A New Beginning: Rogue Transfer

[Progflaw99]

A New Beginning: Rogue Transfer​

​

Location: Sullust, Galactic Alliance Hangar, Home of Rogue Squadron
Time: 1300 Standard Time

The shuttle had taken longer than he'd expected to reach Sullust. They hadn't been far but he now realized he'd have less than an hour once they landed to locate his check-in location. Briefly glancing at his datapad as the occupants of the shuttle began to exit the craft, he saw he'd be reporting directly to Rogue Leader. As he stepped off the shuttle into a hangar, he saw crews working tirelessly to repair some damaged craft, a menagerie of X-wings and B-wings as well as other craft scattered about the bay. Early in the morning he'd been paged and given his transfer orders, . As he looked around, he realized just how large this facility was. He'd need to figure out where to go, and how to get there. Pausing by a corridor, he opened his data pad and began accessing the intranet, looking for a map of some sort. The clock was ticking, 30 minutes and counting till he needed to report in. He hoped he could find his way around.

Lifting his eyes from where they were busy tracing a map, he looked around him. None of the map he was looking at seemed to represent anything he could see. Maybe he was looking at it the wrong way. He struggled with it for a moment, his seabag of personal belongings slung over his shoulder. Finally giving up, he walked over to a small group of what appeared to be pilots, some sitting on overturned crates and a few standing. Waiting for a brief lull in their conversation he chimed in.

"Excuse me... I'm looking for Rogue Squadron?"

The group of pilots looked Vale up and down, a few sideways glances at each other, a particularly attractive looking Twi'lek pilot stepping in. She gave him a once over, smiling as she spoke.

"Of course dear, they're right that way. You can't miss them, if you follow the corridor there..." She motioned towards the corridor he'd been standing by previously. "...and take the first left, you'll have to go up two flights of stairs. Don't worry about announcing yourself, just walk right in. First door at the top of the stairs." She gave him a wink, her smile remaining as she went back to talking to the other pilots.

Vale narrowed his eyes slightly, but turned and headed towards the corridor she'd pointed out. He was eager to get checked in. As his footsteps took him down the corridor he tried to keep track of the layout, he never knew when he'd need to know how to navigate the base here. As he approached the top of the stairs, his eyes could see what looked like a door to the left... but it wasn't a room. It wasn't even a cabin. There beside the door was a placard. It read: "Garbage Disposal Chute 13". As he turned around, he could hear laughter coming from down the two sets of stairs he'd just traversed.

"Go on then, better check in! kaae bo!" the Twi'lek shouted in Huttese.

Vale bit his tongue, taking a deep breath. He looked at his data pad. Only about twenty minutes left. He'd have to find someone else to ask, apparently he had newbie written all over him, the only thing he'd get from a lot of the veteran pilots here were jokes and insults. He descended the stairs the way he'd came, the corridor empty by the time he arrived. Now standing at the bottom of the stairs, he tried once more to locate an installation map on the intranet.

[member="Alexandra Russo"]​

 

[Alexandra Porte]

Flight Commander Alexandra "Alleycat" Russo, CO of Rogue Squadron
Sullust, Galactic Alliance Base
Rogue Leader's Office - off main hangar
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Alleycat opened the door to the Commanding Officer of Rogue Squadron's office with the newly acquired access code and hit the light switch panel on the wall. The small pillbox of a room with a desk, two chairs in front and a metal filing cabinet smelled of the former Rogue Leader's aftershave; Old Spice or something Force awful like that. Now Swagger, that was a different story, but for another time.

The man's things had been removed and hers placed inside though still in the boxes, well one. Russo traveled light. It was full of framed holos of her academy days and past squadrons she'd flown with and a couple of citations too received over the years. It also had a caf maker in it and a bottle of Corellian whiskey with two versatile mugs for hot or cold drinks. She was only twenty-six, though in pilot years that was well-seasoned if one started when they were just out of academy diapers. But enough about her for the moment, there was a new recruit reporting for duty today, a transfer in from Blue Squadron… and a strong pot of caf needed to be made before anything else got done including hanging the holopics on the wall behind the functionary desk.

