Hangar Bay

Tue Nov 22, 2011 10:51 pm by Serrin Roma

Raksha Dhawan wrote: *Raksha doesn't look up from the holographic display she has been studying at first, answering with a shake of her head,* "Nothing for now; just make sure Gee Three knows that we need the docs and the clothing PDFQ. Tell him to make sure the clothing isn't off the rack or have him make it look appropriately weathered for the part we'll be playing. You good? *Jorek doesn't miss a beat, flashing her a grin and nodding with convincing confidence and just the right note of amused incredulity, so Raksha, assuming she is seeing things that aren't there, nods and says,* Go get Gee Three on those docs and clothes then. I want to be ready to move as soon as possible, *and watches as he makes his way from the briefing room for a moment before looking at Krol and saying,* Go get changed and give Dudek a hand with the fighters."

=CDF 2LT Jadzia Krol=

"Roger," *the Samuac says, saluting smartly and turning on her heel with military precision to make her way out of the briefing room.

Inside the hangar itself, Jadzia is loosening the tie of her CDF dress uniform when she sees Przemysl frowning as he stares at his XJ7 as though trying to determine where it is best to start. Shaking her head as she passes him on the way to her quarters, Jadzia asks,* "You know we have about five LE-series repair droids, *she points at a section of the hangar near the machine shop,* to help you out, right? *Chuckling at the surprised look on Dudek's face, she looks over her shoulder and says,* I'll be back in a second to show you how to turn them on if you can't figure it out, don't worry."

=CDF 2LT Przemysl Dudek=

*Clutching his stomach and doubling over, Przemysl says in a flat monotone,* "Ha ha. Ho ho. Very funny, *he wipes imaginary tears of laughter from his eyes as he starts heading over to the droids to bring them on-line and set them to work, muttering,* Wish I knew about these stupid droids earlier."

*Moments later the hangar is filled with noise of the two pilots and five droids beginning to disassemble the Sandpanthers' fighters so that they can be disguised on the Jedi's ship as just more scrap.*

Thu Nov 24, 2011 7:40 pm by Jorek Malestrom

*It was easy to track down Gee Three. Jorek had never known a Threepio-series droid with a particularly likable attitude, and Gee was no exception. Following the sound of inane chatter was slightly torturous, but at least it made the droid easy to find. The only consolation to Gee's personality matrix was that the protocol droid was always eager to take on more organizational duties, so getting the uppity android to procure some garb and forged documents was fairly simple. Gee was on it like a mynock on a power lead. Jorek would follow up in a half hour for the documents. The travelling garb would take a couple of hours -- maybe even longer, but they could pick that up en route if it came to it.

No, the tough part came afterward. Jorek was already itching for a hit. It was time, and soon enough, it would get harder and harder to conceal if he didn't dose. Once he had sent Raksha a quick comm to update her with Gee's progress, which was within mission briefing parameters, he met up with Soap, his R6, to commit fully to the detox.

Soap had everything he needed to get the job done: tranqs, and plenty of 'em, bacta, and a specially formulated cocktail of drugs to counter-act the majority of adverse effects the carsunum withdrawl would impose upon him.*

ok, Suds. It's time. You've been pushing me to squeak *spicer-speak for cleaning up* for weeks, and I've left it as long as I dare. You know the location of my stash. Can it. All of it.

*As soon as he said it, he regretted it. His arms shook, he was cold, and his head began to throb. He nearly took it all back, before the R6 had even finished turning its back to trundle off and destroy the spice, Jorek nearly threw himself at the droid to stop it. But he stood his ground, bit down on the flesh of his left hand to focus his thoughts, until he drew blood.

It would pass. The drugs Soap had access to would help... but it wasn't time for that, yet.*

Sat Nov 26, 2011 9:53 am by Veran Kein

*A GR-45 medium transport, battered and worn out looking even though most of the damage is, according to Kel's astromech, superficial, sets down heavily in the Sand Panther Hangar and, amidst some creaking and groaning and hissing, lowers it's boarding ramp.

