Clipped Wings

[Tera Uolmi]

The gym aboard the Challenger was all but empty. Tera stood beside the weight bench. She had one hand on her hip and the other, slipped out of the sling which had been holding her left arm in place, was folded across her body. Her brows were pinched in a frown as she looked, almost defiantly, down at the bench and its barbell.

The rest of Rogue Squadron were in the air, right at that moment. The commander had told her to sit the patrol out and, when Tera had flat-out refused, had ordered her to sit it out. Rogue Nine was still recovering after taking an unexpected detour at the hands of the Jedi Anbira Hicchoru, which meant that Jamo was flying Rogue Two. Her fighter. The prospect of letting loose on a punching bag became all the more appealing the more she thought about it, but the ever-rational part of Tera's mind told her that would do her no good.

Her jaw tightly set, Razor swore, “Xo's Eye.”

[Aris V'larr]

Like any good Sikarran, Captain Aris V'larr pursued all of her daily activities as a matter of ordered efficiency. Only a significant change in assignment could force her to alter her carefully arranged regimen. Unfortunately, the absorption of the Thunderbolts into the unconventional fleet structure of the Wheel had done just that, as the interceptor squadron's primary duties had changed from aggressive sorties at the spearhead of the Fifth Fleet to Force Combat Air Patrol around a ramshackle flotilla of capital ships and unarmed transports. While others may have begrudged the reassignment from a high-profile post to one of absolute secrecy, Aris was more concerned about the disruption of her carefully managed routines.

Happily there was still time for thirty-nine point four minutes of exercise immediately before breakfast. The Sikarran pilot entered the gym wearing a light, spotlessly white robe, one of her few native possessions from her homeworld of Epsilon Eridani, which she shrugged off, neatly folded, and placed in her usual locker. Clad in sweat pants and a black undershirt, she strode to the padded mat and began her stretches with meditative, ceremonial precision, seemingly oblivious to the Rogue pilot by the weight bench.

[Tera Uolmi]

Tera didn't acknowledge the new arrival at first. Although many of her squad-mates had gone out of their way to earn Rogue Squadron a reputation for boisterous, reckless behaviour, Tera upheld at least an air of sobriety and martial discipline. Somehow, that made it all the more frustrating that the likes of Iyar Thiled and Jamo Jakatta were in the air – in her sodding fighter! – and she was busy losing a staring match with a barbell.

She sank onto the bench and scooped up a hand-weight, testing it with her good arm. It didn't feel too heavy, but she was naturally cautious as she passed it to her injured arm. Just a flicker of pain registered on her features as she folded her arm, clenching fist brushing against her shoulder.

[Aris V'larr]

Aris proceeded through her dance-like motions, sparing only momentary glances for the other woman in the gym. As several channels of her mind were already occupied with maintenance schedules, training regimens, roster rotations, and ordnance requisitions, she opened a new line of thought to determine whether she should know who the yellow-haired woman was. There was, after all, a wisdom in exchanging pleasantries with one's new colleagues.

She broke off her stretches one point seven minutes earlier than normal and strode over to the free-weights. "Greetings." She scanned the equipment rack and selected a pair of ten-kilo hand weights, then stole another look at the stranger's arm. "That is a recent injury. Are you recuperating to your satisfaction?"

[Tera Uolmi]

A blunt comeback leapt up Tera's throat and was about to tumble past her lips when she caught herself, her frown deepening. No jeer, no innuendo. It took a moment to even register what she was hearing.

“No. The healing process is slow.”

She paused and watched the rise and fall of the weights in Aris' hands.

“You are with one of the Wheel's new fighter squadrons?”

[Aris V'larr]

"I am. Captain Aris V'larr, Thunderbolt Seven, Callsign 'Angel.'"

She settled into a steady rhythm with the weights, her breathing perfectly attuned to the rise and fall of her arms. Sikarran strength was just slightly below human standards, and it was a dedicated effort to stay in the same league as her squadmates.

"And you?" She already had a guess who she was, having seen the list of inactives, but it was only polite to allow her to introduce herself.

[Tera Uolmi]

Holding the dumbell unsteadily in her left hand, Tera fought the urge to stand up as a matter of reflex. A handshake was hardly appropriate when both women were carrying free-weights, and a saluting from a sitting position looked – wrong.

“Flight Officer Uolmi, callsign Razor. Rogue.. Two.”

She'd been Rogue Five for so long that her rank and number had become a mantra, recited without even a thought. It took an effort to remind herself that she was Two now, and wingman to Captain Luka. Traditionally, now was the time when pilots would reminisce that they had heard of one another's exploits and trade kill-counts. Tera wasn't much for that sort of nostalgia, but the Captain's name did trigger a vague collection.

“V'larr... that name is familiar. Where else have you been stationed?”

[Aris V'larr]

"I was transferred to the Challenger after the liberation of Bothawui," Aris replied. "Before that, I was part of the two hundred twelfth Hellcats aboard the Prestige in the Fifth Fleet."

There was no hint of recognition in Tera's face. Aris stopped lifting and steeled herself.

"Of course, it's also possible you've heard of my brother, Tannis. The last I heard, he was flying with Shadow Squadron."

[Tera Uolmi]

“A Shadow.”

There wasn't a pilot in all the galaxy who hadn't heard of the Shadows. They were the ying to the Rogue's yang, the chalk to their cheese – and like all good fighter squadrons, the long-serving members were infamous. Tannis V'larr was most definitely a name she'd heard before.

“So, which of you turned your back on the other?”

The question was phrased without a hint of malice. It simply seemed logical to Uolmi that one of them must have betrayed the ideals that both of them had been brought up to believe in.

