The Flyboy (Kes)

[Kes Akiena]

Accepting the flimsi with a gracious nod and his usual smile, Kes gave it a fleeting glance before letting his eyes track back to Mr. Rabeak. A returned sideways glance to Taassaurra made it abundantly clear that the woman was staring, and clearing his throat, the shortest of the three stepped halfway to the side.

"Preita'rrou Taassaurra, I'd like to introduce you to Mr. Rabeak. He's our newest transfer to Titan Squad."

His gaze went back to Joey.

"Mr. Rabeak, this is Preita'rrou Taassaurra, my senior comms officer. You won't find a pair of more sensitive ears."

At that he turned a cheeky smile and a wink to the taller woman. Despite her timidness, the Preita'rrou had steel in her spine and a particularly amazing knack for hearing things.

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

It was a bit of damning with praise, and Kiimi's very forward-oriented ears relaxed their posture when Akiena called her on it. The Preita'rrou kept any bashful tell on her face hidden, and the raised tuft of her tail out of sight.

"Hello P-p-pjilot Rrabeak. New trranssferr to Tjitan N-n-njine? jI'll upd-date the boarrd."

[Joey Rabeak]

For a brief moment, Joey felt the clammy grip of uncertainty upon his neck. Preita'rrou was a Cizerack rank, and Ms. Taassaurra was most decidedly a Cizerack herself, yet she reported to Commander Akiena. Did that make her Alliance? Or Cizerack military? Or Alliance-friendly partner military? While he'd been trained to fight, fly, and withstand intense G-forces, the topic of how to refer to associated-yet-non-direct-Alliance personnel had never been on any of his study material.

Hope for the best, prepare for the worst, Joey straightened his posture and greeted Kiimiti with a crisp salute. "Ma'am, yes ma'aam," he said with a nod. "Just arrived from the Academy this, uh, morning? I'm on my way to go check in with Lt. Mazeran." In that moment he realized he didn't know what the local time was, but something felt morning-ish about it. Another conundrum scampered to the forefront of the pilot's mind, turning his cocky smile nervous.

"Though I'm not entirely sure where to find him."

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

Kiimi knew, of course. Hours of manning the conn station, tending to the grid, and updating the board meant that she almost always had her finger on the pulse of every domiciled ship coming or going from Jovan.

"Tjitan ss-ss-ssquadrron jiss on patrrol at g-grrjid thrree-two-f-fourr, due b-b-back at zerro njine th-thjirrtjy."

Of course, that didn't help Pilot Rabeak. That left him with two hours of drifting listlessly aboard station. Of course, he could always spend that time drawing necessities from the commissary, sizing up his new living quarters, or getting lost in the sea of bodies down in the concourse.

And while it might be helpful for a newcomer to get the lay of the land from a seasoned veteran, Kiimi was hardly the gladhanding sort. Hi, how are you? Here's where you sleep and here's where you put your stuff. Okay, bye! She did her best not to cringe at her simulated inner awkwardness.

[Kes Akiena]

Busying himself with another look over the flimsi, Kes paid partial attention to the schedule that Taassaurra rattled off. Only when a silence filled the air did he look up, first to Joey, then to the Preita'rrou. He blinked, his mind racing to play catchup. Less than a moment later he spoke up.

"Well, Preita'rrou, I'm sure Mr. Rabeak wouldn't mind a guide to help him about until the Titans return."

A disarming smile as he half-stepped back.

"I'll have Ms. Sokano take over for you."

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

Kiimi's blue eyes widened in surprise as Kes pushed her under the proverbial freighter. Goddess, I just knew he was going to say that! She pivoted to assuage Pilot Joey with a smile that intended to say no problem, but probably looked like a cry for help.

"Of c-c-courrsse, Com-m-manderr, jI'd be g-g-g-g..."

With her hands clasped unseen behind her back, Kiimi pinched one with the other.

"...jI'd be happjy t-to help."

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey's pink eyes looked from officer to officer, sensing the tension in Kiimiti's voice. In all honesty, he didn't need a guide, as a map and simple instructions would suffice, and he briefly considered bringing that up so that no one would be pulled away from their duties. But a rookie pilot should not question his commanding officer - at least not on his first day - so Joey smiled and nodded, not wishing to make waves.

"Thank you very much, Preita'rrou," the Nehantite said, the Cizerack word causing mild difficulty for him. "With luck I shouldn't keep you long. And thank you again, Commander."

It was only in his farewell salute that Joey noticed he hadn't seen anyone else on the station saluting anyone at all. Garfife, he was going to wind up with the nickname of "Captain Protocol," he just knew it.

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

Oh, he was a shiny. Kiimi's ears pitched at odd angles as she watched the Nehantite's textbook salute go up and down. Of course, who could blame him? First impressions and all. And everybody started off as a shiny, so there wasn't any harm in it. Of course, the Pilot Rabeak part should have been enough indication. Not enough flight hours for a commission yet.

