Chapter 2: Replacement Pilots
Captain Bern Munsoon, a stern faced man of fifty-seven, with graying hair and deep set eyes, waited impatiently in the main hangar bay of the star cruiser NRS Freedom for the shuttle bearing his new pilots and mechanic, which was already half an hour late. "I'll be having a talk with the pilot," He said to himself as he checked his wrist chronometer yet again.
Behind him in the main hangar were four battered and scarred x-wings which two droids were busy looking over. Munsoon had ordered the droids not to attempt any repairs on the new fighters until the new mechanic arrived to give his assessment.
Finally the landing lights to his right came to life signaling that a craft of some kind had just received clearance to land. He straightened up, and ran his hand over his uniform to make sure no wrinkles had amassed since he had put it on.
What started as a small white dot in space, turned quickly into the shape of a large Lambda-class shuttle. The same kind of shuttle had been used by the Empire before their defeat nearly ten years ago.
The sleek, white ship passed through the magnetic shield that separated the contents of the hangar, from the vacuum of space. It hovered on repulsor lifts for a few seconds before settling down just feet away from Captain Munsoon.
The shuttle powered down and the entry ramp underneath the cockpit slowly lowered. Four beings dressed in the orange jumpsuits worn by the New Republic x-wing pilots stepped off and saluted Captain Munsoon.
Munsoon returned the salute then took in the new pilots. "You must be Mardrid," He said to the first. Kris Mardrid was a tall human, about five inches taller than Munsoon with a tan complexion, black hair cut dangerously close to his skull, and a black goatee around his lips.
"Yes sir," Mardrid said.
"You'll be replacing one of our best pilots, Klein Talor."
"Thank you sir," Mardrid said. "It'll be an honor flying as your wingman."
"Quit kissing my ass, son," Munsoon said. "You won't be flying on my wing. I moved Lt. Wie'Tesk from two flight up to my wing after our last mission. You'll be flying as Loser six on Lt. Slugtira's wing."
Munsoon stepped away from the silent Mardrid and stood before the next pilot. This one was a male rodian, with green skin and two large, bulging, black eyes. Even for a rodian this pilot was very short.
"Name!" Munsoon demanded.
"Fffff….Fliiii…Flight Offffff…icer Hui, sir" The rodian stuttered.
"What's the matter son?" Munsoon asked. "Are you scared of me?"
"Nnnnno sir," Hui replied. "I jjjjj…just get excittttted."
"You're going to need to fix that stutter before next week Hui. You'll be flying wing for Lt. Securra." Munsoon said.
The next pilot was of a species Munsoon had never seen. He stood six feet tall with a thin, insect-like body, and four arms. His head rested atop a very long neck and was adorned with two snake-like slits for nostrils, and two enormous black eyes.
"Name!" Munsoon said again.
"Flight Officer Zekkert," the strange alien said.
"I don't believe I've ever come across a walking stick before," The captain said. "Where did you come from?"
"Troiken," Zekkert said. "The planet Troiken, sir. I'm not a walking stick. I'm a xexto."
"And I'm a Corellian." Munsoon said. "You'll be flying wing for Lt. Welbo in two flight. Your call sign is now Loser eight."
Finally Munsoon rounded on the fourth pilot. He was nearly as tall as Mardrid, with dark blue skin, two large black eyes and a dozen or more long tentacles hanging behind his head like hair. "Kromi?" Munsoon asked.
The Natuolan nodded. "Yes sir!" Obi Kromi said.
"You'll be flying in one flight with me, however, you'll be LT. Hierogryph's wingman." Munsoon explained before stepping back to talk to all four pilots.
"Now let's get one thing clear right now," He said in a raised voice. "This isn't Rogue Sqaudron, or Wraith Squadron. Hell this isn't even Mynock Squadron. This is Loser Squadron. People don't apply for this squadron like the others. If you study the history of our squadron you'll see that we have the highest combat death percentage of any squadron in the Republic."
"Now don't let that little fact freak you out. Every death that has occurred in this squadron, as tragic as it is, is a result of a personal mistake or a conscious decision on that pilot's part. If you fly with a clear head, and learn from your other pilots, you'll be fine."
"Now if you will follow me," Munsoon said. I'll take you to meet the rest of the squadron."
The four pilots followed the old man through the hangar towards the group of x-wings where several other pilots were at work.
"LOSERS1" Munsoon shouted and all seven pilots looked up from their work. "We've got new pilots."
Most of the pilots who were atop their fighters climbed down and moved towards the new group. "Which one's mine?" a blue-skinned twi'lek female asked in a sultry voice.
