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Faction First Flight by Starlight | ZX-44B System (Farworlds Alliance/Starlight Squadron)


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The ZX-44B System, The Unknown Regions

The experimental vessel, known to some as The Freebird, moved slowly through the black hole protected ZX-44B System. The ship was on a routine patrol for while entry into the system was difficult, it was not impossible. The people of Refuge knew this fact and so did the members of the Farworlds Alliance. However, the Alliance’s recent presence in the system did little favor toward hiding the system’s points of entry, and that imposition would not stop anytime soon, as Refuge only pulled in more refugees in these turbulent times. So the Farworlds Alliance sent the Freebird and the Starlight Squadron on its first paired patrol with two goals. First, to direct any refugees to safety. Second, to route anyone else.

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Obj. 1 - The Squadron

Inside of The Freebird, there is a debriefing room. In it, The members of the newly formed Starlight Squadron await assignments for their first mission, but first they have a choice to make. Will they trust the shadowy director and the squadron’s equally shadowy benefactors and fly at the chance to protect the Farworlds Alliance, or do they leave and forgo a chance to join up with the squadron that promises a chance to do good?

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Obj. 2 - Operations & Logistics

Whether in The Freebird or Big Bertha, those at the helm watch short and long range scanners on the lookout for refugee and enemy ships entering the system. They’ll help who they can, but when the fighting starts they will deploy the Starlight Squadron and likely let the starfighters handle the more dangerous flying, and all while running support for the squadron on their first outing.



 

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Squadron Debriefing Room, The Freebird

Tseb watched from one of the lower stacks of the larger debriefing room as a sizeable Orb Droid entered and settled at the head of the room. He looked over his shoulders to see several others scattered about and entering the space. He wondered who in the room he would be flying with, because that is what they were there for, to fly. This was the very first meeting of the Starlight Squadron, a militia style squadron made up of volunteers and those few recruits that had been sought after by the Squadron’s gracious and dutiful benefactors.

“Greetings, Assembled!” The droid announced in a slow, stilted, and almost sinister, amplified tone. It was enough to unnerve the Rodian, as the information on the Squadron was already minimal. “I am D1-R3CT0R. You may address me as “The Director”. I have been programmed and paid for by a shadow benefactor of the Farworlds Alliance with the singular purpose of being the brain and hub of direction for you, the Starlight Squadron. In my programming lies the keys to the Squadron’s future success, but only if you choose it.”

Tseb looked around the room again, studying the faces he could for any reaction other than his own. They had a choice? His choice had already been made when he decided to step aboard the Freebird. The mystery of how the squadron would work did not deter him then and even faced with the strange droid he wouldn’t be deterred now. The others weren’t him though. There were Mandalorians, Jedi, and soldiers, in addition to civilians. Tseb didn’t feel so insecure about being in the latter camp. He thought, whether it was true or not, that maybe he’d had less to lose than the others.

“I’ve been instructed to allow those who do not wish to take orders from a droid to leave the briefing room. You will stay on the Freebird until we can return you to Spaceport Alpha. Those who wish to proceed may stay. All may ask one question before making their decision. I will answer them to the extent my programming will allow.” The droid waited as those assembled determined the order of their questions, or if they would need to ask one at all.

Tseb remained seated, quiet, and just a bit greener than he usually was. He gulped his nerves, deciding he didn't need a question. He was already committed to being here. He adjusted his green and yellow pilot's jacket and turned in his seat to watch the others.


 


“I’ve been instructed to allow those who do not wish to take orders from a droid to leave the briefing room. You will stay on the Freebird until we can return you to Spaceport Alpha. Those who wish to proceed may stay. All may ask one question before making their decision. I will answer them to the extent my programming will allow.”

"Just humor the droid," Shem noted. "I've already had a... thorough discussion with the higher ups and the crew. Freebird will assume emergency control if the situation calls for it, but for now we're just support."

