Quality along with Quantity

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Commander's Office, 100th Fighter Squadron
First Order Starfighter Garrison, Dosuun

Captain Roderik von Brinkerhoff studied a data-file being presented through his monitor terminal, while idly sitting behind the desk of his still-sparsely decorated, new office. The file contained continuously updated duty rosters, those who had been or were in the process of being transferred to the 100th Fighter Squadron, the First Order's newest addition to the Starfighter Corps.

The vast majority of names meant nothing to Roderik -- not yet, at least. He would rectify that as soon as he could, however. But in his bid to gain this assignment he had put in the names of a few choice pilots from among the TIE Fighter pilots he had served with and flown with in the past. Most of these names submitted without their knowledge, or perhaps express approval in at least one instance.

They didn't need to know that fact, Roderik thought.

But one name popped up and caused a grin to form on his lips. [member="Nils Brenner"]

"I'm surprised that trick worked." He wasn't quite sure that the impromptu R&R request he had discretely routed for Lieutenant Brenner's squadron had gone through. But it did, and now Roderik felt more like a secret spy, weaving a wicked web to get his way. It was not an entirely terrible feeling, he thought. At least when it worked for the ones who would want the opportunity he was offering.

At the same time he was internally celebrating his own child-like hubris, he was writing out a communique to the young Lieutenant, inviting him to visit his new office. Ostensibly, to catch up on old times. Perhaps a year had passed since the two had served together. And with Roderik orchestrating Nils' unexpected arrival to Avalonia, it was time for the Ace Lieutenant found out what his old lead pilot was doing.

 

[Progflaw99]

Dosuun, First Order Starfighter Garrison
100th Fighter Group, Staff Offices​

-----o-----o-----o-----​

♪​

The sound of music played lightly in the man's helmet, the soft notes causing the start of a grin on his face. The wind battered his uniform as he sped across the temperate landscape of Dosuun. Aside from the occasional homestead this area of the planet was mostly undeveloped, its natural beauty one of his favorite things about the planet. As he sped closer to the Capital, Avalonia, the scenery slowly began to change, buildings cropping up more and more frequently until he was surrounded by the bustle of the city. He slowed as he entered the more urban area, turning down a main concourse until he reached the First Order Starfighter Garrison. He'd been in these offices more than once for "Disciplinary" reasons. Now however he had a different reason for visiting the Staff Offices.

Two days ago he'd been enjoying a bit of R&R out in the mountains of Dosuun, enjoying a few days of skiing and just relaxing in some of the more lucrative chalets. The R&R had come as a bit of a surprise for both Nils and the rest of his squadron. There'd been suspicion at first that there was something in the works and they were trying to butter them up for some special mission or particularly dangerous task but that quickly faded as the pilots were treated to only the best Avalonian Ale in the Chalets surrounding the ski resort. It was while Nils was there, relaxing that he received a communication from an old friend of his, Roderik Brinkerhoff. They'd flown together for about a year before their paths took different directions, eventually both of them ending up in different squadrons.

Nils brought his speeder bike to a slow, slipping into a small speeder bike storage lot. He flashed his ID badge at the attendant, as if his uniform wasn't evidence enough. As he disengaged the engines he reached up with his gloved hand, unclasping the helmet he wore before removing it and setting it down on the seat in front of him. He was a handsome man, his youthful appearance not simply a result of good genetics but due to his young age. He reached down, placing a small cloth cap on top of his head. Swinging his leg over the bike, he set his feet on the ground and sat there for a moment as he let the adrenaline rush of his journey wear off before rising. He slipped the leather gloves from his hands, tucking them in his leather jacket pocket, his hands following. It was a brisk morning and he'd made it in before the usual hubbub of the day to day grind got into full swing.

The Squadron had been returning from a training exercise in deep space when they'd gotten the summons to Dosuun. They'd been ordered to port for a refitting, something about re-arming and resupply. Nils' squadron of course had been released for a week of R&R on the surface, their carrier ship now docked in the docks above the planet. He grinned as his footsteps carried him down the street towards the main entrance to the staff building, two enlisted guards standing watch, saluting as he walked in. He smirked, returning the salute and removing his hat as he entered the high archway. The domed rotunda atop the building had been constructed with an elegance rivaling that of the buildings closer to the capitol building itself though the office spaces were somewhat outdated, some of the floors still sporting wooden floors. Various spaces inside were under construction, aides and staff bustling through the halls.

