Charlie Foxtrot

[Cael Bathala]

“You have the ball, Hellfire Six.”

In the cockpit of his TIE Fighter, Cael Bathala gave the guidance controls a minute twitch. His eyes were on the amber bead of light that wobbled in the centre of the starfighters tactical display screen, providing him with the assurance that he had the correct vector for landing inside of the Kalidor.

At that moment in time, he could think of nothing more he wanted to do than get back to the boat. For the past three hours, the Gold Flight of Hellfire Squadron had been attempting to run tactical drills in the space surrounding the Strike-class cruiser. Attempting was the key word. About the only thing they'd done right was foul up, and generate a lot of work for the knuckle-draggers by playing space bumper-cars.

There was a ba-dump as the TIE's landing gear hit the deck, whilst control gave the go-ahead for Hellfire Seven, Kistra Dubreas, to follow Bathala in. She was just landing as her flightmate's climbed out of their cockpits, sweat beaded on Cael's brow – from the tight fitting flight helmet, if nothing else. They had six hours of downtime to look forward to, whilst Red and Blue Flights tried to improve on their poor performance.

[Kidd Smix]

Kidd wrestled free of his helmet and cast it to the flight deck in frustration. It bounced away and rolled to a halt next to his ship, which cooled with a long whine, probably just as relieved as him to be back on solid ground. Next he snatched off his gloves and snapped the rubber band out of his hair, allowing long rebellious locks to fall and cling to his pink face. For a moment, he skulked back and forth.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!" he said, his words accompanied by the wet slap of palm meeting forehead. Somewhere behind him he heard the clunk of a third starfighter being embraced in landing brackets and promptly gathered his things. Before leaving he gave his ship a parting glance.

"See y'around, Nancy."

Across the hangar stood Hellfire Six who was busy assessing the damage to his ship. Kidd took a deep breath and strode towards him, hoping to say his piece before he managed to turn to face him.

"Hey Cael, you don't need to say, I know I messed up that last manouveur big time, I know. Heck, I thought I was doing the right thing, but when I saw Kisty moving in so hot, well I thought- I thought "Gee, if I don't bank right here both of us are toast!" so I banked right... next thing I know is I'm clipping your wing and sending you spinning on some crazy waltzer ride. I'm sorry, buddy."

He came to a stop behind his flightmate and with a nervous smile, patted him on the back.

"We'll do better next time!"

[Kistra Dubreas]

Hellfire Seven... Kistra had been overly pleased to just get that number. Lucky! She had thought. Though it seemed it was turning out to be anything but. As the TIE made its final halt she couldn't help but let a small groan leave her before following suit in tugging off her helmet and climbing out of the cockpit.

She caught sight of Smix and Bathala standing near Cael's banged up ship and lowered her head slightly, bringing her hand up to press against the side of her face before running up alongside her head and finally tugging on her hair, tied up and slightly moist from sweat. The sensation brought out another slightly disgusted groan from her.

Some part of her wanted to shout out to her flight-mates that what happened out there wasn't her fault. But the pride was entirely misplaced and there was nothing quite like being on the Kalidor to make that horrifically apparent.

"Hey guys, maybe we should bail out of here while we can before Adder gets in here and reams us a new one...?" Her voice came out meek, almost timid. It had become the norm since Hellfire had found its new home.

[Cael Bathala]

“Good idea.”

Tearing the collar of his flightsuit open, Cael began to pace away from the trio of starfighters. Already mechanics were moving in on the TIEs, groaning at the sight of scrapes and scorches that Gold Flight had left them to deal with. Bathala glanced briefly over his shoulder at Smix.

It wasn't the kid's fault that he was a lousy pilot, but Cael could tell the rest of the squadron was getting impatient with him. Since being assigned to the Kalidor, their formal training hours had been dropped significantly, on account of the cruiser being more than a little under-staffed. It was a drag on morale to have such a poor squadron on patrol, though their lack of combat action lead Cael to believe that so long as they kept bagging up and flying out every few hours, command would be happy.

“Six hours,” he muttered, shaking his head, thinking of the times gone by when he would race for an hour at most then get the rest of the day - week, even - to himself.

“Just enough time for food and some rack time. What's on the menu today?” he added, with another glance at Kidd, who was usually a little more enthusiastic about these kinds of things than his counter-parts.

[Kidd Smix]

"Well, I did a quick recon earlier," he began, with a look of edgy paranoia, "I didn't get very far thanks to Captain Tightpants but by the smell of it... potato stew... again! Maybe it was fried fish. Either way, it stunk to high heaven so don't get your hopes up for the gourmet treatment."

Kidd sighed sadly, scuffing his heavy boots against the floor as he walked a step or two behind his comrades. Part of him wanted to retreat to the living quarters and give dinner a miss entirely but experience gave him the foresight to know that there's nothing worse than flying on an empty stomach, especially his, which proved particularly vocal during meetings with the CAG. No, he'd eat even if the food wasn't up to much. He had to be grateful for all that he had; he was a pilot in the Imperial Navy and how many people could say that? Millions, actually. But that wasn't the point.