Shem sat himself down in a chair, the tall Rishi procuring a tiny juice box before surgically inserting the straw through the hole in the top. Then he lounged back and began to sip out the contents within. He wasn't entirely sure about the whole 'orders from a droid' business, but they'd have time to see if it and it's mysterious benefactor were worth their salt.

"Just some FYI housekeeping," he continued, "Freebird is carrying onboard stealth tech. Jammers, camo, the full nine yards. It'll get you in nice and quiet, but jammers are non-discriminatory. Your sensors will be just as screwed as the poor suckers we roll up on. That means you all need to get friendly on the comms and make sure you keep track of each other. We're not equipped to collect salvage from friendly fire."


 

Aenarr Kyrr

Strill Securities Tra'ibahikan Squadron Leader

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Tag(s): Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar | Shem Spinner Shem Spinner | Braze Braze | Anthony Gray Sun Anthony Gray Sun | Open

Equipment


[/slide]

Aenarr Kyrr "Tra'ibahikan 1-1"

Shields: |||||||||| (100%)
Hull: |||||||||| (100% Integrity)
Active Stealth Systems: Inactive.
Passive Stealth Systems: Uncompromised.
EWAR Suite:

Loadout: Combat Air Patrol.


Aenarr narrowly avoided having to lecture at the academy this time, he'd left that to Saviin. Luckily he'd been faster on the sign up sheet for this endeavor than his 2IC. Tra'ibahikan. So here he was, sitting at this briefing, company techs seeing to his fighter and the ordnance he brought aboard in the hangar. Still beat the haran out of beating good habits into rookie pilots who were determined to show you that they knew something after all.

“I’ve been instructed to allow those who do not wish to take orders from a droid to leave the briefing room. You will stay on the Freebird until we can return you to Spaceport Alpha. Those who wish to proceed may stay. All may ask one question before making their decision. I will answer them to the extent my programming will allow.”

Aenarr glanced around the room. buy'ce still on. The Rodian and the human Jedi he didn't know, though he imagined that would change over the course of their service together. Shem Spinner Shem Spinner was one of the heroes of Tingel Arm Coalition if he remembered correctly, he didn't have the pleasure of serving with then but his direct alor, Fleet Admiral Nyles Kote Nyles Kote had spoken highly enough of them. Of course, there was almost no one in Strill Securities who had not heard of Braze Braze .

"Still pays the same doesn't it?" he asked when he heard the part about taking orders from a droid. "Doesn't matter to me, any, either way," he added with a shrug.

"Just humor the droid," Shem noted. "I've already had a... thorough discussion with the higher ups and the crew. Freebird will assume emergency control if the situation calls for it, but for now we're just support."

"Shouldn't need more than that, burc'ya," added Aenarr. "Though maybe let's hear what we're going after first? Unless this is just a test, that is?" he asked, looking at the droid that had addressed them earlier.

 
BYOO/OBJ 2: Tech Work

Location: Hangar Bay

While the pilots of Starlight Squadron scurried to the ready room, techs like Saul were swarming over their ships, making sure they were ready to go when their pilots barreled out to jump in their cockpits. So it was time to pull off the refueling hoses and do last-minute diagnostics, giving these pilots the best versions of their craft possible.

The best part was that most of these were variants of legacy fighters, things that Saul had serviced before. The only one he hadn't was the Mando Craft and the Armored Men thankfully had their own techs to work on their stuff. And so Saul kept to his work, trying to find out how a starfighter could power an entire laser beam.
 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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Braze had never experienced being part of an organized team like this before, and he was excited to see where the unfamiliar arrangement might lead him. He found it curious that their apparent commander was a droid, though D1-R3CT0R struck him less as the true authority and more as a handler… an intermediary serving some mysterious benefactor.

At the end of the day, droids tended to default to their programming. Braze found them captivating for that very reason, drawn toward learning how they worked and what, precisely, made them tick. He had been slowly gathering a cadre of unusual droids into something resembling an advisory council, so accepting advice and receiving orders from one were practically the same thing… right?

When the offer for questions came, Braze raised his hand, indicating that he did, in fact, possess one particularly vexing query.

"What is your favorite color, and why?"


