A Squadron of Rogues

[Tydeus of Tion]

"Berric Kelso," Ryan scratched his chin and stared at the name on his data pad. "Former CorSec, excellent pilot. And..." Korr scrolled down, eyebrows raising slowly, "Quite a few drug related black marks."

The scarred man looked over at Sieb Tevv, the Sullustan Admiral who'd started the Alliance Fleet Initiative in an effort to overhaul the entire system.

Sieb shrugged, "Rogue Squadron isn't picky about background, Master Jedi. So long as they can bring the fight to the enemy and are loyal, we'll take them."

"Alright, who else?"

"Choli Vyn, excellent mechanic, but... illiterate."

Korr stared aghast at Sieb. "Illiterate?"

"Illiterate. Great pilot though."

The Jedi decided it would be best to continue scrolling. "Loske Matson, isn't she already attached to a squadron?"

"Yes, but she's a cut above the rest in terms of skill. She's also proven reckless and forgetful."

"Great."

"It's a start."

Each of the three prospectives were sent an h-mail inviting them to Sieb Tevv's house beneath the surface of Sullust, an informal gathering. The h-mails didn't say way, only that it was important.

[member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Berric Kelso"] | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Alicia Frost"] | [member="Roth Tillian"]

 

[Berric Kelso]

[member="Ryan Korr"]​

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Theme​

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Within the spaceport of an lower burough of Coronet the Correllian sat himself at the small bar there, indulging himself in a drink, his orange flight suit worn below his grey jacket, each shoulder sewn in with a reflective patch bearing the roundel of CORSEC with a rank indication of flight officer beneath. It had been sometime since Berric found himself employed by CORSEC but donning in the less glamorous parts of the city drew away the attention of any petty criminal and the rugged nature of his being made a well enough impression that he wasn't present to enforce law but mind his own business. He didn't bother anyone else and no one else bothered him however his senses constantly scanned the small bar dimly lit with neon colors for suspicious movements, a hand going to a coat, a whisper to another and then a sudden leave all of which put Berric ill at ease as he was surrounded by weary travelers and lowlife. In an effort to subvert his paranoia charged stress the pilot reached into a pocket within his coat, producing a small vial of glitterstim , a powdery spice of mundane appearance. His pale hands nearly trembling as his finger tips trailed to the cap of the vial, pulling it off before reaching his index finger into the vial, taking up some of the power unto the digit before running it along the inside of his bottom lip, shutting his eyes as he felt a wave of calmness was over him before he heard a digital beep emit from the table he sat at.

His now watery vision was filled with the bright blue screen of his holopad, the pilot reluctantly taking ahold of it in his right hand and entering unto the device to reveal an 'h-mail' his dreary eyes reading over the aurabesh text with a furrowed brow. Sieb Tevv's abode on Sullust..two names easily recognizable to the pilot. A high ranking officer and a planet he visited once out of neccessity and would never consider doing so out of leisure but it seemed, this was necessity. It had been too long since the holopad had opened to anything this urgent and with infamiliarity comes ill adjustment. Berric placed the vial back into his coat along with his holopad, placing two bright yellow credit chips on the table before finishing his drink, closing his eyes as he relished in the taste before placing the cup unto the table and making his exit from the bar to his dock on the spaceport where sat his XJ7 model X-wing starfighter and his astromech droid R6-44 plugged into the ship, climbing himself up the ladder to the canopy with metallic steps of his boots against the rungs of chipped yellow paint before sitting himself in the cockpit, his mind well at ease as he slipped his pilot's helmet over his head and planted his right thumb unto the blue lit button to slowly shut the cockpit as the spaceport crew pulled away the ladder and the star fighter vertically lifted from its dock and Berric took control of the throttle, rearing the fighter up and darting it to the atmosphere with closed foils.

Entering open space the pilot then took ahold of his long, grey leather gloves left upon the dashboard and secured them over his hands. "R7...course to Sullust." , the pilot commanded nonchalantly to his droid as it let out affirmative beeps, plugging in the coordinates to the planet into his system before he reared the horizontal hyperspace lever forward, sending the X-wing through a bright blue beam towards the planet, approaching the surface and docking himself at a space port as he sought the house of Sieb Tevv.

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Berric Kelso"]

There was another name on the dossier. It had been put forward tentatively. He'd fought no major actions for the GADF except as a mercenary. Currently in the academy here at Sullust, but his tenure was hanging on by a thread. Unfocused, undisciplined, prone to distractions. He had several marks on his record for smuggling and whilst he had several astronavigation qualifications to his name it seemed he'd been living somewhat 'off the grid' for a few years.