*Inside the cockpit, Veran stretches and groans when Kel shakes her awake, muttering through a wide yawn,* "Just resting my eyes for a second." *Blinking and looking around, Veran unstraps herself from the co-pilot's seat and observes,* "There already? Cool."

*Heading down the boarding ramp, dressed in a navy blue mechanic's coverall that looks as battered and worn out as the ship the zabrak wearing it is disembarking from, Veran hooks her thumbs in the fully loaded toolbelt worn around her hips as she looks at the progress the Panthers have made in getting their fighters broken down enough to pass for scrap and looks at Kel as she says,* "Looks like we're all about ready. You, me and Ved," she looks at the astromech rolling along beside Kel, "or whatever his name is can probably start winching some of the fighter parts aboard while they finish up."*

Sun Nov 27, 2011 11:03 pm by Kel'Al Raganella

*As the GR-45 bumped and ground to a stop inside the Sand Panthers' hangar, Kel stole a glance at Veran, and grinned as he saw that the Zabrak was out cold, per usual.* *How she managed to sleep when crammed into a three-sizes-too-small co-pilot's seat, he would never understand, but it was a good skill to have. Kel himself had been forced to sleep in some very awkward positions, and he envied her 'skill.' There was room for 4 other crew members, and a gunner, but none of the other seats looked any bigger. Maybe the passenger quarters below deck would be more Zabrak-sized. But he had his doubts. Gallofree Yards didn't have Zabraks in mind when they designed the GR-45.*

"Hey, look awake." *He hissed, giving her a quick shake, then flipping the levers and lowering the boarding ramp.* *The hissing of escaping gases and coolant filled the air.*

Veran Kein wrote:**Inside the cockpit, Veran stretches and groans when Kel shakes her awake, muttering through a wide yawn,* "Just resting my eyes for a second." *Blinking and looking around, Veran unstraps herself from the co-pilot's seat and observes,* "There already? Cool."

*Heading down the boarding ramp, dressed in a navy blue mechanic's coverall that looks as battered and worn out as the ship the zabrak wearing it is disembarking from, Veran hooks her thumbs in the fully loaded toolbelt worn around her hips as she looks at the progress the Panthers have made in getting their fighters broken down enough to pass for scrap and looks at Kel as she says,* "Looks like we're all about ready. You, me and Ved," she looks at the astromech rolling along beside Kel, "or whatever his name is can probably start winching some of the fighter parts aboard while they finish up."*

"Sev." *Kel smirked as he pulled a black leather jacket over his matching coveralls, and then adjusted the messenger bag-style tool belt he wore over one shoulder.* *His jacket had four colors of patches on the sleeves, and his work boots were different colors, but at least the ragged coveralls looked like they had been washed recently. It was the little things that mattered sometimes.* "I guess we don't have to worry about you ever accidentally slipping up and using someone's real name while we're undercover. You're a walking alias generator."

*Kel paused, and then his face lit up as he remembered another detail of his plan.* "Oh! Veran! Or maybe I should call you Spikey for the rest of this mission -- Could you go find Lt. Dhawan, and help her create new identities for her pilot roster? We'll need to stop by CorSec and get some new ID cards before we leave."

*Turning back to the transport after taking a quick look about the hangar, Kel reached inside the hatchway of the passenger boarding ramp, and flipped a switch. There was a snap-hiss, and the main cargo hold's containment field deactivated.* *The clamshell-like GR-45 medium transport consisted primarily of a massive cargo hold, open at both ends, which held freight shipping containers of all sizes, and were held in place during flight by a containment field. In this case, the containers including quite a number that were big enough to hold an entire starfighter, with room to spare. Two of these already each held half of the Jedi's borrowed MC-24a light shuttle, along with a mess of other scrap. Atop the protective shell-like roof of the transport was a shielded cockpit, with room for 7 crew members, plus passengers. The ship was only lightly armed, with several twin laser cannon turrets, but they weren't planning on getting in a fight. It was simply a carrier and a decoy.*

