Thunderbolt [Vela]

[Corvus Dravere]

Outer Rim
Capital Starport

Zakkeg Squadron had taken a beating. In fact, it had taken a hell of a beating. Whatever world this was, he'd forgotten in the months they'd been here. A civil war gripped it, the foul, soul-scarring violence of brother against brother staining the very character of the planet's population. Today, his own fighter had scarcely made it back to the starport. With the continent at war, even the capital had been turned into a fortress.

In between the transports and supply ships that came and went from the void above, starfighters and atmospheric craft streamed to and from the battlefield. Smoke rose from a large hole blasted near the engine, and he'd nearly crashed just lowering the ancient TIE fighter onto the tarmac.

Reaching up, he pulled the cockpit release and gave it a shove. Hoisting himself upward, he grunted at the effort, standing atop the ball cockpit while waiting for his crewchief to bring the ladder over. Looking down, he gave a short wave to the Duro carrying his way down in his hands, and Corvus dropped his helmet onto the pilot's seat before taking hold of the rungs and climbing down.

"You've got your work cut out for you, Skral." He says, clapping the alien on his shoulder.

The large, beady eyes of the Duro just stared at him, and then Skral shook his head. "One day you won't come back."

"Today's not that day, my friend." Corvus knew he sounded as exhausted as he looked. The decades of combat stress had taken it's toll.

Shaking his head again, Skral motioned for a pair of repair droids to come forward, and Corvus craned his head upward as a deep shadow passed over the landing bay. Just a transport, likely bringing citizens home to check on their families - or supplies, possibly. In the end, it wasn't his concern. Sighing, he merged into the crowds in the hallway, which were predominantly military in nature.

Some were mercenaries, some were soldiers, but the guards outside his own hangar bay kept any prying eyes from getting in. "I need a damn drink." He mutters, walking past the bay where the transport was setting down before deciding to head towards the nearest watering hole. He stopped, blinking, eyes unfocusing, refocusing, and then staring straight ahead.

Where the feth was the cantina, anyway? Gak it, he was getting old.

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

She rolled her shoulders, the movement eliciting a very slight grunt as beads of stress pressed down her back, causing slight pain before they relaxed once they were back to its original, natural position. It had been a couple of months since her arrival to this planet, they knew the situation was tense but they truly hadn't expected for a civil war to break through. At least not anytime before they departed. But her team had been wrong, and she had no plans of leaving without seeing that her project was finished. After dropping the tools she had in her hands back into their box, Vela proceeded to pick up an already dirty rug to clean as much oil she could from her hands. The gesture did not do much for her general appearance, her working clothes as well as most of her exposed skin was still dirty here or there, sweat slightly dampening her hair and back.

As usual, it was now that she stopped working that she realized how tired she was and a smile tugged at her lips. It had been a long time since she had been this kind of tired, physically tired. As her company progressed, most of her days had turned into long sessions pertaining to the work of an executive administrator. Her time of hands-on work had fallen behind, with new personnel and machines taking it over. So Vela felt a strange sort of pleasantness as her blue-green eyes took in the shape of what would be the next ship model, despite the current situation they were in.

After her mind had already processed tiredness, thirst was the sensation to follow. This, combined with the fact that she had already dismissed her working team for the day, left her with no choice but to stand up and walk out of the bay she'd been working in, her destination set on the cantina. Yes, her appearance would have usually been less than suitable to enter any place of social nature but she was not the type to really care that much about such banal things. Anyways, in this place and especially at these times of war, not only did nobody care if she was presentable or not but instead most shared in her disheveled state.

Vela was pulled from her distracted state when she heard a man mutter something about drinks and start looking about in hopes of finding something. Her intuition pushed forward and her eyes rose to look at the man who was a good height advantage on her. He was most likely a pilot for the looks of it. "Cantina's that way, if that's what you are looking for. I'm headed there myself." She said, pointing towards a corner for the cantina was established a few meters after that turn.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

He was most definitely a pilot. A feminine voice broke him from his reverie, and he turned his head to find himself staring at a brunette woman, evidently recently engrossed in some form of work. You couldn't hide the dirt under the nails, nor the lingering grease marring her skin. Her clothing backed up the assumption she was a grease-monkey, and he smiled. It wasn't a large one, but rather, it just barely curled the left corner of his lips upward.

It was easy to appreciate someone like that - attractive or otherwise, and she was certainly easy on the eyes.

"Let me buy you a drink." He says, rumbling baritone barely rising above a whisper. "It's the least I could do for someone keeping us in the air."

