Log:First Order/Resistance: Respect, Trust, and Doubt

Fuze and Nym meet face to face

OOC Date: April 22, 2016
Location: Sullust
Participants: Fuze, Nym Landala

While Nym had the reign of the skies for a glorious little while, the telltale whoosh of the TIE fighters herald the arrival of more to the party. After giving what ground support she can, Red 2 swings upward, away from the others, hoping to draw of the attackers as best she can. If they're busy engaging her, they won't worry about the Resistance fighters on the ground. That's - at least - the plan. As such, she pushes upward, trying to keep herself an enticing target while still keeping out of firing range.

"Okay Artie," she tells the droid behind her. "This is where things start to get tricky." Her eyes narrow on one of the TIE fighters, recognizing the markings. "Oh hell," she mutters to herself. Then, she smirks. "Looks like we've got a rematch on our hands, Artie."

Spotting the red X-wing with its characteristic markings, Fuze almost cries out in delight. "Yes! You're mine!" she hisses happily, driving the throttles forward to their stops, the TIE leaping forwards towards Nym's ship. This time she isn't impetuous, and waits for the X-wing to get into range, waiting for the missile lock. Zig and zag as Nym might, there's no shaking the TIE fighter. Beebeebee...beeeeeeeeeep, the missile lock warning goes off in both cockpits simultaneously...and still she doesn't fire. It's as though Fuze wants the X-wing pilot to know she could fire if she wanted, but chooses not to.

And then it happens. Perhaps Nym zigs as Fuze zags. Perhaps some minor mechanical or electrical malfunction in either ship causes a slight but sudden acceleration or deceleration. However it happens, it's disastrous, for the TIE hits the X-wing from behind, one wing driving into the X-wing engines sending debris into them, the bubble cockpit crashing over the X-foils in a rending tearing of metal. Locked together, the two ships tumble until the slipstream tears them apart, but by then the TIE fighter, at least, is unflyable. "Eject! Eject! Eject!" yells Fuze, grabbing the red and yellow striped handle and yanking it hard. Both pilot and gunner eject simultaneously, their parachutes blossoming out as they tumble and sway down towards Sullust's surface.

Artie is less than pleased at the idea of a rematch. There's a lot of stern messages on her screen from the droid, beeping coming through the headset. "I know this isn't about revenge! Or a grudge that's not--!" Then, Artie's beeps become far more distressed, to the point. "A lock?!" The young pilot does the more rookie thing, not trusting her instruments, craning her head to try and get a physical view on the TIE fighter through the wind screen. "Why aren't they pulling the trigger!?"

With a renewed sense of energy and fear, Nym yanks the stick down and to the up, attempting to zigzag should the TIE pilot decide to pull the trigger. She's unsure of why she hasn't yet. Unbeknownst to her, it's the exact wrong move. The edge of her wing clips the TIE fighter and they careen downward. "ARTIE!" Nym yanks at the stick, frantically attempting to free the ship from the other ship, but it seems impossible. "Get out! Alert the others!"

Hopelessly turned around in the tumble and confusion of the crash, Nym pulls the eject once they're within atmosphere. The parachute billows out while still carrying the young pilot toward the ground at quite a clip. With a woompf of displaced air and impact, Nym collapses onto the ground, the parachute atop her.

It's windy, and Fuze and her gunner are drifting apart; the rookie's eyes are wide as, struggling against her canopy, she drifts over a lava outcrop and disappears from sight. But Fuze works with her 'chute rather than against it, watching calmly as the ground rushes up to meet her and she rolls with the impact, coming up and hitting the harness release, grabbing the shrouds and collapsing the billowing parachute. Survival training is simple - in hostile territory, bundle up the 'chute quickly so it can't be seen from the air. That accomplished, she stuffs it under a lava outcrop and peers cautiously around. She glimpsed the X-wing's pilot eject in the tumbling confusion of the wreck; they must be thataway. Drawing her service sidearm, she sets off in that direction, moving at a steady clip. She /wants/ that pilot.

As for Yvie and Artie, in the tumble, it's hard to see where her droid may have landed. First, though, the pilot starts to climb out and fold up the parachute. It can both come in handy as well as should be returned to the Resistance if she can help it. She doesn't have much survival training and she also doesn't have much resources on the ground. Rolling the parachute up as best as she can, she stumbles and tries to get a good look at her surroundings. "Artie?" she hisses, trying to get the droids attention if he's nearby. Otherwise it seems that she's alone on the ground with a TIE fighter pilot around somewhere. She draws her own blaster, trying to keep herself hidden without moving too far from where she landed. She knows she has far less experience on the ground than in the air.

