Minor Repairs (Kalidor, Kuat Shipyards)

[Bette Davis]

If it isn't one thing, its another.

Lieutenant Commander Bette "Shooter" Davis had been thrilled to get some leave while the Strike-class medium cruiser Kalidor was docked for repairs in the Kuat shipyards. The orbital stations were full of interesting things to do, and best of all she could get away from her nuggets.

Granted, they were doing better, mostly because of her teaching, but they still tended toward asking super annoying questions that had common sense answers. Like Kidd Smix. Bette suppressed a shudder at the thought of the young ensign. Skilled in piloting, perhaps, but not socially. He'd really fallen straight out of a turnip transport right into the recruiting shuttle. Of course she'd shown him the error of his ways, and now he was comfortably far away, causing headaches for someone else as a shuttle pilot.

She walked with purpose down the wide central promenade of the orbital station, but she had no destination in mind except perhaps the bottom of a bottle. Even that was starting to lose its appeal, however. Her run in with Kelly Perris had awakened a part of her she'd thought drowned. Conscience? Whatever it was, it was about as dammed annoying as her nuggets.

A group of pilots were walking towards her, and she drew herself up to her full height of five feet four inches and tried to look imposing. Despite her rank and full uniform, women in the Navy didn't get a lot of respect. Something else that was like a constant migraine in the back of her head.

Still, despite all the current 'things' going on, Bette wouldn't change much of her situation. As long as she could still get out in a Defender, or any other fighter, she felt alive. The wind in my face, metaphorically. She determined that she would ignore these pilots, some of whom looked familiar from Kalidor as they drew closer, and find a quiet bar for a nice, big, beer.

[Vikki Tavik]

The second the Kalidor had docked, it seemed that Bloodfin squadron had done everything in their power to get off ship as fast as humanly possible. Not that Tavik could blame them, the last time they had even seen another ship, none the less a station, was when Hellfire had transferred over. Griffin "Bull" Muldoonin particular had expressed a constant longing for a good bar, and possibly the chance to catch a few of the Hellfire nuggets in an arena where command wouldn't be instantly able to step in and prevent him from teaching them a few lessons the hard way.

Whatever. They were off ship. And as much as they were still her pilots, Tavik loved nothing more than to be blissfully ignorant of their activities when they were off duty. The thought ran through her mind once more. Her pilots. Like it should be. With Hellfire had come Davis and Adder, Davis taking up the position of instructor of the squadron and Adder...well, he'd taken up Tavik's job. Apparently it didn't sit well with him, or the old man, or something. He had left the Kalidor that morning and Tavik had been reinstated to her previous position.

The job however didn't come without its drawbacks. While the rest of the pilots and crew of the Kalidor would be enjoying some much needed down-time, she was to collect a new pilot for the Bloodfins: Vitra Karr, ex-military. The report she had been given only glossed over generalities of that particular little reasoning, the details would have to come from Karr directly.

At least they'd chosen one of the bars as a meet up place, it was easier to pry into someone's mind and get a real feel for them when they felt more relaxed. At least the replacement pilot was another woman, that would make Burnout happy at least, probably all the boys too but that was another issue entirely.

[Tiercel Habrok]

As the pilots of the Strike-class cruiser Kalidor dispersed into the hive of activity that was the Kuat Drive Yards, one figure lagged behind. His eyes were wide as he tried to take in the breadth and depth of the Imperial fleet that was docked around the Kalidor, making the cruiser look smaller and shabbier than it had ever done before.

Tiercel Habrok didn't notice that, however; his attention was on the flight manual in his hands, scrabbling through pages and pages of starship specification as he tried to identify what he was looking at. He edged away from a particularly huge ship, his head titled all the way back in an effort to get a proper look at the monolith made in metal – but at that moment, bumped into whoever was walking behind him. Wheeling around with an apology just about bursting from his lips, he was confronted by a painfully familiar face.

“Captain Tavik.”

Hastily, he hid his guidebook, which was entitled An Imperial Cadets Guide to the Many Varied and Much Admired Starships of Her Majesty's Imperial Fleet. A weak smile crept onto his lips, but under the Captain's gaze it soon started to wither.

“You're going to pick up our new pilot, right?”

[Cael Bathala]

It was no surprise to Cael Bathala that, the moment they had all begun to disembark, Bloodfin Squadron had put as much distance between themselves and Hellfire as possible. Aboard the Kalidor, Captain Tavik's pilots took to teasing the Hellfire nuggets as if there was a competition to see who could be the biggest asshole – and for all Cael knew there was – but in the Kuat Shipyards there was more to see and do. Like get drunk and come up with even better insults. Where his flight-mates had gotten to, he didn't know, but it seemed like most everyone was drifting the same way – to a bar, where the owner must have felt all his Life Days had come at once when he'd got a look of the crowds of thirsty pilots swaggering into view.

[Bette Davis]

Bette passed by the trio of Nightshrike pilots, and managed to ignore them completely as they went on their way. She hadn't socialized with many other pilots on Kalidor, and had not even bothered to learn most of their names. What would have been the point?

It had been a long and sober tour, and she quickly found her way into a cantina that was big and already had a mob of pilots, officers, and assorted Imperial citizens inside. Bette pushed her way to the bar to order a beer and found herself elbow to elbow with Ensign Bathala.

She grunted a hello, tried again to disregard how good looking the nugget was, and flagged down the droid bartender. "A pint of Corellian ale. And quick." Bette tossed a handful of credit chits on the bartop. "Just keep taking my drinks out of this, and let me know when you need more."

[Tannis V'larr]

A familiar, flint-like voice interrupted Bette's binge before it could begin.

"With respect, Commander Davis, I question the wisdom of such over-indulgence. Even for someone so fortunate as to possess a 'cybonic (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=207073&postcount=36)' liver."

Tannis V'larr, looking smart in his new lieutenant commander's bars, approached Bette from behind with his hands clasped neatly behind his back and his lips pressed into the closest thing to a smile that ever blessed his angular features. Behind him, looking far more chipper, swaggered another familiar face.

"I would hate to see something unseemly befall one of the Empire's most decorated combat pilots."

[Jakys Sei'trem]

With the ever growing crowd to the fine drinking establishment with its ridiculously creative name, “Downtime”, a rambunctious group of card players in the corner began to draw more attention. Perhaps more so at the Devaronian dressed in silk to the horns at the center of the party than any noise coming from them. Xenophobia had gotten better over the years, but on the all-human Kuat, any alien was seen as out of place.

“Sabaac!” The alien grinned brightly as he slapped his hand onto the table, straight 23, and a round of groans followed. “ ‘pologies, gentlemen. I’was a good game.”

Surprisingly the other players simply grinned along, drank their booze, and traded jokes. Fishing up his winnings, the alien strode up to the bar. Several other patrons gave him a wide berth and cast odd looks at him.

“ ‘scuse me, miss.” He slid up next to one of those pilot types had just walked in. “ A round o’drinks f’my friends at th’ table.”

He smiled over at the pilot.

“An one f’the lady s’well.”

[Vitra Karr]

Kuat Drive Yards.

Her new squadron was here, their ship docked for repairs.

Former Captain of her own company in the Strategic Insertion Battalion - she had aced one too any piloting tests, was rushed through training, and humiliated the CAG of the Borealis.

It earned her a step down in rank to Lieutenant, and seemed as if her years of dedication to the cause meant absolutely nothing.

Vitra put a stop to her train of thought with some effort, and hoisted her black duffel bag onto her shoulder. The rest of her gear was marked to be moved over to the Kalidor, while she went off to her meeting.

Thank all the gods it was in a cantina...the casual atmosphere would be a boon. As would the alcohol.

The dim light of the cantina glittered across her leather jacket (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=20752993) and flashed when it hit the perfectly polished leather and brass of her boots. The tall heels added four inches to her five foot two inch frame and clicked audibly across the floor. Dropping her bag on the floor at the end of the bar, she perched on the barstool and shrugged out of her jacket.

The barkeep ambled over and nodded amiably as he caught sight of her black-bordered tags. "Trooper Corps?"

"SIB, former Captain of Delta Company."

"Well alright then...what can I get ya?"

"Mutant Zombie...doubled." she replied, running a hand through her chestnut hair. Dark eyes slipped across the others at the bar, the silver threads embedded in her irises forming a cross-hatch pattern as she focused on each of them briefly.

[Vikki Tavik]

The sound of Habrok's voice wasn't quite the equivalent of running nails against the hull of a ship, but it still set the Captain on edge.

"Yes." The answer was curt and Tavik attempted to brush off the fact she had been bumped into.

Her steps were sure, eyes trained forward as she attempted to shrug off the cruel gazes of the various other members of the Empire who didn't quite hold the same respect towards her as the crew of the Kalidor.

Despite attempting to put some space between her as Habrok, Vikki knew he was going to be close by, no more than just a step behind her.

"I'm guessing Colonel Wystalin has you running some sort of errand for him while we're at dock?" The callousness that she typically addressed the Ensign with wavered somewhat. Habrok was a minor irritant, and if it meant she could disrupt Wystalin's day, then having him tag along might almost be worth it.

"Whatever it is, it can wait. You're with me. Besides, if she is typical of the Empire's finest, then it may just take the both of us to drag her sorry intoxicated hide back to the brig when we ship off. I'd have Muldoon help me but odds are he'll already be occupying one of the cells at that point."

[Cael Bathala]

The bartender had outright ignored Cael, serving Commander Davis and even an alien first before he found his way back down to Ensign Bathala. He would have written it off as coincidence, if it wasn't for the fact that Hellfire Squadron were always at the bottom of the pile. Whether it was a matter of who got the latest equipment upgrades, or who got the best of the lunch-hall slops, it was never a pilot with Hellfire stitched onto their jacket. Had to be a kick in the teeth, for a pilot as highly rated as Bette Davis to be in charge of such a sorry bunch.

Another of the Shadow's appeared and made a vain attempt to curb the Commander's drinking habit. Already, Cael was beginning to question his own wisdom, in coming to the bar. The crowds were getting thicker and, as he took his first sip of ale, he was sure he had just heard someone whoop 'Team Tagge! Yeah!' Eyes narrowed, he glanced about the bar until he spotted a holo-screen that was showing highlights of the weeks swoop-races.