When the academy pilots had conducted an exercise from a Republic cruiser he'd been spotted leaving the CAG's quarters in the small hours, apparently following a bet from a fellow trainee to prove the Alliance recruits were more persuasive than the Republic's.

On the other hand Asmus' Uncle had been one of the smugglers to found the Alliance's Merchant Fleet. The band of smugglers and mercenaries who had saved the Alliance at the Battle of Sullust. The lad was from Eriadu and fiercely loyal to the Alliance. Whatever unusual education he'd been through, he was an exceptionally talented pilot and had a keen intellect when he could be coerced into applying it.

Clad in his cadet jacket and shirt, Asmus rapped on the door.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

After spending the early morning in a shadowboxing routine, and other athletic workout ventures, a routine similar to the intensity of Master Matteo.. Loske had a towel wrapped around her hair and legs against the wall, at a 90 degree angle as she flipped through the most recent publication of Starteen. Her toes were dipping and popping to a rhythm that was magnified by her companion, Frank.

That was until there was an intrusive beep.

Somewhat eager, but not expecting anything, she set the holomag to the side and twisted to her stomach.

"Give 'er a read, Frank." She said simply, giving the towel curled around her golden tresses a wiggle to shake off any excess water that was clinging on for dear life.

The invitation to [member="Sieb Tevv"] was extended, and Loske was, as usual, quite surprised, confused and excited. "Important, eh?"

[Seems so! Which doesn't sound like a uniform occasion.]

"Thank goodness, hate the way that thing rides up when you walk.."

[They were originally created because life support didn't include heating in the cockpit. The necessity for warmth was made apparent very early on. Your complaints would be praises years ago.] Thankfully, the portions of Alexandra's A.I. meant that Frank too, had a wealth of knowledge of history. When he chose to use it was mostly for condescending remarks though. Perhaps he was making Loske more well-rounded.

Either way, he received a wave of her hand in response while the girl slipped off her cot and back into the refresher, hanging up the towel and running a brush through the damp strands, before twisting it in a trio to a loose braid that rested against her shoulder. She shrugged on the Alliance commissioned jacket, plastered with her rank badge, on over her tee and shoved her feet into a pair of ankle boots. At least she had a single element of a uniform.

"I guess we don't have super long - we can take a speeder down there. You're coming."

Resorting back to a more comfortable means of communication, Frank beeped in response and turned the music off, wheeling after his mistress as they exited her bunker and toward the parking for on-planet transportation.

*

With Frank as the navigator, the pair arrived shortly at the doorstep of the issuer of the invitation. Right in time to not have to knock for themselves! Excellent. Loske's knuckles were oh so delicate, and not to be burdened with such tasks. Lol jk. RE: Shadowboxing.

Anyway.

The invitation had CC'd several names, and who was who was not familiar to Loske, apart from [member="Choli Vyn"]. Choli'd been a partial reason for Loske's 2-week suspension following Belsavis. Although the Epicanthix was a talented pilot, she had been an unnofficial voyeur and participant to the airscapades and as a Lieutenant, Loske should have known better. A slap on the wrist was received. She held no animosity - apparently things were turning out for the best. Loske was basically psychic.

"Hey," she chimed, stepping up behind and alongside the other person hovering about the doorway, [member="Asmus Janes"], "Are you Berric or Roth?" She assumed Alicia was not the person's name.

"I'm Loske." The girl added as an offering, along with an extended hand for shaking salutations. A nod cast to her lower left, where Frank rolled in "That's Frank."

A cordial beep was afforded.

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Loske Matson"] [member="Ryan Korr"] [member="Berric Kelso"]

As Asmus turned to face the girl and her droid her thought he did exceptionally well not to reply with if you'd like or some other equally nauseating variant. Not that he had a particular thing for blonde women, though blonde men were another matter. It was just in his nature.

It was gradually being curbed. The life of a cadet was remarkably different yet similar to that of a smuggler. The bravado and showing off to your peers was there. But there was an expectation that discipline was there when necessary. Loske looked young, but he didn't know if she was possibly an officer in her civvies, whilst the boots gave away her occupation.

Besides, he was on perhaps his final warning now. That was, after all, why he assumed he'd been invited to an admiral's quarters. Should be well below his station, but perhaps the admiral was one of those who liked to bring the odd failing cadet in for a pep talk to get them back on track.

"Neither, I'm afraid," he replied, shaking the offered hand. "Cadet Janes...Asmus."

 

[Berric Kelso]

[member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Ryan Korr"]​

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Berric made his way to an Alliance constable's office and used his credentials to procure himself a half-decent land-speeder. Berric then urged his R6 unit aboard with his own weight, sitting him behind him in the passenger seat with deep breaths. "Damn...they need to make these things compatible with...R units, not everyone has one of those roller ball BB bastards...eugh."

