came back down to it's normal course, Naheed locked on, fired, and won yet again.
"Blast!" The enemy pilot yelled, "Good work trainee, head back to base."
Later, back on baseNaheed had been given a good bit of time to rest, shower, and take a trip to the mess hall after her training flight. She washed off, the cold water felt good on her body. The sweat she accumulated on her flight was enough to drench a bantha, and it felt refreshing to clean up, and to finally get into dry clothes again. She was still a bit nervous walking about, still having a feeling as if she didn't belong, since she wasn't
apart of anything yet. Sitting alone in at a large table in the mess hall also weighed down upon her, making her feel like some what of an outcast. One of the other pilots sat up from his table, gave a nod to his buddies, and walked in her direction. She peeked up, noticed that much, and looked back down on her food again, too nervous to smile.
He was somewhere around 6'0, give or take an inch, his neck length hair , jet black, beautifully covered the right half off his face, making him have to jerk his every once in awhile to get it out of his view. He sat down directly across from her, grinning like an idiot. But she thought he was cute. But what did he want? She wasn't in the mood to get hit on, even though she'd never think a soul would.
"It doesn't get much better than this," he stated, still grinning.
"Excuse me?" Naheed asked quietly, she felt as if she was a child.
"The food," he continued, "doesn't get much better. I thought that when I got promoted, this garbage juice they call meals would get better," he chuckled, "don't get your hopes up, you'll be missing Mom's cooking soon enough."
Naheed let out the smallest of smiles, coupled with the tiniest of chuckles, trying to show disinterest. The youthful, brown-eyed pilot reached his hand across the table, yet another nice gesture from people she'd barely even seen for two hours.
"Name's Gage, Phineus Gage. I'm a crewman for the Navy, just got back from a short leave, they got me training a bit to get the rust out." He was kind, and seemed to never let go of that smile. "I'm uh.. I was that jerky pilot you shot down, the last one." He sheepishly admitted.
She shook Gage's hand, her smile broadened a couple centimeters or so.
"So I take it your not that good of a crewman then?" She made a sarcastic remark to a complete stranger, something she had never been fond of. But she felt an odd warmth emanating from this pilot, a complete and sincere kindness.
Phineus laughed, shaking his head, "You've got me pegged." Naheed's smile once again grew a miniscule amount larger. "Look, I know you've got your exam to take, but after that, maybe I can show you around more than Ibram, his tours are, well, a bit vague."
Sarcasm, a smile that never faded, his aura, if such things existed, was a bright one.
She honestly wasn't sure what to say, and just let her mouth open and spew out whatever came to mind, or didn't.
"Sure," she managed to let out, quiet and never once passing eyes over to Phineus',
"I'd like that."
Phineus' smile, even though it seemed impossible, grew wider as he stood. "Cool, I have some people to talk to about getting reinstated and what not, but come meet me after your exam, room five-o-one."
The smiled at eachother, and he walked away, not dropping his smile. Maybe he was as nervous as she was, or maybe he-
"Trainee Simjee, please report to the exam center."
A droid announced over the intercom, cutting her thoughts short. It was time to let her book smarts unferl onto a piece of paper, which would determine her entry into the Navy.
Exam CenterHer mind was scrambling between questions, trying to recall as much as she could. Her heart felt like it was trying to break free from her chest, nervousness was screaming out of her pours, and she couldn't seem to get Phineus out of her mind. It came to be annoying, but his smile almost calmed her. She wrapped up the exam quicker than she thought she could, confidence began to over take her. This was it, this was the last step for Naheed to take to gain entry into a larger purpose. She couldn't help but smirk as she handed it in to Ibram. Everything went smoothly, or so she thought.
"Um," Ibram looked confused, "who gave you this test?"
Naheed looked twice as confused as he, "The training droid, is something the matter?"
Ibram rubbed his chin, "Well, this happens to be the older version of the test, you said the droid handed this to you?"
Naheed nodded.
