trans_9 | just a couple of fighter jocks

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just a couple of fighter jocks | location: hangar [OPEN]

It's been an intense half a day for Tycho, what with arriving here, learning about the destruction of his universe, learning about the existence of other universes, and the fact that he's been dumped in the middle of a whole new war to fight. After talking to Captain Kirk, he'd spent a while reading as much as he could find on the omnicoms about the Ohm and the ship and the entire situation. He'd also messaged his new squadron, the thing he suspects will take up most of his time on this ship. What he's learned so far tells him ... it's going to be a challenge.

Now though... he could really use something familiar, something from home before his head starts to spin like an x-wing with the stabilizers blown. Stacy's hanger is certainly like no hangar he's ever been in before. The air is humid, and his boots echo strangely on the organic floor. It's also large, maybe almost as large as the main hanger on the Lusankya, filled with all kinds of craft he's never seen before, which compounds the feeling of strangeness. Tycho isn't some outer rim dweller- he's been around the galaxy a few times, seen plenty of things, and the unfamiliarity of almost everything here compounds the feeling of how far he is from home. Still though, his heart can't help but begin to soar as he takes in the sight of near two dozen x-wings parked together near one of the edges.

Tycho strides quickly up to them, noting the familiar shape of Wedge's X-Wing, kill decals bracketed by the two Death Stars, before his eyes alight on his own. He traces his fingers up the side, instantly feeling more centered, more at peace for the feel of the durasteel under his fingertips. He's going to be okay. As long as he has his X-wing and his squadron, everything will be fine.

His R5 chirps in greeting, and Tycho pulls a datapad out of one of his flightsuit's pockets. He might as well use his time well and start running some preliminary diagnostics while he waits for Wedge to arrive.

"Yep," he responds in answer to the astromech's query as the translation scrolls across the screen. "We're far from home buddy." He comfortingly pats the X-Wings side. "We still got our jobs to do though, so let's get started."

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"I see you found your way alright." Wedge's voice comes from behind Tycho as the other pilot wriggles out of the engine compartment of his snubfighter. He's been taking a break from cleaning up the city, so how better to spend it then tinkering with his x-wing? He dropped to the neck and wiped his greasy hands on a rag before grinning at Tycho.

"Good to see you. Sorry I was so out of it before. I hadn't slept in a while."

"I've been studying the maps of the ship that are available." Tycho holds up an omnicom. "Here, Captain Kirk gave me one of my own, so you can have yours back." He passes the borrowed device back to Wedge.

"It's good to be as prepared as possible," he says as his eyes roam over the enormous hangar, "but still I get the feeling that there's a lot we don't know. Having to fly in against an enemy half blind, nothing we haven't done before, right? Still thought-" Tycho rubs a hand over his eyes, "I don't like it."

"Don't worry about it," he says in response to Wedge's apology, clapping his friend on the shoulder. "From what I've been able to gather, you had a hell of a fight against this 'Nightmare King' character. That certainly doesn't make things any easier though, having to face internal threats as well as external ones ..."

"It doesn't help that half the crew is complaining about the way the ship is run at any given time. I mean, most of them are civilians. They're not used to things being run in a military manner. I can see why they'd be reluctant to let the captain run things his way. But at the same time, part of me can't help but wonder how long they'll last like this." Wedge sighs and runs his fingers through his hair before accepting the omnicomm back.

"Thanks." The general was looking much better after twelve hours of sleep, a shower, shave and some caf. "It was a hell of a fight, yeah. But we came through alright. Now we just have to get things running smoothly again."

He slips his omnicomm back into one of hsi flight suits many pockets.

"Your fighter alright? I haven't assigned ships yet, since we've been sticking mostly to the sims..."

Tycho looks at Wedge blankly. "But we're fighting a war," he points out. "A war, if I understand right, for the very survival of our species, and all other species besides. I can understand that they weren't trained in a military setting, but," Tycho shrugs. "Conflict is training. You learn, or you die." Harsh, but in Tycho's experience, true.

Tycho checks his datapad. "R5 says the initial scans have come out fine, but I'd want to do complete nose to tail sweep before I'd be willing to certify her fit to fly. Who knows what might have happened to them when they were brought on board here." He sighs and runs a fond hand over his craft.

"Did I understand you correctly that some of the new squadron members have never flown before? Is there something easier we can start them out on for their initial flights than X-Wings? Seems like putting novice pilots, even ones who have logged sim hours, out in Incom's finest is like giving nerflings to a kryat dragon ..."

