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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It was a low whistle the woman gave through her front teeth as she listened to Tycho explain about the ship. She only gave pause to glance back at the older man never once having that smile seem to fade away. This was her element or so it would seem. "No. The Anglo-Sino Alliance is what I'm talkin' 'bout. Main form of dictatorship, I mean, government, in my 'verse. What I spent th' last five years of my life fightin' against." It felt odd to say it now since there was no more Alliance. No more war with one enemy only to have them replaced with another. Green eyes again sought out the craft taking in every detail. "Ain't no such thing as a republic. Only trade one corrupted leader for another with each gettin' worse. And each of them afraid of havin' a world of free thinkers."

"She able to fly in atmo or just the Black?" Where the Independents had their fighter craft, it seemed the majority of their troops were ground based. What birds she had seen at Serenity were there for the pure purpose of blowing the crap out of those in the Valley. Maybe it was why she seemed to tense a little at the mention of the torpedoes and, thankfully, with a bum knee, she couldn't get down to their level to see. "What about nukes? And please.. call me Gwen. Reckon my run with the Browncoats are done and gone with seein' as there ain't no more 'verse I call home."

Tycho smiled lopsidedly. "It seems they had something in common then," he said. "My Alliance was a rebellion against the dictatorship of the Galactic Empire. We were successful in re-establishing a Republic but the fight, the fight was long from over." He sighed and shook his head. "13 years I've been fighting the Empire, almost all my adult life, and now, poof, it's all gone." He rubbed his hands over his eyes tiredly, and then gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry," he said, "didn't mean to be a downer."

Gwen's next question gave him a chance to steer the conversation back to less fraught topics. "Ah, yes, she's atmosphere capable," Tycho answered, correctly deducing the meaning of her question. "Really, there isn't a studier or better made fighter in the galaxy, in my opinion ..." He smiled fondly as he ran his hand down the X-wings side, fingers tracing over the impressive number of kill decals on the fuselage. "Nuke?" Tycho raised his eyebrows. "You can't mean ... a nuclear reaction can you?" His brows knitted together in confusion. "That's rather primitive and highly dangerous technology," he said. "I don't think I've heard of it actually in use in millennia. Proton torpedoes are much more compact, much safer, and don't leave any radioactive fall-out."

Tycho's smile was much warmer and more open this time. "Then Gwen it is," he said, extending his hand for a second shake. "It really is a pleasure to meet you, Gwen."

"Out of the pot and in to th' fryin' pan as my Grandma would have said." Which in truth was how their situation was in that odd, old world sense of the saying. Lightly the red head clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, sparing Tycho another look before turning her full attention back to him. "Thirteen years is along war t' be a'fightin. Glad t' see at least someone made out better in the end." Or at least as better as it could be hung at the end that didn't need to be spoken. Some day the officer was going to go and see the end of the War that she had missed. Apparently not by much from what she had been told as well. "Trust me," Gwen replied waving her self wrapped and splinted wrist around, "don't think you can do much damage. Them nightmares runnin' folk ragged was enough to do the majority of that."

"Yeah. Nuclear weapons. Bombs." The fact that it took the older man a second to compute the information made Gwen sign. Five hundred years off of Earth and they were still using as he called it 'primitive' technology. Her people could turn dead planets in to living worlds, travel without lightspeed amongst the stars, but still used nukes as their dirty work. "Well.. it's 2511 where I come from and they still do. Rightly took out one of the major worlds supporting Independence with it. Hera ain't ever gonna be able to be repopulated again the way they took her out. Civilians were considered a causality to the war. Reckon they thought it would make us give up.. just made us fight harder."

When Tycho stuck his hand out again that slender red brow quirked upward once more, her good hand accepting his once more. "Pleasure is all mine, Sprocket." Again she winked as well adding on to the playful teasing of her words. Most people she knew had nicknames. Until she came up with a better one.. Sprocket would work nicely.

"It's been a long enough fight," Tycho agreed, "but it looks like there's even more fighting to be done now. I suppose those of us who are soldiers will keep doing our jobs." He shared slightly sad smile with Gwen.

He listened to her story with a serious, sympathetic expression. "Well, we may have more advanced weapons in my galaxy, but that isn't necessarily a good thing, especially not when the government considers killing off a couple billion civilians to be just collateral damage." His expression had become grim, with distant pain in his eyes. "The Empire, they built a weapon that could completely destroy an entire planet with a single shot. They gave a 'demonstration' of this weapon by firing it on a peaceful innocent world. Really, it was to send the rebels a message, and you're right, it only made us fight harder."

