Joiner

[Kelly Perris]

Afternoon after The Best Star Pilot in the Galaxy (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20040); five days before Kick the Tires and Light the Fires (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20244)<o></o>.
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Losing a pilot is always hard. Just as hard on the members of the squadron, maybe a little harder on their leader. They were all responsible for watching each other’s six and overall, Commander Perris was responsible for everybody. It was felt as some sort of personal failing whenever he lost a pilot, though comparatively to other squadrons, their percentages of loss were rather low. It had – thankfully, mercifully - remained as such since Endor. Little of it had to do with luck. Most of it was skill, but a healthy dose of luck could have prevailed in bringing the Rogues through some of those times. Luck, it seems, did not cover the whole squadron. <o>
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Oddly enough, it must have had a hand in bringing him a replacement so quickly for the pilot lost. Though, now, he needed a couple more, what with Monkey and Twitch being called away for different assignments. He was assured that the positions would be filled. It was disconcerting running a man short, much less three. He was by no means quick to accept loss and accept replacement, as no one pilot could truly replace another. No two pilots were exactly matched in skill. But he had to take what he could get.<o></o>
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Last night had shown him just what he was getting. <o></o>
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Carré Inirial – Former Imperial, Survivor of Alderaan… The information in the file went on, almost scathing in its familiarity to his own file, which he finally had the privilege of viewing upon attaining his present position. After the whole scuffle of the evening before, Perris had taken the time to read further into the file, more than just the name and photo. His little tirade that most every pilot that joined after his ascension to command went through had been an utter mistake in the way he went about it with her. A fellow survivor. He could only just imagine what Leela would say to his treatment. Maybe it was just women. Who knows?<o></o>
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Aboard the Valiant, Kelly had been accorded a quarters/office split. The only disadvantage to this was that he could never truly get away from his work when he needed rest from it. It made do, well enough. The shared quarters accorded to the squadron were as he’d remembered them. This wasn’t his first time aboard the Valiant and he wouldn’t be surprised if it wasn’t the last. Nostalgia, however, wished for a more concrete home base assignment for the Squadron. There was little to be done about it, though. Orders were orders. Looking up from the file, he glanced at the small chrono at the corner of his desk (it read 1150hrs), then at the door. He had left a comm. message for her, first thing in the morning to inform her of their meeting. She still had time to get here, before she would be late.<o></o>
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He almost counted on her being late. Everyone had the same night in the cantina. Everyone was always late on their Squadron Induction Day.

[Carré Inirial]

My closets back home were bigger than this...

It was the prevailing thought that chased itself around her half-alert mind, comfortably curled up in a pile of warm bedding. Comfortable in spite of the dull ache of her head and jaw, that reminded her rather archly of the previous evening. No better way to introduce yourself to the people you're joining than to get into a fight with one of them.

A vastly more irritating than he was good looking pilot, Sanis got on her last nerve in record time for someone she'd just met. Of course, Carré refused to admit that her at times prodigious temper might have had a little to do with it.

Or alot to do with it.

Burrowing under the covers, the young woman lost track of time until the insistant beeping of her comm finally registered. A hand darted out, feeling along the floor where her things had scattered until she found the blasted device and picked it up. Emerald eyes blinked as they struggled to focus on the tiny screen, its tiny red lights fluttering madly in alarm.

Meeting...Commander Perris...1200hrs...office...

Carré found herself caught between a sense of elation and a sense of dread, wondering if this meant she finally had a spot on a squadron, or if last night was going to come back to haunt her. Even if it was, she mused, scrolling through the message again, she sure as hell wasn't going to apologize for it.

Noting the location of his office at the end of the message, she flipped the comm back to its chrono function and paled. 1145hrs...she was going to be late no matter what. She fought her way out of the mass of covers she was under and changed into clean clothes quickly, thankful she'd taken a hot shower before she'd collapsed into bed the night before. Fingers pulled a comb through her curls and arranged them in a neat twist secured with pins. A fitted white shirt, black pants, and a pair of boots later, she was ready to go.

