Faction Long Night of Solace

[Wedge Draav]

SPACE OUTSIDE ORD PROVIDENCE.....

THE GRIEF GAVE WAY TO RAGE

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Two Days Prior....​

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Wedge stood over the caskets, the remains recovered from three pilots, and the six Alliance Naval Flight Lieutenants, freshly commissioned and in training. for some, it was what remains could be recovered, rather than what were. Space was finicky to recover anything, but Wedge insisted on it. Wedge stood over one of the caskets, breathing heavily. A junior crewman approached him, respectfully far from him in his moment of quiet contemplation.

Wedge had been out here to provide some pointers, and debrief them on some after-action reports. No flying, but classroom instruction and some simulation time, along with personal instruction to the three instructors. Flight Lieutenant Graves, Maaldar, and Lirian were all good pilots and were some of the better instructors in the Alliance. He breathed heavily, his grief replaced with anger, with rage, with a burning hot desire for revenge.

"Sir, the Captain asked me to clear the area. We're supposed to report back to the main fleet for debriefing and this area needs to be secured for Hyperspace travel-" Wedge stood up, running a hand through his hair. He stood tall, his flightsuit, green and decorated with some streamers, but only one patch- the patch of Revenant Squadron.

"Get me the Captain and tell him to call the Commander of 12th Fleet. I'm calling them in."

"Who, sir? We have orders to pull back and debrief the situation-" Wedge pivoted on the balls of his feet. Wedge Draav was a certified War Hero of the Alliance, with the tenacity, reputation, and accolades to prove it. He was after all, reportedly, and perhaps statistically, the best pilot in the Alliance. He stuck a single finger in the younger Naval man's face. Wedge had little patience for those that weren't willing to risk something, to fight, to perhaps even die. "You tell your Captain that Wedge fucking Draav told him that he is bringing Revenant Squadron in. Whoever did this, isn't getting away with it."

That was that. The younger man buckled, but understood finally Wedge's resolve. That, and he knew better to argue with the Commander of that squadron- and someone of superior rank. Wedge had a reputation for mouthing off to the entire Senate, and surprisingly, keeping his career. Wedge had a distaste for the higher commander, and the very thought that the Captain and Commanders here would run back to the higher echelons of Alliance just to avoid doing what they knew to do. There was a simple response to this attack on trainees and pilots in their own territory:

Kill 'em all.

Wedge took a seat on a nearby cargo crate, taking a deep breath, looking over the caskets. He'd make sure they all went home, wherever they needed to go. More importantly, he'd make sure whoever did this suffered. He crossed his arms, taking a deep breath. He needed his troops, he needed them now. His blue eyes, normally mischievous and full of that grit, turned more harsh, more cold. More ruthless. That side of Wedge was still there- the one that fought above Tython, Coruscant, everywhere in the galaxy. Wedge might have been a happy-go-lucky, puckish rogue, a card cheat, a gambler and a suave man to his one and only, but-

That killer sharp edge of his never went away. He was the deadliest pilot in the Alliance for a reason. And he was calling in the best to come back him up.

---

Present Day, 48 hours later....

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Wedge stood in the hangar bay. The Captain had relented, giving him an entire hangar, flight support, flight ops, refuel, everything they needed to conduct continuous operations. He pulled everyone from Revenant in. New, old, on leave, off-duty. The message was clear, simple, direct.

ALL REVENANT PILOTS REPORT TO THIS LOCATION IMMEDIATELY. IMMEDIATE TASKING. PRIORITY OVER ALL MISSIONS AND TASKINGS.

CAPTAIN DRAAV, COMMANDER, REVENANT SQUADRON.

As the X-wings and other ships came into view from the viewport, Wedge stood, already in his flight gear, next to his jet-black X-wing. Ground crews stood by, ready to receive the team. He stared harshly from behind his sunglasses, the normal excitement of returning to his team replaced by the eagerness to conduct the revenge mission. He turned his head to look at the makeshift briefing area he set up in the hangar. When he said immediate-

He meant it.

They'd go out hunting just as soon as they arrived.

