Zyra's expression didn't change during Flash's tirade.  She could be just as easily listening to Flash recite poetry.

"Your points are certainly valid, though certainly a little brusque.  Surely you realise I research every new candidate thoroughly, doing extensive background checks and even doing periodic checks on all of you?  I'm the intelligence officer and my job is to keep Mark supplied with good intel.  I for example know about that little incident between you and the mayor's daughter when you were fifteen.  I also recall you were probably a nanometre from being scrubbed from flight duty with the PHA when Mark requested your transfer.  Your former CO was so happy he threw in a case of very fine Corellian Whisky.  I still have a bottle I pilfered from Mark's stock."

The commander put his faith in each of you.  You should trust in him."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:22, Mon 15 Apr 2013.

Sheila scribbles something on a padd and hands it to devon

Flash throws his hands up in the air.  "Great.  Well done.  I got issues with my former CO, so clearly I'm wrong to be concerned.  Way to undermine legitimate concerns.  I do trust the Commander," he adds, leaning forward and glaring at Zyra, "so don't say I don't.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust 'im.  I just said I'd follow his commands.  But you know as well as I do that he doesn't want unthinkin' drones under his watch.  He wants people who'll think.  An' sure, I trust you t'be a good intel officer.  But you didn't have th'chance to do a check on him before he was already aboard the 'Shrike an' you sure as hell haven't taken us all aside to so much as assure us he's on the up-an'-up.  So we gotta use the info we have.  An' of course I'm bein' brusque.  I don't mess around an' I don't talk behind people's backs - not that I expect anyone to actually appreciate that."  He looks CC9 over.  "Except maybe th'droid."
This message was last edited by the player at 03:33, Mon 15 Apr 2013.

CC9 doesn't offer an opinion.

Zyra moved to reply, then paused as if contemplating something she hadn't considered.

"You know something Flash, you're right.  You were appointed by Mark as our security chief, which means you should be directly involved in all matters of Talon security, both internal and external, which would include new employees.  I apologise for this oversight and will raise it with Mark immediately.

I propose you put forth a detailed plan on screenings and security checks of future employees at your earliest possibility.  As we grow as a legitimate group we'll need those checks to protect ourselves.  If you think there are any retograde steps we should take with current employees, include those to."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:05, Mon 15 Apr 2013.

Flash blinks and leans back a bit, apparently completely taken aback by the sudden change in Zyra's tone.  He places his hands on the sides of the chair and pushes down, standing up slowly, and then he nods once, curtly.  "I... right.  Yes."  He doesn't glance about the room; he just watches her a few seconds.  "Yeah, sure.  I'll go get that written up now.  Sorry for...  Right."  He heads for the exit without another word.

Arin sighed deeply. "I ask myself, what I'd do if I were in your boots. The answer is, I would probably be about as paranoid about myself as anyone else, but there is the difference in being suspicious and being simply rude. Imperial Officers do not call those serving with or under them assholes in a briefing, but then again we are not in the Imperial Navy and I would say, Flash's comments would have earned him time in the brig, if we were."

"Honestly speaking, I do not expect any of you to trust me for now - I expect you to trust the Commander and his decissions. If he puts me in charge of a wingpair, then I ask you to work with me. I am a professional officer and even if I used to work for the Empire, I do not work for them anymore. I feel I have much to give for this group - both as a pilot and as an officer. Flash might be a more skilled pilot than I am, but I have also my strong points and I hope you keep them in mind."

"Would you prefer he acted politely to your face and then spoke ill words behind your back?" CC9 asks in his normal flat monotone.

"No. I am simply saying, there are two ways of saying things, even in this kind of a situation. You can say it either politely or impolitely and I would prefer a professional approach to things which means polite."

"Then you suggest that saying the truth in a socially unacceptable way is grounds for jail time?"  CC9 tilts his head.  "I would have calculated that honesty is more professional - and important - than politeness.  Talon Two has no reason to value your feelings over the security of the Talons.  I do not apologise if you find that fact offensive."

"Calculated? Well, that is somewhat understandable as you are a battledroid and you have little appreciation for the niceties that we organics prefer."

Cor sighs and rubs her forehead.  Tapping her personal (non-Talon) commlink she speaks discreetly into it in Umbaran for a few moments and then turns to her B2 droid.  "CC9, please, perhaps you should attend to the B1s, perhaps discuss your ideas for security measures with Mr Allen."  There's an edge to her tone which suggests that it's not a suggestion.  She tilts her head toward the door.

"You have no concept of my capacities.  Your statement is founded on ignorance and is therefore irrelevant."  CC9 nods to Cor.  "By your command, mistress."  Giving Zyra a precise salute he leaves the room in his steady, thumping gait.  "I will send one of the PKs to have you brought back to your quarters when you are ready."  His footsteps recede into the distance as he heads out and back toward the hangar.

