Faction Fly Together, Fall Together, Fun Together [Striker Squadron]

[Alison Sky]

Location: Odessen - The Hidden Alliance Base - Rec Room​

The rec room sat deep in the bones of the hidden Alliance base on Odesen, far from the echoing hangars and the hum of shield generators. Here, the durasteel walls were softer with scuffed couches dragged together into uneven clusters, a battered dejarik table humming in the corner, the low glow of holo-panels casting lazy light across the room. Someone had dimmed the overheads to "comfortable," which in Striker Squadron terms meant almost cozy.

Pilots lounged wherever there was space: boots up on tables, jackets tossed over chair backs, helmets abandoned like shed skins. The smell of caf—real caf, somehow—mixed with recycled air and whatever someone had smuggled in from the mess hall. Laughter rose and fell in bursts as stories traded hands: near-misses in asteroid fields, improbable shots that somehow hit, the eternal debate over which starfighter handled like a dream and which one actively hated its pilot.

At the dejarik table, a game was already underway, pieces flickering as someone loudly accused someone else of cheating. Nearby, a couple of Strikers nursed drinks and argued over callsigns, insisting theirs had a story and not an embarrassing origin involving a bad landing and a worse audience. Others just sat back, boots crossed, listening, just content to let the noise wash over them after days of tension and silence in the cockpit.

For once, there were no alarms. No scrambled launch orders. No incoming fire lighting up sensor boards. Just the rare quiet between fights, where wingmates became friends and friends became something closer to family.

Striker Squadron was off the clock.

And for now, the galaxy could wait.

 

[Alison Sky]

The familiar smell of the rec room hit her the moment the doors slid open, like warm metal, recycled air, spilled drinks, and the faint tang of engine grease that no amount of cleaning ever really erased. It was loud in here, but it was the good kind of loud. Not alarms or shouted orders or the scream of hull plating under fire. This was laughter, arguments over sabacc rules, music turned up just a little too high.

Flyboys blowing off steam, flygirls pretending not to notice and sometimes doing a better job of it than others. It was her kind of atmosphere.

Downtime mattered. Anyone who'd flown more than a handful of missions knew that. The bonds forged in rooms like this were just as important as time in the simulator or hours spent memorizing emergency procedures. When things went sideways (and they always did) it wasn't the manuals that saved you. It was knowing who had your six without needing to be told.

Alison slipped into the room like she belonged there, shoulders loosening as the tension she hadn't even realized she was carrying began to bleed away. She let the noise wash over her as she moved through clusters of pilots sprawled across mismatched couches and leaning against scarred tables. A few familiar voices called out greetings; a few more gave her lazy nods of acknowledgment. Someone was already halfway through an exaggerated retelling of a near-miss landing, complete with sound effects.

She angled toward the dartboard mounted along the far wall, half-hidden behind a pillar, where the light was dimmer and the floor bore the scars of missed throws. Scooping up a handful of darts from the tray, she tested their weight in her palm, rolling one between her fingers out of habit. The game didn't really matter. None of it did, not in the grand scheme of things.

But moments like this—the easy banter, the shared laughter, the simple act of standing shoulder to shoulder instead of flying wingtip to wingtip—these were the things that turned a collection of pilots into a squadron.

Alison took her stance, focused on the board, and let one fly.


Tags: Open

 

[Devin Virell]

Alison Sky | Open
​

Devin wasn’t necessarily moving around the room; he was orbiting it! Boots scuffed between the couches and tables, still in his pilot uniform, not pretending he had many other options when it came to attire. Always the same lower levels rat from Coruscant in some ways.. except these days, he was soaring high in an X-wing. Odessen had been slowly growing on him more recently.

The worn flight suit was partially unzipped. In one hand, there was a cup that absolutely did not contain caf anymore. Corellian spirit.. smuggled, obviously. He’d made the decision not to trust the caf after the second sip. It tasted.. recycled. Like it lived a previous life as something else and came back with nothing but opinions. No thanks. This was more low stakes drinking anyway.. just something that offered a little warmth.

He noticed Zane Cameron wasn’t there about thirty seconds in. That was actually kind of annoying too. But it didn’t kill the vibe. Where the feth was he, anyway? Late? Dodging another rematch? Devin couldn't help but let the endless possibilities around roll like a pair of dice.

He clocked one familiar person nearby. Alison. Some pilots you didn’t have to place, they were just familiar. Didn’t mean he played favorites. He just remembered people. Yep. And on the subject of favorites, Acier Moonbound , his preferred mystical space wizard, even surfaced.

Now he was doing a roll call. Michael Angellus , also known as Turtle, the squadron's closet romantic, wasn’t present either. That caused his thoughts dive right back into the battle over Atrisia. Flying all wild near Star Destroyers. Close passes and really dumb angles. Craziest part? They worked every single time.

Shaking the memory away he drifted toward the dartboard. When the dart left her hand, Devin made an extra dramatic fwwoooop noise with his lips. Whether that dart needed some encouragement to believe in itself or not, it was getting it today.

"Good throw," he said warmly. “I think this is my second favorite part. After the flying.. when the stories get worse. Doesn't happen often enough."

