"Captain Holden!"
The captain in question stopped when he heard a familiar aged voice calling his name, stepping to the side of the narrow warship hallway to look to the source behind him. It wasn't much of a search as he immediately found the older warrior, in his immaculate officer's uniform.
Half the older man's face was nothing but mangled scarring and old burn, the eye on that side a pale dead white. The man was a former naval captain from the clone wars, having survived his command bridge being targeted by enemy fire during said war nearly twenty years ago now.
"Headed for the briefing now sir?" Captain Holden made sure to give the older warrior a crisp salute as the man caught up to him.
"Might as well start it now. it will only be the five of us anyway." He returned the salute as crisply, not missing a step.
"Five, sir?" that number confused him, as he was used to doing briefings with the entire fighter wing's command staff. Being stationed on a salvaged venator class star destroyer meant there were a dozen squadrons on the ship. He slipped into step with the Admiral as the man passed him.
"Yes. You're going to be in charge of this operation. And it's only going to be the four of you."
"Uh… sir? Four birds is what you would send on a recon or light strike mission. What kind of op is this?" It was rare for just four fighters to do anything, even in his time in the Corellian Security force. Especially given the number of operational craft on the ship at the moment.
"Kid, quit trying to guess. It isn't going to help you. And it isn't four fighters, I'm only giving you two fighters and an old Sojourner class freighter. This mission isn't going to be like your normal ops. You've been pulled in by higher to lead a special assignment."
"Uhhh sir, I don't know if you've noticed but I'm a fighter jock, not sure how much use I'll be outside of that." He rubbed the back of his head, a sort of nervous lurch running through his gut that he couldn't quite put a word to.
"You were Corellian security. I know for a fact you are not just a fighter jock." The Admiral smirked at him as they stepped past another bulkhead.
"Eh, I mostly did air and space patrols. What's the mission?"
"Long story short, your going to an imperial held star system and you will be working to remove the imperial forces there."
"Uh, excuse me sir?! You're expecting me to take four pilots and liberate an entire system!?" The captain stopped in astonishment, a pair of soldiers passing between them.
"No, your being sent to form a new cell and disrupt imperial operations. You can do this Holden." The Admiral gave him a soft, almost proud smile.
The captain let out a small sigh as his eyes dropped to his feet for a moment. It was certainly a big task to consider, but given rebel cells had been started by less, with less, he felt at least a small measure of confidence in being able to pull a mission like this off. "Alright, who are these three people I'll be working with?"
"Hmph, that was a quick turnaround. You already know one of them. Lieutenant Madelyn Stodel. She'll be your second in command for this, and wingman. I'm sure you'll appreciate the friendly face." The Admiral resumed their course as he spoke.
"I know what she's capable of at least. Can't say I actually know her personally all that well."
"Fair. Second, I have a ground pounder from the 'Nexu' task force."
Mentioning of Task Force Nexu immediately piqued Captain Holden's attention, as it was considered the most elite ground unit the rebellion had. It was a closely guarded secret, just knowledge of the unit's existence being rare in and of itself. Holden only had direct knowledge of it because of his squadron providing air support for them.
"His name's Staff Sergeant Roy. Not much of a background in his file, recommendations for commendations as long as my leg, despite being in the alliance for only a couple years now. of course, his ops are all redacted to high heaven." The Admiral continued on his own as they made the turn for one of the briefing rooms off the main flight deck.
"Sounds like he'll be useful. Who's number three?"
"Support staff. Tech specialist Kyra Hollis, from here on the Courageous."
"Name doesn't ring a bell sir."
"She's the sole reason most of the squadrons are at ninety percent operationality or more. only had her for a little over two years, already looking at putting her in charge of all of maintenance. Well, before this came up." He gave a light shrug, a small amount of annoyance detectable in his voice.
"Damn, that's quite the resume to have sir." Most squadrons operated with only half to two thirds of their fighters operational at any given time, between regular maintenance and battle damage.
"You wouldn't suspect it meeting her. Speaking of, time to say hello." He spoke as the pair came to a stop outside the door for one of the briefing rooms, the Admiral gesturing at the door.
Holden took the cue and tapped the button beside the door, stepping in as soon as the door opened. He was met with a booming call to attention, loud enough that he thought at least a dozen people had shouted. It turned out to be just one.
