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Private Calm Before the Storm

Mylo Thorne

Guest
M
MESS HALL, CONCORD-CLASS STAR DEFENDER Reclaimer (TEMP ASSIGNMENT)
0700 HOURS

MEAL-TIME

REVENANT ELEVEN
Tags:
Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame



GADividerBlue.png
Today was busier than most days. Hustle and bustle accompanied chatter across the cavernous mess-hall, vents and all ran across the ceiling, giving the hall a sense of mechanical austereness. Around twenty long tables complete with benches lined the room, personell dotted around them, low, dim lighting setting a calm cantina-like ambience. A range of personnel with varying different roles mixed and matched around this time, usually enjoying a gossip, pilots and soldiers arguing over who had the most difficult role and vice versa with the naval crewbeings.

Mylo hadn't been here for long, but he had been here long enough to understand the workings of places such as these. It was just the same as in the Academy. The crew of the Reclaimer hadn't had any permanent assignments which might have fostered that distinct sense of boredom that many pilots and naval crew felt, especially during a war. Reports from the frontlines didn't help things either, the legend of the vile, murderous Brotherhood had grown greatly, especially among the Military who were still shaken from the attack on Coruscant.

Mylo sat and silently ate from a tray of subpar fried Endorian yip-tip, accompanied by a protein bar and a cup of blue milk. His table was nestled into a small corner, with flickering lighting. He tugged at his slightly baggy green jumpsuit, with his helmet sat on the table directly in front of his tray, the opening where his face would usually be seeming like it was staring at him. He recognised some notable figures off to his right on a table not too far from him as his squadronmates in Revenant. They talked as they ate, two B-Wing pilots whom shared an uncanny resemblance argued fiercly, a soldier clad in dirty, worn armour vainly attempting to diffuse the situation.

For the past few days he'd decided to eat alone. While he had met everyone and didn't consider himself a loner, he didn't believe he had earned the respect to eat with them, as if he'd been there since the start. And anyways, he sometimes enjoyed the relative solitude. Mylo ran a hand through his messy black hair, perhaps standing out slightly due to his fresh-faced youth. The Reclaimer had always been considered a ship for veterans.

It had been around a month or so since he'd stood into the main hall of the Flight Academy on Hosnian Prime, trying not to beam with pride as the Flight Commandant went droned the Passing Out speech and graduation honours in a monotone, slightly bored manner which was the subject of much ridicule amongst the Graduating Class. The Humbariner pilot forcefully reminded himself that this wasn't the Academy anymore. He kept his gaze on his squadron, being careful not to have them notice him too much.
 
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[ANV Reclaimer - Mess Hall]
[Revenant Ten]


She seemed out of place, when compared to the other pilots at least. Rather than equipping her own gunmetal gray flight suit, or even something more casual as a sizeable portion of the others had adopted, Qellene brought her duty uniform to the mess. Polished black boots clicked audibly and with a well-practiced rhythm at the hall's utilitarian flooring, further drawing attention toward her crisp muted-blue overcoat. Fatigued eyes remained from an hour-long meeting with the Reclaimer's senior staff; sixty long minutes of briefings on security, defense, and a number of topics that had since slipped through the cracks in her brain.

Now she just wanted rest, preferably preceded by a healthy meal. So with a tired groan, Qellene fell into a stride, meandering off toward the mess hall's desolate counter. But a shape in the corner of her eye stopped the lieutenant dead in her tracks. She recognized the other pilot from Three Flight- one of her newer subordinates courtesy of the Hosnian Prime Flight Academy. Intrigue brought to life the realization that Throne was sitting alone, though a comfortable distance from the rest of Revenant Squadron-- those who hadn't been requested for the briefing.

Qellene seemed to debate with herself for a few drawn-out seconds; it wasn't her business if anyone, even a subordinate, chose to sit alone. But these were dark times; the massacre at Coruscant, and the precedent it set that the Maw could strike from anywhere at any time, still lingered in the minds of the Alliance military. And... Everyone needed a friend, and pilots needed to learn to trust the others in their squadrons.

The feeling of weakness and hunger had all but left her mind by the time Qellene set a new course, still locked in that same march-like rhythm.


"Mornin', boys." The lieutenant put on a rather plain, unsurprised smirk as she passed Revenant Squadron's table, making no move to bat an eye toward a feud between two of One Flight's pilots. They hadn't diverted their gazes either.

She hadn't bothered to stop, nor ask for permission, before sliding into a seat in front of Mylo Thorne.
"Hey, kid," Qellene had taken a moment or two before speaking, coaxing her tone into something a notch more earnest and friendly, yet she made no move to verify that she didn't scare the new recruit. "A credit for your thoughts?"
 

Mylo Thorne

Guest
M
MESS HALL, ANV RECLAIMER
REVENANT ELEVEN
TAGS:
Qellene Tyliame Qellene Tyliame



GADividerBlue.png
In his peripherals, he spotted someone heading towards the squadron table. Turning his gaze to her, it took him a few seconds to put things together before he recognised her as Qellene Tyliame, the flight leader of Three Flight, which was composed purely of pilots who flew the REC-A101 A-Wing Interceptor. An eyebrow went up as he noticed she was in full dress uniform, and he could see a reflection in her meticulously polished boots. His fellow pilot stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of pilots in loose-fitting red, orange, blue, green and grey flightsuits all emblazoned with the sigil of the Galactic Alliance.

He caught her gaze for a moment, smiling briefly with a curt nod and munching quietly on his Yip-Tip. Locked in a quick, somewhat rythmic marching pace, her greeting of the rest of the Squadron seemed quick, though he understood her reluctance to get involved with the brewing conflict. Surprise was the first thing that came to mind on Qellen's approach to his table.

Taking a light swig of milk, he placed the cup down swiftly so he could properly adress his superior. "Afternoon Ma'am." The A-Wing pilot spoke in a more informal tone, though still kept the military rigor on his choice of words. It had been drillled in constantly in the Academy to always address a superior officer with the correct respect, and he wasn't about to let those standards slip. Impressions were everything and it was quite paramount that he make a good one.

Noting her more friendly disposition, he visibly relaxed as she spoke.

"A credit for your thoughts?"

"Just a bit tired. Was on patrol not too long ago." No pilot liked to flight Combat Patrol Duty but at the same time, no pilot could discount its effectiveness in keeping a ship safe. "Why aren't you sitting with the others?" He asked good-naturedly.
 
[ANV Reclaimer - Mess Hall]
[Revenant Ten]
Mylo Thorne


"Why aren't you sitting with the others?"

Qellene, at first, offered only a gentle smile; Flight Officer Thorne had seemed to relax significantly since the moment she sat down. A short sight of relief struck the lieutenant's own expression, knowing she hadn't frightened him too much. But now remained the question of responding to her subordinate without losing whatever respect Mylo even had for her.

"I can sit with them whenever I want. Regular attendance isn't mandatory," she spoke rather casually, quietly dreading the unprofessional inflection of each word, "But, hmm, If suppose I should ask you the same? If that's alright?"

Nervousness and bewilderment engulfed her eyes as a realization set in. Qellene was asking a subordinate for permission to ask... a question.
If Thorne still had any respect for her after that, she'd either be forced to ship him back off to the academy for retraining, or she'd have a new friend in Revenant Squadron.
 

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