Faction Mighty Wings

[Wedge Draav]

THREE DAYS EARLIER

ANAXES
GADF NAVAL STARFIGHTER CORPS HEADQUARTERS
​

Being called to the Starfighter Corps headquarters was one of two things in Wedge's case. It was either really good. Or really bad. Nobody got called in from off-world and off their post to come to the Starfighter Headquarters. It wasn't something as simple as a court-martial, either. That could be handled at any post, at any world. It was either worse- or better.

The door opened to the Admiral's Office. Admiral Yagon stepped out, rather than an aide. He narrowed his eyes, and motioned Wedge into his office without so much as a word. The Zabrak was well known for a no-nonsense approach to command and orders specifically, and a rather abrupt style of command. He motioned Wedge to sit down, and Wedge complied. His office was meticulous, and on the walls were practically lined with awards, decorations, and certificates and photos. Paper photos- an oddity in an age with holograms.

Wedge took a seat, crumbling his beret in his hand nervously, his left leg bouncing.

Admiral Yagon sat down across from him, reaching down below his desk, opening a drawer.

He produced a set of Lieutenant Commander ranks, one for a collar and one for someone's headgear. Admiral Yagon spun in his chair, watching the passing ships, the transports, X-wings, and training squadrons flying over.

He held up a datapad as he did so, turning back to Wedge. He hadn't yet said a word.

"Comes with a cost, Lieutenant."

He turned back towards him after sliding the datapad across from him. Wedge didn't have to see much of anything to know what it meant. It was simple on the datapad. Before any files, before any doctrines, SOPs, personnel showed up on the screen, one well touted symbol of the Alliance popped up.

Revenant Squadron.

Wedge had nothing to lose.

"I'm in, sir."

JANARA III
CORUSCANT TIME: 0400 HOURS

Get 'em.

​

Janara III was a relatively good place to be.


That is of course, if you weren't selected for Revenant Squadron. And about to face the GADF's most grueling SERE course. It was taught to the best of the best. The elite units of the GADF all went through a similar training at various parts of the galaxy. Most Special Forces completed the course at the end of their training before being sent to their respective units and to the frontlines.

Wedge hadn't gone yet. Only the best of the best went there. Very rarely did even Jedi go through it.

Search, Evasion, Resistance, and Escape training. SERE. All pilots and aircraft personnel went through some form of SERE, for sure- but it was hardly compared to this. This was as much of a selection process as anything else. Hell, even showing up to Janara III was a test of character. The schoolhouse was legendary for it's brutality and ruthlessness. It wasn't even sure what the curriculum was, and every member that went through it signed an NDA to ensure maximum secrecy. But it was made aware to every person coming to it that they would be subjected to what the Sith could potentially throw at them. And if a Pilot could evade a Sith, or resist them, then- well. They could survive just about anything. More than that, it also taught survival skills in a variety of environments, save for desert related courses. Most pilots already knew that from their initial training, and a two week course was all it took.

Wedge forgot where the outpost was that it was on, but it wasn't probably somewhere with a beach or anything pleasant.

But the school was designed after the wars with the Sith. After the reports of torture from the Sith. And how to resist them. So Wedge knew damn well that it was going to be hard. He just wasn't sure how hard it was going to be. Wedge was the first one into the role call room. Anyone who didn't show up in the next thirty minutes was going to be a no-show and off the team. The survival and evasion training was to be for the first few days of training, while the escape and resistance training was afterwards. After that, each member would receive a pin, shaped as a old mechanical-style lock wrapped in a golden chain. A symbol that the person was unbreakable, unbeatable. Wearing that was a mark of one's tenacity. Perhaps not combat prowess, but definitely something to look at someone who underwent it and displayed the badge as a symbol of their willpower alone.

It was something to be said about someone who could stand up to the power of the Sith as a regular person, unaided by the force. Of all the demigods in the galaxy, a person standing up to the unyielding power of the force- the force that had toppled Empires, cities, planets? It marked the person as more than their standard fare.

He wasn't actually sure if any Jedi were coming to the team yet. He'd wait for the next thirty minutes to see.

Wedge knew the value of the training from the intense buy-in alone. Pilots were well informed and had information and intelligence that regular troops simply did not, from troop maneuvers, fleet makeups, codes and encryption memorized, and typically more in-depth knowledge of the battle space than the average grunt. Not always, but grunts simply did not have the position or information given to a pilot on the ground. A pilot typically had a rougher idea of where most, if not nearly all, of the friendly forces were. Either from briefing or just their position. Additionally, the damage that a pilot could do to an enemy was not taken lightly when captured.

A grunt usually took other grunts out with them. A pilot could kill hundreds in the span of a few hours. He knew that to be true, since he had done not even a few weeks prior at Caldera.

So for Revenant, he wanted the best. And he wanted the toughest and the bravest.

But steps had to be taken, and he had to make them too. He was just as nervous as the other pilots, but he'd be damned if he didn't make the steps with his new troops. After all, being hand-selected by Admiral Yagon was a sign of positivity.

Or maybe the Admiral really didn't like him and wouldn't mind humiliating him, or even better, Wedge to be in a fireball in the next few weeks on his first engagement. Hard to tell with that guy.

Wedge checked his watch. Thirty-seven minutes until cutoff.

And about nine until he ran out of caf.

---

Spoiler: OOC

Three days prior, your pilot got told they were invited to be part of Revenant Squadron...

But had to report to Janara III for the most grueling, intensive and terrifying training the GADF has to offer to prepare them for the worst case scenario: being captured or shot down in-orbit.

How will they take it? Are they scared? Excited?

Or are they even going to come at all...?

 

[Mylo Thorne]

​

​

JANARA III, INNER RIM
EN ROUTE TO READY ROOM 12

Wedge Draav

​

Mylo could only just about bear the ruthless bouncing of the decrepit shuttle that hurtled towards Janara III. It knocked him about, putting intense strain on a seatbelt that seemed to be working overtime. He couldn't count how many times he'd had to adjust himself already, and he'd contemplated marching up to the cockpit and flying the vehicle himself, but a strange mixture of laziness and respect had restrained him.

He peered out of the portside viewport, down at the white swirls amongst the lush green landscape that rushed towards them. The brutal and angular architecture of the outpost jutted out of the landscape, standing out like a sore thumb amongst the natural richness that surrounded it.

Turning back to the window on the opposite side, he slouched back in the seat, trying to reminisce about the last time he'd been here. Command had thought it pertinent to put him through his paces, considering the Raiders had been a Special Operations unit, he'd been put through the same rigours that Special Forces troopers had to go through, and he wasn't afraid to admit that he'd struggled.

Hell, he'd failed the first time round.

Though, to Mylo the most important thing was that he'd stuck through it, even if it felt like he was going to perish at certain points. A small thud ripped him out of his thoughts and indicated that they'd arrived. Undoing the seatbelt, he made his way to the blast doors, the hydraulic hiss of the doors followed by daylight flooding into the small shuttle. Having to squint a bit, he could make out two figures, a large blue-skinned Duros male in a uniform that was more than a bit too tight for him, and a slim Umbaran with stark white skin, donning a long white gown and rank plaque.

The cogs started turning and he tried to deduce who they were. Probably Naval Ops or Intelligence or some other assorted bureaucrat. The Umbaran was the first to speak up, with a voice like silk and an emotionless expression plastered across her face.

"Welcome back to Janara III, Commander Thorne, we've been expecting you."

Mylo, still a little bit groggy and slightly shaken from the ride, offered a nod and a small grunt of acknowledgement as they led him down the walkway.

The trio stalked across in silence, Mylo taking the opportunity to relive the memories of the cold sterile walls which provided a stark contrast to the natural beauty of this planet. He remembered being taken here with a class of Special Forces troopers before he was authorised to take command of Raider Squadron, a unit of foreign pilots who'd volunteered to fight the Sith and Imperials. He remembered a distinct out-of-place feeling that had all but evaporated.