[Tiercel Habrok]

Habrok hmm'd to himself as he walked, now practically in step with Captain Tavik. She set a brisk pace, more a stalk than a walk.

“So it's a she.”

There were only three women in Bloodfin squadron. Aside from Captain “Flashfire” herself, there was Trisha “Burnout” Lank - whose call-sign was regrettably entirely accurate – and Maranai “Rimmer” Madine who, like Tiercel, was squandering her perhaps above-average talents as a pilot in the Gunnery Corps. All things considered, history didn't provide too favourable of a recommendation for women aboard the Kalidor.

“What's her name? Where's she from?”

[Jakys Sei'trem]

“Is zat regret a’see?”

Jakys peered over at Cael Bathala from his new perched at the bar. The young female pilot had already skedaddled away. Must have been the horns.

The Devaronian remember the fighter jockey from the affair at the Russard Estate back when. They only shared a few snippets of conversation at dinner, but he had a superb memory for the details.

Cael didn’t even look half as peppy as the enthusiastic young, new pilot at the dinner party.

“Nev’r seen a jockey look that down ‘afore.”

[Bette Davis]

"With respect, Commander Davis, I question the wisdom of such over-indulgence. Even for someone so fortunate as to possess a 'cybonic (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=207073&postcount=36)' liver.

"I would hate to see something unseemly befall one of the Empire's most decorated combat pilots."

Bette's eyes widened at the voice behind her, and she turned quickly, managing not to jostle Bathala as he got his drink from the bartender. "Professor? You pointy-eared bastard!" She beamed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't tell me the Termagant is here. Chipper!"

She lost her place at the bar when she walked around to pretend to slug Aliya in the shoulder. "Krasst, its been a long time." Bette turned to look up at Tannis, and gaped at his uniform. "Frell me, they made you Lieutenant Commander?!"

[Malick Raine]

Raine hung back about ten steps behind Chipper trying to remain inconspicuous as possible. It had only been a few weeks since the military courts had decided to reinstate him after he had been AWOL for nearly two years. Even though he had broken several laws on his sabbatical the courts had taken leniency on him believing his story was compelling. For his sister and him the courts decide to allow them to keep their new names as a form of protective custody while an investigation into his father’s dealings were being launched.

He didn't want to draw to much attention to himself, hoping no one here would remember Jason Dreggs. He would have just stayed on the Termagant but Chipper had insisted he get off the ship. He had a hard time arguing with her, he was a sucker for a woman in a flight suite. So here he was hanging back sunglasses covering his eyes and his head kept low. He occasionally glanced around the bar trying to spot familiar faces that he should avoid. There were only two people he recognized besides Chipper and Tannis. Chipper and Tannis where in the clear well aware of who he was and who he use to be.

The two he recognized where Bette Davis and Cael Bathala. He had never met the later but had lost some money betting on him in swoop races a couple of times. As for Lt. Cmdr Davis he had to hope she wouldn't remember him or at least wouldn't call him out by his old name. He scoped the bar some more just to make sure no else he knew was around but the place was pretty packed so it was a futile attempt.

[Aliya Vahlshalynn]

"With respect, Commander Davis, I question the wisdom of such over-indulgence. Even for someone so fortunate as to possess a 'cybonic (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showpost.php?p=207073&postcount=36)' liver.

"I would hate to see something unseemly befall one of the Empire's most decorated combat pilots."

Bette's eyes widened at the voice behind her, and she turned quickly, managing not to jostle Bathala as he got his drink from the bartender. "Professor? You pointy-eared bastard!" She beamed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Don't tell me the Termagant is here. Chipper!"

She lost her place at the bar when she walked around to pretend to slug Aliya in the shoulder. "Krasst, its been a long time." Bette turned to look up at Tannis, and gaped at his uniform. "Frell me, they made you Lieutenant Commander?!"

Aliya feigned to block the incoming punch, and then laughed as it didn't take Bette too long to notice the new tags on Tannis indicating his rank. "I guess she ain't as plastered as we thought."

Wrapping an arm around Shooter's shoulders, she gave her old friend a squeeze before letting her go. "She still has the capacity to see!"

[Tannis V'larr]

"In the singular no less," Tannis added. "We may be just in time--"

He jerked to a halt when Bette wrapped him in a hug as well. Mechanically, he reached an arm around, patted her on the back, and waited for it to be over.

A moment later, he straightened out his jacket. "Since Shadow Squadron was disbanded, I have had the opportunity to continue my work in research and development. A few of my projects have evidently put me in good stead. And you? How are you enjoying your position as flight instructor?"

[Aura Kolar]

Zethra was the last one to make it station side out of his squad. He wanted to check over his Defender to make sure his weapon systems were working fine. Ever since the little prank that cost him a score in training, he made sure that his weapons were fine. The check lasted ten minutes, but that meant that most of the pilots from the Kalidor were long gone.

Walking through the docking tube, he turned left and began to make his way toward the nearest bar… or what he thought was the bar considering the amount of noise that was coming from the establishment. As he reached the door he saw that the occupancy sign on the door said 65 beings. Looking at the crowd, Zethra guessed that there was at least twice that number and most were on their way to getting drunk. The smile on his face grew. This was definitely the place he wanted to be. He began to shoulder his way toward the bar.

Being new to the Kalidor, Zethra was still trying to remember the other squadron’s pilots. As he pressed his way toward the bartop, he saw a group of his squad mates at the counter. He instantly recognized Chipper, his flight leader. Professor was there and another woman, shorter than he was talked excitedly with the pair. He recognized her, which meant that he had learned that she was Bette Davis, called Shooter. She was the CO of Shadow Squadron, but had switched to the Hellfires to train the squadron of mostly green pilots.

As he reached the bar he stepped behind Chipper and tossed a credit chit down on the counter. Churban Brandy… make it a double Barkeep.”

[Cael Bathala]

“Is zat regret a’see? Nev’r seen a jockey look that down ‘afore.”

The voice – like a devil perched on his shoulder – pulled Cael's attention reluctantly away from the swoop races. It was the alien who had been at the bar and... now that he looked at him, Bathala recognised him from somewhere else to. The party on Coruscant, if party was the right word for it.

“Can you blame me?” he nodded towards the telescreen, then shook his head. “Team Tagge's seen better days, by far.”

[Bette Davis]

"Since Shadow Squadron was disbanded, I have had the opportunity to continue my work in research and development. A few of my projects have evidently put me in good stead. And you? How are you enjoying your position as flight instructor?"

Bette pulled a face at her former squadmates as they poked fun at her sobriety. "Enjoying? That's one word for it. I prefer 'surviving.'"

A condition of her 'reassignment' had been no drinking on board the Kalidor, and she suddenly remembered her ale sitting on the bar. She shoved her way back to it, found it more or less unscathed, and brought it back to where the former Shadows were standing. "I heard they took the whole squadron apart after they booted me. I guess Capt. Kellison finally got his wish, huh?"

Bette sipped the ale, feeling her shoulders relax as the sweet nectar began to work into her bloodstream.

[Tarrick Ragnus]

Dropping out of hyperspace at the edge of the Kuat System, the Admonisher, Adarga, and the Vanguard arrived. They were in patrol formation with the ISD II at point and the other two SD’s behind and to the side of Admonisher. Immediately Kuat Control sent a code query to the Admonisher. Tarrick was on the bridge when it came. He nodded to Commander Valtross to send the code. It pinged several seconds later… an indication that it was accepted. Then a message was sent over.

“You are cleared for berths Alpha Niner Delta Gamma Three-Three-Two through Three-Three-Four. Welcome to <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:Street w:st="on"><st1:address w:st="on">Kuat Drive</st1:address></st1:Street> Yards.”

“Take us in.” Tarrick said, looking down toward the Navigator’s station in the pits. The three ships dropped out of formation and spread out, but all turning in unison to approach their assigned berths. With all the ships coming in and out of KDY, along with the defensive ships and CAP Patrols, and all the maintenance ships, the space around the famous shipyards and planets were thick. Slowly the three ships made their ways to their berths. As the Navigators slowed them to a stop, docking clamps shot out from all around them, attaching to various portions of the ships. After a few seconds, the Admonisher looked like a giant animal caught in the web of a predator.

“All stop”, called out the navigator. Tarrick could hear the excitement in his voice. The crew was quite anxious to get to the station and the legendary bars that they had.

Tarrick could feel all their eyes on him. He pushed a button, opening a shipwide frequency.

“This is the Captain. We are here to resupply and are awaiting reassignment. It will take approximately 4 days. You are on leave until that time. Conduct yourselves in a way appropriate to this ship. Soil our reputation and I’ll kill you myself. Dimissed.”

At that the crew applauded and quickly made their way toward the nearest docking clamp. Commander Valtross walked up.

“That’s one way to ensure loyalty.” He was smiling.

“I know. Go enjoy yourself. I will be at the bar later tonight.”

Valtross saluted and quickly left the bridge. Tarrick would join them in the festive drinking, but first we wanted to see what his new assignment was going to be.

[Aliya Vahlshalynn]

"Ugh, Kellison. That fat mouse was cackling when he got the orders to disband us. Too bad the freller can't see us now though, eh?" she said and playfully elbowed Shooter in the ribs, careful to not spill the blessed elixir of the gods (ale) out of the glass.

She then felt someone move in behind her, which was not unusual, the bar was cramped tonight, and perked up to see one of her own boys had joined the party. "Heyas Decoy!" she slapped him against the back of his shoulder but her chipper expression soured when Aliya saw what he was drinking. "Seriously? Brandy?"

A few blinks of hazel eyes tried to diminished their disappointment and roughly turned towards the bartender, instantly getting his attention. "I want two Corellian Ales and two shots of the best whiskey in the house for me and mine here," she said hopping up so that her finger could be planted over Kaine's head.

[Jakys Sei'trem]

Jakys laughed into his drink, an annoyingly bright pink concoction of hard liquors. He glanced over at the extreme-sports feed on the news and back over to the former Team Tagge racer.

"Well f'course! Bes' racer's sittin in here."