Fuze has discarded her bulky helmet; it was just dead weight, and with the electrics disconnected serves no useful purpose. Her radio crackles uselessly, it must have been damaged in the confusion, and she attempts briefly to contact her gunner but then gives it up. She has a survival beacon, but oddly she doesn't activate it. Not yet. Then she's crawling up the side of a lava outcrop, trying not to dislodge rocks, to get a better view from the top. She crawls towards the edge to look down into the next valley.

Nym finally pushes the rest of the parachute into some outcroppings in order to keep it hidden. Her own uniform is not really doing her any favors. Neon orange and white doesn't exactly blend on any planet except for maybe the neon of Coruscant or if she were attempting to hide in molten lava. Though she knows that, she also is unaware that she may essentially be hunted at the moment. Cautiously, she starts to look around. Trying her best to keep quiet, she moves through the forest, looking for a good place to check in and hunker down for rescue. She's not getting off this planet without a pick up. Maybe if she finds where the wreckage is, she can use that as a position for the others.

The outcrop that Fuze is currently on looks like a good place to start that search and Nym starts that way, picking her way through rocks as stealthily as she can.

Neon orange and white. Fuze must be temporarily blind as a bat, for she sees nothing as Nym makes her way up the slope towards her. Indeed, Nym must almost be at the top of the slope when Fuze, having determined there is nothing moving on the rocky outcrop, stands up. Right there on the ridgeline, silhouetted against the stars, an ominous figure clad all in black. "Sonofa..." she mutters.

Nym climbs upward, mostly intent on not falling then seeing what exactly is ahead of her. However, before she's at the top, she sees the ominous form against the night sky. It was the movement of Fuze standing up that drew attention to herself. The young pilot takes a quick inhale of breath, quickly stopping and moving to whatever form of cover she may be able to find. The blaster remains out, pointed at the silhouette. "Hold it right there!" she calls out. Her voice is young, feminine, attempting at an authority she doesn't quite feel. Behind the stick of an X-Wing, she's cocky. On the ground? She feels out of her depth.

Fuze whirls, eyes widening in the darkness. "Who's there?!" In the air, she's cocky. On the ground, she's still cocky. That's the difference between them. "This area is under First Order control. Who are you? Identify yourself!" Then, because she's no fool, she starts to move down off the ridgeline, inwardly cursing herself that she made such a rookie mistake. She's generally approaching Nym, but still hasn't spotted the Resistance pilot. Her blaster is held loosely in her hand, pointing down; it's plausible that this might be an outlying FO patrol, and she doesn't want to provoke a friendly fire incident if she can help it. On the other hand, this is where the X-wing pilot went down...

"I said stay where you are." Nym takes another steadying breath. She knows that she's alone down here. The Resistance has its hands full with the rescue mission. Hopefully she will be able to be rescued when the extraction is called in, but she doesn't know how long that will be. While Fuze may have the benefit of others, she only has her own wits and - hopefully - a plucky droid out there somewhere. "I know whose territory this is. Drop your blaster." Perhaps this is still a First Order soldier taking precautions.

FZ-4792 doesn't stop until she is well below the ridgeline, taking the risk that her adversary won't shoot her down in the interim. Then she bends, carefully setting the blaster down on the rocky ground, straightening up. "My designation is FZ-4792 and my assignment is to the Finalizer. Identify yourself!" she repeats, starting to relax. It sure does sound like a First Order soldier. And then, as she has relinquished her blaster, she catches sight of the neon orange flightsuit. "Oh..." she whispers, and lets loose an obscenity. She slowly raises her hands in a gesture of surrender, peering into the darkness to see her adversary better. Then, just to make her feelings very clear, "Crap."

Nym isn't the type to shoot someone in cold blood. Not one that seems to be cooperating. Her hands are shaking a little, but she's doing her best to hide it. This is the first time she's come face to face with a member of the First Order. That is, face to face without a ships between her and the others. Once Fuze drops the blaster, Nym slowly steps out of her hiding place. The bright orange flight suit becomes all the more pronounced against the lava rocks. The Resistance pilot is short, young, one hand clearly pointing the blaster at Fuze. The other is clenched into a fist. Taking a moment, she studies the other woman. "Yeah, I guess this is kind of a 'crap' sort of situation. Where's your gunner?"