 

[Rojuhr Pouihl]

”Acting Air Boss”. Not really something that Rojuhr was expecting, but when he told Halpern he would help out, he was put to work. It was strange “being back”, really, after retiring from service from the High Republic, it was really something that did not have the desired effect.

“Reaper” was bored.

No, this wasn’t his first day here, or in the Rec room, judging by the note on the chalkboard:

“Reaper is banned from Sabacc until further notice”.

Okay that was funny.

He just wanted to be here to help get the pilots more together than anything. Right now they all seemed to be distant and away. That was something that Liram would be ragging on him about, maybe that is why he was relieved when he found out that Michael, who was next to him a part of Striker Squadron.

Michael was one of the few pilots who seemed to understand the importance of camaraderie. He had a knack for bringing people together, even in the most challenging situations. Rojuhr hoped that with Michael's help, they could bridge the gaps among the pilots and foster a stronger sense of unity.

So, you never told me. How are the new X-wings?

Rojuhr tested them personally.

He asked, still laughing at the exclamation about his Sabacc skills.

TAG- Devin Virell , Alison Sky

 

[Rojuhr Pouihl]

oops

 

[Michael Angellus]

​

PERSONAL FLIGHT LOG – Entry #6969(heh, kidding)
Location: – Hidden Alliance Base
Assigned Craft: My X-wing Normally, but we’re chillin’ in the Rec Room.
Astromech Partner: BRED (BB-30)
Current Mood: Cool!
Background Noise: Everyone having fun.

It’s really cool to be walking side by side with Rojuhr… Captain Pouihl, though I gotta admit, with some of the immature Schuttas in here, they’re gonna call me “nerd”.

“Wooo-beeep.” [Translation: You ARE one.]


Okay, first of all… Rude… Second… you’re the guy complaining about rematches at the Dejarik table!

“Weeep-bwoo.” [Translation: That weird eyed Mon Calamari was cheating! I can prove it!]


Anyway, Everyone’s kind of been doing their own thing for a bit, I get it, we only work when they call on us, but we’re really in need of being more of a team. Maybe this is something that will get us going and build stronger camaraderie. If we can find a way to work together more cohesively, it might help us perform better during missions. Plus, it’s always good to have a team you can rely on, especially in the field.


“Chrrp.” [Translation: NEEERRRRD!]


I’m gonna sell you, I swear… Anyway, it’s weird but I feel like I’m too young to be here. All of the alcohol. If I had a shell right now, I would be crawling into it.


“Creooop.” [Translation: … and you wonder why they call you “Turtle”]


What IS a “Turtle”?


“Weeep-beep.” [Translation: Ask the writer. He’s probably chuckling!]

Oh okay… Rojuhr asked me about the new X-wings, and I have to admit, I wish I could do more with them.

Went on a couple of shakedowns, but really haven’t been much of a call for them at the moment. Why are you banned from Sabacc?

Heh, Devin is throwing dice. Why am I not surprised?

– Michael A.
Wait! “Writer”? What ”Writer”?

TAG: Alison Sky , Devin Virell

This is where he is speaking

 

[Susanoo Tsukuyomi]

Alison Sky Supisy Blen Michael Angellus Devin Virell Rojuhr Pouihl

The base was something enjoyable... cramped when the three of them were trying to walk down the hallway through. Susanoo was standing next to the other two of second flight as they all walked in more casual outfits. The form fitted shorts and tops. Better for running around in a jog, for wearing under the flight suits but they could be for times in the req room. She arrived with them as it looked like it was a full house when the three over six foot pilots found a place to sit. Drinks being brought over but she had been mostly checking and double checking things.. since Atrisia and what they had been able to do.. as well as the gifts that were given in honor of them fighting to protect them. She had spent some time going over the new fighters they had access to but there was also new Atrisian fighters and equipment. Susanoo leaned back in the seat as a drink was given to her. Her glasses gleaming and hair pulled back in a tight ponytail as the muscled pilot took a drink.

 

[Alison Sky]

fwwoooop

The sound made Alison chuckle as her dart sailed through the air and hit a relatively nice number. "If this piloting thing goes south, you could always make sound effects for the holos." She grinned again and threw another dart.

"Good throw," he said warmly. "I think this is my second favorite part. After the flying.. when the stories get worse. Doesn't happen often enough."

"Thanks." She glanced over her shoulder to smile at him. He looked exactly like she expected him to, cool, confident, cocky, and sipping something definitely not allowed. It was just so Devin. "Your stories are certainly worse the longer i listen to them, that's true." She winked at him, teasing him a little as she pulled the darts out of the board.

Her eyes trailed behind him to see Turtle hanging out, arguing with his droid for once. She grinned at him and waved. Somehow, even though they were the same age, Michael always looked like he felt too young to fit in. It was kind of sweet. They needed to get him out of his shell more.

In the distance she saw a few others from the Squadron and gave them all a chin lift of recognition, not in a cold way, just in a she didn't want to disturb them sort of way. Everyone was just trying to unwind.

"You want a throw?" She handed the darts to Devin.


Devin Virell Michael Angellus Susanoo Tsukuyomi