Kick the Tires and Light the Fires

[Jamo Jakatta]

The briefing room was quiet, and that could only mean one thing. The men and women of Rogue Squadron were suited and booted, helmets in their laps and stern focus in their eyes. Since joining the escort of the convoy known as the Wheel, the squadron's missions had been few and far between. Regular patrols had kept each pilot active, but for a bunch of jocks who had earned their wings vaping eyeballs and squints, it was soul-destroying stuff. Word was, however, that the Commander had an assignment for them at last – a real assignment – and not one of the squadron was going to miss the chance to take part.

When the door to the briefing room hissed open, it was Kelly Perris who entered. All eleven pilots rose to their feet and offered a crisp salute, as the hint of a smile touched Jamo's eyes. Perris gave a salute in return then gestured for them all to be at ease. They sank back into their seats, most perching on the edge, eagerly anticipating being out of the Valiant and in the skies.

“What's the score, Commander?”

[Carré Inirial]

Biting her lip, she was hard-pressed to stop tugging at her bright orange flight suit, her left hand holding her helmet on her lap. In spite of the determination writ across her features and lighting her gaze, Carré was having a deucedly rough time sitting still. The young woman had spent so long in the sim just getting used to the controls of her new ship before she'd even been let into it for routine patrols.

And now, she needed something else. Craved it, in fact, given how long it had now been since she'd flown into any form of combat. Gods, she fervently hoped that this briefing was going to throw something more interesting than another escort duty at them.

From her left side, an elbow introduced itself to her side which made her scowl until she turned to see who'd taken the seat. Broad-shouldered and blue-skinned, her wingman grinned at her as he spoke, his glowing crimson eyes crinkling around the edges. "Y'alright there, kiddo?"

"Yeah...I'm ok. Never been good at sitting still unless I'm painting, and with the possibility of something other than escort or patrol duty...I just don't know what to do with myself." She replied honestly, casting him a sheepish glance and a shrug of her shoulders.

Much to her chagrin, Yoree patted her head and snickered as she less than discreetly elbowed him in the side. Though she'd never tell him, Carré didn't mind him treating her like his kid sister most of the time. It was something she actually missed since the death of her brothers.

Carre's expression went blank save for a small smile as the Commander entered the room and everyone stood, offering a crisp salute. She perched on the very edge of her chair, hands clasped together atop the helmet in her lap as he bid them at ease, and waited eagerly. She'd have been bouncing if Yoree's hand hadn't settled on her shoulder to keep her still.

[Sanis Prent]

Late. Damn.

I walked into the briefing room, basking in the afterglow of a tremendous hangover. Last night was a blur. I knew there was whisky involved, and I think I attempted to go shot for shot with Cirr. Not surprisingly, my first mate was already present, looking fully awake and unaffected. It was a fool's errand to even try to out-drink the big guy, but I was feeling up for it for some reason.

I burped under my breath, paused, closed my eyes and screwed them up with my fists, then sauntered over to my seat, simply labeled Rogue 13. There had been a few laughs about sticking me with the supposedly unlucky number, but I took it all in stride. Besides, I was born lucky.

The upside about flying point in a ship with a considerable amount of ass to it was that I didn't have to wear the awful creamsicle Rebel flight suits. Instead, I got something more akin to a navy stiff, blue on blue jacket and pants. It matched Cirr's coveralls and still looked a little ridiculous for my taste, but it could be worse.

Looking to the side, I saw Cirr also standing at attention and saluting. Baffled at my colleague's sudden embracing of the asinine and ridiculous, I shrugged and stood idly by.

[Iyar Thiled]

Sitting to Jamo's side was Iyar, who was practically twitching in anticipation of Perris' words. It felt somewhat strange to find himself not wondering who the new faces were - especially the rather pretty thing that was currently situated on his other side. Joker had told him about a little incident that had happened between the lot over on the The Valiant. There had been a good amount of lamenting on Iyar's part that he hadn't been there in person to see it all, but something in the rations from The Wheel hadn't been sitting right with good 'ol Flipper and sadly he'd been spending that particular evening curled up in his bunk praying to whatever higher power there was that he could stop getting acquainted with the so-called porcelain gods.