With less than five minutes to go, Carré bolted out of the tiny temp space she'd been allotted and headed for the nearest turbolift. Twice she stopped to ask for and verify directions, not wishing to add getting lost to the laundry list of things she likely had to answer for at this point. At nearly ten minutes past her appointed time, she finally emerged into the proper hallway and tucked the commlink into her back pocket.

Lifting her left hand, as her right was still a bit tender, she knocked on the door and waited.

[Kelly Perris]

The door open on its own, without any command, it seemed. It didn't matter where he was stationed when receiving a recruit, the door was rigged that way. He did it himself. It was the same routine, every time. The same hurting, tender, hangover'd knock. Only this time, it was just a little softer than usual, but the sensors picked up on it and the door gave entry to her.

"You're late."

Those were the first words out of his mouth and he sounded about as displeased as he could sound without being angry or taking it personally. Just enough to say that she was late and he didn't want to see it again. To add insult to injury, he didn't even look up from the file. Her file. He glanced up through the topmost point his eyes would go to look on her. After a few seconds, he raised his head completely and lowered the file to lay open on the desk.

"Well come in, Miss Inirial. We don't have all day and the whole ship doesn't need to hear this." He gestured her, lightly, as he insisted she enter, following his hand through to close the file as she finally stepped in and he placed his hands, palms down, over top of the file as she approached, his eyes following her with a look that wasn't pleased, nor displeased, but most definitely full of scrutiny. He laced his fingers, only undoing them to gesture for her to take a seat, only to lace them again.

[Carré Inirial]

Spectacular way to get off on the wrong foot.

Oh shut up. That was last night.

Ahh yes...Temper 1, Carré 0...wasn't even a close game.

Enough already...I've just heard it from Commander Perris, I don't need to hear it from myself.

Awww...

In the midst of the silent argument in her own mind, she stepped forward into the Commander's office. The door whooshed closed behind her with relative silence, leaving her a precise ten steps away from the lone chair before his desk. His tone left little to be misunderstood - were she late again, there would most certainly be repercussions. With some measure of trepidation, she noted that it was her file in his hands and wondered what all had ended up in there.

There were some few moments in her past, like last night, that she wasn't exactly proud of.

Carré took the proffered seat, sitting slightly forward, her posture formal and stiff. Hands folded neatly together in her lap, while her emerald gaze trailed along the edge of the file now sitting innocently on his desk.

[Kelly Perris]

He watched the young woman seat herself. Young woman? He wasn't getting that old, was he? Perris simply smiled, though not too much. Just the slightest upturning of the lips. Scant politeness. Or, perhaps, a small pleasure at a bidding done. An indiscernible expression.

"Sleep well?"

An odd question, one that appeared to be out of concern until you caught the tone. It was rhetorical, nothing more than a formality. He hardly gave pause enough for her to answer before forging forward.

"So, my understanding is that you intend to join this squadron, Miss Inirial." A statement, not asking for response at all. At this point and perhaps for the duration, he controlled the conversation. For the moment, quite one-sided. He took in her face, her expression, the fatigue, hangover and everything that would have come from the previous night.

"Tell me, then. What gives you even the faintest hope that you will be accepted? What do you think you can bring to Rogue Squadron?" Again a smile; it was hardly warm. "And don't try to impress me with your answers. It's not out of self interest that I ask."

[Carré Inirial]

I have been awake for a grand total of thirty minutes, and the man has managed to annoy me...I'm not normal.

Everyone annoys you.

Well, yes, but not everyone is my prospective Commander, with whom icicles would apparently fare better on Tattooine.

He's doing it on purpose, you idiot. Get your head out of your ass and wake up, would you?

You're a frakkin' bitch first thing in the morning, you know that, right?

And you're still talking to yourself.

Carré opened her mouth to speak, then thought better of it, taking a deep breath instead and expelling it slowly. It gave her a moment to focus herself, and cleared some of the lingering cobwebs from her mind. Though it did not lessen her deep seated desire to snap back with a sharp, caustic retort. There'd be a time and place for that, but now was most definitely not it.

Glad that little bit of self-preservation was still intact, she met and held the Commander's gaze. A delicate brow arched as her voice finally emerged, a bit softer and far less edgy than it had been the night before. Perhaps it was the exhaustion...the lingering effects of the spiced ale she'd been persuaded to try...or the fact that she was being considered for the Rogues.

