Log:The Antilles Method of Performing Miracles
The Antilles Method of Performing Miracles
OOC Date: May 27, 2018
Location: Pilot's Pit Lounge, RAF Renegade
Participants: David Ironside, Karas Darkwing, Dawn Antilles
The number of deaths on their side from the last naval battle is staggering.
Not that she was involved, though that is understandable. A relatively fresh face among the ranks of the Resistance's newest recruits, it will take a few weeks more or something drastic to integrate her into the circle of trust that Operations tends to require, though considering the number of casualties, it'd probably be the latter than the former. She is no mind-reader and she is utterly devoid of any mystical talent to divine the future - but the last few years have cultivated and developed her skills in some manner of foresight, and she already knows what is coming before she even gets any sort of communication from the man who heads the Resistance's navy. All that is left is to make it official.
They are worries that can be tabled for just a little bit longer. Presently, she remains in the Lounge, quietly looking through a variety of documents downloaded on her datapad, representing months of catch up that she will need to digest before she can declare herself 'fully operational.'
She is a delicate creature, with dark hair and large green eyes, presently dressed in her civilian wear. There is a uniform waiting for her and if anything, it would be a return to something that feels more normal for her. Lips purse as long fingers tick through the data, brows drawn down in thoughtful consideration. For now, she is grateful for the work - for many reasons other than the obvious.
---
Coming into the pit, Karas is wearing his red flight suit. Stretching a bit and letting out a yawn, the dark skinned pilot looks to be waking up, "Patrols are killing me...." he grumbles as he makes it to the bar and gets a fizzy drink to help wake him up. Rubbing the back of his head as he looks around, he notices a new face. "Hello." he says as he looks to the new recruit.
---
"Patrols are killing you?" David spins on his bar stool, peering over at Karas. "You want to do paperwork all day? I'll fly your shift just like that." He's holding a beer, clearly awake longer than Karas. The man himself is not wearing a flightsuit, instead dressed in the uniform of a pilot, his rank proudly displayed on his chest by way of a badge. He raises the glass briefly to the latest recruit. "Antilles." he adds, curtly.
---
Her choice of libations today are distinctly non-alcoholic; there is a mug of tea in front of her, wisps of steam curling up from the top, and should the tender behind the counter be given a look, all the droid can really do is shrug. Still, she is not unfriendly and the grin the new recruit flashes Karas is all unfettered starfire. "Hi," she replies. "Looks like a long day, I'm surprised you're here instead of collapsing face-first in the nearest cushion. I know that's where I'd be, at least."
She is perched on one of the barstools at the counter, and at the very end; a position that often implies a reluctance to socialize, though one wouldn't know it from the look of her when she easily engages another in conversation. The datapad lowers, before those long, pale fingers lift up her mug, cradling it with both hands to take a quiet sip. Half-in, half-out, those evergreen irises turn inward yet again, mulling over what she has just read...up until the intonation of her name, which has her focusing on the other pilot at the bar. The rank pin is noted immediately, it stands out as brazenly as the red flight suit that Karas is wearing, but the name...
"...Ironside, yes?" Lips turn up in a rueful smile. "Forgive me, I'm still learning other people's names. Easier to remember if I've worked with them before but if not..." She gestures between the other two. "There's only so much help files can give."
---
Narrowing his eyes at David, "Nope! It's mine!" he says to David. He looks to Dawn and chuckles, "Nah, I'm just waking up, I will be fine and I agree with this guy." he gives shifty eyes at David who knows he's joking. Upon seeing the recruit and David saying her name, he blinks. "Whoa, what. Your last name is Antilles?" he asks quickly. "Sorry, I'm Lieutenant Karas Darkwing, CO of Blue Squadron." he says to Dawn. "Are you by any chance related to Wedge Antilles?" he asks Dawn.
---
"Thought so." David grins, peering at his wristcomm, then at Dawn. "Ironside, yes. Gold Leader's fine too. Or Lieutenant. Good to have you here." He reaches over the bar to get a small remote, pressing a few buttons until soft bluesy music starts playing. He puts the remote back behind the bar, nodding at Dawn before he takes a sip of his beer. Clearly his shift has just ended, and he's just winding down now.
---
A former fighter pilot appears in the Pilot Pit, well...'former'. The Renegade's CO, as it were. For once, he's not trailed by a perpetually annoyed looking aide, and he's not carrying a datapad full of paperwork. He just appears to be on a bit of a walkabout, and casually strolls up to the bar. An R4 droid rolling around the lounge lets out a very angry sounding bleat when it spots Gren, and comes spinning over, clearly cursing out the senior officer in Binary for what seems like a full minute, or so. Good times.