Another glance was cast at lucky number 13 and the Cizerack with him. Iyar couldn't help but think the guy kind of looked like he was about to take up the charge that Iyar had managed to shake off. Maybe he'd gotten into that same bad batch of rations. Or maybe it was nerves. Or maybe Iyar was just projecting thoughts on to the guy...

The Zeltron made a bit of a face as he caught himself in the series of somewhat rambling thoughts, snapping his attention back to Perris.

[Kelly Perris]

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen… listen up.” He began, commanding their attention to the front of the room. He paced back and forth, slowly, until all eyes were attentively trained on him. Most all of them were. Everyone was itching for action. Kelly scanned the assembled for bleary eyes. Everyone knew what the other had been up to as of late – they all had been there. “Alzoc Three…”

He heard muffled groans. Everyone that knew their planets knew well enough knew that Alzoc III wasn’t much to look at and promised little in the way of action, as a general rule The commander waited for some of the disgruntled sounds to die down. “Okay, now. Hear me out”

Perris folded his hands behind his back, looking over the occupants of the room. He nodded, mostly to himself, as if to note some level of personal satisfaction. It would do.

“Since Endor, Alzoc III has been, for the majority of the time, left alone. Imperial forces pulled out after that disaster and consolidated. The Talz and their snowy wastes have been left in peace since. That is, until approximately three or four months ago.”

A whisper of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Although it wouldn’t have been amusing to a pacifist to have the peaceful Talz bothered, it was what they were bothered by that caused his minor touch of amusement. He seemed to lean in, then, as if he were preparing to tell tall tales.

“Pirates.” He put a heavy dousing of dramatics into his tone. “Pirates are harassing the Talz and we're to find out why and deter these pirates in the process."

That wasn't all. Command had noted to him the scent of something being a little off as if the whole story wasn't being told here. However, the squadron operated best on facts, not speculation. Information was metered out as 'need to know' and right now, he supposed that wasn't necessary. Of course, if someone asked, he might be obliged. Most of the squadron tended to be contented with the 'when and how' of things, as it went.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Aside from the one Talz who he'd seen milling about on the engineering decks, Jakatta didn't know much about the species or their homeworld. What interested him about this mission could be summoned up in one word: Pirates! Jamo suppressed a grin. There was something novel about the idea, the challenge of facing someone wasn't another cardboard cut-out from the Imperial naval academies. They all flew in the same formations, kept to the same tactics – but pirates! Well, unless they were academy drop outs, they might have a little ingenuity.

“When do we ship out?”

[Carré Inirial]

"Is that all the intel we have, Sir?"

Carré piped up, tapping her fingers absently across her helmet as she tried to formulate why it didn't sound right. There were pirates, they were harassing the Talz, they quite obviously needed to be taken care of. It should have been enough. And it was, and the Commander could very well tell her nothing more, but it was worth a shot to ask.


Hell, even Yoree leaned forward since she'd stopped bouncing in her seat, his own curiosity piqued.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"Pjirrates hell yes!"

Cirr suddenly realized that was out loud, and his ears fell down noticeably. Something was hard-written in Cizeri genes for that sort of response, and even after living years as essentially a scoundrel and a ne-er-do-well of some sort, Cirr was obviously happy about turning it about.

Sanis just shook his head at it all. Cirr sniffed. He was still feeling the effects of last night, but Cirr figured a batch of greasy leftovers and some caf and he'd get his head screwed on.