"I have hope that I'll be accepted because I've spent the last six years of my life sabotaging the Imperial Navy as best I could. I didn't leave when they destroyed Alderaan, I stayed one year for each of my murdered brothers, in the hopes that I could visit on them even the smallest percentage of the agony I've lived with every day since. I would have stayed longer, except they were beginning to catch on...four weeks ago, in a maneuver over Telos, we were ambushed. Picked up coded comm chatter in the middle of the fight between my Commander and his wingman...I was going to be questioned by the Inquisitoriate when we went back to base. If I even made it back. I had to shoot down two of my squadron mates before I could make a run for it."

Her fingers had twisted together tightly, knuckles white with the tension that didn't appear anywhere else in her features or her posture. Another deep breath, and another moment to gather her scattered thoughts, the fatigue remaining in her voice.

"I'm a damn good pilot, Commander. I bring a solid skill set and practical, recent experience of flying with the enemy. They've murdered everyone that ever mattered to me...I want the chance the chance for revenge while I try to atone for the damage I was forced to do in their name. That's why I'm here."

Belatedly, she realized that her little speech didn't exactly answer his questions, and fervently wished for a cup of stimcaf.

[Kelly Perris]

He sat back, thinking on her words, lifting the file from the desktop and pulling open a drawer, slipping the file in and pushing the drawer shut. Then he leaned forward over the desk again, lacing his fingers.

"I left when Alderaan was lost." He admitted this, right to her face. His choice didn't make him any better than her, nor did hers make her any better than him. Perris settled back in to his seat, resting one arm on an arm rest, the other went to propping up his head. Thinking on that period of time in his life was always a weary thing. He considered the new recruit with his eyes, saying nothing at all for a good few moments. "And I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there's nothing that can atone for what people like us have done."

Kelly cleared his throat and sat up.

"Two years as a student at Carida, two years an instructor. Six with the elite Shadow Squadron. And the last six...." He paused. "...no, almost seven, now, with this squadron. That's a long time for a pilot to survive, Miss Inirial. A damn long time. You think you can do this squadron good and survive?"

He knew that was something no-one could promise or give their word on. It was almost a trick question. Almost.

[Carré Inirial]

"I...know."

She sighed softly, the words emerging in Alderaanian, slender shoulders slumping a bit. It was likely her idealistic side that kept hoping she'd be able to cleanse herself of that taint. Someday. In spite of her rational side knowing that there was nothing in the 'verse that could ever wash her hands of what she'd done in the name of the Empire.

Instead of dwelling, the Commander continued, a fact for which she was infinitely grateful. Emerald eyes still dulled by memory rose to meet his as his words trailed off, leaving a question to hang between them.

"Longer than we're supposed to survive, according to the statistics. I can't promise you I'll survive, Commander...but I know I can do this squadron good for as long as I do manage to screw over the fates." Carré offered an almost feral smile along with the slightly softer words than before. She'd have grinned wickedly if her head didn't feel like there was a herd of Jawa trying to dig their way out with a spoon.

[Kelly Perris]

He nodded, seeming about as satisfied as he could be with any answer to that question. Losing pilots never got easier. The facade of it being easier only got easier to put on. Bottling it up, according to some psychologist or another, was never good for anyone. Let them be damned. He had his own ways of dealing with it that worked just fine. Still, he was somewhat charmed by her answer.

"Yes, we are in that business. Pulling the wool over the eyes of fate." Perris gave a crooked smile. "The truth is, men and women like ourselves shouldn't exist, if it's all by luck. My luck should have run out by now, but... it's skill, isn't it? And I suppose you won't be able to prove skill to me by flashing test scores in my face."

He mulled that over for a time.

"But you survived the Empire. I may very well have nearly shot you out of the black myself a couple of times, at least, if that is at all a discomforting thought. On the other hand, it would be a testament to your potential skill."

He smiled genuinely, then. Pretty girls like her deserved more smiles just for being pretty alone.

"I guess with all that being said... I should welcome you to the squadron?"