The shouted voice in question belonged to a human male, clothed in camouflaged combat fatigues, the loose-fitting clothing hiding his slim build. He was standing from one of the chairs in the back of the room, in a crisp near perfect salute. His dark blue eyes were also fixed to the wall directly ahead of him, not an emotion to be discerned in his stance. The only thing on him that did not seem to be ripped straight from regulation was his messy dirty blonde hair, just long enough to be sticking what ever direction it seemed to want to.
The other two occupants of the room had also jumped to attention at his, and the Admiral's for that matter, entrance. The one he recognized from his squadron was giving the most half assed salute he had ever seen, being no more than a quick finger tap to her eyebrow, one hand on her hip.
"Hey cappie!" she chirped that out when she dropped her salute, a small smirk on her face. She had generally soft features, though her build was lithe and fit. She had been a dancer, of all things, before joining the alliance. She got into the flight program by shear natural talent and some formal flying lessons in corporate tugs. She had her shoulder blade length black hair in a ponytail, draped over her shoulder. Meanwhile, her sharp and wild green eyes were focused entirely on Holden, their normal twinkle as present as always.
"Don't call me that Lieutenant." He snapped that back at her, more out of habit than anything.
"Always will Cappie!"
"Damn it you two, drop the salutes, it's just the five of us." The Admiral followed up, his words bringing Holden's attention to the last occupant of the room.
If it wasn't for the small flicker of motion from her dropping her salute, Holden would have never noticed her. She was at least seven or so inches smaller than himself, wearing floppy grease stained grey overall's, unzipped to her waistline with the sleeves tied around her waist. This left her lighter grey tank top visible, as well as her lightly tanned skin, also covered in grease stains. By her build, she certainly didn't look like a capable mechanic, being about average weighted and with really no defined muscle tone. Her very soft featured face was almost hidden behind what could only be described as an explosion of frizzed, yet lush appearing dark brown hair, likely falling down to her waist line if it wasn't up in a loose bun at the moment. Her deep blue eyes gave him pause for a moment though, realizing he had seen her around the hanger on several occasions. Heck, he even had faint memories of short conversations with her about his X-Wing's condition.
How could she be so easily forgettable looking like that though?
"Damn it, Staff Sergeant, I told you to relax!" the Admiral snapped again, flicking his own lazy salute back to the other male in the room, who merely dropped his salute and slipped from the position of attention to a crisp parade rest instead, feet shoulder width apart, hands clasped at the small of his back and eyes forward. It was like seeing the soldier straight from the basic training manual.
"Alright, better. As you all know, I'm Admiral Harris, and as you might have guessed by now, this is not a random meeting. The four of you have been selected to start a new rebel cell in the Strion system. As such, the four of you are now the first members of the Strion cell." As the Admiral spoke, he brought up the system in question on the room's holo-projector. Eight planets and hundreds of moons popped to life in an instant, slowly spinning around the space above the projector.
"Strion has a relatively heavy imperial presence for it's population, at only fifty-two million across the system, it has nearly a dozen star destroyers in system. We think it's some sort of imperial strong point, but we don't have enough actionable intel on the system to justify the forces needed to take that on. Hence, you four." He gestured at the group, his expression almost unreadable.
"Uh, I don't know about you, but I don't want to take on a dozen destroyers with two pilots, a ground pounder, and tech. The hell kind of suicide mission are you sending us on?" Stodel spoke up as she approached the holo-projector, her attention on the Admiral.
"Not a suicidal one, I hope. Long story short, only two destroyers ever leave the vicinity of the sixth planet. It's a lifeless rock, so they are definitely guarding something there. As far as habitable worlds, the system has three. The moons Thacarro and Raygoro above the gas giant, Strion Five, and the planet Strion four. Strion Four is a nitrogen-oxygen garden world. Most of the population in the system is there. Focuses are on light industry and mineral processing. Thacarro and Raygoro are both mining colonies and not much else."
"That still doesn't change four of us versus a dozen destroyers!"