Tycho gave a startled huff of laughter at her words. "You can call me Tycho," he said, "but I suppose Sprocket works as well ..." He shook his head as he smiled. This woman was interesting, but he was certainly enjoying her company. It occurred to him though that if they were going to be talking more, she probably shouldn't be standing on her injuries. "Care to pull up a crate?" he asked, dragging over a pair of the scuffed duraplast boxes that seemed ubiquitous to hangers everywhere. "It looks like you were in a bit of a fight ..." he noted with a touch of understatement.

Gwen's smile only seemed to take a wry twist as she hobbled a bit more to take a look at the fighter some more. "Ours mighta been the losing side.. still ain't convinced it was the wrong one neither." Things she had seen done, experienced herself in the prison camp, then the Valley. No one was ever going to be able to convince her that going against the Alliance had been a wrong thing. However when the idea of destroying a world her green eyes widened as she snapped her had around to look at the taller man. "Mei, tāmāde húndàn- just.. gone? Not even no spot in the Black t'...." That was something even she couldn't wrap her head around. Sure there were rumors about super powered weapons in the Alliance, but that was all they had been. Rumors. Gwen swallowed hard hardly finding the ability to even look at the man for the time. What limits where the feeling of humanity to be pushed to in some verses that it would cause the destruction of an entire planet? "Sounds like Shadow too. We took our last stand on Hera, but they bombed the hell outta us like there weren't no end in sight. Nothin like that though... réncí de Fózŭ!"

A moment of silence passed from the Browncoat as she glanced back up at the fighter, running a hand along the hull carefully. When she was able to speak again her words held only an illusion of the humor that had been there before. "All right. Tycho will work too, I guess." When he mentioned pulling up a crate it was as if her knee decided that then was the perfect time to say 'oh! hi! remember me? I'm gonna cause you some pain now k?' which made her quite pleased to see he found her one as well. "Nightmare and such. Guess my biggest fear was my brother endin' me like he swore he would. Came mighty close, but it's gonna take a lot more'n a few hard punches t' get me down."

"There's rubble," Tycho said softly. "Rocks, chunks of the planet's core that have formed a sort of mini asteroid field. You can kind of see where the planet was, but no ... all the plants, the animals, the cities, the mountains, the oceans, the 2 billion lives ... all gone." His mouth tightened his eyes filled with a sadness 13 years hadn't dulled, only allowed him to put a lid on.

"Your brother?" Tycho's eyebrows rose in confusion, but he didn't ask. She could tell him if she wanted to. "I had two sisters, along with a brother..." He seemed to not realize he'd spoken aloud.

"Jonathan was the eldest of us six MacKenzie brats. When the War started he and my other older brother Brian were t' go and join up with the Independents. 's what was expected of them bein' fine sons of Verbena." Sliding down on to the crate she winced, reaching out a hand to rub at her knee a little hoping to sooth the dull ache that was coming out. "He joined th' Alliance instead. Swore he'd see us all ended before the day he died. Every last one of us. Needless t' say it's just him an' me now."

She had taken his place hoping to uphold the family honor that he had tarnished. There was a reason that the family declared him dead from that day on. "Brian died at the second battle for Verbena as did my Da, Ma, lil sister and baby brother. Wil died at th' battle of Tietam at nineteen years old." Gwen turned an apologetic glance toward Tycho trying her best to convey how sorry she was for him losing his family as well. Nothing beat having your entire world destroyed due to political hiccups in the system. "Reckon you hear this a lot, but I'm sorry for your loss. Ain't nothing easy about it all."

"So what's it like where you come from? Aside from all th' fightin an' bein a thorn 'n someones side? You don't seem all th' misfit t' me." Everything was different yet so much alike. Gwen had more questions than there were probably time in the day for them all. Just call it a curious fascination from a stray little kitten.

"I joined the Empire," Tycho said softly. "I was naive, idealistic- I thought I could change the system from within, ease some of the corruption and violence. Then," he shook his head. "Then the Death Star came and my home and my family, my fiance, were all gone in an instant." He smiled lopsidedly at Gwen. "Needless to say, I defected to the rebellion after that."

He nodded as she gave him her sympathies. "It's been 13 years," he said with a shadow of a smile. "I'm not over it, but ... you move on. You live your life. You fight the fights that need fighting. For what it's worth," his eyes are sincere, "I'm sorry for your loss as well. Loosing your whole entire family, is hard, and I can imagine losing your brother to the other side makes it harder."

Tycho laughed. "We were a complete bunch of misfits in the beginning, smugglers and criminals, defectors and farmboys, on the run, fighting just to survive. Oh trust me, there was plenty of misfitness. Now though," he laughed again. "Now, hard as it is for me to beleive some times, we're legitimate. We're the government."

"What it's like where I'm from?" Tycho hesitated. "I'm told," he said slowly, "that there's a place here which can create holographs from your memories. The sensoriums? If you'd care to accompany me there, I could show you ..."