Serrin Roma wrote:*Moments later the hangar is filled with noise of the two pilots and five droids beginning to disassemble the Sandpanthers' fighters so that they can be disguised on the Jedi's ship as just more scrap.*

*Turning back to the other activity on the hangar, Kel notices two of the pilots and five droids busily dissecting the Squadron's prides and joys into veritable piles of trash.* *It couldn't be entirely a fun job to reduce a close friend to her requisite components, no matter how sure you felt of your abilities to reassemble her. Kel sympathized.* *R2-D7 trailing behind him, accompanies by a stream of smart remarks in binary, the brown-haired young man moved towards Krol and Dudek.*

"Anything we can do to help?"

Mon Nov 28, 2011 6:47 pm by Raksha Dhawan

*Only after she had ensured that everything that could be done to make sure that the Sand Panthers would be ready to go when the Jedi returned and had received the comm from Jorek informing her that Gee Three was in the process of procuring the forged documents and clothing that would be needed to complete the identities she and the others would be assuming did Raksha allow herself a few moments to take a quick shower and change; the thought that not showering might actually help her look and smell more like a scrap merchant, thankfully, not occurring to her until after she had changed into an old pair of olive cargo pants and a black, short sleeved tee.

Putting her waist length black hair up in a messy ponytail, Raksha had returned to the hangar and, seeing that Krol and Dudek, with the help of the hangar's droids, were making progress with the disassembly of their starfighters, Raksha had set about gathering her squad mate's flight suits, helmets and the other gear they would need when the time came to fly their fighters so that she could find a way to disguise and stow them. Using large storage containers, Raksha had stored their flight gear in them, adding tools and other odds and ends so that, at a glance, the containers would appear to be just typical cargo.

When Gee Three had returned with the docs and clothes, Raksha checked everything over even though she knew the droid would have done it's job well, before, finding everything in order, distributing the documents and clothing amoungst her squad and, while doing so, having them give her anything like dog tags or other items that might identify them as CDF or from whatever agencies they originated from. Selecting an olive colored pair of overall style coveralls for herself, Raksha had added a tool belt to her outfit, complete with a vibrohammer, hydrospanner and other odds and ends.*

*When the Jedi return and set down in their GR-45 Raksha is finishing up reassembling her DL-44 heavy blaster pistol and when the Zabrak comes looking for her the Chalactan slides it into holster on her right thigh as she frowns and nods at the GR-45 and says,* "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought, *then adds as she looks around at the activity going on in the hangar,* As soon as we get the fighter pieces on board I'd say we're ready to set out."

Mon Nov 28, 2011 8:52 pm by Veran Kein

Kel'Al Raganella wrote:"I guess we don't have to worry about you ever accidentally slipping up and using someone's real name while we're undercover. You're a walking alias generator."

*Kel paused, and then his face lit up as he remembered another detail of his plan.* "Oh! Veran! Or maybe I should call you Spikey for the rest of this mission -- Could you go find Lt. Dhawan, and help her create new identities for her pilot roster? We'll need to stop by CorSec and get some new ID cards before we leave."

**Veran looks over at Kel and tries her best to look unamused when he says they don't ever need to worry about her using anyone's real name while undercover even though he is right and it actually is pretty funny how bad she is with names.* "Very funny Master Ratajello," Veran says in a deadpan, intentionally, this once anyway, butchering his name.

