Want a donut with that?

[Henry McDonnaught]

Henry, or Hank as he was more generally known, or, if you like, "Donut" to his buddies and comrades in arms, shuffled into the Echo bar and stood for a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dark interior.

Geez he was dog-tired, and after a minute or two of gazing around without really taking notice of any detail, remembered that he was supposed to be looking for some place to sit.

To his right a server was clearing off a just-vacated table. Good enough. Plodding over, the girl had barely wiped the spills and broken peanut shells off the table surface before Henry fell into the seat.

"Corellian ale" he said, rubbing his hand vigorously around the top of his head making his hair stick out at impossible angles.

He'd just got into base, and would officially start his new assignment with Rogue squadron at 0500 hours in the AM. His furlough had been cancelled, his new boots hadn't arrived in time for last nights departure from Delta base and his eyelids felt like he had sandpaper on the insides of 'em.

Belatedly, he thought he'd order some cheesefries, but the server was already halfway across the bar. Frell.

Slumping lower in his seat, Henry shut his eyes and contemplated sleeping in the bar to save himself having to move again.

[Kelly Perris]

Gods, I could sure use a drink. Sims weren't at all peachy keen today, not to mention the run-around one of the techs, Yari, gave me in the ring. I knocked that cocky kid a few good ones though, and we were all squared in the end. Still, a good stiff drink is about all I want right now, and the closest place bein' Echo Bar...well, why not? Some of the best medicine for sore muscles.

Hey, ain't that the fresh meat?

So I walks up to the guy and thwap 'em one over the head. Falling asleep when you could be drinking? I can't have that, man..

"Yo, new guy. No snoozin' in the bar. Bar's for drinkin'.." Speaking of which... "Hey Ral...I'll have the usual. Bloody stiff as it comes." Damn barkeep and his fritzed memory. "Whaddya mean you don't remember? Never mind, fuzzbrain. I'll just have a sullustian gin."

It ain't often that i'll settle for anything less than whatever'll knock me outta my boots, But maybe using my apparently genius mind is on the menu tonight, because I wanna be coherent tomorrow. Co-her-ent. Ral sent over my request, and I just gave him a somewhat grateful smile. At least I was gettin' a drink. Finally, taking a seat at the table seemed like a decent idea. So, y'know,I did. Damn, I hate how just getting off my feet will tell me how tired I am. Oh, the gin. Ahh, just what the doctor ordered. Or some fair approximation...

"So, where'd you come from, sunshine?"

[Henry McDonnaught]

Waking up with a jolt, the twi'lek triplets were yanked abruptly from his sleep-deprived brain and Henry swung his head upright, blinking at his surroundings, trying to place just exactly where he was.

Oh yeah...

Some joker plumped himself down in the seat accross from him and was saying...something.

McDonnaught made great effort to focus his bleary eyes and sit up a little straighter.

"Hi, Im -- Wait...did you hit me?"

[Kelly Perris]

Halfway down my glass of gin [which was feeling pretty darn good, I might add], the sleeper finally woke up. Haha, Did I hit him? Depends on your definition of hit, buddy. And that wasn't a hit, 'less you got a headache. Just a heavy tap with my fingers.

"Nah. That wasn't a hit. You wanna know what a hit is, you should join me in the ring sometime. That is, if you grapple barehand..."

Figure I might as well offer the guy a handshake, and my name. That seems to comfort most. Unless you don't care for names - then it can get pretty nasty. Believe me, I know from experience.

"Kelly Perris. All the other jocks call me Hot Mama. There's a small story behind that...Now where'd you crawl outta the woodwork from, and what do ya answer to?"

[Henry McDonnaught]

"Hank McDonnaught" (the "t" was silent) and Henry took the offered hand, shaking it briefly but firmly. "Callsign 'Donut' " and to elaborate, pointed to his surname printed on his flightsuit shoulder. Then he took up his mug of Corelian ale. Yeah, that helped.