 


"What is your favorite color, and why?"

"Ice breakers?" Jalen noted as he entered and sat down.

Not one he could participate in. You had to see colors to have a favorite, and Jalen hadn't seen colors in a very long time. He wasn't really sure if he had a favorite any more. He took a moment to listen to the mechanical components inside the droid. He was good with tech, but droids were very different from people. No aura to read, so you couldn't understand their programming until they acted.

"You all have fun with that, I guess," he exhaled as he crossed his arms and made himself comfortable.


 

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"Just humor the droid," Shem noted. "I've already had a... thorough discussion with the higher ups and the crew. Freebird will assume emergency control if the situation calls for it, but for now we're just support."

Tseb stared at the Rishii. Next to the repurposed floating orb of doom, he seemed the most to Tseb like a leader. He definitely already was. The others, with what limited info the Rodian had, seemed quite eccentric. He’d heard good pilots always were and he’d take that as a promising sign. Still something annoyed him about the Rishii’s words. The call to “humor” D1-R3CT0R would’ve been taken as an insult by anyone with flesh and bone but the droid didn’t flinch. It remained where it was, motionless, with only the slightest change in elevation as it hovered about a child’s height off the ground. The droid was unnerving sure, and it was nice to know there were contingencies, but Tseb was raised not to judge a book by its cover. It was undoubtedly the shell of an old imperial droid, but it was still just a droid and subject to its programming. Was this cover so dangerous? Or was it the shadowy benefactors that The Freebird needed contingencies for?

Tseb let go of his stare as “The Director” started answering questions.

"Though maybe let's hear what we're going after first? Unless this is just a test, that is?"

“This is not a test. Stay or leave. This is a choice. A choice that will determine membership of the Squadron. As a militia you will be awarded freedoms standard soldiers are not. The trade off here is that operations undertaken by this Squadron will be markedly more dangerous. Make your choice with the information that your life is on the line. Is that understood?” The Director said, staring at the Mandalorian through what Tseb believed to be its only eye.

"What is your favorite color, and why?"


The Director pivoted to another. If Tseb hadn’t found the smaller, and younger, white haired man to be eccentric, he would surely have found his question to be. ‘A droid’s favorite color? I mean… C’mon.’ Tseb thought to himself. If he was a betting man, Tseb would’ve had his money on none.

“I do not have a favorite color.” The Director answered simply, disregarding the attempt at sideskirting the one question rule with a why.

It was exactly as Tseb thought, although he did get a chuckle out of that one. “Nice try! I’m willing to bet that’s classified information.” The Rodian joked, opening his mouth for the first time in the briefing. “Let’s ask again after we complete our first mission. Maybe that’ll change.” Tseb called out to the white hair, indicating his willingness to stay as others received answers to their questions and began to leave.

Just a few more questions were taken before the group’s time to decide was over. “If there are no more questions. I believe we have what remains of the group. Welcome to the Starlight Squadron.” The Director finished AND Tseb looked around. There was himself, the mandalorian, the small white haired man, and the man with bandages over his eyes in addition to a few others who hadn’t piqued Tseb’s interest.

“You can make your way to your fighters. We will begin the patrol alongside The Freebird shortly. The patrol routes have been transmitted to your fighters. Look over them when you get a chance. Although we are not expecting much, be ready for combat.” The Director dismissed those that were left only after scanning the room quite literally.


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Hangar Bay

The Head Technician for the Starlight Squadron, a verpine by the name of Zedge, roamed the hangar bay doing his first routine inspection of the other technicians’ work. Good work all around was to be expected, although his standards were a bit high considering his people’s talent for technology and its optimization. He tried to relax when it came to non-verpine technicians. He decided as long as the fighter was operating at its full capability, he couldn't ask for much more.

Zedge stopped for a moment and looked over the shoulder of Saul Whesai Saul Whesai . He hadn’t been the one who okayed Saul for service in the Squadron but he trusted that whoever did had a good reason. That said, Saul did not do anything like a verpine, few technicians did, but there was something else here. Something that piqued Zedge’s interest.

