Faction Starlight, Starfight [Open to Jedi Pilots]

[Maynard Treicolt]

"Catch- shit Ryv I know you're new to flyin' but...not sure catchin' me will do much good I gotta be level with ya, partner." Maynard offered, glancing back to see the blazing flames rupturing from the aft of his ship. Letting off a deep sigh his BB unit sounded a series of concerned beeps as the droid set about conducting whatever on the fly repairs it could.

"Yeah- not gonna lie you are a damn 'endless font' of just prized information, a real luminary of the era here for tellin' me the 'hyperdrive is on fire' like- I mean I gotta be real with ya buddy, no shit." Maynard said, getting short with his droid in a rare turn of one as the craft breached the atmosphere, Maynard managing the best he could try and ease into a landing at least...padded. All the while he recieved a rebuttal in binary from his droid.

"No I don't actually mean it you goon...I'd be fucked sideways if you weren't there to pull me out my fair share of trouble. I just- man I just got in an X-Wing, a damn X-Wing for the first time and this shit happens? It's a weird day, buddy." Maynard remarks, remarkably calm as he manages to deploy the gear of the X-Wing and land it in the fresh, padded snow beneath. The white crystals continued to flutter and plummet all around them before soon enough Maynard would press the control to lift the canopy from the cockpit before crawling himself out.

"Aahhh- DAMN that is- BRrrrrrr...alright." Maynard says clattering his teeth in a faint shiver from the bruising cold, hopping out of the ship as he makes way for the cargo compartment, all the while his BB unit ejects fire extinguisher aersol over the blazing hyperdrive, eventually cooling the blaze down before it ejected itself free from the ship, having trouble rolling over the fresh snow pack but eventually making way to Maynard's side. In the distance, well within their view lied a complex elevated rock formation of overhanging mesas - being about the only notable terrain feature in sight, the brownish red rock beneath the snow sharply contrasting itself against the otherwise pale landscape.

---

Loske Treicolt | Ryv

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Despite the dire turn of events, Loske snickered at the exchange over the comms: Ryv trying to help, Maynard Treicolt setting him straight.

"Let's take either side, just in case." The blonde offered to Ryv while Maynard angled down toward the atmosphere. The transition from the vacuum of space to the atmosphere was always different. Thankfully Nelvaan was breathable, and the atmospheric readings that displayed on her HUD weren't life threatening. Just a bit cold.

"Keep your thrusters hot until you're out the space vacuum, otherwise you might contend with the gravity pull from one of those moons." She chattered her guidance through the speakers, hoping it was somewhat helpful to the fresh pilot. Worst case scenario, she assumed his BB unit could be useful and fill in the gaps. "Once you enter the atmosphere, reduce your speed and start to introduce your brakes. Not too much; give your craft some time to adjust to the density change."

A few more helpful tips were imparted as she careened her ship downward, settling a distance from Maynard's X-Wing.

"And the landing gear should deploy about 10 meters above the ground. Any sooner and you might lose it. Any later and...you might lose it."

Welcome to Nelvaan. The temperature outside is -10. Frank announced, while Loske removed her helmet and ran her hands through her hair to zhuzh it a bit.

"I wonder what the Sabers were supposed to do here..all those years ago. And if it still needs to be done.."

The logs detect that there's an operative plant here, some sort of pollutant. The reports are vague. Looked like an investigative mission.

She depressed the canopy and stretched before leaping to the ground; the snow instantly caking around her ankles and swallowing up her feet. Loske hated the cold. She was ill dressed for it, and she was from a desert planet. Or at the very best, an almost-tropical planet with her Naboo genetics. This snow stuff? Stupid.

Grumbling to herself, she trudged through the white stuff over to May and craned her neck to look upward. Smoke greeted her, but the flames seemed to have died down. "You okay over here?"

The temperature on the surface was marginally better than in space itself. But, despite the frigid air, the local flora continued their leisurely exploration over snow-swept ridges -- curiously investigating the arrival of three foreign machines.

Overhead, snow fell away in a sizeable clump, landing on Loske's head. With a yelp of surprise, she jumped backward and frantically brushed the freezing matter from her tresses with. Sapphire gaze snapped upward to seek out the perpetrator for the unwarranted dump, to see only a fluffy primate that made a hooouah sound before swinging away on other frozen-looking branches.