Grapes of Wraith

[Loske Treicolt]

​

09:00​

​

"And done." Loske grinned, rocking back on her butt after having leaned in so deeply to the panel of randomly hued wires. The room was dark, save for a light Frank was projecting after they'd snuck in to do this and when she announced she was finished, the room was cast into shadows again.

Aren't there security concerns around this? Frank commented idly, for the sake of saying something although he wasn't against the cheekiness The Alliance Remnant squadron had. Modified computer code being downloaded into opposition computers and whatnot?

"There's a greater security risk, to the entire Alliance with bad pilots." She responded, waggling a finger at him "Anyone who ends up seeing this knows they've got to brush up their skills. Besides, your slicing was so clean they'll never think it was you if the admiral does get upset."

The this in question was a hack - an image that she and Frank added to the Target-Aggressor Attack Resolution Software. When the TAARS package would inform other Alliance pilots of their status in any training exercises against Wraith Squadron, the Wraith Crest would show up and annoy other jocks. The crest was heritage, dragged in from days of old. The Alliance' symbol was in the back, with a light opacity and twelve X-Wings at a 45 degree angle with their noses to the right.

The modified astromech made a machine-based grunt as the pilot rose from the ground, closing the panel behind her and exiting the room.

Earlier that day, she, and a handful of other pilots with remarkable simulation and real-world experience scores had received a message from the squadron leader. Wraith Squadron was being activated again.

"It's an appropriate move, image wise." Closing the door and re-entering the lit hallways, the long-legged blonde and her smug droid meandered to the appropriate destination they were to report to for the first official briefing. A place where new, and some old, faces would collect. "Rogues were a symbol of strength when The Alliance was a powerful beacon in the galaxy. Now, we're ghostly." She pocketed her wrench into her jacket pocket, gesturing the point of a spear with her fingers. "Something of rumours and whispers." She pressed her palm against a panel, and the door to the room hissed open. "A more refined approach, under the cover of darkness and infiltration and all that."

On the other side of the door was the briefing amphitheater - the location that each of the squadron members would have received as the first message in their queue. The message itself was neutral and routing in wording -- even though it was the first official notification that any of them had made it onto the squadron. Or that the squadron even existed. This was where they were all to meet today, after breakfast, to be briefed by the Squadron Commander.

[member="Rayf Vigil"] / [member="Cuan Kunn"] / [member="Tera Highwind"]​

 

[Cuan Kunn]

Lieutenant Cuan Kunn had received word that something big was going down. He had a few inklings, but figured ti was yet another Alliance restructuring. That wasn't a bad thing, maybe it was time to get back to the Rogues. They had sent many pilots out to other squadrons for a few weeks there while they removed themselves off of the current active roster to recruit new pilots. Following the assault on Corellia and a loss of a few of their own, it became a problem. But also, with the Alliance Remnant, so many things were not as they once were.

And that was for better or worse, but Cuan understood. The way the galaxy worked was different now. He had checked a few things on his X-Wing, while he and his astromech stared longingly at one of the new E-Wings that were getting unloaded. Cuan shook his head, and his big black eyes turned to his astromech.

<<Maybe we'll get one of them, but for now, the X-Wing is our bird.>> He'd also seen a few of the new Y-Wings being moved in and out of the base. But all he knew was that today he was being called to a meeting. Not even getting out of flight gear, having moved from the Spear of the Alliance to their present location, he knew that it was going to be something different.

If it was Rogues, he'd hear from Rayf first. That was just returning to business as usual. This though, he wasn't sure. He checked his side arm in with the deck officer before making his way to the room. Did he recognize anyone on his way, he wasn't sure, the humans all looked similar, worse if they had the same hair colors. For now, he was content, and his astromech followed along behind him close. Especially when he entered the meeting.