---
The last name tends to do that, though if there is any self-consciousness or embarrassment regarding the mention of her (much more) famous relative, there's nary a trace of it on Dawn's pale mien. The grin on her lips tilts towards a more sheepish bent. "CO of Blue Squadron, huh? I'm about to disappoint you already. I call him Uncle, but I'm no ace. You're looking at the lone chicken in a flock of eagles." That isn't to say that she didn't harbor the Dream, of soaring with the rest of her relatives who decided to live up to the name, once upon a time, but it was beyond her from the moment she was born. Still, she flashes Karas a wink. "Nice to meet you, though. I hope chickens and eagles can still be friends."
David's welcome has her smile tempering some, though the sound of the Blues has her attention tilting to the box the moment it starts. Appreciation settles on her pale features in a languid sheath, though she picks up the datapad. "Thanks. Hopefully I'll earn the regard, sooner rather than later. It's-- "
Whatever else she has to say fades at the sudden burst of angry binary on the other side of the room, and she turns her head towards where Gren is being accosted by one of the bar droids.
---
"See, I knew I knew that droid." David stands briefly to greet Gren, letting him return to being berated by Late. Glancing back over to Dawn, he grins. "It was Uncle Wedge that got us this ship, actually. Are you in touch with him at all?" Putting a hand to his mouth, he stage-whispers "It's the chicken hawks you need to be wary of, us eagles are fine."
---
"Easy, Late. It was this or a core wipe...or I could have you repurposed into a wastebasket....do you want to re-think your tone?" Gren purses his lips at the R4, and gives it a moment to consider his words. A final annoyed sounding blat, and it rolls off to do some work around the lounge. Delede approaches the pair of pilots and their junior officer companion, returning David's greeting with a nod. "Leftenants." A simple word turned into a neutral greeting from the man. "I take that you're doing a proper job of greeting our newest arrival?"
---
The grin from Ironside gets one in return from Dawn. "He mentioned something like that the last I talked to him, admittedly that was a month ago or so once he found out I joined up. He was kind enough to ferry me out of a hospital, so that's the last time I actually saw him. With my new designation though, he's never gonna believe me whenever I tell him I'm there to see him and not because there's a huge problem I need advice on. He's enjoying retirement well enough, but I think he worries. Constantly." A fact that isn't at all surprising, to anyone who ever knew him.
She takes another quiet sip of her tea, and the stage-whisper earns David a laugh. "The chicken hawks!" she gasps dramatically. "I /knew/ those bastards can't be trusted! With those impeccable hunter's instincts and tasty free range eggs!"
Though all joking fades immediately the moment Gren steps up to the vicinity of the two pilots and herself. While the smile eases from its brilliance, she does dip her head in a respectful angle. "Sir."
---
"Proper enough, sir." David replies, still with a hint of a grin. "That reminds me.." he says, turning back to Dawn. "Uniform's ready. Time to get out of the civvies and into proper attire." His beer empty, he pushes it to the bartender and fishes a datapad out of his jacket. When he activates the near-transparent screen, immediately text starts scrolling on it, and his eyes flit around to read everything as it passes.
---
"I'll see you bright and early on the Bridge, Leftenant Antilles. We've got some work to do for a coming operation." Gren states with a smile for Dawn, before nodding to the datapad reading Dave. "Enjoy your off-duty time, people." And, then the brass is whisking off to bother some other junior officers somewhere, leaving as abruptly as he arrived.
---
Karas seems to wake up, though he blinks when Dawn states she calls Wedge her uncle, still he smiles. "That is still cool that your related to him." he says honestly. "Glad to have you aboard and yes David is correct your uncle did help us with this ship. He is also a hero of mine and why I became a fighter pilot." he says to her. "Though we all do what we can to help the Resistance." he states.
---
"Thanks," Dawn replies to Ironside, relief on her expression and evident in her tone. "It'd be a relief to get in one of those again. Had no idea how I was going to adjust to civilian life having to actually color-coordinate my clothes day in and out." After a moment, she squints at the pilot in an exaggerated fashion. "Wait, are you the requisitions officer too? Or the resident fashion designer? Should that be a new tagline? David Ironside: Gold Leader, Lieutenant and Intergalactic Man of Many Talents."
She's clearly jesting; mischief glimmers from those virid irises, though Gren's following words has her easing away from her cheerful mood, gravitating unerringly to the talk of business. "Yes, sir. Bright and early." Not just an affirmation, but a promise, she has known nothing but most of her life. Though once the commander of their navy walks away, she can't help but follow the wake of his departure with a contemplative expression and a slightly surprised look, though whatever she may be thinking isn't stated out loud - for all of her outwardly gregarious demeanor, whatever she observes about the man, she keeps to herself.
The data within the tablet she is holding is proof enough of the fact. A finger taps absently on the screen, silently mulling over the promise of work. "Never too soon to plan, but hopefully there's enough time for a flawless execution," she murmurs.