"No. but that's why you are going to start your own rebel strike force, from the local population. Each of you has been assigned to this mission because you have the skills needed to pull that off. Staff Sergeant Roy here has the ground combat expertise to train fighters on the ground as well as lead precision strike ops, Lieutenant Stodel here has more than enough flight time and missions under her belt to train new pilots as well as preform deep strike missions under extreme combat conditions, as well as Captain Holden here, who also brings I would say a rare skill of being able to see the big picture and co-ordinate a large scale engagement. He's already proven himself leading the remnants of the fighter wing back to the Courageous three months ago."
"What does smalls here bring to the table then?" Stodel jerked her thumb back toward where the smaller woman was, who shied away at the mentioning of her.
"She's the best technician I've ever seen on this ship. She can keep you fighters running under almost any conditions and will be vital in building your fighter compliment. During her in-process testing, she also showed some level of skill in splicing into imperial terminals."
"Do we have any assets beyond ourselves?" the Staff Sergeant finally broke his silence, startling Holden slightly as he hadn't even heard him approach the projector.
"One old Sojourner class freighter beat to hell, but she flies. Two X-wings, two old Z-74 speeder bikes. Rations and munitions to last the four of you a few months at least. Beyond immediate supplies, we have a single lightly manned C-R-Ninety in system. It's laying low for the moment, but they have a small survey post set up on Thacarro, in the mountains. Both are assets you will have in system, but only if you absolutely need them."
"heavy munitions?"
"Twenty-four spare proton torpedoes. No heavy ground."
"When's the fun begin sir?" the Staff Sergeants responses were all short and sharp, like a well-oiled machine.
"You have six hours before lift. Your fighters and the Sojourner are next door."
"What are we waiting for then sir?"
The Admiral rolled his eyes at the grunt, his focus shifting back to the group. "Any other questions?"
Holden shook his head, glancing at the others to see similar responses.
"Alright. Collect any personal belongings and get settled on your new ship. It's going to be your home for a while. Dismissed." With that, the Admiral spun on his heel and left through the door they entered through, leaving Captain Holden alone with the trio of his now subordinates.
"I'll get my gear on the ship and start running pre-flights on it sir." The Staff Sergeant spoke almost as soon as the door had closed behind the Admiral.
"Alright… you do that. Stodel, I guess grab your gear. Same goes for you Hollis. No rush guys. We'll hash out the flight details later." The trio all nodded before splitting off from the projector.
"Well… let's see what we have to work with…" he muttered that to himself as he began to manipulate the projector, running through all of the information the terminal had on the Strion system.
"Hey Roy, wait up!" the quiet, meek voice of Tech Specialist Hollis didn't even echo in the empty corridor.
"Need something Hollis?" he brought his feet to a stop as he tossed that over his shoulder, not even facing her to speak. Knowing she had joined the Alliance brought a sour taste to his mouth. As much as he wanted to know she was safe and well, he had no desire to see her ever again. Being a member of militaristic faction also meant she was far from safe.
It's not a life she deserves… Not after what I did to her…. he could feel tears wanting to well up in his eyes, pulling on every ounce of discipline and training he could muster to prevent tears from flowing.
"Well… is that how you greet an old friend?" she sounded pained and pleading with him. Of course, he found that quite understandable, given everything she had already been through.
"I'm not someone you should count as a friend. The hell are you even doing here Kyra?" he finally spun to face her, affixing his questioning gaze to her. Just seeing her again was bringing up dozens of memories, many of which were ones he was trying to forget.
"Well… I thought I would sign up after our little… adventure on that station. Beat's drifting around barely scrapping by." She had a faint smile on her face and a hopeful undertone to her voice.
"I told you not to. You froze up just seeing a blaster. What makes you think being a soldier was a good idea?" he snarked at her, letting a slight aggravated tone slip into his voice.
"Well, I'm not a soldier. I'm a mechanic." She snapped that back, a smirk on her face.
"A mechanic serving on a warship, about to be sent on a special ops mission, in an enemy controlled system. Yeah, staying real far from the fight there Kyra. Just be careful." He let out a small sigh as he turned away from her, wanting to focus on getting his gear from the cabin he'd been slapped into upon arrival.
"Y-yeah. Of course." Her voice almost dropped out, her footsteps following him a few moments later.
"What are you doing?" he glanced at her as she came abreast with him, confused as to why she would be following him.