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[Zane Cameron]

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The stars stretched endlessly outside his canopy, but Zane wasn't looking at them. His gaze was fixed ahead, locked onto the flashing beacon guiding him toward the hangar bay. The moment he received the message, he hadn't hesitated. Immediate tasking? Priority over all other missions? That wasn't something you ignored as a newer member of the Squadron.

Woostri had happened and now, they were going to do something about it.

His X-wing cut through the void with its usual sharp precision, rolling smoothly as he adjusted course. The moment he hit the hangar perimeter, he flipped on the comms and made his checks for landing.

There was a weight in the air, an unspoken tension crackling beneath the surface of his usual confidence. He could feel it in the way the comm chatter was minimal, the way the hangar looked different from the usual homecoming. No laughter. No easy smiles. Just hard expressions, sharp movements, and the quiet hum of an operation spinning into motion.

His X-wing touched down smoothly, the hiss of the landing struts engaging beneath him. Without missing a beat, he popped the canopy, unstrapped, and hopped down, his boots hitting the deck with purpose. A tech jogged over, offering the usual post-flight check, but Zane barely acknowledged it. His attention was on the man standing near his X-wing, arms crossed, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

Zane rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he walked toward him, flight helmet still tucked under one arm. He could read the tension in Wedge's posture.

And made his approach.

Wedge Draav Maia Cameron (others!)​

 

[Djikra Elnev]

Djikra was sitting in on a meeting. The Great Desert clan was leading negotiations to get the night sister clans more united than ever in their history. But that came to an end with a holo message... It was Draav he needed help with a mission. Mother Elnev got up "Sorry, I have to leave for an emergency off world."

With that she hurried to get her Flight suit. After helping Revenant squadron as honorary Revenant eight defend Coruscant from the Dark Empire she had gotten busy. Using her connections to acquire an X-wing. Was it to practice? Partly, was it to practice magick instead? Absolutely.

Mother Elnev spent a lot of time with some of her sisters infusing the fighter with Magick. and practicing making it move via their green 'teleporting magick'. Djikra had gotten tot he point where she could move her ship twice with our the waters of life, and with it four total times. But if she pushed herself and moved twice then drank the water of life... well she could still move another friendly two times.

It wasn't long till Mother Elnev was hitting hyperspace with R3-J9 with the stars streaking by. It was a while till the stars stopped streaking by and her X-wing painted a very deep gray with ichor green painted markings adoring it was approaching the rendezvous point.
Lining up for landing Djikra responded with the codes letting the flight tower let her land. Upon landing she quickly popped the canopy and removed her helmet leaving it in the seat. The boots of the flight suit clicked on the metal hanger.

Over a ways she sees Wedge with his favorite sunglasses on. So Djikra heads over to get the briefing.

 

[Maia Cameron]

The message came through just as clear as it was concise and Maia answered the call. She ended her week’s leave early. Time she would’ve spent with her friends turned into time in the cockpit of her X-wing. She made her way through the ever-expanding black of space to join the squadron, Revenant Squadron, those said to be the best pilots the Galactic Alliance had to offer. She was officially one of them, the newest one of them, and whether she wanted to or not, she felt going into whatever operation was ahead she’d have something to prove to her squadronmates, and herself. Hopefully that want wouldn’t keep her from focus, because a pilot without focus was as good as dead, and Maia thought herself better than death. She fancied herself invincible and invulnerable. Little did she know she was unwittingly drunk on the naivete of her own youth. The realities of war would age her soon enough.

Maia pulled her X-wing into the hanger bay without difficulty. Her starfighter corps issued astromech, M8-T3, warbled and chirped alerting her to the presence of the Captain Commander Wedge Draav, in addition to her older brother, the Ace Pilot Zane Cameron. One of the Hangar Bay controllers guided her X-wing to land beside his. She popped out of the cockpit when she could. Her grey-blue flight suit appeared crisp, pristine, not worn in at all as she strolled up to her superiors. She patted her brother on the back in her sisterly way, really happy to see him, and took a position next to him. She stared into the reflection of Wedge’s shades. His eyes were obscured from her. The Captain didn’t give up much, but Maia still felt a feeling in the air- intensity.