"I just finished the transport run from Delta base" (an unglorious detail of protecting supply ships in the Arrow quadrant), "and I've been assigned to Rogue Squadron. Gotta hook up with Commander..."(Henry went fishing for the name in the fogpond of his memory)".. er Kivick, something like that"


He riffled through his breast pocket and pulled out a scrap peice of paper, on which he'd had the forethought to scratch down Rogue leader's name. He held it close to his eyes, then at armslength and slowly brought it back in as his weary eyes adjusted.

"..er Commander Milivikal k'Vik. Reporting to him in the morning"

[Kelly Perris]

Watching Donut drink, I smirked. Poor guy's so tired...A drink or two oughta shut out his lights nicely, and only make me jealous. The guy'll get a better set of Z's than me. Everyone does. Damn it, I hate being an insomniac.

"That's a she, Donut Boy. Drink up, I'll buy the next one if ya find yourself wantin'."

Speaking of drink, my glass was empty.

"Hey Ral! Another!" I shouted, shaking my empty glass in the vacant air. "Make it a double this time."

[Henry McDonnaught]

"She, yeah, thats what I meant" Henry lifted up his hand and gave the server a nod - he'd take another too. "And its just Donut" he corrected mildly.

He took another gulp of beer and squinted over at Perris, "So really, k'Vik's a dame? No kiddin'." This seemed to throw McDonnaught into a thoughtful slouch.

How could he have missed that one? Shoot...just when ya think things are looking up, you realise its just that you're falling in the other direction.

His last assignment had been less than glorious - as anyone who's ever served a transport run knows. And the Arrow quandrant is one of the worst. The route was safe as houses. The chance of seeing action, or distinguishing one's self was a hiccup on the wrong side of zero. McDonnaught had been "transferred" there by request from someone higher up -- some'ones infuriated father, higher up, to be exact -- to teach ol' flying donut a lesson. He'd never forgive Alison for playing that card. Cost him six months of mind-numbing boredom and put him on the fasttrack to absolutely no place no whereville.

Henry had had his fill of dames. And superior officers where the worst, 'specialy if a guy had a reputation..

The drinks arrived and Hank muttered "thanks" to Perris, moving his now empty glass over for the new full one.

"You fly with k'Vik do ya?" He was almost afraid to ask.

[Kelly Perris]

I scratched my head, laughing.

"Nah. The boss?...A fair bit scarce, it seems. I've flown with the rest of the squadron though, the short time I've been here."

Got pretty silent for a minute or two after that. My reasoning as to how I got here wasn't a happy place in my books. Every time I think about it, I wanna drink heavy. Real heavy. Drown the night away in the bottle and the booty. That particular urge was comin' on strong right about now. One heavy gulp, and I put the glass down.

"Most of the squad is a fun-lovin' bunch. Not all bad, but you'll have to make your judgements when you meet 'em."

[Jamo Jakatta]

The door to the Echo swung open, and a young man in a flight jacket walked in towards the bar. Along the way, he passed by Perris and a face he didn't recognize, and shot the former a smirk. “Pace yourself, Kelly,” he sniped, with a nod to the half-empty glass the pilot was nursing, before turning his back and stepping up to the bar proper. He nodded to the bartender and glanced along the row of expensive wall-mounted bottles behind the counter. “I'll take a whiskey.”

[Kelly Perris]

Ahh, Jam-Jams. Are you trying to issue me a challenge? Buddy, you just lightened my mood.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Jamo." I returned, all the while grinning. "This is only my second one. I mean, I suppose I could be all nice and fair and let you catch up..."

I took another sip, then leaned back in my seat, crossing my arms. A smirk ever so slightly induced by the drink was smeared quite well across my mouth.

"...accourse, unless you were planning on just having a nice little drink and then heading off to la-la land."

[Henry McDonnaught]

Hank followed the banter between Perris and the newcomer - another face, another name he'd need to learn.