The bond between a crew-chief and pilot was sacred, but any and all mechanics had the respect of the men in the air. They couldn't fly without a ship, and they wouldn't have a ship were it not for those digging in the wires and oil. Feeling as tired as he looked, and he certainly looked on the wrong side of exhausted, his smile fell and his lips returned to their thin line.

With his black flightsuit and lifesupport chestpiece, he clearly flew a TIE fighter of some sort. No symbols adorned his attire, though, and the uniform was old, and so he was likely one of the mercenaries hired to fight the war on this backwater. Taking a few steps, he looked around the corner and nodded before giving a brief wave of his fingers for her to follow. Ducking into the poorly lit cantina, he immediately felt at home and made for the bar, setting a foot on the rail and leaning his weight onto arms he crossed atop the counter so he could flag down the bartender.

[member="Vela Kryss"]

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

Velathri offered a friendly smile. All around them pilots, mechanics and crew still moved about doing their work. In times of war there never seemed to be a resting moment, she had learned that very soon after joining the Vilosorian military. War was taxing in a myriad of ways and though of course she would rather have peace, Vela couldn't help but find something fascinating in the collective efforts that the lack of it created. It was ironic, people doing their best when it came to destroying each other, but whatever was the purpose of it did not make it any less remarkable in her eyes. There was much to be lost and loss was always a great incentive, sadly.

"Never say no to a drink," she replied, her voice smooth and carrying a placid, warm tone. "so long as the second round is on me." Again, her smile widened. She had a knack for holding onto what little positivity she could regardless of the circumstances. The man started walking and she followed suit, feeling shorter than she was used to due to the towering height of him. Her initial assumption had been correct, the man was a pilot and if her judging was well-aimed, a recently returned one too.

The cantina was too close and it didn't take them long to get there. Vela quickly scanned the place, there was a chance that some of her crew decided to come here but it seemed not to be the case for she saw no familiar faces among the people inside. It wasn't a problem, she'd meet them in the early hours of the next day and there weren't any pressing matters besides the obvious to attend to. Her attention was shifted back to the pilot, her eyes following soon after. "Its getting hard up there isn't it? The ships are definitely taking a beating."

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

Her drinking partner didn't seem too bothered by the people around them. He paid them no more attention than one would pay the lone cloud drifting through a blue, summer sky. "It's been hard up there." He says, two shot glasses set in front of them, an amber liquor nestled within the containers. "Whiskey." He says, handing over some credits for the barkeep before raising the glass to her.

With a quick toast, he downed it, nose crinkling before he closes his eyes, basks in the warmth seeping into his system, and then looks to her. He's more relaxed now, and while it doesn't really soften his weatherbeaten face, it does make him look a bit more approachable.

"Not a lot of high technology on this world. Sometimes I think they've never seen a starfghter." He shook his head.

"Just today, some of the Loyalists stopped shooting in the middle of the battle to gawk at my TIE as it screamed overhead." A hand came up, running his fingers through his hair to smooth it back out of his face. "It's a wonder the battlelines have changed at all these past few months."

[member="Vela Kryss"]

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

She raised her hands, maneuvering them behind her head to let loose the band that had kept her hair up the whole day. Having it down was unusual for her since long hair tended to get in the way. Still, after long hours of tension, letting it loose was a welcomed sensation. Vela offered a nod as a reply to the man's answer, accompanied by a light sigh. Things were getting hard on land too. Maybe it was not yet a battlefield, but she wouldn't be surprised if the conflict descended from the skies to the surface sooner rather than later. Her crew had already expressed their belief that leaving was the wiser decision. It was, but she couldn't bring herself to abandon projects yet unfinished and leave people without their help when hands as able as the ones of her crew were direly needed.

The drinks arrived and she gladly accepted hers, mouthing a thank you in return. She downed it down, with far less ease than the man besides her and took a moment to contain the foreign but pleasant feeling of heat rise in her chest. It didn't take an expert to notice she wasn't very used to drinking, it was something Vela had started partaking in only in the most recent years and still very rarely. She enjoyed it, just not so fervently as others seemed to do.

"They've never seen a good starfighter, that much is for sure." She replied, a light chuckle accompanying her comment. Then her tone turned more contemplative, still retaining that seemingly characteristic warmness. "They still do the best work they can with what they have, must give them that."