Fuze is getting control over her breathing, which was starting to run away with itself there for a moment. She takes a deep breath through her nose and exhales it through her mouth as she thinks rapidly. Then her eyes widen at the implication of the flight suit and the question about the gunner. She stares incredulously, "Wait...you.../you're/ the pilot of the red X-wing?" Then Fuze makes a comment that must go down in history as one of the crassest ever comments made by a captive to her captor: "But you're only a girl!"

Despite the situation and the fact that she's stranded on a lava planet, Nym can't help but give a bit of a smirk at Fuze's revelation as well as blushing just a bit. She can only imagine that Fuze was expecting a Poe Dameron type and instead got a 20 year old Nabooian. "I'm the Red X-Wing pilot. It's 1108, I'm surprised you think girls can't fly." It's a bit of a statement is a bit of a flippant one, as Fuze is also a woman. She knows that the First Order pilot was talking about her age. The young pilot is attempting to bravado her way out of this. Now that she has Fuze here and under her blaster, she has absolutely no idea what to do with her. "You must be the TIE Fighter pilot that I keep crossing paths with."

She glances a bit off the cropping. "Where's the rest of your Order?"

FZ-4792 continues to stare at the younger woman. "You shot me down over Felucia," she accuses, confirming her identity. She's off-balance at the revelation of Nym's age. "But I would've had you over Endor if that fight had lasted another sixty seconds," she adds defensively. "You fly really well, Red. Almost as well as me. And you got lucky over Felucia." She's arrogant. "Up there. Tonight. Why'd you break right as I came in from your right? You crashed into me!" Six of one and half a dozen of the other, to be honest. "I mean, I've done some damn fool stunts in my time but..." Her voice tails off. "So are you going to shoot me or what?"

"I did." Nym confirms. "And you might have." She's not about to agree to that just yet. Speculation and all. There's a bit of a raised eyebrow. A compliment from a TIE Fighter? What's this world coming to? "I misjudged. I was looking up." Then, she shakes her head, wondering why she's explaining herself. "You could have shot me down." There doesn't sound like there's a question there, but there's certainly curiosity in her voice. It was the panic and confusion that she hadn't yet that set her a bit off kilter. As for whether she's going to shoot her, the pilot shrugs her shoulders. "Not yet. But, I'm not about to trust you won't try to shoot me somehow."

FZ-4792's cocky arrogance seems to take it as read that she won't be shot down in cold blood. The Resistance don't usually do that sort of thing. The First Order does, but not the Resistance. She agrees quietly, "I could have shot you down but I didn't." But she doesn't seem to want to go there right now. Instead, she says quietly, "I'm FZ-4792, but my callsign's 'Fuze'. What's yours, Red?"

It's a good assumption. Even if shooting someone in cold blood was something the Resistance did, Nym isn't that kind of person. She debates for a moment, attempting to figure out how to take this turn of events. A First Order pilot that could have shot her down. Exchanging names. "Nym." She doesn't give a last name. "You're not far off with the call sign." She pauses. "Are you just stalling?"

FZ-4792 stares, before giving a short laugh. "Stalling? No. Are you? If I hear your friends coming up the hill, I'm going for the gun, fair warning. And then one of us is going to die," she says bluntly. "So, no, I'm not stalling." She tilts her head, watching the young X-wing pilot for a long moment of silence. "My gunner disappeared behind a ridge a few clicks thataway. She's probably hunkering down somewhere waiting to be picked up, and once they've picked her up they'll be heading this way." Cocky still. But realistic: "I don't imagine that'll happen until after the firefight is over, though. So, maybe at dawn. We've a while yet."

There's a blush at the laugh, a bit of a narrowing of the eyes. Nym frowns, unsure of whether she believes Fuze or not. Then, her shoulders slump a bit at the thought that her own transport may not be here until dawn. "No, I'm not stalling." Her eyes drift toward the ridge Fuze indicates before returning to the other pilot. "My droid's nearby." She hopes. That's all she says for any reinforcements. "Dawn." She sighs, the blaster lowers. While she's till wary of Fuze, holding a gun on her until dawn seems impractical. She also doesn't wish to be here when the First Order comes to pick Fuze up.