Arin gave Cor a weary smile. He was very much thankful for her intervention - after all, she had been thefirst one in Talons to actually make him feel really welcome and not like the enemy. The battledroid was reasonably disturbing and the wayit echoed the sentiments of Flash, it was somewhat annoying.

Once Sheila gets her padd back from Devon, she will head out.

Mika breathes a loud sigh of relief.  Not that Flash and the droid didn't have valid points, but greth skies could they beat that bantha to death.

"Don't sweat it Arin, we don't all have you in our sights."  She suddenly winks and gives Arin a smile that makes the anything-but-well-manicured Mika look almost like a teenager, which she was not so long ago.  "Besides, I for one would like you to think well of me.  After all, thinking well of me won't hurt if you're watching our backs and might just be convenient if you're and Imp plant thinking of turning us in."  She gives a chuckle.

"Zyra, you said there were some sandwiches around here some place...?"

As if on cue, a serving droid walks in with two covered trays and two carafes that it places on the table.  One tray contains sandwiches, the other hot food.  The carafes contain nerf milk and pava juice.  From a recess the droid draws out glasses and places them on the table.



OOC:  Debrief is effectively over unless you wish to discuss things with Zyra.  Remember to prepare a gear list for the trip and take care of any jobs you wish to before the transport goes.

Devon quickly reads Sheila's pad and then slides it back across the table to her.

He watches the back and forth between CC9 and Arin with only a couple of winces at the droids blunt comments.

He chuckles at Mika's comment, and grins.
"Yeah, what she said - I'd be lying if I said I didnt have some worries before the mission... but so far?"  he shrugs.  "You seem OK.  Oh, and seriously, Arin?  Don't waste your time trying to bicker with CC9 - it never works.  I'm still trying to work out if that droid just has a kink in its programming or if its got the driest sense of humour I  ever saw.  And as for A9..."

Leaning on the table, Devon got carefully to his feet and smiled at Cor.
"Cor, your droids are weird; don't ever change them."  Devon scooped up his mug of caf and plate of munchies.  "I better get down to the hanger - stuff to do.  Hey Mika, when you're done filling your face - wanna come help me with those transponders?  I kinda got a hole in my side and cant seem to get about like I usually do..."

Cor sighs again, though for a different reason this time.  She looks at her hands and tugs on each finger in turn, stretching them out.  She has a few scratches here and there from the prior 20 hours of solid work she's put in.  "Actually, yes," she says to Devon, without looking up.  "Both are true.  He has a couple of... quirks, and also what you might call a sense of humour.  I... believe I should be back at the Nightshrike now.  Most likely sleeping."  She calls for a droid on her commlink and runs her fingers over her blindfold lightly while she waits for it to arrive.

Mika sticks her tongue out at Devon's comment about her stuffing her face.  "Yeah, I'll be down in ten.  You older folk don't move all that well even when you don't have holes in you to fall back on."

Mika wasn't callous and she likesthe mechanic, but if he was hurting all that much, he'd be in the infirmery, not at  debriefing.

That said, she investigates the hot food and a glass of juice.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:33, Tue 16 Apr 2013.

Hearing Mira's quip at Devon, Zyra smiled.  "Personally I make it a rule never to make jokes about the people who prepare my food, pay my wages or service my starfighter."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:34, Tue 16 Apr 2013.

Mika gives Zyra a grin, "Smart.  Of course I'm not a snub jock.  I'll stick to the full sized ships and if any of the Talons break a sweat on servicing them, it's gonna be me.  Besides, he started it."

A memo goes out to everyone's datapad.

'Since we are going on vacation, only blaster pistols vibroblades and stun batons will be permitted on the transport.  No explosives of any kind.  Anyone carrying with a non-approved weapon will have it introduced to the airlock.  Anyone bringing a heavier Talon-owned weapon will be charged for it's replacement cost.  Be at the transport by 0700'

Mika reads the message on the datapad and scowls.  "We're going on vacation so the first thing we have to do is get up at the crack of dawn, not that there's a dawn around here to crack."  She mutters, finishing off the hot food and grabbing up a sandwich and another juice and carrying them down towards maintenance.

As she makes her way to join up with Devon, she runs over her default equipment load.  She'd most likely take it all, the weapons were tame enough.  Not knowing what's available to do at the place, she'll have to take stuff to go exploring about, macrobinoculars, grappling spike launcher, glow rod....  And if it's a complete bore, she'd take her blaster kit and tool kit, maybe get a little work done.

Entering maintenance, she looks around.  "Devon, where'd you get to?" she calls out.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, so to speak", Arin said. "I will do my best to live up to the expectations." He quickly browsed through the short message. Shore leave - he'd get to buy some new clothing, perhaps, to replace the rather scruffy-looking overalls he had obtained from the closet, they had been abandoned in to. And some other things, as well.