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Topic:  Tuk'ata: The Beginning
Hunter-Morrell
ComNet Marshal
 
Hunter-Morrell
 
[VE-NAVY] Warrant Officer 1st Class
[VE-VEEC] Word Slinger
 
Post Number:  1541
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  Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 23, 2010 10:04:13 PM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Hunter leaned on the edge of the building, the breeze ruffling his slightly shaggy hair. While he seemed to be looking off into the sunset, his mind was on something else entirely. Recently, everything had been going quickly, almost too quickly to keep up with. First off, the Lehon catastrophe. He remembered every detail of that mission, from the squadron mates he had lost, to the carnage and destruction that still floated in that area of space. All of those people that had been aboard the Ferrum Umbra when it had nearly been blown to pieces, floating in space lifelessly after they were sucked out of a breach. He had seen them, each and every one of them, just floating around. Shuddering, he tried to wipe the image from his mind, but couldn’t quite make it disappear.

The losses during that mission were astounding, for both sides. Before then, if someone would have told him about that mission, he would have laughed in their faces. No way something like that could happen to Phoenix Wing. We were the best. Yet it did. And Hunter knew who he blamed. Geordie Atrasin. Deep down, he knew that it wasn’t Atrasin’s fault, that the man couldn’t have foreseen the events that would take place, but Hunter didn’t care. He didn’t even know why exactly he blamed Atrasin, other than the fact that he needed some outlet for his anger. Maybe it was the whole situation with Ibram Tyrol. He had been there and while he may not have seen the whole thing, he had seen the wreck that had been Tyrol’s fighter. Even from the distance that Hunter had seen it from, there had been no mistaking it. To any other person, it would have seemed like there was no way Tyrol could have survived, but Hunter knew better. He didn’t know how he knew, but he knew.

He sighed and closed his eyes, burying his face in his hands. The last week had been hard on him. A massive cover-up had occurred, replacing the whole Phoenix Wing with Javelin Wing and each squadron with another, new, squadron. Nazgul just simply didn’t exist anymore, and that was what irritated Hunter the most. All that Nazgul had done was just gone, erased from the annals of history. Not only had Nazgul been replaced with Tuk’ata squadron, some of his old FMs had been swapped out for new pilots. Now, he not only had to deal with the hassles that came with organizing a brand new squadron, he now had to evaluate the new pilots and see how the fit into the squadron and how they meshed with their wingmates. Not only did he have to do that, but he also had other duties in the Naval Academy and the Logistics Department. Something had to give. He just couldn’t deal with this.

He knew it was time for a change. Before the Lehon mission, he had lazed around and basically neglected Nazgul. No more. Change begets change. The squadron changed and so had he, though he still had quite a bit together. Removing his hands from his face, he finally realized exactly where he was and what was before him. From his vantage point, he could see quite a distance, nearly to the edges of the city. It was amazing and breathtaking and, for just a quick moment, he forgot all the trials and troubles that lay before him.

OOC:
WC: 574

Guys, its strictly a Character Development (CD) story. So write whatever you want to write because its not bound by mission objectives or anything like that.
IG88719
ComNet Novice
 
IG88719
 
[VE-NAVY] Crewman
 
Post Number:  51
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 24, 2010 4:48:53 PM    View the profile of IG88719 
IG-88/e was thinking in his barracks. Much had happened since he joined the Imperial Navy. He had made it through training pretty fast, and was assigned to a squadron. Then there was the change over to the Tukata Squadron on his first mission. His good friend Searchboy had run off and wasn’t heard from since. Everyone had thought he had been put into reserves, but IG knew that he had deserted. Things were accelerating even quicker than a droid of his intelligence to keep up all the way. He spent much of his time processing this information. The only communication that he had received from Searchboy was a message left over on his comlink telling IG that he had left. IG had yet to report his whereabouts. He was nervous to do so because he had heard stories of what had happened to deserters. He felt that he had that obligation one way or another. He stood up and headed out the door.
    IG left the temporary shelter and looked around. The sun was going down, casting bright oranges and pinks across the clouds. He took off across the courtyard thinking back to what might happen if they found him alive still. Searchboy could look after himself but he just wasn’t much of a people person. If he was still alive, coming back to the Navy might actually keep him out of trouble.
    After some searching, it was apparent that Hunter was no where in the establishment. IG pulled out his comlink and buzzed Hunter. It took a while, but he finally answered.
"This is Hunter."
“Sir, I have something I wish to report.”
“What is it Scrapheap,” He finally responded, trying to sound like himself. He clearly sounded distressed.
IG considered it for a moment and said, “Sir, Flight Member Searchboy, who was a friend of mine, has deserted the Imperial Navy.”
Hunter was silent for a time and finally asked,” How can you be sure?”
    “He left me a message saying that he was leaving.” IG waited tensely wondering how Hunter would react to knowing that IG had held this information for a while before coming forward with it. Hunter was silent and IG was getting tense waiting for a reply.
   
OOC:
373
All right I need Hunter to reply so I know how he feels. Searchboy has actually deserted.
IG-88 E First Imperial Fighter Droid 

FM/CRW Scrapheap/Delta 2/S:137 "Nazgul"/W:1 Phoenix/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE

"I think, therefore I am. Therefore I will propogate. Therefore I will remain. I destroy, therefore I endure."
[This message has been edited by IG88719 (edited February 25, 2010 12:56:02 AM)]
Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lt. Commander
 
Post Number:  826
Total Posts:  860
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 24, 2010 8:49:25 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
OOC:
Where are we anyway? I may have missed it but I don't think you specified. My next post will be a bit more detailed as to surroundings.


It had been years. If not, it seemed like it. The quarters looked the same though. Of course, they all would, being militaristic and unsurprisingly Imperial. Doesn't matter where you go, he thought, it's all the same. Grey walls. Darker grey floor. Darker grey ceiling. Or some such colour scheme. Grey grey grey..

His new quarters were sparsely decorated. A few tributes to what he had been depressed to find was the former Nazgul squadron, and a small cork bulletin board that housed few items of interest. His reinstatement letter. A letter from the new Commander-in-Chief, telling him how glad they were to have him back on board, with a stamped, not signed, signature. He didn't blame the NCC of course, he was a busy man and although one of the VE's most decorated and skilled pilots had returned to service after a lengthy psych leave and a stay in rehab, he couldn't be bothered to welcome him back in person or take time to compose and sign a letter.

If one were to have entered the room at that moment though, their gaze wouldn't have shot to the walls of the room, or the Nazgul emblems or banners. The bulletin board wouldn't have caught their glance, although one might be tempted to cast a quick look at the black, standard issue Imperial fighter pilot helmet sitting on one of the shelves, bearing the symbols of Nazgul and Squadron Commander.  Most people would find themselves looking at a half naked man, finishing getting dressed after a mid-afternoon shower.

Trevor Evenson was not the type of man to stand out in a crowd, being a solid 6 feet tall, despite what any other records of him may have said. He was blonde with hair that fell past his ears, in need of a cut in his own opinion. Slim, stylish glasses were affixed to his face, and his stubble was going on its third day. His thin body was toned but not muscular, typical of someone who relied primarily on their job to keep them as fit as they would need to be. He still was showing some signs of muscularity after his stint in rehab, where he pushed his body to the limit daily trying to burn off his excess flab brought on by drinking. This muscle was atrophying though, and to no complaint of Trevor. He thought it looked odd the way it was.

He glanced at himself in the mirror quickly before pulling a slim fitting white t-shirt over his head and giving his hair a shake. It was faster than combing it properly, and he couldn't be bothered on a day off. Some of it covered the scars on his face, a few were exposed. None made him particularly bad looking, rather, they seemed to make him distinguished. Dignified, almost. Handsome, definitely. His skin was a light tan from exposure to many different suns, and his hair was almost bleached because of it. Beneath his glasses, his blue-grey eyes still had a sparkle to them. Mischief, life, vibrancy. Despite the fact that he was in his late 20's, many would have mistaken him for much older. He looked closer to a well aged 35.

In his opinion, it was the flying that made him that way. The g-forces pushing and pulling on his body in ways that many men couldn't withstand. The injuries and the pain that came with them had, in his opinion, made him stronger and more resilient to further injury. What hadn't killed him made him stronger, and there were a lot of things that hadn't killed him.

His intent was to meet the commander of the new squadron, Tuk'ata, at some point today, and imagined formality would not be stressed. Not between two pilots of the same former squadron. He couldn't remember if they had flown together, possibly because of the time it had been since he had been in active duty, or possibly because of the damage that alcohol consumption had done to his memories. His memory itself was intact and sharp as ever, but the past was a blur to him. He remembered names, faces, comrades, battles. But placing a specific name to a specific face and battle was something he had trouble with.

He hoped formality would not be stressed. In his opinion, one didn't need to dress fancy to fly fancy. He had dismissed formalities as something excessive and unnecessary for as long as he could remember, including during his time as commander of Nazgul. He was on a first name basis with all of his pilots, and if he wasn't, he sure tried. He was even on a first name basis with a few of his own commanders, but with the ones he wasn't he made sure formalities were observed appropriately. He had never wanted to be observed as one of those commanders who was stuffy and all work, no play, but he couldn't have gotten the rank and recognition he did during his past service by being no work and all play.

A quick check of his clothes once more and he felt ready to go. It was a clean simple look, aiding to the fact that he didn't stand out in a crowd. A white t-shirt and blue jeans with a few tears caused by working in them.

During his days as a pilot, and before that as well, Trevor had taken pride in his ability to repair and modify his fighters. While many pilots left their fighters to the techs after a battle, an equal number had realized that the techs tended to forget things, or skip over things during inspections, or, in extreme cases, make problems worse than they originally were. He had remembered one time in particular when he had left his fighter in the hands of a particularly inept tech and found during his pre-flight inspection that almost all of his primary emergency systems had been left inoperative. After this he had made sure to have all Nazgul pilots double check their pre-flight checks, and strongly encouraged them to do all their own work on their fighters. Whether this tradition was going to continue with the new squadron, he didn't know. He planned to uphold his reputation as a jack of all trades, regardless.

My reputation... What reputation? He thought. I probably disgraced myself, the way I left. I'm sure that the commanders covered it up. Told them different reasons for my departure. Lied to preserve my honour, the little of it I had left. He stared at his own eyes in the mirror, before dropping them and looking at his brightly polished boots. I'm new to this squadron. I'm new to most of these people. I almost wish I was new to this Empire. I have no reputation beyond a rank and a dusty folder in some official's drawer. Sure, the articles exist. The ones praising Nazgul, with me as a small part of the squadron or commanding it. But who would have read those. The most I could hope for is that the legends had passed on. The ones of our battles, our hard work. Glory days, they mean nothing to some of these young hot shots. So be it. I'll build a new one.

With that thought in his head, he spun on a heel and hit the access for the door, opening into a dull, but highly polished grey hallway. It was filled with the sunlight from outside from one of Abrae's signature clear skies. He strode down the hallway and stepped through the automatic doors of the barracks, the bright sunlight enveloping him. It felt good to be back.

OOC:
WC: 1282. A bit short for my liking but I didn't want to run away with things.
FM/LCM/Trevor Evenson/Unassigned/Unassigned/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!
Amacuse
ComNet n00b
 
Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
Post Number:  16
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 24, 2010 11:03:43 PM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden sat on his bed, looking back on his life.  I once was a prince on Onderon... now, I'm nothing more than a Leading Crewman in a fractured Imperial Navy... but an Imperial Navy that can be made stronger than before.  He stood up and looked in his mirror and smiled.  He straightened up his uniform, then stood at attention.  Why do I wear this uniform?  I'm not on duty, nor am I required to wear it.  But... I do look good in it... and I'd feel naked without wearing something "formal."  Cayden looked at his desk, and saw three things: his flight helmet bearing the insignias of both the Empre and Tuk'ata Squadron, a letter from Squadron Commander Hunter, and a pistol.  He grabbed his helmet and placed it on his bed, right next to his flight suit.  He then grabbed his pistol and secured it onto his belt.  Just in case... I hear these guys can be a little rough...