Was the Flight Commander nervous about this new responsibility? Hell yeah, but Alex had been around long enough to know you didn't get to this coveted spot unless those around you had faith in you… Hopefully she had enough faith still left in herself to do the job that needed to be done right the first time.

"Think of me when you doubt yourself." [member="Kahne Porte"] told the Rogue upon their first meeting, but the problem was she though about the Jedi Master all the time now for other reasons, and there was no doubt about those.

The brandy-eyed brunette left the office door open to air it out a bit, plus she didn't mind the jet fuel smell and background noise of the hangar bay. The transferee would find his new CO sitting at the desk wearing a flight jacket over the typical rebel orange flight suit the Alliance starfighter pilots wore as it was cold in the hangar, perusing a datapad going over the latest SIMM scores for the squadron, which were before she took over. Looks like there was room for improvement, but wasn't there always?

[member="Vale Endriss"]

 

[Progflaw99]

As he tabbed through the intranet he finally located his location. His eyes flicked to the corner of the pad. Ten minutes remaining. Quickly looking up to get his bearings, he shoved the data pad back into the thigh pocket on his one piece flight suit. According to the instructions he'd received he was to arrive in working gear. Roughly shouldering the large seabag, he quickly made his way along the outside of the hangar, heading for a corridor on the other side. He had to stop a few times for various crews transporting weapons and gear across his path but he still had about five minutes to go by the time he arrived at the corridor. Now all he had left was a quick right, and at the end of the hall, there should have been the CO's office. He scurried as fast as he could, the seabag wobbling back and forth on his shoulder as he moved down the hall. A few people gave him strange looks as he passed by them but he paid them no attention. He had to make it on time.

As he finally approached the end of the corridor he saw an open door on his left. This should have been it. He pulled up as he approached, taking a moment to catch his breath. He didn't have long but he didn't want to show up huffing and puffing. Swiftly reaching backwards and pulling the other strap over his left shoulder, he now wore the bag like an over-large backpack. He took a deep breath and wiped sweat away from his brow with his sleeve. Crunch time. He hated reporting in, something about the higher ups always gave him the heeby jeebees. He could always deal with it over the radio, but he always felt like he was going to do something wrong and they'd call him out on it. He shook his head slightly. Time to get on with it. He stepped forward, right next to the doorway.

On the wall was a shiny square panel, it practically emanated its own light it was so smooth. As he'd been taught when he first signed up with the Galactic Alliance, he formed a fist and slammed the panel as hard as he could, opening his mouth in a loud voice.

"Vale Endriss, reporting for duty as ordered Sir!"

He stood there, waiting for the command to enter as he had times before. He tensed his jaw. Well, if the pilots hadn't known he was a newbie before, they likely did now. At 24 years old, Vale looked hardly a hair over 20. He wasn't abnormally short or small, but he definitely wasn't GA Infantry. He tried to take deep breaths, still somewhat fatigued from his hustle across the hangar. In his peripheral vision he could already see he was in trouble.

*Sithspit*

The CO was apparently a woman. He'd checked before he arrived, the CO was most definitely a male, they even had a photo of him up on the intranet. Maybe he'd gotten mixed up again and shown up to the wrong office. He contemplated that as he stood there, wondering just what he'd gotten himself into. The way things were going, he was already going to be the brunt of many jokes.

[member="Alexandra Russo"]​

 

[Alexandra Porte]

Rogue Leader's dark head rose up from where she was seated behind the desk with a datapad in hand as the commotion outside her door had gotten her attention. One of her sienna brow's quirked up as obviously this must be the new pilot, who was reporting for duty.

Was I that overly excited when I got called up to the show? Alex asked herself amusingly.