The Devaronian suddenly shook his head as the booze from the drink finally hit him. For such a tame looking drink the thing packed a wallop.

"Was ta'kin 'bout fighter jockeys 'ough. Where's th'arrogance and charm?"

Sei'Trem grinned at the stereotype that Imperial fighter pilots carried with them. Bathala had damn near fit the bill not more than two or three months ago.

[Cael Bathala]

Cael spared his fellow pilots an over-the-shoulder glance. There was a reunion of sorts going on for the notorious Shadow Squadron. Already, they were making a concerted effort to buy up every possible drop of booze the bar had on offer.

“Hell if I know.” He shrugged. “I thought we were in this to shoot the shit out of the Rebels... guess I didn't pay attention to that fine print about arrogance and charm.”

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis noticed the bartender looking at him pointedly, and he decided it would be impolite not to order something. "Kiva juice," he said. "Chilled."

The 'tender muttered something about cheap aliens and stalked off to ply the shelves. "Fortunately Captain Kellison is no longer our problem," Tannis said. "It seems he called in his last favor to rid himself of the most highly regarded squadron in the fleet. Now he and the Termagant labor in obscurity, while the Shadows are rising again."

The 'tender handed Tannis a tall glass of cloudy yellow liquid, which the Sikarran clinked against Bette's mug. "Cheers."

[Kerryna Khapst]

Fingers tugged at the cropped leather jacket (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=20836176), settling it comfortably over her black tank top. It was a far cry from standard-issue, but Ker couldn't help it - she'd seen it in a boutique on Coruscant last time she'd had leave and absolutely had to have it. Red was, after all, her favorite color.

Standing five foot eight and clad in a loud jacket and heavy boots, she rather stood out in the crowd. The girl shrugged at the stray thought and made her way to the nearest cantina - following the conveniently boisterous pilots and crew bearing Imperial and various ships' insignias. That had to be the right place to find Lt. Comm. V'larr, even if his reputation pegged him as far more stoic and reserved than this cantina seemed to be.

A datapad fished out of her pocket revealed pertinent details and included a holopic, along with directions to get to Kuat with all speed. Even though it meant missing all of the festivities and parties that followed graduation, Ker had taken the waiting transport. Because it also meant she'd be joining her new squadron.

She just didn't know which it was yet.

Ahh well...I'll find out soon enough...she mused, striding into the cantina, dark eyes sliding across the crowd. Pushing her loose curls over her shoulder, she caught sight of a knot of pilots at the bar, and it looked as if V'larr was in the midst of them. Altering her course, she headed towards them.

Ker paused briefly, until the conversation around him lulled, before she spoke. "Lieutenant Commander V'larr? I was told to find you and report in. The Commander said you had my squadron assignment?" she said as she offered a salute and then held out the datapad.

[Malick Raine]

Malick finally moved forward towards the bar passing by his old squad. As they herald there cheers Malick did the same. "Cheers." However it was only in passing as he moved up to the bar standing right between Cael and the alien he was talking to. Malick didn't even seem to care that the two were holding a conversation.

"Hey tender." He yelled a little louder then was necessary for the crowd noise. The tender looked over his shoulder at him with one of those what the hell do you want looks. Malick quickly pulled out some creds and set them on the bar. "I'll take that bottle right there and a shot glass." He pointed at a whiskey on the back wall.

The tender grabbed the bottle and handed it to Malick and with his other produced a glass. Malick gave the tender an arrogant yet charming smile and reached out and patted the burly man on the chest. "Thank you, kind sir. You are supporting a noble cause." The tender just grunted and went back to his business.

[Jakys Sei'trem]

“I thought we were in this to shoot the shit out of the Rebels…..”

Jakys nodded and ‘Mhm’’d into his drink as we took another swig of the delightfully bright poison in his mug. He noted the gaggle of mismatched pilots in whatever reunion it was they were up to.

“Cockroachs r’hard t’flush ou’. Good bait ‘s wha’ ya need t’………….”

The Devaronian was cut off mid-sentence as another pilot badgered his way between Cael and Jakys. Almost knocked the drink out of his hand too, but Mr. Sei’Trem managed some odd juggling to save his expensive clothing from getting any booze on it.

He leaned back across the bar so he could get sight to Bathala and pointed at the newcomer.

“Now this is th’kinda ars’ole, ‘m talkin bout.”

[Bette Davis]

Bette toasted enthusiastically, giving Aliya's friend Decoy a friendly smile, and it was a few moments before she realized what V'larr had just said. "Wait, the Shadows are rising again?"

She felt an intense stab of jealously, and hid it behind her ale as she took another drink. A woman in a striking red jacket walked up to Tannis, presenting her transfer papers. Bette looked back over her shoulder at Cael, who was looking glum at the bar. She actually felt a little bad for him... but maybe she was just projecting her own feelings onto him.

[Cael Bathala]

Taller than most of the bars occupants, Cael's gaze met with Bette's for an instant before another pilot – as if answering the alien's call for swaggering arrogance – barged his way into view. The alien caught Bathala's attention and the two of them gave Malick Raine a wide birth, as he went through the odd motions of pouring himself a shot of whiskey, in spite of having just secured himself the entire bottle. Cael couldn't help but smirk.

“You must be with Commander Davis.”

[Vikki Tavik]

“So it's a she.”
Her eyes rolled only slightly. True, the ratio of women to men within the ranks of the Empire were, and perhaps might always, painfully lean to the one side, but it was comments like Habrok's that didn't help the situation. A woman doing her duty to serve the Empire was a sad novelty to most.

His next onslaught of questions were just as irritating as the first.

"You'll find out soon enough. Try to not embarrass yourself."

The bar where the meeting had been scheduled was busy, too busy for her liking. Mostly filled with pilots who saw their time off ship as nothing more than time to attempt to get in as much debauchery as possible before they actually had to be responsible adults once more. Flashfire had nothing against those that simply wanted to relax a little, maybe have an ale or two and enjoy the company of their comrades in a casual atmosphere... but far too often it went from that to brawls and alcohol poisoning.

Davis was there. A woman that Tavik figured she probably should make an attempt at actually getting to know one day. They had been stationed on the same ship for some time now, after all. But when running across each other on the Kalidor, little had been done but a head nod of acknowledgment. Bathala was spotted near by, one of Hellfire. She cringed internally just thinking about the possibility that if they weren't transferred off the Kalidor ASAP, they might just end up her problem. Others were there... a few scattered pilots of Bloodfin and Nightshrike who seemed to attempt at straightened their posture just slightly with her entrance.

A glance was given to her datapad as eyes coolly scanned the crowd for the face of the person she was actually there to see. No such luck in the tables and booths along the edges, which only left the bar... past Davis, Bathala and the seeming growing group of pilots around them... there was a lone woman who had a rather discouragingly large drink in front of her.

A sigh of resolve left the Captain before she maneuvered her way through the sea of others until she ended up at the side of the person who would be, hopefully, coherent to not make the standard conversation painful.

"Lieutenant Karr?" The fact her voice didn't carry very far thanks to the general chaos in the bar irked her somewhat. It seemed to take out the commanding presence that Tavik tried to hold to.

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis was nonplussed to find a datapad thrust into his arms by a slender young woman in a fashionably garish jacket. He spun it around and skimmed over the details.

"Ah. Ensign Khapst."

An untrained observer might have mistaken his stony demeanor as unfriendly, when in truth it was a-friendly. The fact of the matter was, in order to secure the necessary signatures to reinstate Shadow Squadron, he'd needed to make certain concessions; one of those was to take on at least one representative from the current graduating class. Fortunately, he had been given a selection, even if all of them were the sons or daughters of high-ranking officers eager for a trade in the Shadow Squadron name. He had chosen Kerryna, first because she was in the ninety-sixth percentile of her class, and second because he did not personally know her father.

"In fact, we were just discussing the disposition of your new squadron. Though it is only now re-forming, it has a storied history. Ensign, I would like you to meet Lieutenant Commander Bette Davis. Former, and, if she accepts," he turned to Bette and meaningfully raised an eyebrow. "future leader of Beta Flight for Shadow Squadron."

[Vitra Karr]

The drink was well mixed, for a change. The savory spice bit back as it should, and the syrup wasn't overwhelming. Of course, it could have been the fact that on the Borealis, the tenders had no notion what they were doing when it involved multiple bottles.

Vitra sipped delicately before putting the drink down and wondering what her old company had gotten off to. She'd hand-picked her successor, and knew her men were at least under good leadership, but it had still been months since she'd spoken to any of them. Another sip and another sigh saw her shoulders slump ever so slightly.

"Lieutenant Karr?"

The woman spun on her stool at the sound of her rank and name and paused only long enough to ascertain the other woman's.

"That would indeed be me. Captain Tavik, I presume?" Vitra said with a smooth, easy tone as she rose and offered a proper, crisp salute. In spite of the environment, she was very conscious of rank and manners. It had served her well thus far.

"Would you care to have a seat?" Vitra motioned to the stool beside her and waited as was only proper.

[Tiercel Habrok]

Try not to embarrass yourself.

At that comment, Tiercel couldn't help but lag a step or two behind. As he followed the Captain into the bar that seemed to contain an entire academy's worth of pilots, it felt as if someone was clashing symbols inside his skull. Music and laughter and shouting – the whole place was a den of raucous noise. Another of the Bloodfin's spotted them and waved, as if to call them (or rather, probably just the Captain) over but Tavik was on a mission. Literally.

Habrok caught up with her just as she was being offered a seat by a woman who didn't dress like any academy cadet he'd ever seen. His jaw tightened as he loitered awkwardly behind Captain Tavik, more than once edging his way forward to make an introdution – but seconds later deciding against it.

[Malick Raine]

Malick quirked a brow at Jakys statement as he poured himself a shot from the bottle.

"I would rather be the ars'ole." He mocked the devil mans accent with spite. "Then the shit stain of the galaxy that you are."

Malick then took the shot and downed it slamming the glass back down on the bar.

"Whoo! Now that's got a good burn." He looked over his shoulder and the bridge of his sun glasses at the shadows. "Nope looks like the commander and her mates have their own private party. Me I'm just some drunk talking to the devil and his swoop jock girlfriend."