When Kel tells her to find Dhawan, Veran looks around for the pilot as she says, "Will do Master." *Grinning as she spots the chalactan nearby working on a blaster, Veran sets out in her direction as she says,* "Never fear, Spikey the walking alias generator is on the job."*

Raksha Dhawan wrote: *When the Jedi return and set down in their GR-45 Raksha is finishing up reassembling her DL-44 heavy blaster pistol and when the Zabrak comes looking for her the Chalactan slides it into holster on her right thigh as she frowns and nods at the GR-45 and says,* "You came in that thing? You're braver than I thought, *then adds as she looks around at the activity going on in the hangar,* As soon as we get the fighter pieces on board I'd say we're ready to set out."

**Veran sniffs and rubs the side of her nose as she turns to look over at the ship Kel's droid picked out and shrugs as she looks back at Dhawan and says,* "It looks worse than it is. I think. It got us here anyway." *Putting her hands into the pockets of her coveralls, Veran, not knowing that Dhawan already has her and her people's false I.D.s on hand, explains,* "We're just about ready too. We just need to get everyone set up with new names and I.D.s. CorSec will help with forging the documents, but we need to come up with new names and all for everyone." *Smiling confidently, Veran says,* "I'm real good with names, so if you give me the number of I.D.s we need, we can have the names and other details ready for CorSec."*

Tue Nov 29, 2011 10:04 pm by Raksha Dhawan

*Rahska smiles as she reaches for the rucksack sitting on the workbench beside her and hands Veran the sets of forged documents Gee Three had prepared for the Jedi as she says,* "We've already taken care of the I.D.s. Our protocol droid contacted your academy and got the photos of you we needed for the documents. *Slinging the rucksack over her shoulder, Raksha pats Veran on the shoulder as she starts out for where Dudek, Krol, the droids and the Jedi Master are working on getting the starfighter parts stored as she says,* You're welcome. Now let's get the rest of those fighters on board and go find our people."

*Jorek and Arkady are working on making the squad's newer astromechs look weathered and worn, and Raksha stops near where they are working to inspect their progress before saying,* "Looking good. Wrap it up and get them aboard and then get your personal gear set. Remember, no tags or anything else that would identify us as anything other than scap merchants."

*Walking over to Dudek and Krol, Raksha asks,* "How near are we to completion?"

Tue Nov 29, 2011 11:36 pm by Serrin Roma

Kel'Al Raganella wrote:*Turning back to the other activity on the hangar, Kel notices two of the pilots and five droids busily dissecting the Squadron's prides and joys into veritable piles of trash.* *It couldn't be entirely a fun job to reduce a close friend to her requisite components, no matter how sure you felt of your abilities to reassemble her. Kel sympathized.* *R2-D7 trailing behind him, accompanies by a stream of smart remarks in binary, the brown-haired young man moved towards Krol and Dudek.*

"Anything we can do to help?"

=CDF 2LT Przemysl Dudek=

*A pained look on his face as, the time having at last come for him to turn to the task of taking apart his own XJ7, Przemysl turns from the horrific image of the LE-series repair droids carting off a wing and his fighter's canopy to the Jedi Master and says forlornly,* "No, no Master, I think it's all just about over now. *Running a hand over his close cropped hair, the native Corellian sighs and says,* We just need to start moving everything aboard I guess. *Looking at the ship the Jedi arrived in, Dudek sighs heavily again and says, as much to himself as to Kel'al,* I can't wait until we get to Vortex and start putting everything back together. I just won't feel right until my girl is . . ."

=CDF 2LT Jadzia Krol=

*Rolling her red, glowing eyes, the raven haired Samuac, carrying a bundle of electronics from the cockpit of one of the Spitefuls in her arms, says,* "You are such a drama queen Dudek. Stop your moaning and get to work."

Raksha Dhawan wrote:*Walking over to Dudek and Krol, Raksha asks,* "How near are we to completion?"