Cayden looked around the room again.  His bed sat against the only window in the room, overlooking the city.  Right next to the bed was a table, on which rested his private datapad and his service log.  On the opposite side rested a desk, on which rested his helmet and the letter.  Above the desk, on the wall, was the mirror he was looking in a few minutes ago.  He walked over and looked out the window into the distance, watching the setting sun create a beautiful sunset on the horizon.  Onderon... how I miss thee so... but I had to leave thee, and come here.  I have a destiny elsewhere in the galaxy... its here in the Vast Imperial Navy, serving on Tuk'ata Squadron with the best pilots the galaxy has to offer.  A TIE flew by his window, and Cayden smiled.  Just wait... soon, you'll be behind the controls of one of the finest vehicles ever produced by Sienar Fleet Systems

Cayden walked over to the table, grabbed his datapad, and access the Hononet network.  I wonder whats going on in the galaxy...  He scrolled through several uninteresting political articles about the Old Galactic Empire's political system and how they (New Republic politicians) have a better government than the Empire, scrolled through several articles on disasters in the Outer Rim, and then stopped when he hit an article about Onderon.  The headlines read 'CIVIL WAR IN ONDERON: NEW REPUBLIC SENDS AID TO ROYALIST GOVERNMENT.'  Cayden read the article, then dropped his datapad on the bed when he hit Onderonian obituaries... one of them his father, Dorn Tavers, acting General of the Royalist forces.  A memorial video on his father's death played.  "As many can see behind me, the honorable General Dorn Tavers died in the line of duty protecting Queen Kira from Imperialist forces yesterday when they assaulted the Palace, intending to depose Queen Anora Kira from the throne.  Some of the locals speculate that it was the disappearance of his oldest son, Cayden Tavers, that led to his untimely death.  This is Morgan Hull, signing off."  The datapad went black, and Cayden walked back over to the window, and looked out onto the city below.

He sighed, walked over to the bed, and shoved his flight suit and helmet into a duffel bag.  He picked it up, walked over to the door, and hesitated before he opened it.  So... are you ready for this?  Are you capable of killing people, even though you won't see their faces as they die?  He looked back at the window, then nodded.  Of course I can, otherwise I wouldn't be here.  He smiled, opened the door, and stepped out into the hall.
OOC:
WC: 613
I tried to explain a little bit about his past on Onderon, before he came to the VE... I hope I did it alright
Leading Crewman Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/LCW Amacuse/B-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Phoenix/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited February 27, 2010 8:43:24 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited February 27, 2010 8:45:25 AM)]
Rocketman1167
ComNet Cadet
Imperial Baronet

 
Rocketman1167
 
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 2nd Class
 
Post Number:  209
Total Posts:  533
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 27, 2010 9:50:43 AM    View the profile of Rocketman1167 
After Rocket spent two days in the med bay to make sure that nothing was wrong with him, he decided to wind down and went to the nearest bar that was around, along the way his head was pictures of the last battle and that all of the pilots lost, and of all the people that had died on the ships that had come to try to help them against the NR.

Well at least the battle was a draw they should have made a battle strategy before we left at least we could have known what was out there, so that we would not have been as ill prepared as we where oh well that thinking is above my pay grade the higher ups know what they are doing I would hope.

Rocket gets to the bar and takes a seat in the far side so that no one would bother him so that he could think about the events of the last mission more, and also the fact that he was still off until the Squadron got called for a mission. So Rocket ordered the heaviest liquor that they had and asked for nine shot glasses.

Just in case if I know Hunter though him and the rest of the Squadron will end up here eventually since it’s the closest one to the our meeting room, well time to think about how the NR was so organized how the hell did they get a force like that together so quick they must have been there for something probably  to try to win the planet over to their supposed alliance they have. Know that I think about it I should look at the new roster to see if anybody besides Hunter is with here.

Rocket pulls out his datapad and checks the roster well most of what’s left of Nazgul is here well that’s a good thing at least. Rocket puts his datapad away just as the bottle comes Rocket thanks the waitress and opens it and pours himself a shot, and takes it down wow that’s some good stuff not as good as green stuff though. I wonder if they got rid of that to.

Rocket starts to look around the room to see if there is anybody that he might know someone in the bar. After scanning the room for a little bit he notices that most of the people in the bar are mechanics, great that just what I wanted to deal with right know is a room full of gear heads well I can’t say that because I work on fighters to hopefully they won’t notice that I am a pilot and try to start something cause I don’t feel like going in the brig on my day off I can understand just before a mission or right after one but it’s been four days for fraks sake. I wonder if any of them have been working on my tie speaking of that I really did a number on that three major systems dead lined I wonder if it can be repaired.


OOC:
517 Words just to get me started off.
There are many aspects of the Force we have no knowledge of. The subject still requires further research and study.

Imperial Network Star Wars Image
 
FM/PO2 Rocketman/A-2/S:26 "Tu'kata"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(MC1)(NSR:H)(NT:H)(BWC)(NSR:1)(=A=)


Rocketman's VE Profile:http://www.vastempire.com/wiki/index.php?title=Rocketman
Summit
ComNet n00b
 
[VE-NAVY] Senior Crewman
 
Post Number:  22
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 28, 2010 10:47:40 AM    View the profile of Summit 
Saul sat on his bunk thinking back on the past few years. All of the places he had been, all of the people he had met … the people who died, and even some of the people who died by his hands. He had made choices throughout the years, done what he believed was right; though in the end the result was not worth it. He thought back to his time on Corulag, his early life and time in the academy. The change from that was a good thing, Saul needed it.

The door to the room slid open, a woman walked in.

“Crewman Aquila?” the man said, obviously looking for Saul.

Saul was initially reluctant to answer, until he noticed that the woman was a superior officer.

He jumped off his bunk, and saluted. “Yes, Ma’am!” he said.

The officer pulled a folded parchment out of her jacket, “You have new orders. Report to Conference room Lambda at thirteen-hundred hours tomorrow.”

“Ma’am, can I ask what for?” Saul said, confused about these “new orders”.

“Take this, it will explain.” The officer said as she handed Saul the neatly folded parchment.

Saul confused and wanting to know took the paper and began to read it.

“You are hereby called to appear before the …” he began to read, sometimes out loud sometimes to himself, “for the charges as follows; Dereliction of duty, destruction of Imperial property, taking extended leave without approval, failure to report to duty post, attacking an Imperial spacecraft - and possible future charges of conspiracy to commit defection, as well as defection. Failure to report to the preliminary hearing will result in charges to be placed, as well as a warrant to be put out for your arrest.”

Saul was in shock, and the officer saw that, “Yeah… it looks like you have got your bollocks in a blender.”

“The VEN is having me charged?” he asked.

“No, the Imperial Remnant is having you charged. They are demanding that the Vast Empire turn you over to them. Apparently you did a good job of ticking off the Remnant.”

“So what, I have to find an Advocate and appear at this hearing?”

“Half right; yes, you have to appear at a hearing, but as far as an advocate … you’re looking at her.”

“Oh! Sweet!” Saul said, happy that he didn’t have to go look though the holo net for one.

“Lieutenant Tamara Norberg” She said, as she put out her hand.

“Saul Aquila.” He said as he shook hands.

“So then I believe that we should begin with background about this. What connection do you have to the Remnant, and on what grounds have they formed these charges.”

“I have no connection to the Imperial Remanant. Before joining the Vast Empire, I had been avoiding contact with Imperials.”

“Why is that?”

“Years ago I was a graduate of the Imperial Academy on Corulag. I was the leader of my fight, and graduated a lieutenant.”

“Ah, I see where this is coming from. The Remnant must have recovered records from the academy showing that you are a graduate that never reported for duty.”

“So then what, they found out that I am with the Vast Empire, and decided now to charge me?”

“We’ll have to see. I will go back to my office and begin to dig up information on this, I’ll contact you when I find something.”

“Sounds good.” He said and then stood up and saluted. “Ma’am.”

“At-ease.” She said, then turned and left the room.

OOC:
590 Words. Wait... I just made a post on a Story    o_O
Senior Crewman Saul "Summit" Aquila
FM/SCRW Summit/B-2/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=*BAE*=) [SoA]

Imperial Network Star Wars Image
Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lt. Commander
 
Post Number:  830
Total Posts:  860
Joined:  Aug 2005
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 28, 2010 1:54:01 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
Abrae, was, as it always was, bustling with Imperial activity. At the ground level many of the recruits could be found, either enjoying leisure time between classes or rushing to them. Ground level speeders were also around, most painted Imperial Navy colours and shuttling around mid-level officers. If he so wished, he could be driven around in one of these, but something about being chauffeured made him feel less independent. He had his own personal speeders, a small collection of them, and preferred to drive those around if the need for rapid movement arose. Otherwise, walking suited him just fine.

Just above ground level were the low level air speeders. Ranging in altitude from 25 to 75 feet across three different levels of traffic, this was primarily personal speeder traffic as well as emergency craft, such as Military Police or Med-shuttles. These lanes were mostly empty, because most of the recruits were too poor to afford personal speeders, and most officers preferred to be driven around. Occasionally you'd spot the more luxurious speeders of Imperial politicians or upper class citizens. Abrae, although the primary training ground for the Imperial Navy, was also home to many Imperial citizens with no affiliation to the Navy.

The level above that was reserved for high altitude, high velocity speeders, Again reserved for emergency craft in extreme rushes, or for any speeder which had a primary operating altitude of 100 to 500 feet. Capable of speeds over 300 km/h, the speeders found her were generally ultra-expensive and these flight lanes were the playgrounds for the young, rich, and foolish. Between missions or on days off before his leave, Trevor could have been found in these lanes, pushing the limits of his various hot rod speeders, racing against both law enforcement and anyone stupid enough to test their skill against him.

During his teen years Trevor had participated in speeder racing leagues, often with borrowed or stolen speeders, being unable to afford his own. The ones that he did own were Frankenstein contraptions, pieces together from stripped down speeders and generally stupid fast and horrendously unsafe. Not that it mattered in those leagues, as most of the vehicles were thrown together and pilot death was a common occurrence, with two or more pilots dying during the course of a race day not being uncommon. The high stakes payouts were often enough to draw new pilots into the leagues, although actually receiving your payout was difficult without the backing of a large race team. The league itself was run by crime lords and unless you had the muscle to intimidate them into paying out, you wouldn't get much.

His racing days on Abrae had resulted in at least two deaths, both of which he felt no regret for. Those who died racing him were, in his opinion, stupid and died from their own errors, not his. Both had lost control of their craft at high speeds and found themselve spinning out of control toward the ground. Each time, the death ahd been in the news later that day, each time stating that the driver had 'lost control on his own' and crashed, with no mention of any other craft.

The level above this was reserved for TIE Fighter training runs, and most other small spacecraft. These runs were generally kept away from the cities though, to avoid any crashes in populated areas. And there were always crashes. TIE Fighters could be very difficult to control, especially for someone with no seat time save for sims. It was fairly common for at least one recruit per training squadron to crash at some point, although these crashes were rarely fatal thanks to the ejector seats that Vast Empire TIE Fighters were equipped with.