He laughed at his own joke not caring if anyone else was laughing. There was a reason he was the outcast, he never really fit in anywhere. It didn't seem to bother him though; he usually found his own fun.

"Not to barge in on you and your chum here. Tell me why a swoop jock would trade the track for the stars?"

[Bette Davis]

"In fact, we were just discussing the disposition of your new squadron. Though it is only now re-forming, it has a storied history. Ensign, I would like you to meet Lieutenant Commander Bette Davis. Former, and, if she accepts," he turned to Bette and meaningfully raised an eyebrow. "future leader of Beta Flight for Shadow Squadron."

"Wait, what?" She shoved her drink at Aliya and she grabbed the front of V'larr's uniform. "I'm being reinstated? Getting out of nugget hell?!" Her voice was raising in pitch with each statement, and then she realized she was shaking the half-human Lieutenant and released him abruptly.

"Accept? I frelling will accept!" Bette whooped, snatched her ale back from Aliya who'd been successfully juggling the two drinks after having Bette's unceremoniously handed to her. She drained it and shook her head a bit, and then helped herself to one of the shots Aliya had procured from the bar. "Wooo!"

[Cael Bathala]

"Tell me why a swoop jock would trade the track for the stars?"

It was a question Cael was asking himself more and more often. What had made him give up a seven-figure paycheck and a life of luxury for a bunk that was a foot to small and ration bars, morning, noon and night.

“Your guess is as good as mine, pal.”

At that moment, one voice rose up above the din. By the bar, the Shadows were jostling each other back and forth. "I'm being reinstated? Getting out of nugget hell?! Accept? I frelling will accept! Wooo!”

Bette Davis was knocking back shots like there was no tomorrow. She'd already forgotten the group of nuggets she'd promised to bring up to standard. Forgotten about the pilots whose careers, and hopes, were riding on the fact that they'd finally lucked out and got a flight instructor who knew what she was doing - or at least put on a good show of pretending. “Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me. Here, flyboy, hold onto this,” he said, taking a long swig of his drink before shoving it into Malick Raine's hands. Before he could protest, Bathala was on his way towards the Shadows.

“Davis,” he barked. “Davis, you lousy drunk.”

[Jakys Sei'trem]

Heheh, kid was definitely keeping a lot of pent-up rage hidden away. Even so, Jakys did nothing to stop the young pilot, not really the Devaronian's business. Getting up off his moping ass and taking some initiative would do good for him....but this really wasn't a smart way of doing.

" 'ees gonna git hi'self killed."

The alien turned to look Malick up and down and sipped at his drink.

" 'ah like you. Y'are funny."

[Vikki Tavik]

It seemed like only a split second occurred between when Lieutenant Karr had offering a seat that Tavik had every intention of declining, Davis' outburst worming its way over the general drone of the sounds of the bar, and then Bathala's response. Flashfire couldn't really blame the nugget, if the member of Shadow Squadron was leaving the Kalidor to rejoin her squad it left Hellfire in an awful limbo. Seemed the galaxy was never done taking a crap on them. And yet... rather than feeling any sort of sympathy, all Tavik could secretly hope was that Hellfire would be getting a transfer along with their former leader. Otherwise, that could put her in the pool of possible new flight instructors and that particular thought was just too much to handle.

All this flew through her mind, vaping rational thought in the time it took for her eyes to blink twice in succession. Then her attention was back on the Lieutenant.

"I think I will take you up on that, thank you."

As the Captain took a seat at the bar next to Vitra she caught sight of Habrok, seeming to shuffle back and forth somewhat on the edge of her vision. Vikki's eyes focused on him, then the empty seat next to her, and then back to the Ensign. Barking an order at him to make him sit down may only have caused him to jump and the last thing she wanted their new pilot to think was that any member of the Bloodfins were weak, a fact that would sadly have to encompass its gunners. He better have picked up the hint.

One of the datapads she had been holding on to was slid across the bar top towards Vitra.

"Your transfer orders, probably nothing you haven't already heard. Of course they are pending until my final approval. Sadly I won't have the time to evaluate your flying skills before we're scheduled to leave the yards, so this will have to be a bit of a more verbal analysis." An appropriate pause was given to let that sit in, allow for Karr to ask any questions if she hadn't heard properly over the roar of the other pilots. Silence followed, so Captain Tavik continued, "You can start by telling me what brings a member of the military to the star fighter corps."

[Aura Kolar]

Zethra grinned at the rejoiner from Chipper. He downed the Brandy in one gulp. The fire of the alcohol burned down his throat and warmed his torso. He slid the glass back over to the bartender.

“Just trying to bring a little bit of class to this establishment before we all get frack-facin’ sloshed.” He watched as Aliya turned back to the bartender.

"I want two Corellian Ales and two shots of the best whiskey in the house for me and mine friend here."

Zethra smiled and took one of the ales from Aliya and then a shot of whiskey. “I’ll get the next round, Chipper.” We was about to down the shot of whiskey when a short fiery woman shoved another glass into Chipper’s hand. It was Bette Davis, otherwise known as Shooter. It seemed that she was being offered a better job than she currently had. When he heard her mention Nugget Hell, he knew. Nuggets were the Newbies. She must have been assigned to the training squadron on the Kalidor. If he remembered correctly, that would be the Hellfires. He would have rather piloted an unarmed TIE fighter into an asteroid field than train up a bunch of rubes. The death would be quicker and less painful.

“Heyas, Decoy, you still flying without weapons? What do they have you doing now, shuttling officers to and from the head?”

All the cheer drained from Zethra’s face. He turned around to see three human males standing only a few feet away. The lead was a tall blond haired, green eyed man with a huge superiority complex and smug look on his face that Zethra would love to just rip off his face. He was wearing the uniform of a pilot and the insignia on the shoulder of all three indicated they were part of Reaver Squadron, an Avenger Squadron. Instead he took another sip of the ale and leaned back against the bar.

<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 /><st1:City w:st="]Franklin." font with wives two your brought you see I you? are How you.”<>"“Well hello <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comhttp://www.sw-fans.net/forum/ /><st1:City w:st=<ST1http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/ /><st1:City w:st=<?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags" /><st1:place w:st="on">Franklin</st1:place></st1:City>. How are you? I see you brought your two wives with you.”

Franklin'</st1:City>s eye darkened with the mention of his name. His callsign was Reaper and he hated his name. Which was, of course, the reason that Zethra used it. It had been <st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:pFranklin</st1:City> and his goonies that had switched off his weapons during the training mission. That had allowed <st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:place Franklin</st1:City> to graduate ahead of Zethra and he was assigned to a TIE Interceptor upon graduation, while Zethra had to work his way through the ranks of the TIE Fighters to make it where he was at now. Even so, Zethra’s skills were such that now he was in a Defender. Still, Zethra continued on.

“So are these the two new bed buddies? Are you giving them both equal cuddle time or do all of you sleep in the bed together and rub each other’s tummies?”

One of the men made a move toward Zethra, but Reaper stopped him. Zethra laughed. “Man, you need to keep your he-bitches under control. Wouldn’t want to get his pretty face messed up.”

Reaper wasn’t smiling any more. “Watch yourself, Zethra. The next time your weapons fail, you might not be in a training exercise.” He moved a half a step toward Zethra.

“And next time, your Gamorean Girlfriends here won’t stop me from kicking your frackin’ warty hutt face. So take Ugly and Smelly back to the mudpuddle you call a bunk and take it out of their asses, because you won’t like what happens if you stay here. It would just be embarrassing.”

Zethra and Franklin’s voice had now reached a level that it overrode any conversation around them. Then men had closed the distance between them so that only a foot or two was between them. Behind <st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:place Franklin</st1:City>, Zethra noticed that several more Reaver pilots had moved closer to the conversation.

[Kerryna Khapst]

The past two years of sacrifice and hard work, of hardships - it was all suddenly well worth it. She'd been chosen to be part of Shadow Squadron - though disbanded for a short while, it was one of the most storied squadrons in the Empire. That she'd been assigned to it meant that she'd done everything right while she was at the Academy.

Gods, her father was going to be so damn proud.

Ker offered another slightly less formal salute before accepting the datapad back from the Lietenant Commander and tucking it away in her bag. Dark eyes coursed slowly over a suddenly extremely enthusiastic Bette Davis, which drew a grin to her glossy lips and snapped her out of her stunned stupor. A Shadow Squadron pilot, flying under one of the more legendary figures, no less.

Fingers undid the zippers to her jacket and slid it off, resting it atop her bag with care. Her black tanktop was fitted, and the perfect backdrop for the scuffed silver tags around her neck.

“Davis,” he barked. “Davis, you lousy drunk.”

The young woman arched a brow at the owner of the voice, disturbingly handsome and oddly familiar all at once, though she could not for the life of her figure out why. She took a step back as he barged by, his attention wholly focused on Bette, and simply admired the rear view for several lingering moments. The patch on his shoulder finally registered in her mind, and told her he belonged to Hellfire...the polar opposite of the Shadows in terms of - well, in all the important pilot-related ways.

“And next time, your Gamorean Girlfriends here won’t stop me from kicking your frackin’ warty hutt face. So take Ugly and Smelly back to the mudpuddle you call a bunk and take it out of their asses, because you won’t like what happens if you stay here. It would just be embarrassing.”

The colorful phrasing could have come from her father, and coupled with the decibal level it caught her attention. Turning, Ker cast her gaze towards the source. Hmm...a Shadow pilot...and three...Reavers? Ugh...the Reavers had a vicious enough reputation that most Academy graduates were prepared to bribe their way into other squadrons if they got placed with them.

Well. No better time to introduce herself to her new squadron mate. Of course, the possibility of a brawl was also too good to pass up...she was her father's daughter after all.

Ker strode over to the man's side and lightly tapped his shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but I figured I'd introduce myself before you had all this fun by yourself. Name's Kerryna...I'm the newest Shadow. Call me Ker, since I don't have a callsign yet." she said with a smile that was closer to wicked than anything else.