"I know we are. But we're also refugees. And some of these people don't even want to fight, I think. They're not really cut out for it, which is fine. Not everybody spends their entire adult life getting very, very good at vaping people like we have, Tycho." He begins walking around to the back of Tycho's x-wing to open the engine compartment, speaking as he goes.

"And there was nothing wrong with mine when I opened her up. Still. Best to check." He flipped it open and ducked inside, retrieving a flashlight from a pocket and looking around the interior of the compartment. "And we don't really have the luxury of giving them baby steps. Besides, I haven't found anything like a T-16 or a Z-95 here. Give me a boost up?"

"And keep those hands where he can see them, mister," Jaina interjects as she crosses the hangar deck to meet them. Though she sports her fair share of cuts and grazes, she doesn't look half as bad as some of the crew, "General, Colonel. What's the rumpus?"

"I suppose that's true," Tycho sighs. "I guess I'm used to necessity forcing people to do things they wouldn't necessarily want to, or isn't even in their nature." He's silent for a moment, reflecting on the fact that despite his training, he had never intended to actually be a fighter pilot, but had planed to move to a desk job after he got his minimum service out of the way. Still, it might have been against his pacifist upbringing, but Tycho can't regret the choices that have lead him to be where he is now- and they are choices, he recognizes that. "Not everyone feels like they have to save everyone," he muses. The idea is a foreign one, both to him and to almost everyone he associates with. Trying to save the galaxy is what they do, it's who they are.

"We lose enough people to enemy fire," Tycho notes, "Losing one to a small but overlooked mechanical problem just isn't necessary. But I know, I know," he holds his hands up, "teaching greed to huttlings."

"Not having the luxury ..." Tycho sighs, rubbing a hand over his face. "It's been so long since we were scraping by for our very survival, instead of on the offensive, I think I've begun to forget what it's like." His mouth is in a thin determined line. "Got to recalibrate, make sure I'm firing on all four thrusters so I can help the squadron be the best pilots they can be, so we don't lose anyone despite shaving it closer than we would like."

Tycho nods at Wedge's request. "Of course." He's about to give Wedge the boost he's asked for, when Jaina appears. It's lucky Tycho didn't already have Wedge up in the air, or he might have dropped his friend. "Jaina," he says, turning to face her. He stares, surprised. "... You look ... like your mother when she was young," he can't help but noting, "but ... like your father when he was young as well. It's quite ... it's quite something. Ah, sorry." Tycho smiles, making a face at himself. "Didn't mean to ramble at you like that. Jaina." He holds out his hand for her to shake. "Is there a rank to go along with that, I assume?"

Wedge abandons his efforts to look into the engines and instead turns to greet Jaina, giving her a nod. It's still strange to talk to a young woman who (to him) is supposed to be seven years old. He leans against the x-wing, smiling.

"Hello, Jaina. Good to see you're none the worse for wear." He chuckles quietly, listening to Tycho ramble.

"You're looking good for your age too," Jaina takes Tycho's hand, smirking as she remembers the time when Janson had inadvertently tried to hit on her. Thank the Force her father wasn't there to see it, "And it's Lieutenant Colonel, sir."

She nods to Wedge, "Had a few dicey moments back there, but it could've been a lot worse. How're our girls looking?"

By which, of course, she is referring to the x-wings.

Tycho raises an eyebrow at Wedge. "Did she just call me young, or old?" he asks with a grin.

"You don't have to call me sir," he says, turning back to Jaina, "please, just Tycho is fine.

"Lieutenant Colonel? Already?" Tycho's eyebrows go up this time in surprise. "Impressive. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised though- your uncle had made General by the time he wasn't much older than you."

Tycho pats his X-Wing in a proprietary way. "You'll have to ask Wedge on the others, I've only been looking at mine, but so far everything seems to be in order." From on top of the x-wing R5 adds a whistle-chirp of agreement.

"I think she called us both old." Wedge grins in return, leaning against the x-wing.

"As far as I can tell, they're all in good shape. Still, I want to crack them all open eventually. Show the pilots how to take care of their own craft if they need to."

"With the utmost respect, boys." she shoots back with amusement, "Would I dare insult the men who taught me how to fly ships that aren't made out of the burnt-out scraps from other ships?"

She nods, "Considering we currently have a deck staff of one, I'd say that's an excellent idea."