=CDF 2LT Przemysl Dudek=

*Glaring at Krol's back, Dudek examines the state of the squad's fighters critically before answering Rhaksha,* "If we all chip in Loo, I think we can have everything stowed aboard that death trap of the Jedi's in about twenty, maybe thirty minutes. *Walking over to his fighter and moaning as he watches another droid finish removing her nose, he says,* The horror, the horror," *and gets to work helping with the work left to be completed.*

Wed Nov 30, 2011 12:07 am by Kel'Al Raganella

*Sev chittered a stream of sarcastic laughter in binary as Veran mangled Kel'Al's last name for about the millionth time. The astromech had acquired quite a personality of his own, and one thing was an appreciation for the cheap, biting humor that humans and certain other sentients seemed to enjoy so much. Sav had tried to explain it to other droids including the Academy's resident C3-series, Pee, but never with any real success.*

*Kel clapped a friendly hand on Dudek's shoulder, and gave the second lieutenant a wry smile.* "Just be glad that you get to have a say in where and how carefully she's dissembled. Remember, if we actually were scrap merchants, we probably wouldn't be this careful. And to our new selves, each piece of junk we haul aboard our freighter is just credits in our pockets, nothing more."

*He stood back as the pilot renewed his efforts (which seemed to be mostly 'supervising' droids), and turned as Raksha and Veran approached.* "It's not a death trap, I promise. And it only has to get us there." *The Jedi winked.* "I brought along all the pieces of a nice little Mon Cal shuttle to accompany your fighter pilots on the return trip."

*Kel moved to roll up the sleeves of his Jedi robes out of habit, and met the sleeves of the patched leather jacket instead. Quickly disguising his movements (he had better practice this stuff), he took off the jacket, and tossed it to Sev, who only barely reacted in time to avoid being enveloped in the garment. Then, he followed the next droid up the ramp into the back of the freighter, and proceeded to oversee the randomization and storage of the starfighter components.* *In twenty-nine minutes, and in spite of Sev's still-uncorrected clumsy streak (he nearly knocked over an entire stack of empty cargo crates) they were done.*

Thu Dec 01, 2011 8:44 pm by Veran Kein

Kel'Al Raganella wrote: "It's not a death trap, I promise. And it only has to get us there." *The Jedi winked.* "I brought along all the pieces of a nice little Mon Cal shuttle to accompany your fighter pilots on the return trip."

*Kel moved to roll up the sleeves of his Jedi robes out of habit, and met the sleeves of the patched leather jacket instead. Quickly disguising his movements (he had better practice this stuff), he took off the jacket, and tossed it to Sev, who only barely reacted in time to avoid being enveloped in the garment. Then, he followed the next droid up the ramp into the back of the freighter, and proceeded to oversee the randomization and storage of the starfighter components.* *In twenty-nine minutes, and in spite of Sev's still-uncorrected clumsy streak (he nearly knocked over an entire stack of empty cargo crates) they were done.*

*Veran does her best to not let her expression reveal anything other than utter confidence in what Kel says about the ship they will all be relying on to get them to Vortex, keeping a stoic face and even nodding her agreement to what he says for Dhawan's benefit.

*Following Kel as he heads into the freighter to help with the loading and arranging, Veran says,* "Doogana or whatever that lady with the stuff in her face is called already took care of the falsified documents for everyone so we can cross that off the to-do list." *Taking the set of documents that has been prepared for Kel from a pocket of her coveralls, Veran hands it to him and says,* "There's your new name and identity."

*Once everything is aboard the freighter, Veran looks around at the convincingly jumbled collection of parts from the Sandpanthers' ships and genuine scrap and says,* "Looks convincing to me," *and then pats Kel heartily on the back as she says,* "Let's get everyone aboard and get moving."*

Sun Dec 04, 2011 9:58 am by Jorek Malestrom

*Jorek was last aboard, shunted the whole way by a newly dirty 'Soap,' who complained bitterly about the faux-rust and real dents that had been added to his otherwise pristene frame. The astromech went on at some length about the indignity of being made ugly. At the same time as the complaints, Soap was also excited about the cloak-and-daggar quality of the mission, and told Jorek so in no uncertain terms.