The R6 unit only replied with a few affirmative beeps, only seeming to sympathize with the pilot in binary as he made his way to the pilot's seat and produced his holo-pad from his Alliance coat punching in the coordinates to Sieb Tevv's house before manning the ignition and speeding through the volatile landscape towards the house of Sieb Tevv, the trip taking about thirty minutes, parking the landspeeder a good distance away from the house before getting himself out of the vehicle, of course carefully pulling the R6 unit from the back of the landspeeder and lowering him unto the gravel before brushing his gloved hands against one another as he let out a deep breath and started to make his way toward the entrance of the house with a slow drudge of his steps approaching the two with a furrowed brow, hoping they wouldn't yet take notice of him as they begin to converse and takes his vial of glitterstim from his alliance jacket, taking a bit of the mundane substance unto his index finger tip and running it inside his lower lip as he places the cap back unto the vial, glancing between the two.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Oh whoops, well that was a lot more formal than the first-name she'd simply offered.

"Ah, sneaky new addition." Loske replied simply, drawing her hand back after an appropriate amount of up-and-downs in cordial salutations. "Addition to what, though -- any idea what the Admiral might be curious about, Cadet Janes?" Light eyes drifted from his features to the oncoming pilot, this one more obvious where his talents within the Alliance lay. The R-unit and attire gave that away without much inquisition.

Now it was just a matter of was this Berric or Roth.

Frank whistled in salutations to [member="Berric Kelso"]'s company, as friendly as his mistress when the mood struck him. Seeing that Frank was an odd blend of a BB and an R unit, this suited him an appropriate time to establish camaraderie with another astromech.

"So the plot thickens." Loske whispered, mostly to herself but audible to those in the proximity if they had enough interest to incline their ear. "A trio of pilots."

She offered a wave in the direction of Kelso, since he was more keen on applying his lip gloss than joining their huddle. Besides, the door should be opened shortly, seeing as [member="Asmus Janes"] had already knocked.

 

[Berric Kelso]

Berric shut his hazel eyes as he sucked in the glitterstim spice, feeling a sensation of ease of mind wash over him, the Correlian barely able to function socially without a trace of the substance in his system. Without his hands trembled slightly, he was easily paranoid and stressed but as soon as he took in the substance he was put at ease again. Calm, focused, seldom had a worry in the world. His eyes remained closed for the brief moment as he took in the substance before they shot open again with the binary greeting of [member="Loske Matson"] 's BB unit. His eyes opening and his gaze drifting to the droid as his own R6 unit spoke up with several excited beeps of its own in greeting to its fellow astromech counterpart.

Glancing between [member="Asmus Janes"] and [member="Loske Matson"] for a moment he finally spoke up affirmatively with a clear tone, his now tinged senses unable to hear Loske's comment. "So...what um...which ones are you two?"
The pilot spoke up as an awkward and barely feasible means to shoe-horn his way into the conversation of the two. "I'm Berric...Kelso, Berric Kelso if that helps."
He said with a slight chuckle as he stuffed his hands, into the pockets of his grey alliance jacket, looking to the two with a perched brow for their response. His posture relaxed and his appearance the same if a bit dishevel as he wore his flightsuit under his jacket with long black boots strapped to his feet and his hair scraggly with a scruffy five o'clock shadow upon the lower half of his face.

 

[Sieb Tevv]

The door hissed open, revealing the excited faces of two thigh-high Sullustan children. Their large, dark eyes grew even larger at the sight of so many strangers.

[Who is it, Torfel?] asked a deep, pleasant voice in Sullustese.

[Strangers, Papa!] squeaked the children in unison.

An older and quite clearly bald Sullustan came into view behind them, his mouth flaps stretched as he smiled. "Not strangers, Dienne, guests," he said in basic, for the benefit of the others.

Shooing the children out of the way so that he could approach the door, the Sullustan extended a hand to each of the exceptional individuals in turn. He was short by human standards, with large ears and an unassuming aura about him.

"Hello, hello, I'm Sieb Tevv. I'm sure you all don't want to wait out in the hall, come inside."

He put gentle hands on each of his childrens backs and led them out of the way again, chuckling as he did so. "These are Torfel and Dienne, my two youngest. My wife Selieb is in the kitchen cooking a meal for us all. Here, have a seat on the couches."

Sieb led them into a living room area. The walls were all dark, volcanic stone typical to Sullust, but a huge variety of minerals and gems in vases sat on tables and dressers. Crystals, opals, jade and some so rare they didn't have any names at all, just numbers and letters. Sieb caught their eyes on the ornaments and nodded.

