BASE:

When you joined the rebellion, you imagined shiny space bases and living those Clone Wars history specials on the holovid. That is, for the most part, absent as you ride a repulsorlorry across endless fields of Dantooine grains. You’ve been flying for at least 4 hours, and the only thing to change is the time of day.

As the truck finally slows down, you spy an agricultural equipment hangar, suitably large for the area it needs to cover. As your vehicle pulls to a stop, a farm mechanic comes out and beacons you inside. “Welcome to Dustbowl Base, glad you can make it. I’m Commander Rijin. We’re still refitting your ships, but you should be good to fly in a few hours. Meanwhile, if the imperials ask you’re officially farmhands, not pilots, and quarters are around back. We don’t expect many questions though, given how far out in the boonies we are.”

Inside the equipment hangar is an even dozen stripped down Clone Wars-era Y-wings, half of them with cropdusting rigs hanging from their normal bomb bays. The flash of arc welders from astromechs and mechanics show work underway as rigs are removed and cannons are attached.

“Briefing is at sunset, in 3 hours. Go ahead and get settled, then we’re taking your ships out for a test drive.”

Camanis stifles a yawn as he gazes out at the endless fields. "At least its not pollen season," Camanis says. "Otherwise we'd find out right quick which of us has allergies. Do you suppose it piles up like snow, or does it just hang about in a haze?" The uncomfortable silence of the lorry resumes. Camanis can't blame them. The unchanging scenery is downright stupefying.

The base itself seems pretty effectively camouflaged, but Camanis only has eyes for the fighters. Real starfighters. Okay, so they're Y-Wings and not exactly built for speed, but they're better than some freighter only designed to plod along a trade lane, and much faster than a pod. The moment he's dismissed, Camanis lopes towards them looking to seek if he can get a mechanic's attention. "Right, which one's mine and who's going to help me rejigger the cockpit?"

An unpainted chrome astromech wheels over to Camanis and squawks harshly at him.

"Because," Camanis says, waving his limbs a bit, "if you stick me in a cockpit made for a human, you're going to get some blinking terrible piloting. Half the controls are going to be out of place."

The astromech continues grumbling irritably.

"Look, uh..." One of the mechanics looks over and calls out a droid designation, "..Zh1-M? You can call this piece of gfersh yours if you want. I don't care who holds the kriffing title. But if you're riding bucket behind me, maybe you'd like me to be able to reach the pedals properly, yeah? Otherwise 'your' fighter's going to get blown up and us with it."

Zh1-M paused a moment, then blatted something resembling a concession.

"Fine, let's get it sorted then," Camanis says, going to fetch a ladder for the cockpit. "That way I'll stop wasting your precious time and can get to staring at the walls of the barracks for the next three hours."

Wulf was smiling the whole way to base. Noticing other people dozing off or stifling a yawn he couldn't help but enjoy the view a slight reminder of the home who could never go back to.Whispering to the black domed droid next to him " Fix reminds you abit of home eh ? " he listened to the droid give a happy whistle followed by a few beeps that he couldn't help but roll his eyes before replying to his droid " Yeah I suppose it rains alot here but hey at least it shouldn't snow as bad ". They continued their journey in silence focused on the landscape and tuning out the other chatter in the repulsorlorry.

When they arrived at the hanger he could hear his droid pipe up as they disembarked from the lorry. He shook his head " Fix what you thought this be like the old bases we served?" looking questionably at his droid but before they could continue their conversation they where greeted by the station commander. Hastily dropping his bag he gave a quick salute which his droid followed up on. Noticing his commander not returning it he could feel a little hot under the collar before the thought hit him it was a bad idea to do it on a imperial world. Quickly droping the salute " Sorry sir just a habit from the old days " seeing the commander nod he allowed him self to be at ease while the the commander gave them their quick directives before dismissing the group.

As Wulf made a few quick mental notes of his surroundings he patted his droid on his dome " Alright lets find the quarters and drop our kit before the briefing maybe find the chow hall". With that the former imperial and the droid began making their way to the barracks.

" So, this is the Rebellion, is it, Gigi?" asks Astrid. "Not quite as romantic as you made it seem." R3-GG gives a soft whine in protest. "I know, I know," says Astrid. "Everyone's got to start somewhere."

Gigi gives a soft trill. "Yeah," says Astrid. "I guess it is a little impressive. You ever thought you'd see this many Rebel droids in one place?" Gigi gives a short blurt. "Don't take it out on me!" says Astrid. "You've got your work cut out for you if you think you can recruit a droid pool like this one."

Astrid turns to the commander and points to the Y-wings. "Can these things fight? I've flown cropdusters. Please tell me these things ain't cropdusters."

The commander shrugs. "They're Clone Wars surplus, demilitarized and modified for civilian applications, being re-militarized with what we think we can sneak in past the imperial patrols without drawing attention. Can they fight? They were once top of the line military hardware, but now ...I'd say beggars cant be choosers."