"Jon is dead to me. Ain't no blood relation of mine and if I ever see him I'll put a bullet in his head." Simple. Pure and simple to describe the level of distaste and hate she had to her only surviving relative anywhere. Fear was quickly replaced with anger in her book and had been like that since she was a child. Gwendolyn MacKenzie was not a very shy girl when it came to adventures and leaping before thinking the entire picture through at times. "Thirteen? Wow... guess it's just one of those things you learn t' deal with. At least that's what a friend of mine used to say." And now that friend was gone.. Where had Mal run off too?

Chewing on her bottom lip a little the red head squirmed a little where she sat, raising her right hand to scratch at the back of her neck. "Been about fours since they were killed. Was kinda hard getting all the letters after th' fact since mail was always delayed to us." Of course being on the ship now meant all that was gone- not she hadn't had most of it when she was taken as a POW. Clearing her throat a little the younger woman was thankful for the turn of conversation, a smile instantly lighting up her face. "Sounds like you'ns were Browncoats and didn't even know it!"

"The sensoriums? Yeah. Interestin' thing that. Said you can 'bout see anything in them." Tycho's mentioning of seeing his homeworld had the soldier a little more than interested. "Would I ever!" Sliding from the crate she meeped a little doing a little hopping dance of pain as her knee was jarred. Yes she should have gone to medical over it but, well, the girl was more than a little stubborn. "I'd love t' see it!"

Tycho winced slightly at Gwen's cold rejection of her brother, but it wasn't his place to make judgments on her. He smiled sympathetically as she spoke, and raised his eyebrows at her declaration. He wasn't sure what 'browncoats' were, her brand of rebels he could conjecture. "Something like that, I suppose," he said agreeably.

His smile widened as she agreed to come with, dimpling at the corners, but then turned to a look of concern as she hobbled in plain. "Here, let me," he said, quickly standing himself and reaching out to take a hold of her arm to provide her with his solid form to lean on. "You're hurt," he noted needlessly. "Have you been to medbay to have that looked at?"

Cold rejection or not, Jon was still the enemy in more ways than one. If he saw her he'd try to kill her too- just Gwen hoped if it ever came to that she'd get the upper hand. Steady hands helped her balance enough to keep from falling over. But it was when he asked his question that the most innocent of faces turned up toward the taller man, batting her lashes a little in confusion. "I.. um... no?"

It was just a little twist here and there, along with some kicking from the dream brother in her nightmare, that had done it all. Flashing a wide grin up at Tycho she tried to straighten her leg out a little hoping to cover the flash of discomfort in her eyes. "So we're heading up to do some explorin' or you wanna wait?"

Topic change. It was a needed thing.

Tycho had been around plenty enough pilots who wanted to pretend like they were fine and fit for duty when they weren't to know a deflection when he saw one. "It's clearly hurting you," he pointed out softly. "We should probably take you to get that looked at."

With the hand he wasn't holding out to Gwen, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his omnicom, looking for the map of the ship. He had done a cursory memorization of the layout already, but it didn't hurt to double check. "Looks like we have to go down to level one," Tycho notes. "Lucky we don't have to walk far, since that ... hub-thing will take us there." He smiled winningly down at Gwen as he slid the omnicom back in his pocket.

"I- Bu- You-" The Lieutenant's face took on a slightly disapproving look before she finally rolled her eyes and signed. "It's fine. Just a little on the sore side 's all." Gwen hated medbays. No good came from them with the doctors constant poking and prodding and jabbing with sharp pointy instruments. From a woman who wasn't afraid to stare down the entire Alliance army this was certainly a complete twist about. She had her reasons why the fear of God for medical staff had been placed in her recently. If she had to she would take a swing at the man higher ranked or not.

"You are just horribly rotten you know that?" Why yes the woman might have actually started to pout a little. If he hadn't been holding on to her arm she might have even started to shift her weight nervously from foot to foot. "Seriously. It's nothing. Do we really have to go there?"

Tycho notices her discomfort, and the pout. "If it really is nothing, then we'll be in and out in a light-second," he promises. "We'll just have the med droid declare you fit for duty, all right Lieutenant?" He smiles lightly, but his hand gives hers a reassuring squeeze.

Not waiting to give her more time to object, Tycho starts walking them in the direction of the hub-tubes.

"And no reason t' be taking up his precious time when there are plenty of other folk on this here boat that need the attention." One red brow quirked upward as she tried to give the Colonel a commanding look she had perfected over the course of five years. It was nowhere near as good as his look, but could easily give Celchu a run for his money. "And I honestly do not want to be blamed for someone else needing better attention than just a pulled knee."

But they were off, and she had no choice but to follow. Reassuring squeeze or not Gwen could already feel her heart pounding in her chest. The man was really going to make her go through with this! "Honestly a day off it would work and its something I can manage now since I'm not afraid of falling asleep..."

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

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