The Duros piped up. "He's waiting for you in Readyroom Twelve, your uh-" He paused for a moment, seemingly to catch his breath. "Your Executive Officer, I'm sure you've gone through all the uh necessary documents concerning him, he's a veteran of the war, much like yourself, and uh he comes highly recommended." Good to know. Mylo zoned out a bit as the Duros continued to ramble on, picking up small details that he'd read about this man.

A name came to mind. Wedge Draav. It rang a bell, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it. Well, he'd meet him soon enough.

Just around the corner, a kindly young aide had told him. He ambled on, the two personnel having long left him to his own devices. He peered through a small cupola to see a brown-haired man enjoying what looked like a cup of caf. First impressions counted.

Entering the room, he took a moment to study the man, a human male such as himself, with a neat brown mustache set across his top lip and stylish light brown hair. Suddenly he felt slightly overdressed, tugging at the brand-new blue flight suit and running a hand through short dark hair which was over-so-slightly greying. A consequence of the war he was only starting to notice.

"So you're the one who Yagon sent? Tell him hello from me next time you see him." He pulled out a chair, taking a seat and offering a hand to the fellow pilot. "Commander Mylo Thorne, it's a pleasure." The pilot mentioned, offering an even but warm expression. Numerous battle honours including the patch he'd kept from the original Revenant Squadron adorned the arm of his flight suit. There was an incongruence between his relatively youthful features and the slightly greying goatee and dark black hair, making his age ambiguous.

But the patches told a story of long and dedicated service. Mylo had meticulously read the roster and the hardest thing for him, was that he would be the only remaining member of the original unit. It brought that ever so familiar pang of guilt back, though he kept himself steeled enough to meet Wedge's gaze.

 

[Elijah Beckett]

Three Days Earlier,
Somewhere in the Outer Rim…​

After you spent most of your late teens training, then roughly two decades fighting in a war, it wasn’t too shocking that someone would want to spend time far away from it all. That had been Elijah’s particular modus operandi for his ‘retirement’. Once the war had ended, and he had been honourably discharged, he packed his bags and made a beeline for the Outer Rim. Not exactly a popular choice for vacation, but as much as Elijah wanted to distance himself from conflict, he inevitably stumbled into it.

He travelled around the Outer Rim, either just flying around or helping out locals in need. Sometimes it was simply deliveries, other times it was getting rid of some pesky outlaws or hostile wildlife. The rest of the time was spent at bars, enjoying a drink and chatting with the locals. Places that would’ve once seen the Judges and Marshalls of ORC and OPA visit frequently. How Elijah wished they were still active these days, if only so he could offer them a drink and ask for a story or two.

It was in one such dingy bar, that an old face showed up. They weren’t wearing a uniform, but it was impossible for Elijah to not see that military strut in the man’s step. He pulled out the stool next to him, and placed his hat down onto the bar, revealing a full head of grey hair. The man’s identity was unmistakable, one Admiral Samuel H. Beckett.

“Elijah.”

“Uncle.” He replied, taking a moment to sip his drink. “What brings you around this neck of the galaxy?” Elijah already had a pretty good idea. He had told his folks of his plans, and not wanting to be disturbed. If they wanted to see him, then it would be at the next Life Day, or family gathering. The fact his uncle was here meant only one of two things, and he knew the man wasn’t one for beating around the bush.

“You’re being called back into service, Captain.” Going straight for his rank was all Elijah needed to know, to know how serious this was. Much as he disliked the idea of going back to the Corps so soon, he couldn’t shake the feeling something big was stirring.

“What exactly do they need me for? I’m retired remember, and I ain’t no Instructor.”

“Naval Ops are constructing new squadrons, and your name has made the shortlist of one.” Samuel reached into his coat, pulling out a datapad and sliding it across to Elijah. The action screamed ‘your eyes only’. “You didn’t hear it from me, but I hear they’re rebuilding the Revenant Squadron.”

Now that caught Elijah’s interest, as he took a large sip of his drink before looking down at the datapad. His Uncle stood up, but there was a small knowing smile on the older man’s face. He already knew Elijah’s answer.

“Alright, where am I heading to?”

Janara III
Tags: Wedge Draav | Mylo Thorne​

The shuttle ride down to the planet was as bumpy as Elijah expected. But his attention was too focused on Janara III to be bothered by it. Throughout his years training, and even during his service, he had heard about the rumours involving the planet. That it was apparently where the elite were sent for training. And only the best of the best made it through that hellhole.

Once he was groundside, Elijah was greeted by a Umbaran and a Duros. The former was the one to step forwards first.

“Welcome to Janara Three, Captain Beckett. We’ve been expecting you.”

“Indeed, we were relieved to hear that Admiral Beckett was able to reach you. We had uh…difficulties tracking you down.”

Elijah said nothing, just flashed a look of ‘that was the point’ before it smoothed out into a neutral expression. He hadn’t been looking forward to the bureaucratic nonsense, and this was already proving himself right. But he maintained a level of professionalism, made some small talk as he was escorted through the building. Eventually he made it to “Ready Room 12”, and without missing a beat he stepped into the room.

His eyes swept across it, settling on the two men that were present, already deep in conversation. It was going to be very interesting to be working within a squadron again, after flying solo for so long.

“Well, looks like I’m the third to arrive.” He announced, likely interrupting whatever conversation the two were having. Elijah walked down the aisle of seats, then over to where Wedge and Mylo were and took up a seat next to them. “I’m Captain Beckett, nice to meetcha both.”

 

[Addison Porte]

EXPLORATION
JANARA III, INNER RIM
Reformation of Revenant Squadron
Mylo Thorne | Wedge Draav | Elijah Beckett | others to join

​

Seventy-two hours earlier at the wedding of fellow Jedi Hollis Orenn and Justice Lesan on Naboo...

Addison stood with the other non-committed ladies in the middle of the dance floor as the bride eyed them all with a soft grin before turning her back on them. Just as Hollis was readying to toss her wedding bouquet to the crowd of seemingly excited young women, the Taanabian's iComm chimed. It was a ringtone not heard in some time.

The long-legged brunette immediately exited the outdoor reception tent to open up an urgent message sent from the Galactic Alliance's Starfighter Corps High Command; missing the toss altogether but like it wasn't a big deal to Addy for she wasn't attached to anyone currently as time, space, and duty made it difficult to even keep contact with any potentials.

Okay, more singular than plural. The one that got away perhaps? Well, it was probably for the best as both were pilots and to be honest the relationship, if that is what one called it, had just started to spark a flame. It was not enough to engulf a forest but maybe it could make for a small campfire to be warm and inviting. One could always hope it was perceived that way by the other. A good start yet short-lived or was it?

​

Present time...

Leaving her pilot bag and flight gear in a foot locker located outside Ready Room Twelve where an Umbaran and Duros had escorted her upon arrival, Addison took a moment to calm herself; taking in a deep breath and finding her center in the Force.

Was she nervous? Yes, it was healthy to be so to a certain degree though it was more out of curiosity as to the who, how, and why of things that constituted the reformation of the Alliance's elite squadron in the first place. There had not been a whole lot of information given other than the initial invitation offered, though something about some kind of special training for those participating. Why not, right?

"Tinks" had been just a rookie when the teenage padawan joined Revenant Squadron as a replacement pilot before the Ilum Incursion by the Imperials. It had been her lifelong dream to follow in her mother's esteemed footsteps, and that was her chance. "Alleycat" in her prime had been Rogue Leader, fighting the good fight against the One Sith, then finishing up her tenure as such during the early days of the Border War with the First Order.