Karas manages to break her out of that momentary reverie. Lifting her head, another smile is directed towards the other pilot's way. "He's always been a humble man," she remarks of her uncle. "I don't think he ever really adjusted to the attention he gets every time he walks in a room. I think sometimes he still views himself as 'that guy who flew stuff around Corellia'."
---
David laughs. "Quartermaster's just off the hangar, in the cargo bay. I saw a tag that said "Antilles", so I figured I'd let you know. I do like Intergalactic Man of Many Talents, though." Something Dawn said earlier only -now- registers with the lieutenant. "Did you say Wedge retired? You sure he didn't just tell you that as a joke?" Clearly very interested in the answer, he leans on the bar, watching Dawn.
---
A smirk plays on his lips as he looks to Dawn, though he's kicking himself a bit due to she probably gets that a lot. He nods his head a little, "Thats cool. Well I'm not going to keep peppering you with questions about him and honestly, I would like to see what your capable of." eh smiles. He sits down finally and sips his cold drink, looking over to where David is for a moment and he blinks and looks at Dawn, "He did?" he asks.
---
"Well, 'retired' in his definition of retirement, which means 'not really, but for him it might as well be a long-term vacation'," Dawn replies as she takes another sip of her tea. "He got tagged to be Chief Flight Instructor for a network of flight academies the New Republic set up, based in Hosnian Prime, so a lot of his responsibilities now are administration-based and it's probably driving him crazy. Honestly, the entire family was really surprised he accepted the appointment, but I think he actually really likes teaching the next generation of flyboys and girls. Got a girl now, too." There's a hint of a grin there, when she drops that tidbit about the current status of Wedge's love life.
Something about the mention of the Hosnian system dampens her mood slightly, though she averts her face at the thought of it, tilting it down so she can drink more of her tea. "He was off-planet when Starkiller base happened," she remarks, voice absent and quiet. "It was a really close call. We're really lucky we still have him at all." After a moment, she tilts her head back and laughs. "Man's got skills /and/ the luck of the devil. Hope it runs in the family, /I/ sure could use it if I'm gonna be spending most of my bridge time with Commander Delede."
---
"Hrm." David nods as she talks, equally soured at the mention of the Hosnian cataclysm. "He was lucky. Others.. not so much. You'll be happy to know he's leading Rogue Squadron again, somewhere on the other side of the galaxy." David doesn't actually mention why he hates what the First Order did, but apart from the obvious -don't blow up a whole system-, there's something deeper, more personal for him.
---
Hearing what Wedge has done, he nods more to himself than anyone else. "Well I'm glad he's still here with us and I do hope others were as lucky as he was." he says simply on that matter. That is still a hot spot for himself as well, looking bak to Dawn, "So you're an Naval Officer, looks like we will have you calling the shots from the Renegade when we are out there. We will make sure you all get out of battle safely." he smiles.
---
Happy that he's still alive to lead it, is what that delicate face reflects, but doesn't voice. For a moment, the look she flashes David at the news is utterly indescribable.
"Not at all surprised," Dawn grouses, finally. "I figured all of that would have driven him to action again." After a moment, she sighs, lifting fingers to pull through her dark hair, pinky snagging on an errant curl, tugging on it absently. "It's probably an unpopular opinion and stars know we need all help we can get these days, but my uncle...he's paid his dues a thousand times over. More than his fair share. Wish he'd let us younger folk take up the mantle while he got some well deserved rest, but that's not really the kind of man he is. He'd probably fly until he got so athritic, he can't grip a control stick and even /then/, that's not a guarantee."
The younger Antilles sounds exasperated; those expressive features don't hide it either, but genuine affection simmers there as well. Still, there's a sidelong glance at David, masculine profile soured at the thought of the Hosnian disaster, and while curiosity lingers within those evergreen irises, she doesn't pry.
Instead, Karas' words puts the laughter back in her expression. "Ahhh, the pressure!" She places a hand over her heart in a dramatic fashion. "Anyway, I wouldn't be doing my job well if I just let you guys take care of us. If anything, it's my job to make sure we win as often as we can and give you all as many chances to come back alive as possible." Propping her chin up with a hand, she angles her head towards both pilots, grinning faintly. "Hopefully I inherited the Antilles method of performing miracles."
---
David hops up off his bar stool. "Here's hoping!" he says. "'mean, you might not be calling the shots with the Admiral there, but you'll definitely be a great help to him." He nods for emphasis. "And of course Delede might just put you in charge so he can get back in a fighter, so there's that too." Clutching his datapad, he heads to the door. "Day's been long, I'm gonna catch some shuteye while I can. You two be good, stay out of trouble and all that."