Tycho raises an eyebrow. "The Falcon you mean?" he asks. "Don't let your dad catch you talking that way about his baby ... but then I'm sure you already knew that. ... or is Anakin going to go on adventures in ship making when he gets older than, what is he now, two and a half, three?"

Tycho looks back over at wedge. "You mean our chief mechanic is our only mechanic? Yes, I would certainly say lessons in fighter maintenance should be a high priority."

"Until I can find more volunteers, yes." Wedge admitted sheepishly. "I'll be laying out a new schedule at the squadron meeting. I want Rogue Squadron to work on becoming a commando strike force similar to Wraith Squadron as well. Though, I do believe more of our pilots have experience with that kind of thing than flying, come to think of it." Wedge smiled.

"What kind of daughter would I be if I didn't know exactly how wind up my parents?" she practically beams back at Tycho, "Besides, I love the Falcon. I've been patching her up since I could lift a hydrospanner. I'm just not going to pretend there aren't bits falling off her."

She shrugs, "I can take up some of the weight on the maintenance front, Wedge. At least until we can free up some extra staff."

"A commando squadron, hmm?" Tycho looks thoughtful. "Do we have any idea of the missions we'll be asked to complete, or are we just preparing for anything?"

Tycho grins at Jaina. "I would be worried if there weren't bits falling off of her," he agrees, "because that would mean she's run out of bits."

"I'll certainly be up for helping with the maintenance as well," he continues to Wedge. "Really, what else am I going to be doing, besides working for this squadron of yours?"

"I just want us to be prepared for anything. Right now, we're really the only organized force for projecting power off the ship. Everyone else is...well, you saw all the comm posts, I assume?" He shakes his head ruefully.

"What I wouldn't give to have Wes and Hobbie here. And the Wraiths. What I couldn't do with the Wraiths." He sighs again. "But if wishes were starships beggars would fly, right?" He gives Tycho a shrug.

"Whatever you see fit to involve yourself in. And that would be great, Jaina." He smiles at the Solo girl. "Talk to Wyn. She doesn't have too much hands on experience with x-wings, so if you could show her a few things, that'd be astral."

"Wedge, give it time and they might as well be the Wraiths," Jaina assures, "Some of these people hadn't even seen a starfighter before and now you've got them flying in them. I'm sure we've got people on board who can instruct them just as well for ground ops."

Edited 2010-03-17 01:31 (UTC)

Tycho gives Wedge and exasperated but fond look. "Fighting this Ohm menace is the only thing I'm interested in, and the best way to do that will be through Rogue Squadron, I know. No worries about me wanting to do anything else- all my time and talents are at your disposal."

"Do you have anyone in mind for the combat training yet?" he continues. "I'm fine with the basics, but I'm afraid training in the cockpit is what I'd be most useful for."

"You're probably right Jaina..." He shakes his head, giving a wry smile.

"Just a lot on my mind, you know? And I figured we'd start with the absics. Marksmanship. Hand to hand training, stealth, explosives. That kind of thing."

"Uncle Luke's been here a lot longer than any of us. He might have a recommendation," she suggests, "I already looked up the command rosters and they have someone called Master Chief pipped as head of the training staff. Might be worth tracking him down, too."

"I know," Tycho agrees quietly. "I know." Tycho was deeply familiar with missing people who were missing, gone and presumed dead. It wasn't any easier the second time around, but at least he had an already tested and ready strategy for dealing with it- burying himself in work.

"Marksmanship. Hand to hand. Stealth. Explosives." He was noting all these things down on the data pad he had pulled out again. "Ask Luke for names, look up Master Chief ..."

What? You could take the man out of the XO position, but you couldn't take the XO out of the man.

"And scramble drills. We'll need to do those." Wedge grins at Tycho. It was another small bit of weight off his shoulders knowing that his friend was here.

"I think we can make a real squadron out of these young men and women."

"A squadron or an explosion." Jaina quips, "Either way, it's going to be interesting."

Tycho shakes his head as he smiles. "You really are a Solo, aren't you," he notes. "If Wes was here, we would be having an out of control snark-fest, wouldn't we?"

"Scramble drills." Tycho adds to his list. He looks up at Wedge. "Hey, I've been wondering- Leia and Jaina are both 20, you and I are both 34 ... when are Luke and Mara and the others from? Past, future, or present?"

just a couple of fighter jocks | location: hangar [OPEN]

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