Since Rev Eight's last sorte with the squadron against the Maw, Addison had flown with the New Jedi Order's Twin Suns, but that was here and there depending on the mission parameters; the most important helping to defeat the Brotherhood of the Maw at the Battle of Exegol. It's funny not really but... how war, death, and the need to survive can make one grow up faster than not. Certainly, that was the case for Addy.

Most of the young woman's time after that had been aiding her parents, both Jedi themselves, with their Great River project in the Outer Rim. Which in itself brought new initiates into the AgriCorps and allowed the Portes to start an under the radar Jedi chapterhouse from the family estate on Naboo; akin to what was on her homeworld in the distant past. It was rewarding work, challenging too yet not. This would definitely be a change of pace for her as the need for speed always tickled in the back of the fighter jockey's mind.

After taking one more deep breath, the young Jedi Ace now squared her shoulders, then entered the ready room where there was one face she clearly recognized and two she didn't. The dark-haired woman walked down to where the men were gathered with a confident yet humble stride, dressed in a similar flight suit with the Revenant Squadron patch on the right shoulder and the Jedi's Twin Suns on the left. Course the other tale tell sign she was a Force user was the slender cylinder that hung from her utility belt slung low off her shapely hips.

"Lieutenant Porte reporting as invited, Sir," Addy offered the Commander with a crisp salute, then gave a nod to the other two officers present. "I look forward to serving with you again," she added with a small smile.

And now the fun begins...

​

 

[Su Rov]

Three Rotations Ago
Defender II - Class Assault Carrier "The Bravus"
Iskallon system, Wild Space​

Tag: Wedge Draav Mylo Thorne Elijah Beckett Addison Porte

The main hangar bay was mostly empty of personal save for some maintenance being done by repair droids and a few engineers working the late shift. At one of the rigs inside the cockpit of a SS01 X-wing sat a Sullustan wearing brown headgear with goggles, a dark sleeveless shirt with blue flight pants and dark boots. She stared down at the data computer inquisitively. Then Su Rov shook her head in disappointment before the orange astromech behind beeped confirmation.

"Yea you're right Tin the stats are off. We'll have to do more recalibration.”

Tin chirped back before the young pilot grimaced before sighing in exhaustion and resignation. She stretched her arms out as well before admitting.

"I know I need to get some sleep and you certainly need a break. But I…I just want to make sure to get this fixed as soon as possible. In that last patrol the stabilizers almost gave out. We're no help to anyone if we can't take care of our own ship."

The droid's next comment projected concern making Su pause and glance over to bay, staring out into space. She allowed herself to smile.

Back home I used to sneak out of my room and rest on the roof to look up at the heavens. Even…after everything that happened and what I did the stars are still a source of comfort and inspiration to me.

Her thoughts when Tin squeaked in alert. Her mouse like eyes widened before twisting around to see a black furred Bothan male in an officer's uniform was advancing toward her.

"Crap it‘s the commander!" She muttered before getting up and slide down from the stair rig.

Standing at attention Su Rov gave a quick salute before the commander returned it as he stopped meters away. He wasn't angry but was concerned and slightly disappointed.

"Rov you were supposed to be back in your bunk, getting some shut eye."

"Apologies sir, I was reviewing the readouts and…got carried away."

"Rest is as important as work even great pilots like you need it. Learn to keep a balance. The last time you were found sleeping in the cockpit the next rotation."

Su said nothing before nodding, still a bit embarrassed about that incident.

The commander pinched the bridge of his snout but looked her in the eyes again. Subsequently he pulled out file and handed it to her.

"But it's out of my hands now, Rov. Get your pack, you'll be leaving in the next transport in an hour. You're being reassigned."

Su's jaw dropped at the news.

"Uh?!"

Present Time
Janara III, Inner Rim​

Now wearing a bluish flight jacket that matched most of her attire, Su held her duffel bag tightly in her seat as the shuttle shook in violent quakes every several seconds. Beside was Tin who magnetized his legs to stay put. Even after reading the file multiple times she was mystified at what's happening.

They picked me?! I'm good at my job but this is Revenant Squadron we're talking about.

Of course an old saying came to her. Don't look a Gift Fathier in the mouth. Still she couldn't help but be curious. She had only been part of the Starfighter Corps for almost a year but to get this opportunity was beyond incredible.

At another shake Tin beeped in encouragement as if sensing Su's thoughts. Grateful she grinned.

"You're right buddy, we can't waste this. I'm not going to screw this up because we got each other's back.”

The mech beeped in cheer, causing Su to chuckle in spite of another quake onboard. Once the shuttle finally entered the atmosphere, stabilizing its course. Then minutes later they arrived at the base. Once getting off the ramp with Tin rolling beside her they were greeted by their handlers. Su didn't say much other than yes sir or no to the Duros but just nodded and answered yes or no while the Umbaran took her bag.

Directed to a door, by them Su and Tin shared a glance with one another.

"This is it." She whispered to the droid both excited and nervous.

Hope I don't throw up In front of everyone. Gross, don't think about it. Be cool, be cool.

Steadying her breath she went forward with Tin rolling along. Quickly the door slide opened and revealed several pilots already present. At the sight of them Su unsuccessfully tried to not look anxious before giving a salute to them when they noticed her. Then she went over to a seperate corner, attempting not to get in the way.

Rubbing her gloved hands a bit Su looked back at Tin and she rubbed the astromech's dome as they waited. Whatever happens they were in this together.

 

[Ari Naldax]

3 Days Earlier
JDB Coromon - Fresia - Core Worlds

​

"You're sure you don't want me on the maintenance staff for the other nuggets?" Vazal asked the newly-reinstated Colonel as she tinkered with zeroing on the her laser cannons, making sure that everything was lined up for the ACM Exercise they were just about to run out at the Afterburner Arches. She still would need some time to get used to the iconic orange flight-suit her new employes had issued her - not to mention all of the mechanics saluting her every time she hit the flight deck.

"Clear Range!" Making sure the make-shift zeroing range in the hanger bay was clear, she tapped in a few orders on her data pad - the Wolf-X's laser cannons coming to life and sending a volley of low-powered shots to the reinforced plating downrange. She frowned as she compared the targeting data with the actual hits that were scored. "Rook, this is the opportunity of a lifetime for a nugget like you." Ari paused as the newly-minted flight officer starting making the miniscule adjustments to the cannons that would make a massive difference down range. "Let's try 1 MOA up..." Vazal knew that Ari was unhappy of having come back to the Alliance - but they hadn't been able to build the resources to fight their little private war against the Remnants, and apparently something big was brewing in the Galaxy. The Colonel had been asked back to run the Celchu FTC, but the fact she was wanted Vazal to go was confusing.

"Revenant Squadron has always been known as one of the best, and I've served with your new CO personally - you're in good hands, trust me. Clear Range!" Again Vazal tapped a few orders, followed by a another volley down the range, this time much more to the two pilots' satisfaction. closing the maintenance panel on the laser cannons, Vazal slid off the edge of the S-foils and wiped a bead of sweat off of her brow, handing the datapad to Ari for final approval. "Besides, these are orders - not requests. You came with my personal recommendation - the Galaxy needs you, and you need someone like Commander Thorne teaching you how to fight as part of a team." Handing Vazal the datacron holding her transfer orders, once the colonel signed off on the maintenance, the two pilots began the walk back towards their quarters, "Best make sure everything's packed. you've got a long flight ahead of you."

​

As shaky as it was - even some of the marines on board were holding their stomachs a bit as the shuttle shook - It wasn't anything terribly new for Vazal - flying on junkers and uglies back on Raxus meant dealing with everything from acid storms, inertial comps randomy failing, and even engine cutouts. The shakes and rolls of flying into Janara wasn't going to turn her stomach any.