“Hello Saul. How are you making out on this fighter?” The verpine asked simply, looking over the information on it and its pilot in his datapad.



 
Saul liked Zedge for the most part. Though the Head Tech was definitely a... purist when it came to maintaining starfighters, they managed to get along. Zedge made maintaining these ships into an art form. With Saul, fixing something was trying to mash a part (not necessarily the right one) into the right place in a way that worked for one situation, not necessarily to last. The two were very different, but somehow, they stayed out of each other's way.

The Cyborg had been assigned to work on the Bluejay, mainly making sure it was fueled and ready to go. He had just been going over the compound beam's heat exchanger system, making sure it wouldn't blow up after being overfired and making sure the whole system wouldn't explode. "Just doing the last checks. Making sure this Lady doesn't blow up into bits as soon as it's started." Letting the datapad connect to his body by a lanyard rest against his body, he glanced at the head tech. Saul was still getting used to having someone telling him what to do, and he couldn't with Zedge like he could with his past customers. "Anything I should know about before those pilots get out of the ready room?" He might as well ask the question before these ladies were out of his hands.

Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar
 

Aenarr Kyrr

Strill Securities Tra'ibahikan Squadron Leader

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Tag(s): Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar | Shem Spinner Shem Spinner | Braze Braze | Anthony Gray Sun Anthony Gray Sun | Open

Equipment


[/slide]

Aenarr Kyrr "Tra'ibahikan 1-1"

Shields: |||||||||| (100%)
Hull: |||||||||| (100% Integrity)
Active Stealth Systems: Inactive.
Passive Stealth Systems: Uncompromised.
EWAR Suite:

Loadout: Combat Air Patrol.


“This is not a test. Stay or leave. This is a choice. A choice that will determine membership of the Squadron. As a militia you will be awarded freedoms standard soldiers are not. The trade off here is that operations undertaken by this Squadron will be markedly more dangerous. Make your choice with the information that your life is on the line. Is that understood?” The Director said, staring at the Mandalorian through what Tseb believed to be its only eye.

"Don't threaten me with a good time, beskar'ad, I'm just partial to getting told what I'm shooting at before I get into the void is all. Beats teaching," he said, half-muttering the last part. It became quickly clear to him that there was going to be no more information given at this briefing. One point off. Still beat lecturing at the academy. He had no idea how his boss did it. Then again. how much did capital ship combat differ from theoretical capital ship combat?

Aenarr made his way from the briefing room back to the hangar. He managed to pick his fighter out without any issues, even without the aid of his HUD. Almost nothing modern had a similar space frame to the Tra'galaar, and that made the task of picking it out from a line-up the easiest task he'd ever had to do. Aenarr would have used his beckon call to open the fighter's canopy, but the technician saw him coming and opened it up for him. With some help from his beskar'gam's jump boots, Aenarr was once more in the familiar space of his cockpit.

With familiar ease, he connected the neural interface cable to the pass-through port at the back of his buy'ce, the port cover opened with a thought. The fighter came to life on command with a low growl that evolved into a high pitched hum and eventually nothing at all. Information flooded his conscious mind, diagnostic data, detection, targeting and tracking information and finally, the new information that had been sent to their craft. The fighter hung in the air on repulsor power as the landing struts retracted back into the hull.

"Freebird control this is Voidstalker, requesting launch," said Aenarr over comms as he spun up the fighter's autoloaders. Green status indicators for the fighter's weapons flickered to life in the corner of his vision. 'Combat Air Patrol' was the loadout he'd told the technicians to load, the fighter recognized what was loaded as matching that loadout. Aenarr tested swapping between missiles, countermeasures and loaded ammunition, then running a quick last minute check of the other systems; active stealth features, electronic warfare and the like. Soon it would be time to go back to work, and he loved what he did.

 

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Ship: StarBlazer I and Starblazer II
Tags: Aenarr Kyrr Aenarr Kyrr Braze Braze Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar Shem Spinner Shem Spinner
Anthony and his crew had been late. Missed the droid's speech, and walked in on Braze Braze dropping a rather awkward ice breaker.

