Come on, Mav, do some of that pilot chit

[Coren Starchaser]

Coren Starchaser had been doing a lot of work for the new Sanctum of Silver and Levantines, mainly in their Frontier Corps. Sure, it wasn’t his baby, but it was a group who were willing to accept him. And why wouldn’t they? The man was basically raised in a starship, or four, and had been piloting at about the same time he could ride a bike, and long before he could get a license for a speeder on Corellia. Mostly freighters, and shuttles. Being a child of a member of the defunct ExplorCorps had its perks, but it also didn’t let him get into a starfighter until he was what… 18? Something like that.

Father was murdered by Sith, Coren joined Imperial Service to do something about it, got thrown to Platform Tigris in some unnamed system for training, linked into the 174th Warbirds, joined up with an Imperial commander by the name of Larsen, then things started going crazy and there was probably some time warp to make all the ages work. But it was then that the Dawn Treader made her way to the Fel Imperium and started the Jared Starchaser arc of the ship and Wing, until Corey got the drive to write his flagship character again.

Said character was waiting at the spaceport on Voss. He had pulled some strings to organize for one of the Frontier Corps ships to arrive at Voss. Pilot training time. Much to the disdain of the likes of [member="Boo Chiyo"] Coren was going to be training some pilots. Fighters, shuttles, whatever, a lot of it was the same. He was just awaiting the victims hopefuls.

Different than dealing with the Underground and her pilots.

[member="Xander Stanforth"]
@Other Silvers who wanna be combat pilots
@Levantine Astro Academy students

 

[Zak Dymo]

Voss.

What the kark was he doing here?

As he stood in the spaceport in the middle of a world crawling with Silver Jedi, the Primeval witch-boy felt as though a thousand pairs of eyes were on him. To start with, he was Primeval. And there was that whole fight to the death-execution thing involving Padawan Asaak Tey on Bastion. And, let's not even mention Wayland. Plus, at the moment, there was this whole she-bang going on at Ziost.

[member="Catalys Maijora"] was having fun beating up weaksiders, and where was the Primeval ambassador to the Hutt Cartel?

Standing in line at the starport DMV, lying about his age (again) so that he could be part of Captain Coran's Driving School. The Levantine Astronautical Academy Special Edition. But, what else could he do? He had to at least put on the appearance of being an ordinary school kid. It'd be weird if people thought that the 11 year old Pantoran was some kind of messed up psychopath, cavorting with Hutts, assassinating people, and somehow leading armies through kilometers of napalm.

In other words, he had to maintain appearances so that the people who really didn't know him at all thought that he was normal.

Or, normal-ish.

Now, when it came to interstellar piloting and navigation, Boo had absolutely no interest at all. He had an R3 astromech that did all that kind of stuff for him. That wasn't even real piloting, it was space taxicab driving. Who the feth wanted to fly a freighter? Or one of those behemoth capital ships?

Not Boo.

Now, starfighters? TOTALLY different. From swoops to speeders, podracers to hoverbikes, the Coruscant-born Pantoran was a speed addicted adrenaline junkie who loved racing. He'd fooled around in a cockpit before, finding a completely lackluster performance in the second-hand parts of an old Z-95 Headhunter that [member="Zambrano the Hutt"] had given the boy to use during the subjugation of Chiloon Rift by the crazed Sith Warlord.

So, bring it on, [member="Coren Starchaser"]. And you had better have a need for speed, because this student was on a mission to rack up speeding tickets faster than a Jawa racked up treasure at a junkyard.

 

[Kal'n Drasco]

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

Kal'n had been spending more and more time on Voss as of late, general training and hoping as much as preparing for his Knight Trials. As such, what little piloting experience he had was going untested and unrefined. Like many Jedi Kal'n ended up relying on foresight and quick reflexes rather than straight skill. It wasn't an ideal situation. Kal'n was learning just how many different ways a Jedi could be pulled, there was so much time and effort put into learning and training that Kal'n didn't have the time to pursue any other hobbies. It was frustrating sometimes, but ultimately he felt that it would be worth it. He kept telling himself that he was apart of something much larger than himself.

He walked into the ever-busy spaceport on Voss headed directly towards where he knew the meeting would take place. He briefly wondered, and not for the first time, what sort of ships they would be flying and exactly what sort of training he would undergo. Kal'n had never met his instructor, a Master Coren Starchaser, but Kal'n had made sure to look him up before he came and so when he rounded a corner he wasn't surprised to see the man matching the description and picture he had seen earlier.

He approached Coren with swift and purposeful strides. Kal'n stopped a few paces away from the man and gave a slight bow. "Master Coren Starchaser, I am Padawan Kal'n Drasco, here for pilot training."

 

[Kenrath]

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Kal'n Drasco"]

Xander made his way to the Spaceport. He had been on ships a lot that he knew nothing about. So he decided it would be a good idea to find somebody who could show him around a ship.

Walking up he gave the gathering group a polite bow.