Touching the Ground, Vazal couldn't help but breathe in the fresh air - something she wasn't used to given her background, but that was always a welcome surprise. Approaching group of officers and pilots waiting, Vazal sat her bag down and snapped to a salute in front of Commander Thorne, waiting for his return before handing him her transfer orders, excited to be put to the test.

"Sir, Flight Officer Vazal Danty. Colonel Naldax has told me quite a bit about you. I'm excited to fly and learn under you."

Mylo Thorne Su Rov Elijah Beckett Addison Porte Wedge Draav

 

[Teravin Arosin]

Teravin was quiet as he entered the room, his arm resting comfortably on the pistol that lay holstered on his belt. He’d finally made it. The best of the best. Again. It’d taken ten years of training his tail off, but at least he’d had the advantage of some instincts to rely on. The competition in the Armis Militia had been fierce. Most soldiers feared that one trick that would do them in. That one stroke of luck that prodded their weakness. They feared finding what it was they didn’t know that meant there would be no more chances to learn. Like many of his peers, Teravin had already had that moment. It had ended with a fireball in the veran skies with him screaming his rage until fire filled his lungs.

Four hundred years of darkness, locked in the purgatory of the netherworld. No ships. No stars. No skies. It had been maddening. Then a light. A new valde with a new chance. They called it the Miracle Initiative. They couldn’t have been more right. He paid back his debt in blood and sweat over the course of fifty years, building back the spires of his home. Then he’d returned to his own passions. One week ago, he had been selected as the newest addition to the growing initiative to integrate the Armis Militia into the Galactic Alliance.

Even without his time away from the galaxy, the son of house Teravin was ages older than the pilots that filtered into the room with him. Zorrens were funny that way. He had been lucky to die in his two-thousands. Most Zorrens didn’t even come close to their middle ages. Now here he was, back at the top and preparing for what was touted as one hellish bout of SERE training. He almost had to laugh. What these guys called training, he called Taungsday night. Veradune, beyond the walls of the city, was a forested hellscape where every zorren went out once for a month to undergo their trials. And many times after that to hunt for a good meal, or to stretch their legs. It wasn’t the planet that made his tail twitch nervously. It was the idea of fitting in with people young enough to call him literal ancient history. "Here we go," he muttered under his breath, his clawed fingers tapping against the desk and his pistol.

Mylo Thorne Su Rov Elijah Beckett Addison Porte Wedge Draav Ari Naldax

 

[Kelly T. Perris]

R E F O R M A T I O N
Wedge Draav ★ Mylo Thorne ★ Elijah Beckett ★ Addison Porte ★ Su Rov ★ Ari Naldax ★ Teravin Arosin

Three Days Prior
A Parked Shuttle
Former Maw Space

With his feet up on the console, hands laced over his stomach, and eyes closed, Perris could very well give the impression of being asleep (though he wasn't), and you couldn't really blame him. If there was one thing that was a frequent fact of life across the board in the GADF, it was the hurry up and wait, and that was true no matter who he was playing escort to, or flying with, or the reason for the outing... but at least this was still preferable to twiddling his thumbs on however long of a gods-damned leave they had expected him to take after Exegol; he'd jumped at the chance to get back into whatever cockpit they could get away with putting him in, and prove he could still be effective despite everything, and that they needed him to be there, rather than driving himself crazy. It scratched the eternal itch of the fighter pilot well enough, and helped mitigate the guilt some that had been building at surviving the whittling away of his mates in the last stages of the war, his first promotion in those days despite his feelings about whether he'd earned it at the time, and Revenant's disbandment after the war's conclusion. A stretch of time that felt impossibly long for how long it actually was, and the time since felt both longer still, and strangely as if it was only yesterday.

In the early days after Exegol, it would have been too easy to crawl into a bottle, but drink had acquired the acrid taste of ash in its ability to remind him. To point him to the remembering of those that once drank alongside him since he had been loaded into Revenant Squadron ahead of the Alliance's move on Thyferra, fresh out of the academy... and he had already felt numb without the help of how many bottles it might take to get him there, otherwise. All it had taken to ultimately begin to pull him out from beneath the suffocating waves was one name being absent from the lists when they came available. One name to keep him from drowning for long enough to notice the absence of others from those accountings of the dead, and make him start to fight to keep his head above the metaphorical water. Yet when he had begun to roll that fact over in his thoughts, later, it didn't quite make sense. Those few memories had a warmth to them, that's the honest truth, but he didn't know whether dwelling on them would do any good, or have any point.

Wasn't hard to want it to, though, "...but reality's a stone-cold mistress," he muttered to himself as his personal comm buzzed mere seconds before the shuttle's comm sparked to life, the voice of one Marine sharply invoking his temporary callsign, Wheatie, above sounds of blaster bolts and the incomprehensible, inhuman scream of - well, he wasn't sure what - telling him in no uncertain terms, and with the help of the Marine's words, to fire things up and be ready to climb out of whatever fresh hell this was soon as they reached him. All while he was half-eying the words of the missive that had been sent his way, half-listening to the fact that this op had gotten uglier than expected. It wasn't until the guy shouted Perris' temp callsign through the comm a second time that he realised he'd been transfixed on the words he was reading, made into stone for a scant moment by the weight of them.

"Hearin' you loud and clear," he snapped back, quickly, snapping out of it, "will be hoverin' when you arrive; run faster or I'll leave you as its meal." He could tease apart the way he felt about that reassignment and all its pertinent details, later. Right now, time was moving very fast and it was all about... well, not getting eaten, he figured. "And now that's Captain Wheatie to you, Nancy."

All Kelly could do is laugh as the Marine (Callsign: Malignance, typically called Mal for short) called him a cunt between hard breaths, while Kelly finished flicking switches and pressing buttons to bring the shuttle to life...

Present Day
Janara III - Inner Rim
Enroute to Ready Room 12

The few days following the end of that assignment were a transition from there to Janara III that moved just as fast as that exfil, yet slow as anything as he spent the time between gathering himself and the transit mulling over what faced him ahead of the janky shuttle ride down to the verdant planet's surface. He'd passed much of the time in the transport trying to feel at home in the new flightsuit stitched with his own Revenant patch from when he'd first received that squadron assignment, all that time ago, as well as mulling over what he'd been handed along with this new flightsuit - his new orders, and the new rank pips accorded to him to go along with that. He questioned anything that seemed to come too easily, the name he carried made him wary of anything that didn't feel earned on his own merits, and it was hard to tell if it'd been long enough since the last time.

But all of that was part of the bigger thing: Revenant Squadron was reforming, and if there was one thing that made coming to terms with that easier, it was that he already knew the Commander he'd be reporting to; they'd at least filled him in on that bit in advance, but the rest of their number was a mystery. Apparently not set entirely in stone at the time he was first informed, which told him one thing: they were being picky. When he put two and two together, that made it a little easier to come to further acceptance of the position they'd put him in, and it made what they were going to be on Janara III for... less of a ragged thing, in some way.

When the shuttle touched down at the facility, he didn't linger within it or take his time in any manner. Fetching his bag and slinging it over his shoulder, he waited for the doors to open and exited the shuttle soon as it was possible to, and came to be greeted by the sight of what he supposed were their handlers - an Umbaran and a Duros. The Umbaran spoke first.

"Welcome to Janara Three, Captain Perris. We've been expecting you."

[ Why ] he thought, [ does this feel like one of those old sci-fi horror holos? ]

The Duros dispersed that errant thought, speaking next, "Yes, we're ah... most relieved you could make it here in one piece." Kelly looked at them, narrow-eyed for a sliver of a moment, wondering if they had known about that in advance - intel had said nothing about the creature - then followed along with the pair as the Duros continued on, with innocuous small talk that filled the time en-route to the ready room, where they left him. Tucking his bag into a foot locker outside the room and the datacron with his orders in a pocket, he let himself in, and took account of the faces present. Most were unfamiliar but for two, altogether less than a full twelve. The number he supposed was expected, this was still coming together, but the nagging feeling that this was off for other reasons would take a while to dissipate.