Purposefully he strode through the building, he knew where the office would be. It had been one of the lower staff offices the last time he'd been here but by the looks of it that wing had been refitted and re-decorated, images of TIE fighters and emblems of the First Order found on almost every wall surface. He shook his head as he tucked the cloth hat he had been carrying into his his other pocket, a short bit hanging out. As he finished walking down one of the halls he turned left. There it was, a temporary sign had been erected next to the door frame. The door was closed, but he could see a figure inside through the frosted glass pane on the door. Taking a deep breath, he puffed up his chest slightly and knocked firmly three times on the wooden door. It rattled slightly as if it hadn't quite been fitted properly.

He would wait for permission to enter, as any good officer would. He knew he didn't have to, they were old friends afterall but old habits died hard.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Captain Roderik von Brinkerhoff was in the process of filing an acquisitions request to High Command when the three knocks came. Instantly, he minimized the task from his terminal monitor and switched to a real-time security video clip, displaying the hallway outside the office.

He knew right away who stood outside, despite the uniform and fuzzy image quality. Senior Lieutenant [member="Nils Brenner"] was another of the squadron commander's old flying partners, and perhaps the only one who Roderik considered an equal, if not superior, combat flyer. He would never, of course, admit this fact to Nils.

"Come in. And no salutes, Brenner, you're on leave." Roderik stood from behind his desk and began to step around it, in order to meet the Lieutenant with a handshake as he entered the office.

 

[Progflaw99]

Nils grinned, his boyish features evident as he stepped into the office, sliding the door shut behind him gently. He took one glance at Roderik as he approached. He looked good, maybe a little on the thin side but good. He noticed a subtle weariness around his eyes, as if he's spent the night either up late or maybe he'd even slept in his office the night before. All his thoughts went out the window as Roderik offered him his hand. Grinning all the wider, Nils grasped his former mentor's hand firmly, pulling the man in close and wrapping him up in a brotherly hug, all sense of decorum gone.

"Roderik you old man! How are things? You're looking well!" He chuckled.

Taking a half step back he released his grasp and appraised him once more. A promotion? He admired the man's new badge of rank! He himself had gotten one promotion since they'd parted ways but boy! Roderik seemed to be doing well for himself! He was genuinely happy for the man, to him they were almost like brothers, despite the time apart. Nils grinned at the man.

"I have something for ya, Commander" He said, stressing the man's rank.

As he did so, he reached into his leather jacket, pulling out a small silver flask from his inner breast pocket. Offering it to the man, he unscrewed the lid slightly so the man could take a whiff. Nils had been on a routine patrol near Dead Nebula when they'd detected a merchant vessel under attack by pirates. They'd managed to scramble their fighters and take down the rag tag pirate band and the grateful merchants had offered their 'saviors' two crates of some of the finest Corellian Brandy in the sector. Naturally once Nils got wind of this, one of the crates ended up a bottle short, though there was no manifest to check it against. He grinned as the smell of the brandy rose from the flask.

"Here, it's yours. I've got others just like it." He winked at Roderik. "So really, what does the First Order have you doing back groundside? I never figured you'd agree to sit behind a desk, knees getting bad ol' man?" He grinned again, a playful glint in his eyes.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik could not help but grin in return, at the younger officer. [member="Nils Brenner"] had the kind of spirit that empowered those around him with exuberance. It had helped boost morale in every squadron, group, and wing, that Nils had been assigned to.

Which is exactly why Roderik wanted him for the 100th.

"Feeling well," he began after his handshake was met in return by the kind of hug only a bloodied compatriot-in-arms could fully understand.

The Captain studied the offered flask, even went so far as to sniff the contents - the aroma of which was unmistakably high-quality brandy. While he took in the strength of the liquor's smell his smile broadened considerably, his own military discipline being considerably tested.

"You would be impressed with how well my own supply is these days," He said, concluding the offer by waving off the offered flask, but offering another option while he swung back around, heading behind his desk to take a seat with a wholly casual posture.

"I think I might know someone who could use that a little more than myself right now, actually. If you're interested in a little bit of story time." he offered to elaborate.

 

[Progflaw99]

He grinned as his old friend mentioned 'his own supply'. If he was any good at guessing, the man had made friends with a supply officer somewhere, the roguish devil. He nodded as he screwed the lid back on and replaced the flask where he'd retrieved it from. Without skipping a beat, Nils slipped into the chair in front of the desk, his ears perking up at the offer of a story. A sneaking suspicion had begun creeping its way into his head, it seemed awfully convenient, R&R, Roderik being assigned to a desk job here at staff headquarters. Now with Roderik about to tell a story... He kept his mouth shut though, genuinely interested in what he was about to hear.