[Tannis V'larr]

The proverbial ink on the metaphorical page of Shadow Squadron's reinstatement orders was not yet dry, and it appeared the squadron was already at the center of a territorial dispute with representatives from not one but two rival squadrons. Tannis sighed and rubbed absently at the bridge of his nose.

"Commander Davis, before you respond, might I remind you of the reason you were consigned to the aforementioned 'nugget hell' in the first place."

[Tarrick Ragnus]

== Upper Level 15-Alpha Niner ==

The Imperial shuttle set down gently on the landing pad at the upper end of the station where the Admonisher was docked. Making his way down the ramp, Tarrick straightened his uniform and his air. He could have walked the 2 km from his ship to the officer’s club, but it would have been filled with some lower ranking officers who would all try to salute him. He decided to bypass that altogether. He quickly, but purposefully exited the hangar and turned left.

A quick tram ride later, he was entering the officer’s club, known as The Grand Admiral. An officer had to be rank of Captain or higher to be allowed in so it would be different to Tarrick to be the most junior officer here. Looking around, though, he saw that the accommodations were more to his liking. Instead of a bar crowded with drunk pilots sloshing drinks and insults everywhere, it was a 5 star restaurant that catered to the high class. White linen tables were arranged to accommodate large numbers or could be broken down into smaller numbers quickly.

“Welcome to the Grand.” Spoke a very attractive female hostess. She was close to 6 feet tall and her long fiery red hair was almost as long as her smooth lithe legs. “Shall I take you to your seat, Captain?”

Tarrick smiled. “Indeed, you may. I look forward to sampling some of your delicacies.” Tarrick immediately realized the stupidity of how he phrased his words, but she just smiled bigger. “I hear that it is the best cuisine this side of Coruscant.”

The redheaded hostess shot him a mischievous look. “Oh I hear they are better, but you’ll be the judge of that.” She led him to a booth in the corner of the restaurant that overlooked the planet and most of the shipyards. Tarrick sat down and opened the menu. When the waiter came up, he ordered a glass of Emerald wine. As he enjoyed the first sips of the wine, he looked around to see several other officers milling around.

[Aura Kolar]

(OOC - Couldn't have a bar full of drunk pilots and no fights)

Kaine felt a light tap on his shoulder. He turned to see one of the prettiest woman that he had seen in a while. He was actually caught by surprise. Looking down, but making an effort not to stare at her chest, Zethra saw that she wore the patch of Shadow Squadron.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I figured I'd introduce myself before you had all this fun by yourself. Name's Kerryna...I'm the newest Shadow. Call me Ker, since I don't have a callsign yet."

She flashed a wicked smile at him and Zethra felt a rush of heat run through his body. He turned his back on the Reavers.

“Hello Ker. I’m Zethra, Shadow Two, but I go by the name Decoy as well.” Zethra heard the Reavers behind him laugh. Unperturbed, he turned back to the three pilots. “Allow me to introduce you to Blanks, Green Piggy and Small Sausage. They are part of the Reavers.”

Facing the pilots he could see that they were close to violence. Might as well send them over the edge since they have come this far, thought Kaine.

“Now run away, little boys and play with each other’s sausage. I have better company to attend to.”

He gave the trio a dismissive wave, like a teacher dismissing students that she didn’t respect or care for. He knew it to be irritating and most people couldn’t control themselves… especially if they were drunk. And the Reaver pilots were very drunk.

<ST1:pFranklin off balance and he stumbled forward. As he did so, Zethra brought his glass of ale up and smashed it on the side of <?xml:namespace prefix = st1 ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-comhttp://www.sw-fans.net/forum/ /><st1:City w:st=Franklin</st1:City>’s fist shot out from his side, hoping to connect with Zethra’s face, but his drunken state caused him to be sloppy and slow. The punch sailed through the air but failed to connect with Zethra as he moved out of the way. The force of the punch took <st1:City w:st=" /><st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:pFranklin</st1:City>’s head. The glass shattered on his head and broke the skin right near his temple. Blood ran down his face, but that was the least of his worries. <st1:City w:st="on">Franklin</st1:City>’s eyes fluttered up and down and he went to the ground, knocked out by one blow. Non content with just a hit, Zethra kicked him in the ribs as hard as he could. That’s when the other pilots jumped in. The ones that flanked <st1:City w:st="on"><ST1:pFranklin</st1:City> tackled Zethra to the ground, trying to wrestling his arms behind him. Zethra let out a loud battle cry and managed to get one of his attackers in the groin with the heel of his boot. The man gave a high pitched cry and grabbed his boys.

"You even scream like a girl.” That was the last thing that Zethra could say as other Reaver pilots jumped into the fray.

[Aliya Vahlshalynn]

She got shoved into Better, her chin resting upon her old friend's shoulder and gave her a sheepish smile. "Sorry."

Clearing her throat, Aliya whirled around and went wide eyed and slacked jawed at the massive fight that broke out behind her. She knew Decoy was being a prick, but she couldn't have predicted that his mynocks were big enough to take on group of rivals that loathed the patch her wore.

Of course, trying to say anything at this point was useless with a bottle coming at her that one of the Reavers threw. She grabbed Shooter and tossed her out of the way and ducked herself, grabbing the stool for support so she wouldn't fall over.

She stood up chuckling and Better recognized that glint in her eye. "So Boss Lady, can we frell up the frellers or wait an' see how long the new guy lasts?"

[Malick Raine]

"Well yo..." Malick was about to say something to the devil man when Cael's drink was shoved into his arms. Malick juggled with it for a few moments before final getting control. He then just looked down at it and shrugged, without second thought he down what was left of it. Then he slid the empty glass onto the bar.

"Frakking piss water."

Malick watched as Cael was about to start a fight with shooter but before he could see what was going to happen Decoy had manage to start a fight of his own. He watch for a few moments, then grabbed his bottle and glass from the bar.

"I would suggest you leave Devil this could get messy. I think I will take my own advice as well."

Malick briefly looked down at his own shadow patch on his jacket then back up at the fight that brewing. Jason Dreggs had never been part of the shadow clique, he guessed by how he wasn't even acknowledged once since entering the bar neither would Malick Raine. No point in defending those that didn't care if you existed or where vaped into oblivion.

Malick thought for moment before setting his bottle and glass back down on the table. "Frak what the hell am I doing." He took off his Jacket and picked up Cael's empty glass from the bar. "This is stupid Jason." He said to himself under his breath as his footsteps started to move towards the fray.

As he reached the action he swung back with the glass but instead of smacking one of the reavers Cael's glass smashed into the side of Decoy's face. Then Malick just smiled a mischievous smile and screamed so the whole bar could hear him.

"DOWN WITH THE FRAKKING SHADOW'S!"

More than one fighter squadron hooped and hollered at his words. Now there would be more of a fight for his so called squad mates. He threw the handle of Cael's glass at their feet and pointed his hands at them in the shape of a gun.

"Frak you!" All hell was about to break loose on the shadow's and all Malick could do was smile at what where supose to be his squad mates.

[Aura Kolar]

Kaine managed to get up from the other Reaver pilot that had bore him to the ground. His shirt had been ripped, and he had a nice whelp forming around his right eye, but the other pilot had suffered more. His arm was arranged in a way that it would not hang naturally as Kaine has pulled it behind the pilot’s back for leverage and then had popped it out of socket. Then, doubling him over, he had slammed the pilot’s face into the ground, knocking him out. Feeling the adrenaline rush he turned to face the rest of the pilots.

“I’m a Frackin’ Sith Lord compared to you guys! You can touch m…”

It was about that time that a glass slammed against the side of his face. The room spun as Zethra found himself dazed from the attack. He was able to look back at the pilot who did it.

The pilot was familiar to him, but he couldn’t place him. He was either in his squadron, or Zethra had seen him on a sci-fi supernatural show.

Then it didn’t matter. Two more Reavers moved in and grabbed Kaine. They twisted his arms behind him and held him up at another pilot buried his fist into Zethra’s stomach. Zethra doubled over from the pain and almost lost his lunch. Another punch landed… then another. Just for variety, the pilot grabbed Zethra by his hair and yanked his head up.

"Is that all you got?”

In answer, Zethra spat blood all over the pilot’s uniform. Then the punching resumed.

[Bette Davis]

“Davis,” he barked. “Davis, you lousy drunk.”
"Commander Davis, before you respond, might I remind you of the reason you were consigned to the aforementioned 'nugget hell' in the first place."

She grabbed Shooter and tossed her out of the way and ducked herself, grabbing the stool for support so she wouldn't fall over.

She stood up chuckling and Better recognized that glint in her eye. "So Boss Lady, can we frell up the frellers or wait an' see how long the new guy lasts?"

The universe collapsed in on her and Bette felt like a shockball being tossed between players. First there was instant fury at Cael for calling her a drunk (she'd only had one drink, for frells sake!), then hesitation when Tannis cautioned her.

And then what was apparently a new Shadow was being attacked by Reaver pilots, the scum of the Navy. Chipper looked at her, and Bette wanted nothing more than to join her in regulating as the entire bar seemed to be getting as angry as Bathala against the Shadows.

"I -" Professor's eyes seemed to be boring holes into side of her head. "Call the MPs, V'larr. Chipper, lets break it up." Bette turned to Bathala, and added, "You too, Firefly. Looks like some frakkin' idiots took 'leave' of their senses."

She ducked a punch that was coming from beside Cael, and tripped over a fallen chair and landed on her ass.

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis's face had gone blank - not even a trace of baseline emotion to be seen. To those who knew how to read him, it meant he was angry.

It was the work of moments to get a commlink from the nervous bartender, who was all too happy to call in security. Once he'd been assured that help was on the way, Tannis rushed into the fray and grabbed the first pilot he found - Malick Raine - in an arm lock from behind. "Stand down, Lieutenant, or you will not see the inside of a cockpit for--"

A flying glass struck him in the side of the head, opening a seeping green gash and pitching him to the floor.

[Kerryna Khapst]

Could this possibly GET any better...