"Huh," Kelly sounded, then looked to Mylo, and snapped him a quick salute, "Captain Perris - good to be serving with you again, sir," he quipped, and thereafter, he turned his gaze to Addison; nothing short of thankful for a second familiar face, a corner of his mouth pulled up, "and you, Tinks."

 

[Wedge Draav]

JANARA III
CORUSCANT TIME: 0400 HOURS

Back at it.

Curiously-
​

Wedge didn't wear any badges, ribbons, or medals. In fact, his rank.. his new rank, rather, of Lieutenant Commander, was the only new thing about his uniform. His green flightsuit was rather undecorated, only displaying a unique patch, a shaving razor with wings. Other than that, his name, rank, and the Alliance logo were the only markings. That, and the indication that he was currently a HAAT gunship pilot. Not that it was bad to be proud of your service.

Maybe Wedge wasn't entirely.

Wedge had a unique set of scars on his face. They were uniform and cut deep. It was common knowledge that Wedge had been shot down and survived. That wasn't a story that he liked telling. But it made him stand out all the more.

"Lieutenant Commander Wedge Draav. Pleasure to meet you."

He took another sip from his caf container. Wedge's stare was unpleasant, like he hadn't found anything funny in years. He didn't know anyone in the room, and didn't address them yet. Wasn't his place. He narrowed his eyes, staring at them all. He took his seat back near the front of the room, where the briefing display was usually put up at the front of the screen.

In a few minutes, or at least, a little bit- one of the cadre from the SERE school would come out. The survival and escape part wasn't what worried Wedge. Something that they kept under lock and key was the method in which they taught people to resist Sith torture techniques. How would they simulate the effects of the force?

Or would they?

---

 

[Sarai Nova]

Project Fallback
20 Lightyears above Galactic Elliptic
Exiting Hyperspace
10 days prior

Sarai‘s fingers danced freely over the controls of the Y-Wing, and in response micro-jets of pressure slowly turned the heavily modified craft over as it dropped from hyperspace. Around her, a flotilla of private research ships also dropped from hyperspace and angled further up above the elliptic while her fighter craft moved on a ballistic course down. The research ships turned in formation over the course of several hours before flashing their lights and leaping back into hyperspace.

”See you in a few days.” Sarai told them, though her radio was powered off and there was no one else who could hear her, aside from the R5 unit behind her.

She turned her attention to the plot on her passive scanners. As the research ships moved around, they sent out a lot of various radiation at different sections of the electromagnetic spectrum. Her sensors were all off, her power reduced to the absolute bare minimum. She’d stay here for a few days, collect data, then the research flotilla would return, make a near exact spectacle, and fly out, with her back aboard one of them.

In the interim, she’d get to see first hand what, if anything was out here.

—————————
3 days prior​

Reconnaissance work wasn’t glamorous. You sat around, barely able to move your body, only slightly more able to move your ship (slowly, with microbursts of maneuvering jets), and watched the inky blackness of space out your cockpit windows or watch the slowly resolving picture of the system the Alliance isn’t supposed to be observing lightyears away. The fact that someone else was there when they weren’t supposed to be, building what was looking like something potentially massive, wouldn’t save her if the galaxy at large knew. She’d be the sacrificial lamb, gone rogue.

Which, in reality, was just extra incentive to not get noticed.

Exotic energy bled through the area as several ships lurched from hyperspace Around her. She was a few kilometers off the mark, a product of an unforeseen eddy in the nearby background gravity, but it didn’t take overly long for her to be overtaken by the ships. She used magnetic grapples to latch onto the underside of one of the ships, and was carried off.

A few hours later, she was back in hyperspace and it was safe to communicate.

”Nightjay to Paladin, how are you holding up?” Came the familiar voice of her CO.

”Nightjay, Paladin. Reporting 5x5, though I didn’t find any of the fast food joints you promised would be there. You owe me a bantha burger.” She replied. Despite her jovial words, she knew her exhaustion crept through her voice. Sleep was difficult on these missions, and the lack of diversions left little to engage the mind.

”Hold tight, Paladin. We’re going to be dropping out in the Janara system shortly. You’ve got new orders. You’ll have to collect your bantha burger another time.” Came the reply. She could tell that he wasn’t the happiest about the orders, but she refused to make assumptions.

Her computer came to life bearing the Galactic Alliance symbol, soon followed by the text of her orders. She read them through twice, anticipation and a mild sense of dread warring within her.

She got a spot on a combat squadron, which meant the recon flights would stop. That excited her.

The fact that they were rendezvousing on Janara III was worrisome.

She knew what went down on Janara III, and it wasn’t happy camping.

JANARA III
CORUSCANT TIME: 0400 HOURS​

Sarai felt like she might have caught up on sleep in the short number of days between when she received her orders and when she found her feet on the ground on Janara III. Her shuttle took off behind her as she approached a small group of people. She heard the one with the Lieutenant Commander rank insignia introduce himself.

’He looks entirely too pleasant…’ She thought to herself as she set her duffel down against a wall and moved to the growing group of pilots.

”Lieutenant Nova, reporting as ordered.” She offered with a salute as she got up to the Lieutenant Commander. Her eyes took in the others, none of whom she knew, but that wasn’t a surprise. She’d spent the last couple of years attached to naval intelligence doing recon drops, and few pilots made it out of that particular level of the underworld.

 

[Mylo Thorne]

​

JANARA III, INNER RIM
READY ROOM TWELVE

Mylo's eyes left the strange gaze of his Executive Officer as the members streamed into the amphitheatre-like ready room. The first was a human male, around his own age, perhaps slightly older with shaggy brown hair and a beard. He seemed chirpy enough and Mylo offered a simple nod, a small smile forming at the corner of his bearded mouth as he extended the courtesy to the rest of the members who began to fill up the room.

At the moment he turned slightly in his seat, his eye quickly caught the familiar twinkle of a brown-haired human female whom he immediately recognised. A wider grin emerged, perhaps slightly more sincere to the trained eye. Mylo returned a sharp salute to the woman with a simple nod being sufficient enough to portray his delight at the return at another one of the 'old guard'.

"Lieutenant Porte reporting as invited, Sir," Addy offered the Commander with a crisp salute, then gave a nod to the other two officers present. "I look forward to serving with you again," she added with a small smile.

"Welcome back Tinks, good to see you." He offered, returning his eyes to the door and subtly analysing the rest of the intake. A seemingly shy Sullustan who retreated to the corner of the room caught his eye first. Definitely a greener pilot. A thought wandered to his own initiation, a scrappy, acne-ridden sixteen year old with a chip on his shoulder and who was way in above his head. Mylo mentally chuckled, reminiscing on the death stare that Tren Chaar had sent him when he'd arrived for the first briefing ten minutes late. The Engineer who'd given him the wrong directions had thought it was hilarious. His CO certainly hadn't.

Another. A pink-hued Zeltron who seemed rather tense. Mylo greeted her with a kind smile, returning the salute and accepting the transfer orders, discreetly setting them off to the side as he'd made the decision to be done with paperwork for the day.

"Sir, Flight Officer Vazal Danty. Colonel Naldax has told me quite a bit about you. I'm excited to fly and learn under you."

"Ah, Colonel Naldax, I've not seen her for a while, if you do please send my sincerest regards. I'm excited to see what you can bring to the table, Flight Officer." The dark-haired pilot shook his head, remembering the commander of his previous unit, a pilot of unparalleled skill whom he'd idolised in his youth. It only seemed natural she was destined for higher command.

