Welcome to Gaia! ::

" If you want to address as me as such, go ahead. After all, you did conquer me.. " Siren said seductively, teasing Calliga by sliding her hand down his chest as if to go under the sheets and caress something else. " A demonstration? ... Oh yes, that. " she started, sitting up in bed and stretching her arms. " As you wish, Master. " She got up and went over to the terminal, not bothering to get dressed.

After a moment, her attendent came on the other end, asking what was needed. " Come to my quarters, I suggest changing into something easily removed. You and I will be entertaining Master Calliga again as we did some time ago. " Smiling, the Twi'lek responded, " I'll be right there. " and the terminal cut off. Siren went back over to Calliga, sitting on the bed and positioning herself slightly behind him, her hands coming around to gently grab his shoulders.

She gently massaged him for a while, helping to relieve any aching. She wanted him to be pleased with her, already adjusting to her new role. After a while, the door sounded. She got up and let the Twi'lek in. " Alright, now lose the robe and take me. " The Twi'lek complied, the ony thing covering her falling to the floor. They then embraced in front of Calliga. Siren turned to him. " Master, if you have anything specific you wish to see us do, just say so. " She then turned back to her attendent, and they began to make out, caressing each other as they did.

" We're just warming up. " Siren said between kisses. Slowly, she led the Twi'lek to the bed, both of them groping each other until they were laying beside each other. Siren stopped using one of her hands and relocated it to the Twi'lek's lower region, teasing her lightly, causing her to moan softly. Soon after, Siren was given the same treatment. After a few moments, Siren stop the teasing and got more invasive with her movements, resulting in louder moans. The Twi'lek soon stopped and just layed back and accepted it, until Siren decided to get some of it for herself.

She sat up, getting on her knees, and brought her attendent's face close to hers, giving a few more passionate kisses, then gently urging her to lower down, hinting at at the Twi'lek to do a different kind of kissing somewhere else. After a moment of it, Siren started to moan softly herself, then gently nudged her attendent over, to lay back down again, and shifted position so they could both do it to each other.

“Right, meeting, one hour.” Aurora said as she picked herself up off the floor, the switch back to normal gravity was a welcome relief. “Roger that.” She checked her own wrist chrono against the one on the wall, confirming it’s synchronization to ships standard time. Collecting her things she exited the cargo bay, headed down the hall towards her room.

Entering her cabin she grabbed a robe from her things and reached out with the force, felling for the presence of life with in the bathroom she shared with the adjacent room. Finding none she entered and locked the opposite door before activating the sonic shower. Stepping out she dressed in the fresh robes and exited, unlocking the far door and locking hers. Checking the time once more she laid down on her bed, reading and making entries in the journal the Ritt had given her, before heading to the meeting.

The hour came far too soon for Ritt. Gathering up all his effects, he quickly headed to the cramped briefing room, which could barely fit a squadron in it. The tiny chairs were only 14 in number, seven per row, arranged with tiny desks and ports to plug into. The holoprojector doubled as a podium for Ritt, as he loaded up the various slideshows and necessities.

"In flames of death's eternal reign, we ride towards the fight. That's what every pilot has to do, Ritt. Get used to it. Through the fire and flames we carry on," Reverend said, standing in the doorway.

"You're five minutes early," Ritt stated, adjusting his glasses on his nose.

"And you're dressed up more than usual. Shades, Ritt? You trying to impress the new girl still? She knows you're a Miralukan by now. If the incident at the lift wasn't obvious enough, she'll find out as soon as you get into the cockpit," Reverend returned.

"Give it a rest," Ritt said, as the holoprojector turned on the first slide. "She's simply a charge of mine. I can't mess up around her, or else the councils will have another thing to complain to me about."

"I've looked in her file. No flight time, but she's a jedi. She'll pick it up fast enough," Reverend started.

"Some jedi abhor flying. Some of them fear combat so much they claim that flying is strictly for droids. It'd be nice to have each and every one of us jump into the cockpit, but there are those who stand upon the bridge because its the only place where they can truely not worry about being shot at. And then some interceptor crashes into them and they die in a blaze of fire."

"I'm the cooky philosopher and theologian here. Stop that incessant babble and get in gear. Your squadron needs a leader who isn't scared of anything. Afterall, you're the daredevil, flying blindfolded into battle. Pick up your red shirt, your brown pants, and become the leader you are," Reverend stated, sitting down in the first chair.