Trevor's own crash record was higher than anyone he had ever flown with in Nazgul. This was not to say he was a terrible pilot, as his skill level was higher than most, mostly due to experience and not raw skill. A small percentage of his crashes were due to equipment failure. An equal percentage were due to wingmen either having been killed or doing their jobs poorly. The highest percentage was just from taking risks and pushing his craft beyond its limits. Having actually been shot down a few times, he could confidently tell any new pilot that the eject button is worth pressing at times.

His plan this time around was not to push the limits of the fighters so far. The thought of all his crashes made Trevor wonder what it would be like to get back into a fighter again, after a few years off. Finding some simulators and taking a few practice runs sounded like a good idea to him, but he would have to find another time to do it. He was sure Hunter would be waiting for him, but he secretly was in no rush. The weather was too nice to be in a hurry, and there were plenty of pleasures on Abrae for a pilot on leave to enjoy. Bars, although Trevor wasn't sure how much fun he'd have in those now that he had gone dry. Strip clubs, both human and alien, could also be found. Brothels, although illegal by Imperial law, still operated on Abrae in buildings under various fronts, usually bars or strip clubs. Nothing on Abrae could be kept a secret though, so most also bribes officials with large amounts of money, sometimes equaling or more than that specific official's yearly salary, just to stay open for another month. There were also the casinos, which appealed to Trevor more than the bars, strip clubs and brothels. He ahd more money than he knew what to do with, and although customizing speeders was a passion, his bank account far exceeded anything he could possibly want to do to them.

The fact that all the casinos were Imperial controlled made it a little easier to part with his money. He just had to remind himself that the credits were going to go to new fighters and his own pay cheque, and his gambling was justified. Spotting one just up the street from the barracks, he thought it might be an interesting little stop in on his way to see Hunter. After all, he still had two hours...

With that thought in mind, Trevor stepped past a pair of scantily clad female officers-in-training headed out to enjoy the start of their weekend, not succeeding in hiding the fact that he was checking them out. They giggled and carried on, confident now that they would be able to entice some other recruits, or maybe even officers, at the bar later tonight. He shook his head to himself, laughing, and made his way to the casino entrance, checking out some of the higher profile speeders parked outside as he walked past. The entrance glittered with tiny lights and he was greeted by a pair of red Twi-leks, trying to seduce him into buying a membership card at the casino. With a quick 'no thanks', he slipped past them and found himself in the casino lobby.

Now, where do I want to lose my money first...

OOC:
Word count: 1196. I'm gunna talk to Hunter tomorrow, may get us started on something here, I have an idea for some fun :P
FM/LCM/Trevor Evenson/A-4/S:26 Tuk'ata/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!
Rutian
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Rutian
 
[VE-NAVY] Master Chief Petty Officer
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 28, 2010 8:05:06 PM    View the profile of Rutian 
Rutian sat back on his leather couch inside his new room at the barracks. It was a larger room than he'd ever had as a squad member or as a Flight Leader. It definitely beat out the cells that the Special Forces had considered appropriate for his rank and position. He had the money, both from back pay and personal finances, to afford comfortable furniture. The decorum, however, was not what Rutian was concentrated on.

On the glass table at Rutian's knees sat a single datapad, and the datapad had displayed on its screen a single message. Rutian had read them over and over again, but they stilled failed to make any sense to him.

Senior Petty Officer Aslond "Rutian" Von, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Master Chief Petty Officer for your part in your recent mission. However, as far as the Empire is concerned your mission never existed. You were only a member of Kaph squadron that stepped up in a time of need. As far as the Empire is concerned that mission was a success. You are also hereby moved into the First Fleet and assigned as Tuk'ata Squadron's XO. Your Squadron Commander has already been given clearance to your file. It is considered by this office to be a waste of resources to find a replacement Watcher for you. You are on your own. Remember who your Family is.

The format of the message made perfect sense to Rutian; it was written in the style of some of the more personal orders he had received during his stay with the Special Forces. What didn't make any sense was the content of the message. 'As far as the Empire is concerned'? That mission had been totally botched, but the Empire was covering it up, and retiring an entire wing in 'glory'? Sure, that wing didn't exist anymore, but only because she had suffered over a 60% death rate. The space around that planet, or what was left of it, was littered with nothing but debris. It didn't make sense.

Rutian sighed again, and slowly stood from his seat. He reached down to pick the datapad up, and tapped at the 'Del' button. Placing the pad in a pocket in his robes Rutian walked out of his room. As he began to walk down the hallway another door opened, one only a bit away from his, and Hunter strode out with a grim look on his face. Not everyone had been unaffected by the death toll. He approached the Squadron Commander, striding along side him.

"Sir." Spoke Rutian as he walked along side Hunter.

"Ah, hello Rutian. Glad to have you on board, as my XO none the less. I've...read your file, at least the parts I had security access to. I'll be honest, it's impressive and haunting at the same time." The SC said.

"Aye Sir. I've received details on all of our pilot as well Sir. We seem to be in good shape. Do you predict any moral problems do to our previous mission?" Asked the Twi'lek.

"I was just about to address that. We're grounded for a while for obvious reasons. I've been walking through the barracks and only managed to snag one or two pilots. I propose the local bar as an amiable place for us to gather as a squadron and have a little meet-and-greet." Hunter said, an almost mischievous grin crossing his face before quickly disappearing.

The XO and SC walked together out of the barracks, and down towards the local bar. They were an odd couple: Rutian in flowing black and red robes that contrasted his blue skin and Hunter in his uniform with glowing yellow hair. The bar was filled almost entirely with off duty VE personnel, and the two sat down at a long table and informed the waitress of the intended size of their party.

"Drink?" Rutian asked, ordering a rough, dry, Twi'lek drink for himself.

"No, I don't drink." Hunter said, sipping on a Blue Milk.

"I have never understood how you humans could stand to drink the lactations of some bovine." Rutian muttered, staring into his glass.

"I guess you just have to be raised on it I suppose." Hunter said, looking into his own beverage before looking back up at his XO. "Hey man, are you alright?" He asked

Rutian looked up at Hunter and noticed how he must have looked to the other man. Here was a man who had just been promoted, given a higher position than he'd ever held before, was sitting in a bar filled with decent looking women, had a good drink in his hands, and was partaking in none of it. All of this when mixed with his file, which probably noted some level of mental instability, probably gave Hunter some reason for pause.

"I'm fine Sir." Rutian replied, and he finally took a sip of his drink.

"I wonder how long the others will take to get here." Hunter said, leaning back in his chair.

"I notified them via datapad message. It shouldn't take too long. I don't think I phrased it as a request." Rutian said, and a small smirk across his faced revealed sharpened teeth.

OOC:
WC: 873  Make movements towards the bar as that will be the starting point of our little get together. Try not to start a cliche barfight before everyone has arrived...
XO/SCPO Aslond Von/B-1/S:23 "Tu'kata/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=A=) (=*SAE*=) (=*ME*=)
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
Post Number:  21
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
February 28, 2010 10:47:27 PM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden looked around the hall, when he heard a beeping noise.  He grabbed his datapad from his bag and read the incoming message.  "The presence of all members of Tuk'ata Squadron are requested to meet at the local as soon as possible.  XO Rutian, Tuk'ata B-1"  Cayden stared at the message, then frowned.  The local bar?  Damn... now I have to change... this uniform is way too formal for a bar setting...  He walked back into his room and changed into more casual clothes: a white tunic with navy blue pants.  He shoved his uniform into his bag, set it on the bed, and proceeded back out into the hall.  He took a left, and proceeded down the hall.  He exited the building and walked into the streets.  He saw many species about him, all walking to where ever their day was taking them.  He looked around until he saw a sign pointing him to the bar.  He smiled as he proceeded down the street toward the bar.

Cayden opened the door and smelled the stench of sweat, ship fuel, stale food, and strong alcohol.  He looked around for a second, then walked up to the bar and ordered a simple jawa juice.  The bar tender quickly brought him his drink, and he downed it in several gulps.  He paid the barkeep several credits, then turned around to survey the other patrons.  He saw several attractive women, but remembering his past history with someone of the opposite sex, he decided against getting involved with any of them.  I'm here for one thing, and one thing only: to be what everyone on Onderon said I couldn't be.  He looked to his left and saw a human in a naval uniform and a blue-skinned male in black and red robes sitting at a table.  Hmmm... a human and a twi'lek sitting together... not strange, if in a cantina... but in a VE bar... strange indeed... only in the VE Navy  He shrugged and continued watching the room for a sign of his fellow squad-mates.
OOC:
WC: 342
yes, extremely short... but its very direct, and I'm also half tired... just message me if you want me to add more
Leading Crewman Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/LCW Amacuse/B-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited February 28, 2010 10:49:23 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited February 28, 2010 10:51:37 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 1, 2010 8:04:09 AM)]
Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lt. Commander
 
Post Number:  832
Total Posts:  860
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 2, 2010 11:51:19 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
A quick vibration from his pocket made Trevor jump as he was about to release the dice for the table game he was playing. The funny action of his toss allowed them to land and add up to 12, a winning number for anyone who had bet, including himself. He laughed as an incredibly aged man wrapped his arms around him and mumbled something about saving his house. After the moment of victory subsided, Trevor paused for a second to pull his datapad out of his pocket. A message from Rutian, the squadron's XO, had arrived.

"No electronic devices while at the table, please." A nearby pit boss scolded, pointing at his datapad.

"Sorry, next shooter is up I guess, I've got to go." Trevor said, acknowledging the small crowd around the table and picking up his chips. Up 23,000. I don't have any clue what I'm going to spend it on though. He thought as he counted the chips. Before he got too far, he stopped and turned back to the old man, who was hastily gathering up his winnings. "I can't use it, you take it and buy your wife something nice." He said as he looked into the old man's teary eyes before walking away.

Before the man could even recover from the shock of just being handed the value of his home, Trevor had slipped into the crowd and was busy bringing up the message on the datapad's screen.

The presence of all members of Tuk'ata Squadron are requested to meet at the local bar as soon as possible.  XO Rutian, Tuk'ata B-1

"God, that sounds so formal." Trevor said aloud. He tried to remember if he had ever flown with Rutian before. The name stuck out to him but he couldn't place it. Perhaps he had just heard it in passing. Regardless, he was in charge now and Trevor had to take that, whether it was a command or not. The bar itself was a short walk from where Trevor was,and it was still somewhat sunny out, so the walk would at least be enjoyable. The bar could be debatable. Usually a bunch of drunken pilots on leave was a good time, but that was back when Trevor was drinking.

Putting the thought out of his mind, Trevor made his way past the bouncers of the casino and out into the somewhat less bright street. He quickly found his way to the bar and pressed his way through the crowd of people standing outside, smoking in the fresh air. Why go outside to enjoy the fresh air anyways? You aren't filling your lungs with it, you might as well be inside drinking as well.

"Hey, where's you goin'? You shpilled mah drink!" Trevor heard from behind him as a huge, burly hand grabbed his shoulder. Wincing under the weight, Trevor turned around to find himself face to chest with a man at least 8 feet tall. Looking up, he was met by a pair of eyes like dulled aluminium. Grey and glassy from consumption, Trevor felt his choices were few. Run, get clobbered, talk his way out of it, or buy the giant a drink with more ounces of alcohol in it than he weighed at birth. Only one seemed like it would have a good, and inexpensive ending.

"Are you sure? I just got here, it couldn't have been me. It may have been that guy though." Trevor stumbled, pointing at a man skinnier than himself who was enjoying a large cigar. The giant glared at Trevor for a moment before following his extended finger and thinking for a moment.

"Coulda been him. Aw well, it wash a shmall drink. Bout the shize-a-yer head. Have fun." The man slurred as he released Trevor's shoulder and turned back to his equally tall friends. A small sigh of relief and Trevor was excusing his way past people and through the door.