"Okajy, P-pjilot, let'ss get jyou ss-ss-ssjituated. How long w-wass jyourr fljight?"

[Joey Rabeak]

"About seven hours, ma'am," Joey replied. "Would have been eight or so, but my fighter's got the improved new hyperdrive."

Immediately Joey kicked himself for talking about his X-Wing right off the bat. Bragging about your ship is only what rookie noobs with no experience do. Of course, that fit his description, but it still didn't excuse the giant red flags going up which shouted "Rookie! Rookie!"

He followed as he found himself led away from the Commander's office, and attempted to salvage such a poor opening line. "I've got an astromech, too. He's almost brand new, do I need to register him, or will he have been checked in with the ship's ID when I docked?"

[Kes Akiena]

Taking up the rest of the doorway as Joey vacated, Kes offered a smile.

"Normally we make sure droids are registered, but for now I'd not worry too much about that. He's linked to your ship, and your ship is linked to you. It's as formal as anything around here needs to be in the immediate. So long as you eventually are able to get the paperwork turned in, I'd not sweat it."

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

Honestly, Joey could have completely made up half the chest-thumping nonsense about his ship and it's hyperdrive rating. The only thing Kiimi cared about in a fighter was how much spectrum it could sling.

"Prrob-b-babljy a good jidea to g-g-g-g-grrab some chow." Kiimi offered, remembering the universal Alliance colloquialism for food. "Therre'ss a sst-t-tatjion mess down thrree levelss at the j-junctjion, orr jyou can eat on the conc-c-c-ourrsse jif jyou d-don't mjind sspendjing jyourr own m-monejy forr ss-ssomethjing betterr."

[Joey Rabeak]

"Thank you, Commander," Joey gave a final nod to Kes before he had to go catch up with the still-moving Kiimiti.

For far too much of the last four years, Joey had eaten more meal cubes than anything else, and even though he'd grown accustomed to their synthetic flavor and strange texture, the thought of real food after going over eight hours since his last meal was one too good to pass up. "I don't mind spending a few credits, ma'am, if you can recommend anything that's pretty good, here. Well, anything that's not meal cubes, really," he chuckled to his reluctant guide.

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

It occurred to Kiimi that she'd never actually seen Chief Rabeak eat before. Being without a reference level must just be part and parcel of a deep space posting. Come to think of it, Pilot Rabeak. Chief Rabeak. Kiimi's ears twitched with a thought that she managed to wrangle well inside of her lips. Don't even ask that. What kind of provincial rube asks if everyone is related just because they hear the same last name? It's not like he's a Skywalker or a Meorrrei or something.

So what do Nehantites actually eat? Um...

Okay, xenobiology. Let's see. Fur. Sharp teeth. Don't stare at his teeth! Kiimi's eyes pointedly fixed on a spot of bulkhead just away from Joey's head.

"B-b-bothanss!"

She winced.

"Food. Bothan f-f-f-food. Therre's a rresstaurrant at G-f-f-forrtjy one. jIf jyou ljike Bothan food, jI m-mean."

She wanted to die. Sometimes face-to-face social interaction was the worst.

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey's boots fell in measured step as he walked alongside Kiimi until they reached the lift. The sudden exclamation of "Bothans!" brought a bit of shock to his face as it sounded as if she were suggest actually eating them! Confusion quickly alleviated by elaboration, his smile returned, and the flyboy shrugged. "Sure, sounds good," he replied as the lift arrived. "Never had Bothan food before; always nice to try something new."

Well, that wasn't exactly true. An adventure into Rodian food had left scars upon his tastebuds that no amount of brushing and gargling could ever heal. With luck, Bothan food would prove more pleasant.

Boarding the lift, he found it empty other than Kiimi and himself, and as there was no relaxing smooth jazz to pass the time, Joey's mouth opened for more small talk. "So, I've read a bit about this station, at the Academy. It used to be an Imperial station, right? Have they ever made any moves to try and reclaim it?"

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

It just now occurred to Kiimi that her helpful suggestion had roped her into eating at a Bothan restaurant. Not exactly what she'd planned to do with her day. Of course she had no idea what Bothan food was, other than her hurried window-shopping in between postings. Something with meat in it, but grilled - that was the term for it.

She was distracting herself, but now that she realized it, the spell was broken. Now she was standing in a lift with an alien she didn't know, listening to bad muzak and trying to not make the situation more awkward - Oh Goddess he's talking again. Oh good! It's work-related sort-of.

"Oh! Well, n-n-n-not rrealljy. Th-th-therre wass an jin-jincjident wjithjin the f-f-fjirrsst week wherre a grroup of sst-sst-sst-sstarr desstrrojyerrss tessted ourr rr-rressponsse at the b-b-borrderr, but w-w-we kept jit to ss-ss-ssaberr rrattljing m-mosstljy."

[Joey Rabeak]

"Mostly?" Joey's left eyebrow went up in precisely the way Anauri's did when he knew he wasn't being told the whole story - though Joey's eyebrow was neatly groomed and not wild and bushy like his father's. "And they haven't been back again, since? Did the Cizerack Navy get involved as well?"