Being the new guy really blew. Except for the beer. The new guy usually got bought alot of beer.

Hank smiled despite his weariness.

[Jamo Jakatta]

Glass in hand, Jamo joined the pair at their table. He sat perched on the back of the chair opposite Perris, his feet on the seat itself. He looked between the two, one bleary eyed, the other a smirking drunk. “You two make a cute couple, you know?” He took a sip of his whiskey, and motioned the tumbler towards the new guy. “Perris... aren't going to introduce me to your date?”

[Sergeant Michael Brand]

From the far end of the bar, Sergeant Brand shook his head at the battle of the egos, muttered, "Pilots," and threw back his shot of Rebo Sorinsky's single-malt.

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly stood up from the creaky seat, and gave Jamo deep puppydog eyes, one hand planted daintily on his chest, the other holding the gin out wide.

"Aww, Jam-Jams. Sweetie, baby...You know you're my only love. How could you ever think I would desire anyone else? Perish the thought!" A small laugh. Seems he's in fine form tonight. Made a gesture to Donut with his drinking hand, to make an introduction. "This here's Henry McDonnaught. Y'all should be knowin' him as Donut. Donut, that barrel o' ewoks there is Jamo Jakatta. Better known as Joker, as i'm sure you can see why..."

Splashing the back of his mouth with the remaining gin in the short glass, Hot Mama gingerly [or at least attempting gentleness, what with the fuzziness the drink induced..] set the glass down on the table just as the server was passing by.

"Oi, I'll be having what the court jester here is havin'..."

[Henry McDonnaught]

"Joker" Henry acknowledged in greeting, tossing an amused and puzzled look to Jamo at Kelly's antics. Henry laughed.

"Is he always like this?"

[Jamo Jakatta]

“Only on the good days. It's like he's permanently drunk.”

As Perris flailed trying to get the server-droids attention, Jakatta asked: “So, what did you do ?”

'Donut' looked a little confused, so Jamo added, in clarification: “I mean, you must have done something terrible to get transferred here. No one actually wants to be part of Rogue Squadron.”

[Henry McDonnaught]

Hank grinned embarressedly, "Believe it or not, it's a step up from what I've been doin -- transport run outta Delta" Jamo's sympathetic grimace said it all. "Yeah, thanks. So Im hopin' Im gonna see a bit more action with Rogues. You think that likely..?"

[Kelly Perris]

"I am not drunk, Jamo. You have not seen drunk yet." Kelly plinked a small ice cube off Joker's head, then plopped down in his seat again, leaning heavily on the table. "The fact that that ice cube just knocked you across the head should be enough proof. Now, I wantcha to think 'bout that query of yours for a second, Donut. There's that whole hubbub about the life expectancy of us 'fighter pilots being short n' all. Well, the ones that were either unfortunate, stupid or both...Those of us that are still here so far are either smiled upon by the gods, or we's just bein' toyed with."

He sat up again, propping his back against the back of the chair, just as the serv-droid came by with a whiskey and plucked his old glass from the tabletop.

"I'm opting for the latter."

[Jamo Jakatta]

“Action? Believe me, we've got action up to the eyeballs. The only reason I'm here is because some farmboy hick got himself dusted on the last run-in with Shadow Squadron.” Evidently, there had been no mourning on Jamo's part for the loss of the previous members of the squadron. “They like to keep us on our toes. Never a dull day.”

[Henry McDonnaught]

"I dunno much about gods and stuff. All I know is if you're good, your'e good. Now, I cant speak for you Perris, but Im real good."
He turned to Jamo with mock seriousness, "What about you, Joker, you good?"

[Kelly Perris]

"Yeah, and he lets it go to his head." Kelly snickered. "Joker here's a real star."

To that, Perris raised his glass, gave a short nod and a cocky grin, then took in a large gulp of the liquid that filled the glass.

"I don't believe in gods, Donut. Just a figure of speech, man. I'm good, too. Stupendous, in fact."