All bars were the same, at least when it came to pilots. Dark, semi-loud music, and a smell that intoxicated in a way alcohol couldn't. Any real pilot had a spot in his heart for the smell, and a flood of memories would usually come back. Trevor's were, for the most part, blurred. He did remember a few distinct time with some of his closer friends, and one time, way back when, with Tokijin and Shazam. Not the time to be daydreaming about that though.

No familiar faces popped out at him as he scanned the bar the first time, although the darkness was no help to this. Moving a little deeper into the bar, Trevor kept his eyes open for anything that was familiar. Mostly, he was watching for someone who might be in uniform with the Tuk'ata insignia on his or her shoulder. He almost tripped over a chair leg and grabbed hold of it to keep his balance. When he looked at the occupant to appologize, the first thing he noticed was the Tuk'ata insignia. The next thing he noticed was the  rank medal for Squadron Commander. He'd recognize that on the spot, he had one of his own..somewhere.

"Trevor," Hunter said, his no-nonsense eyes the same as they used to be. That, Trevor remembered. "It's been a while."

"Sure has, Hunter." Trevor replied, forgoing any formal 'sir' or salute. Hunter was familiar with him, if he had expected some other reply, he failed to show it. "I can't even remember the last time I saw you. No surprise, considering the state I was in."

"You make yourself sound like a far worse drunk than most other pilots. Sit down, have something to drink. by the way, this," Hunter nodded at Rutian, "is MCPO Rutian. He'll be your XO, and I'm not sure if you two have any past history."

"Can't remember that myself, man. Names and faces are a blur, unless they meant something special to me. No offence, sir." Trevor said. Rutian shrugged at the comment. Taking his cue from Hunter, Trevor took a seat at the table next to Rutian and flagged down a waitress. Nodding at Hunter's Blue Milk, he asked for the same thing.

“Sure thing, hun.” The waitress said with a wink.

“Another one...” Rutian said, grimacing at the milk.

OOC:
WC: 1046. sorry it's shorter, got distracted towards the end but wanted to get the post up before anyone else posted and I had to re-write half of it.
FM/LCM/Trevor Evenson/A-4/S:26 Tuk'ata/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 March 2, 2010 11:51:47 PM)]
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
Post Number:  26
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 6, 2010 1:31:35 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden watched as Trevor walked over to the twi'lek and human he noticed earlier.  He also overheard part of their small conversation, catching only the name "Hunter".  Well... looks like I found them... better go introduce myself before I get reprimanded later on...  Cayden stood up from the bar and walked over to the table, stopping within 3 feet and saluting to the officers.  "Leading Crewman Cayden Tavers, reporting as requested sirs."

Hunter looked up at him and looked him over.  "At ease, Cayden.  We're not on duty right now.  Come, sit with us, have a drink."

"Of course, sir."  Cayden pulled up a chair and sat down next to Trevor.

"Crewman, this here is MCPO Rutian," Hunter said, nodding to his left.  "He'll be leading Beta flight on our missions."

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Cayden," Rutian said, showing his pointed teeth in a rather vicious smile.

"And this..." Hunter said, nodding to Trevor, "is Lt. Commander Trevor Evenson."

"Hi," Trevor said, shaking Cayden's hand.

"So Cayden... tell us a little bit about yourself.  Besides the fact that you're extremely eager to get into an interceptor, that much I'm familiar with," Hunter said, sipping his Blue Milk.

Cayden exhaled, then leaned forward.  "Alrighty... I come from the relatively isolated world of Onderon.  Its located in the Inner Rim Territories, yet remains separated from the New Republic and other splinter Imperial factions.  I grew up in a military family, my father serving the Republic Navy during the Clone Wars.  He retired before the rise of the Empire, and returned to Onderon to be part of the local security force.  However, several years ago, several officers in the Onderonian military decided to attempt to overthrow the Queen, and started a revolution.  My father led the Royalist forces..."  Cayden stopped there, his voice fading into silence.

Trevor looked at him, then asked, "You say that in the past tense... why?"

He looked at Trevor.  "He died several days ago during an attack from the Imperialist forces.  It also happened to be the same day that the New Republic decided to send aid to the Royalist Army, to not only end the war, but also bring Onderon into their hands."  He saw the waitress deliver Trevor's Blue Milk.  "Can I get a water?"

"Water?  Is that it?  Don't you want something... I don't know... stronger?"  The waitress asked.

"No thanks, water will be fine," Cayden said, smiling.

"As you wish, hun," she said, disappointed as she walked away to get his water.

The other three gave him a look that he'd be sure to never forget.  "Water?!?" Trevor exclaimed.  "Soldiers drink alcohol or dairy, not water... what kind of soldier are you, son?"

"Well, I had surgery just the other day, so I'm trying not to intoxicate my body in it's currently weakened state... plus, I was raised under the belief that the consumption of alcohol and other "unnaturally-colored" liquids is bad for one's health," he said, nodding to the glass of Blue Milk in Trevor's hand.  "Plus, I'm partially lactose-intolerant."

OOC:
WC: 509
I hope I did a relatively good job... if not, then please let me know... I was trying to capture their personalities from all your posts, and I pray I did it decent enough for you all.
Leading Crewman Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/LCW Amacuse/B-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=A=)
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 6, 2010 1:32:21 AM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 6, 2010 11:50:18 AM)]
Summit
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[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 2nd Class
 
Post Number:  28
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 7, 2010 4:27:56 PM    View the profile of Summit 
Saul read the message and pulled up the map on his data pad the meeting point. Noting his location, he flagged down a local land speeder driver. After giving him the location of the bar, at which he was to meet up with his squadron mates. He was about three kilometers out; he had some time to sit back. The streets were congested for no obvious reason. He could not get the whole legal situation out of his head. It made no sense to him. The whole situation started over him failing to deploy following his time in the Imperial Academy on his home world of Corulag.

It was then when he though of it, he still had a friend or two in the Remnant. He pulled out his data pad, and linked it to his wrist communicator. Using the holo net, he began a voice communication. After about half a minute a woman’s voice could be heard.

[[Hello?]] The woman said.

“Amanda, its Saul.”

[[I can’t talk right now.]]

“It’s very important; I need you to do me a favor.”

[[Do you know how much trouble I could get in if they find out I am talking to you?]]

”What do you mean?” Saul asked.

[[I don’t know what you did, or who you pissed off, but the whole mess from the academy has come back into light.]]

The land speeder cleared the congestion, and began to speed up. They were behind schedule, but making up time.

“So? I am out of their jurisdiction, what makes them think that they can place charges?”

[[I don’t know someone with a strong pull of the Empire sent the orders. They are probably trying to…]]

Saul then heard the sound of a door opening, and footsteps walking in. There were new voices, but and then he heard Lieutenant Clark get up and walk away from her communicator. The last sound that was static, preceded by a single blaster shot. Saul was shocked; someone knew that he had called one of his old friends. At the first chance he got, he planned to make some bad decisions.

The speeder made a sharp turn, and pulled up to the bar. Saul got out of the speeder, and walked over to the driver.

“You made good time, there’s a bonus in there for you.” He said as he slipped the driver an envelope.
The driver looked in the envelope, “Thanks! Want me to wait out here until you’re done?”

“Nah, you better take off, who knows how long I’ll be.”

The speeder driver tipped his hat, and then accelerated away. Saul looked at the building; it was a modern structure, surrounded on both sides by older buildings. An interesting neighborhood, one that Saul would have no problem with living in. He walked towards the door of the bar, passing by a few people of shady style. Saul walked in, keeping his eye on the people outside. He had his left hand sitting on the DT-57 holstered under his jacket, and he kept in mind the second pistol holstered on his lower back. He opened the door, and walked in over to the table where he saw familiar faces.

He walked over to the table where his commanding officers were sitting, and made his presence known.

“Petty Officer Aquila, reporting as ordered Sir.” He saluted.

Hunter laughed, possibly not expecting Saul to be so formal.

“At ease; take a seat and get a drink, we’ll be getting started soon.” Rutian said.

“Aye, Sir.” Saul said as he took a seat at the table.

The waitress walked over to the table, “Can I get you anything, Sir?”

“Um… sure, I’ll go for a cold can of Stimcaf.” Saul replied as he pulled a small bottle of pills out of his jacket.

The waitress returned with a can and glass; she set them on the table next to Saul, and walked away.

Saul popped open the bottle, took out two of the pills and took them with the Stimcaf. He then sat back, put the bottle back in his jacket and waited.


OOC:
684 Words. You guys enjoy your dairy, ill stick to Caffeine :P
Petty Officer Second Class Saul "Summit" Aquila
FM/PO2 Summit/B-2/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=*BAE*=) [SoA][MC1](SoL)

Imperial Network Star Wars Image
[This message has been edited by Summit (edited March 7, 2010 4:29:37 PM)]
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
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Post Number:  35
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 12, 2010 4:27:19 PM    View the profile of Amacuse 
The waitress came by and gave Cayden his water, then asked "You sure you don't want anything else?  We have a very fine selection of..."

"I said water was fine, thank you," he said, starting to lose his patience.

"Partially lactose-intolerant?  What the hell does that mean?" asked Hunter, setting his glass on the table.

"Well... when I was younger, I used to drink dairy all the time.  But, the last couple of years, I found that I couldn't stomach milk at all.  I can eat cheese and other dairy products just fine... I simply cannot drink milk," Cayden said, taking a sip of his water.

Trevor spoke up next.  "Hey, why don't you finish the story you were telling earlier.  You last said something about your father leading the Royalist Army?"

Cayden looked up.  "Right.  As I was saying, my father led the Royalist Army, at the wishes of the Queen, against the Imperialist forces.  He never spent much time with us, so I never really knew him... until I entered the Royal Military Academy.  It was the first time he ever really paid any attention to me.  He observed my actions in the Academy a lot... I secretly thought that he wished that he was my instructor instead of leading the Army, but he denied it every time I asked.  I never really did enjoy the Academy... it was all desk work, never field.  The field work began in my eighth year in the Academy.  Then one day, I saw my chance to get out of the Academy for good.  The Imperialist forces were making a push against the Royalist Army in the Merchant Quarter.  I was in the Academy hangar, looking at the decommissioned Old Order fighters, when I overheard a report of the battle over the battle-comm."  Cayden stopped, took a drink of his water, and continued.  "I knew that if I flew a fighter into the fray, I'd either end up dead, or expelled.  But, I also knew that not doing anything was also out of the question.  So, I ran to the nearest fighter, a down-graded ARC-170 Starfighter, and flew it to the Merchant Quarter, where Imperialist fighters were bombarding the Royalist Army.  I joined up with several commissioned fighters and entered the battle.  I knew what to do, because of simulations, but the rush of the battle just washed over me, taking over every action.  I did things that I never even knew were capable for such an old fighter.  I shot down 5 enemy fighters in that battle, and killed countless more Imperialist soldiers.  The Imperialist Army fled back into the Commoner Quarter.  So, I returned to the Academy hangar, hoping that no one would notice the carbon-scored fighter.  But, as fate would allow, my instructor, along with my father, were waiting for me as I exited the cockpit of the ship."

"Wow... 5 fighters, in an extremely old fighter... as a cadet?  You must be some kind of gifted pilot, Cayden," Hunter said, sipping his milk.

"Yeah, I was... at the time.  But, I swore off flying for two years following that battle... I wasn't ready for it.  But, I signed on with the VE Navy to do what I swore against: flying.  Those two years will have dulled my abilities a bit, but give me some time, and I'll be flying like a seasoned pilot."

"That's good, cause we don't like screw-ups in the Navy," said Trevor, sipping his milk.  "So, what'd they do to you when you landed?"

