trans_9 | What the hell is an aluminium falcon?

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What the hell is an aluminium falcon?

She'd done it again. She'd promised that she wouldn't but she'd done it all the same. She'd lost her cool and let her emotions govern her again. She feels the vestiges of what she felt at Mykr; rotten, brittle kindling in her gut. All it takes is a single match...

It won't happen again. She's stronger than that. Bee-lining through the ship and chastising herself under her breath, she goes in search of the only thing she had ever needed. Family. They're here somewhere, but between Stacy's awesome presence in the Force and the thrum of life vibrating from the pod caverns she has difficulty centering herself. Not keen on the idea of trawling the entire ship (that's no moon... but it's not far of) she decides to wait for them in the one place they would know to look for her.

Here in the hangar she could be at peace. When people confound her, she knows she can always turn to her beloved machines for solace. Machines speak plainly, machines she understands. When she asks a machine what is wrong, it tells her so that she might fix it.

And that is precisely what she does. She picks a ship, and boy, is it a doozy. Yes, she thinks her family will find her here.

Leaping with the Force onto the battered hood of the craft, she surveys its condition and tuts, "What has he been doing to you, poor baby?"

Minutes later she's an ocean in the stillness of night, absolutely dead to the world. A pair of oversized blast goggles slung over her eyes, she sets about blasting debris from one of the forward vents with a vibrotorch. Occasionally and without realizing, she slips into tunelessly whistling a popular ditty from home.

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Lafiel was on her way to ~~go take a nap in the cockpit because that's where she felt safest~~ take some technical notes of her Segno Type 947 for future modifications, when the bulk of a larger craft caught her eye through one of the doorways.

She paused in a drift and stared. There were safety violations all over this craft! It would be a miracle if it didn't let in hard vacuum the moment it was launched!

It would indeed be a miracle if it didn't let in hard vacuum the moment it was launched. Every flight it made was a kriffing miracle, though that didn't stop it from being both Jaina and her father's pride and joy. It was like a teddy bear- tattered, frayed and missing a buttoned eye, but it had been with her her whole life. There wasn't a ship she knew of that she trusted her journey and her safety with anymore than this one.

But that didn't mean it wouldn't benefit from a pretty zealous patch-up job, which she had begun in earnest.

At least, until she attempted to test the newly decluttered vent, remotely firing the ship's warm up procedures with the Force. Something in the vent ruptured with a smart popping noise, puffing sparks and plumes of smoke into the face of the young mechanic.

She squeaked and dived backwards, "Once a pirate, always a pirate! Anyone'd think he's actually trying to get himself killed!"

Edited 2010-02-07 00:13 (UTC)

Lafiel pushed off and dived, trying to get herself to Jaina before the explosion did. Fortunately the other pilot was out of the way before the flames could do more than lick at her jumpsuit.

Lafiel caught herself on a protrusion and hung there, unsure of how to proceed. "Are you alright? Gaftonesh, it's lucky that freighter isn't leaking fuel or something equally dangerous..."

"I'm fine," she insisted, picking herself back up and pushing the goggles back so she could survey the new damage. Always seemed the way with this ship- to fix one thing you had to break something else, "She's never as bad as she looks. Though, I don't remember her ever looking this bad before..."

"Well, I could help you with repairs if you want. I wasn't an engineer in the Star Forces but i've watched them at their work. You know this vessel then?" Lafiel looked dubiously at the Millenium Falcon as if she expected it to explode at any minute. This was the kindof task that required the buddy system, it seemed.

"She belongs to my father. Gotten me out of a few scrapes too," as things stood, the Falcon was now the closest thing she had to calling a home, "If you're not an engineer, does that make you a pilot?"

Lafiel floated in the zero-g, perfectly at home. "Yes, I was a pilot-trainee aboard Gosroth before I was given the command of Basroil." And suddenly she remembered those clumsy manual controls on the x-wings. What a poor way to fly, to not be able to connect with your machine, to see what it sees, feel oneself in its place. "...Ah, on an Abh ship below cruiser size, the captain is also the pilot."

"That's not uncommon with ships outside the military in my universe. You spend so long in the pilot's chair, you get comfortable," but then, Jaina would say that. She'd been tinkering with machines her whole life. They had character, personality. Getting her hands on the controls, interfacing directly-- it was a bond that she rarely shared with other people.

"I see...If you like, I am uniquely equipped to run a diagnostic. If you'll allow me access to the ship's systems, I can tell you if there's anything wrong...Although I certainly understand if you wouldn't want me to do that." She understood the personal nature of the request. It was something like asking to go into someone's room. After all, in the early days before the empire, the Abh had lived only in their ships, as some still did.

Wedge had been checking up on the x-wings. He checked at least once a day (sometimes more) just to make sure no one was tampering with them. As he was passing by the 'fastest hunk of junk in the galaxy' he grinned as he noticed the young woman perched on the top of it and waved up at her.

"I see you found the Falcon, Jaina. Is it in a flyable condition? Honestly I'm surprised Han hasn't been down here yet..."

"'Course she's flyable," Jaina replied, the goggles giving the grin she shot back at him a thoroughly gormless quality, "This old girl could be held together with string and she'd still fly. Whether she could do faster than a one-legged rancor, however..."

The tone of her voice was a mixture of anticipation and trepidation as she continued, "So he is here..."

Her father was here. He was safe. Was he going to be different, like Mara?