[Carré Inirial]

"The only thing test scores prove are an aptitude for learning. You can't measure a pilot with them. The only important number in a pilot's file should be how many times they make it back alive from a mission."

Still sitting formally, she relaxed the tiniest fraction as her aching ribs protested, sliding back in the chair to lean a bit and alleviate the pressure. The pain lessened fractionally, leaving her able to at least breathe properly. Which was a lovely development.

"Come to think of it, Sir...having seen the Rogue ships in their hangar, I know of one instance for certain. It was over Gerrard V...our Lieutenant defected in the middle of the dogfight. I took heavy damage from a tail I just couldn't shake towards the end." she smiled faintly, her expressioning blossoming into a wide, genuine smile in response to his.

"That would be nice, because then I could say thank you and offer an apology for letting last night get so out of hand."

[Kelly Perris]

Delete this post, please.

[Kelly Perris]

He found himself agreeing with her. There were so, so, so many things in a pilot's file. All kinds of statistics, including the survival rate percentage. She was right, though. That particular percentage was really all that mattered, all that everything came down to and if she was sitting in front of him here, having gone through as many years of a similar experience as he had nearly seven years before, then that was something.

"Alright then." He stood and reached across the desk, holding out his right hand. "Welcome to Rogue Squadron, Flight Officer Inirial."

He allowed himself to really smile then as she put her smaller hand in his and in his mind, he remarked on the soft feel of it that said virtually nothing of her chosen occupation. Of course, that lead his mind to other things and well, that simply couldn't be helped. Being a man, it was entirely normal. Being she was a great-looking woman... well, it was entirely normal.

[Carré Inirial]

"Thank you, sir. I don't have the words to express how much I appreciate this chance."

Carré replied with warmth and pleasure in her tone. She rose as soon as he did, priding herself in the fact that even though her ribs protested mightily, she didn't let it show.

At least, she didn't think she did. But she couldn't read the man's mind, and as hers was still rather muddled, she let it go for the time being.

Emerald eyes lingered over his features, her smile warming to match the sudden flush in her cheeks as she realized she was staring. And the skin of her hand was tingling as it lingered in his. But he didn't pull away, and she wasn't yet willing to. Did the man have to be so infernally hot?

Stunned by her strong reaction to him, Carré stepped back and with slightly obvious reluctance withdrew her hand. And hoped to all the gods that he'd attribute her reaction to the vicious hangover she was dealing with. Well, maybe not all of it.

She cleared her throat softly and was thankful her voice emerged at all, even breathy as it was. "I am sorry things got so completely out of hand last night...apparently I need to learn to ignore Mr. Prent. Or throw better punches. I'm not sure which would have been better."

Flustered much?

Oh shut up.

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly shook his head and laughed, dropping his hand as she withdrew hers, albeit much like she didn't wish to, lingering. A small thing that caught his interest. He would lock that little tidbit away for later use.

"Well, Prent was looking for a fight. He usually is. He's abrasive, outrageous, shameless... and honestly, nobody else could ever be Sanis Prent. Thank the Force for that. One of him is enough. Sometimes too much." He gestured again for her to sit down as he turned to a small refrigeration unit that he had somehow been blessed with and pulled out a bottle of juice, followed by retrieving one of the glasses that sat on top of the unit to empty some of the juice into that glass. Then he looked quizically at her, as if to ask whether she wanted some, raising the bottle to show what he meant and furthermore, speaking again.

"So, tell me about yourself." He looked at her and smiled, moving his glass to the desk. "Off the record."

[Carré Inirial]

"I can certainly agree with that sentiment...a second Sanis might rupture the fabric of the 'verse." Carré grinned, thankful for his permission to retake her seat. She sank into the chair this time, lifting a hand to press tightly against her forehead, and wish for the gumption to break protocol and smack her head on the corner of his desk.

It -had- to feel better than her hangover did.

The young woman nodded at his offer of juice, catching his movement as she finally shifted her hand from her field of vision. Accepting the proffered glass with a soft 'thank you' she tried to ignore the fact that her fingers brushed his...and failed at it.