"Well, the instructor was definitely not happy.  I just flew not only Academy property, but [i[his[/i] personal property, into battle.  He was yelling at me, cussing at me, using every condescending word he knew on me.  My father just stood there, smiling.  Then, when the instructor finished, my father said 'Son... that was one hell of a fight you put up out there today.  I can't wait for the day you graduate form the Academy.'  The instructor just stood there, looking at my dad in shock.  Then, he said 'But... he broke just about every rule we have at this Academy!  He must be severely punished!'  My dad, however, told him 'If he didn't break your rules, we would now be under Imperialist rule.  What he did saved not only the Royalist Army, but the Queen as well.  I'm sure she wouldn't like it if you punished the person who saved her soldiers and her life.'  My instructor stood there, staring at my father.  I thought he'd explode, but instead he nodded, then left the hangar.  My father turned to me and said 'Son... don't let people like that walk over you... ever.  You are better than he will ever be, and he knows it.  Finish your education at the Academy, then come see me for a commission."  That was the last time I ever saw him.  Over the next two years, I never stepped in another cockpit.  I knew that I was walking a fine line with the instructor as to was, but every time he said something I thought was wrong, I'd challenge him on it.  Finally, he just about had it with me and expelled me from the Academy.  I knew that if my father ever found out, it would be bad for the war effort.  So, I packed a few things, and left.  I traveled around, looking for a place to settle down, when I heard about the Vast Empire Navy looking for new recruits.  At first, I decided against it, but then remembered what I did in that battle two years previous, remembered how I felt piloting that fighter in combat, so I took the next ship bound for VE space."  Cayden leaned back and sipped his water.

Everyone at the table sat there looking at him.  Then, Hunter spoke up.  "Well, I'm glad you decided to join us... you have no idea how desperate we were getting for pilots."

"I understand completely, actually.  The war with the New Republic must be costly indeed."

"You have no idea..." said Trevor, sipping his milk.

Then, a Petty Officer approached the table.

“Petty Officer Aquila, reporting as ordered Sir.” He saluted.

Hunter laughed, possibly not expecting Saul to be so formal.

“At ease; take a seat and get a drink, we’ll be getting started soon.” Rutian said.

“Aye, Sir.” Saul said as he took a seat at the table.

The waitress walked over to the table, “Can I get you anything, Sir?”

“Um… sure, I’ll go for a cold can of Stimcaf.” Saul replied as he pulled a small bottle of pills out of his jacket.

The waitress returned with a can and glass; she set them on the table next to Saul, and walked away.

Saul popped open the bottle, took out two of the pills and took them with the Stimcaf. He then sat back, put the bottle back in his jacket and waited.

Cayden looked at Saul for a moment, studying him, then introduced himself.  "Leading Crewman Cayden Tavers, at your service sir."

"Petty Officer Saul Aquila.  Pleased to meet you Cayden."  He said, shaking Cayden's outstretched hand.

"Hey Saul, the young crewman here is a war-veteran from Onderon," Trevor said, leaning forward.

"Onderon?  Wasn't there something in the news about a general there dying?"  Summit asked.

"Yeah... that general was my father, Dorn Tavers," Cayden said, downing the last of his water.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Cayden.  But, like all things, we move onward."

"Indeed we do, sir... indeed we do..." Cayden said, thinking about the future, and what it might have in store for him.

OOC:
WC: 1273
Trevor, let me know if I did you justice here... I really hope I did.
Leading Crewman Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/LCW Amacuse/B-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=A=)
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 12, 2010 5:00:18 PM)]
Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lt. Commander
 
Post Number:  835
Total Posts:  860
Joined:  Aug 2005
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 12, 2010 8:34:43 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
OOC:
OOC: Sounds like me to me. I'm just going to put up a short one cause some stuff came up.


Cayden's story was very interesting to Trevor, and although he could respect tales of glory, he really had to see it first hand to believe it. The young pilot would get a chance to prove himself though, there was no doubt of that. In the mean time, Trevor felt he'd just feel rather neutral about Cayden and wait for his actions to prove his words.

He was somewhat surprised though, that the man who could easily be described as an army brat seemed so much unlike one. Well, not so much. Trevor did detect a slight hint of vanity, but that could have been from anything. He'd be lying if he tried to deny the fact that he used to be full of himself at times. Maybe it's a pilot thing.

The newest pilot that had sat down was one who was unfamiliar to Trevor as well, but for now it was going to stay that way. Trevor was more interested in Cayden.

"I hope you'll adapt quickly to a TIE Interceptor. They are much, much different from one of those out-dated ARC's." He said, fidgeting with his glass as he spoke.

"I believe I will be. We flew TIE Fighters during training, and I faired quite well with those." Cayden replied, taking another sip of his water. Trevor nodded.

"Yes, but an Interceptor is a different game. Faster, more nimble, downright violent in atmospheric flight," he started, thinking back to a particular crash he had been in that was caused by rough cross-winds on the dagger-like wings of the Interceptor he had been piloting. "But once you learn how to fly one, you can outmanuever and outfly just about anything."

"I'm sure I'll catch on quickly. I don't plan on being a weak link in this squadron." Cayden replied, his voice even. He hadn't been offended by the comment, and Trevor knew it.

"What do I know though, I'm impartial to Y-wings myself." Trevor said with a smirk, waiting to see who looked at him funniest. It was the newest pilot to join the table, Saul.

"And just why would that be? They are slow and heavy and god-awful. If it wasn't for the armour, no one would fly them." He said with a raised eyebrow. Even Hunter looked a little confused.

"That's exactly why I like them," Trevor said with a smile. "They are slow and heavy. Not great for space flight, but in the atmosphere, you can do things like that that would be impossible with any sort of TIE fighter. Cut the engines and pull hard and you can spin the back end around so you are facing the people shooting at you from behind. Try that in an Interceptor."

"No thanks." Hunter said, setting his glass down on the table. Rutian was looking around the bar, scanning for any Tuk'ata pilots who may have missed their table. "Did the others forget to come?"

"I don't know, I sent the message out almost a half hour ago. We'll give them a little more time before we start with things." Rutian said, checking the time on his datapad. The bar was far too smoke filled to see any of the clocks on the walls.

"So Saul, I believe it's your turn to volenteer information about yourself." Trevor said, tipping his glass toward Saul and seeming friendly. New squadron might actually have some talent. This should be interesting. Hopefully they aren't too independent though. I don't even know who my wingman is. Trevor thought as he took a sip from his glass.

OOC:
WC: 593. Hopefully this moves us somewhere, and again, I appologize for the length. I did it in a rush though, what do you expect :P
FM/LCM/Trevor Evenson/A-4/S:26 Tuk'ata/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!
Hunter-Morrell
ComNet Marshal
 
Hunter-Morrell
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer
[VE-VEEC] Word Slinger
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 12, 2010 10:03:45 PM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Hunter listened to the idle chit-chat halfheartedly, mainly because his mind was on other things. He was slightly worried about the few pilots who had yet to show up. He knew Stewart-Power; it wasn’t like him to not show up for a squadron meeting, even an impromptu one, without sending a message as to why. Although, he hadn’t known IG-88/e as long, it still was a bit odd for him not to show up either. Hunter unconsciously began to think up worst-case scenarios, but mentally shook himself out of it.

I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for their not showing up. Besides, it isn’t very good for me to be worrying about them.

He tuned back into the conversation just in time to hear Trevor speak.

“. . . I'm partial to Y-wings myself." Trevor said with a smirk.

Confused, Hunter pursed his lips as his mind raced to catch up. Y-wings were horrible at just about everything combat-wise in space, except for bombing runs on ships. It could keep up slightly in dogfights, but didn’t have any powerful weaponry that could be used other than its two laser cannons. In fact, the only good weaponry it had was its payload of proton torpedoes. To balance that fact, Y-wings were well-armored and well-shielded, capable of standing hits from most weapons, excluding capital ship-sized weaponry.

"And just why would that be? They are slow and heavy and god-awful. If it wasn't for the armor, no one would fly them." said the newest addition to the table, Saul.


"That's exactly why I like them," Trevor said, grinning."They are slow and heavy. Not great for space flight, but in the atmosphere, you can do things like that that would be impossible with any sort of TIE fighter. Cut the engines and pull hard and you can spin the back end around so you are facing the people shooting at you from behind. Try that in an Interceptor."

Hmm. I didn’t even look at it that way. Now that he mentions it, it would serve as a useful craft in atmospheric combat.

"No thanks." Hunter said.

Hunter knew better than to try some maneuver like that. It had the potential to rip the wing off, due to the momentum and centrifugal-force of the ball-shaped cockpit. Hunter sett his glass down on the table, and leaned back in his chair. Rutian was looking around the bar, scanning for any Tuk'ata pilots who may have missed their table, and Hunter followed suit.

Hunter spoke up after a few moments of not spotting anyone recognizable, “Did the others forget to come?"

"I don't know, I sent the message out almost a half hour ago. We'll give them a little more time before we start with things." Rutian said, pulling his datapad out and checking the time.

"So Saul, I believe it's your turn to volunteer information about yourself." Trevor said, tipping his glass toward Saul and seeming friendly.

Before Saul could answer, Hunter set his chair back down and stood up, sliding his chair back from the table as he did so.

“I’ll be right back. Gonna go find the ‘fresher.” Hunter said, before turning and making his way across the crowded bar.

Because the bar was quite large and shadowed, Hunter had no trouble getting out of sight of his table. Slipping into a shadowed alcove, he pulled out his datapad. It wasn’t his standard-issue datapad though; it was one he had special-ordered a while back. It came with quite a few nifty features, such as a program that allowed him to hack into the video records for the Tuk’ata barracks and view them remotely or even store them for later viewing. Pulling them up, he started about thirty minutes back, which was shortly before he and Rutian left, and quickly fast-forwarded through them. He only saw three more people, all three of which were now seated at the table he had just left.

Great. Now I’m back to worrying. I’ll give them about ten or so more minutes, and then it’ll be time to investigate.

Sighing, he waited another minute and made his way back to the table.

OOC:
Eh . . .
WC: 695
SC/CWO Hunter Morrell/A-1/S:23 "Tu'kata/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL]
[This message has been edited by Hunter-Morrell (edited March 12, 2010 10:05:03 PM)]
Stewart-Power
ComNet Cadet
 
Stewart-Power
 
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
 
Post Number:  229
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 12, 2010 11:17:37 PM    View the profile of Stewart-Power 
OOC:
I don't think I've mentioned this, as most people seem to pick it up, Only I refer to myself as "Thel". It's not really that important (it just sounded weird repeating Stewart-Power over and over again in a post). Anyways.


===== Stewart-Power's quarters =====
Stewart-Power felt something unusual, as he sat on his bunk, looking at the meagre, purely utilitarian, decorations on the slate-Gray walls of his quarters on Abrae. Not only did he feel the comfort of a familiar situation, his carbine lay field stripped on the bed beside him, his few possessions lay on the various desk in the room. I someone walked into the room at the moment, then they would get the impression that he was a hunter, either that or a travelling armoury.

Most of his relatively few possessions were weapons, usually rifles of some kind. He looked to mirror on his left, over which a heavily modified bolt sniper rifle. It looked as if it could be fully submerged in water, and still fire. Which, coincidentally, was the exact reason Thel brought it. Reflected in the mirror was a desk, on top of which lay a couple of D-44 blaster pistols. A knife, that more closely resembled a small axe then a hunting knife, lay in between the two blaster pistols.

The other feeling that Thel had, was one of good fortune. He sat there with a roof above his head and comrades relatively close-by. Even though in the aftermath of the events at Lehon, many good pilots gave up their lives it a fruitless skirmish against the New Republic, Thel still felt fortunate. He had survived the worst the New Republic had sent at him, and the worst the Vast Empire had sent him into and emerged unscathed.