The whole time, the pilot only wished he could tear out the droid's vocoder. The Binary was making his head throb, and he felt like hell. One foot in front of the other, carrying his kit (or more appropriately, whatever he managed to throw into his dufflebag) is about all he can manage. He looks like death warmed over, and feels about as bad. Luckily, it suits the role. The grubby coverall, multicolored scarf and mechanic's belt, overflowing with mech trinkets really upholds the myth of a scrap merchant, and his waxy pallor and bloodshot eyes only add to the effect.

Gee Three shuffles behind Jorek, blithering instructions and reminders incessantly, most of which fall on deaf ears. The droid does manage to press five Ident-cards into Jorek's hand, all suitably weathered and worn. As Jorek approaches the medium freight barge, he shakes his head mournfully. ...By the Gods... anything but this piece of trash... Boarding via the rear ramp, he witnesses the bulk loaders and heavy lifter droids finalizing the orchestrated chaos of the hold, positioning scrap material just so around the fighters.

His head swam a little, and he felt terribly nauseous. Grasping for the railing, he plodded up the ramp, hydrospanners and bits of junk tinkling against his legs. His 'act' drew great laughs from Dudek and Krol, who were supervising the lifter droids. Their humor went right over his head, as he was mostly concerned with not throwing up on their boots. He rifled through the stack of ID cards, dropping his own and Arkady's, before finding the two he sought.*

Here... Mesoth.

*He thrust a faded Ident card toward Dudek. He was 'Dylan Mesoth,' a trader and merchant from Thyferra. Not looking up as he sorted the cards, he passed another to Jadzia.*

And this one's yours... Zaro.

*Krol was Luma Zaro, Ship's Engineer, from Coruscant. Stooping to pick up the two dropped ID cards, Jorek waved off help from Dudek, swaying slightly as he stood upright again. Smiles and chuckles at his apparent 'act' were quickly fading to concern. He was being asked questions. He tried his level best to answer, but it all sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher. Everything was muddy.

Only when his astromech 'bumped into' him (actually injecting a cocktail of drugs and adrenaline into his butt, with a great deal of subterfuge, for a droid) did the scene swim back into focus. Jorek apologized and explained that he really was feeling sick, even as the color came back to his face a little.*

--Need some rack time, is all. Think I'm coming down with something. Luckily, we've got a jump ahead that'll net me at least a little rest. Where's Raksha? Better drop off her ID too, and stow my gear...

Mon Dec 05, 2011 12:20 am by Serrin Roma

=CDF 2LT Przemysl Dudek=

*Dudek, who tends to be self-absorbed to the point he misses, when not in a cockpit, eighty percent of what goes on around him unless a female of any reasonably attractive human standards is involved, finds Jorek's lack of coordination and claim to be sick more amusing than concerning. Looking over his identity docs for the mission, the native Corellian grins and notes,* "Authentically weathered and everything. Sweet! *before pocketing it and patting Jorek on the shoulder and saying,* You do kinda look like something a Krayt Dragon chewed up and spit out brother. Why don't ya give me the ID and let me give it to Raksha for ya while you go and catch some zees? *Grinning, Przemysl says in slightly too loud of a voice to match the conspiratorial tone he is going for,* That ID isn't all I'd like to give . . ."

=CDF 2LT Jadzia Krol=

*Smacking Dudek upside the head before he can finish his comment, the Samuac, used to her fellow pilot's adolescent sense of humor and yet still occasionally annoyed by it, says,* "Stow that *&^% Mesoth, *and, as Dudek rubs the back of his head with an innocent and bewildered expression that suggests he has no idea how he could have possibly offended her and makes her want to hit him upside the head again, looks at Jorek with a critical air and, not anywhere as oblivious as Dudek but not interpreting Jorek's behavior correctly either, says carefully,* You sure you're alright? Whatever you caught sure came down quick. You sure it isn't just, *she holds up her hands as she knows she might piss him off with the suggestion and wants to make it clear she isn't questioning his courage,* nerves? You ever been on a recon or extraction job? Just remember your basic and do what the Jedi or the El Tee tell you to alright? *Not wanting to belabor her point, Jadzia nods towards the stairs leading up to the cockpit and says,* I think the El Tee is up with the Jedi."