Not that he minded. He and Vishi had spent pretty much the entire morning installing the darn mass driver into what would soon be dubbed the StarBlazer II.

"Blue." Anthony admitted. "Like water. I'm an easy book to read."

He turned to Braze, and offered a smile. "I think we've worked together. You were one of the paddies I trained in hydrokinesis, right? Back on Corellia?"

Back in the Hanger
Tag: Aenarr Kyrr Aenarr Kyrr
An elder man, who looked to be in his 60s, stood in front of what was as of now, a Predator Class B-wing, at least in theory. It was in a state of repair, or more accurately, in a state of modification. Like an airspeeder mounted on jacks to add in a new engine, but much larger scale.

Terry, the old man, former fire chief of the Coruscant Fire Department, was now it's weapons operator, and while he had plenty of experience firing weapons, installing them was a different matter.

"No, to the right!"

He let out a sigh, as the droids they had employed to help with the heavy lifting scrapped a new part into the side of the hull. He turned away, only to see the Mandalorian standing in front of him.

"Droids, am I right?"
 

Space
Tags: @Everyone (phone post sorry lol)
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Delta-7, Lothal Jedi Temple

"Freebird control this is Voidstalker, requesting launch,"

"Clear to launch," came the voice of Shem Spinner Shem Spinner over the comms. "Don't have too much fun out there."

Jalen, meanwhile, approached the Bluejay. He'd give a dip of his head in the general direction of Saul Whesai Saul Whesai , who had clearly been working on it, before the blind man clambered into the cockpit of his vessel. Jalen would take a little longer than the others getting his ship fired up to ensure that he had the equipment that helped him sense far beyond his ship operational to his liking.

"Think the droid will be less cryptic?" he asked over comms.


 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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Braze accepted the curt reply without comment, rising with a long stretch before heading out to climb aboard the Ashwing. He made a deliberate effort not to offer Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el any response that might prove even slightly embarrassing in front of their new acquaintances, choosing—for once—the calmer course of action.

It was exactly as Tseb thought, although he did get a chuckle out of that one. “Nice try! I’m willing to bet that’s classified information.” The Rodian joked, opening his mouth for the first time in the briefing. “Let’s ask again after we complete our first mission. Maybe that’ll change.”

Braze glanced aside, taking note of the friendly Rodian, and offered him a pleasant smile.

“Yeah? You think so? Still, I learned quite a bit from the answer our 'Dear Director' gave us,” he mused. “I suppose he’ll be handing out all our ‘primary directives’ from here on out. I like people with a bit of humor~ Makes them relatable. ”

He stifled a yawn behind one loosely curled fist. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, though he seemed unwilling to let exhaustion slow him down.

“If we live, we can all place bets on what the truth might be afterward,” Braze suggested playfully.

He made his way to the Ashwing before buckling himself in and preparing for the mission ahead. "Azure Phoenix, ready for departure."
 

Aenarr Kyrr

Strill Securities Tra'ibahikan Squadron Leader

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Tag(s): Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar | Shem Spinner Shem Spinner | Braze Braze | Anthony Gray Sun Anthony Gray Sun | Open

Equipment


[/slide]

Aenarr Kyrr "Tra'ibahikan 1-1"

Shields: |||||||||| (100%)
Hull: |||||||||| (100% Integrity)
Active Stealth Systems: Inactive.
Passive Stealth Systems: Uncompromised.
EWAR Suite: Inactive.

Loadout: Combat Air Patrol.



"Droids, am I right?"

Aenarr saw the man out of the edge if his vision as he was awaiting launch clearance. For the first few fractions of a second he couldn't hear what the man was saying but then his Tra'gaal's audio detection suite picked up what he was saying over the din of the hangar's background noise. At first he was mildly confused and then he saw the droid loading ordnance. "Still beats loading it manually, friend," he offered in commiseration over the fighter's external address system.

