Kieran stood in the hangar of the ship, directly in the middle of the two lanes. It was mostly empty except for several fighters that required a lot of work that apparently meant that their innards were spread across the entire deck. He missed the times when the cruiser held a fraction of its current complement, when it was more or less a staging area for the SpecForce, most of whom had left now to perform various other tasks and missions leaving only him and his platoon aboard to train those who needed it, and more or less do all the tough jobs of the upcoming campaign. The mission was simple, the planet was poorly defended and with the use of the Endurance and the Starfighter corps the space borne Imperials wouldn’t stand a chance, there wasn’t even a Star Destroyer in orbit, couple of light cruisers and expected TIEs launching from the surface.
He walked upto the LAAT that would be inserting his squad, the SpecForces would be bypassing the main landing zone in one of the mines and inserting directly into the city so were expected to receive the most fire going down, which was fine for him. He had been trained for it by both CorSec and the Alliance. He walked up and began running his hand over the outer edge of the ship, checking for any cracks or signs of structural weakness, being “rebels” he couldn’t hope for it to be flawless but anything severe would have to be sorted before they went down. He smiled as he passed the centre and looked to the other side of the craft and saw a Y-Wing sitting there, Kytra Aldes Y-Wing to be exact. It would save him to look for her when he had to later, he had promised her father to keep an eye on her after all.
Kytra looked up from her work when she felt eyes on her back, glancing around to catch sight of Kieran, the ships resident badass groundpounder. A hint of a smile crossed her lips as she turned back to face her ship, speaking loud enough for him to hear over the perpetual commotion of a carriers main hangar deck “Worrying over me again are you Kieran?” She said only half seriously, still mostly focused on the intricate design she was painting onto one of the side panels of her ship. For once the temperamental beast that was Thranta 2 was completely ready for battle. The crystals in the Ion cannon were aligned, the coolant system was working correctly, the magazine was loaded with Proton Torpedoes and she had even put all the armoured cladding back on, much to the chagrin of all the rest of the engineers.
And so, now that she had spare time, she was putting her expensive Alderaanian artistic education to use. This time the subject was a Manka cat, emblazoned on the ship's starboard side hull plating looking as though it were in the middle of leaping at the Astromech. She liked to think that the designs encouraged her to not get hit, as blaster fire would thoroughly ruin the plating on which they were set.
He continued to run his hand over the craft, and stepped out the way of the pilot as he carted some ordnance to the launchers in the craft. He himself had all his gear on, usually he would be wearing the clone trooper armour he had repainted however just about the ship he continued to wear his jacket, helmet for the communicator and had his rifle slung over his shoulder. He enjoyed the look he got from some of the others who weren’t allowed to wield their weapons openly, the joy of command. “I looked at you for a split second, not everything is about you Aldes.” He continued walking around the craft till he stood beside the Y-Wing. Leaning against the LAAT.
“What’s wrong, you’re painting. Surely you should be disassembling it like everyone else.” He pointed a finger to the craft sitting below the main hangar door. “Not that I know how anyone is going to launch with all that mess there anyway.”
Kytra chuckled softly at the first remark. She hadn’t exactly concealed her family ties from anyone on the crew, and some of them liked to poke fun at that little aspect every chance they got, though in this case it was probably more because Kieran liked to be perceived as a fearless, worriless warrior. Or at least thats what most of his subordinates thought. Why would he care about just another one of the Alliances many flygirls?
“Whats wrong? Nothing, for a change. For one shining, brief moment, my ship is totally and completely functional. You know it's remarkable how easily things break in a ship that can survive a direct hit from a TIE.” Her voice took on a less than serious mirthful tone then “If I don’t hang around here, someone might come along and break it again just by leaning on it!” She said, flashing a grin at the older man.