"Off the record? I...I'm an artist. Mostly dabble in pencil drawings and some painting. Used to earn extra money while I was at Carida by designing and painting squadron logos. My brothers taught me how to fight, I'm addicted to caf and chocolate, and as evidenced by last night, I have a really low alcohol tolerance that I'm hoping will change with time." Carré smiled and sipped at the juice, glancing at him over the rim of her glass before lowering both.

[Kelly Perris]

"You'll have to show me, sometime." He said, referring to her proclaimed artistic talent. "Another time."

He had put the bottle away, back in the small refrigeration unit and returned to his seat, finally allowing himself to relax. The initial purpose of this meeting had been done with, but there was always secondary purpose and it was an effort of his to try and get to know those under his command as much as was possible and as much as they were willing.

"So, six brothers?" He asked, wondering himself what it would have been like to have other siblings. He had loved his sister, but she had never been one of the boys. He would give her his questions one at a time, so as not to overwhelm her hung-over brain. The juice was a hearty citrus, squeezed with extra pulp, the kind of thing that could tide you over until you could do something about actual food. Or, whatever food approximated to, around here.

[Carré Inirial]

"I'd love to...there isn't much, mind you, since I left everything behind on the Borealis where I was last stationed. But I've gotten a fair amount done while I've been here."

Carré offered lightly, her voice warming with the juice and the prospect of being able to talk about her favorite hobby. Several sips followed as she paused, pleased that he was considerate enough to only ask her one thing at a time. As it was, her still-murky mind took several moments to formulate a response.

How could she possibly explain her brothers?

"Yes...six. According to my parents, I was an accident, albeit a happy one. Pharos, the oldest, and his twin Adonis, would have turned thirty-seven this year, Cantul would be thirty-four, Lance thirty-one, Harris twenty-nine, and Benton would have been twenty-eight. My mother tried and failed at making me 'proper' as a little girl...hard to do when I ended up with the same black eyes, cuts, and scrapes as my brothers." Carré's expression turned wistful and sheepish for a brief moment, before she took another sip of the juice.

[Kelly Perris]

"I had one sister. She was a bright, sweet, energetic..." He paused. "... very gung-ho, go-get-'em. Eager. She used to be. I could tell the academy changed her. Chalked it up to maturing. Never got to see that pan out. It's strange, to think of it this way, to be the last of my line."

He sipped at his juice, silently introspective. He was looking down to the direction of the desk, not really focusing for moments upon moments before his eyes tracked back up, running over her fingers to follow her arms and body up to her face. He smiled again, then, and raised his glass.

"To family, past, present and future." And his smile widened. "And to your art." He had his eyes on her, looking just over the rim of his glass at her, before taking a sip of the citrus juice and lowering the glass. "I look forward to seeing just how talented you are."

The fact that it might be construed as outright flirting or innuendo, what he had just said, was far from lost on him and it wasn't quite as if he hadn't meant it that way, either. He tried not to, given what he was supposed to be to her, but other than that, he couldn't help but find her attractive. It was certainly enough to cause such a slip of the tongue.

[Carré Inirial]

"I think the Academy changes everyone."

Her voice emerged a bit more softly than she'd intended, but as the tone had eased the pounding in her head a more, she couldn't really argue. Another sip of juice elicited a faint sigh of pleasure, just as her emerald gaze rose to meet his cerulean one.

He was just staring...

Ok, I know I'm not the best at this little game, but even I'm not -that- oblivious...

Carré lifted her glass in response, far too occupied with watching just how much his smile grew than to pay too much attention to the words passing through them. She took another sip as he did, return words lingering on the tip of her tongue.

There they stayed, fading away as a delicate flush unfurled over her features. What it heralded, even she couldn't be certain, but it was lightyears away from being unpleasant.

"I look forward to the time when I can properly demonstrate...sir." she replied as her old accent emerged briefly, completely unable to stop herself from returning his leisurely, trailing glance. A longer sip this time, and her glittering emerald gaze rose once more.

Even her inner voice was stunned silent.