As the rest of the cohort filed in, Mylo raised himself from his seat, moving towards a small podium that sat at the front of the ready room. He observed Teravin Arosin , a seemingly loner-type who's species eluded him. Admittedly, it was the redacted sections of his file that had led Mylo to place him on the roster, perhaps out of a mixture of curiosity and interest in the skill of the being. Mylo'd get him squared away and a proper pilot soon enough, he pondered, continuing toward the podium.

Two more faces appeared, one rather familiar and whom he'd been anticipating greatly. Mylo offered a friendly slap on the back and a quick nod. "Welcome back Kelly, take a seat with everyone else." Then the last, not late, but straddling it. A human female who went straight to greet Wedge, Mylo catching the name Nova. He mentally stored it in the back of his mind as he hauled himself up onto the podium, in front of a small microphone. After waiting for everyone to get settled, he readied himself to open the proceedings.

A quick hit turned into a series of annoyed taps on the microphone. "Does this thing even work? Kark it, looks like I'm going a capella." He joked, clearing his throat. A voice, not booming but certainly amplified to reach the audience, that exuded clarity, with an even, calm tone spoke forth.

"Welcome everybody. I'm Commander Mylo Thorne. Some of you may know me, some of you may not. I'll be out of your hair in no time and then the Lieutenant Commander will brief you on the outline of your course here on Janara." Mylo's gaze scanned the room, not focusing on a single person at a time.

"Firstly, I just wanted to underline, that every single one of you here has something special, or you would not be sitting here, listening to me right now, regardless of where you came from, or your previous assignments. This is a squadron with a legacy, a storied history and tradition of service. Some of the best to ever do it served with Revenant Squadron, many I knew personally. And I intend to keep it that way. We are not other units. This is the cream of the crop, Starfighter Command's finest. And I am sure that you will all live up to that."

"Here you will be challenged. But also nurtured, and moulded to the best of your abilities.. and beyond. That I will make sure of." Mylo clicked a few buttons to turn on the projector, which lit up the wall behind him with a display of their unit organisation, ships, weaponry and all other miscellaneous information that may be useful.

"Don't hesitate to get all this down. Before I leave you to Lieutenant Commander Draav, some housekeeping. You will all be assigned a wingmate who you will room with. I make it an imperative that you get to know this person, take them to some caf in the mess, because this is the person who will be responsible for your life in that cockpit." He mentioned, adopting an ever so slightly sterner tone. Too many good pilots had been lost because their wingmate wasn't on the ball, and that was a mistake he'd vowed to correct.

His posture and expression softened as he began to disembark from the podium. "And before I go. Don't put too much pressure on yourselves. This a course designed to be difficult. I failed my first time." Mylo continued on his path, plopping himself down on a small chair near the podium, offering the floor to his new Executive Officer.


Wedge Draav Sarai Nova Su Rov Addison Porte Elijah Beckett Kelly T. Perris Teravin Arosin Ari Naldax

 

[Addison Porte]

EXPLORATION
JANARA III, INNER RIM
Reformation of Revenant Squadron

Mylo Thorne | Wedge Draav | Elijah Beckett | Kelly T. Perris
Su Rov | Teravin Arosin | Sarai Nova | Ari Naldax
​

"Welcome back Tinks, good to see you."

"It's good to be back, sir," Addy answered with an affirming cant of her dark head, then the brunette followed the Commander's eyes over to the entrance to the ready room... though she already knew who was coming.

Addison had sensed the Corelllan's presence the moment he arrived planetside just a few minutes behind her as Kelly's desirable aura had been imprinted into her memory from their previous service together. The Jedi quickly tamped down on the emotions he elicited which were a mix of excitement of seeing the young man again and much relief to know he'd made it through the war seemingly unscathed. Time would tell though if that was truly the case. For all of them really.

"Huh," Kelly sounded, then looked to Mylo, and snapped him a quick salute, "Captain Perris - good to be serving with you again, sir," he quipped, and thereafter, he turned his gaze to Addison; nothing short of thankful for a second familiar face, a corner of his mouth pulled up, "and you, Tinks."

"Likewise, Kels... Though it seems this time I'll be serving under you. Congrats on your captain bars," she replied flashing the sandy blonde a lopsided grin with a subtle teasing twinkle etched in her hazel browns orbs, then the Taanabian moved away as more pilots were arriving to report for duty.

Before taking a seat in the second row, Addison acknowledged the other pilots further back with a friendly nod. It seemed so far they were split into the haves and the have-nots... Hopefully, the squadron would jive sooner than later as one prime fighting unit after the highly anticipated training and socializing no doubt. Pfft, fighter jockeys, remember?!

Course, that was if the chosen pilots invited there passed the test ahead that the CO mentioned in his opening statement before turning over the floor to his XO.

Force be with us.

​

 

[Vashja Io]

Janara III - present day​

Mylo Thorne Addison Porte Wedge Draav Elijah Beckett Kelly T. Perris Su Rov Teravin Arosin Sarai Nova Ari Naldax

Vashja watched through the canopy of her X-Wing as it approached the docking, the human replicant droid had been send an anonymous invitation to join a particularly noted squadron within the Alliance, clearly, for all the hatred directed to who she used to be, someone valued who she was now and had seen something in her. She banked the ship onto final approach and saw the looming school in front of her. This should be fun, the training standards here were exemplary and the reputation for really pushing the pilots got the newly promoted flight officer quite excited.

Ahead she saw the telltale colours of Alliance ground crew and she came in to land, cutting her engines and opening the cockpit. She took a few seconds to acclimatise herself to the planet's magnetic field and gravity before hopping out of the craft and on to the deck where the crews greeted. "FO Io" A man with a holoboard called to her and she turned towards him. "That's me, reporting for training duties."

"Not to me you aren't... ID.... thank you... down the corridor, third on the left" he abruptly put, checking the ID on her orange skinsuit before walking away without so much as a warm welcome to Janara. Vashja didn't care, she was used to the cold shoulder. So she headed down the corridor quickly. She was the last to arrive as far as she could tell, only moments before the scheduled start time. A few eyes turned to her but they were more focused on the senior officer already on the podium and ready to begin.

She watched as Mylo Thorne began to outline what they would face today. SERE training would be fun, her combat capabilities made her probably better suited than most to evade capture. But these courses were as much for bonding as anything, trust was a powerful tool and she knew she needed to build it with this squadron for her and others to operate at peak efficiency. Right now all the other pilots would know is her name but as the progeny of Laertia Io , that particular part of her persona held some significant baggage. From her seat on the back row she returned the friendly nod to Addison Porte but would otherwise have to wait for more interaction.

She was very curious who her new Wingrave might be. ​

 

[Teravin Arosin]

Teravin sat quietly as he watched the various pilots greet eachother and introduce themselves to their commanders. Was that a thing he should have done? Too late to amend that mistake. Rather, he simply continued to keep to himself as the commander gave his rundown on what he could expect with this new bunch. Apparently, he'd stumbled into something of a well known unit. The way this captain made it sound, he was in whatever the Galactic Alliance called their version of the Royal Aviators. 'Best not kark it up,' he thought to himself.

Of course, then came the revelation that they would be bunking with their wingmates. It wasn't a bad arrangement. In fact, it seemed a bit kinder than his bunks in the Militia where one expected to sleep with their entire squadron. All he could hope for was that whoever it was, they didn't snore. And didn't shoot him for the occasional sleep talking his friends back home had informed him of.

"And before I go. Don't put too much pressure on yourselves. This a course designed to be difficult. I failed my first time."

"Easy for you to say," the zorren whispered to himself, "You aren't representing an entire planet." At least he hadn't yet heard any reason to be nervous, besides the vague difficulty of the course. but the XO hadn't yet stepped in to tell them what fresh hell awaited them on this apparently infamous planet. With that in mind, the old soldier hung on every word to come.