Ker shook her head as everything happened so fast it felt as if everything around her was moving too quickly to be seen. She stumbled back as the onslaught against Zethra began, her mind grasping at straws as she thought of a way to diffuse-

-the day a Khapst broke up a barfight was a sad one indeed-

-the situation. In the span of a heartbeat, the entire Cantina had turned against the Shadows, making them everyone's favorite targets as glasses and bottles took to the air. She muttered as she waded into the fray around Zethra once she caught sight of the Lieutenant Commander grabbing hold of the traitor wearing a Shadow patch.

The young woman was stronger than she looked as she started heaving Reaver pilots back towards their compatriots, until she was the last one left holding Zethra up by herself. In a parade-ground bellow that would make her father proud, she caught the idiots' attention.

"REAVERS! One comm call from me will make your upcoming assignment to CTU a living hell. So I suggest you back off unless you want Seargeant Khapst and Colonel Tahmores to rip you new ones." Her smile couldn't be called anything except vicious as she helped Zethra to a chair.

"Who the frak do you think you are, bitch?"

Ker laughed as she rested her hands on her hips and tilted her head, gazing at the man up and down. "My name is Kerryna Khapst. That makes Sargeant Soren Khapst my father, and Colonel Ethan Tahmores my uncle. Make a move, I dare you..."

She was actually disappointed as the Reavers stayed where they were and grumbled, hurling some colorful epithets her way. She snickered as she turned back to Zethra and decided she was putting the call in anyway. Ker glanced back to the bartender who tossed her a clean cloth, which she used to press against the freely bleeding gash on the side of his face.

[Cael Bathala]

- and like that, the tables had turned. Cael, with a twist of frustration on his lips, thrust a hand out towards Bette and pulled the Shadow firmly to her feet. “You and me are havin' words later.”

Behind them, the Reavers were getting riled up again. Alcohol, testosterone and a bunch of bruised egos made for a volatile cocktail. They shoved and jostled at one another, until one lost control and shouted: “I don't give two Sith shits who you're daddy is! You can take your name-dropping and shove it up your tight ass!”

In a split second, his fist was flying through the air. Cael didn't know the guy, didn't know Kerryna Khapst either – but that didn't stop him diving at the Reaver like a wegsphere charger. Shoulder driving into the drunks side, Bathala tackled him to the ground and wound up for a right hook that whipped the guy's head against the ground, his nostrils spitting blood.

[Jakys Sei'trem]

Huh, well now that was interesting. The Devaronian’s eyes followed the amusing pilot as he proceeded to bash a squadmate’s head in. My this wouldn’t look good for him, not that the buffoon who provoked this fracas didn’t deserve it. Heheh, these rocket jock types were funny.

….And that was when the melee headed in his direction.

Jakys side-stepped a Reaver, as the squadron was apparently called, that wasthrown in to the bar where he’d been resting. A petite woman with more arrogance than brains to her seemed to be the cause of the migration of “fun”.

Sei’Trem smiled, shoved the Reaver pilot aside, and sipped at his drink once again and watched. Fiery women were just damned attractive.

That makes Sargeant Soren Khapst my father, and Colonel Ethan Tahmores my uncle. Make a move, I dare you..."
<o></o>
His smile fell. Scratch that, spoiled child.<o></o>

“Oi!”<o></o>

No reaction. And the brawl still continued to escalate in violence. A Lieutenant Commander lay on the ground bleeding from the head, a Reaver pilot sprawled unconscious across a table, the swoop-race busily mangled another’s face, and glass was flying left and right.<o>

</o> It was getting deadlier. More boring too. He sighed and slammed down the rest of his drink. Oh well, best to put an end to this nonsense.<o>

</o> Jakys reached beneath his shirt with his free hand. The bartender’s eye widened as the Devaronian pulled out a disruptor pistol. He should’ve had to check the weapon with the security like everyone else…..and promptly get hauled off to prison for carrying an illegal weapon. But Jakys was higher on the totem pole than most people gave him credit.<o>

</o> An interesting fact about disruptors; they are fucking LOUD and tend to vaporize most things……like the table…..and chairs….and decorative plant….that simply disappeared into dust when Sei’Trem shot into an unoccupied corner of the room.<o>

</o> All eyes went to the Devaronian.<o>

</o> “Children, children.” Jakys almost ‘tsk’d as he leaned back against the bar. “I mean really, you’re all wearing the same FUCKING uniform.”<o>

</o><o>No hint of the backwater accent remained in the voice of Jakys Sei'Trem.
</o>

[Tannis V'larr]

The screech of the disruptor and the accompanying smell of ozone was enough to halt even the drunkest brawler. Tannis wasn't sure who the Devaronian was, but he was grateful for the reprieve. The silence in the room was a vacuum of power waiting to be filled.

His head throbbed, but restoring order was more important than his personal comfort. He hauled himself back to his feet, resisted rubbing at the seeping wound in his head, and roared in a voice impeccably tailored for command: "Shadows! Assemble!"

Tannis met the Devaronian's eyes, a silent thanks for his intervention as the Shadows filtered away from the rest of the rabble. Even with his hair slicked down with copper-based blood, Tannis managed to project an air of untouchable authority.

"Some of you are obviously too eager for action to enjoy a brief period of R&R. Very well. Shore leave ends now. We are transferring to the ISD-II Admonisher to be deployed for active duty. You will gather your belongings and assemble on the main flight deck of the Admonisher at thirteen hundred local. Anyone who arrives late is no longer a member of Shadow Squadron. Dismissed!"

[Aura Kolar]

Zethra struggled to his feet. His lip was split and his right eye had swollen shut. Ker had tried to clean up his face and he was greatful to have a beautiful girl looking over him. Of course it would take him some time to get back to his natural good looks.

The distinct sound of a disruptor followed by the smell of burning ozone. Who the hell brought a disruptor to a bar, thought Zethra. He looked around and saw that Mr. Pointy Eared Personality had it. That was some major marbles on that dude. On most worlds that would get him the death penalty.

Zethra steadied himself on a table that hadn't been destroy and made his way over to where the Shadows were grouping. Some of the pilots on the fringe of the battle made good their escape, suddenly making the overpacked bar almost seem empty.

Zethra took his place in line, but not before giving Franklin another kick in his face.

"Sir, we were just discussing the finer points of a specific take down manuever."

[Tiercel Habrok]

Habrok had begun to sit down. At least, until the idea of becoming a stationary target in what was fast becoming an all-out brawl made the idea a little less appealing. Tiercel had absolutely no desire whatsoever to become embroiled in the mess that was Shadow Squadron. They did a fine job, or so he had heard, but their off-duty antics left a lot to be desired. Rather than rubber-neck at the speeder-crash waiting to happen, Tiercel decided to pointedly ignore the unravelling mess and peered behind the bar at the long list of drinks on offer. Regrettably, he didn't have an explanatory pamphlet for all the weird and wonderful things that were on sale.

[Bette Davis]

Bette took Cael's hand, ready for a trick, but he just pulled her up. "Fine by me," she said, and then was taken aback by Professor shouting.

Instinct kicked in and she snapped to attention, but as Tannis continued talking her mouth began to drop open. Promoted and in command? As he dismissed the squadron (or the members present, anyway), she was going to say something, like what the frell is going on? Who's running the Empire these days, the alien appreciation league?

A pilot she'd not met, someone Chipper had called Decoy, kicked a groaning man on the floor and mouthed off to V'larr, effectively cutting off Bette's exclamations before they could start. And then the MPs arrived and the bar really began to empty. She wanted to see what Tannis would do, but instead she raised her eyebrows at him and nudged Cael who was standing nearby. "C'mon, Ensign. We do need to talk. But I have to pack."

[Kerryna Khapst]

She stopped in her tracks, jacket in one hand and her duffle bag in the other, dark eyes taking in the sight of the Devaronian. Not the first one she'd ever seen, as her father had had two under his command over the years, but the first one with such a distinct air of authority.

Fascinating, she mused as she gazed down at the chrono on her wrist. Thirteen hundred local - frak, that left Ker less than an hour to get to the Admonisher and not get loast aboard it. Pity...she'd have like to talk to him and gotten a closer look at that disruptor.

Smiling, she turned and began making her way out of the cantina amidst the flood of pilots.

[Tannis V'larr]

"Sir, we were just discussing the finer points of a specific take down manuever."

Tannis's had expended his patience with the new Shadow and saw no reason to humor him. "You are welcome to continue your discussion in the brig, Lieutenant. Otherwise, I will see you aboard the Admonisher."

He returned to the bar and retrieved his kiva juice, which somehow had escaped the fracas unharmed, and he used the damp napkin it was sitting on to daub some of the blood from the side of his head. He frowned at the green smear it produced and approached Bette and Cael.

"I apologize for cutting our festivities short, Commander Davis," he said. "I had hoped for a more auspicious beginning to our newly formed squadron." He sipped his kiva juice and nodded toward Cael. "Ensign Bathala."

[Cael Bathala]

Arms like steel cable crossed over his chest, Cael nodded to himself as he look sidelong at V'larr.

“You picked the wrong time and place for a reunion.. sir.”

[Tannis V'larr]

"Evidently," Tannis replied. "In any case, after checking in we can reconvene in the pilot's club aboard Admonisher. That would include you as well, Mr. Bathala."

[Aura Kolar]

Tarrick closed his mouth and stood there. No matter what, he didn't want to get stuck in the brig on this station.

"Yes, sir." As Tannis turned back to the bar, Zethra quickly made his escape from the bar, past the stormies. As he walked he put a hand over his stomach. It was sore from all the punishment it had absorbed. He could go to the medical wing, but that would get back around to Franklin and he wasn't going to give him the time of day. Also, he had less than an hour to transfer over to the Admonisher.

Turning left, he made his way down the corridor toward the temporary housing the station had that for officers in transition. While there, he packed up all his belongings in his duffle and grabbed two bacta patches... one for his stomach and the other for his head. On the message board was a broadcast for all the Shadows. Their fighters were already moved over to the Admonisher and the last shuttle would leave in 30 minutes for the ship. Speeding up, he was able to make the last shuttle, where he recognized one of his fellow squad mates... Ker.

"Hey Ker, wait up."

[Cael Bathala]

“Thanks for the offer, but I'll pass on the tour of the new digs. If Davis is leaving the Kalidor, that puts Captain Tavik in charge.”