"Clear to launch," came the voice of Shem Spinner Shem Spinner Shem Spinner Shem Spinner over the comms. "Don't have too much fun out there."

Music to his ears. "No promises," he responded as the fighter's neural interface picked on his command through his excitement and increased the fighter's thrust to launch velocity. Once free of the ship's gravity, Aenarr breathed a sigh of relief. Once more it was just him, his fighter and whatever their target was out in the inky void. The experience, no matter how many times he did this, was...liberating. There were few others like it. He felt the raw, barely constrained power of the fighter around him through the neural interface. This was what the shab he was getting paid of.

He effortlessly put the massive fighter into a holding patten outside the Freebird's hangar as he waited for the others.

 
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Into the Void
Command Ship: The Freebird
Location: ZX-44B Sytem, The Unknown Regions
Tags: Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar Anthony Gray Sun Anthony Gray Sun Aenarr Kyrr Aenarr Kyrr Braze Braze Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el Shem Spinner Shem Spinner Yaeger Sularen Yaeger Sularen Saul Whesai Saul Whesai Voice of Camaraderie Voice of Camaraderie

Leaning casually against the back bulkhead of The Freebird's debriefing room, Shayl "Sparks" Munin crossed his armored arms, his colorfully painted helmet tucked securely under his left elbow. A relaxed, expectant smirk played across his uncovered face as he let out a quiet, amused huff. Around him, the room was a tense hive of activity—local militia rookies, anxious frontier smugglers, and seasoned freelancers either finalizing their flight gear or already scrambling out the doors to mount their ships.

Shayl's gaze swept across the crowd, lingering for a beat on the distinct silhouettes of the Jedi Outcasts present. Centuries of complex history made any Mandalorian a little naturally wary around space wizards, but out here on the edge of the Unknown Regions, he didn't care about ancient politics. They were all standing on the same line, facing down the same pirate filth for the exact same reasons, and that was good enough for him.

His eyes flicked onward, offering a brief, respectful nod of recognition to the other armored Mandalorian pilot across the room before shifting up to the mechanical frame of the tactical droid rattling off flight vectors. A machine handing down combat orders to living warriors was an objective absurdity, but the droid's synthetic voice was merely a countdown to a green light for action.

The moment the briefing concluded, Shayl pushed off from the bulkhead and stepped out into the frantic rush of pilots flooding toward the staging deck. Emerging onto the bustling hangar floor, his eyes immediately locked onto the sleek, weather-beaten Kestri grey durasteel of his MNV-52 Beviin fighter, affectionately dubbed The Sparktail. The hand-me-down airframe sat proudly among the ragtag volunteer vessels, the vibrant orange and electric blue racing stripes of its custom nose art cutting through the dim hangar haze.

Ignoring the Alliance flight crew, Shayl conducted his own meticulous pre-flight walkaround. His hands trailed over the fuselage, checking the hydraulic fluid seals on the S-foils and ensuring the custom cooling sleeves on his main cannons hadn't loosened during transit. He knew the quirks of this airframe far better than any FWA deck technician ever could.

Satisfied, he scaled the boarding steps and slipped seamlessly into the cockpit, his armor plates settling comfortably into the pilot's harness.

Slipping his helmet over his head, the pressurized seal hissed as the internal T-visor displays flared to life. Shayl brought the starfighter roaring awake, a familiar, deep thrum rattling through his boots as the over-tuned sub-light injectors caught line. With a practiced flick of his fingers, he began toggling through his console diagnostics, shifting past standard tactical radar to prime his custom, long-range Outrider sensor cluster. Next, his thumb cycled the multi-phase frequency modulator on his flight stick, testing the weapon matrix as the console indicators blinked from Standard Laser to a blue-tinted Ion Mode, before finally locking into a heavy plasma yield.

A secondary indicator screen glowed amber, confirming his physical payload was loaded and primed inside the twin LS4 Cavalier launchers: a balanced spread of four M13 Drake tracking missiles and four shield-killing Mag-Pulse warheads. Reaching up, he gave a quick, ironic tap to the blackened, melted fuse dangling from his canopy frame—a silent reminder to keep his head straight before overdriving his engine matrix today—and sealed the transparent canopy.