Sat Dec 10, 2011 2:16 pm by Jorek Malestrom

*Dudek and Krol's words wash over Jorek in a haze. He has a dim recollection of agreeing to pass off the ID cards to Dudek, managing a weak smile, and excusing himself to find a place to curl up in and die.

Climbing the stairs to the command module seemed to take a lifetime, and when he reached the top, the lure of the bed was simply too strong. Finding an empty bunk (with no knowledge of whose it was, or had been assigned to, he fell face-first into the rack, and fell into a feverish sleep.

Wracked with chills and shakes, it would be instantly recognizable to anyone with even a passing knowledge of drug addiction that Jorek was deep in the scourge which was withdrawl, were it not for the presence of 'Soap.' The astromech droid kept watch almost constantly over his Master, administering regular doses of the special cocktail of drugs that, while they'd cause additional damage of their own, masked the worst of the symptoms so that it would appear to most that the flight officer was suffering symptoms of a flu.

As Malestrom was fully unconscious at the moment, it was the very best he could hope for. Time, and fate would decide at this point.*

Sat Dec 10, 2011 11:30 pm by Serrin Roma

=CDF 2LT Przemysl Dudek=

*Scrunching up his nose as he watches Jorek, looking worse by the minute, head off, the native Corellian, too oblivious to differentiate between withdrawl and the flu, moans,* "Man, I hope whatever he has isn't catching," *before, running a hand through his short brown hair to make it even more spiffy, he heads to the command module to hand off the docs to Raksha as promised.

When he finds Raksha, as predicted with the pair of Jedi, Dudek tosses her the docs and grins as he says,* "Think fast Yula, *since the name Raksha will using is Yula Damiel, and then, looking around at the three high muckety mucks for this op, holds his hands out at his sides and asks,* We leavin' now or what? We're ready, *he claps his hands together,* We are lean, mean fightin' machines! *He pumps his fist in the air,* Let's do this thing! Yeah! Let's mothafrippin' roll baby!"

Sat Dec 10, 2011 11:58 pm by Kel'Al Raganella

*There was a bone-chilling clank as the Jedi master secured the boarding ramp, locking them all into what could only be properly described as a tomb waiting to happen.* *But Kel had some experience with starships and he sensed that the craft would hold together long enough to suit their purposes. Besides, Sev had given all the critical support parts and the hyperdrive a good scanning and declared them to be -- if only barely -- within safe limits. And the Force was with them. He wouldn't have stumbled into Veran's meeting as his very first act after returning to Corellia unless they were intended to work together on this mission. The Jedi Master's tension melted away. He'd have to watch the others though -- especially the non-Jedi. They needed to be sharp and confident when they arrived on Vortex.*

*Atop the massive cargo hold, in the tiny cockpit pod, the Jedi Master, or as he was now know, Timothy 'Cap' Akazi, sat down behind the controls with a heavy sigh. Akazi adjusted the false beard that had been applied to his face, feeling very uneasy with the unfamiliar addition to his body.* *It felt like his highly tuned senses could identify every hair in the entire piece. The ID card in his pocket gave him considerably less trouble, although when he finished reading the extent of his cover, he might not be so happy. Akazi had been given a long criminal from his youth on his native Talus.*

*Without a word, Raksha slid into the co-pilot's seat beside him moments later.* :: Let's get the frip out of here. :: *Cap announced over their new com channel.* :: If the Force wills, we have three friends waiting for us. :: *Matching his words to action, he checked that the containment field system was engaged and locked, then fired up the engines, listening to their putter and chatter for a few seconds. Sev, wedged behind the pilot's seat, hooted something in binary, and the undercover Jedi grinned.* "Oh shaddup."