This wasn't the case for all the pilots who survived it. Many had lost close friends, and others with more more responsibility almost felt physical pain at losing so many people under their command. Those pilots had changed. Their attitudes often darkened, and they  closed up their feeling best they could. But it still emanated through their eyes. Thel guessed this was just a human thing, and hoped the influx of rookie pilots could somehow dilute the feeling of pain at failure.

Thel finally decided to go outside, explore the planet, possibly even log some more hours hours with the TIE Interceptor. He then got up, and after stretching, started reassembling his carbine which was still field stripped on the bunk. After he finished putting it together, it resembled any other Starslasher carbine, except, he had added a scope. As well as the scope, he had modified it to be more accurate, at the cost of firing speed. As he walked to the door, he put the carbine into a custom made holster on his hip.

"Maybe I'll go to the range, show those cadets how it's done?" He said to himself as he left the room.

===== Abrae Academy Shooting Range =====
Stewart-Power got to the shooting range without much difficulty. Although there were civilian shooting ranges on Arbrae, he preferred the military ones. And although the troops assigned to the gate looked at him quizzically, when he showed them that he was a PO1, they let him through. As he walked through the academy, he got more quizzical looks from passer-bys, but no one actually tried to stop him as he made his way to the range

Once he got to the range, it was mostly empty, so he chose the range to the far left. He got there, took out his carbine, chose a target, and started lining up his shots. One after another the ruby bolt slammed into the target, as Thel descended into hunting mode. He developed tunnel vision concentration only on the target, as he repeatedly hit the target, never missing the target, despite that the target moved away every time he hit it. Thel knew himself and he knew his weapon, so he relentlessly sent an onslaught of blaster fire, constantly hitting the target.

When he had finished, he felt physically refreshed, despite the mental strain caused by focusing for so long. He checked his chrono, and realized he had logged two hours at the range. He turned around and learned that his unforgiving and relentless accuracy had caused a crowd of cadets to collect behind him. As Thel walked past them he noticed some of them passing around credits to each other. Obviously they had made bets.

===== Streets of Abrae =====

As he was walking out of the gates, on to the well lit streets of Abrae, he reached for his datapad, to recheck the route back to his quarters. He pat the work-dress he was wearing in every conceivable pouch or place to put it, and couldn't find it. Although he pretty much had the route memorized, he wanted to find it as fast as he could, so he hailed the next air-cab he saw.

He nearly tore his room apart searching for the datapad, but still couldn't find it. Slightly more then mildly flustered, he changed into the closest thing he had to civilian clothes, and left his quarters for the second time that day. Seeking for a way to unwind, he walked up to the nearest street kiosk and asked for directions to the nearest cantina.

===== Tuk'ata meeting cantina, 35 minutes after the message =====
Stewart-Power entered the bar wearing an off-white tunic, with matching off-white trousers. The only symbols on the tunic was the the Tuk'ata Squadron symbol on his right shoulder, and the rank insignia of a Petty Officer 1st class on his left. He navigated the crowds of people fairly easily, as Mon Calamari were generally an uncommon sight, and as such, most people kept their distance, if subconsciously. Thel thought he saw a tuft of shaggy blonde hear bobbing through the crowd, but he couldn't be sure. The dark lights and smoky atmosphere played hell, with Thel's eyes, and he could barely make out the general direction of the bar.

With on eye aimed at the bar, Thel used his other eye to scan the crowd for familiar faces. The eclectic gathering of people, plus the dim lights, made the crowd look like a motley lot. But from what He could tell, some pilots live for this type of atmosphere. Thel could barely stand it. He was by no means claustrophobic, he actually felt secure enclosed by objects, such as a star fighter, or conversely a cave. It was being surrounded by people and humanoids. The oily smell of skin, the brushing of limbs against your body. He wasn't sure what he disliked more, being among a large crowd of people he didn't know, and usually didn't like. Or not being able to control what happens to himself.

Another reason Thel liked being in a star fighter, he is able to control what happens to himself. He doesn't naturally want control of other people. He will take control of a situation if necessary, but not voluntarily. An exception to this however is in battle. But being a pilot, opportunities for battle command are far and few between.

It was while absorbed by these thoughts, Thel nearly crashed into someone wearing something vaguely resembling a uniform. Thel immediately noticed the blonde hair, and then his suspicions were proven correct. He had nearly walked into his Squadron Commander; Hunter-Morrell.

"Hello, there. Sorry I'm late..." Thel began to say.


OOC:
Word Count: 1205.. Alright, added what I was doing pre- entering the bar. Apparently, quite a bit.
Also, feel free to "spot" me out of the crowd, Mon Cal's sort of stand out in the Empire
FL/PO1 "Thel" Stewart-Power/B-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)[MC2][MC1]
"Navy Ground-Pounder"

Clearly Canadian!
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited March 12, 2010 11:18:03 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited March 12, 2010 11:18:33 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Stewart-Power (edited March 16, 2010 1:41:52 AM)]
Hunter-Morrell
ComNet Marshal
 
Hunter-Morrell
 
[VE-NAVY] Chief Warrant Officer
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 13, 2010 11:28:38 AM    View the profile of Hunter-Morrell 
Hunter’s mind was a whirlwind of activity. In between conflicting thoughts about the safety of his missing pilots and himself telling himself not to worry about them because, after all, they were on Abrae (and just what trouble could they get up to here?), he was also wondering about the newest additions to Tuk’ata. How would they fit in? Would they merge into the squadron seamlessly and seem like they were destined to be there? Or would they cause friction and tempers to flare? It was because of all of this that Hunter didn’t even notice a familiar Mon Cal heading his way and, apparently, the Mon Cal didn’t notice either. Slowly, they drew closer to each other, and then crashed with a resounding thump. Momentarily stunned at being so abruptly shaken out of his thoughts, Hunter just stared at the Mon Cal. Fortunately, the Mon Cal was quicker on the uptake. His eyes immediately shot upwards to Hunter’s shaggy shock of blonde hair, which was unique among most human male pilots in the Vast Empire because the average male pilot tended to keep their hair cut short in a military-style buzz cut, mostly out of convenience because it was so much easier to maintain.

"Hello, there. Sorry I'm late..." Stewart-Power said.

While his name was actually Thel, Hunter had always preferred to call his pilots and, back when he wasn’t SC, his squadron mates by their callsigns, more out of habit than anything else. Still, they were used to it, so no one complained.

I wonder where he has been. Rutian said he’d sent out the message about half a standard hour earlier. Unless he just didn’t get it, he’d better have a good reason for not showing up.

“So?” Hunter said, raising an eyebrow and focusing on Stewart.

“So what?” the Mon Cal said.

“Where have you been? Rutian sent that message out a little over half a standard hour ago.” Hunter calmly responded.

“Rutian who? And I didn’t get a message.” Stewart said, obviously confused.

“Oh. Drac . . . left.” Hunter said, pausing to rack his brain for an acceptable excuse for Drac’s disappearance, “In doing so, he vacated the XO position, so Rutian was placed in it. You’ll meet him when we get back to the table. As to you not getting the message, do you not have your datapad?”

Stewart looked away quickly and shifted his feet slightly, as if the question made him uncomfortably.

Instantly, Hunter realized what had happened, “You lost it, didn’t you?”

Stewart nodded sheepishly before replying, “Lost is too strong of a word. I prefer . . . misplaced.”

Hunter sighed and beckoned the Mon Cal to follow him to the table. Pulling an unoccupied seat away from a nearby table, he slid it up to the table for the Stewart and then found his own seat. As each of the beings seated around the table greeted the new arrival, Hunter sat down.

One down, two more to go. The big furball and the droid.

OOC:
WC: 500 even
SC/CWO Hunter Morrell/A-1/S:23 "Tu'kata/W:1 "Javelin"/Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
(=A=)(=SA=)(=ME=)(=*MAE*=) [CBV.][NS-1][SWC][BRC][VC:B][SoL]
[This message has been edited by Hunter-Morrell (edited March 13, 2010 11:49:23 AM)]
Amacuse
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Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 15, 2010 2:42:23 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden watched Hunter get up from his seat and start looking around for the rest of the squadron.  He took a sip from his water, then stood up to stretch.

Trevor noticed him get up and asked "You going somewhere, Cayden?"

Cayden looked at him and smiled.  "I'm just a wee bit stiff... I'm gonna walk it off, then I'll be back.  That alright with you, Commander?"

Trevor shrugged.  "Sure, just don't get lost... we won't be sending out a rescue party to get you if some female officers decide to kidnap you and do as they see fit with you," he said, winking.

Cayden smiled again.  "Don't worry, sir... I don't intend to be gone long... just a few minutes."  And with that, Cayden walked away from the table and headed into the crowd, pushing his way past several people until he bumped into someone, a human female, wearing an Onderonian uniform.

"Sorry," the Onderonian.  "I wasn't watching where I was going..."

"It all... hey, you're from Onderon!" Cayden exclaimed, drawing the attention of several nearby people.

"How did you... it can't be..." she said, leaning closer to Cayden.  She reared back and said "Oh my goodness!  Cayden?  Cayden Tavers, is that you?"

Cayden stood there, wondering how she recognized him, when he finally recognized her.  "No... Ashley?  What are you doing here on Abrae?"

"I'm here, looking for you silly!  I need you to come back to Onderon... actually, the Queen does.  She appointed me as her ambassador to the Vast Empire High Council on Lotaith.  Unfortunately, I was forced to land here on Abrae, due to engine malfunctions..."

"I can't leave, Ashley... I mean, I have a new life here..."  Cayden interjected, looking rather sad.

Ashley looked at him, upset, then said "Even after all the time we spent together?  You will give everything up for a failing Empire?"

"No, Ashley... I will never give up what we share... but, I have a duty to the Vast Empire and my squadron... I'm sorry, but my place is here," he said, holding her close.  "But, I would be very happy if we could keep in contact."

She looked up at him and smiled, a tear on her cheek.  "I'd like that very much," she said.

Cayden looked over to his squad mates, who were watching with confusion.  "Ashley... I want you to have this..." he said, pulling out an amulet and putting it in her hand.  "This amulet was given to me by the Queen of Onderon the night I left as a sign of loyalty and devotion to the person holding it by the one giving it to them.  I want you to have this, as not only a symbol of my loyalty to Onderon, but as a promise to you... a promise that, once my service is over, I will come back for you."

Tears started streaming down her face as he said those words to him.  "Cayden... I don't know... thank you..." she finally stammered out.  "Cayden?"

"Yes, Ashley?"

"I love you," she said, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiled.  "I love you too Ashley," he said, returning the kiss.  "I'd better get back before they start worrying about me."

"Alright," she said, letting go.  "Hey, call me later, okay?  Maybe, before I leave, we could get dinner?"

"I'd like that," he said, smiling.

"Alright, I look forward to your call," she said, turning around and disappearing into the crowd.

Cayden watched her disappear, then reanalyzed what just happened.  Okay Cayden... not only do you abandon your Queen, but you also forget to tell your sweetheart you were leaving... but, she still loves you, and that's what ultimately matters... I just hope I can see her before she leaves tonight.  Well... better get back before they start to freak on me.  Cayden walked back to the table, where everyone was grinning like fools.  "What are you all grinning about?" Cayden asked.

"Nothing... just that you never mentioned that you had a girl back on Onderon," Rutian said, sipping his stiff drink.

"I didn't?  Hmmm... thought I did...  Well, her name is Ashley, Ashley Clearwater.  We knew each other for years, ever since we were young.  As far as I know, there are no secrets between us, we know everything about each other... that is, until I left Onderon.  I... never told her I was leaving... big mistake on my part.  Fortunately for her, the Queen made her an ambassador to the Vast Empire... her sip apparently had an engine malfunction, so she was forced to land here.  Anyway, we dated for several years, amidst attending the Academy and Onderonian politics," he said, sipping his water.