[Henry McDonnaught]

"Stupendous" Henry acted duly impressed and pulled his 'Im impressed' face.

These guys seemed pretty good, he thought to himself as he watched Perris and Joker jibing goodnaturedly back and forth. A team that could at least stand one another was a good team, a team that actually liked each other, now that was a real good sign.

Maybe Hank had finally done something right and landed on his feet. That'd be a switch.

Henry's fatigue was fading and he hailed another beer. That, of course, was a delusion. The body could not funtion indefinitely on zero sleep. What was that saying? Sleep when yer dead.

Yeah, Donut would sleep when he was dead.

"Better bring a couple all round" he called after the obedient droid.

[Jamo Jakatta]

“I take it we're pulling an all-nighter, then?” Jamo smirked. “Goody.” There was a little whiskey still left in his glass, which he knocked back in one. It tickled back of his throat and he made a show of the shudder that wriggled up his spine.

“So... what's your story, Donut? Got any exciting skeletons in the closet?”

[Henry McDonnaught]

"Well, I'll be here til I down this one" he confirmed to Jamo as with miraculous speed another beer was making its way over to him by the droid. By the look, the droid was neglecting the big burly sergent at the bar in order to keep the trio at the table well lubricated.

"And nooo, I got no skeletons, none whatever" Donut didnt sound too convincing with this last.

[Kelly Perris]

"That's crock, Donut. Everyone's got squelettes."

Kelly killed the remaining whiskey from his glass just as a beer was delivered in front of him. He gave the serv-droid a nod of appreciation, before turning back to the guys.

"I mean, even I got 'em. Mine reside in how I came to be here. Was just assigned to an new imp squadron, about a year previous to Alderaan going poofski. I've been scratching the sky and bustin' a move across the stars pretty well every second I could from the moment my old man would allow it. So, my parents were visiting my sister at the university on Alderaan the day it happened." He took a drink with that statement. "I just flew, buried myself in work, not letting on that the destruction of that world got to me at all."

Another small gulp rushed down his gob.

"Beers good, by the way. Thanks." With that, a gulp was taken. "Anyways, I got sick of moping about in secret, but man, I was still pissed. Went and knocked some shiny white helmets together, which I gotta say sedates unpleasurable feelings somewhat nicely, and I made a run for it. Offered myself up here, and i've been pestering imps with the other rogues about the same amount of time as Jamo, give or take a few days or weeks or something. The last long while's been a blur 'til recently."

Kelly shifted a glance between his companions.

"Joker? Donut? Come on, one'ov you two is next."

[Jamo Jakatta]

“You know that I don't have any skeletons in my closet, Perris. Just lots of shoes,” Jamo replied, his lips pursed into a tight smile. He rubbed his palms together quickly, then held them up as if in surrender. “I'm squeaky clean.”

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly tried so hard to keep a serious face, and shook his head when he started to laugh.

"Jamo, if I didn't meet you and met your closet instead, I could have sworn you were a woman. Shoes? For seriousness, man. What's the point of so many shoes? I have no more than ten pairs...." A 'you hypocrite' type grin began to parade itself on Jamo's face.

"Shut up, Jamo. Every pair has a reason - None of those reasons being a pair of every colour to match my outfits - Unlike YOU, madame." And to that, Kelly Perris made a most immature and retortful face. "So...so there. HA!"

[Henry McDonnaught]

Alderaan was a bummer. But somehow, that comment didnt really seem appropriate given Perris' story, so Donut refrained. Too bad to lose family like that. Certainly would make a guy rethink just what the heck he was doin with his life.

For Hank though, it had always been pretty clear. Fighting for the Rebel Alliance was all he'd ever wanted to do - he'd known it since he was a kid. He used to play fighter pilots with Becky Stradowski and Will Motton, the neighbourhood kids. It was hilarious listening to Becky try to make the appropriate laser cannon noises by rolling her tongue all weird and sputtering like a landed fish. And to watch her crash and burn in a madcap spiral - that girl would spin and spin and spin until even he and Will felt dizzy watchin her. They used to bet pod-racer cards on when she'd up and puke. But she never did.