R3-GG scans the hangar floor, her dome turning almost 360 degrees. She lilts out something in binary, and her photoreceptor turns toward Commander Rijin.

Astrid pauses, then says, "Uh— Gigi… I mean, R3-GG, wants to know, what's this base's purpose… er, objective? I mean… why are we here?" The droid bleats, and Astrid stands up a bit straighter. "… Sir."

"It's simple enough- it's for fixing and fueling hyper-capable fighters. Once the refits are complete, we should be able to stage attacks on imperial convoys throught the sector."

To say Flea looked unsettled in the back of the lorry would be an understatement. His upper arms were ever-crossed across his flight jacket two sizes too big while his lower arms seemed to constantly be fidgeting and pulling at the seams of his baggy pants. Hard to tell by his eyes that he was constantly shifting his field of vision across the horizon. Xexto were arboreal by nature and the flat grain fields of Dantooine were nerve-wracking at best. The spindly-limbed Xexto was using his repurposed R4-unit as a backprop while the R4's conical dome swiveled with as much nervous clamor as Flea's arms.

"Keep your eyes open, Gate. This whole place is giving me the heebiejeebies." The R4 cooed agreeingly and continued its survey of the land.

As the speederlorry was greeted by the would-be farmhand, Flea seemed to perk up. He pulled himself standing with his upper arms and dusted his breeches off with his lower arms. Once finally standing, he pulled his riding goggles off his eyes and surveyed the squadron of Y-Wings. A visible change was noted in his demeanor as his nervous jitters was washed away by childlike wonder.

"You see those, Gate?! ACTUAL starfighters! Sure as garm beats those tramp freighters we had back home" The R4 whirred in excitement and his dome swiveled rapidly.

Flea leapt from the lorry before it had come to a complete stop his odd gait expressively noting his excitement to be in the hangar bay. Regardless of the conversation at hand, Flea spun around to address Commander Rijin, "Sir, Fleasango reporting for duty! Which of these beautes is mine? Can Gate get to work on retrofitting the comms and control systems? Is there a mess ha--" His line of questioning never seemed to end as he bounded toward one of the fighters that was nearing readiness.

Gaaraddik looks around the hanger and lets out a few low growls and grunts which translate to (So this is the place where we start to make a difference? Not a tree in sight how depressing.) A droid that looks to be made out of Woryshryr bark lets out a series of low whistles and beeps. The Wookiee looks at him for a moment and replies (Your are right Wook this is no different than faceing down Trandoshans on Kashyyyk.) Turning to the commander of the base Gaaraddik asks ( I assume that one of those is modified so I can fit inside?)

The commander nods to Gaaraddik. "We were told you were coming, Ensign Garr. I've got translation modules for all the other astromechs, so any pilot who cannot understand you will at least be able to get a translation from their droid. As to your ship, we dont have enough personel to provide gunners, so in addition to locking every ship's turret foreward, we removed your ship's gunner seat entirely so we could give you extra legroom."

After 3 hours of familiarization with your craft and quarters, the commander shouts you all over to the center of the hangar.

Once assembled, he pulls out a personal holocom, showing an asteroid field near a nebula. "We've been designated Spade squadron, and we've got a shakedown mission. We'll be meeting up with Heart Squadron and attacking an imperial shipment passing through this point. Heart Squadron will handle most of the escorts, you're on disabling the transports. Both of our squadrons will be arriving early, so we can conduct maneuvers before the imperials arrive. Any Questions?"

Astrid grins. "Sound like my kind of mission!" R3-GG greets her enthusiasm with a curt bloop. "Well, when I hear 'disable,' I think 'blow to space dust.' Are we supposed to destroy these transports? Or do we plan to take their cargo for ourselves… Sir?"

Satisfied that the controls were repositioned to his liking and that he wouldn't have to turn his head to read any important indicators, Camanis vaulted out of the cockpit of his Y-Wing and made his way to the briefing.

It is surprisingly brief. Somehow, he had imagined that military briefings would be full of fiddly matters like where everyone was supposed to be and when they were supposed to engage. Camanis supposes it's good that command trusts their discretion, but he also doesn't want some drunken mynock stumbling into him because they aren't getting their hand held.

Camanis crosses his arms, looking speculatively at the holographic asteroid field. "What are Heart Squadron flying?" he asks. "And what kind of escort are we expecting?" Just because the transports are their primary objective doesn't mean they can't help clean up afterwards if there's enough to go around. Or if "Heart Squadron," what kind of a name is that, anyway? he thinks, doesn't have their act together.

Gaaraddik looks at the asteroid field intently studying it for a few minutes than he turns to his astromech and lets out a low growl "( Wook can you analyze the asteroid field and look for any ways we use the asteroids movement to our advantage? )" The droids servos whirl vigorously as W0-0K looks for any advantage among the moving of the asteroids. Without waiting for the droid's response the wookiee asks Commander Riijin "(Commander will we have Ion weaponry to disable the transports or will we be forced to target the engines with standard lasers?)"

