Trey emerged from the deflector shield generator of his X-wing, grunting as he did so and throwing a wrench at an unlucky Gonk droid passing by. The pilot's R4-droid whistled and beeped sadly in response before wheeling itself to the large crate placed next to the starfighter. Supplies and repair parts for the X-wing. The regular check-up package what the Rebel Alliance could afford with rations and tibanna gas being the only fresh produces. Most of the spare parts were even now used or otherwise faulty that were afterwards repaired by the mechanics, even if the Rebels by now had many factory planets supporting them. The astromech came back after fetching what was needed and Trey jumped onto the wing of the fighter to receive the part.
"This thing keeps wearing these converters like crazy. Start loading up the gas, power cells and rations, will ya? I want them loaded by the time I get this darn shield working like it's supposed to" he said and climbed back up to install the part. He had been struggling with the deflector shield since Hoth when one of the Star Destroyers' ion cannons fried the shields right before the jump into hyperspace. Not he or the mechanics on the ship knew what caused the massive wear to the converters and a request had been made to Starfighter Command that the ship was transported to Incom for proper maintenance or that the shield generator was replaced as a whole. No word had come back yet from them, so they just had to work with what they got.
A Duros man sat under his Y-wing, checking the alignment of the blasters and the proton torpedo chutes. The mechanics had already loaded the ship up with all the tibanna gas and proton torpedoes they had received orders to put in the ship. They had also taken care of all the little adjustments and problems that were routine maintenance after a flight. Such things as rations and weapon alignment were always up to the pilot and how he wished to modify them to suit his own wishes.
Thelor climbed out of under the ship and patted the R5-astromech on the dome.
"You've done a great job. Take a break or something" the Duros man said in his native dialect before walking off. Heading for the hangar bay doors, he looked at the stars and the planet showing out of it. He missed his home. He didn't have a real reason for being in the Rebel Alliance, but when asked why he was there he usually lied that he was bothered by the xenophobia of the Empire. In truth he just wanted something to do with his life. He would be hunted by the Empire anyhow, so why not give them a reason for it as well.
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan
Last edited by Black Knight of Keno; 08-19-2007 at 05:19 PM.