*Ten second later, they were airborne, sailing out over the open water off the shores of the Golden Beaches as the old GR-45 climbed towards orbit. She had been rechristened the "Dearic Bargain" after the capital city of Talus, an illusion to her supposed captain's supposed back story, but Cap wondered to himself if "Fool's Bargain" might not have been a better name. He wasn't worried, exactly, just curious about what the Force had in store.*

Sat Apr 07, 2012 5:54 pm by Knight-Errant Edge

*Two Squadron's of fighters make their way into the hanagar bay. Some are battle scarred, some are in pristine condition, and two are brand new off the factory floor. All bear the Sand Panther insingia on their fuselage, kill markers beneath the cockpit, and callsigns and nametags alike. A flight of five other fighters are being slave controlled by extra crew inside a TL-1800 Freighter, which follows the two squadrons in.*

*This is the first time both squadrons have flown together, and many of the pilots do not know each other. That being said both squadrons have been on a long term haitu, and few of the pilots even know members of the THird Squadron, or even their wereabouts. But all that will change soon enough.*

*Pilots land their craft in their designated berths, powering down their fighters and climbing out. All wear dark green pilot suits, including the eight Jedi, clearly identified by the lightsabers hanging from their belts. Three Masters, Two Knights, and Three Apprentices, are joined by a gaggle of humans, and two Verpine. They quickly get to talking as they move inside the facility.*

Sun Apr 08, 2012 4:35 pm by Knight-Errant Edge

*Edge and Marcella are going to fly to the Jedi Temple and see if anyone there seems to know what happened to the rest of the Panthers. Both pilots hop in their flight suits, grab their helmets, and proceed to their fighters. Edge's brand new Mustang Strike Fighter sits it it's landing spot, still sporting the base gray paint. Her name is crudely painted below the cockpit, and while her R9 Unit "Cappie" rests in the astronomech bay, the navicomputer has no hyperspace coordinates, and the fighter has no 'personality' yet. Marcella's E-Wing on the other hand has been hers for many years, so the battle scars are all there, and she knows each and every inch of her ship.*

*The two fighters power up as both pilots secure themselves in the restraints. Repulsorlifts glide the craft out of their berths and into the hangar bay main floor area, and soon they glideo ut of the hangar. Pouring power into their engines, Marcella takes Edge's wing, and the pair of fighters head towards the Academy.*

:: Any idea who we should talk to about this Edge? ::

:: Most likely Master Serin, or maybe Master Frantz if he's there. If not who knows, maybe the droid that's always wandering about has an idea. ::

:: CT something I think. Very well, on your wing Panther Lead. ::

Mon May 07, 2012 9:39 am by Knight-Errant Edge

*Edge and Marcella fly back to the hangar bay and quickly and efficently guide their fighters into their appropiate landing spots. Shira is there waiting for them, and a few of the other Panthers are working on their fighters. Both females shut down their fighters, and Edge takes time to use the Force to pull Cappie onto the hangar deck.*

<< What did you learn? >> *she asks the duo as they approach. Marcella grabs her wrist datapad and begins uploading them into the computers.*

'The rest of the squadron is at Vortes on a mission. Several Jedi Masters and Knights have gone missing, along with Captain Witwer, and they are there in a rescue attempt. They only left a couple days ago so we have to rent a transport large enough to go and support them." *Edge says as they walk towards the rest of the facility.*

<< "Who do you plan on taking?" >>

"Depeneding on the size of the transport: myself, Marcella, P.J, you, the Twins, Hnas, and Marcus. If we have more room I'd like James to lead a Flight from his Squadron too. But we might have at least six other fighters and two transports to carry as well so we need to leave room for them."

*Marcella interjects as she continues to tap away at the datapad.*

"I've got the computer pulling up all known information on the planet and the people that reside there, including known defenses."

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