A Squadron of Rogues

[Areiana_Slayer]

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

Areiana had never been in the academy or anything like that but she had been a pilot since the day she was born. Her father had been a Smuggler and trained her from the day she was old enough till the day he died and she cont to pilot long after he was gone. She also was a Jedi or she would have been if her father was still tec a Jedi. He left the Jedi after he married her mother and tho he had trained her in both piloting and the force she was not able to finish her training before he died. She chose to hide her Force powers as best as she could even having her lightsaber in two pieces on her belt.
She wasn't bad looking for a smuggler, long Dark almost blood red hair that went down to her waist and wore in a tight braid but the unique thing about her was her eyes. She had different color eyes, her right was Jade green and her left was a dark blue. She was dressed a white shirt that showed her flat stomach with a black jacket over it and black pants that when to her knees with gold trim on them with black boots. She wore a blaster at her side and two strapped cross cross on the back. Because you couldn't be to safe in her line of work. She normally didn't take jobs like this but she couldn't refuse the money and it might be nice to do something good for a changes.She took a deep breath just as her old R2 droid bumped into into her legs she turned to him
'Snip I told you to wait at the ship."
The droid beeped at her spinning its head piece. The droid had something wrong with it and whenever Areia tried to fix it she just made it worse, so she just left it alone. She had got use to the crazy little droid and even begin enjoying his company. She pat the top of its head lightly "Go back to the ship Snip if i need you I'll call you."
The droid beeped at her a few times and Areia rolled her eyes. "Don't cuss at me you rusted piece of junk or I'll send you back to the junk heap where i found you and THIS time i wont come back for you." the droid froze backing away from her before going off in beeps before raising the little extender arm and seemed to flip her off before taking off down the hall. She shook her head at the droid "I really have to get that droid looked at." she looked back at the door.
She didn't know if this would work out, she was use to having minimal contact with other people, mostly she got orders picked up the supplies and dropped them off taking the credits for it, that and getting supplies for the ship was most of the contact she got but she was willing to try to make this work. She took another deep breath remebering her training. One of the thing her father had taught her was how to hide her Force powers from even other Force users. It was a good way to hide yourself and as such no one she ever worked for knew she could use the force. It had its downsides tho, Using the ability meant that she couldn't use the force herself and noted how many times she was sneak up on because of that.
She manged to calm herself before raising her gloved hand to the door knocking on it before taking a step back waiting to see if anyone answered while at the same time scanning the hallway for anyone who might be watching.

 

[LT-137]

That fact that I was chosen for such an assignment had beggared belief, for I was nothing more than a simple man wishing to live a simple life. Yet, here I stand upon the molten surface of Sullust with datapad in hand, devouring the contents of the message that was splayed across the crystalline surface. A formal invitation to enlist within the ranks of the illustrious Rogue Squadron, a newly reorganized band of pilots with a mythical knack for birthing legends. Who was I to deny this prestigious offer? A former slave, turned freeman? I had thought my life would be easier from here on in, but it seemed that fate, or should my enslaver be believed - the Force - had something else in mind.

And so, after having read the contents of the message, I holstered the device within the folds of my traveling leathers and let my eyes wander across the heat-scored crust. To think that a Pamarthen like me would have been hand-picked from the newly graduated ranks, and thrust into a position that others would've killed for. Granted, yes, I was a natural behind the controls thanks to both the inherent skill bequeathed unto me by my genesire's, but natural talent alone paled in comparison to a disciplined, and experienced mind seated behind the control yoke of a Starfighter. Perhaps the man that had sent this message saw more than raw talent and had sought to sculpt away the imperfections. Well, words were only wind until yoked to a purpose.

So, with that in mind, I turned from the glasteel viewport and moved through the halls of the Alliance Base, garnering sour looks from those I passed. Clearly, my demeanor was off-putting, and I was clad in the most unusual attire. A newly minted Flight Officer like myself was expected to adorn himself in the Uniform of the Alliance Starfighter Corps, and yet - time and time again - I found myself shouldering my old rags, the very ones I wore when I was enslaved. How contrite! A man who believed himself free, and was able to enroll himself in the Naval Academy thanks to an unknown sponsorship, kept coming back to his chains - seeking the stability they offered. Such an act made me weak in the eyes of others, but their thoughts mattered little. They did not know the sting of my master's lash. They did not endure the unspeakable horrors that he wrought upon my flesh. I can feel it itching beneath my clothes as the boiled leather gently scrapes across the surface of my collection of multiple scars.

As my boots had kissed the all too familiar decking of the corridor that had led to my domicile, I believed it was time for a change in wardrobe. While it would've been all well and good to meet with the man who sent the message, I felt it was far from appropriate to do so dressed like I was fresh off the boat from my watery homeworld. Thus, stripping myself of the cured hide and donning a more suitable outfit, I began my journey towards someone else's home in the hopes of finding my way - when all other lights went out.

| [member="Sieb Tevv"] | [member="Ryan Korr"] | [member="Asmus Janes"] | [member="Encouragement Gets"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Berric Kelso"] | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Areiana Slayer"] | - Others I may have missed, and for that you have my sincerest apologies.

 

[Sieb Tevv]

"No new ships," called Sieb's voice from the kitchen. "Not yet. And no licenses to kill!"

He toddled back into the room, wiping his hands with a rag. "You'll be Alliance pilots, just like you were before, but your missions will be, uhm," he placed the rag on the counter and ran a hand over his bald pate. "Different. Dangerously different. You'll have a wing commander to report to and you'll have a designated carrier hangar."

The doorbell rang.

"Excuse me," Sieb moved to answer the door. He found a red headed woman waiting, along with a very serious looking humanoid. "Hello, I am Sieb Tevv. A pleasure to meet you both. Why don't you come in and introduce yourselves? The others are already here."

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