"How close did you get?" asked Trevor.

"We were extremely close, as close as two people can get without breaking moral codes... no, we never 'did it', if that's what you're wondering... we were waiting until marriage for that," Cayden said, smirking.  "But... I know she wanted to just give in to the temptation... so did I, as a matter of fact.  But, we held out strong.  Hopefully, if this meeting doesn't take all day, I'll be able to have dinner with her before she ships out."

"Well, we'll try not to make it take forever, Cayden... we wouldn't want to ruin your date," Rutian said, smirking.

"Yeah, yeah... keep teasing me you guys... I'll find a way to get you all later, don't worry," Cayden said, winking to Rutian before draining the rest of his water.  The waitress nearby took his glass and refilled it for him.  "Thank you," he said, tipping the waitress several credits for her rapid service.  He looked up just in time to see Hunter and Stewart sit down at the table.

OOC:
WC: 958  I think I'm on a roll...
Leading Crewman Cayden "Amacuse" Tavers

FM/LCW Amacuse/A-3/S:26 Tuk'ata/W:1 Javelin/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=A=)
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 15, 2010 3:24:59 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 15, 2010 3:25:24 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 15, 2010 4:02:34 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 15, 2010 7:05:19 PM)]
[This message has been edited by Amacuse (edited March 16, 2010 4:39:38 AM)]
Summit
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[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 2nd Class
 
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 16, 2010 7:37:25 PM    View the profile of Summit 
Sitting at the table, Saul looked around the room.  The squadron seemed to be getting along very well; it was like they had been a group for years. This was a very good thing, as in the future these pilots would need to depend on each other.

There were many tables of people in the cantina, though it did not appear as if they were imperial personnel. The local band changed its music from the standard type of cantina music to a more local theme. A nice change, Saul had heard the previous tune one too many times. He had finished him StimCaf and signaled to the server for another one. She nodded, acknowledging what he was saying. Saul thought that this was good, this being a simple mission. It seemed a little too simple, but he was fine with that.  It was a nice change, not flying around and worrying about getting shot out of space; Peaceful, tranquil, but also kind of suspicious. It made Saul a bit nervous, ironic as he normally kept his cool during a hectic situation.

He sat there, just watching the people who sat at the various tables. As he did, the waitress came back over with his next drink. He nodded to her, and he opened the can.  The whole time he could not help but think about his past and how it was coming back to bite him. All the incidents during those long years, namely the years during and prior too his extended stay in the Yetton system. He knew that some pilots from the Imperial Navy had been in the system in recent time. He was interested in meeting some of them. He looked across the table at the executive officer; he seemed like a good person to ask.

“Sir, do you know anything about the Yetton system?” he said, direct to the point.

“Personally, no; but there were some people from the Wing that went there a while ago with Viper. I heard it was a haven for pirates and the like.” Rutian said.

“Hrm… interesting.”

“How so?”

“I was there a few years ago, didn’t see any pirates; though there were some imperials there from the remnant.”

“Isn’t that system right on the edge of VE controlled space?”

“Yeah, the system is just before Jalor; you know the neutral shore-leave colony.”

“You know, that is a place have been meaning to take a trip to that place.”

“Indeed.”

Saul would have to look into the Yetton system in between missions; maybe even take a trip there at one point. It was going to bug him, but plenty of caffeinated products would definitely keep his mind well off of it.

His communicator went off, and he got up and gave Hunter a ‘ill be right back’ nod, as he went to go answer it. It was a call from his legal advocate, who was looking into the whole situation.

Saul answered the comm. “Yes, Ma’am.”

[[Petty Officer, I have uncovered some information that puts this whole thing in perspective.]]

“What would that be?”

[[Id rather discuss it in person, following your current duties report to my office.]]

Saul looked around the cantina…

hehe Duties, these might take a while. He thought to himself.

“Aye, Ma’am.” He said as she closed the channel.

OOC:
551 Words.
Petty Officer Second Class Saul "Summit" Aquila
FM/PO2 Summit/B-2/S:26 "Tuk'ata"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE (=*BAE*=) [SoA][MC1](SoL)

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Rocketman1167
ComNet Cadet
Imperial Baronet

 
Rocketman1167
 
[VE-NAVY] Petty Officer 1st Class
 
Post Number:  215
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  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 19, 2010 10:56:56 PM    View the profile of Rocketman1167 
Rocket was sipping on his drink when his comlink started going off. Rocket pulled it out and read the message that that was sent to it. It said that there was going to be a meeting at the local bar which Rocket has been in for the last thirty minutes or so. So Rocket decided to wait for the rest of the squadron to get to the bar to find out what this meeting is about. Rocket had already drank half the bottle waiting for everyone else so he what in a good state of mind when he noticed Hunter enter the cantina and watch him look around the bar to see if anyone else had made it before him, Rocket could not be seen because he was in the darkest corner of the cantina.

After awhile Rocket noticed that there where a decent amount of people around Hunter that’s when Rocket decide to walk over to the bar once he saw Hunter walk to the entrance. Once he got to the bar Rocket felt his comlink go off again and noticed that this time the message was from Hunter asking what was going on and where the rest of the squadron was.


OOC:
203 Words Been busy with stuff sorry for it being so short.
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FM/PO1 Rocketman/A-2/S:26 "Tu'kata"/W:1 "Javelin"/mSSD Atrus/TF:A/1Flt/SFC/VEN/VE
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Trevor Evenson
ComNet Member
 
Trevor Evenson
 
[VE-DJO] Uninitiate
[VE-NAVY] Lt. Commander
 
Post Number:  838
Total Posts:  860
Joined:  Aug 2005
Status:  Offline
  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
March 23, 2010 9:53:26 PM    View the profile of Trevor Evenson 
Trevor was just about at the bottom of his Blue Milk when the waitress who was filling Amacuse's glass snatched his up as well, topping it off for him. He nodded his thanks and took his glass back, but the waitress waited next to him for a moment. When she realized he wasn't going to tip her, she glared at him and stalked off. Although it seemed like quite a sharp contrast compared to his generosity at the casino, he had a good reason for it. Tipping after each drink added up, and he prefered to tip when he was paying his final bill. Not only that, but if the server could stay cheerful towards him after not being tipped, he or she would get an even better tip in the end.

Shortly after the waitress had left, Hunter returned, this time with another pilot, at least, Trevor assumed. He had never seen the Mon Cal before, and they were in fact rather uncommon in VE territories. The majority of the Mon Cal he had heard of serving with any sort of military forces beyond their own were members of the NR, and they generally served on capitol ships.

"I don't think we've met, I'd probably remember." Trevor said, being the first at the table to greet the pilot. "I'm Trevor, and I take it you're flying with us?"

"I am. I have been for a while actually. I'm Thel, but my callsign is Stewart-Power." Thel said, shaking Trevor's hand.

"Ah, my apologies. I've been away for a while. I didn't know we had any Mon Cal flying with us. Any good?” Trevor asked, sitting back in his seat after leaning forward to shake hands. He liked this so far, everything felt the way he could remember. That same excitement was back in the air, even though they might not be taking flight anytime soon. When they did, he could tell he was going to get a rush like he did the first time, in a way he hadn't felt in years.

“I like to think I am. Not in a cocky way, of course. I'm still alive though, so I must not be too bad. That or I'm really lucky.” Thel replied, taking his own seat and attempting to flag down a waitress. He was right, and Trevor knew that.

Luck could play a bigger part than skill could in piloting. In his own experience, Trevor would have to chalk survival up to luck at least nine times out of ten. He could recall many crashes, dogfights, and other scenarios where he simply 'lucked out'. An enemy would lose control during a high speed dog fight, or he would miss the huge trees while spiralling out of control after taking damage and instead skid through snow or skip across water. He believed he was a skilled pilot, but he also believed he wouldn't be that way if he didn't have the huge amount of luck he seemed to have.

“Luck is a huge factor in piloting, as much as any pilot would hate to admit it,” Hunter quipped, looking up from his datapad, which had beeped only a moment ago. “We all rely on it at some point, and many of us would be dead a hundred times over if it wasn't for it.” He continued, casting a glance at Trevor. The two had flown together a few times on missions where Nazgul and Viper had worked together, and it was common for stories to spread from one squadron to another. There was no doubt that Hunter knew of at least half the times Trevor had come close to death.

“True,” Rutian said. “Many pilots have lucky charms or clothing or something, whether they seem to know it or not. Just watch, and count how many in the squadron seem to wear the same shirt or pants or something whenever they fly.”

“Hah, some of us just wear the same pants because they are too soiled from...excitement, for anything else.” Trevor said with a laugh, gaining a few chuckles from the group. This is great, really. Everyone seems to get along for the most part, and that's good. Let's just hope there is some trust there as well, because if not, that could mean disaster in the sky. It's bad to lose a pilot and friend to a better pilot. It's worse when they don't trust you to save them and try some crazy manuever when all they have to do is give you a second to get behind their attacker. He thought, glancing around the table. I hate to say it though, but until I've seen these guys fly, at least in a sim, I can't trust any of the ones I don't know.

Trevor could see the sun was setting outside the windows of the bar, and the bar owner didn't plan on compensating. The bar itself was getting darker, it seemed, but a few moments later the regular music stopped and few lights pointed on a curtain hanging in front of a stage set farther back in the bar. A few solid drum beats could be heard before other instruments joined in, and the curtain spread to reveal a different band. The music was loud, but no louder than the bar had been before. Trevor felt himself relax a little bit and he almost felt like it was time to gt something alcoholic, but his mind was arguing with him, telling him not to. He decided to agree with his mind for now and leaned back in his chair, watching the conversation going on between the other pilots, listening and trying to get further clues into their personalities.

OOC:
WC: 958. It coulda gone longer but really my mind isn't here anymore today. I might try and post again tomorrow or Thursday. Friday I'm going to a concert so yeah.
FM/LCM/Trevor Evenson/A-4/S:26 Tuk'ata/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!
Amacuse
ComNet Novice
 
Amacuse
 
[VE-NAVY] Leading Crewman
 
Post Number:  78
Total Posts:  1046
Joined:  Feb 2010
Status:  Offline
  RE: Tuk'ata: The Beginning
April 5, 2010 1:20:34 AM    View the profile of Amacuse 
Cayden listened to the conversation at the table for a little while, and laughed when Trevor made the comment about the soiled pants.  He too noticed that it was getting darker, then remembered something.  Damnit... I'm supposed to call Ashley so we can spend some time together before we leave...

Cayden stood up to leave when Hunter spoke up.  "Going somewhere, Cayden?"

He turned to face the SC and said "I have a call I need to make.  I also might have to leave in a little bit... I made a promise to my friend that I'd meet her later tonight."

Hunter leaned lack into the chair and smiled.  "Well, two of us haven't arrived yet, and I'm not expecting them to at this point, seeing how late it is," he said, looking out the window.

"Thank you, Hunter," Cayden said, smiling.  He walked to the counter and told the bar owner that he had to make a call.  The bar owner grunted in acknowledgement and Cayden walked outside.  He moved to just to the left of the doorway and grabbed his communicator.  He was about to enter the receiver code for Ashley's comm when he noticed several people in light brown cloaks staring at him from across the street.  He studied them and noticed that they wore the colors of the Imperialist Army on Onderon.  "Oh, you MUST be joking... they couldn't have followed Ashley here..." he whispered to himself, moving his hand to rest on his blaster.

The four men in the cloaks walked across the street and stopped in front of Cayden.  The one in the front, wearing the rank badge of a Captain, spoke up.  "Excuse me sir, but you wouldn't have happened to have noticed a female wearing an Onderonian uniform in there?"