"Nice day isn't it?" "So I take it this is the group for the guided ship tour."

Xander nodded to Coren with a smile

"Hello again Master Starchaser." "It is good to see you again."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

See? The thing with the whole ship training, especially in the case of some icicle kids like [member="Boo Chiyo"] was that they had to get the initiative to get into the classes and get their rights to fly. Sure, Coren would vouch for the likes of Boo any time, but the fact that the Primeval-origin student made a point to get themselves illegally into the class? That scored higher marks for Coren, especially showing the initiative. He knew the Pantoran would be there, he had that feeling.

Kid did swoop racing, why not be in a starfighter?

What he had was a meeting place planned and they’d head to a shuttle, and handwave a few boring conversations and be in the hangar, ready to launch from a starship in a controlled environment, playing around in some fighters. He did have his Exalt out here, his Rassilon moving with the Event Horizon in the Unknown regions, some undisclosed location right now.

But the really-not-a-Jedi Force master thing was waiting for the students, and they had started to arrive. Drasco and Stanforth. He saw their names come across his desk before. Green, but that was fine. Coren could teach them the basics of combat and get them ready for use in the military arm of the Silver Sanctum, or convert them to his kind of pilots and keep them in the Frontiers Corps. Either way, they needed the basics.

He nodded to both of the Padawans. “Guided ship tour, if you mean pilot training. But yeah, this is the place. How’re you doing, Stanforth? And a pleasure to meet you, Drasco. First things first though, you drop that Master talk right now. Its just Coren, or Captain, if y’all wanna be formal.” Coren was so going to call the group ‘kids’ and he just didn’t like being formal. “I think we’re waiting on one more, maybe a few others. What all is your experiences behind the stick?”

[member="Xander Stanforth"]
[member="Kal'n Drasco"]
[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Kenrath]

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Kal'n Drasco"]

Xander nodded.

"Ok Coren it is then if that is your wish."

When Coren mentioned something about behind the stick Xander's expression went to one of pure confusion. He raised his hand and spoke at the same time.

"Ummmm stick?" "What stick?"

 

[Zak Dymo]

Master Starcaser.

Master Coren Starchaser. Were these guys serious?

The first time it was said, the Pantoran did a double take in surprise. 'Master' didn't have a lot of warm or fuzzy connotations for him, being that he'd been slave to a Sith Lord for a time. Master wasn't an honorific, it was an expletive undercover that you uttered only so that the Force Choke, Dark Transfer, or Force Lightning would go away and make the pain stop. Which, spoiler alert, when you were the personal project of a Sith Lord the pain never stopped. So, in addition, 'master' was also what you called the guy that you most wanted to kill.

Which, oddly enough, seemed to be the end result that the Sith were looking for.

"He means the control column. Yoke. Stick. Fly-by-wire..."

Standing there was a blue-skinned kid who ought to be obviously Pantoran. Yellow eyes. Purple hair. Yellow tattoos on his face. None of this prevented him from being mistaken for Chiss. Or a Wroonian. He was obviously not a Jedi. Or, at least, not at all dressed like a youngling from the Jedi Academy on Voss or any other Jedi world. Instead, he wore a distinctive, militaristic uniform which betrayed some Mandalorian influences. It was a darker, deeper blue and embroidered in green to denote his status as a freshman. A round crest on one of the upper arms bore a galactic logo surrounded by Aurabesh letters which read 'Levantine Astronautical Academy'.

He wasn't carrying his lightsaber. The synthetic crystal was something he'd made using Sith alchemy. Wearing that here would be like walking around with a bullhorn shouting 'darksider! darksider here! Get your darksider!'

He wasn't carrying Azi with him either. As flexible and versatile as an Amphistaff was, walking through star port security with a Yuuzhan Vong biot was going to send the biological sensors crazy and arguably draw more attention than walking around with a Sith gemstone bouncing near his crotch.

So what did he have? A flimsy hold-out blaster soft-holstered under the jacket and a shiv concealed in his boot. Neither of which was going to inspire confidence against the glowstick cops, so the Primeval agent was trying to be on his best behavior.

Still, the second time he heard someone refer to [member="Coren Starchaser"] as 'master' it made him giggle. Especially since it was clear that Coren didn't particularly appreciate it either.

"The thing you use to steer," the witch-boy added, finishing the explanation as he looked over at the confused looking Jediboy. Stanforth? Boo thought he'd overheard Cap Corey drop that name just now.

Stanforth, otherwise known as Sir Noobsalot, was about the youngest guy there other than the Pantoran. And dude was easily pushing twenty. Maybe not quite yet.

Padawan Can't-Be-Serious was his counterpart. Or Disasco. Disasco might be a good name for him. He was a little closer to Cap Corey's age.

All of them human Jedi. Oh boy, just what the galaxy needs more of. Pink-skinned piles of...