"I've got all the time in the world old friend, seems someone up there is looking out for me, now that you can't from behind your desk." He gave the man a playful tease. "I've got about half a week left of R&R according to the duty roster, the entire squadron wouldn't you know."

He narrowed his eyes slightly. He wondered if Brinkerhoff had something to do with that. Not that it mattered either way, but he knew the his friend was up to something. He leaned back in the chair, relaxing as he waited to hear the story Roderik was about to tell.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

"Lets just say I split my time between a desk, and the cockpit. Maybe not as much time in a TIE as I'd like these days, but, still enough - and," The captain's grin intensified as he continued, "lets also say the desk is somewhat, well, impressive."

Roderik was at this time unaware that by clerical error his newly appointed staff had scheduled simultaneous appointments, for both Lieutenant's [member="Greta Kohler"] and [member="Ishana Pavanos"], to report in for the squadron. Both had been hand-picked to lead sections of the 100th Fighter Squadron, similarly to [member="Nils Brenner"]. Both would be arriving any moment now. Only, they were aware of their assignment to the new unit, unlike Lieutenant Brenner, who still needed to be clued into the truth.

"How is that squadron working out for you? Exciting jobs, or, are you ready to move onto something new? Something maybe a little more unique?"

Roderik also mentally took note that he was going to have to do something about all of the pilots and their flasks, in the immediate future. It was only a matter of time before one of them got caught holding one in uniform by the Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"], or worse, by [member="Sioux Chambers"].

The thought of reprimanding his pilots for the time honored tradition of keeping a flask at hand, itself, was disturbing to Roderik. What was he becoming?

 

[Progflaw99]

As the older man asked about how things were going, his normally upbeat and chipper grin slowly faded. His eyes looked up and to the right as he tried to put words to his feelings. It wasn't that he disliked his squadron, but it had its pitfalls. The brass had gotten complacent, at least in Nils' eyes. Complacency was the number one reason pilots got shot down or became casualties... well, that and forgetting to pray to the gods of space. He smirked at that thought. He didn't really think there were gods, at least not conventionally, but he performed the same ritual before every flight nonetheless. He looked back to Roderik with a sigh.

"It's not bad." He stifled a wince. Truth be told... it was pretty bad. "Brass has a perpetual stick up their rear, but..." He looked around for a moment, a slight sense of paranoia lighting itself on his shoulders. He lowered his voice carefully. "This is off the record... right?"

He didn't have to ask, truly, but who knew what Roderik had gotten into over the last year. He'd seen it happen before. One day, a pilot would be smoking and joking with the rest of them, the next day FOSB would be escorting them out, never to be heard from again. One didn't simply bad mouth the State and get away with it. To show any sort of anti-nationalism was to tempt fates, Nils tempted the fates enough in the cockpit, he didn't need the extra attention outside of it.

"They've gotten complacent. I've done my best to keep the new joins up to date on tactics and their piloting skills but it's rough when I can't get the support from the brass."

He shook his head. He had a bright outlook for his squadron, but if the brass didn't get the message they sure would if they ever were called on for combat.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik nodded reassuringly to [member="Nils Brenner"], "Entirely off the record, of course." His own expression sharpened a bit as he listened to what the Lieutenant had to say in regards to command.

The truth was that command was getting more complacent, and the problem was coming from the top. The current General of the Starfighters, whom many pilots in the Starfighter Corps refused to even mention by name, was an older, incompetent man - who had inherited his rank from back room dealings and a series of disastrous strategic blunders that he was miraculously able to blame on subordinates.

Things were going to be different in the 100th Fighter Squadron, however. Pilots were going to be awarded a certain level of respect, commensurate to the prestige of being in the Grand Moff's personal starfighter detachment. Beyond respect, the pilots soon to be serving under Captain Brinkerhoff were going to be awarded something far greater: the best equipment, and the best training, available to the First Order.

Roderik wished for them to be the shining example to which all future TIE Fighter squadrons were measured.

But it all started with the pilots who flew in it.

"How attached to the boys in the squadron are you?" He thought the younger Lieutenant was the spitting image of himself at that rank, and level of seasoned flying. Roderik was sure he was quietly mentoring the people who flew under his Flight, back wherever they were stationed.

"Could you cut the ties and change assignments?" His look grew more serious still.