"Well, my room's the same direction for the moment. Nothing wrong with walking together, right?" she sounded about as sure of herself as a snowball in a magma tube, biting her lip as she spoke.
"I guess." Roy shrugged, not really caring if he was honest. With their conversation finished, silence fell between the pair, leaving Roy to let himself be lost in his memories, Kyra likely doing the same.
He did his absolute best to not look her way, as anytime he spared her even a glance, he got flashes of memories vivid enough that he wanted to vomit. The smell of ozone and burnt metal, mixing with that of seared flesh. The feeling of his own breath cast back in his face by a full-face helmet, the searing pain of his overheating blaster. And a series of faces he would never forget, no matter how much time passed.
His eyes betrayed him as he glanced her way as they walked, all of those memorized sensations combining upon sight of her. Not that she would ever have known as she walked along the hall, eyes at her feet as though lost in thought.
I will not make that day my only legacy. Even if it takes my whole life to re-tip the scale… he unconsciously let out a sigh as he focused his attention forward, trying to shove her and those memories from his mind.
Madelyn stretched as she approached the briefing room she had been in hours ago now, knowing her captain well enough to know that he was still there. He had a habit of reviewing every ounce of data available on a mission to an almost insane degree. Of course, that was a habit that had saved her life in the past, so she wasn't one to complain about it.
When she arrived at the door, she immediately pressed the door switch and stepped through, finding the Captain still at the holo projector, over a dozen reports displayed on it as well as the local system map. He didn't look up when she entered, not even noticing that the door had been opened. She calmly walked up beside him, a small smirk on her face. "You're still in here? We got about an hour before launch?"
Madelyn watched the Captain jump when she spoke, letting out a small laugh at his startle. He was only a little taller than herself, clean shaven and crisply built, like the people the empire would use for their recruitment ads. With his short and perfectly trimmed military cut black hair and soft brown eyes to complete the look, he probably had no trouble with the ladies. Madelyn herself could attest to that fact, as she had thought he was rather handsome since she met him. Luckily for her, she didn't go for looks alone. He didn't need to know that though.
"Well, yeah, I guess. Just trying to start formulating some sort of plan. Most I've got so far is just ideas for getting the locals with us. To be honest, I need more information before we even try anything." He let out a small sigh, his focus returning to the projector after looking to her for a mere moment.
"Yeah, and we can do that once we're there goof." She plopped onto the holo-projector with a smirk, her body distorting the hologram. "I've already got your stuff on the ship for ya."
"The hell? How did you get into my room!?" he had an eyebrow raised as he crossed his arms at her.
"Howie let me in."
"Of course he did. Alright, where's my flight suit?" he shook his head, a small sigh slipping from him.
"Packed away. The Redeemer's got two docking ports so we just gotta park on it after takeoff, then Smalls has the rest of the flight in the bag Garrett."
"Smalls eh?" he was raising his eyebrow at her again, a slight smirk on his face. He was her first captain to not have problems with her casual attitude in conversations and was one of the reasons she liked having him as her squadron leader.
"O'course. She's small, she needs a nickname, so she's Smalls." She shrugged at her explanation, it being simply what she was used to doing by now. Of course, she had yet to figure out a nickname for Holden yet.
"Well, thanks for getting my stuff moved. Are you ready to go?" he turned the projector off, disconnecting the data pad it had been displaying data from when he did so.
"Yeah! Whenever you are!" she chirped back, smiling to him.
"What about the other two?"
"Well, the ground pounder was ready like thirty minutes after the admiral left. He had like two duffle bags and an assault pack. Dude travels light. The tech took a bit, but she didn't really have much either. She's the one who told me the ship was ready to launch."
"Alright then. Let's get out there."
"Wait… one question" she stopped him before he could get more than a step away from the projector, biting her lip.
"Uh, yeah?"
"What are the odds that we can actually pull this off?" she spoke with a slight pang in her gut, unable to not show her nervousness, her usual carefree attitude disappearing for a moment.
"Well, optimistically? Absolutely abysmal. But we should have never made it back from that nebula if odds were ever accurate." Holden smirked at her.
"Fair. Well, let's fly!" she hopped off the projector, following him out of the room.