"Mementos from a lifetime of deepspace mining."

The couches themselves were simple affairs of dark leather. In fact, most of the shades of the house seems to be dark, or else they glittered. A bit like a cave full of marvelous gemstones.

[member="Berric Kelso"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Roth Tillian"] | [member="Alicia Frost"] | [member="Choli Vyn"]

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Berric Kelso"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | Asmus Janes | [member="Roth Tillian"] | [member="Alicia Frost"] | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Sieb Tevv"]

Asmus eased himself into one of the offered chairs, a rather bemused expression on his face. He'd picked up a bit of sullustan since coming to the academy here, but it was far from perfect so he was glad the Admiral was a fluent basic speaker.

Loske had asked him a question and he had missed the opportunity to reply. However, he now gave her a look that said not this. Asmus had expected a lesson, a grilling or a final warning. This had an altogether too pleasant air for that.

"They're very pretty," he said to the Admiral. "Oh and Asmus Janes," he informed Berric.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Loske Matson." she replied to [member="Berric Kelso"] before the door hissed. When the door opened, it wasn't Loske who made first eye contact. It was Frank - for he was the appropriate height.

[Hello there!] He recited happily, not in typical droid beeps, but rather sullustese - as the pair would be accustomed to. This was the benefit of Frank's knowledgeable AI - mostly, adaptability for conversation.

Azure gaze immediately dropped closer to her shins when the space in front of her was void, and she couldn't help but feel that wan pang of jealousy, emptiness and desire in her belly. When it came to exposure to families, Loske had this innate, insatiable desire to belong; and it could only be explained from her lack of having a Matson crew. She'd never known her parents, nor their reason for not being a part of her life. Why they'd chosen to abandon her, she couldn't say - but she was dying to know..if they were still alive. Seeing the two children interact with their father, and have mention of a mother just footsteps away made her smile weakly, her face softening pleasantly in emotive support for the quartet of Tevvs. Her hand was taken in the shorter species' and given a prompt shake. She was glad that he initiated it, for she had a terrible habit of holding on just a little too long so that it became uncomfortable. Or so she was told. (Lie. False memory from Republic Era planted from some holovid of an awkward teen.)

Glittery ornaments caught her eye now, like a crow. And that pleasant façade curled to gentle awe. She'd never seen so much value in such a confined space - and certainly not of this level. Perhaps some of Sarge's ornaments on Naboo rivalled the stone in monetary weight, but in pure, striking impression? Not even close.

She shrugged in response to [member="Asmus Janes"], confirming her lack of knowledge as well. Once that last bit of communication was out there, she allowed herself to become totally absorbed in the shining gems.

"These are gorgeous," Loske offered as her fingertips hovered dangerously close to a gem in front of her on the coffee table as she took a seat. It was as if there was an invisible force field around it, millimeters thick, that she was testing precariously. She was wholly captured, and Frank hummed cautiously next to her - warning her not to touch it before [member="Sieb Tevv"] had to. She had a bad habit of disregarding the sanctity of personal ownership. "All from different planets?"

 

[Berric Kelso]

[member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Sieb Tevv"]


Berric offered a nod to the two as they introduced themselves before he snapped his gaze to the entrance of the home of Sieb Tevv, glancing to his children as they exited the house with a raised brow before following the two into the Sullustan home. His eyes widen as he looked about the alien furniture and decorations with a perked brow. Clearly enticed by the gems, representing something of beauty yet raw earth that he had seldom seem in the sprawling Coronet, it captivated an almost childlike interest of Berric's no doubt enhanced by the effects of the spice currently in his system. He removed the leather flight gloves from his pale hands, placing them between the leather gun belt and the waist band of his jumpsuit, equipped with a holster holding a mundane blaster pistol, though obviously not planning to put it to any use on this visit to Sullust. Kelso seldom spent a moment without bearing arms, habit and instinct from his long tenure as a CORSEC officer.

Berric's R6 unit followed its owner into the cave home, slugging behind the group as it was an evidently older model, the beeps it emitted in greeting crackled and stuttered, its chassis decorated with chipped and worn paint, initially a dark green paint with crimson over it and various illegible technical information written in aurabesh. Berric remained silent as he sat himself unto one of the leather sofas, sitting himself with a stiff posture as the others sat themselves down as well, curious as to why these three people were assembled on a world wrought with volatile volcanic activity to meet with an Admiral of the Galactic Alliance. The pilot assuming great importance in him was discovered or he is being court marshaled for his what he hoped was subtle spice usage.

 

[Juggerduck]

The Neti slither-shambled into [member="Ryan Korr"]'s office.