[Kelly Perris]

Perris was glad to see enthusiasm. Everyone had been less-than-enthusiastic about the routine patrols, as there was little action in them. Aside from when they had lost Bailey, there had been virtually nil in the way of combat. Fighter pilots were not only protectors, but hunters. They could be, in some ways, feral. Cirr's thrilled whoop seemed to speak for the squadron.

Rogue Leader turned his attention to Carré Inirial, Rogue Eleven, who had the mind to ask after more information. There wasn't much in the way of it, but...

"Command thinks there's something more to this. There's little on Alzoc III that is of any worth to your standard pirate. Snow and Talz, that's about all that's there. The brass thinks there's something afoot. Either these pirates are hiding something or this is a diversion from something else." He looked from Inirial to everyone, then. "Regardless of what's really going on, the pirates are still part of the problem."

Finally. Finally, they were doing more than sitting away on their keesters. Rapt attention was written on the faces of everyone assembled, awaiting 'go'. Well, most everyone

"Squadrons permanently stationed with the Valiant will be taking over our duties, here. Thank them for their sacrifice." Kelly laughed. "You'll have three hours from the scheduled end of this briefing. We'll be shipping out after midday meal."

He paused, as if to consider something before saying anything more. Then:

"Alright. Any further questions?"

[Sanis Prent]

I raised my hand, still a little shaky from the previous night out.

"If it's pirates, they like to hit with small craft but there might be one or more large capital ships they keep as mobile bases. Any word on what our ROE is if we run into one of those?"

Cirr and I both knew more about pirates than the entire room, I imagined. They weren't always well armed, but they were very unorthodox. At any rate, after weeks of retrofitting and repairing, we'd gotten Layla, er, Rogue 13 whipped into shape as heavy escort platform. Added an extra warhead tube and a beefier shield generator power plant at the expense of some of the normal cargo hold capacity. My plan for a pirate-rigged pair of engines from an A-wing was on hold, as we couldn't afford one engine, let alone quite figure out how to make it work. Still, the ship was leaner and meaner than she'd been probably since I bought her.

[Jamo Jakatta]

“The usual?” Jamo chipped in, with a glance at Perris. “Fangs out and confirm situational awareness on arrival? Unless intel got us more than just jump co-ordinates this time.”

Somehow, he doubted that the pirates would just be sitting waiting for the Rogue's to show up the party. If they had a base or a routine, he supposed the Commander would have mentioned it by now, so it seemed to him that they were essentially going in blind.

[Iyar Thiled]

If the thought of hunting some space-trash pirates wasn't enough to make him grin, Cirr's outburst sealed the deal to the point where if the briefing went on much longer, Iyar's cheeks would ache the rest of the day.

If there was something up more than just pirates pestering people on a snowy planet, Iyar was sure they could handle it. Rogue Squadron always was able to handle it.

As Joker asked the next question, the Zeltron was still happy to keep quiet. Anything that was cropping up in his mind was quickly being mentioned by the others. And while the usual in this case would be something they hadn't done in some time, Iyar almost wanted to see just how exciting this whole thing could end up and maybe, just maybe, they'd have a different procedure to go by this time around.

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly, in his usually calm demeanor that came with briefings, fielded the questions in the order they were asked. First, to Sanis. A good question. One he realized was in the details, in hindsight. It really had been too long since they'd been put to something useful.

"Yes... sorry. It was a long night for all of us, it seems. Too long between missions, too." He offered a partially grimacing smile before laughing somewhat, clearing his throat and continuing. "Intel confirms small craft as you have suggested, Prent. However, there were no reported sightings of base ships, meaning they were either not in the local area, planetside or doing their best to remain unseen. Ideally, those of us in snubfighters chase down the smaller craft and run cooperative on larger vessels with support craft like the Layla heading such initiatives. Overall, we exploit weaknesses where we can find them, as soon as we find them, providing it's convenient and not detrimental to our position. All in all, you support us, we support you."

Hot Mama rubbed a hand over his eyes. A part of him entertained the notion that he might be getting too old for the late nights and routine mornings. A thought he banished without issue. Next, to Jamo.