 

[Duke Dyson]

After what felt like months of being in the simulation runs, Duke could finally give the alliance something to talk about. The training was tough frankly, given his nature he wasn't sure if he would make it through training. A lot of cadets had been in the same boat and a far lot were just simply unlucky or as the alliance would see it; saving their lives which quite frankly was a load of kark. With their numbers depleting, the amount of pilots available was scarce so they did want only the best of the best. Did he feel like he qualified for one of those spots? Definitely. Rogue Squadron had since been pushed to the sidelines but they continued to leave a legacy for the future generation and to be even considered for a position was an absolute honor. Duke hadn't looked into the background of the Wraith's but their leader was a known veteran and like all commanders possibly had an authority stance that was not be questioned, he made a mental note to hold his tongue.

Hurrying along, Duke had either forgotten to or was just too eager reach his destination point so to grab something quickly from the mess hall would have to wait. His boots skidded him to a corner and towards a hallway where the doors of destiny awaited. It would lead him and a variety of other pilots within his unit to the briefing chambers where he was to receive further instructions, something that he wasn't so keen on following so clearly but first impressions were everything so the young pilot attempted to play it off smooth, quickly acknowledging other people who had started to appear as he took his seat somewhere among all the vacancy's available.

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Secret Meeting Place...​

​

​

"Almost there, let's see what this is all about, hm?"

The automatic doors opened, as an older human walked through. He was broad, stocky with untoned muscle and had a thick moustache. Dressed in the casual clothing of a civilian, the ID chip pinned to his front indicated high level clearance. He looked unassuming, perhaps even decidedly average, though a darkness could be glimpsed within his eyes. There was also the case of the small child strapped to the man's chest, via baby harness. No more than two standard years, the toddler played with a small figurine - or rather was biting at the toys head furiously, trying to stave off some of the teething pain he felt.

"What do you think, little guy? Late debriefing? Intelligence update? Threat disclosure?"

"Gaa wha ooh cooo..."

"Oh, interesting, didn't consider that."

Walking down the hallway to another door that served as the designated meeting point, Petir Soont - once a career commando for the Galactic Alliance, now retired with a family - strode through with a cheeky smile on his face, as he raspberry kissed the top of his son's head, causing the child to giggle and wave his arms around. The toy dropped, to which Petir bent over with a grunt and retrieved it, before checking the item for dirt or grime. Being somewhat clean, the father handed it back to his son.

"Hello," Petir said to the other individuals nearby, as he nodded. "Has anyone seen Rayf Vigil? He contacted me to meet here."

For a second nothing was said, as the toddler continued to coo and sputter.

"Oh! Yeah, sorry, it's really hard to find a sitter on such short notice. It's okay, he won't spill to the enemy... unless it's his lunch after bouncing too much."

Petir chuckled.

 

[Alleycat]

Darksun sat towards the back of the briefing room, caf in hand, well more like sludge as some things never change, and watched the door with curiosity as more pilots sauntered into the amphitheater. There were the standard rebel types here with a mix of humans and aliens, no surprise there. They were all the best of the best having gotten this far in the process to be asked to this meeting, well hopefully that was the case.

The dark haired Chandrilan was dressed casually in his usual all-black that was worn when not in a flight suit or sporting some sort of BDU attire for a job or mission. Was he wearing the dark achromatic color because he was still in mourning, or was it just his favorite color, and/or looked real good in it? Probably it was to some degree all of the above.

Max had been doing okay until the moment the guy with the baby walked through the door.... Happy scenes like that still bothered him. The child in the front carrier was about the same age his unborn one would have been by now if his wife hadn't been killed along with their other child at the Battle of Chandrila on the day the Galactic Alliance fell to the Sith.

His fist clenched at his side and he dug his fingernails into the palm of his hand. That physical pain was better than the one still lingering in his heart. Gods how he wanted a drink right about now, but in all honesty it didn't really make the pain go away just numbed it for the moment. Time. Everyone said just give it time, or if lucky another would fill the void and help him to heal his broken soul. Yeah, Max wasn't sure either would ever happen, or even if he wanted it to. Like the good advice people said, time would only tell.

Just breathe... and be happy for the man. It isn't his fault your joy was taken from you.