"So, what, you pick a direction, I pick a direction and we walk off without shooting each other?" She pauses, or they have a fire fight. She'd much prefer the vocalized option.

As Nym's gun is lowered, so does Fuze quickly stoop and pick her own gun up, but (assuming she isn't shot for doing so) she doesn't lift it towards Nym. She stares at the dimnuitive figure in the darkness. "Dammit. Join us, Nym. You can fly with us. You can fly in my squadron, hell, you could command your own squadron the way you fly. I'd have you lecture my pilots on how to fly, how to /really/ fly. You shot me down, Nym, hell, I said you were almost as good as me but in truth you're better. We need pilots like you. Join us, Nym. There'll be no repercussions for fighting us."

While Nym lowers her blaster, she does not holster it - she's not about to give the woman that amount of trust. They were, after all, attempting to shoot each other out of the sky not more than an hour ago. The offer is met with silence. "No," Nym replies, almost immediately. "I would never join the First Order." While there's no vitriol in her voice, there's certainly an edge - a surety. She pauses, watching Fuze. There's a prideful lift in her chin at being told she may be better than the squadron commander. "The First Order is out to control the galaxy, to put it under its thumb. You could come with us, be free of them. You're a leader, an amazing pilot. We could use someone of your talents."

"Of course we want to control the galaxy! The galaxy needs a firm grip, or there would be anarchy. Planet would be fighting planet. There would be wars and economies collapsing and famine and starvation and death!" Fuze clearly has the mantra memorized. "There needs to be control. The Republic have failed. Even now the Hutts are arming for war. If the Republic have failed, who is left? The First Order," she says proudly. "We're here to liberate and save you, and you fight us every inch of the way. Why?"

"Right now the galaxy isn't under a firm grip and the economy is not collapsing and there's not widespread famine and death." Not that she's seen, anyway. Nym has her own doctrine, though it's not one that has been aggressively memorized. "The galaxy doesn't need a firm grip, it needs freedom and the ability to make its own choices. The Republic hasn't failed." Her own words are spoken with a defensive pride. "And when the Republic is not strong enough, the Resistance will be there to help. We'll fight you every inch of the way because we are all different. And that's a good thing." She pauses. "And you must believe that to a certain extent. If you believed us all in the way of your vision, you would have shot me down tonight. You had the lock. I'd have tried to spiral out of it, but I'm not sure I could. You had me, but you spared me. Why?"

There's a long pause as Fuze considers the question. Finally she says quietly, "You shot me down in a fair fight over Felucia. I wanted to see you face to face, I wanted to look you in the eye." Some of the cockiness has gone from her, some of the wind is gone from her sails. "And now I don't know what to do. If General Hux were here he'd have me shoot you with my blaster." The blaster's still in her hand, but she makes no move to lift it. "I won't do that. You live in the sky. If you're going to die, it's there, in the sky. Not on some shitty piece of rock like this."

The confession that Fuze does not know what to do, Nym tenses. One of those options was definitely to shoot her. The TIE fighter pilot is quite correct - while Nym is good at evasive maneuvers in the sky, on the ground she's far less likely to survive an attack. "I mean, if you're asking for my advice, I'd say don't shoot me." Her voice is a bit higher, an edge of nervousness shining through. There's a relieved exhale as she's told that that's not what is going to happen. "You have to know that what the First Order is doing is wrong," she tells Fuze softly. "Now we've met, and I'm glad we have. You're too good a pilot to be helping them. Come with us," she reiterates. "You could lead a squadron in the Resistance, help us protect people."

FZ-4792 grimaces. "It's not wrong," she insists, but there's a note of desperation in her voice. "It's the right thing to do. It has to be." Or why would anyone do it, right? Her tongue moistens dry, chapped lips as she considers her dwindling options. "You're the one that's wrong. When you realize that, when you change your mind, you come looking for me, Nym. Aurek One, callsign Fuze." She draws a shuddering breath and expels it slowly. "Until then, Nym. Next time." And then she turns, and begins to climb back up to the crest of the outcrop.

"No, I'm not." While unsure of many things, Nym is sure of this one. "My offer is still out there, too. My call sign's Red 2." She waits for a little while, watching Fuze climb the outcropping. "Until then," she replies. Her words are not loud, but her voice carries. Then, she turns, moving back the way she came.