Wedge Draav Sarai Nova Su Rov Addison Porte Elijah Beckett Kelly T. Perris Ari Naldax Mylo Thorne Vashja Io

 

[Kyle Torchwood]

SEVENTY TWO HOURS AGO​

…::incoming transmission::...

…::incoming transmission::...

…::incoming transmission::...

Kyle grabbed his head. It was pounding and the infernal chirping of his datapad was not helping the hangover. Oh that was the last time he tried to drink a wookiee under the table. Well… knowing Torch, it was not, but in the moment it was certainly a pressing thought.

“Stop….”

The groan left his mouth as he picked up the device and began to read the message.

An invitation?

How did anyone get his personal comm, and why in the world did they think he was worth joining some elite fighter squadron. He missed flying, sure, but for the Galactic Alliance? Was there even a war worth employing a selective unit like this? Torch knew it had been quiet for too long. His pockets did not have the credits for it to be a time of war, and yet the quiet usually meant a storm was coming.

“Caf… I’m gonna need a lot of caf…”

Janara III
PRESENT DAY​

He was late. There was no avoiding that reality. It was likely the others had left without him, or at the very least, were about to. Torch could not believe he was falling behind on his last day, but the pilot had been out of work for so long that navigating whatever the Galactic Alliance used was like walking through a stadium. Sure, Torch had hopped around from one place to the next, but Ready Room 12 of how many, and Force only knew if he could actually decipher the maze of it all.

Someone took pity on him at least when they saw the invitation and pointed him in the right direction. Everything he owned was in a duffle which the young pilot hauled over his shoulder. The clothes on his back, boots on his feet, and the lightsaber hanging from his belt, were the only other items which were an exception. He clung to the shadows as he attempted to slide into the briefing without being noticed too much, but he knew better than to think that would succeed.

He heard the name Perris.

A brow quirked as he looked, hoping to find his childhood best friend. Rik was not among them.

“Hmmm”

There was no reason to introduce himself he supposed. Rather than fly in loud and reckless as he normally would, the pilot opted to remain quiet for the time being. This did not seem to be a good time to draw too much attention to himself anyway.

So what was it they were there for?

Torch had definitely missed the opening part of the briefing.

Wedge Draav | Sarai Nova | Su Rov | Addison Porte | Elijah Beckett | Kelly T. Perris | Ari Naldax | Mylo Thorne | Vashja Io | Teravin Arosin

 

[Su Rov]

Tag: Wedge Draav Sarai Nova Teravin Arosin Mylo Thorne Addison Porte Kelly T. Perris Ari Naldax Vashja Io Kyle Torchwood Elijah Beckett

Su had to resist the urge to whistle. Wow this is becoming a full Squadron. The Sullustan thought now having taken a seat at the far corner. Tin faithfully stood by his pilot. As more people showed up the more Su gave polite nods in greeting whenever the newcomer looked in her direction.

Already she wished to have her datapad to write notes but she suspected from past experience that would be frowned upon. She didn't want to be booted out simply for not paying attention in some briefing. Indeed best not to take that chance. Of course the nervousness threatened to show as she gripped her hands together to keep herself tapping them when in this state.

She was too excited and nervous to socialize so she tried to play it cool and not get in the way.

Stars preserve me and I still can't believe this is happening. Well I hadn't passed anything yet.

It was then that Mylo Thorne officially began the proceedings. Arms folded together Su listened with as much attention as possible. It was when the commander spoke on each of them being special, causing Su to blink her dark mouse-like eyes.

Special…

Her parents said as much when growing up. Of course that's what loving parents say in one form or another to their kids. Yet Mylo's use of the phrase was different but nonetheless meaningful. Since leaving home life had not been easy for her to put it mildly but indeed Su had proven time and again to herself that she is a great pilot.

Her shy like demeanor shifted into something more determined than before.

Be the best of the best. I always wanted that!

She had lost and sacrificed so much to get to this point. Revenant Squadron was the place to make her dream as a pilot a reality. Even when it means risking her life.

Su nodded as the projector displayed what their unit will be like, items and other factors.

"Wow." She softly whispered to herself.

It was when Commander Thorne brought up room arrangements among wigmans. Su's stomach kinda turned when it was emphasized about getting to know each other. Well she was willing to learn about a wingman and develop teamwork to survive and succeed but the thought of her own past being brought up…very awkward.

Of course being wingmans doesn't mean knowing every single detail about your partner right? I'll figure something out hopefully.

Fortunately the subject changed to the training course. The word difficult is a galactic understatement from what rumors she heard about Janara III's courses. Yet was actually deep down something Su was anticipating. To actually test herself instead of those simulations all the time. Much more preferable than thinking about her future wingman learning all about her past.

 

[Wedge Draav]

JANARA III
CORUSCANT TIME: 0400 HOURS

Bad memories.

​

A few latecomers.

He narrowed his eyes at them. They were after all, "puckish rogues" and "ne'er-do-wells" according to their files. Though he did harshly stare at the Droid- Revenant Four. He didn't like Droids. That was common knowledge- after all, a significant event in his life had made him hate them so.

The Droid being here wasn't obviously Wedge's choice.

Wedge crossed his arms, remaining in his position for a while, before silence took over the room. He looked over at the Commander, giving him a curt nod before speaking.

"Now that everyone is here. I'll make this brief. I'm your Executive Officer. My name is Lieutenant Commander Wedge Draav. If you have any pay or logistical issues, please see me. I know switching units can be a bit hard on your paychecks. You should also all be receiving a bonus, please make sure you get with me if you don't receive it in your next paycheck."

Wedge nervously kept eyeing the door.

And then, it came in. It, of course being- Master Sergeant Gandek Bral.

Master Sergeant Bral composed the room like the aura of death himself. He wore the badge of not only the Alliance Marines, but the Antarian Rangers, Task Force Raider- and the most recent, the Pathfinders. It would seem that he was one of the few that did not follow Tulan Kor to the arms of the Empire, and the subsequent razing of the Sith under their banner.

He stuck to his guns. Something to be said about that.

"Good afternoon, everyone. My name is Master Sergeant Gandek Bral. In the next few weeks, you will be undergoing a series of classroom and practical training scenarios designed to test you physically and mentally. I will remind you that you will be tortured, or subjected to, or exposed to methods of torture that we have knowledge of. The Sith are masters of manipulation, and being pilots, you need to be extremely aware of your surroundings. That also means you have more knowledge than the average grunt."

He clasped his hands behind his back, walking through the room, over each person, leering like a hawk. It was unnerving, to say the least.

"They will lie, coerce, and manipulate you. And to my knowledge, there is only one of you that has survived a shootdown in-atmosphere in this room."

Wedge tensed up, shifting nervously.

"Your first period of instruction will be a series of lessons on edible fauna, and where to reliably source information on local fauna. The galaxy is too vast to list every single edible fauna, but we will provide you the resources to research it yourself. You should be familiar with your area of operations, and if necessary, survive in them. Hunger and thirst will be the norm for the next few weeks- let go of the idea of comfort."

He turned towards the Commander, handing him a list. On a piece of paper, at that. Old-school. Something Tulan and the Rangers usually did. The Cadre and the Schoolhouse picked the teams. It wasn't up to Rogue how they were going to go about it. Nobody at the schoolhouse had a say like that.

Because in reality, you didn't when things went wrong either.

Old habits died hard.

"Your unit will be split into two-man elements for the coming exercise in two days. They'll be dropped into a hostile environment, and have to maneuver seven kilometers to a rendezvous while avoiding capture. If you avoid capture, the exercise ends and you get to wait. If you don't- you will be subjected to torture and interrogation."

The List:

Spoiler

Su Rov and Vashja Io.... and Elijah Beckett .