[Kelly Perris]

Oh, those words had his mind scuttling off in all sorts of inappropriate directions. To that end, the commander merely grinned, sipping at his juice. He didn't want to say things. He didn't want conversation, he wanted action. Kelly was very well keeping the cap on that bottle, but to say, it had been a while and it wasn't inadvertently so. He knew he couldn't, not this easily now, no matter how much his body screamed for the feast of flesh.

"What kinds of things do you draw?" He asked, staying on topic. Yes, this was a nice, innocent, simple question. Harmless. "I'm afraid there's not an artistic bone in my body and that brand of creativity never ran in my family. About the closest it came was that my father's side of the family were very much a part of the Royal Engineers. I suppose that technical gift, creating the sweet lines of a starship, is artistry enough. But, given what I lack, I make up for in interest."

He tried not to look over every inch of her that was accessible to his view too noticeably, but he sort-of settled on her hair and eyes. The green of them was something he couldn't recall seeing before and the stark darkness of the sheet of hair made him feel something of a fondness. He did like long hair on a woman.

[Carré Inirial]

Fingers rose to absently smooth through the curls cascading over her shoulders, coming away with the pins that hadn't secured her hair as much as she'd thought. Although, given the look she was getting, she didn't mind so much and made a distant mental note to leave her hair down more often.

Gradually, her brain kicked into actual gear instead of idling, and convinced her voice to cooperate once more after several more sips of juice. "A little bit of everything, really. Ships of all kinds, landscapes, my family house...but I love drawing people the most. I can lose myself in it for hours at a time. You learn the most fascinating things from people just by...watching them." Carré smiled, her cheeks a bit warm - though whether it was from the banter or her hangover, she couldn't say.

Biting her lower lip, she leaned forward and set the glass down on the edge of his desk, picking up a pencil and a small piece of paper. In the span of a few minutes, the pencil flew effortlessly across the page and recreated his X-wing in near-perfect detail. Shading as best she could to account for the painted details she could remember, Carré even added the series of nicks along the right side that hadn't been buffed out yet.

"Just to pique your interest." she eventually murmured, sliding the sketch across the desk to him and glancing up through her lashes.

[Kelly Perris]

He placed the glass of juice down on the desktop and reached for the sketch, pulling it the rest of the way to himself and picking it up with one hand to appraise it from a good vantage point, a smile warming over his face as he traced the fingers of his free hand over the details. It was good. Very good.

"Yasmin." He uttered just the one word, the gentle, warm smile now firmly set on his mouth. Kelly lowered the picture down, now in soft grip of both sets of fingers, resting the bottom edges of his hands on the desktop and looking up at Carré again. "That's her name, my fighter, after my sister." He lifted and waved the small sketch in the air in front of him. "This, you did beautifully."

He placed the piece of paper down on the desk and reached for his glass again. He could have said, and you're beautiful, too, but he refrained from such. It settled into his conscience a little that he just might have difficulty treating her quite like the rest of the squadron. What was the difference between her and Tera? They were both gorgeous, in their own ways. Why this one, why now?

"Where did you learn to draw? When?"

[Carré Inirial]

"Its a lovely name...and thank you."

Carré echoed softly, sitting back with her glass of juice. She shifted until she found a reasonably comfortable position, the fingertips of one hand lifting to touch her flushed cheek briefly. A sigh echoed in her mind and thankfully remained internal, glass lifting to her lips for another sip. The tip of her tongue darted out to catch a bit of pulp lingering on the edge, before Kelly spoke, posing another question.

"I never really took formal lessons, I always had the ability. For as long as I can remember, I've been scribbling on every available surface...including the walls of our house. And my father's office...he once complained he had no art in his office so I took a pink marker and drew him a Victory-class Star Destroyer. Wasn't entirely accurate, since I was only eight, but it was umistakable." She grinned sheepishly, trying to chase the wistfulness from her gaze at the old memory.

[Kelly Perris]

A look of evident amusement came to be on his face, half-obscured by the glass of juice at his mouth as he took in the last gulp from it. He breathed out a satisfied sound, the goodness of the juice having done something to chase away the effect the missing hours of rest were having on him. He hadn't exactly gone right to sleep after leaving the mess hall.

"Good memories. I think for the years that I did have to make such memories with my family - twenty-six of them - the good memories outweighed the bad by sheer quantity alone, never mind the quality. Everything is quality, everything has a certain something to it, the veil of time always makes what came before look sweeter."