"Pretty much, Joker. I don't like flying in blind like this any more than the next guy, but I'll take it over dull and predictable. I think everyone can agree on that." He stated, glancing over the assembled before going on. "The smaller craft in the area, for the most part, were seen to not be long-range vehicles. There has to be support somewhere. I wouldn't count on being lucky enough for anything bigger to be 'out of town', so to speak."

Routine patrols and imperial ties was what he meant by 'dull and predictable'. There'd been little change to the flight and attack formations and routines that the imperial squadrons used as standard since he had last been one of them. Most of what they knew and displayed was cutting edge when he introduced and taught it at Carida. Obviously, some of those pilots had improvised. How else had he seen her still alive back on Bespin? Of all people, it would be expected that she would come out on top.

He tried not to think about that, instead scanning the men and women before him for further questions.

"Anyone else?" The room was almost eerily silent now. All eyes on him. "Okay. No more questions then. Go time is thirteen-hundred hours. You're dismissed."

He stared at all of them, staring at him, like they hadn't heard. Or they were in disbelief.

"Well? Scram, the lot of you! Move. Time's a-wastin'." And he turned away and exited, stage left.

------

Flight Deck - Valiant - 1200hrs

"Shouldn't you be eating, sir?"

"I already did, Tink."

"Oh. Well... oh. Okay then." The young man peered out from where he sat in the cockpit of a recently acquired x-wing that, as yet, did not have a pilot. It was supposed to go with another X-wing - which also, did not have a pilot. Perris sighed. "Something wrong, Commander?"

Kelly shook his head. "Nothing new and nothing that should concern you, Regan Altink."

The young mechanic winced, not liking the sound of his full name at all. He didn't mention it, however. He knew it was a rebuke, meaning he should keep his nose out of business that wasn't really his own, but he'd been around each bend right along with the squadron and they both knew he deserved to be in on everything. Tink managed to find out, one way or another, eventually.

"Three pilots; I know. They've only sent you one to fill one space." Tink leaned out of the cockpit, draping one arm with a spanner in hand outside of it. "But you know and I know that you'll do alright. Got faith in you guys, chief."

"Thanks, Tink." Kelly licked his lips, hands posed on his hips. "You remember Sanis Prent, right? Well, he seems to be on with us as..."

Kelly snerked.

"What? Well, he ain't getting in any of my cockpits."

The commander just shook his head.

"No... no. The Layla is now Rogue 13." He looked up at Regan again. "You think calling him Lucky over the comm. would be a little much, kid?"

Regan laughed then, ducking himself back into the wiring work on the x-wing. "No, sir. Not at all. Perfect, in fact."

[Carré Inirial]

"Don't forget to eat."

"Huh?"

"Eat something, kiddo. You do know what that means, yes?"