"Ah… Flight Officer Endriss. I've been expecting you. Please have a seat," she greeted with a friendly yet professional nod, then motioned to one of the two chairs in front of the desk.

"I am Commander Alexandra Russo, callsign Alleycat. I will be your commanding officer. The former CO was recently promoted to CAG so now I will be leading Rogue Squadron… I hope that clears up any confusion there might have been," the brunette stated, then reached for another datapad off the top of the many stacks piled up and slid it over to him across the desktop.

This was the part of leadership Alleycat hated the most… The paperwork! She couldn't wait until an executive officer could be named to help with the daily business of running the elite squadron. It could be overwhelming at times especially dealing with a bunch of roguish pilots not to mention the brass.

"Make sure you give that datapad a good read through before tomorrow. It is your bible from now on, but the highlights are these. You've been assigned Rogue Eight as your call number. I am still reviewing the squadron as a whole to see what to do with flights and wing pairs. That will be assigned on a mission by mission basis for now."

The brandy-eyed Commander paused for a moment to let that much sink in before continuing her spiel.

"You'll find an official Rogue Squadorn bling in the Galactic Alliance forum. Please put in in your sig. You're free until 0800 hours tomorrow when there will a general briefing for all pilots. I suggest you find where the essentials are located on base, get your quarters in order, check out your T-70 and request an astromech droid from the quartermaster. Do you have any questions for me at this time?"

[member="Vale Endriss"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Vale smartly swung around the corner as the woman inside instructed him to take a seat. His crisp movements somewhat odd in contrast with the CO's relaxed manner. As he entered, he frantically tried to figure out what to do with his seabag, deciding that it would be better to simply set it down next to the vacant chair. Letting it slide off his shoulder, he set it down gently and took a seat facing the desk in front of him. He took mental note, wincing inwardly as he Alexandra confirmed, she was the new CO.

*Well, good going on that one bantha brains*

He acknowledged her statement about the previous CO, reaching out to the datapad as it slid across the smooth surface of the desk. He held it in front of him, eyes scanning it quickly before looking up at the CO again. He'd learned the hard way a few times that people generally appreciated it when you looked at them as they were speaking. It surprised him, now that he was looking directly at her how young she looked. He wasn't the epitome of age either at a measly 24 years standard, but this woman couldn't be much older than himself and she was the CO. Rogue was certainly not cut from the same cloth as Blue Squadron. He nodded as she gave him some basic instructions and advice. As she paused, he looked down at the datapad once more and then back up.

As the CO finished her initial spiel, Vale had already organized the rest of his day into blocks. It was one of his habits, organizing everything. As she asked about questions, he chuckled inwardly. He had many questions, probably more than he knew what to do with, but he would wait and see. He was pretty decent at flying by the seat of his pants, what was the phrase he'd been told time and time again? "Just fly casual". That almost caused him to laugh but he forced it back down. He couldn't think of anything that came to mind in the way of questions, the CO had pretty much addressed anything he might be particularly curious about. Beyond that, he could figure out the rest for himself. No point in burdening his CO, besides, he didn't want to be that guy any more than he already was going to be. He decided to ask one question, and then he'd be quiet.

"What's the rest of the squadron like?"

It was a general question, but he hoped she knew what he was asking. He'd heard a lot of crazy stories about the Rogues, akin to legends. Some of the stories described them as archangels, descending from the heavens and smiting the foes of the Galactic Alliance. Others yet spoke ill of them, claiming them to be nothing but poorly disciplined jumper pilots. They might have had something right if they'd specified unruly, but they were far from undisciplined. Unorthodox maybe, but not undisciplined. He was curious as to the dynamics of the Squadron, and while the CO may not be able to provide him with a comprehensive breakdown (he would have to experience that for himself), he hoped she could give him a general sense of the squadron as a whole.

[member="Alexandra Russo"]​