“Well you did pay the credits for it, unlike the other ships around here-” He pointed at a couple of older clone war Y-Wings, Z-95s and even a couple of X-Wings that while newer ships were in pretty poor condition. “-she was bought new, as unlike the other pilots you have the money for it.” He moved as the pilot of the LAAT pushed him away from the door. “At least you aren’t as pushy as some of the other pilots.” He cast his hand back at the pilot of the LAAT, a grumpy looking old man who could have well been his great grandfather by the looks of him.
He just hoped he wouldn’t have a heart attack on the way and die, that or die of old age. He brushed his hand against the craft. “This is one of the biggest ops most people on the ship have ever done. You think you’re ready for this?”
“Had the money.” Kytra corrected. “Now I’m as reliant on the Alliance as the rest of us. Well unless I go and beg some money from the family I guess.” She put the paintbrush down then, and turned to face Kieran, leaning back softly on the hull next to the painting. “Ready? By the Force no. Don’t tell the rest of the squadron, but I’m terrified. If I can't do my job right, or if I get shot down early, all you boys in your dropships could be sitting ducks. One thing I’ve learned since being here, is that they never write about how scared all those heroes in the books must’ve been before all those battles.”
“As long as you know where you and your wingmate are you’ll be fine, you’re number two so you’ll be sticking to the most experienced pilot. You’ll be fine.” He pulled out a nearby box and seat on it. “The nerves never go away, you just get used to them. They’re survival instincts and will kick in to keep you alive. Use it, I’m not big on the whole idea of the Force so don’t know how you’ll take this but use your nerves and your fear. They’ll keep you alive, keep you fast. Though don’t let them cloud your judgement. Just trust in your squadron, you’ll get through this.” He sat his rifle across his lap and then pointed to her leaning on her ship. “You sure that isn’t going to break it?”
“Oh probably.” She replied, with a smirk. “But then it’ll be broken again the moment I start up the engines. Can’t even taxi across the hangar without something overheating or getting shaken out of position. They need a lot of work, these Y-Wings, but if you put the time in, they’ll always bring you home. How long until we get there?” She put her best noble airs on then, though could not keep it up for the whole statement, barely holding back laughter at herself for it. “I don’t mean to sound like a petulant child, but this waiting is doing nothing good for my nerves.”
Kieran looked at his chrono on his wrist. “We’re at T-minus… one hour till mission launch.” He stood up and stretched, before pulling one of the pistols out of its holster. He handed it to her. “Even when we get a landing zone it’ll likely be rough down there. Keep an eye out.” He slung his rifle back around his back looking up and down the hanger, pieces of craft were still lying about everywhere and he began walking away, only to turn around. “Also, see what you can do to help tidy up this mess.” He indicated at the pieces of ship everywhere and watched as people looked up to him from their work. “Yeah I’m talking to all of you! Tidy up this darn mess.”
Kytra sighed in relief, they were almost there. When Kieran handed her a blaster pistol, she looked at it oddly for a moment. Why did she need another gun? Then she realised. “Now I have to make it. To give you back your gun on the other end. Hopefully unfired.” She couldn’t help but laugh when he turned and started shouting at the mechanics. Their reaction was priceless - suddenly lethargic and lazy engineer crews leaping into action as though their lives depended on it, scurrying about like frightened sea-mice. Normally she would join them in tidying the hangar, but since she was just about to deploy to a combat op, she was exempt from that duty. Instead she simply turned back to finish a few more details on the painting and guard her Y-Wing from errant mechanics until launch.
Kieran laughed as the mechanics jumped to work, inwardly. Not that he’d let anyone else see that he found it hilarious, though he was a bit of a figure on the ship for being a hard ass. That was mainly the trainings fault. It was well known that a lot of SpecForce recruits washed out, and while most of them still wore being accepted as a badge of honour many people still saw him as a hard ass and if it got results, he didn’t need to contradict them. As he approached the guard at the door he stopped and spoke to one of the guards. “Get all the pilots some caf, I want them to be alert and attentive.” He nodded. “Yes sir” and then walked off in the opposite direction to Kieran.