"Oh shut up, Yoree...even I know better than that." She stuck her tongue out at him and darted away before he could retaliate, turning to grin as she reached the door.

~~~

Flight Deck - Valiant - 1215hrs

"Regan!"

Her voice rang out as she bounced onto the flight deck, searching the various ships for the squadron's mechanical whiz-kid. A loud, and half-muffled 'oww' came from one of the cockpits, followed soon by a head of hair that had likely not seen a comb in some time.

"Dammit, Princess...don't do that!"

"Jeebus, Regan, we're all gonna be pouring in here today, we're leaving in forty-five. You really weren't expecting me this soon?"

"Expected you two hours ago. Eleven's ready, get outta my hair." He shook his head with a smirk and ducked back into his work.

Carré offered an impish grin as she wandered over to her ship, waving to Yoree as he clambered up his own ladder. Stowing her small bag, she then dropped her helmet on her seat before hopping back down. She paced around the ship as she always did, doing a quick visual check that had become reflexive from her days at Carida. Fingers trailed along the cool metal as she walked, then grasped the short ladder as she hopped back up and into her cockpit.

Settling in, she sat there for a moment and did nothing save for breathing deeply. Blinking, she grinned to herself as she set her helmet aside and began her pre-flight checks.

[Sanis Prent]

Layla - 1225 hours

"...oh...ohhhhh...

...harder...yes...yes...give it to meeeee....

...ohh...ohh....uhhhhhhhh...."

...and so on and so forth. I could hear it from the bridge, and I smiled.

"About time, damn."

I sipped my caf, now about lukewarm. I felt good, felt lethal. Below deck, my first mate was knocking the oil pan out of Master Chief Kochanski's bottom, as well he should. He needed to get his tip wet more than I did, and the now-legendary promiscuous master of alliance inventory was easy enough. She didn't even extort any of our surplus inventory for the ride, I guess she figured Cirr was an exotic enough flavor.

Besides, I was after more elusive game, like Saricia. Part of it was legitimate, but I guess an equal amount of it was revenge on s'Il. I never said I wasn't petty. I at least kept an open mind that at some point my attraction to the brunette Jedi might even become an honest one. Maybe. I still held open the thought that if I showed her more of the galaxy than she'd seen to this date and gave her a long leash, she'd be down for all sorts of fun activities on the side.

Another glance down to the mission dossier on my screen, and I switched it off. It was straightforward, but plenty cryptic. We had a vague idea of what was out there, but not much. The moment Cirr got back to the ship, he began berating MARCUS constantly about the sensor suite. We had the biggest set in the squadron, but the big guy was intent on cheating a little more range and clarity out of it...basically anything to occupy his time before launch. That led to Master Chief Booty Call coming aboard. As of the last diagnostic, it netted us a 4% signal range boost and a 2% clarity factor, and it was netting Cirr...

"oooohhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!"

...well.

Silence. I waited a few seconds, then tapped on the comm.

"Cirr, what's the status on repairs?"

Through the comm, I heard Kochanski's post-coital panting as Cirr coughed briefly, fumbling for the vox.

"Plugged a coolant leak, and jI'm cleanjing up as we speak."

I didn't have to see his face to know he was smiling. We were on the same wavelength.

"Well, when you're back in uniform, please escort the cooling leak off the ship. We're flaring up and moving out in just a few."

I killed the vox, paused, lit up a stim, and patched an external comm out.

"Rogue Thirteen to Rogue Eleven, come in."

[Carré Inirial]

In the midst of her pre-flight checks, she'd flipped her music player on, a driving drumbeat and fast guitars echoing out from it. She doubted she'd be the only one with music on, but she kept the volume low enough to not bother anyone else. Tugging the headset onto her head since she didn't feel like patching it into her helmet yet, she tested it briefly with a quick call to Yoree.

Her wingman gifted her with a muffled curse in Cheunh, which he'd begun teaching her some of the past several days. If only so that when he ranted, she'd have half a clue as to what the hell he was saying. Carré snickered at his obvious frustration and cut the comm off, a bare minute before it crackled to life again.

"Rogue Thirteen to Rogue Eleven, come in."

The brunette arched a brow as she flicked it on to answer Sanis.

"Eleven here...what's up, Thirteen?" she replied as she turned her music down to hear better, and leaned back in her seat.

[Sanis Prent]

"So, what are ya wearin'?"

[Carré Inirial]

"Under this here orange flight-suit? Not a damn thing."

[Sanis Prent]

"Whaddya say we fuck these pirates up, swing back, and I show you how to lose your creamsicle suit?"

I leaned back in my pilot's seat, boots on the console, lining up ships in my view with a finger & thumb "gun" and "shooting" them to pass the time.

[Carré Inirial]

"Now how's a girl supposed to refuse an offer like that? I've got half a mind to accept if I even thought you could handle me."

Carré shot back, toying with the cord to her headset as she watched the last of her diagnostics finish and display results on their screens.