Seemed like nothing was amiss -- and within seconds,
Ryv
had belched out into the stars and she cringed. There was no flight clearance in the abandoned hangar, but that would have to be part of the lesson. Coordinating with other outbound vessels.
At his departure, something in her cockpit blipped. Deployment protocol.
Loske backward-crawled back to the pilot's compartment. Hers seemed a little rustier than either of the boy's. Her fingertips pried at the canopy, strength willing it would pop open with little effort. Alas, it required a lot of effort and she almost fell off the body of the fighter again when the top popped open.
Frank made a hooting noise down below while a metallic arm near the fighters extended and clasped his dome, lifting him from the ground and into his astromech compartment.
While she reoriented herself, and slid into the seat while
Maynard Treicolt
called out to her - encouraging the trio to take flight as a group. Her curiosity was insatiable, and she eagerly responded with a thumbs up and casual:
"More than anything, May." It might have been too early to be assigning nicknames to someone she just met, but Maynard was one syllable too many for this one chin-dip group.
Sinking into the seat, she went through the typical motions of firing up a vessel. The well-practice routine evidenced the ship's status for her, fuel levels, armaments, shields, all that. Frank operated in the back and confirmed they were green to go. She dusted off a helmet that happened to be in the cockpit and pulled it over her blonde hair, reaching inside the visor to wipe away any obscuring dust. Maynard was now out the door. A few more requirements passed, and she too made the transition from the hangar to the vacuum of space. The joy from the pair cackled through their shared channel, and she grinned madly; finding their delight infectious.
Like them, she tested the maneuverability of the craft - pleasantly surprised by it's responsiveness. She revved the repulsors, jutting forward with impressive speed. The ship was light, too.
"Did you see this you guys?" She asked, toggling through the different settings on the screen.
"Looks like there was a Saber Squadron playlist they jived to, pretty cool." Modifying some of the requirements for the broadcasted channel, she selected a song to play and infiltrate all their audio synchronously.
Buried in learning the semantics of the HUD, she reached up fiddle with a toggle she assumed was related to the hyperdrive. She managed her comms back to her isolated ones.
"This seems stuck, Frank. Is it systematically locked?"
Affirmative. The compressor isn't responding.
"Can you unlock it?"
Hold on.
Within seconds, something on her HUD activated in a flurry of binary digits and rotating spheres. The digital movement drew her gaze from the ceiling to the screen.
"Wha..?" She murmured, squinting at the information that sprawled across.
I've bypassed the compressor.
The Starfighter lurched, sounds revving up that were familiar, but unwarranted. It sounded like it was preparing to make a jump to lightspeed. On her dashboard display, the digits coordinated across the vessels, sharing the flightpath between all systems and overriding.
"Aah, looks like you didn't just override mine." She grimaced, fervently pressing buttons that would reject the plotted route to no avail. The starfighter was locked on it's course. Loske flicked back to the shared channel
"Uh, hold on you guys. We're about to go for a ride. Stay close."
Her ship quivered and quaked before Ryv and Maynard would see it snap forward and away, disappearing into the blackness of space at a velocity that forced the stars to turn into blurry white streaks in an insular tube.
These are old coordinates. Frank explained, keeping his droid cool.
Looks like the last expected mission logs were taking the squadron to the Savareen Sector, Koobi systems.