Bathala had already spotted Vikki 'Flashfire' Tavik in the bar with another of the Bloodfin squadron. The Strike-class cruiser was beyond the kinds of 'minor repairs' that most of the other docked ships were in for, so Cael knew it wouldn't be long before Vice Admiral Jonos had them heading out to the black again.

“Tavik won't wait up for stragglers and I got no desire to be stranded here.”

[Bette Davis]

Who died and put you in charge, Professor? No, that wasn't funny enough. And TIE pilots died all the time.

Bette focused in on what Bathala was saying and interjected, "Yeah, I need to get my stuff before it blasts off without me. And maybe you should have told me you were Shadow Lead before making me accept the transfer! Krasst! I guess they'll just promote anyone these days. The whole Empire is going to hell in a repulsor cart." She faked a punch at Tannis' shoulder.

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis looked perturbed. "I intended to tell you before we were interrupted. I believed you would relish an opportunity to resume your old post. However, if you fear you would find my leadership too onerous, you are welcome to remain in your current position as Hellfire Lead."

He took another sip of kiva juice. "Either way, you will be transferring to the Admonisher."

[Cael Bathala]

V'larr was so off-hand, so nonchalant, that Cael almost missed the meaning of his words. His forehead wrinkled with a frown. “Hellfire's being reassigned with the Shadows?”

[Bette Davis]

Bette's mouth fell open, and then she closed it.

Then she opened it again.

Closed.

She was beginning to look like a gasp fish from Naboo. "I was going to say that you apparently still don't have a grasp of human humor, but maybe you do after all."

[Tannis V'larr]

"The executive officer aboard Kalidor insisted on it as a condition of Commander Davis's transfer," Tannis replied. "I presumed it was because he did not want to disrupt the rapport you had already built with the Hellfires..."

Upon monitoring the changes in both Davis's and Bathala's facial expressions he stopped himself. "Ah. Humor. Of course."

[Bette Davis]

Bette screwed up her face, wrinkling her nose, and said, "Dammit V'larr, of course I still want to come back to the Shadows. Even more now that you're Lead, you green blooded idiot. Uh, with all due respect sir."

She looked at Cael, and then back to Tannis. "And that I keep to keep track of my little nuggets still is just icing on the cake."

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis arched an eyebrow. "I am gratified to hear it. And, of course, that means that I am now authorized to give this to Mr. Bathala."

He fished a datapad from the pocket of his uniform jacket and handed it to Cael - written orders from Fleet Command.

[Vitra Karr]

"Your transfer orders, probably nothing you haven't already heard. Of course they are pending until my final approval. Sadly I won't have the time to evaluate your flying skills before we're scheduled to leave the yards, so this will have to be a bit of a more verbal analysis." An appropriate pause was given to let that sit in, allow for Karr to ask any questions if she hadn't heard properly over the roar of the other pilots. Silence followed, so Captain Tavik continued, "You can start by telling me what brings a member of the military to the star fighter corps."

The young woman took a moment to peruse the datapad, re-reading the orders she'd already committed to heart. And what little of that vital organ remained was painfully tight in her chest. This really was it - an ignoble end to a promising career already brimming with commendations and the ascension to her own command.

Vitra took a sip of her drink and set the datapad back down before forming a reply. "Truthfully? It wasn't by choice. With fewer pilots of the right caliber coming out of the academies, they've instituted mandatory testing in some of the military branches. I passed one too many pilot aptitude tests with flying colors, so they stripped me of my command, demoted me a rank, and made me a pilot. I was rushed through a condensed training course at Carida and had been stationed on the Borealis as part of the 128th."

Another sip and a smirk curled her lips as she continued. "Unfortunately, the CAG on the Borealis is a sore loser and stuck with the callsign 'Ice Queen'. I was shipped out here to join your squadron once word reached the proper ears."

[Cael Bathala]

“Rapport? ...frakkin' Wystalin,” Cael muttered, shaking his head.

He had to admit, the idea of getting away from Colonel Trust-Fund had its appeal. A smile was just spreading on his face when Tannis thrust a datapad in his hands. Cael thumbed the card and glanced over the contents. Whoever had written the brief had addressed him as Lieutenant Bathala and commended unto him the leadership and success of the Imperial starfighter squadron designation: Hellfire.

Bathala's eyes lifted, sharply. “This some kinda joke?”

[Bette Davis]

Bette peeked over Bathala's arm at the datapad. "Lieutenant V'l- Lieutenant Commander V'larr doesn't do jokes."

She scanned the text, and bit her lip. "Yeah, we really should talk, Bathala."

[Tannis V'larr]

Tannis downed the last of his kiva juice. "In any case, I have monopolized your time long enough. Congratulations, Lieutenant Bathala. I look forward to serving with you and your squadron. Commander Davis, I will see you in the hangar bay."

The Sikarran halfbreed left his glass on the bar and strode out the front door.

[Cael Bathala]

Cael watched the Lieutenant Commander until he became a part of the crowd, then looked back down at his orders. Davis was still reading over his shoulder.

“Funny... it says here that a superior officer recommended me for the position.”

[Bette Davis]

She coughed and backed away, "We better get the other nuggets accounted for, Lieutenant, don't want to leave them behind. Who'd wipe their asses for them?"

Davis swept out of the now quiet bar, wondering if Chipper had stuck around, but it appeared the other pilot had moved on per Professor's instructions.

[Vikki Tavik]

Leave it to Reaver squadron to start some shit... and for Shadow to answer the call. As the short fight broke out and was halted, Tavik was more than pleased that her pilots had the sense to stay the hell out of it. Though she knew it had a great deal to do with her presence in the bar. As a large chunk of the pilots began to file out of the bar, she felt it a bit of a relief. The overall volume in the place went down a few notches, much more appropriate for actually speaking.

The story Vitra wove wasn't completely unheard of, even more so when it came to the end result of a person being transferred to the Kalidor. It seemed the poor tasting nicknames were becoming more than just that... it really was becoming Command's trash heap. A place to throw those they rather forget existed.

The mention of the 'Ice Queen' brought a small smile to Tavik's lips... she'd met the CAG of the Borealis once before, though despite the various comparisons between the two of them their conversation had been only bordering on civil. Tavik suspected it was probably that way with a lot of individuals of their nature... admittedly though the finer point she grasped from the mention of the fabled 'Ice Queen' wasn't so much nostalgia as Flashfire wondering just how fast Lieutenant Karr would end up getting on her nerves.

Though so far so good...

"While on the Borealis did you ever engage in any actual combat?"

While waiting for the answer, Tavik caught sight of Habrok out of the corner of her eye, squinting at the beverage list on the wall. The roll of her eyes was only slight before she turned to the Gunner.

"If you're with me, then I'm going to consider you on-duty." The stern tone cut through the air like a knife before she took another glance at the list and then back to Habrok. "Get a beer or similar, I rather not have to call Muldoon to help me drag you back to the ship because you got something that kicked your ass."

[Tiercel Habrok]

A comment like that might have warranted a biting reply from any other member of Bloodfin Squadron and although Tiercel was in half a mind to reply, in the end he pressed his lips together into a line and looked back towards the bar. He glanced down the counter, at another pilot who was gathering up a line of pint glasses which he was apparently planning to carry all on his own, in a precarious balancing act. With a quick glance over his shoulder at the Captain and the new recruit, he pulled his eyes back to the bartender to make his order.

“Three pints of Polanis ale.”

[Jakys Sei'trem]

When the MPs arrived, over half of them made a bee-line for Jakys. Not that he blamed them, when everyone kept at least a five meter berth it got fairly obvious as the whom might be causing trouble. Well, that and the disruptor he now wore openly in a holster beneath the silk shirt, now unbuttoned.

Beneath the extravagant get-up the Devaronian was wearing some odd body-glove with what looked like very thin metallic plating. Almost like lizard scales.

The MPs came up to him with weapons drawn. They weren’t trying to make too big a scene, but the poor officers definitely kept wide eyes on the deadly gun packed away in the armpit holster.

“Sir, put your hands behind you head and turn around.”

Sei’Trem just glanced around and produced an engraved seal and insignia while the pilots were engrossed with their own affairs.

“Easy gents, nothing to see here. If you’ll excuse me, I have some people to talk to.”

If anything, the MP’s reactions were quite hilarious….at least to Jakys….as the almost scrambled to back away from him.

He was about to head out of the bar when he caught some conversation about a promotion of a particular swoop racer. Sei’Trem patted Cael on the shoulder.

“Congratulations, Lieutenant. Patience rewards, we all start in mud licking boots.”

[Kerryna Khapst]

Speeding up, he was able to make the last shuttle, where he recognized one of his fellow squad mates... Ker.

"Hey Ker, wait up."She'd shrugged into her red leather jacket and slung her bag over her shoulder as she'd walked, her boots making little noise on the durasteel decking that comprised the shuttle's ramp. Turning, she looked for the source of the voice calling her name, and smiled.

"Hey Zethra...patched up already?" Ker asked, stopping to let him catch up to her position.

[Aliya Vahlshalynn]

She coughed and backed away, "We better get the other nuggets accounted for, Lieutenant, don't want to leave them behind. Who'd wipe their asses for them?"

Davis swept out of the now quiet bar, wondering if Chipper had stuck around, but it appeared the other pilot had moved on per Professor's instructions.

Soon as Shooter was in view, a playful punch got her right in the shoulder blade. She glanced over towards the bar entrance and then back to her buddy. "Well that's one helluva way to end a promotion party. Ah well."

She wrapped an arm around Bette and winked, "Should we wait for the Prof or get a move on?"

[Bette Davis]

She jumped back, fists coming up on instinct, but then relaxed when she saw it was just Aliya. Bathala was still inside the bar, and Bette shook her head at Vahlshalynn's question. "Lets get out of here. I need to get back to Kalidor and get my things."

She looked at the other pilot, wondering if she was still the same. "What have you been up to, since ... I left?" While they talked they were walking up the promenade towards where the cruiser was docked.

[Aura Kolar]

"Hey Zethra...patched up already?"

Zethra smiled as much as his split lip would let him. Already the bruise over his eye was beginning to swell and he had a throbbing headache where Schitzo had smashed a glass on his head. He would deal with that Zombie Mouth Raper later.