[Aris V'larr]

It was not as sharp a reaction as Aris had feared, but, then, divided families were not at all uncommon in the political paroxysms of civil war. Most everyone who served with the Rebels had someone in their family, extended or otherwise, who believed them to be a traitor. She and Tannis had been so branded by their entire species.

"That is, to use the human parlance, 'a long story,'" Aris replied. "My people are taught to value peace above all else, to the point of assuming an attitude of neutrality in all external conflicts. In that respect, Tannis and I could both be considered rebels for choosing to fight at all. Suffice it to say, we differ in our opinions as to which faction is more likely to leave the galaxy in a state of peace."

She sat on a bench opposite Tera and began lifting the weights behind her head to work her triceps. "And you, Ms. Uolmi? How have you come to join the Alliance?"

[Tera Uolmi]

“I was born and.. raised, if you can call it that, on Kessel. The Alliance gave me my freedom, so I have given them my life.”

To her mind, it was a fair trade and Tera's tone remained casual, as if she had long ago accepted her lot in life. The thought of being stranded in the spice mines, still, made even her temporary absence from active duty seem like a blue milk run.

“You don't hold joining the Empire against your brother, then?”

[Aris V'larr]

That she had risen to so demanding an occupation out of a life of forced servitude was admirable. While the Alliance could not afford to be terribly discriminating about the personnel it admitted to its ranks, even an Thunderbolt had to respect the standard of excellence set by Rogue Squadron - in service, if not in professionalism.

"A grudge is an emotional dependency on rehearsing the wrongs of the past," she replied. "It is, by definition, counter-productive. The reality is that the next time we meet, we will likely try to kill each other. I prefer not to dwell unduly on it."

A ripple of pain made its way to Tera's face, causing Aris to tilt her head by a degree in what might have been called empathy.

"How were you injured?""

[Tera Uolmi]

“Bandomeer. Our mission intel was inadequate and lead to a difficult confrontation. A trip caught me with my guard down, blew me out of the cockpit.”

She glanced down at the injured arm. Some of the bruising was still visible and her bones throbbing with an ache that was quickly becoming part of the every-day background noise in her subconscious.

“I collided with a laser-tip. Rogue Thirteen fished me out of the black... saved my life,” she added, without a trace of heart-felt generosity. She felt about as much love for Sanis Prent as Aris V'larr felt for her estranged brother.

[Aris V'larr]

Aris nodded soberly. It was no small marvel that the Alliance had managed to populate its fighter ranks with such a high quality of craft as the X-Wing and A-Wing starfighters, far and away superior to the rank-and-file TIE/lns and even to the TIE Interceptors in similar numbers. But the Rebels simply had no answer to the TIE Defender in the hands of a skilled pilot.

"You should count yourself fortunate, then," she said. "I have not yet had the occasion to engage a TIE Defender. I would not relish doing so in an X-Wing."

[Tera Uolmi]

“Captain Luka has been wracking his brains, trying to come up with new strategies in case we do run into a Defender squadron again soon. It didn't help that we weren't prepared, but we're supposed to be the best... we should be able to adapt.” Carefully, Tera eased the free-weight down onto the bench space between her legs.

“Or, the others should at least. I don't think the Captain is willing to let me back in the cockpit for a long while. I'm... not sure what I'm supposed to do, until then.”

[Aris V'larr]

Tera's frustration was palpable - it didn't take an empath to sense it. For her part, Aris could sympathize. She would feel just as restless were she removed from flight status for any reason. Not that she would ever betray her emotional state, but Tera was human. For her, it was only natural. And that gave Aris an idea.

"If you would indulge me, Lieutenant, perhaps we could, to borrow the aphorism, kill two mynocks with one missile."

She knew her wordplay in Basic was still less than adroit, but it appeared she had Tera's attention.

"Most of our flight training focuses on the rank-and-file TIE/lns and Interceptors. However, as the war progresses, it is only reasonable to expect the Empire to step up its production of more advanced designs - and not only Defenders, but Avengers (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/TIE/ad_starfighter), Aggressors (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/TIE_Aggressor), and Hunters (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/TIE_Hunter) as well. For the past several weeks, I have been developing a series of war games exercises designed to familiarize our pilots with the capabilities of these craft. I believe your experience could be of considerable assistance."

[Tera Uolmi]

Tera nodded grimly. There weren't many pilots who had stories to tell about their encounters with TIE Advanced and Hunter models, mostly on account of those encounters ending with a sudden, unexpected explosion. The Rebellion had been on its back-heel for so long that they'd foregone all but the most basic of tactics. Attached the Wheel, the Rogue's spent most of their time simply holding the enemy at bay whilst the civilian fleet escaped to hyperspace. It wasn't war, so much as it was waving in front of the enemies scopes, to distract them from the inviting target presented by ships like the Whaladon.

“Go on...”

[Aris V'larr]

"How would you like to become a TIE pilot, Flight Officer Uolmi?'

There was a slight tightening of the muscles at the corners of Aris's mouth, just enough to suggest a smile.

"As I'm sure you're aware, there is a profound difference between shooting down computer-controlled holograms in a flight simulator and engaging a flesh-and-blood adversary in an actual starfighter. With the help of the Challenger deck crew, I am in the process of retrofitting a pair of A-Wings to match the sublight performance specs of advanced TIE models, sacrificing weapons and shields for acceleration and maneuverability. Weapons can be simulated - flight patterns cannot. As someone who has seen a TIE Defender first-hand, you could be a great help in ensuring the authenticity of our exercises."