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Of course. Xaver was worried about survival, being in "pilot mode." He'd fogotten the sheer size of the Nebula.

And he was right. It was a damn big nebula. They could hide there for quite a while, enough time to fix the hyperdrive and then some.

But still, it made Xaver uncomfortable. "Copy that." Pulling on the yoke, Xaver spun the ship around, heading back into the Nebula.

The ships slid into the nebula easily out of reach of the enemies guns and quickly found the Resolve. Within moments of the ship's arrival a trio of small tugs dropped from the Resolve's hangar bay and moved toward the modular conveyor. Briskly they grabbed hold of one of the Modules filled with hyperdrive coolant and lifted it into the Hangar Bay.

"Mynock 2 to leader, I guess I'll just be sitting tight here while the tug crews get this stuff." He glanced up and frowned as the trio of tugs returned lugging a module a different color from the one they took. "Dock control, whats with the new can?"

"This is dock control, we're replacing the hyperdrive coolant modules with empty Bacta cans. Orders of the captain."

"Roger control."

* * *

"Docking control reports that they exchange is going as scheduled." The executive officer of the bridge stepped up to the Captain. "Here's the file you requested."

"Thank you," Captain Pala answered as she took the datapad from him and started to look it over. "Yes, I think this will do. Select a member of the ship's militia with a supply officer background and inform engineering I have need of someone to falsify a ship registry."

"Yes sir, may I ask where you're going?"

"The brig." Pala answered with a slight smile.

After the last of the four modular containers had been swapped there was a bump from the Resolve locking its tractor beams on the conveyor. A moment later Mynock 2's comm link crackled, "This is Flight control to Mynocks, come on home. We're taking the conveyor into tow as we head into the nebula so shut her down over there and head back to the bay."

"Roger control." Mynock 2 commed the stormtroopers aboard, "We've been given orders to pack up, so lets get too it." He began shutting down the ship's systems for tow and headed back to the stormtrooper transport to prep for departure.

* * *

Captain Pala stepped out of the lift into the ship's brig. Nodding to the guard on duty, one of the ship's militia, she headed down the corridor to the one occupied cell. Fingering the pistol on her hip she stepped inside and glared at the smuggler within.

Cracking his knuckles, the good doctor himself was begun to work on the pilots, repairing them up and getting them ready. While the majority of the staff was working on engineering crew, he'd be sewing up everyone else. His back hurt, his shoulders hurt, his neck was stiff and his jaw ached from the clentched teeth. He read the report, filed by the interns. She was propped up on her side, the weapon of mass hemmorage protruding from her side.

"Broken nose, broken hand, laceration to the jaw, minor stab wounds, and of course, a knife in the side. You're not going to look pretty for a while," he said to himself, chuckling. Taking out his vibroscalpel, he made an incision around the knife, cutting out the small barbs with expert care. The small anthesthetic around her nose kept it safe, but just in case, he had tied her down to limit movement. Millimeter by millimeter, he pecked out small bits of tissue and muscle, as he increased the air pressure, to prevent the lung from puncturing in case it was snagged. He had hoped that would not be the case; those things got real annoying fast.

Slowly, the knife came out, and made a loud clang with the metal basin, sopped in blood. A hyposyringe filled with anticeptin and local went into the wound, as he cauterized and sewed up the wound again, layer by muscle layer. Slapping a bacta patch on the wound, he twisted the body onto it's back, as the wound from pelvis to collarbone was given a good bit of glue and smoothed over.

The hand presented it's own set of problems, as it was fractured and split open. A small hyposyringe prepped with bonemer sat beside four brothers, also filled, as he went about cutting the skin open. A small set of foreceps wiggled tiny cracks together, as bonemer paste covered the crack, settling in. Gauze, anticeptin-d, and narcomist covered a small plasto-cast.

"Now for your face," he said, pulling out a small bacta tab, underneath the lip to repair the damage. Pulling the mask off and turning the anesthetic off, Davro's small, nimble hands danced across Harrington's face, popping the cartilage back into place. Loud cracks echoed over the room, as he set a small splint over the bridge of her nose, taped down. He fed an IV into her arm, as the nurse attendant helped him lift the halfbreed onto a gurney.

"Hook her up to a comaren/pleezer drip. 2 mils an hour. She doesn't need any more than that. Pilot or not, there are other people in more pain." Davro ordered, attaching the small datapad of the officer Cassey Harrington onto the bed.

"Let's roll the next one in. A one Aana Koth... Eesh. Burns. I hate burns. Sticky messes. Tell first shift they're allowed to get some rest, too. They're allowed three hours, I suggest they use it."

((Might as well get the retraining started since I'm waiting on Des to show for the Kolto plot))

The flight control officer stepped into the room, "Hello Mynocks, the captain is busy at the moment so I'll be doing your debrief. It seems that you accomplished the mission and seized a modular conveyor carrying hyperdrive coolant. I saw the hangar load team pumping the coolant into the stores from those cans on the way here. What sort of resistance did you encounter?"

"Good, the other squadrons reported that the Sinmara arrived as you left as well. Good thing it hadn't shown up earlier." The Flight Control Officer rubbed his head. "The Captain has put in orders that all pilots are to be cross-trained to fly all the craft at our disposal, and she's reorganized the squadrons to use all the pilots we've got left. Your unit will be bumped up in strength to a six pilots, if you've got any requests for the pilot you should probably make them now."

"Mynock four will remain in the squadron, she'll be off flight duty for awhile." The Flight Officer turned rather red when he began to talk about the ship assignments, "Well, all starfighters are going to be pooled together and divvied out on missions, including the XG-1s. Each squadron with experience with the craft will be training the others how to fly it. All I can say about the starfighters is that if you need Skiprays or XG-1s they'll be assigned to you for a mission. In a scramble situation it'll be first come first serve so to speak." He shrugged, "Not the most elegant arrangement, but its what we've got to do down to thirty pilots half of which are in the med bay and you got to make some compromises."

He glanced at the datapad, "Well, if there's no objections the sixth member of Mynock Squadron will be Tahk Duron. He's a bit green but you should be able to make good use of him. In the meantime I've put together a training schedule for the pilot wings. The one pilot we got whose qualified to fly the skipray blastboats is going to be teaching the first session. The captain was rather eager to get their firepower out on the field of battle."