Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Jordan Bednarz, Christopher Fulk, Nate Lentz, Christopher Levy, Justin Maher, and Jaina Roberts.
Zero years before the Battle of Yavin (35:2:8) in the Yavin system: Argo and Yavin 4 (Great Temple).

Commander Derek Atio, Sergeant Reilly Judah, Flight Lieutenant Sarn Kielt, Trooper Jace Mereel, Trooper Shawn Veldn, and Lieutenant Riak Wheeler.


Well it only took the better part of a day, but Jace had managed to piece together a pretty decent DLT-20A. He had searched the entire ship and outpost for as many of the rifles as he could find. After that he took the best parts of each and made him self a 'decent' little rifle. The Empire was horrible, but at least they had real equipment. Jace figured they would never win this war and he would just be another dead fly on the wall. Strapping the rifle over his right shoulder he made his way from the fifth deck toward the bridge. Time to check in to see if he would be given any assignments today. He was in full uniform the rank of trooper showing on his shoulders, which were a bit bulky due to the blast vest under the uniform. Other than the holster at his right thigh with his own personal DL-18 he had his cargo belt with it's various supplies.

Commander Atio stepped out of the turbolift and walked down the narrow corridor of the ship, quite pleased with himself. He relished any opportunity to perform any maintenance work on the ship, and it put a spring in his step. His attention focused from that of the ship to that of Trooper Mereel, surprised to see him in this area. "Trooper," he said with a sharp nod, before stepping past him to move towards the operations station. He hunched over the panels, his hands moving feverously over the sensor controls as he booted the system up. He watched over the display cautiously, and felt pleasantly relieved when he started to receive sensor data. It would seems the repairs had been successful, but of course they would been to be practically tested. He then turned and looked to the man once again. "We should be ready to deploy again," he said happily, but wondered why he was 'pleased' at the thought of returning to battle.

As the captain spoke to him he came to a halt and to attention quickly. Throwing a quick salute Jace switched the rifle over to his left shoulder. He took a quick glance around the bridge out of curiosity before he brought his attention back to the captain. Hearing the captain talking about deploying again brought a small flash of a smile across his lips. "Reporting for duty, sir."

Coming to a halt near the grounded corvette, his eyes scanned someone or at least a boarding ramp. Perhaps Shawn Veldn was on the wrong side of the ship. Hearing the sounds of various tools and equipment being used, he brought his attention to the top of the ship to see the workers repairing certain elements of the ship. Maybe to enhance the ship or replacing hold parts with new. All he knew was that this was the beginning of an adventure that he would either survive or fail. Either way he still did not know where to enter the ship from.

The comm panel on the corvette's operation panel beeped loudly forcing his attention from Trooper Mereel back to the terminal. "Excuse me," he said politely before turning moving to the station. Turning on the display the image of a Rebel Officer flickered into view, looking grim and forlorn. "Commander," the officer began with a downtrodden voice, "One of our Y-wings has gone down in the jungle. We need to get a recovery team out there. It's in dense terrain and we cannot send a shuttle to recover the two man crew. Prep your unit." Before the Commander could even reply the view screen flickered off and the coordinates to the down crashed site were transferred to the ship's database. His glance shifted to Lieutenant Wheeler in the flight controller's seat. "Mister Wheeler," prep for takeoff, "then proceed to those coordinates." He then moved away to his command chair and turned to Trooper Mereel. "Get ready for a rope drop," he ordered, "And see if you can find anyone else to help." He then nodded to the Trooper and sent him on his way.

Excitement was an understatement. This was his first real-world mission. The rookie Lieutenant's cobalt blue eyes narrowed towards the displays in front of him, eye-hand coordination immediately attenuating. Firm hands gripped the controls, fingers flexing with the nervous apprehension of a subordinate hoping to impress his superior for the first time of many...he hoped. Right hand dashed to the control panel next to him, immediately punching the command for klaxons to blare around the vessel, so that any random crew/ground crew surrounding the Argo would clear the well for the imminent repulsor fires. His left hand snapped to the opposing station, bringing the main power for the engines and repulsors from standby to active...the audible hum/hiss of the entire vessel springing to life...Wheeler glanced to the

Commander, voice calling out at a professional clip...steady, despite the tension that roiled within him. "Commander, 90 Seconds until liftoff. Starboard boarding ramps are still down- leave them down for the rope crews, or raise them so that we can make better time by a higher orbit?"

After the captain gave him his orders he began a brisk walk out of the bridge. He did not really know who he could find to help hopefully he would run into someone on his way down to the armory. That is where he would find the repel rope and equipment he was sure he would need. He had already had a good idea of what the captain had in mind to save these two stranded pilots.

Commander Atio swung back in his chair as he turned to Lieutenant Wheeler. "They'll descend through the hangar," he informed him in an instructing tone, his attention shifted focus between the various bridge officers as they made ready for their rescue mission. "Take us up, Mister Wheeler," he ordered with a sharp nod of his head, "Keep us as close to the canopy." He was nervous about the new pilot. He had never been on a mission with him before, and he had just only a half hour earlier supervised putting most of the ship back together. But, this was a rescue op, and he would have to bring them as close to the treetops as possible.

Wheeler acknowledged the order by retracting the portside boarding ramps, used only moments early for the processing of additional supplies onto the Argo. The last minute mission had come as a surprise to many, but it was exactly what Wheeler was dying for. A chance to 'stretch the legs', so to speak. Foot pedals were worked gingerly, to correct any wind/yaw of the vessel, as repulsors were engaged to bring the vessel into vertical lift. The Argo shuddered slightly as Wheeler throttled forward, not wanting to seem too 'hotshot' for his superior. He wanted to impress the man, yes. But at the same time, risking the lives of the entire crew over a few seconds was not in his playbook.