The commander shakes his head. "Another transport will be arriving to liberate the imperial cargo once we've taking out it's escorts. We've reinstalled the Ywings dorsal Ion cannon armamant and lasers, but we dont have enough torpedos or bombs to go around, so as the new guys we're having to do without this time."

Checking his datapad, the commander adds, "Heart Squadron has been assigned... Kuati RZ-1 Intercepters. Much more maneuverable than us, but with far weaker armamant or defenses. We're expecting a gozanti or two of tie fighters, which they should be able to handle easilly enough, but if the gozantis themselves are armed we may need to handle them for heart squadron."

Raising his hand he waits till the commander looks before asking his question. " Sir do we have any intel on possible enemy quick response units? " . Fix next to him chirps up soban looks down to him and then asking another question " Do we also have any intel on the normal fighters used by the empire in the sector if so are we looking at ties or we might see a mix with v-wings? "

Flea and Gate are furiously rummaging through the scrap piles next to what appears to be a fairly well maintained Y-Wing when the commander re-enters the room. "C'mon, Gate. Wing Command is back. Let's see what he's got to say." Gate whirs a contemptuous noise as he signals for the astromech lift to eject him from the pod where he had been calibrating controls and sensors to Flea's liking. Flea doesn't seem to be aware of the time constraints to remove his R4 from the Y-Wing and has already joined the others in the huddle to hear the briefing.

With his flight goggles perched precariously on his q-tip shaped head, Flea listens intently to the conversation and swivels his attention to the others in the squadron as they ask their questions. As the others are speaking and asking questions, Flea's lower arms are furiously taking notes on a small pad of paper with a graphite writing instrument native to Troiken. Very primitive to what the others are likely accustomed to.

After the other's questions have been addressed, Flea courteously raises one of his upper hands, "Sir, you mentioned a nebula in the area near the asteroid field. Are we to leverage the nebula for cover or maneuvers or should we focus our ambush on the asteroid field? From what I remember at the academy, the nebula may help mask our signatures whereas the asteroid field would just provide a visual cover. Besides, I think these Y-Wings could handle a little interference the nebula may cause but an errant asteroid could be devastating to such small starfighters, Sir!"

Unbeknownst to Flea, Gate had wheeled his way to his side and was chirping in excitement at the prospects of not seeking cover in a shifting asteroid field. Flea's head pivoted from side to side reflecting at the others and hoping to a gauge a reaction from their facial expressions.

Camanis is unable to keep himself from chuckling at the Xexto's earnest manner. The Dug isn't sure whether he's trying to get noticed by command or he's just genuinely helpful, but it's not the sort of thing Camanis finds endearing in either case. Brown-nosers are always the first to sell you out to the higher ups, he thinks with a sneer on his face.

"What's the matter, cotton swab?" he says, looking over at Flea. "Don't think you're up to dodging a few rocks?"

R3-GG blurts out a rude rejoinder to the Dug, and Astrid shrugs. "Sorry, Gigi. I'm with the Dug here. Let's not overthink it. Let's just go out there and wreck some stuff." The R3 unit emits a clipped trill, leading Astrid to roll her eyes. "Fine, fine. Of course you think the Xexto's question was a good one."

The commander shakes his head. "Imperial Tie fighters lack hyperdrive, and we'll be operating far enough from any reinforcements that we wont have to worry about a reaction force. Last I heard, Vwings were retired a few years back when they standardized on the tie fighter- if we see any, they wont be imperials."

"The nebula, as you call it, is an ion storm. Pretty, but not something we want to spend any real amount of time in. It's part of the reason we ecpect the shipment to drop from hyper here, but the imperials will be maintaining some distance from it for the same reasons we are."

"Any other questions?"

Fix whistled once and then Soban spoke once more " Me and fix are good here sir, just give the word and we will get underway".

Astrid rests her hadn't on Gigi's dome. "Yeah, let's wail."

Flea's bulbous head tilts indignantly at Camanis but ultimately he chooses to bite his tongue. After the commander clears up the situation with the nebula, Flea nods in agreement and pats Gate on the dome. The astromech whirrs in excitement and extends his third wheel before pivoting and heading back towards the Y-Wing that was assigned to the crew.

Flea agrees with Astrid and says, "Agreed! What're we waiting for?!"

Looking at the others, the commander dismisses the group to their ships, jogging off to his own.

Ships power up, flight crew remove fuel lines, and Spade Leader, Commander Rijin's craft hovers across to the hanger door, then lifts away.

(Everyone give me an easy piloting check to follow)

Wulf gets into his craft after fix gets locked in. Fix whistles behind him and his question scrolls on his screen." So we are really going to shoot some former allies?" wulf shock his head " Yeah but this is War Fix and besides its never good to take life any way but we got to do it". Playing with his controls abit he prepares the lift off sequence speaking to the droid " Hey Fix just make sure to watch our six when we are out there." Fix whistled his agreement as Wulf slowly took off after the commander. (Roll results here http://orokos.com/roll/553118)