That brought up another question, one he was hoping to ask is squadron commander, but as he had a high-ranking Cizerack officer trapped on a lift with him, now seemed as good a time as any. "Speaking of the Cizerack Navy, I know they have a large presence on this station. Are they integrated with Alliance forces here, or do our two navies remain separate, yet work alongside each other under a coalition leadership?"

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

"Well..."

Kiimi tried to mentally stack the queue of questions, and began to wonder with some small annoyance if the Nehantite ever bothered to read the news. Then again, maybe the happenings of the Raashaalla sector didn't rate as galactic news on Nehantish?

"jIt w-w-wassn't sshotss fjirred, jif th-th-thatss what jyou m-mean. The T-Trrade Navjy rrejinforrced f-fleet d-d-defensse, but everrjythjing came to a p-p-p-p-peaceful ssolutjion. The Empjirre even sset up a d-d-djiplomattjic mjisssjion on th-the sstatjion."

Kiimi could feel the inertia shift in her belly as the downward trajectory of the lift began to decelerate. She didn't have time to come up for air, however. Her tagalong had another volley of questions.

"Oh, well. The C-C-Cizerack Trrade Navjy operratess jin the Jovan p-p-prrefecturre underr a jojint command w-w-wjith the Alljiance. That'ss ssjimjilarr to how we f-f-f-functjioned jin the Confederracjy durrjing the W-Warr of Rrepubljic Ag-g-ggressjion. The Expedjitjionarrjy fleet jiss phassjing jin ss-ss-ssomethjing ssjimjilarr, but not asss qujickljy. The Home Clussterr fleet sstjill op-p-perratess wjith full autonom-mjy though."

The lift finally halted, and Kiimi squared her shoulders to the door in time for them to slide open with a soft release. Beyond lay the concourse, a massive open area that circled the main habitation areas of the station. Even though it was morning Galactic Standard, Jovan was like many lively space-faring communities. The hours had little meaning, and the concourse was never really asleep. Thousands of beings of hundreds of races pushed left and right in a vibrant parade of community.

"W-welcome to the Concourrsse." Kiimi attempted to act genial, but social anxiety threw a wet blanket over that. Instead, she shimmied out of the door, twisting and bending through her advance to get out of the way of people that honestly should watch where they were going anyway. Somewhere overhead, a bird zipped from pylon to pylon, beating tiny wings as it warbled a passing peep peep peep.

No one batted an eye.

[Joey Rabeak]

No one but Joey, at least. His gaze followed the bird immediatley, head on a swivel to track it until it flitted out of sight. "That was a bird," he cheerfully stated the obvious. After so long on stations and military installations, he'd almost forgotten what they looked like, and hadn't expected to see one flying around wild on Jovan. Once his orinthian distraction was gone, he settled back into reality and wove through the morning crowd to catch up with his tour guide.

Nehantish itself, while technically part of the Alliance, often kept to itself when it came to matters of actual war with the Empire after it had managed to extricate the last vestiges of Imperial influence upon its national soil, so barring major events news was quiet about such things. Even at the Alliance Academy, Jovan Station was little more than a footnote in the texts and training Joey had been subject to for four years, so the intricacies known to Jovan's staff of its history were mostly unknown to the new pilot. Had the Alliance recognized his degree from the college he'd attended on Nehantish, surely he would have entered into active service as an officer and been more privy to such details, but Joey simply accepted he'd have to work his way up from the bottom all over again.

"I guess that's kind of like how Alliance naval fleets and units interact in Nehantite space," Joey nodded as he drank in the sights, sounds and smells of the concourse. "Not that I'll ever get posted to my home sector, that is," he couldn't help chuckling.

[Kiimiti Taassaurra]

"jYou'd rr-rratherr be home?"

Kiimi fixated on that little breadcrumb, her ears pivoting askew as she asked.

"jI mean...d-don't mjind me asskjing, but w-wouldn't deep sspace be the morre p-p-prresstjigjiouss posstjing? jI worrked harrd to g-get asssjigned outssjide of the home fleet."

[Joey Rabeak]

Joey shook his head, chuckling. "No, no, that's not what I meant," he replied. "I'm happy to be out here. I'm happy to have a proper assignment at all, to be honest. They kept trying to wind me into Engineering because I was good at it, but, that's what every Nehantite does. I wanted something different. Something more."

His tail swept back and forth with visible joy as his smile graduated to a proper grin. "And once I got behind the yoke of an X-wing, well, that was it, I knew where I belonged. Doesn't matter what sector I get sent to, as long as I can be useful as a fighter pilot, I'm good. Besides, away from home there's less... distractions, if you know what I mean."

As he finished, his words began to trail off as he let his eyes follow a very attractive couple walking through the concourse, holding hands. The moment he caught himself stating, however, Joey snapped back to attention on the conversation he was engaged in.