"He's...yeah, he's here. I saw him up at the podpop the other day. I'm surprised you didn't run into him. He had Chewie with him." Wedge rolled one shoulder, still looking up at the young Jedi woman.

"Kind of hard to miss that big wookie."

"He had... Chewie?" But Chewie was... no. If Wedge and Mara could be the people she'd known as a child, then so could Chewie. For everything its crew had lost, Stacy still managed to come bearing small blessings.

Mixed blessings. If Chewie was here then there was a chance that her father wouldn't recognise her. Not as the woman she had grown into. Not as the woman war had turned her into.

She went back to her work. Nothing's happened yet, girl. You're fine.

"It was crowded," was her lame excuse, "I knew if he was going to find me anywhere, it would be here."

"I hope he does find you...though I don't know exactly what time he's from. He looked younger than the last time I saw him though, just a warning..." He sighed and patted the Falcon.

"Yeah, I figured that it was a possibility," she replied with resignation. How could she be dreading the sight of her own father?

Finding difficulty concentrating, she finished the work she was doing on the vent and came to perch over the side, goggles slung around her neck, "Even the Falcon is different. It's like she's older and younger at the same time. Most of the modification that's been done to her over the years is gone or there's older mod work in its place."

Legs dangling absently, she asked, "How was he? Did he seem okay? And Chewie?"

Edited 2010-02-08 03:40 (UTC)

He had walked into the hangar, for the first time since finding Superbike, who trailed behind him happily, having boom-tubed to follow. That bike just seemed to know where he was, and they hadn't spent enough time together, in its mind.

After his chat with Asuka, he had been looking for one thing: X-wings. But still, he couldn't help but stop and stare at the Millenium Falcon as he passed. He hadn't recalled seeing it last time he was here. Superbike honked, and he looked upwards to the familiar sight and smell of repairs being done.

"Hey, you!" He yelled. "If ya ain't Han Solo, ya shouldn't be messin' with his rig! He might get pissy! And do ya know where the X-wings are here?!"

Jaina looked down in the direction of the voice. Was this... was this a Nagai? She shouldn't be surprised that one of their number would be so quick to jump to her father's aid.

"Oh, yeah? You're a friend of his, then?" She smirked, speaking up so that she could be heard over the hiss of the vibrotorch.

"X-wings? You're a Rogue?"

"Uh... Not a friend, jus' a fan, really." Slobo said loudly, making sure she could hear him. "It's jus'... yanno, the fraggin' Millenium Falcon. Things like a holy icon or some sprock." The second question caught him even more off guard.

"Nah, I jus' wanna take a look at 'em. I'm a mechanic, I was thinkin' about talkin' ta that Antilles guy about helpin' out with repairs and maintenance." He smiled a little bit. "I mean, a chance ta work on x-wings? Ya'd have ta be a complete kang not ta want it."

It was only a matter of time, really. Even without being told he had children, they would have meet sooner or later. What better ~~mind raping~~ way than this? Fate was cruel, at times. The minute he had been informed about a place on Stacy that might hold his pride and joy, he had tried to find the place as fast as possible.

Finally, the hanger. Even Han had to let out a small whistle and he looked at everything in there. The different vehicles around him made the man feel like a kid in a candy store. Of course nothing would ever equal to the Falcon. Nothing.

He couldn't help but grin with the all-too familiar sight greeted him. He hadn't had a chance to see the ship during the celebration. Lando better have held up to his promise...

"There she i-" He stopped mid step talking with Chewie when he heard an all-too familiar tune. One that didn't always bring up fond memories. Someone was tampering with his beloved ~~flying hunk of junk~~ Falcon and their names were not Han or Chewbacca. If Leia wasn't here, Han considered the ship and Chewie his only real connection with the world he had known. No one else was allowed to touch it.

"Hey!" He hadn't even bothered coming that close yet, yelling as he was walking closer. "Whoever you are, you've got a lot of guts tampering with another man's ship."

Even though she had felt him coming, the chagrin of his voice still caught her off guard. A muted gasp escapes her mouth and she all but dropped the vibrotorch. It was like she was a child again, five or six, caught trying to take her for a spin.

She powered it down and lowered her head, "I'm not tampering."

"Not tampering?" Of all the nerve! "What were you doing with that vibrotorch?" He looked up at where she was, visibly angry. "That ship is...my...property..which...I..." The speed of his words got slower and slower until he all but stopped himself from talking. Just staring.

The facial features. The hair. Even her voice seemed to be oddly familiar and yet he didn't understand why. If only he could look into her eyes, but the goggles block the way. Still...

Why did this person suddenly remind her of Leia?

"Do I...know you?"

"Apparently not. I'm Jaina," say, didn't Han have a mother by that name?

The hissing of the vibrotorch died and she got to her feet, shrugging off the goggles and folding her arms stubbornly. Stiff upper lip in full effect, because annoyance was so much easier for her pride to cope with than the sadness she truly felt. Uncle Luke, Aunt Mara, Wedge; of all of them, it had to be her father that didn't know her.

And it was true -- it wasn't just her appearance that was familiar. Though the attitude she carried was all his, he would have no doubt seen her mother wear the very same expression of jaded but loving patience many times before.

"Tampering implies that I'm making things worse. I'm not. I'm making it so she doesn't kill you the next time you try to fly her."

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What the hell is an aluminium falcon?

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