Tags: Wedge Draav Zane Cameron Djikra Elnev
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[Wedge Draav]

Maia Cameron l Zane Cameron l Djikra Elnev
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Wedge walked forward towards the briefing screen as the pilots took their seats, indicating for them not to rise to their Commander. He brought up a few screens on the board, pointing to the visage of all the dead pilots, his back turned to the gathered pilots. Some other pilots would trickle in, but the bulk of what he would need was here-

And everyone else could get chastised for being late later.

"Nine Alliance pilots are lying in caskets behind you." He took off his sunglasses, hanging them off his flight suit. He paced back to the rear of the formation of chairs making up the briefing area, his hands folded behind him. Neatly, orderly- with significant command presence. Of all the reputations Wedge had, nothing was more true that he was in fact, the boss of Revenant. Not just the leader, not just the best- the boss. He commanded authority through skill, strength, and charisma.

"Nine of our brothers and sisters killed on a training flight. To date, this marks one of the deadliest training death events in Alliance history." He turned back on his heel, walking back to the board. "They were on a training sortie, practicing maneuvers. I, was here instructing them." He tapped the board, enlarging each of their photographs.

"Someone, something, cut down our pilots. Blast patterns indicate that they were caught on the flank- directly out of hyperspace." Wedge flicked his hands, bringing up imagery of the destroyed X-wings, brought in for study inside one of the hangars in the fleet. Not this Destroyer they were on, but another- but the imagery was enough. Nothing conclusive other than they were killed with laser fire, but from what, it was hard to say.

"So. Someone is hunting Alliance training maneuvers. Safe bet is the Sith, can't say for sure. Wouldn't put it past 'em, though." Wedge unfurled his hands, cracking his knuckles. "In a few hours, we will be conducting a sortie identical to the ones that these students and pilots performed. We will be baiting the enemy out into the open."

He turned his head, to the coldness of space beyond the hangar bay, reflecting slightly in his icy-blue eyes.

"We will be locating, we will be destroying, and we will be finding out who the hell had the nerve to attack a training mission. We will leave in two hours, prepare accordingly. We will be using the ships we came in on, with open transponders to make us appear as a regular training sortie, along with two patrol aircraft in escort. We will bait the enemy out, sure as shit."

He looked around, especially at the newer pilots.

"Do I have any questions at this time?"

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[Zane Cameron]

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Zane flicked his gaze toward Djikra when she approached, catching her eyes for just a second before offering a casual wink. Classic Zane — cool, confident, and maybe just a little too flirty for his own good. But it was how he operated, always keeping things light before the intensity of a mission set in.

That ease shifted when his sister's hand landed on his back. His smirk softened into something more genuine as he glanced over at Maia, taking in the crispness of her flight suit, the way she carried herself. She was new to the squadron, but she wasn't new to flying, and he knew better than to let his big brother instincts show too much. Instead, he just offered her a small nod, the silent kind of greeting that said everything without needing to say a word.

Then, Wedge spoke and Zane's smirk vanished.

He stood straighter, his helmet still tucked under one arm, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. Nine pilots. Nine caskets. It didn't sit right. It didn't sit right at all. His jaw tightened as the images flashed on the screen, but his expression remained unreadable. This wasn't just some bad accident or a simple mistake — someone had made a move against them, and that meant one thing.

Retribution.

When Wedge turned and asked for questions, Zane remained silent. He had none. He understood the plan, he understood what needed to be done. They were flying straight into the fire.

And Zane Cameron was ready.

"No questions."

Wedge Draav Maia Cameron Djikra Elnev ​

 

[Djikra Elnev]

Tags: Wedge Draav | Zane Cameron | Maia Cameron |

Zane flicked his gaze toward Djikra when she approached, catching her eyes for just a second before offering a casual wink.

Djikra caught Zane Cameron 's gaze giving a wink and a smile back. Djikra was always liked the attention that came her way. Djikra also nodded at Maia Cameron when she came by.

"Nine Alliance pilots are lying in caskets behind you."

"Nine of our brothers and sisters killed on a training flight. To date, this marks one of the deadliest training death events in Alliance history." He turned back on his heel, walking back to the board. "They were on a training sortie, practicing maneuvers. I, was here instructing them." He tapped
the board, enlarging each of their photographs.

His words had so much emotion to them... so much weight, it truly wasn't fair to have those who were training get cut down.

"Someone, something, cut down our pilots. Blast patterns indicate that they were caught on the flank- directly out of hyperspace."