"Heya, sir?" he said in a deep, earthy voice. "'Sup, and stuff? I'm Encouragement Gets. Somebody told me to come see you about joining Rogue Squadron, which, y'know, yeah, ya dig? 'Swat I'm here for. Pilot. X-Wing. Wanna fly one."

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Berric Kelso"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Sieb Tevv"] [member="Encouragement Gets"]

Asmus sat forwards in his chair, making an attempt to look as attentive as possible. The officers in the academy had a habit of getting awfully wound up about the way he slouched.

"So where are you both serving at the moment?" Asmus asked the pair of pilots. Currently a cadet, he was interested to find out what kind of company he was in.

 

[Tydeus of Tion]

An auburn haired man with stern, scarred features turned around in his seat as a large Neti squirmed through the door and into his personal quarters at the Jedi Enclave on Sullust. A rather alarming prospect, but the Jedi Master expressed no surprise beyond a furrowed brow.

"Excuse me?" Korr's storm-gray eyes narrowed in suspicion. "That's classified information, Citizen Gets. Sieb Tevv is who you want to see. Here. I'll escort you to his house."

[member="Encouragement Gets"]

 

[Sieb Tevv]

"Planets, asteroids, comets and a number of other odd rocks floating through space," Sieb's mouth flapped breathily, "Now then, I'll make it quick because I can smell dinner cooking from here. You have all been selected as potential candidates in a new squadron. All of you are exceptionally skilled... and all of you are exceptionally handicapped by vices or otherwise. A dirty dozen, some might say. A squadron of rogues."

He sniffed the air.

"Sieb, help me set the table," came a female Sullustan's voice.

Rear Admiral Tevv looked at all the pilots, smiling. "She runs a tight ship. Discuss, converse. Mull over the offer. Then we will eat."

[member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Berric Kelso"] | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Encouragement Gets"]

 

[Berric Kelso]

[member="Sieb Tevv"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Encouragement Gets"] | [member="Loske Matson"]

The pilot leaned his back against the cushion of the couch as he drew his glance around the room, dark and alien to him as Berric was more accustomed to the apartments of Corellia, seldom imagining himself dwelling in a cave like this, he didn't look down on it was primitive because it clearly wasn't, captured his interest before Asmus spoke up, the Corellian looking over to him and replying.

"Well I was in CORSEC for a good few years, flew quite a bit there before jumping ship and signing up with the alliance, so far I haven't done too much with them.", Berric said, speaking a neutral tone that matched his placid expression.

 

[Juggerduck]

"Oh, yeah? Well, thanks, kid. Sir. Sir? Yeah."

Gets followed [member="Asmus Janes"], arriving in time to hear [member="Sieb Tevv"] 's introductory remarks.

"I wanna fly," offered the Neti in a deep wet voice.

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Sieb Tevv"][member="Berric Kelso"][member="Encouragement Gets"][member="Loske Matson"]

Asmus did mull the proposal over for a while. His eyes focused intently on the collection of rocks, mapping out each facet and noting how they caught the light. Having his failings brought right down in front of him was rather...jarring.

He knew he wasn't perfect, but to be lumped with a group of problem children was almost upsetting. But in the end Asmus tended to see the sunny side of every situation. They also thought he was talented.

"Where would we fly from and what kind of missions would we be doing?" he asked.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Fingertips curled back into her lap when [member="Sieb Tevv"] responded to her question, appropriately referring back to his happy home. She smiled wistfully at the reflection of comfort, and his dedication to the family. A twinge of envy flickered in her belly, and she looked down at her nails to distract herself from dwelling on what she did not have.

Instead now, she had some sort of offer.

A former CORSEC officer, a rag-tag team indeed, and a new, rather frightful looking fellow, all seemed to wedge their way into cockpits.

Hold on - did he say vice? She frowned deeply. She didn’t drink, nor anything else! Straight as an arrow. She must be in the wrong place, save for the compliment on her daring flying.

[member="Asmus Janes"] had a valid question.

“Probably something more exciting than scouting missions - wouldn’t mind a tangle without getting suspended.” Which had happened to her last time she’d called her own shots. “Is that so - would the missions be more off the record?

Who do we report to? Responsibilities?” Rogue had a lot of implications. If they messed up, were they responsible to show up for a trial, or would they be written off with a license to kill or whatever.

“Aaand do we get new ships.”

So many questions! Frank beeped scoldingly at his teen companion, reminding her to try and keep a little bit of a lid on it to allow for some questions to be answered.

Her stomach growled in protest, once the kitchen’s aroma wafted to her seat. Praise be that trait to her sire.