"As you wish," Ritt replied, his face becoming more like its jovial self. One by one, the pilots filed in, as he waited for Aurora in particular to arrive.
~~~~~~~

The droid unleashed its speed. Contrary to previous statements, it wasn't 20% faster than the previous one. It was 200%, so each blow came three times than what shisstal had first seen. Left, right, up down, it moved rhythmically, waiting until the apprentice had gotten used to the speed.

"Move faster, Shisstal. Your next opponent doesn't even use a lightsaber, and he's three times faster than this droid is. If you can't keep up, you die."

Checking the time once more Aurora closed her book, stood up from her bed and tucked the journal away in its pouch. She gathered a few things that she would need for the meeting before leaving her room. Walking out into the hall way she makes her way to the briefing room.

It wasn’t hard to find the briefing room, as other pilots were making their own way down the ships corridors as well. Falling into step behind them she fallowed them, and had timed herself perfectly to step through the hatchway as the ships chrono struck the appointed hour. She was by fare not the first to arrive nor was she the last as the remaining pilots filtered in through the door.

Finding the first empty chair she sat down and pulled out her journal, writing stylus and plugged her data pad into the desks ports.

"On time, that's good for a start," Ritt stated. He waited till everyone had settled down before blowing a buzzer. Several pilots jumped in their seats, as Ritt took notice.

"New face, female or not, this is still a breifing. We'll have time to interrogate her later, I'm sure. Our first duty being the Jedi's Privateers is striking a convoy. Shocking, I know," he announced, as the room dimmed and the local maps of the galaxy appeared.

"We are currently sitting right around here. We're too obvious if we stick around a planet and jump a crew there, so we've been given a nice Gravity Well Generator to do the job for us. We'll be intercepting along the main spine as our first attack. If that doesn't wake the sith up quick enough, they're dumber than a Rancor. Recently, this new warlord has been taking over other territories on his own like he owned the place, and even the Tett leaders are wary, so something tells me we're not dealing with numbers to provide us with a challenge anymore."

The scene flipped to holographic projections of the various ships in a representation of what was to go down. "Very simple, the ships will drop out of hyperspace. We only need six fighters for this mission, so Even numbered Pilots will go, led by Reverend, and Pagan will be the compliment. Aurora, you're 11, so you're on the odd numbered crew if it ever comes up. There shouldn't be any fighter escort, and all you fighters need to do is make sure the convoy doens't try to flee while we deal with capital ship combat. The fighters have been retrofitted with ion cannons so that should be all you need to stop any annoying headstrong freighters. There are about thirty of them, so that gives the six of you five to look out for. Fighters will be dealt with by launching Bam and Butts, if worse comes to worse. That being said, no battle plan ever survives first contact, so this is possible to change."

The hologram turned off. "The operation will begin in roughly two hours, which is more than plenty of time for the next part of this briefing. Aurora, define Anzati, Mother, Chicks, Winchester, Bogey. Bonus if you can do Playmate, Heads Up, Grandslam, and Fox."

"Seems we have a nice xenologist in our midst," Wishmaster said filled with derision.

"I'm surprized you even know that word, Rico," Ritt responded back, with several chuckes in back due to a long outstanding joke. "Aurora, Anzati is a hostile anti-ship missle which has been fired. Sort of a hostile fox, so to speak. But I only gave you your journal today, so it's fine. So, as I'm the only one who's formally introduced myself, we'll play an Icebreaker. Rev?"

The first seat held the Fondorian, as he stood up. "Samuel Caiaphas of Fondor. Call sign, Reverend. Number two of the unnamed squadron. Got the name because I give Ritt introspective guidance."

Rico didn't stand up. "Rico Alvarean, Corellian, Callsign Wishmaster. Number three. Got the name because I've granted wishes before. You can try me out anytime."

"Snuff it," the red-head next to him snorted. "Angus Zarleb. Number four gun, callsign Predator. I'm called that because I don't let anything get away, and also have the most kills per mission than any other person on the squad, short of Force Monkeys."

Angus nudged the person beside him, a rather quiet dull man with a soft voice, "Nai’van Tench... Chalactan... number 5... callsign Butts."

"We originally called him that as a joke. But Nai here's an avid smoker too, so it's got a dual meaning," Angus reported, in leiu of the Chalactan's subservience.

"Nee Hanalan, a Lorridan. Number 6, callsign Mimic. Racial discrimination."

"Unlu Bhu. Sorrusian. Number 7. Bam's the callsign. Pleasure to meet you."

"Yun Janico, natural born Coruscanti. Number 8, callsign sadly Nerfherder. So watch your insults, otherwise you might end up throwing me into a tizzy."

"Zap Stardust, hot Corellian. Number 9, callsign Pagan, but you can call me by 'my god'. I'm also in the room across from yours," the next spoke up.

"And that's why he's called Pagan. Don't frighten the poor girl. Now she'll lock her doors and the rest of us will have you to blame for that," Angus replied.

"Corellians have to stick together, but all's fair in love and war. Just be thankful he isnt your roommate," Rico snapped up.

"Uldan?" Ritt asked. The man in the back of the room shrugged. "You don't have to tell much."

"You're quieter than Nai. We should have called you stealth instead of Wasted," Unlu stated.

Angus reached over to Aurora and whispered, "His last name is Tallant. He's never really had much of a sense of humor though."

"That leaves us with you, Aurora. What are we going to call you?" Ritt inquired.

"It's just something to start thinking about. Let us hope you don't get stuck with something rather annoying, like Nai or Uldan's. Though we are still the only squadron to date without a name either. We go by numbers simply because nobody has been able to decide that. But let us hope we get a new recruit sometime soon so the deadlock can continue," Ritt said, as the first of the pilots took their cue to get prepared for the upcoming flight.

"Aurora, how many hours in the simulator have you completed? I may use the upcoming battle to familiarize you with real time radar and other systems, despite regulation stating otherwise."