Vela raised her eyebrows slightly when he mentioned how the battlelines hadn't changes for so long. "So you've been flying here for some time then. Must be a good pilot. Is your ship holding out well?" Then she caught the attention of the bartender and signaled for him to refill both their glasses, paying and thanking him before returning her gaze to the pilot.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

She clearly wasn't used to alcohol. She partook, which meant she'd had it before, but she was still unused to the taste. It was evident in the wince of her eyes and the scrunch of her nose - and the little bit of a scowl that pulled at her lips that said 'that was awful.' "Oh, aye, but out here, 'the best work' is still questionable." He kept his voice low, but it didn't seem to be because he was worried some of the native population would hear.

Rather, he just seemed to be a quiet man - odd, for a pilot. Most pilot's were loud, boisterous, gregarious, and very, very young.

He was on the wrong side of 40, judging by the grey lining his hair and neatly kept beard. "I've been flying for... twenty five years." He admits, "Been here since the start, keeping the skies clear as I can." He frowns at that, giving her a murmured thanks for the drink. "It's a bit shot up. All that ground fire. I'm called in for close air support, but when you go to strafe, someone invariably turns a high powered blaster in your direction. TIE fighters are surprisingly durable to small arms fire, but they can only take so much."

[member="Vela Kryss"]

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

"Can't deny that." She agreed. The mechanics on this planet might have had the knowledge to make do with their resources, and she admired them for it. Still, there was no escaping the fact that most of what was produced here and considered 'good quality' would have been merely a laughable attempt in the more developed planets. She herself would have never allowed those parts to go into one of her ships, no sir.

"I arrived soon before it started too, though that was the result of a bad decision." Vela had never had troubles admitting her faults. She had trusted luck to be on her side and it wasn't, and still it had been her call to come here despite the tense situation. "I'm not really a mechanic anymore, used to be. Managed to start up my own company, building armament and ships. Had been working on a design for a light corvette with an associate from here and well...had bad timing." After that, she gave him a smile before picking up her glass and downing its content.

He really caught her attention when he elaborated about the situation he was facing with his TIE in the battlefront. Starfighters excelled in what they were meant to do and their maneuverability was unmatched, but it was extremely rare to see those capable of withstanding the stronger hits for a respectable amount of time. "I can take a look if you'd like. The ship I'm working on will never be more than a prototype now that I can't get the parts I need from outside this place so I can spare the ones I do have."

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

He listened intently, pushing himself up to his full height while watching her. A brow lofted at her mention of working on ships, "An expensive mechanic." He jokes softly, "Bad timing though, yes." He agrees, nodding slowly while giving her another toast and downing the glass. A faint grimace, and it was down, and he let out a content sigh at the familiar burn.

There was a moment of pause, and he wasn't sure if he - or more importantly, Skral - would trust her working on the ship. But, at this point, there wasn't much harm. The TIE was grounded, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"Sure. Why not take a look. I've certainly nothing to lose at this point." Yet, he couldn't quite shake the sinking feeling in his gut that this would somehow blow up in his face.

[member="Vela Kryss"]

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

Vela's features turned into what seemed be an amused expression, her eyes shining for a short moment. "Yeah you could say that. I definitely miss my mechanic days, though. Would love to be of some help." Why she had chosen to go into the fields of armament and ships was better understood when people knew the background where she came from. She wouldn't have had any problems elaborating on her story but she simply felt it was a tale for another time.

"Great." She was happy he had agreed and that was evident in her smile and voice. "I've got what's left of the day off if that suits you but in all honesty I'm not leaving this planet anytime soon so time and place aren't an issue for me" She added, locking her eyes on his. Vela kept an open and understanding demeanor and she trusted the man to say if he wasn't sure about having her around his ships. She knew first-hand how pilots could be touchy about who is and isn't allowed to manipulate their beloved vessels, and she respected that. After all, she had to admit she too could get sort of protective over her ship.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

She was certainly happy, and that gave him a bit of confidence that it wasn't a horrendous decision. Looking to the door, he stared through it and into the crowds beyond, and then panned his dark eyes back to hers. "Are you sure you want to do this now?" He asks, "You don't seem to drink much, and those two shots will either barely affect you or put you on your arse."

He smiled at that, hoping to reassure her. "I'm fine with it if you are, but, I like to be sure of things before committing."

[member="Vela Kryss"]

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

The Vilosorian couldn't help but laugh shortly at the man's statement. "I've never been much of a drinker. Is it really that obvious?" Humor tainted the smooth voice of the young woman. "But i do hold it very well, thank that on my species metabolism." She added, letting him now that she would be alright. She'd never be around a ship if she was not in a proper condition. Velathri seemed to be easy going and relaxed with mostly everything, but there were too little things that she took as seriously as ships.