"So. Someone is hunting Alliance training maneuvers. Safe bet is the Sith, can't say for sure. Wouldn't put it past 'em, though." Wedge unfurled his hands, cracking his knuckles. "In a few hours, we will be conducting a sortie identical to the ones that these students and pilots performed. We will be baiting the enemy out into the open."

He turned his head, to the coldness of space beyond the hangar bay, reflecting slightly in his icy-blue eyes.

"We will be locating, we will be destroying, and we will be finding out who the hell had the nerve to attack a training mission. We will leave in two hours, prepare accordingly. We will be using the ships we came in on, with open transponders to make us appear as a regular training sortie, along with two patrol aircraft in escort. We will bait the enemy out, sure as shit."

Djikra thought Well he is right, the question is who is doing it. And how do they know about it?

"Do I have any questions at this time?"

Djikra raises her hand "Is anyone not okay with their fighter being moved via magick to better take care of the position vs the ambushers?"
She was ready to use her spells to confuse the enemy, along with moving friendlies out of the way. And into a better position in the black of an instant.

 

[Maia Cameron]

"Is anyone not okay with their fighter being moved via magick to better take care of the position vs the ambushers?"

Magick and being hunted from Hyperspace. Maia hadn’t signed up for this, but it was the future that was in front of her. “Only pre-attack,” Maia looked at Djikra. “And only after a few training scenarios. During a live conflict would be too focus-breaking for me.” Maia was intrigued at the prospect of- teleportation? Is that what this was? Her studies growing up never bothered with ideas like magick or the force, really anything hard to describe scientifically.

"Do I have any questions at this time?"

“Getting shot at by something in Hyperspace at a sublight speed sounds like nasty work, Captain Commander. Not only would whatever did this need amazing accuracy, but it would need impossible timing. What sort of starship is capable of that? What sort of weapon is capable of that?” Maia shifted her focus back to the Captain and asked almost incredulously. Almost on account of it actually happened. Nine pilots were killed and the culprit was unknown. She didn’t want to believe it, but based on the Captain’s report and the evidence in front of her she had to believe it.

The Captain asked the Squadron if they had any questions. Maia had too many. If the Captain was there instructing them, how did he not know who attacked the pilots? What sort of monitoring was he doing that he knew the attack came from hyperspace? Were his instruments calibrated properly? Could the attack have come from a cloaked assailant? It was a less farfetched explanation, but Maia would hold off on any judgements until she analyzed the data. She was a scientific genius and wondered for the first time if leaving university for a career in Revenant Squadron was the right choice, after all.

Tags: Wedge Draav Zane Cameron Djikra Elnev
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[Wedge Draav]

Zane Cameron Maia Cameron l Djikra Elnev l
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"There's a couple of theories. But none of them are pleasant. We're facing an unknown threat. By all counts, the training flight had everything working properly- including the nearby Naval assets in the area on-standby for support and maintenance. So. We're looking at something that can hide from us, and engage with us that quickly, and scarier- disappear."

He snapped his head to Djikra Elnev .

"We don't do or say anything that doesn't make us look like anything other than a normal training flight. If we get into contact, then do what you can, but don't throw anything out that's not normal."

He took a deep breath, looking at all of the pilots, then to the dead ones on the screen in front of him. For a moment, he was bathed in the blue light, their faces reflected in his sunglasses.

"They all had families. Every single one of them. Mothers, Fathers. Killed before they even had a chance to be in a war. Their children won't know a life with them. But their children will know that whoever took their lives, isn't around either."

He snapped back to the gathered pilots, staring at each of them.

"No more waiting around. Go get in your seats now."

---

He took off first, leading the formation. He took to the stars first, rolling his neck. He flicked his transponder on- GADFTF1. Training Flight 1. He waited for the others to do the same. They'd have a bit of flight time, enough to think about their decisions. He looked ahead, not seeing anything on radar yet- but they were still within a few kilometers of their old ship.

He turned his head, physically looking at the other fighters.

"Check in, and turn your transponders on. We're the bait, hope they bite."

His skin crawled. They were being watched. Something was out there- in the darkness, waiting for them. He pushed on ahead, pushing the throttle forward. Something was out there, something lying in wait.

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