Kelly placed the glass on the desk, peeling his fingers from it and moving that hand to clasp the other as if it were normal, unconscious and not at all an intention to keep his hands entirely to himself. He hadn't had such issues, really, since Bette.

[Carré Inirial]

He's ten years older than you.

What? Where'd that come from?

Did you pay *any* attention at all to what he said?

Of course I did...I'm just...

Preoccupied and trying not to stare.

Oh shut up. I can't...I can't *help* it.

Carré sighed faintly as she sipped the last of her juice, debating holding onto the glass. Instead, she left it at the corner of her desk where it had sat while she'd drawn, while she sat back and gave his words a bit of further thought, emerald gaze dulling a little bit as she gazed at him.

Fingers toyed with the loose curls of her raven hair, an absent minded habit she'd never been able to get rid of. "That's true...but time doesn't always dull the pain the way its supposed to. But it does serve a purpose. Reminds us that we're alive and that we need to live in the moment as opposed to just shuffling along."

[Kelly Perris]

Live in the moment. Damn, if only it were that easy. There were matters that complicated doing such right here, right now (just met her, just berated her the night before, I'm her superior officer, I'm... it wasn't this hard when I was just an FO, now was it?) and all things considered, it just wouldn't have been all that responsible. A reputation, an image to uphold. Deep-bred instinct, the way of Perris men for generation after generation even went against such quick action with regards to a woman. It made him feel a certain mote of shame in how he had acted for nearly ten years - there were causes, reasons, but no good excuse. Always trying to just bury the pain, bury it deep. What had happened with Leela, between them, before their posting to the Wheel, before her promotion, had only proven that he couldn't afford to push it down much longer.

How one did go about that was something he wasn't entirely certain of; perhaps Justinian would have some insight but... that wasn't happening. That was more awkward territory, the kind of... heart-to-heart he wasn't certain he wanted to be having with anybody, much less another man. No matter how best a friend that man was.

"And that's part of why we're here, isn't it, Instead of wallowing in our own grief? Now, speaking of being here, I have a few other things to sort out with you. More business, now that I can see your head's a little clearer."

Kelly pulled open one upper shallow drawer on the left hand side of the desk and pulled out a datapad, thumbing it on and flipping through documents, looking for a particular one. A satisfied smile crept onto his lips when he found it.

"Here we are." He turned the datapad around and slid it in front of her, standing halfway and leaning across the desk to point out what he intended for her to see. "Now, you have a couple options for rooming. I'm assigning you slot eleven - which makes you Rogue Eleven - and typically people bunk with their wingmates, but I'm allowing you the decision here, not only because you're female, but that the option is available in the first place."

He settled over the desk, arms crossing over themselves on the surface.

"There's Tera Uolmi - the only other woman in the squadron, presently. She wouldn't be your winger, but still, the option is available, if you wanted it. She's from Kessel. And then there's your wingman - that would be Yoree Neel. You ever see a tall, blue man with some boyishness still in his face, that'd be Yoree, the only Chiss pilot I know of in the entirety of the Rebellion's squadrons." He laughed. "He's a good man."

[Carré Inirial]

Huh...I could have sworn what you just sa-

Shut. Up.

A shift in her posture brought a slight movement forward, leaving her to perch on the edge of her seat as he stood. She rose to take the datapad as he slid it her way, a finger scrolling across the small screen. A delicate brow arched as she pondered the choice she was given, lower lip caught between her teeth briefly.

Carré entertained the thought of bunking with Tera for all of two seconds before she shook her head. Fingertips scrolled a bit further along the screen, pausing only as the commander continued.

"I think I spent too long with my brothers when I was little...I've always been more comfortable around men than other women, to be honest. Plus, I'd rather bunk with the person I'll be flying with...providing he doesn't mind me." she smiled, setting the datapad back down on the desk and sitting back once more.