"Hui this is Lieutenant Secura," Munsoon said.
Tiff moved forward gracefully and extended her hand to the young rodian. "You can call me Tiff honey," she said.
Dallo Hui struggled to get words out and eventually fainted and fell backwards. The veteran pilots all laughed as Mardrid and Obi helped Dallo Hui to his feet.
"That's enough Lieutenant," Munsoon said though his face was much softer now.
"Sorry Cap," Tiff said with a smile. "A girl's got to have her fun."
"Alright, alright," Munsoon said as the male pilots wolf whistled. "Welbo, Secura, Lerch, and Slugs stay here. The rest of you get back to work."
The four rookie pilots and their new wingmen stayed while the others left the area. The rookie looked over at the casual demeanor of the others nervously. At the same time each of the veteran pilots were thinking of good jokes to use later about the rookies "fresh out of training" attitudes.
"Hui you met Tiff already," Munsoon said. "Tiff take him and show him around, but be nice."
"Oh I will," Tiff joked and grabbed Dallo Hui by the arm and took him away towards the other end of the Hangar. As they walked away Munsoon sighed as he saw Tiff lay her head on the rodian's shoulder in another attempt to tease him.
"Slugs this is Kris Mardird," as Munsoon spoke a large grey skinned Ithorian stepped forward. "Take him to the simulators and make sure Tiff doesn't give that kid too hard a time."
"Come on," The Ithorian said in a deep, gutteral voice. The Ithorian and Mardrid walked off together in the direction that Tiff and Dallo had gone.
"Welbo, you and Lerch take these two to the lounge and introduce them to the others," Munsoon said. "I need to go see what's taking our new mechanic." Munsoon turned on his heel and walked off towards the shuttle several meters away.
Tyrol Welbo and Lerch Hierogyph, a short statured snivvian looked at each other then at Zekkert and Obi Kromi.
"Well grab your bags and let's go," Welbo said.
The two rookies picked up their bags and walked towards the nearest turbo lift with their new wingmen.
"You guys fresh from the academy?" Lerch asked.
"Yes, sir," Zekkert said timidly.
"Cut that crap out," Lerch said. "We're all Losers. No sirs or ma'ams. I'm Lerch and this is Welbo."
"The more formal you are," Welbo added. "The more the others are going to pick on you."
"Sorry about that," Obi said. "We are fresh from the academy like you said. They kind of drill that in your head there."
"Yeah we all went through the same deal," Welbo said. "Some of us went through the Imperial Academy some of us went through the Republic Academy. We all came here with that immaculate military bearing. Once we got here and found out how laid back it is, we dropped it pretty quick."
The turbo lift stopped and the four pilots stepped off and walked down the hall towards the recreational lounge.
"You're running a little slow this morning," Munsoon said to the female mechanic busy unloading her gear from the shuttle.
"Sorry sir," she said. She turned and offered a quick salute. Her name was Aleina Hornedo. Her dark pink skin identified her as a zeltron, a species known mostly for their ability to manipulate the opposite sex via pheromones secreted from their skin. "We ran into some mechanical issues halfway here. I don't know who your last mechanic was, but he did a piss poor job on this tin can."
"Which is why we got a hold of your superiors and had you transferred here," Munsoon replied. "Your old CO tells me you're the best. I'm going to be asking you to prove it almost every day. Keep my birds flying and we wont have any problems."
"Very good sir," Aleina said, though in truth she was barely listening as she rumage through a crate of tools. "I also have those new astro droids you requested onboard." She tucked a loose strand of blue hair behind her ear and tossed a small case to the Captain.
Munsoon opened the case and found five new droid restraining bolt controllers inside. "Thank you," he said. "Before you get started I have two assistants you might need to meet.
The pink skinned women looked up and raised an eyebrow. "Assistants?"
Munsoon nodded and shouted across the hangar deck, "ARBY! GOOSE! Get over here!"
Aleina watched as two droids came towards her. The first was a short bipedal droid with two eyes set atop his metal body. "This is Goose," Munsoon explained. The droid said nothing.
"He's quiet now, but he'll be a handful later. Just make sure you inventory your tools before locking up at night." The other droid said. The smaller droid waved a mechanical hand at the taller one and said something in a strange dialect of clicks and beeps. Aleina interpretted the smaller droid's mood as angry.
"This is Arby," Munsoon said. Arby was taller than Goose. Rather than a regular body, the repair droid had large platform that ran on treads with several arms with various attachments and two large photoreceptor eyes mounted on a tall stalk.
"Their very ornery, but they get the job done," Munsoon explained. "Now as soon as your unloading, how about you come on up to the lounge and meet the pilots."