[member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Rayf Vigil"]​

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Force knew how long it had been since Frielle had been in a proper squadron. The spacer took a swig of her canteen and felt the sting of the amber liquid as that whiskey rye burned. She ran a hand along the back of her neck. A deep blue leather fringe jacket hugged the pilot's body as worn in flight pants covered boots that had seen better days. The Qi'ra had been parked up high with her X-Wing just behind her, the old wraith logo faded and worn. She recalled the last of the Great Galactic War, the vivid memories of the Alliance's Fall and the moments that led her here. Frielle shook the canteen and listened to swish and swash of the whiskey within its walls. The spacer would have just enough to get her through this, and she watched as people walked across the base and it reminded her of what they were fighting for.

What her father had been fighting for, what he had died for. Fighting was all they knew, fighting against this empire or that, defeating this Sith Lord or another. Frielle couldn't shake the feeling that all the fighting had been just her father's way of running. Running from his past, running from the truth - a truth revealed on his death. All his talks of pulling yourself up by your own bootstraps, his talk of his family being dead. Had it been all a lie?It sure as kriff felt like it, and as her boots padded through the halls the sight of the base fading behind her as lights in the hall illuminated her path.

Frielle tucked the canteen into her fringe jacket's pocket. The orange of her jumpsuit peaked out from beneath the deep blue fringe, sleep was a demon she couldn't conquer and sanity was an ever fading light half the time. Her focus on why she was here, why she still wore the uniform came forward, "everyone deserves a chance to make their own choices, and to be supported..." Her father's words trickled forward from her lips. The spacer's voice scratchy and soft as she tried to keep it to herself, shoulders back, head held high she shook whatever thoughts plagued her mind and entered through the door.

[member="Max Darksun"] | [member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Rayf Vigil"]

 

[Rayf Vigil]

"Alright everyone, settle in."

Rayf Vigil moved through most rooms like a storm. As if he were speeding through life just as he sped through the skies, he was one of those people that always seemed like he was on his way somewhere important. Of course this time he was. He had been in the same position when he had inherited the Rogues, breaking in a new group of pilots was a challenge under ordinary circumstances. When that group was supposed to be legends...

"Petir, glad you made..." the commander trailed off when he saw that [member="Petir Soont"] was not alone. Thankfully his mustache helped disguise the frown that crept in underneath, "...it. Its uh, been too long."

After promising to catch up later, he brushed past his old reactivated squadron mate. Rayf could feel all eyes on him, characteristically high flying egos sizing up their new so called commanding officer. All save for one of the Alliance rookies, [member="Max Darksun"] who appeared to be concealing some distress. He considered pulling the young man aside and making sure everything was alright, but thought better of it. He needed to know if they could hold up under pressure, and better to find out here in the briefing room than in the middle of a mission.

"Some of you are probably wondering why you're here."

They were going to have to get used to it. Life in this squadron would be just as much about espionage as combat skill. Whether they knew it or not, they were taking their first steps into a galaxy of need to know and compartmentalization. Some like [member="Cuan Kunn"] and his new executive officer [member="Loske Matson"] he knew could handle it, they were Rogues. Petir he had been just as sure about until twenty seconds ago. Others he knew only from their dossiers, [member="Frielle Kinniak"] was already something of a resistance legend and there was the other rookie, [member="Duke Dyson"] who was practically fresh out of the academy but his sim records were off the charts.

"Sluis Van," Vigil cut to the chase, he was known for that. A verdant looking world orbited by massive ring yards sprang to life from the holoprojector at the front of the briefing room, and the lighting automatically dimmed, "Once it was one of the Galactic Alliance's chief industrial worlds, but after living under Imperial tyranny for years it is now the largest Ssi-ruuk stronghold in the sector. More than that, its one of our last major obstacles between Elrood and Sullust."

Sullust. It was a symbol of the Alliance, but even though remnant forces had liberated the world from the First Order, it was still an island in a sea of chaos. They could not guarantee its protection until the Ssi-ruuvi Imperium was dealt with.