"I dont know..dont think any o' my stories could compare with Jamo's penchant for co-ordinating footwear. A toast then! To shoes!"

[Kelly Perris]

"Yeah! To SHOES!! SHOOOOOOOOES!!"

Kelly raised his glass and clinked with Donut. He seemed like a good guy on his feet...or rather, his seat, but it remained to be seen if he was up to snuff when painted over the big black nowhere. There would be a time, likely soon, that Henry would get a chance to prove his worth, and until that time they could just be the jesters that they were. The men of Rogue Squadron were the finest at what they did.

"So...Donut? You lookin' forward to spinnin' with us out there, man?"

[Henry McDonnaught]

"Im itchin to do some real flyin. Babysitting transports pays the bills, but isn't exactly what I signed up for."


Dang Alison. He'll never forgive her for that.

He already cursed her in his mind tonight, he knew. And that was only two so far. She usually weighed in around five or six times a day. He must be getting over it, he figured. Bout time.

"Anything on the grapevine you guys heard of? Any thing comin our way?"

[Jamo Jakatta]

“Unfortunately we don't get to hear about the good stuff until we're jumping into the cockpit.”

Jamo gave a sigh, far more dramatic than necessary.

“We don't really mix with the grunts and the spies, so we're out of the loop... but I like it that way.”

[Henry McDonnaught]

That was true, flyboy's did a whole lotta sittin around, then got enough action for a lifetime compressed into some insane mission, then back to sittin around. If you were lucky enough to come back, that is. Sure, there was flight simulation, training, more training, but metaphorically it was sitting around holding your johnson until someone needed some Imperials dead.

But Donut wasn't complaining. He was here, and that was enough right now.

"Do they even have spooks here on base?"

Henry started looking around. Maybe there were some sitting right here with them. He never liked spies, shifty characters the lot of 'em.

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly's head jerked around, following whereever Donut looked. The mere mention of spooks caught his interest, because truthfully, he'd never seen them around. Which got him to thinkin'...Why in creation would someone be as uppity and secretive about his downtime as he was about his work life? It just didn't make sense. The base was pretty damn secure. The flyboy, looking a little more bleary than when this alcoholic escapade started leaned really close to his new teammate across the table, and whispered in an almost conspiratorial tone, like he were whispering sweet nothings to a ghost.

"T'be honest, I ain't never seen 'em. They seem'ta take pride n' bein' all mysterious-like. Kinda childish t'be doin' it all tha time, dontcha think?"

Kelly smirked, and took another clean little sip of his drink from the cold highball glass as he leaned back into his chair and crossed his arms over one another, the hand holding the glass coming out on top.

"I mean, reel-eh. Us jocks get tiresome of each other's company from time t'time. It'd be nice to see who else we work for or with, for once."

[Henry McDonnaught]

"They stick to their business, and I'll stick to mine" came Donut's unequivocal response. He liked battlelines that were clear and unclouded. Spies just blurred all that up.

"Leave the skullduggery to the sneaky buggers, I say. Just tell me where to shoot, thats all I need t' know"

[Kelly Perris]

"Amen."

Perris lazily lifted the glass to his mouth, took a quick gulp, and down the 'chalice' went again.

"Y'ar probably right. They're called spooks for a reason. Sure to be watchin' us, they are...but they don't seem to be big on minglin'."

Swirl, went the glass. His sister had been all for the secretive stuff. Kelly stared hard down at the liquid, then glanced back up at the other two. He cracked an insignificant half-grin, more like a careless smirk. He sat up proper, and placed the glass carefully on the tabletop.

"I guess what we do is pretty uncomplicated, huh? We're fortunate that way."