"By the way, name is Vela. Pleasure to meet you." Upon noticing she had not yet introduced herself, she was quick to offer her name together with a smile. If he was going to allow her to put her hands on the vessel, the least she could do was be decent and share her name. After all, he was a pilot fighting a war and the work of a mechanic on his TIE could potentially be the deciding factor on whether he'd return back to ground with his life intact or not.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

“It’s always obvious.” He replies simply. “It never tastes good, but the larger the grimace the less you’re used to it.” It was what passed for simple, interpersonal math. “Vela.” Her name rolled experimentally from his tongue, and he nodded, extending a gloved hand for her to shake.

“Corvus.” This time, it was his turn to introduce himself. Smiling, he’d give her hand a firm shake should she take it, and likely be surprised by how firm hers was. “A pleasure.” He adds, motioning for her to follow. “Cmon, I’ll show you to the ship.” As he went past, it’d be easier to see the faint hint of red to his cheeks from the alcohol.

He could handle it well, but it still warmed the body, and it didn’t take much to reach that point. The short walk to the landing bay found them standing before a very beat up TIE - and no Skral in sight. He’d likely gone to find parts. “There she is.” He says, staring at the scarred vehicle on the tarmac in front of them.

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

Vela's smiled widened as she confidently took the offered hand, that friendly shine in her eyes. "Right after you." She responded, and proceeded to follow him. The expanse between the cantina and the bay was already known to her so she allowed herself some distraction, her gaze wandering through the familiar place. She was observant, and no matter how many times she'd been somewhere it became more of a habit than an actual effort to notice details about her surroundings.

She noticed how his cheeks had adopted a slightly red tinge, certainly due to their previous drinks. Surely her face had followed a similar path, judging by the warm feeling that spread from her cheeks to the tip of her nose. She could definitely say that the aftermath of drinking was far more pleasant than the deed itself. Her body felt more relaxed, making it easier to move about. Soon enough, they had reached his ship and Vela's eyes were quick to assess the matter at hand.

"Well she's definitely taken a beating" she mused, taking some steps forward and moving around the ship with some sort of acquired expertise. Vela had spent so much time around ships that it had grown to be a second nature. She spent some moments in silence while examining the vessel, a concentrated look crossing her features. Some might say it was somewhat funny to see how quickly she became endorsed in her task.

"Okay. I think I've got what you need." She said while jumping down from a box she had used to get a better view of the engine, not everyone had the luck to be tall. "Be right back." Taking quick strides towards the sector where her crew worked, knowing the needed parts where stored in one of the carts they kept there. After finding it, she started pushing it back towards where Corvus and the ship waited. The cart was large and seemingly very heavy, not something she would usually be able to move around without a good amount of effort. Luckily for her, summer was approaching and with it that impressive strength her kind were renowned for returned. Not many species were powerhouses half of the year and docile weakling the remaining half, both had their benefits and downsides.

"Engine's a mess. Luckily for your ship, we can have it changed." She announced, a smile on her face.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

In the time since he'd left, Skral had gotten some scaffolding set up, and his tools still lay out around the back where he had been digging through the wiring for the engine. Corvus had always marveled at how quick and efficient the alien could be when affecting repairs, and while Corvus himself knew enough to perform spot maintenance, he still wasn't sure what the Duro was up to more than 10% of the time he was engaged in repairs. "Aye, she has." He agrees, "Which, in fairness, I did warn you of."

Somehow, he didn't manage to sound like a smarmy prick.

While she was gone, he climbed up the scaffolding, peering into the engine and wincing. The wiring alone was going to cost him a good deal of credits, and while things out here were cheap, they were also of poor quality. One, two runs and he'd need to buy more. And the parts just got more and more expensive as the fight went on. Hearing the cart, he peered over the top of the ball cockpit and raised a brow.

The woman was pushing an engine. Alone. The thing didn't seem to have much in the way of mechanical assistance, either.

His second brow rose. "You going to lift that engine up here yourself?" He asks, wondering just how much strength she had in her arms.

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

Vela looked at him in slight confusion upon seeing him with a raised brow. Her expression was swiftly changed once he spoke and she couldn't help but chuckle. It was easy to forget that it could be surprising to see someone her size being able to push the heavy things around. "No, can't lift it by myself...at least not yet." She answered, knowing that her reply could generate confusion. One thing was pushing it in a wheeled cart and another was lifting the thing for it to be worked on. "I'm Vilosorian, we get...stronger during the warmer season in our planet, which is beginning." She explained, a small smile lifting her lips.