"Our mission is to conduct surveillance of the Sluis system," he continued, and the holoprojector zoomed out to display a recorded image of Sluis Van's surrounding celestial bodies, "Both a covert sensor flyby...and ground insertion for surface reconnaissance."

He waited for that last piece of information to sink in, before delivering his final blow.

"This is a Wraith operation. Any questions?"

 

[Loske Treicolt]

A thumb drew across pouted lips as the epitome of a dbriefing started and ended.

​

There was a level of tranquility in the room, the expectation of something had been evident from the get-go. She gauged reactions from her position, back against the wall adjacent to the first row of seats. These were new faces, she'd not flown with before.

There was a silence after the commander prompted for questions, and made the announcement of the squadron's name. She held her breath for a handful of seconds before inserting her own queries -- she had assumptions, but the mission had yet to be released to their dossiers.

A wry grin replaced any dubious consideration.

"When does Wraith deploy, commander?"

As his pilot spoke, Frank was issuing up-to-date of the Sluis Sector to each Wraith's datapad for their reference, full of the last known information on atmospheric conditions, primary terrain, and native flora and fauna. No doubt they'd be collecting enough information this mission to pass some impressive updates to the rather...dusty documentation.

[member="Frielle Kinniak"] / [member="Max Darksun"] / [member="Petir Soont"] / [member="Duke Dyson"]/ [member="Cuan Kunn"] / [member="Rayf Vigil"]​

 

[Cuan Kunn]

A number of pilots were called it seemed. And Cuan wasgood with that. The now-former Rogue was being transferred into the Wraiths but he wasn’t sure what his mission was going to entail. Heading to Sluis Van put the Coalition on the fast track to get them back to Sullust, a cause he and the other nationals would really rally behind. Even if it was more ceremonial, and bringing the light of his government here. Many familiar faces were in that ready room, but he had been waiting for the leader, the Old Man himself. And when he stepped in, well, [member="Petir Soont"] wasn’t exactly who he meant. Nodding to the Commandaddyo, he was watching the others enter.

Finally it was Old Man Actual.

Questions? He looked up. <<Whats the loadout, not exactly been assigned ground equipment.>> Have X-Wing, Willing to Travel was his motto. He could hold his own with a rifle. Not exactly covert, but if it was dark? That was where he was ready and willing to help out.

[member="Frielle Kinniak"] | [member="Max Darksun"] | [member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Rayf Vigil"]

 

[Decker Willo]

Decker Willo had heard across the winds of the galaxy, for any semblance of a job. He looked everywhere, for a home for him and his crew. So when he heard that there was a group looking for pilots, why he practically jumped at the chance of a lifetime. For him, anyway. Of course, he went in alone for this. With a duffel bag packed and ready to go, Decker came to the meeting place that was mentioned to him. Soon, he arrived. Apparently, as it appeared so, he was late. As usual, for the pilot.

He overheard some things that he recognized from his own time in the Alliance. Sluis. He heard of it, before his inevitable capture by the First Order years ago. He hadn't flown near it, but still he knew of it. While he listened, he began to assume some of the others were once Alliance. Yet, no faces he recognized. A year in prison can do that to a guy.

"Sluis..." He murmured under his breath, after taking a seat. And ground? Well, Decker did do that survival ground training with Vulpensen...that was terrifying, to say the least. Yet still, he could manage it. He waited for the go.

[member="Cuan Kunn"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Rayf Vigil"] [member="Frielle Kinniak"] [member="Max Darksun"] [member="Petir Soont"] [member="Duke Dyson"] [member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Alleycat]

The rather abrupt entrance of the commanding officer broke the uncomfortable fixation Max had on the baby being held by the older pilot down front, but not before [member="Rayf Vigil"]'s gaze briefly met with his own as the man scanned those in attendance across the room.

Immediately, Darksun schooled his riled up emotions and sat up straighter in his chair. The Chandrilan gave the CO a confident nod of acknowledgement, then all attention went to the briefing material that was presented on the holoprojector.

