IT IS A TIME OF GALACTIC WAR
Striking from their secret Yavin IV base, the Rebel Alliance has managed to destroy the supremely powerful Imperial DEATH STAR, bringing the bright spark of hope to a beleaguered galaxy.
But they are not the only heroes with the courage and sacrificing will to stand up to the still terrifyingly potent Imperial military. Across dozens of systems, brave men and women gather to strike back at the Empire with all their strength.
In the Estan System, one such Rebel group inhabits the hidden STARSHADOW BASE. But their battle cannot continue alone, and with the Alliance's recent victory, they have been able to answer the base's call for new recruits with a band of varied soldiers, technicians, pilots, spies and more. Their arrival at the base is timely, for commander TYJAK MORR already has a task for them in mind...
The space outside Rika's Cockpit windows definitely wasn't as empty as space usually was. Thick clouds of gas and dust obscured her ability to see even clear star patterns, and the clouds weren't purely visual either; the scanners were being thrown all over the shop by electromagnetic and gravitic interference. She'd have almost been impressed by this as a choice for a rebel base, except she was pretty sure that it was no good for the paint work on her beloved U-Wing. Not that the U-Wing had been flown by Rika for long at all, but if she flew it, then it was her baby. That was the rule. Oh well... "Nav system says we're one minute out, broadcasting docking codes now..."
Not that the Rebel Alliance tolerated discrimination against aliens, but Liakazza the Wookie having the access codes to the base had seemed a little unusual. That said, the Wookie had give numerous polite assurances that the codes he had been entrusted in would be fine, and indeed, that they showed a commendable level of careful encryption and multi-layered program codes. Whoever had come up with them, in fact, might have been called a little paranoid... a minor observation the Spy kept to himself. No need to concern anyone unduly, of course.
The rest of the crew sat in the hold seats, and hearing Rika's call buckled themselves in for the landing, just in time for the U-WIng to smoothly glide the ship out of a cloud... and then abruptly roll to meet the gravitational field of the moonlet beneath them. Nobody had mentioned that this place would be so screwy, but it all seemed to look legitimate in the sense that only someone who definitely didn't want to be found would be. Plus that was definitely a pair of Rebel Y-Wings gliding out of the clouds to their left and right to escort the larger transport ship in. The ships hung back a bit, almost as if they were preparing to launch an attack on the new arrival's ship. Either these guys were nervous, or they were really, really careful...
"U-Wing, receive designate Delta 1/1, do you copy?" "Copy Y-Wing, reading your callsign as Alpha 2/1, that correct?" "That's right Delta 1/1, your codes all check out. Sending a landing flight path to you now. We'll see you inside. Watch out for the comm towers." With a distinct lack of Torpedo fire following it's aft trail, the U-Wing rolled and dived into a canyon zone that seemed to be a dead end, but for a minor cliffside opening, inside which landing lights flickered and signaled green for drop go. With a hiss of hydraulics and the thrum of repulsor systems adjusting to hanger floor density, the U-Wing came to a gentle rest. The hanger turned out to be a rather cavernous space, quite literally. A cave system held up by arcing pillars of natural rock, in between which sat Y-Wings, Z-95s, piles of equipment and fuelling stations, criss-crossing heavy duty power lines, and plenty of starship techs. As the door opened and the crew got out, they found that they had been met on the landing platform by a female Duros wearing a mechanics get-up, thoroughly stained through with use, and a serious looking young man in a featureless space operations get-up of jacket, pants and boots. Both were armed, though neither looked aggressive. That said, a few more Rebels were sat around on nearby cargo crates, all of them packing, and it was hard not to feel slightly put off by this kind of welcome. The Duros turned to the man and said "ship checks out, no trackers, and matches the details." The man nodded, and stepped forward.
"Alright, we're sorry for the... difficult welcome. But we take security pretty seriously around here, and for good reason. I'll need you all to sound off, make sure that your ID's check with what we've been given."
The man did look genuinely apologetic, but his tone and the blasters of the guys behind him didn't brook many arguments...
This is basically a chance for you guys to describe your appearances, give your names and duties, make observations about the situation and the arrival etc.