"Pimps and padawans, pilots and protagonists... Master Boo Chiyo, at your service," the tweenage youngling quipped jokingly, bowing with an exaggerated flourish toward the group. Straightening back up, the boy looked at Coren as he reached up to pat the distinctive Rescue Diver medkit at his side. "I brought my lifeguard stuff, just in case..." the boy remarked in explanation.

"...Mastah Coren."

Pre-teen meant he had jokes.

[member="Xander Stanforth"] | [member="Kal'n Drasco"]​

 

[Coren Starchaser]

There we go, people not calling him Master. Sure, when the Levantines folded into the Silvers, he was there to make sure things went smoothly for the Frontiers Corp and the people that the Levantines represented, not always the most upstanding citizens based on some Force check list, but people who were important, smart and hard working all the same. He looked at the two Jedi, and no he wasn’t saying that with disdain, at least not in this thread, so stop judging him [member="Coci Heavenshield"], he was trying to be nice, and nodded.

Right, now that that was out of the way, questions time.

That was when the Pantoran logistics officer arrived. And started teaching the class. Coren leaned back against the wall and let the student go. He knew the kid could pilot speeders, but starfighters? That was something different. “He’s right, the control yoke, some fighters use a different system, but for my needs, I prefer a control yoke and pedal system. We’ve got a few out that are using another system, something more akin to a civilian airspeeder. If you’re more comfortable on those, we can set you up with a trainer designed as such.”

Coren preferred his fighters Imperial and his freighters Corellian, and his airspeeders civilians. Just how he lived. “If you’ll follow me, our shuttle is waiting.” The group, if they didn’t have any further questions would be boarding a shuttle to meet with a ship out in a training area, truthfully ‘training area’ was translated from ‘waste processing plant,’ a number of rings that transported solid material waste (not bio) to be smelted and repurposed. Flying there was safe… Mostly, but it gave challenges and was one of the favorite locations of Warbird Wing to break in a new pilot or two.

However, further questions would be dealt with in the coming posts as they did the shuttle ride out to the location, where they’d meet the ship, the students would meet their fighters and Coren would put them through the paces.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]
[member="Xander Stanforth"]
[member="Kal'n Drasco"]

 

[Kal'n Drasco]

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Xander Stanforth"]

"As you say then." Kal'n gave a nod in understanding. He was never sure what Masters and Knights preferred, some were very old-school and preferred the honorifics that they had earned. Others, like their current instructor, seemed to not give a flying bantha for titles. It suited Kal'n just fine. He looked over the other two that were with them, Xander he knew, the other one; the small blue boy he had never met. But, he had a mouth on him, then again he was still very young.

"I have some basic combat training. Nothing extensive, no real world experience yet."

Despite that he did have some training Kal'n did not fee like an adequate pilot. He knew that many Jedi were expert pilots, using a combination of natural piloting skill and the Force to achieve feats and shots that were not usually possible by the non-force sensitive. Luke Skywalker was the pinnacle example of such a pilot. With no questions as of yet Kal'n fell in line behind Coren, he'd wait to see what they were piloting and what sort of lessons were in store for them before he began asking questions.

 

[Kenrath]

[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Boo Chiyo"] [member="Kal'n Drasco"]

Xander nodded at the explanations even though it was still pretty much huttese to him. He figured it would all makes sense by the end of the lesson so he let it go for now simply following Coren to the shuttle.

Xander realized at some point you just had to go with the flow. More than one person had mentioned that to him. To just sit back and try to not to push back. At the time he had no idea what it meant but as time passed and he found himself in different situations he tried to approach them with a calm mind.


As he passed Kal'n Xander gave him a polite nod before glancing towards Boo and turning back shaking his head. Seems like you never knew what kind of person you were going to run into if you traveled often enough.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Hands tucked behind his head, the uniformed cadet shuffled and skipped along, trailing behind the master and padawan trio.

As his youth and dark nature might suggest, the boy was reckless. Speeders. He didn't care if they were land or air, they were more like speed bumps. Now swoops... shoddy, swift, and typically illegal outside of approved race tracks were his speed. In that vein, he'd settled on the S&R line. His own personal swoop was a Triple-Z, which topped out at 700 kilometers per hour.

By comparison, the Silk-6 speedometer stopped at 600.

He'd turned the Valley of the Dark Lords into an obstacle course, taken second in a race on Primeval Mirial, then won at Ravelin. He'd made a MIFV look like a jet ski during the Invasion of Wayland. And, as much complaining as he did about the Z-95 Headhunter he'd gotten from Z-Hutt, the boy had taken the starfighter into an asteroid field to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight.

As fast as it was, hyperspace was boring. The navi-computer did all the work. The "pilot" (if you could call them that) just told a droid-brain where they wanted to go and then auto-pilot and the hyperdrive motivator did the rest.

But stuff that really required skill, and speed, and luck?

And would likely get you killed?

That was what this Pantoran was all about.

Praise Sargon. Hallelujah. Now bring out your starfighters, [member="Coren Starchaser"].

[member="Xander Stanforth"] | [member="Kal'n Drasco"]​