Teravin Arosin and Kelly T. Perris

Mylo Thorne and Ari Naldax

Kyle Torchwood and Sarai Nova

Addison Porte and Wedge Draav

OOC Note:

The exercise will be story-driven between you and the partner. DM me if you'd like your partner to evade capture, or to be part of the captured team. All of the characters will be getting the interrogation resistance training after the exercise regardless if they were captured or not. If you get captured early, you're subjected to it early, is all. And then some.

Wedge watched as the Master Sergeant left, and steeled himself, his eyes meeting his feet for a moment, before looking up at the Commander. "We have classes beginning soon- after that it's the exercise." He turned to face the crowd.

"Good luck. Don't quit."

Unlike most Alliance members, he didn't follow it up with the usual and may the Force be with you. Wedge didn't stick around for conversation- he made his way, picking up his caf container on the way out. He made his way to the bathroom, locking the door behind him, setting his caf container on the counter. He stared at himself in the mirror, fighting back the heartbeat he could hear in his ears. He ran water over his face, collecting himself.

He walked out, near the classroom where they'd begin their survival training taught by the Pathfinder Instructors there for the next few days... followed by the brutal Janara-Three Slog. He crossed his arms, staring down at the ground. Without meaning to, he touched his scars.


OOC:

For the sake of brevity, after this post, everyone will have undergone the survival classroom instruction and will be getting prepped for the brutal Janara Three Slog. Your character and your teammate(s) will be waiting for a speeder to come and drop them off at their respective "crash sites". They will have only a survival bag and their flight gear- nothing more, and nothing less. All lethal items have been replaced with non-lethal equivalents (save for edged weapons), and each member is equipped with a signal GPS embedded in their flightsuit, solely used by the Pathfinders to make sure they're safe during the exercise and can be rescued in case of an emergency.

Don't quit.

---

 

[Elijah Beckett]

Janara III
​

Elijah remained silent after his introduction, opting to observe anyone else who came through the doors. The first after him was Addison Porte , who right off the bat gave the impression of experience. She was certainly no rookie, walking with confidence in her step as moved towards them. Already dressed in a flight suit, with a Revenant Squadron patch on it already. It confused Elijah for a moment, until he remembered there were going to be a few return pilots from the previous squadron. There was of course no missing the lightsaber that was hanging from her hips.

That’s interesting, so we’ve got a Jedi in our squadron.

Next to arrive was a female Sullustan, Su Rov . Who appeared the opposite to Addison. Where the latter had shown confidence, Su’s anxiousness was evident to see, despite her best efforts to hide it. Elijah smiled slightly, witnessing the bond between Su and her astromech. He was curious to see what made her tick, after she wouldn’t be here if the higher ups hadn’t seen something in her.

Another human by the name of Ari Naldax followed after Su. She was clearly excited to dive into whatever tests and trials the group were going to be thrown into. But Elijah had a feeling that there was still some anxiousness beneath the surface. Hell, he imagined there was to a degree of it in everyone present. Janara III had a reputation after all.

Elijah just blinked at who walked in after Vazal. While the Beckett family was fairly large, Elijah was certain he wouldn’t have suddenly forgotten a twin brother, or at the least a younger brother that somehow looked like a mirror image. And yet…there were some oddities about the man. Namely the golden eyes that helped Teravin Arosin stand out. They were unique, and Elijah made a mental note to look into it more.

Kelly T. Perris was the next to arrive, a young blonde haired Human, who looked just barely into his twenties. The moment he opened his mouth, Elijah caught that ever familiar Corellian accent. What was curious however, was his familiarity with Mylo and Addison, another member of the previous Revenant Squadron?

The second to last to arrive was Sarai Nova . Who seemed to have the same energy as pretty much everyone else present. Excitement, eager to see what this opportunity had in store, but held a certain amount of trepidation due to the planet’s reputation. Despite all the potential differences between everyone, that seemed to be a shared thought.

Vashja Io was the last to arrive, and she got a raised eyebrow from Elijah. From afar initially, she appeared to just look like another human pilot. But after getting a bit closer, and pausing to listen to Mylo’s speech, Elijah couldn’t help shake the feeling something was off. As if Vashja’s appearance had more to it than meets the eye.

Elijah chuckled quietly to himself, settling his attention forwards as he listened to Mylo Thorne speak, followed by Wedge Draav . He spared a quick glance over to Kyle Torchwood as the latecomer made his quiet entrance.

Yeah, this is going to become very interesting indeed.

Later, after the Survival Instruction Course…

Tags: Su Rov | Vashja Io​

The class had been pretty much what Elijah had expected, and as Wedge had accurately detailed in his explanation. It hadn’t been the first time he had to learn about surviving off local fauna, but it was always a good idea to take a refresher course. Not to mention, there were no doubt specifics located on Janara III. Although, Elijah wondered if some of it had been bio-engineered specifically for training elite pilots

Elijah crossed his arms as he waited, standing with his two partners. It seemed due to the odd number of them, there had to at least be one team of three. And it appeared he was placed in it, along with Su and Vashja.

“So, how are you both feeling?”

​

 

[Vashja Io]

Janara III - present day​

Mylo Thorne Addison Porte Wedge Draav Kelly T. Perris Teravin Arosin Sarai Nova Ari Naldax

Direct: Su Rov Elijah Beckett

The meeting was over quite quickly, Vashja could not be certain, but she had a feeling from the eye that she caught that even the XO was reluctant to have her here. The the droid it was just further motive to get this done and integrate herself properly into the squadron.

The mission itself did not sound too arduous seven kilometres, what is that, a two hour walk? This absolutely meant there would be some nasty surprises for them along the way. House Io HRDs do not eat, so training on identifying edible and safe flora and fauna was not part of her programming, nor her subsequent flight training. It was quite fascinating for her to learn an entirely new topic, and one that could certainly come up whilst squadroned with organics.

A speeder was coming to take the three of them to their simulated crash site. Vashja walked over to the waiting Elijah Beckett and Su Rov .

“So, how are you both feeling?”

"Excited to get started, I've not done this kind of training before, where I come from it doesn't come up much. Vashja Io..." She held out her hand to shake that of Elijah then Su. "Where have you both flown before? I've been posted in the core fleet so far." she offered.

The speeder due to take them was now arriving, so they would have to embark but they could continue their introductions on the journey. Vashja would make one last check of her survival bag including the kukri she had selected as her single edged tool.

​

 

[Sarai Nova]

​

JANARA III
​

"Good luck. Don't quit."

‘Can’t quit, there’s nowhere else to go.’ Sarai thought to herself wryly. Outwardly she gave a simple nod and turned to review the list of pairings. Her eyes were drawn to the list of names for a moment, before she realized for a second time that she couldn’t put a face to any of the squadron except for the CO and XO.

She shifted to the faces beside the names, then looked up and around the room, zeroing in on Kyle Torchwood . She moved over to the pilot and offered a slight smile and a nod.

”Torchwood, I’m Nova. Call sign Paladin. Good to meet you.”

— — — —
Present Day​

Sarai had been sorely tempted to choose her sword as her edged tool, though common sense won out over the desire to stand out in a meaningless way. As a weapon of war, the sword was an excellent tool. For almost any other use the sword was a poor substitute. Instead she chose a hatchet, which was currently strapped to the side of her survival pack.

”I’m feeling ready for life to suck for a while, are you ready for life to suck for a while?” She asked, turning to Kyle with a lopsided smile. The prospect of being actively tortured on top of the intense SERE testing was not one anyone would look forward to, outside of some really specific communities.

The way she saw it, you could look forward to it with dread, or attack the dread with misplaced humor.

She’d choose humor over dread any day.

Mylo Thorne | Wedge Draav | Su Rov | Elijah Beckett | Vashja Io | Addison Porte | Kelly T. Perris | Teravin Arosin | Ari Naldax​