Flipping open his local comms channel, Shayl's voice crackled cleanly onto The Freebird's primary flight deck frequency:

"Flight Control, this is Starlight Seven. The Sparktail is green across the board. I am locked and loaded. Requesting deparure clearance."
 
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“Yeah? You think so? Still, I learned quite a bit from the answer our 'Dear Director' gave us,” he mused. “I suppose he’ll be handing out all our ‘primary directives’ from here on out. I like people with a bit of humor~ Makes them relatable. ”

He stifled a yawn behind one loosely curled fist. Dark circles bruised the skin beneath his eyes, though he seemed unwilling to let exhaustion slow him down.

“If we live, we can all place bets on what the truth might be afterward,” Braze suggested playfully.

He made his way to the Ashwing before buckling himself in and preparing for the mission ahead.

Tseb smiled as the white haired man set off to join the others in taking to their starfighters. He also thought about how the as-of-yet nameless man looked young for a human, if he was human, and because of that was ready to doubt if he actually had learned anything from the Director’s answer, but he didn’t. He thought maybe the dark circles around the eyes of the man had something to do with it. There was a sharper edge to him and some of the others. The edge of experiences that Tseb didn’t believe he possessed, but maybe that he would in the future.

Tseb got ready to run after the others when The Director stopped him.

“A moment, Tseb Yiyar.” The Orb droid floated closer to Tseb.

“Yes, Director. What can I do for you?” The Rodian paused and obliged.

“Learn and learn quickly,” The droid began its answer. “Because, as of now, you are the least experienced of the Squadron. There are Jedi and Mandalorians, and expert pilots among you.” The Director informed. “My benefactors didn’t ask for experience. They asked for volunteers. They asked for the Farworlds Alliance. You are a volunteer with little experience. If you do well, I can sell that.”

“Sell that?” The Rodian repeated in confusion, looking around to see if anyone else had heard it. They were seemingly alone. “Sell what, Director?”

“Never you mind, Starlight-One. You are dismissed.” The Droid said before floating out of the room.

Tseb eyed the Director until it left his view. He wondered if he should share the strange words with his squadron mates. Maybe they could explain what the director meant, or maybe they couldn’t. He didn’t even know their names, so he settled for telling them later and went straight for his starfighter. “I’ll give you something to sell alright.” Tseb said to himself determinedly while climbing the ladder up and into the seat of his cockpit.

With the flick of a few switches and clicks of a few buttons, the X-Wing came to life around Tseb. He read the display, switched the comms on and could hear his squadron mates chiming in requesting permission to launch. Tseb followed suit. As the Head Technician on the floor, a Verpine, pulled the ladder from his starfighter.

“Looks like they’re already here, Saul, my boy. And this is what you can expect from these guys. With pilots everything is quick, fast, and in a hurry, regardless of whether it’s time for extreme focus or not.” The Verpine said to a technician nearby. “Now let’s get clear. While it may be fun to be this close to fighters when they get going, it isn’t good on the ears.” The Verpine admitted to the young man called Saul as he waved the fighters off as one by one they all received permission for takeoff.

Tseb set out behind his wing-mate. He was surprised to see it was the white haired human from earlier. "Starlight-Two, or should I call you Azure Phoenix?" Tseb reached out over the comms. "That's a Jedi Fighter. You're a Jedi, right? What do you think about the others?" Tseb asked not realizing his comms were wide and reaching everyone in the Squadron.


 
Saul watched the pilots all come out from the hallway and scramble to their craft, nodding back in appreciation that Jalen Kai'el Jalen Kai'el had even decided to notice him. Normally, techs didn't get a lot of notice, so just that little bit of appreciation meant a lot. Pulling the steps away from the remade Delta, he gave the pilot a thumbs up that he was all good to go before scrambling to get out of the way as the hotrodders all tried to get out of the hangar first.