"As fit as I need to be to get off this station and avoid some time in a detention center."

By this point he had pulled even with Ker on the ramp. "I hope that I was quite entertaining, but I saw you are able to handle yourself. Your callsign should be Blindside. I don't think anyone saw what you did coming."

Zethra took a seat in the shuttle and motioned for Ker to sit beside him. They must have been the last two because the shuttle was already raising its ramp and its repulsorlifts were kicking in as they took their seats. Zethra leaned in close to Ker.

"I hear that 2 of the Reavers are going to need surgery for their injuries... and one of them was the pilot that you tossed around like a ragdoll."

[Kerryna Khapst]

"Blindside? We'll see about that..." Ker grinned, shrugging out of her jacket as they walked into the shuttle to look for seats.

Tossing her bag in the overhead compartment, she held her jacket in her lap as she sat beside him. Gods, she mused, he took a hell of a beating...wonder if I've got any bacta...rising briefly, she stretched to reach her bag and plucked a tiny blue bag out of the exterior pocket.

Opening it, her fingers settled on a small silver pack as Zethra leaned in. Her lips curled into a wicked grin, "Guess you'd better stay on my good side, then...I'm stronger than I look." She held up the pack of bacta patches, the adhesive squares small but packing a concentrated and effective amount.

[Vitra Karr]

She lofted a brow as she mulled over her answer, toying with her glass before nodding for the bartender to take it away. The silver threads in her irises flickered and resolved into miniscule cross-hatches, focusing briefly on the fracas that had erupted and ended in the same breath. A look of supreme disdain crossed her features for the lot involved, among faintly muttered words in Hapan about how that never would have happened under her command.

But that, she mused, was neither here nor there, and Tavik was still waiting on an answer from her.

"Only two real combat missions, both against Rebels. Three kills to my credit so far." Vitra finally said with a bit of pride edging into her voice.

[Aura Kolar]

Zethra watched as she took out the bacta patches. “Don’t worry. Getting my ass kicked by three guys is tolerable. Getting my ass pummeled by a single girl… not so cool. You are single, right?”

Zethra had been angling in on that pickup line since the shuttle lifted off. He gave her another grin… as much as his lip would allow him.

Off in the distance, the viewport was filled with the site of the ISD Admonisher. Home, Sweet Home, he thought. The shuttle descended, swooping down under the ridgeline of the destroyer, heading for the hangar bay. Her wings started to close up, preparing for landing.

He turned back to Kerr. “Fix my boo-boos?”

[Tiercel Habrok]

Three kills! Tiercel almost spat out a mouthful of his drink. As a gunner, he'd mown down bandits by the dozen. He could have probably flown in Hellfire Squadron, but the thought of putting in a transfer request was... well, unthinkable. The only way to depart Bloodfin Squadron was with an explosion, the kind which didn't leave a lot of evidence behind and generally sent you on a one-way ticket to becoming part of the nearest asteroid field.

[Aliya Vahlshalynn]

She jumped back, fists coming up on instinct, but then relaxed when she saw it was just Aliya. Bathala was still inside the bar, and Bette shook her head at Vahlshalynn's question. "Lets get out of here. I need to get back to Kalidor and get my things."

She looked at the other pilot, wondering if she was still the same. "What have you been up to, since ... I left?" While they talked they were walking up the promenade towards where the cruiser was docked.

"Yeah sure thing, Shooter. I'll walk ya there," she grinned and pulled her arm away and thought about her answer. "Honestly? Not much of anything. Got some shore leave, which I got into some trouble in."

She chuckled and leaned in to whisper, "Which made me a nice few creds I might add. But," Aliya returned to a more conversational tone, "Besides that, the usual. Drinking, blowing dren up and missing the hell outta you guys. Glad the crew's back together."

[Vikki Tavik]

Flashfire caught the sudden twitch that came from Habrok, she might have had a similar reaction if she hadn't been as disciplined as she demanded herself to be. Three kills, two combat missions. Figures that would have sounded impressive to someone used to working on the ground, probably in more specialized missions. There could also be the assumption that what flights Karr had been a part of were direct tangles with the Rebellion, quick hit or get hit situations where one side would rather pull back than watch an entire ship be lost. Squadrons didn't generally go entirely missing in those situations, but still. Three kills. Hardly enough to carry an air like it made you somebody.

The bartender, finally comfortable that the ruckus had quieted down, finally brought the three glasses of ale that the Ensign had ordered and set one down in front of each of them. A modest nod of thanks of was given to "Quick Draw" before Tavik took the first cool sip.

"I expect you to at least double that number on your first flight out with the Bloodfins." Her words came out without any hint of her thoughts on the matter and another small drink of the glass was taken. "Triple of the number of bandits allow."

[Malick Raine]

During the fighting V'larr put him in an arm bar and told him to settle down. Malick was about to mouth off when luck landed his way once again and Tannis got knocked over the head with bottle. Malick went down with him but once they hit the floor before V'larr came to Malick scuttled off threw the crowd on his hands and knees.

He managed to make it to a booth off in a corner of the tavern and slink in but soon after the excitement started to settle. As the devil man fired a disruptor to quit everyone down. Then security came marching in late for the party as always. Malick just watched from the booth happy in having gotten lost when he did.

V'larr made his proclamation to shadow squadron to show his authority of rank. As the bar started to clear out and most of the shadows left Malick watched Aliya and Bette the last of his troop vacate the premises. He sighed as he watched Aliya go; she was the one that wanted him to get out. Yet as soon as she met with her old buddies he was turned the outcast once more.

After they had left he got up from where he had hidden himself away and walked to the bar. He grabbed his flight jacket looking at it in disgust as he flung it over his shoulder. He then grabbed his bottle of whiskey that strangely had not been harmed in the brawl and made his way for the exit.

He passed by Karr, Tavik, and Habrok's table. They were in some sort of interview it seemed like one group asking question and solo woman answering. He stopped at their table for only a moment looking at both Karr and Tavik, ignoring Habrok.

"Evening ladies." He gave them a wink and smile before going on his way.

[Vitra Karr]

She set aside her now empty glass and tilted her head, the silver threads rising to the surface of her irises as she glanced first at Vikki. A moment later her gaze passed over Tiercel, briefly settling on his features as she nodded her own thanks.

"Consider it done." Vitra said simply, her voice devoid of inflection save for a touch of her Hapan accent.

Clasping the glass in her left hand, she peered into it for a moment before taking a sip. The cool, crisp ale was rather a delicious change from the sweet mixed drink she'd just finished. Turning to face Vikki, she leaned her side into the bar as she posed a question.

"What can you tell me about the Kalidor and her commander? Anything I should know ahead of time?"

[Kerryna Khapst]

"Single? Mostly, yes. And that's a terrible line, by the way." She shook her head with a smile and watched out the viewport as they approached the Admonisher, eyes following the various shuttles and service ships traveling back and forth. It never ceased to amaze her, and knowing that she'd be living aboard this particular ship for a good long while was a thrilling thought.

Ker arched a brow and half smiled at Zethra's obvious ploy, deciding for the moment to humor him. With a gentle touch, she applied several of the highly concentrated bacta patches to the worst of the wounds on his face, pausing as the shuttle gave a soft thump to signal it had landed.

[Vikki Tavik]

Karr had earned another point by seemingly ignoring the Shadow Squadron boy. There were women in the Empire who would have been disgustingly smitten that they were even noticed by a member of the elite group, the lack of reaction on the woman's part let Tavik know at least she was serious about her job. This wasn't some social call, after all there was a time and a place and it appeared Karr knew both. Good, if she'd reacted differently Tavik may have just been tempted to leave her behind somehow.

"There's a lot of scuttlebutt about the Kalidor, and most of it is just that. Take everything you think you know and throw it right out the airlock. We may not have the most glorious of details but we pride ourselves on being one of the finest ships regardless. Seemingly dull missions or not, it's what we're given and we do it well. There's no room on the Kalidor for slackers..." The thought of Hellfire made her cringe a bit.

"As for Admiral Jonos, I'm sure you've heard things about him too. Probably some idiot mentioning in passing that he should have retired a long time ago or some other crap. They couldn't be more wrong, you're entering a ship full of individuals who know he is more than capable of handling his crew. We could run alongside the more illustrious flights and they all know it. He doesn't need to command the crew's respect, he just gets it." There was a passion in her tone that was barely contained. Captain Tavik as well as practically every other crewmate of the Kalidor held a deep sense of loyalty to the Old Man, and most would gladly take a blaster bolt for him. It was hard to present that without sounding overly flowery... but Flashfire knew that Karr would find out for herself soon enough.

The Captain allowed herself another drink from the ale, if nothing else than to give herself a moment bring herself back to a calm and centered place.

"Really the only thing you have to worry about is Wystalin..." All manner of horrible things regarding the XO came to mind, but a certain amount of professionalism called for her to hold her tongue... no matter how much she wanted to mouth off about the fact the rich boy had no place being in any sort of command anywhere. How the trust-fund-prince must have bought his way to his rank. How every female member of the Kalidor wanted to string him up by his entrails somewhere in the cargo hold. "... just keep your distance from the Colonel."

[Vitra Karr]

"I look forward to serving under the Admiral. While I've heard much of what you mentioned, I've heard equal amounts of praise, believe it or not. He does have some few supporters...at least, that's my understanding."

Vitra nodded and sipped from her ale, distantly pleased with how well this initial meeting seemed to be going. She was also quite thankful that the ruckus had died down to a semblance of order, so neither woman had to shout in order to be heard.

Wystalin.

A sour expression marred her features for a brief moment, before she managed to breathe and center herself once more. There wasn't a woman in the Empire, she wagered, that hadn't been warned about or heard of the trust-fund-prince. His trangressions and sheer lack of...well, tact, decorum, propriety, manners, intelligence, ability to lead...that was enough to make Vitra wish she'd brought her knives.

Her people had solutions for men like him. Painful ones.

"Duly noted, thank you. The Colonel's reputation precedes him, however...he was well known and poorly spoken of on the Borealis, to put it mildly."