After climbing up once more to make sure she hadn't missed anything, she started disassembling the damaged engine. "The parts I've got for you have been made in my company. Hopefully they'll last you until the conflict ends if they don't get too much damage. " She said, looking at him with a happy expression. She had no use for this engine as it was and had brought it to use select parts of it. Since her project had been sabotaged by the war, there was no point in dismantling it completely when it could be given a better use.

"I don't know who's been looking after your ship but they've been doing great work." She decided to comment. Of course, the low-quality parts sold in this planet could only get you so far but the repairs that had been previously made were excellent. With some luck they wouldn't have much complicated work anymore so long as the new engine didn't get too much damage. It was of a much greater quality than anything people from here could get their hands on.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

"Vilosorian." It sounded like some kind of ancient reptile - and seasonal strength seemed to back up that idea as it floated through his head. Helping her heft the engine up onto the scaffolding via a small work harness that came with it, he continued to eye her curiously. "I appreciate it. Let me know what I owe you." He remarks, utterly serious.

"Skral will be pleased to hear that. He takes a good deal of pride in keeping this thing afloat." And old naval term, rather than one of flight, but the two often intermixed for reasons no one knew. Thankfully, the TIE fighter was a simple design, since it was meant to be churned out in massive numbers with easily created parts. Digging through the tools, he pulled his gloves off and rolled up his sleeves, deciding to take her lead in removing the damaged engine for maintenance.

Only then, of course, could they install the new one.

He paused, then smiled at her in wry amusement. "Hopefully he doesn't mind us digging around in here - at least not too much."

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

She smiled and nodded upon being given the name of the usual mechanic of the ship. Vela would make sure to praise his work did she get the chance to meet him. For the time being, she moved quickly and efficiently. It was as if her hands simply knew were to go and what to do, soon enough the damaged engine was almost completely dismantled. She mouthed a thank you once they had mounted the new engine onto the scaffolding and took a second to catch her breath before proceeding with her work. The hours seemed to fly by whenever she got to take care of ships herself.

"I wouldn't blame him if he does. If I say so myself, I did get a bit cranky when someone messed with one of my ships." She said, referring to those ships that had been under her care during her time as a mechanic. Technicians tended to be a bit territorial.

"You owe me nothing." She said, confidently and with a smile. There was no way in which she would accept payment for this. She had asked to take a look at the ship out of her own accord and the parts would have been used for repairing a fighter sooner or later, now that their original purpose was lost. "I mean it, I have no use for this engine if I can't get the rest of the material I need so it would have been disassembled to help with repairs anyways."

[member="Corvus Dravere"]

 

[Corvus Dravere]

He kept his hands busy, tending the left side of the engine while she worked the right. It was easy enough to get out once she pointed out what to do, and they swung it out and away so that it could be lowered to the ground. Giving the new one a tug upward, he swung it around and into position, smiling softly at her. "I'll just have to owe you, then." He says simply, not willing to take an entire starfighter engine for nothing - even if that's what she'd like.

One good turn deserved another; that's how he'd been raised.

"Maybe a bottle of whiskey - help you get used to the taste. Much like pain, the only way to get used to it is to be exposed to it."

A small repair droid floated down from above, a sparking probe reaching in to start soldering wires into place while his upper half disappeared into another cavity around the back of the starfighter. "I don't have much else to offer, I'm afraid, save liquor or a flight in the TIE, and frankly, the TIE is cramped quarters."

 

[Cyern Aarseth]

Vela laughed shortly, her eyes trained on the wiring as she set everything back into place. She had to admit it had been long since she last had this fun fixing up a ship and it made good memories come back. Those of the times when her life was much simpler and easy, for the most part. Still she was proud of what she had achieved and though she missed some of the past, she was happy to be where she was today. "Yeah, been there. Sharing a TIE isn't the comfiest experience ever." She agreed.

"Anyways, if you gave me a bottle of liquor it would end up becoming either a really fun tale or one of the worst days in both of our lives." Her voice held that humorous tinge, the look on her face conveying she was at least half-joking. "But honestly, I'm having a good time patching this girl up. No need to offer anything in return." Then she easily made her way down the scaffolding, walked to the area assigned to her crew and came back holding two bottles of water. Upon climbing the structure back up, she extended one of the bottles to Corvus, smiling friendly as was usual in her.

[member="Corvus Dravere"]