Wheeler's head oscillated back and forth in fifteen-degree movements, from the left and right control stations. Finally, the vessel was brought to the equivalent of several hundred kilometers per hour above sea level, flashing only meters above the treetops below. Wheeler elected not to engage the NOP automated altitude control, instead allowing the controls to remain tightly in his grip. Forearms flexed beneath the sleeves of his utility uniform, as Wheeler struggled to keep the vessel on a direct course to the beacon.

Jace had just made his way into the armory and gave quick instructions to the man to get him the repel equipment he was going to need. He still had no idea on where he was going to find 'help' as the commander ordered him to do. As soon as the man returned with the rope and equipment the trooper began a quick walk toward the bunks to see if there was another commando about.

In the distance of the jungle a small fire began to appear on horizon, burning some of the lush jungle terrain. Atio sat forward on his chair in anticipation as the corvette drew closer and closer. "That has to be it," he said, stating the obvious conclusion that everyone had the bridge had already arrived at moments ago. The vessel slowed as it relied entirely on its repulsorlift engines to hover above the Y-wing's crash site, one final blast of its maneuvering engines flaring to move them directly over the target. Alarm klaxons sounded throughout the hangar bay as the two massive doors separated, slowly receding into the deck of the ship to reveal the fiery crash site below. The crew held the Argo in a stationary position above the wreck, steady enough to allow an experienced Rebel operative to make a rope descent to the surface.

"Like propelling down Doaba Guerfel" She told herself and the trooper who had strapped her to the rope. After giving the thumbs up, the hatched opened and Reilly bounded out of the corvette. The breeze was exhilarating. Before long her booted feet hit the surface hard. Knees bent to allow for the force of the landing. The d-clip was unhooked and she turned toward the debris. "Well I'll be a Wookiee's uncle..." Removing her comlink, she called back to the Argo. "Argo, rescue one. On ground. First survey shows minimal damage to cockpit. Moving forward." Which she did. Backpack was slung from behind to the ground in front of her as she paused a few meters from the crash. "Argo, rescue one. No sign of pilot. Entering the ship."

Slumped down and unconscious inside of the craft was its Shistavanen pilot, Sarn Kielt. The large alien's helmet was cracked and blood was visibly tricking over the left side of his face. There had been a failure in his right pontoon's stabilizer that sent the craft hurdling towards the planet's surface. It had been a miracle he had survived the initial impact, but the jet fuel was in the process of being superheated, and it would not take long for it to combust.

"Why don't Jawas fly?" Reilly shook her head while checking the pilot's vitals. The large pilot would be difficult to move. "Argo, rescue one. Wishbone is heating. Pilot's alive. Need assist in getting the big guy out a' here." She began to undo the pilot from his couch, catching him as he slumped forward. Initial scans showed internal injuries. "Okay fuzzy, let's get you out of here. I hate the smell of fried fur." Even after asking for assistance, she knew it was up to her to drag the pilot out of the ship before they both blew up. With several grunts she began to drag the pilot toward the opened hatch.

Commander Atio had made his way down to the hangar bay to supervise the retrieval, leaving Lieutenant Wheeler in command on the bridge. Activating the comlink, his calm voice tried to stay reassuring. "Rescue one. Attach the rope to the downed pilot and hang on ... we'll you both up," he said, improvising given the temperature the starfighter's fuel must have been out. Looking to Trooper Mereel he shrugged, raising his eye brows and extending his arms, not entirely sure this was going to work.

"Great help." That was said to herself, obviously, all that was there was her and a big knocked out fuzz. By the time she got back to the rope, she was covered in sweat. After wiping her brow, she attached the rope to both herself and the knocked out pilot. "Copy Argo. Ready for retrieval." She tugged on the rope and checked again that her patient was secured.

"This is going to work," Derek said confidently to Jace as he activated the controls for the winch. The rusty old device began to spin, coiling the rope around the metal bar and slower than planned it began to raise the downed pilot and the medic. Looking down through the open hangar bay, he monitored their progress visually, rather than relying on the inaccurate data provided by the terminal. "Hang on!" he shouted down to them, no longer feeling the need to use the comlink to communicate.

"Got little other choice. Thank you for the obvious, sir." She looked up into the ship and smirked. The commander had a way of always stating the obvious. Right hand left the rope and reached for the secure bar. The feeling of that metal even through her gloves was a relief. "Grab him. Careful. Not sure of all the internal injur..." The explosion below cut her off. With new found energy she scuttled onto the deck, wincing at the loud noise and increase in heat coming from planetside. "Corellian luck still  holding out. Thank the force." With a smirk, she looked up at those gathered and then began first aid to the pilot. "Let's get him to the med bay."

Derek grimaced as the Y-wing on the planet's surface blew up, shielding his eyes from the temporary brightness. "That was too close..." he observed as he flashed a quick glance over towards Sergeant Judah. He slammed his hand down upon the large, red button that controlled the hangar bay doors. The same loud klaxon began to flare again as the doors began to close, protecting them from the erupting flames below. "Wheeler ... get us out of here," he shouted through the comlink as he moved to assist the Sergeant. "Figures," he said to her with a snicker, "I know this guy!"

"Well, let me get to doing what I do best so you can continue to know him." The pilot was floated into the med bay. Reilly closed the door behind her, hoping everyone would get the hint and began diagnosing her patient along with the med droid.

That was not the first time Derek had a door slammed in his face by a woman, nor would it be the last. He stood there silent for a moment before letting out an annoyed laugh and meandered his way back towards the bridge. This had merely been a diversion, and soon they would have to depart on a mission of greater importance that he needed to prepare for.

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