"You know, guys, things might look bad now. We've had a rough few weeks but don't sweat it, you know? Back home we have a saying for times like these: if you sow your wild oats in the night be sure to pray for crop failure in the morning."

He nodded sagely.

[Kistra Dubreas]

The unsatisfying churn in her stomach was about the only reaction given to Smix's report. Kistra wasn't sure why she had even bothered to get her hopes up in the first place, it wasn't like any of them had had anything that could even remotely be described as a "decent meal" since they all had joined up, but it was nice to think that maybe someday it would be different.

Kidd's words of wisdom were met with a moderately abashed look and her cheeks flushed slightly. "Something tells me that doesn't quite apply here."

She left the thought go unsaid that he might have had a point in that if they all didn't shape up they probably were going to get screwed by command, but she felt ashamed for even thinking such a thing.

[Cael Bathala]

As they exited the hangar bay, the trio merged into the flow of foot-traffic that trickled steadily through the Kalidor's corridors. They passed other pilots who were not long off duty, and those who were already suited and waiting for their allotted hour. The hallways grew more cramped as they neared the mess hall, whose access hatch hung wide open, with four Bloodfin Squadron pilot's just leaving. One bumped against Cael as they strode by, without so much as a glance or an apology.

“We'll get better,” he said, shrugging off the collision. “Or die trying.”

[Kidd Smix]

"Naw," Kidd began with a nervous chuckle, "Can't say I'm one for dyin' too much."

The thought of it haunted him as they took their place in the canteen queue, it was the one aspect of being a pilot with which he'd not yet come to terms when most others, it seemed, regarded it as little more than an occupational hazard. He plunged his fidgeting hands deep into the pockets in his flight suit where he discovered a packet of gum. His mood lifted.

"Oh hey, Rosie, you're lookin' mighty pretty today. How's about an extra helping of- No? Okay then. Bye for now."

The Rosetta-500 catering droid had already started serving the next in line as Kidd turned away, assessing the portions of food on his tray.

"I figured out what it is, you know," he said as he joined his flightmates at a table, "Nerves. Cold hard nerves o' steel. I ain't got em. I can fly. I love to fly but when y'all start a-chatterin on the comms and whatnot, and the bosses are watchin an the pressures on... I get nervous. Guess I don't have that killer instinct yet."

He terminated his musing with a mouthful of stew.

[Kistra Dubreas]

The stew was... awful. Not that she had expected different. It always was awful and she always managed to choke it down. Smix was still talking, Kistra figured that had to be his way of working out those lack-of-nerves he was rambling on about. Though something struck her and she dragged her eyes away from the slop that somehow classified as food in front of her to look over at her flightmate.

"But you made it through the academy, you must have if you're here..." The stew was prodded idly with her spoon as she looked back towards it, her cheeks flushing just slightly again. "And I don't know about you, but some of those initial flight tests were the worst. I'll never forget the days before them... couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, there was one girl whom they flunked out because she started crying during the briefing. We weren't even in our flight suits yet. Makes all this just seem... well, not as bad."

[Cael Bathala]

Cael was still stirring his stew, mentally trying to talk himself up to eating it. The fact that it gave him an excuse not to look up and discuss the fact that he hadn't attended the academy was just a bonus. He dredged the depths of the bowl, lifting out a soggy clump of what might have been swampgrass.

“You ever hear about this ship before we came here?”

[Kidd Smix]

During the preliminary stages of dinner consumption, Kidd had stooped progressively lower over his tray of food, spooning in generous helpings before he could finish the last mouthful. Kistra talked about the academy and it was an issue upon which he didn't care to indulge discussion. Being stationed on the Kalidor was a fresh start, as had been his stint in Basic Flight, but the less said of that the better. Then Cael spoke and Kidd surfaced from the rancid fumes with sauce running down his chin. His eyebrow arched in wild confusion.

"I ain't heard nothin'," he muttered feebly, glancing to Kistra for support when the light of realisation gleamed in his eyes.

"Oh! Except this Vice Admiral Jonos of ours is a negroid, apparently. Whatever the heck that is, Moxley from Basic Flight said as much just before we left, but I ain't seen no alien officers walkin' round this ship, mind you. What planet are the negroids from anyhow?"

[Kistra Dubreas]

"A what?" Several coughs came before and after the outburst. Leave it to Smix to cause her to choke on something that was doing a good enough job of that by itself. She had been winning the battle with her lunch, damn him.

Her eyes turned to Cael, pleading for him to answer so that she wouldn't have to. After all, Bathala seemed to carry more weight with him being a somebody before they all had gotten into Basic. One thing was for sure though, her mind was far away from the academy again, at least.

[Cael Bathala]

“Moxley's full of phobium,” Cael muttered, giving his stew another restless stir before he pulled his fork out of the mess and pointed it at Smix, like a dart poised to throw.