.

Max ran a hand down over his mouth in a thoughtful manner as his dark orbs took in the information rolling out before his eyes. Sluis Van was where the Wraiths, their new squad's name, were headed, and the 'Ruuk were their desired target to spy on.

​

"What kind of craft will we be using for the aerial recon and ground insertion?" he spoke up as it was question and answer time; adding to the inquires already thrown out there by the other pilots.

[member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Frielle Kinniak"] | [member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Decker Willo"]​

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Frielle was quiet, she listened to the other pilots as they brought up their questions. A recon mission, she could use the distraction and the test - she needed out of this room. Frielle kept herself still, her bearings were held, the fringe jacket she wore shifted as she moved within her seat. Wraiths. It was nice not to be alone anymore, all she could recall from L-49 were the sounds of her squad at the hands of the First Order. Coruscant, the fall - all of it still weighed heavily in her mind and even more so now that she realized just who she was related to. It made the spacer angry, and the more she thought about it the more she needed a target to shoot. Her jaw clenched tightly, and as the silence took the room Frielle snapped back to reality.

Sulis Van.

Ruuks. They surged through what had been the First Order and completely decimated them. She should congratulate them but now wasn't the time. The time now was to hear the answers to the questions fielded and move on. The longer they sat here was another moment they weren't out there in the black. Frielle took in a breath and exhaled, doing her best to keep her patience. The inquiries made were important she knew that, one of her 'squadmates' asked about new birds. Honestly, it hadn't occured to her that she'd have to leave her old bird on the Qi'ra. The spacer relaxed as she waited for the Old Man™ to address the others.

[member="Max Darksun"] | [member="Rayf Vigil"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Decker Willo"] | [member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"]

 

[Rayf Vigil]

Just as Rayf had expected, he was flooded with questions. Thankfully they were focused on the mission at hand and not what this meant for their futures. Those were the kinds of pilots the Old Man needed. Some of them recognized the name, veteran pilots [member="Decker Willo"] and [member="Frielle Kinniak"] shifted uncomfortably when he first mentioned Sluis Van. They knew what he was asking them to do, that the Sluis system was a stronghold of the outer rim. Commander Vigil held up a hand for silence.

"We'll be flying X-Wings," he answered [member="Max Darksun"], knowing that what he said next would rob his pilots of that relief, "A new StealthX model, cutting edge."

They wouldn't like that. It was one thing to ask a pilot to fly into certain danger, but to do it in a new and unfamiliar ship? He didn't like it much either, but it was necessary. Lifting a large suitcase onto the briefing table in front of the room, Rayf popped it open and pulled out an unusual looking blaster fire. Being in Wraith Squadron meant getting used to a lot of things very quickly.

"This is the A280 Covert Field Edition," Vigil continued, nodding to his old wingman [member="Cuan Kunn"], "It comes in three configurations. A core pistol, an assault attachment, and an expanded sniper component."

He demonstrated each configuration on the table in front of them, swapping the blaster from assault to sniper with a few minor adjustments, then breaking the entire thing back down to the core pistol underneath. Setting the blaster aside, he pulled out a much smaller holdout pistol from the same suitcase.

"Alliance Adjudicator," he explained, racking the chamber to discharge a projectile shell casing, "Low powered slugthrower with a silencer attachment for quiet take downs."

Rayf set it aside next to the A280-CFE, and gave each pilot in the room a long look.

"We deploy right now," he said to [member="Loske Matson"], "Take a minute if you need it, but we'll assemble at the hangar in ten. A bird will be assigned to you, each with a survival kit inside. These will include your weapons as well as any diagnostic equipment necessary for the ground surveillance operation. Dismissed."

[member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Petir Soont"]​

 

[Loske Treicolt]

The newly commissioned weapons, both vehicular and handheld, indicated two things.

1. The Alliance Remnant was ready to invest in the squadron
2. This was new people, new vehicles, new weapons. High risk.