 

[Progflaw99]

Nils thought about the question for a moment. Attached. Usually when someone asked you how attached you were to something, you were either about to lose it or you were going to be offered a change. As if to cement his immediate suspicion, Roderik had followed up with another question, driving deeper. Nils raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and bringing his hand to his chin in a fist. He had been doing what he could for his squadron, teaching the newbies as best he could but as he'd expressed, the higher ups seemed to undermine him at every turn, reinforcing bad habits. The truth was... he was getting pushed out. He'd noticed it months ago, the only reason they hadn't gotten rid of him is because he was a capable pilot.

"Well... If you're suggesting at other opportunities, I can't truthfully say I'd be disinterested. Though my command might be resistant to the idea. The only reason they haven't pawned me off on another squadron is because of my piloting skills."

He noticed a change in the man's demeanor, a serious tone had crept into his voice with the last question. It made him wonder what the sly fox had up his sleeve. Roderik had always been one to play it close to the chest, but he was always honest with him. Nils knew he could count on the Captain with no reservations.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Roderik could not help but flash a brief smile at [member="Nils Brenner"] mentioning his squadron leadership being reluctant to part ways with the younger pilot.

"I would not worry too much about it. In fact, I can make you two deals, two offers, right now." The smile returned in full force now, as Roderik prepared to drop the news to the Lieutenant.

"One. I can offer you a reassignment you won't regret - and I use offer lightly, here, Nils, and, two. I can promise you it will be going fully over the head of whatever nerf herder you have of a squadron leader right now. They'll hate it, I guarantee."

The captain leaned back in his chair and looked clearly at Nils. He still had the look of joy and good humor on his face, but it was also couched with professional seriousness. The expression he often took on before missions.

"The squadron is going to be tough. Hardest unit you'll ever be assigned to, bar none. But. I'll be your commander."

 

[Progflaw99]

His ears perked at the mention of an offer, Nils' eyes meeting the Captain's. As Roderik spoke, his mind drifted slightly. The opportunity to stick it to his command by securing a re-assignment was tempting, Nils didn't hide the fact that he was less than impressed with is current command. It wasn't that he particularly hated them, but he'd gotten his fair share of flak for standing up to them in the past on issues that he didn't see as trivial as they. He adjusted his posture, sitting up straighter at the prospect of a change.

"You've got me there." Nils said, letting Roderik continue.

As he spoke towards the toughness of the unit, his eyes gleamed. That was one of the other complaints he'd had with his last squadron... there was no challenge. Nothing new on the horizon, nothing to be done. The prospect of a challenge excited him and the corners of his mouth rose into a bright boyish grin. If it was possible, his grin widened further as Roderik finished his pitch. Roderik as his commander? The man had likely changed a bit since they last worked together, but he knew he could trust him with his life. It wouldn't be the first time. Nils took a moment to just let it wash over him, the situation, offer and all. It wasn't that he was unsure, but he was just blown away.

"Sign me up! I would be honored to serve under you friend!"

Nils playfully sat forward in his seat, reaching across the desk and gave Roderik a solid swat on the arm. He couldn't wait to see the looks on his command's faces when they got the transfer orders.

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]​

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

The lieutenant's new commander let out a quick laugh in response to the swat on the arm, and [member="Nils Brenner"]'s all-round reaction to the news.

Unfortunately for Nils, he would never get the opportunity to see his previous commander's face, or that of any of the other top brass at whatever squadron.

"That's the trick, my man. You're already signed up." His smile returned, and intensified.

"The thing about this squadron is that we have all the top brass coverage we could ever want. You didn't really have a say in the matter, because all of my recommendations were approved straight away. No second guessing, no, well, no waiting around to ask about feelings. I didn't expect it all to happen so quickly, but,"

He offered up a cheerfully exaggerated shrug before adding, "what do you expect when you're the Grand Moff's personal squadron?"

Roderik let the title sink in for a second so Nils could understand the gravity of what he had just become a part of.

"All of your personal effects are being transferred as we speak, I hope you didn't have any hidden contraband in your locker."

He paused again, trying to put the next part a little more delicately. He didn't know what the lieutenant had on his itinerary while on leave, but he would have to put his plans aside for the time being.

"Also, I'm sorry about this and I'll figure a way to make it up, but, I'm going to need you reporting for duty in, say, 24 hours. Give yourself a day to relax and reschedule anything you need to. You're going to be leading up third flight, and I could really use you here as soon as possible."

The captain knew that if Nils was anything like himself, which he was in quite a few ways, that the Lieutenant would much rather be spinning up with his new squadron in the hangar bay anyways. Or at least that would be tied with skiing atop Dosuun's scenic mountains.