Cayden looked at the man and said through clenched teeth "You have five seconds to turn around and walk away, Imperialist soldier."

One of the men started to turn around in fear, but was stopped by one of the others.  The Imperialist captain spoke up again.  "And, who are you to be giving us orders?  As far as I can tell, you're just a lowly TIE pilot, enjoying his off-duty time before being shipped off to die for a failing government."

Cayden grabbed the captain by the collar of his cloak, turned around, and slammed him against the wall.  "I will give you one last chance: leave now, or suffer the consequences."

The captain shoved him away and straightened his cloak.  "And just who the hell are you, Imperial scum?"

Cayden drew his blaster and pointed it at the captain's face.  "My name is Cayden Tavers, Prince of Onderon... and if you value your lives, you will turn around and leave at once!"

The captain and his men laughed.  Cayden looked around at them in confusion.  "What the hell is so damn funny?!?" he asked, pointing his blaster back at the captain.

"Its just that... we find the heir to the Throne of Onderon in the absolute last place in the galaxy," he said, un-snapping his cloak.

"The... heir to the Throne...?  It... can't be true..." Cayden said, the blaster starting to lower.

The captain noticed this and said "Grab him!"

The soldiers tried to make a grab at him, but instead bumped into each other as Cayden dropped to the ground in a crouch.  He grabbed the collars of two of the soldiers and slammed their heads together, rendering them unconscious.  The other soldier made a grab for his blaster, but was waved off by the captain.  "No more... we'll be back, your Highness... just be ready to die when we do!" he said as they grabbed their two unconscious comrades, turned around, and ran down the street into the shadows.

Cayden watched them run away, then straightened himself up.  The heir to the Throne?  Its not possible... what about Angie and Cameron?  They couldn't have died... not this soon... he thought as he took his communicator back out and started calling Ashley.

[[Hello?]]

"Ashley, its Cayden.  Are you busy right now?" he asked, trying to hide his rapid breathing.  I haven't had to defend myself since...  Then he remembered what he did after he left Onderon.  Since Rhen Var... It can't be the same Mon Cal... the odds are astronomical!

[[I'm not particularly busy right now... why?  Did you want to meet now?]]

He snapped out of his trance when he heard Ashley's voice.  "Yeah, umm... where are you staying?  I'm coming to you," he said, trying to stay calm.

[[Why Cayden?  What's wrong?]]

"It's not safe for either of us to be walking out right now... I just got attacked by several Imperialist soldiers..." he said, trying not to sound ridiculous.

[[Imperial soldiers?  But, aren't they on your side?]]

"No, no... not Imperial soldiers... Onderonian Imperialist soldiers..." he clarified.

[[... I'm staying at the Abrae Inn... be careful Cayden...]]

"I will be, Ashley... I'll be there as soon as I can."  He looked around to make sure it was clear.  "I love you, Ferocia."

[[I love you too Amacuse.]]

He switched off his communicator and looked for a speeder.  Damn... nothing nearby... not even a cab... I should tell Hunter that I'll be missing for some time... he thought, switching the communicator back on.  "Hunter, its Cayden."

[[Cayden... you coming back soon or what man?]]

"Actually, Hunter... something came up and I need to go take care of it immediately," he said, trying not to sound anxious.

[[Let me guess... girl trouble?]]

"Something like that..." he said.  That works...  "I'll be back in about two hours."

[[Alright, go do what you gotta do... we aren't going anywhere.]]

"Thanks..." he said, hanging up.  Alright... now to get a cab...  He saw a cab coming up and he tried to flag it down, but it just sped past.  Another one came up behind him as he watched the first one leave and stopped.

"Hey!  You need a lift?" the cab driver called out.

Cayden smiled.  "Yes indeed.  Can you take me to the Abrae Inn?" he asked, leaning into the window.

"Sure thing, son.  Hop in," the driver said, opening the rear door.

Cayden climbed in and said "Thank you... you have no idea what I've had to deal with tonight..."

"I'm sure I heard it all, so it'd be nothing new for me..." he said, pulling the speeder cab out into the flow of traffic.

"Well, I found out my father died, I reported in to my squadron, I met my girlfriend who I left on our home planet, I was attacked by several rebel soldiers from our home planet, I fear my entire family may be dead, and now I'm rushing to find her before the rebels do," Cayden said, trying to keep calm.

The driver turned to face him for a second and said "That's a first for me... All that happened in one day?"

"Yep... I can't wait to see what tomorrow will be like..." he said, looking out the window, watching the setting sun.

The driver nodded his head and continued driving, heading towards a building that would look more at home on Coruscant, rather than Abrae.  He stopped in front of the building and said "Here we are, sir... the Abrae Inn."  Cayden moved to grab several credits to pay the man, but he said "There's no need to pay... its on the house."

"Thank you," he said, climbing out of the cab.

"And sir?" the driver said, leaning over to the window.  Cayden turned around to face the man.  "Good luck with everything... I have a feeling that it will all be better soon."

Cayden smiled.  "Thank you, and good night sir."

"Good night, son," the driver said, pulling away.

Cayden watched the cab disappear into the distance, then turned around to face the Abrae Inn.  How in the hell did they build this thing here?  He shrugged and walked in.  The second he walked in, he was almost tackled to the ground by a familiar body, and greeted by a familiar voice.

"Cayden!" Ashley said, jumping on him.  "I've been so worried about you!"

"Its alright," he said, hugging her tightly.  "I'm fine, Ashley... do you think we can go somewhere quiet so that we can talk?"

Ashley smiled.  "Sure thing, Cayden," she said, letting go.

They walked over to the elevators and waited for one to come down.  The doors opened, and they entered one.  Ashley quickly pressed the button for the 7th floor, and the doors slid shut quickly.  When the elevator started going up, they both turned towards each other and started kissing passionately.

"Oh my God I missed you so much!" Cayden said, kissing her repeatedly.

"I have too... its been torture being away from you these past months!" she said, kissing him back.

Then they looked at the counter and noticed it was on the 6, so they broke away quickly and straightened up before the doors slid open on the 7th floor.  They walked out and headed to the left, trying to move quickly though the hall.  Ashley stopped in front of her room and opened it with her key.  They both hurried inside and locked the door behind them.

"Alright... what first?" she asked, moving her hand slowly down his chest and stopping at his waist.

Cayden smiled, then remembered their promise all those years ago.  "Not what you're hinting at... discussion only," he said, resisting the urge to just "do it" there.

Ashley smiled.  "Good boy... you remembered.  Now, let's discuss this incident with the soldiers."

"Well, they came up to me, asking if I had seen you.  So, I told them to leave.  They continued to remain, so I took one of them, a captain, threw him up against the wall, and, this time, threatened them to leave.  He pushed me away, so I drew my blaster and told them who I was.  They laughed at me, so I asked them what was so funny.  They told me that they'd been looking for me, and that I was the only heir to the Onderonian Throne.  They attacked me, so I dropped to the ground, and they ran into each other.  While they were disoriented, I grabbed two of them by the collar and slammed them together, knocking them unconscious.  The captain and the other one picked them up and ran away," he said, sitting on the bed.

You aren't the only heir to the Throne... I just spoke to Angie and Cameron a few days ago.  They wanted me to tell you, if I did find you, that they support what you are doing and that they hope you'll return to Onderon soon," she said, sitting next to him.  "But Cayden... if they know you're here, won't they keep coming after you?"

"They probably will, seeing as how they would have orders to either apprehend or kill me on penalty of death... but, I have something else to tell you," he said.

"What's that, Cayden?" she said, looking puzzled.

"I have a ship for us to continue with our plan," he said, smiling.

She looked at him for a minute, then it dawned on her.  "Cayden... you can't mean... our plan to get married, do you?"

He nodded.  "The very same.  I recently purchased a Gozanti Cruiser, named the Etere Videum."

"Etere Videum... eternal legacy in ancient Onderonian..." she said, smiling.  "You remembered..." she added on, burying her face into his chest.

"Consider it an early wedding gift, Ashley," he said, holding her close.  "She's in Landing Bay 41, ready to go... all she needs is the key to start her up, and a pilot eager to fly her."

"But Cayden... your duties here..." she started.

"I'll take care of my duties here... I need you to take care of the Etere Videum while I'm on duty.  Otherwise, once I'm off-duty, we'll be traveling the galaxy... maybe return to Onderon to fulfill a promise I made to the Queen," he said, grinning uncontrollably.

Cayden looked up at the clock and noticed that it has only been twenty minutes since he called Hunter.  "Well, you still want to go eat?" he asked, standing up.

Ashley looked up and smiled.  "Indeed I do, Cayden... where at?"

"I know of a little place not too far from here that has the best sandwiches on this side of Abrae," he said helping Ashley up off the bed.  They walked out of the room and saw several soldiers coming up the hall.

"Maybe eating isn't such a good idea..." Ashley said, looking behind them to make sure it was clear.

"Maybe you're right... let's go back to the bar... I'm sure my squadron mates won't be too rough..." he said as they both turned around and started walking the opposite way towards the emergency stairs.  They ran down the seven flights, and walked out the back door into the streets of Abrae.

They walked for about fifteen minutes when Cayden thought of something.  "Come on," he said, taking Ashley into the nearest clothing store.

"Cayden... why are we here?" she asked, looking puzzled.

"We need to get new outfits... they'll be looking for what we have on now," he said, looking on the men's rack for new clothing.

"Alright, I'll see what I can find..." she said, heading over to the women's clothing to pick out something.

They searched for several minutes when two Onderonian soldiers walked into the store.  They looked over, looked at each other, and began hurrying faster.  Cayden found a leather jacket, and blue collared shirt, and a pair of jeans and took them to the back register to meet up with Ashley, who was holding a black, long-sleeve top and a knee-length red skirt.  He purchased the items and they went to the restrooms to change into the new clothes.  When they got out, they hid out of the soldiers' field of vision and left the store, heading towards the bar.

They ran for several minutes when they stopped in front of the bar.  Cayden looked around, then said "Alright, no sign of them... looks like we lost them... ready to meet my squadron?"

She sighed.  "As ready as I'll ever be... let's go," she said, grabbing his hand.

They walked into the bar and headed over to the table that the rest of Tuk'ata was.

"Cayden!  I thought you said two hours... and when did you change your clothes?  And... who is this young lady?" he asked, looking at Ashley.

"I did say two hours... change of plans.  Everyone, I'd like you all to meet Ashley Clearwater, my girlfriend from Onderon," he said, introducing Ashley.  "Ashley, this is Chief Warrant Officer Hunter Morrell, our Squadron Commander.  This is Lt. Commander Trevor Evenson, Petty Officer Second Class Saul Aquila, Master Chief Petty Officer Rutian, the squadron XO, and..." he stopped, looking for Stewart.  "Wasn't there a Mon Cal here?"

"Yeah, he had to go use the restroom... he'll be back in a little while," Hunter said, sitting down.

"Alright, I guess we'll both meet him when he gets back," Cayden said.  "Here, why don't you sit here..." he said, offering Ashley his seat next to Trevor.

"Why thank you, Cayden," she said, sitting down.  He pulled up a chair and sat down right next to her.

OOC:
WC: 2562
This is by far my biggest post yet... I'm so proud! ^_^  I really hope you guys don't mind that I dragged Ashley to the meeting... it is a one-time thing... as you can tell by my post, it was kind of the safest place he could think of at the moment.

Sorry Stewart... I sent you to the restroom before we could reunite... Oh, and do not come back too soon...
Wouldn't work if we haven't finished the other story, now would it?  XD

Feel free to ask me questions pertaining to Ashley's character, in case you need to know more about her.
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