“The Vice Admiral could be a walking, talking nerf-sausage for all it matters to you and me, Smix. He's the Vice Admiral and he's in charge, that's all we need to know.”

The fork was thrust back down into his stew, as Bathala shook his head. “Anyway, everyone says it's the Ex-Oh we should be worrying about.”

[Kidd Smix]

Deflated, Kidd sunk back into his stew, accepting Cael's reprimand. He was always so serious. No wonder he and his racing teammate didn't get along, he thought miserably. While he quietly slurped at his dinner, he saw Kistra eyeing hers with mutinous contempt, and smirked. He liked her. She was the counterbalance to Cael's straight-faced seriousness and his... stupidity.

"Uh-oh, here comes trouble..."

Bursting into the canteen with a chorus of hoots and whistles was a group of loutish pilots from Bloodfin Squadron. In high spirits, they ploughed through the queue unceremoniously, shoving the timid new replacements to one side. Kidd shook his head, beating back surfacing memories from high school.

"I don't know how they get away with it. Ain't seen nothin' like it in the navy before. Someone oughta teach those guys a lesson!"

A large bulbous hand suddenly planted itself on the table with a heavy thud. A shadow loomed over his dinner tray as the great gleaming head of Griffin Muldoon peered over his shoulder. His nostrils were assaulted by the stench of fresh sweat.

"What's that, Smix?" he said with rasping menace, "You want to teach us a lesson?"

The best Kidd could do was utter a few broken syllables before his words got lost in a stammering mess.

[Tiercel Habrok]

There was no hooting and whistling from Tiercel Habrok. He straggled in behind the rest of the Bloodfin's at a distance, the only thing linking him to them being the patch on the chest of his uniform. Habrok wasn't a pilot, and so the privilege of strutting about with the squadron was not something he was entitled to enjoy. Fortunately, the young gunner wasn't in interested that, though the fact that people like Muldoon had passed Basic Flight and he had failed... well, that never stopped sucking.

[Kistra Dubreas]

She tried to shrink away, tried to make herself as unnoticeable as possible, even if anyone in their right mind could have told her that she was one out of three and therefore stuck out just as bad as they did.

But Smix was in trouble, and damn it, he was in her flight. The three of them looked out for one another as best they could while in their TIEs, why did that have to end when they were walking around on deck? The rest of Hellfire wasn't much better than they were, heck, she was sure Red flight was actually worse somehow.

Kistra took a deep breath and kept her eyes down as she placed a hand on the back of her neck, taking one nervous nip at her bottom lip and another deep breath before finally speaking up, her voice just barely audible to those near.

"Muldoon, he didn't mean it like that..."

[Cael Bathala]

Cael cast a casual glance up at the Bloodfin's. His eyes met with leader of the groups' leering gaze for the barest instant. Just as quick, and just as casual, he looked back down into his food. He heaped a spoonful into his mouth and through chews, asked:

“Somethin' we can help you with, Muldoon?”

[Kidd Smix]

"H-hey Griff! Heh-how was the ga-hame?"

There was something about his flightmates chiming in for him that equipped him with courage, a timid fleeting fart of courage. He craned his neck and gave Griffin a nervous smile, who in return snorted hot vapour down his ear.

"Why ask? The Bloodinfin Bloodhounds never lose. It's called winning, something you and your sorry excuse for a squadron wouldn't understand."

"Well, uh, now you mention it, I was on the school wegsphere team, and, uh, we won ourselves a couple o' games, heh!"

"Cleaning jockstraps doesn't count, Dick Smix. But then again..."

The wicked glimmer faded from Griffin's eyes and he suddenly squatted, resting a large hand on Kidd's shoulder, who yelped, and addressed the table in an excited undertone.

"That's not a bad idea! A game! You guys versus the Bloodhounds! What do you say, Princess?" he asked, throwing a painfully condescending glance at Kistra, "Maybe you could teach us a lesson after all. HAHAHA!"

He rose to his full height, and tilted his head, looking down the length of his crooked nose at Cael, he added, "Oh, and Crotch Rocket, keep your boy Smix in line. You rejects look bad enough!"

He turned to leave, mussing Kidd's hair into wild array.

[Kistra Dubreas]

Kistra couldn't help but look away and down as Muldoon's eyes had set on her, frowning as he called her Princess. Her head only raised once he had left and that was to glance at her flightmates.

"They can't be serious."

Wedgesphere? Against the Bloodhounds? Them? Sure Kistra had seen the game before, but actually play it? And up against a team that had probably several years of experience?

Her eyes quickly shot to lock with Kidd's. If any of the trio would have jumped at the chance it would be him.

"While I'm all for a fun game to kill some time... You... you aren't even beginning to consider this, are you? They'll kill us!"

[Cael Bathala]

“You keep that up, Muldoon,” Cael cut in, shaking his spoon at Griffin as a scolding parent would waggle their finger at a child. Though the carefree air still clung to him, there was a cold edge in Bathala's eyes. “And you'll be shitting stainless steel.”