Ibram released a deep sigh, as if it wasn't the first time a droid had fouled up, "Well, unfortunatley, I'll have to ask you to retake the test. The er, new version. Sorry for the confusion."
Naheed's smirk left, and she went back to her seat, and started all over.
LaterExcitement jolted throughout Naheed's body, she kept it down in herself, but she couldn't deny it. She had passed her test, for the second time, and was a clock's tick from being placed into a squadron, where her new life could begin. Energy had grown inside her, she even had to resort to taking a few deep breaths to calm it down. Phineus' wide smile wasn't quite helping.
He couldn't help but poke fun, "So not only do you take the wrong test, but you have to take the new one too!" He laughed at his own joke, which is something he did often, as Naheed had come to find out. It wasn't arrogance, it was cute.
"Ya know," Naheed felt confident to talk to him, secure in a way, "word around the rumor mill says that I finished faster than even the great Phineus Gage."
Phin laughed, "She's got jokes, folks, she's got jokes."
"Well c'mon, you can't honestly thing you're the only one with a sense of humor."
Naheed brushed his hair from his eye, "You know, they make eye patches, no need to count on your hair to cover it up."
Phineus nodded his head, smiling while taking in the punches and kicks from her jokes.
He liked her sarcastic humor, which matched his joke for joke.
"So, how long have you been growing that bantha on your face?" Naheed rubbed her hands against Phin's cheek, "Good for itches, huh?"
They shared a quick chuckle together, before T3-M4, Phineus' cheese-domed droid, rolled up sneakily behind them, and let out a soft, romantic 'whooo.'
"TK," Phineus' face grew red, "Shouldn't you be messing something up?"
The droid squeeled and aptly rolled off, as if it truly did have somewhere to go, someplace to be.
Phineus turned to Naheed, "Well this is where I leave you, I've got to talk to Ibram about flying again. Hope my tour was a bit more intricate then 'Bram's."
Naheed nodded, "Atleast I know where the latrine is," she half-joked, "Thanks though, it was fun."
Phineus began to walk away, backwards, "No problem, good luck in the sky, hope to see you there. Don't be a stranger."
She didn't know what it was about him, the friendly stranger she had now known for a good hour or so, his wide open smile, his gental kindness, or his sense of humor. But whatever it was, as she couldn't exactly pin-point it, it had given her a sence of belonging she hasn't felt in years. It wasn't just Phineus. Everyone she met was so kind, aside from a cocky pilot or two, they had all been warm and welcoming. Maybe the Navy was the perfect place for her, the family she's longed for for years. This felt like the feeling others had talked about around her, the feeling of being accepted when no one even really knew you. First impressions said a lot, as the story goes, and her first impression of the Navy- it's brass, even it's droids- made a great impression on her. She felt good, warm. But it wasn't the first time, and last time, it got her in a lot of heartache and headache. Should she trust this feeling, or clutter it deep within herself? It wsa a question she'd just have to learn the answer to, no matter how long it took. This was her life now, as in Imperial Naval pilot. Her home was the Attrus, her bedroom was a TIE. Her purpose was to serve the empire now, to help further extend their reach across the galaxy. Her family was not only the Navy, but the Storm Trooper Corps as well. They had to work together to form a strong, family-esk bond that would serve as the key stone in their goal. This is what she's been waiting for, searching for unsuccessfully her entire life, until now it seemed.
Naheed layed on her back, in her bunk, on her bed, as she contemplated the day away while staring at the steel-blue ceiling. She was ready to make something of herself, to become something. Someone. Her identity would no longer only be known to spice dealers and low-life mooches bent on destroying themselves with death sticks, no. Naheed Simjee,
Jade, would be known as an amazing pilot whom helped the greater purpose. She'd gain a family, friends. The core subjects she needed most in her life, yet failed every time she attempted to find such things. But now, she wondered if she had found it. Either way, she was ready to get flying, to get living. It was time, time to start her new life.
"Naheed Simjee," an announcement droid metallically droned over the intercom, "please report to Jegora Fal for Squadron placement..."