Loske, and by extension Frank, would have to be on their best behaviour. Especially in Ssi-Ruuk territory -- the prospects of danger were invariably likely. If nobody knew what they’d been applying for, it was darn well obvious now.

“I'd like that minute. Maybe we do a brief around the room of introductions, before we get into our new birds. At least register our call signs, if we have them, with each other since everything we’re about to do is new.” She gave a brief pause, but realized she should probably keep going before any sort of interruption prevented her from continuing this minute team building exercise.

“Name’s Loske Matson - I’m a former lieutenant with Rogue Squadron - and delighted to take flight with you for this, and upcoming missions.”

In jest, she gave a simper toward the collective in the briefing room. “And if it feels right, we can all put our fists in the middle for a kickoff hoo-rah.”

[member="Rayf Vigil"] / [member="Frielle Kinniak"] / [member="Max Darksun"] / [member="Cuan Kunn"] / [member="Petir Soont"] / [member="Duke Dyson"]

 

[Alleycat]

A StealthX would be their bird, and the latest model too... Darksun couldn't object too much to that. It made perfect sense if the Wraiths were to be a covert special ops type of squadron.

Max gave a pleased nod to the answer provided by [member="Rayf Vigil"], then continued to listen to the commanding officer give the walk-through of their new gear. The weapons were nice as well. The academy trained farm boy was liking what he was hearing and seeing so far. Then came the moment they were probably all waiting for... when were they going to deploy.

The reformed Alliance didn't waste anytime breaking them in. Being that they all were top candidates to start with and had passed the rigorous testing to get this far, it wasn't a stretch to utilize them right away in the field.

When [member="Loske Matson"] interjected that they should do a quick introduction, he waited for the pretty blonde to finish then added his two cents in the pot real quick.

"I'm Max Darksun. Reaper is my callsign. I served with the Chandrilan Defense Fleet... Just glad to be working with you good folks again. Let's kick some serious six, huh?" the Chandrilan offered in brief, feeling better than before now that he had a renewed purpose and a call to duty once again.

[member="Frielle Kinniak"] | [member="Decker Willo"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Petir Soont"]​

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Stealth X?

Frielle mused the idea of flying one, and while it wasn't her bird, it'll do. The pilot was just starting to let the idea marinate especially since they were headed to Sulis Van of all places, and then the pretty one talked. Register call signs? No, those were earned. You didn't just- And then the broody one spoke. Force on a stick someone just send her to the Netherworld already. Wait. She was already there, she debated on whether or not she was going to talk. Mhmmm, probably the thing to do but right now? This was a waste of time, they had dinos to skin they could exchange pleasantries later. "If you survive, I'll consider giving you my first initial." Frielle rose to her feet and headed for the door, "see you in the black, or not." She wasn't their mother and on the orders of the Old Man™ the spacer headed down the hallway.

Did he really call himself Reaper? What sort of edgelor- Wait, was he playing that new game? Watchover? Frielle would stick to the number she had been assigned before the big collapse. Three. Wraith-3, they didn't have time for names and callsigns then. It was getting in and getting out, and don't get dead. The Galaxy wasn't a nice place to be in, Frielle took off her fringe jacket and tossed it into the nearest waste bin she came across.

The hangar wouldn't be hard to find, and there a smirk came across her lips as they thinned upward. She approached the deck chief for her assigned bird. "Hello, sweetie." She spun on her heels to be greeted by the sight of the Stealth-X. "I'll have to get under your hood when we're done, but let's hope they didn't mess up your insides much." Frielle all but whispered to the metal beast before her. Ascending the ladder she looked over at the helmet that sat there. Taking it under her arm she climbed into the canopy, getting ready for take-off she looked through the dash while fastening her helmet. While Sulis Van wouldn't have been her first choice, it felt nice to be part of a squadron again - not that she'd ever let them know that.

[member="Decker Willo"] | [member="Cuan Kunn"] | [member="Petir Soont"] | [member="Loske Matson"] | [member="Max Darksun"] | [member="Duke Dyson"] | [member="Rayf Vigil"]