When Zedge said that he should protect his ears, the Cyborg managed to chuckle as he yelled over the whine of powering-up engines. "Says the person who doesn't have them." Or he at least wouldn't think so just by looking at the Verpine, but then again, he couldn't tell what was happening under the Verpine's carapace. Maybe his ears were just in a hidden place he couldn't see? Either way, he remembered to worry about himself and took industrial earplugs out of the pocket of his tech suit, putting them in his ears while he watched the squadron get underway. From a safe distance, of course.

-End Post-​
 
Sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡ Lᴏʀᴅ


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[SQUAD] “Both will get my attention, Green Boy~ Although ‘Starlight’ is what I affectionately call the sweet girls waiting for me to come home,” Braze chirped over the squad comms in reply.

[SQUAD] “As for this lot, there’s no finer company, nor anyone I’d sooner trust with my life. Don’t fret about the open channel; press the lower comm switch beneath the current key you’re using, which is the squad key, and that’ll put you through to Flight One separately so we can talk privately between ourselves. Until then, I’ll do my best to stay close. We’re paired together, so I’ll be flying support for you…”

He left the reassurance upon the open squad channel before switching over to Flight One.

[FLIGHT 1] “I’ll let you tour the Ashwin later, if you’d like.”
He offered gently, deliberately without any acknowledgment of whether he was—or was not—a Jedi. For the moment, Braze seemed content to leave that question unanswered.

Once they were cleared for launch, his attention settled upon the controls before him, hands moving through the final checks as he prepared to follow his wingmate out.
 

Space
Tags: Braze Braze , Tseb Yiyar Tseb Yiyar , Others...
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Delta-7, Lothal Jedi Temple

“Both will get my attention, Green Boy~ Although ‘Starlight’ is what I affectionately call the sweet girls waiting for me to come home,”

<<Thanks, I'm gonna barf later,>> Jalen groaned as he chimed into the Flight 1 channel. <<Doc will suffice. Pleasure to meet you, Green Boy.>>

A bit on the nose, wasn't it? Then again, he couldn't see the color green. Maybe it was just as obvious as it had to be. Jalen let out an exhale as he took in the sensations of being in space. It was quite relaxing to him, really. There was very little in space, after all, so he could feel out around him for miles upon miles. There was a reason he was still a capable pilot, even after losing his sight.

<<So, you volunteer to fly?>> he asked. <<Not you, Azure Phoenix... I already know why you're here.>>


 

Aenarr Kyrr

Strill Securities Tra'ibahikan Squadron Leader

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Tag(s): Shayl Munin Shayl Munin

Equipment


[/slide]

Aenarr Kyrr "Tra'ibahikan 1-1"

Shields: |||||||||| (100%)
Hull: |||||||||| (100% Integrity)
Active Stealth Systems: Inactive.
Passive Stealth Systems: Uncompromised.
EWAR Suite: Inactive.

Loadout: Combat Air Patrol.


The Tra'galaar's highly sensitive communications interception equipment picked up the hint of encrypted chatter easily. The fighter was effectively an extension of his body while he was connected to the neural interface. He could pry, but he recognized the encryption scheme almost instantly. He didn't know what the shab they were on about, but he recognized that it was intra-flight chatter. His wingman was the other Mando'ad in the unit.

In the years past they wouldn't have dealt with those that didn't follow the codex as far as they could help it. Now? War and the promise of war made strange bedfellows of them all, or however that aruetii phrase went. With a sigh, he raised his wingman ( Shayl Munin Shayl Munin ), "Vod, I know we may not agree on everything, but there's no way in haran I'm letting these two Jetii and a Rodian outshine us Mando'ade. Have my six covered and I'll have yours. Koor?"

Aenarr easily rolled the deceptively large fighter into his wingman's six. This wasn't his squadron, these weren't his men, but he'd be damned if he and a fellow Mand'ad couldn't outshine the two Jetii and the Rodian. He was nothing if not adaptable after all. Most of all, he was not going to be the reason this endeavor didn't work and he had to go back and admit that Saviin had been right. She'd never let him forget that.

 

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