She leaned forward slightly, elbow resting on her crossed legs and her chin in her hand. Emerald eyes lit up for a moment as a thought occured to her. "Yoree doesn't happen to have a Clawcraft, does he? I flew one once...at Carida. On a dare...there was a visiting delgation from the Ascendancy. I might have borrowed one of them for a little spin. Their sheer maneuverability is amazing." She'd have bounced in her seat at the thought if she'd had the energy, as it was, her voice, clearer now than it had been was bright with amusement at the memory.

[Kelly Perris]

Kelly sat back in his own seat, nodding in consideration of her choice. Yoree was a good man - he liked women, as most of the Rogues tended to do - but Miss Inirial would be 'much too young' for him. The Chiss would probably treat her much the same he would a kid sister, if he had one. Had he? The commander didn't know. Aside from his brother, Yoree didn't speak of his family at all. There was the matter of the Ascendancy being a bit allied with the Empire and that probably had a lot to do with it.

"I'm afraid he doesn't, so far as I've seen. Yoree and Evest gave up quite a few things to be part of the Rebellion. Knowing where the allegiances of the Chiss Ascendancy lie, I don't think I should have to go into what those sacrifices might have been. But, you've made a good choice."

He smiled, almost coming to a laugh.

"I'm certain he won't mind you. In any case, he wouldn't have a choice in the matter. He needs a good few smacks every now and then, just like everyone else in the squad. Don't be afraid to administer some yourself, if he gets oh... out of line. Good man, but a man nonetheless. And a member of this squadron. You'll learn what that means, with time."

[Irridia Solensis]

..........

[Carré Inirial]

"I think he and I will understand one another just fine. Besides, I learned to administer a fine smackdown on six older brothers. Was excellent practice for persuading boys to keep their hands to themselves at Carida and beyond."

Not that you want him to keep those hands to himself...

That's it...no more Glitterdust Drops and ale for you.

Oh stuff it, princess...you've suppressed me long enough. I want out...now.

Frak.

Carré smiled in spite of the warmth in her cheeks, tapping the fingers holding her chin across her lower lip. Her expression soon melted to one of concern as something occured to her. "Do you happen to know where they took my Interceptor? Haven't been allowed to see it since I got out of the brig two days ago. There's a few things stored on it that I don't want getting lost."

[Kelly Perris]

Would that she knew he was having relatively similar thoughts. He could certainly apply the 'I can't help it, I'm male, I have a healthy sex drive, so sue me' excuse if she happened to be a mind-reader, but it wasn't likely. No, this was just crazy. Sure, she was an attractive woman, sure she was Alderaanian, sure... He just pursed his lips thoughtfully, scratching his chin, which always seemed ever-so-slightly itchy the day he shaved it. Just that, locking everything else down.

"I don't have the slightest clue." he admitted, smiling almost, almost cautiously as if things threatened to show on his face too much. His eyes flicked back to her. "But, I can find out for you. My thought is that the spooks are just being cautious, paranoid more like, and just want to be absolutely certain you aren't a spy or something of that sort. More than likely, someone's just gotten their wish granted to tinker with enemy hardware that hasn't been terrorized to bits."

His eyes had wandered away again, to nothing in particular. If anything was apparent, it was that other thoughts were occupying his minds, ones not entirely applicable to the present frame of time. The commander tracked his gaze back to Inirial.

"You aren't a spy, are you?" He asked as if the answer was something he knew, a foregone conclusion, that if it had been a yes, she certainly wouldn't be sitting in his office right now. Kelly shook his head. "Of course not."

[Carré Inirial]

"I would very much appreciate if you could. I don't mind if they want to poke around in it, but I'm terribly attached to that ship for a ton of reasons."

Carré grinned, fingers tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Her expression flickered between the more than casual interest that was brewing, and the calm, collected façade she generally tried to cultivate when she wasn't wearing her temper on her sleeve. His following words elicited a soft peal of laughter, and a bit of a flush to her cheeks as shook her head.

"Ahhh...no. Definitely not a spy. You'd never even think it once you've liberated a couple hundred credits from me at the sabacc table."

Fingers wound together in her lap as she caught herself before she could steal the pencil and another piece of paper from his desktop. There was just something about him, she thought, emerald eyes tracing the lines of his handsome face. Something that gave her the urge to...draw.

Among other things.