Talon Nest Conference Room - 24 hours later

Upon leaving the freighters in Rann's care, the Talons immediately set course for Talon Nest, the asteroid base that served as the Black Talon HQ.  It took the better part of six hours to get there as Mark insisted on a complex route to ensure they weren't followed.  By the time they got there, despite the fact half the Talons had never been here, everyone was happy just to grab a quick bite in the mess, and grab some rack time.  After that there was little time to explore as Mark had called for debriefing.  Fortunately as Mark always ensured there was food at these things, hitting the mess was not necessary.




OOC:  Talon Nest is a hollowed out asteroid, strip mined and abandoned.  It's in a remote sector in the Outer Rim, outside of Imperial space (so nowhere near the Phindar sector).  Of the Talons only Zyra, Mark, Flash and Devon have been here before.  Zyra picked it up for the bargain price of nothing.  Externally it looks like an asteroid, the landing bay has been concealed.  It has no external monitoring or sensor equipment which makes it not show up on sensors but means it can't detect incoming ships.  It has a cavernous hangar that easily fits the Nightshrike and several ships.  It has sleeping quarters for 50, mostly dorms, but there are so many empty rooms for storage and the like, everyone can have their own area.  It has few amenities.  The place is maintained by a couple of maintenance and cleaning droids.

If anyone wanted to submit a private report to Mark on the mission (i.e. team leaders especially, but anyone in general) you had plenty of time to send him a message.  Else lets debrief!
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:57, Wed 10 Apr 2013.

Cor has spent a lot of time ordering her droids about.  Her primary priority was and is the droids of the outfit; that includes not only her own (the two B1s needing repairs to get them operational) but also the newly-acquired droids from the three freighters.  Two R2s, two cleaning droids and five maintenance droids - not at all a bad catch.  Let the space jockeys mess around with the freighters; her job has just started.

The Umbaran spends far too much of the intervening 24 hours making repairs to her B1s and reprogramming the new nine droids.  While her own droids remain hers the new nine droids are programmed to be Talon property, not her own.  With a new pair of R2s, in particular, repairs to both the Nightshrike and the droids will be a great deal faster.  Unless the other Talons override her and sell the droids off, of course.  That's a possibility she's considered, and she's ready to object to it.

She's reclusive and mostly unresponsive for the intervening time - even for her.  Focussed entirely on the droids she forgets to eat and often simply doesn't hear knocks on her door.  She only manages a couple of hours of sleep before heading to the conference room.

When she enters Cor is led by CC9 and she is blindfolded.  After being led to a seat she pulls the blindfold off and exchanges it for a pair of dark glasses, yawning delicately behind one hand.  After getting CC9 to bring her some caffeine of some kind (she doesn't care what as long as it's strong) she sits up in her chair, drinking it slowly and looking somewhere between asleep and hung over.

CC9 has spent the time since the mission dealing with prisoners.  He makes sure they're away safely, as he promised, with no injuries as long as their lack of aggression remains.  Once that is done he makes sure that all bodies are disposed of in a suitable manner (either dumping in deep space or incineration) and that all of the stormtrooper armour and any still-functioning weaponry that can be scavenged is.  He orders a couple of PK droids to take the broken B1s back to the Nightshrike.

Having done that he stops to recharge.  Nothing like a good hard recharge after a vigorous battle.  With batteries refreshed CC9 spends the rest of the time patrolling the Nightshrike and, when they arrive at Talon Nest, examining Nest security (such as it is).  He makes several notes to bring up with the Talon leaders when it becomes necessary and/or ideal.

A few minutes before the debriefing he rouses his mistress and waits while she refreshes herself.  Blindfolding her he escorts her out to the conference room, leaving the two repaired B1s to patrol Talon Nest in a basic security pattern.  He stands slightly behind her chair when she's all set up with drinks.

Mika hadn't been worth much after they left the freighters behind.  First she'd been helping to direct a battle, then she'd been stuck being a replacement assault team commander, then back to her comfort zone as an engineer and finally pilot/captain of a ship that just might turn itself inside out with the stress of a hyperspace jump in a structurally challenged ship.  She'd been unwilling to leave the bridge for the whole trip.

She did push herself to cover her shifts on the 'Shrike, being their best cap ship pilot (at least in her own mind) and she found a moment to talk to Shepard about Heigrin.  She didn't delve into specifics, just mentioned tha t the guy seemed a bit unstable under stress.

Hitting the base though, Mika found a nice little out of the way room she could call her own and fell into a deep sleep, not even boering to change clothes.  Getting up with extreme difficulty, she spends an extra quarter hour in the fresher, ran her clithes through it too, removing most of the wrinkles.

Stumping into the brifing room, Mika mutters greetings to any in the room, grabs herself a stim drink and some pastries.  She'd burned a lot of energy the day before and skipped a couple of meals, some fast energy was certainly called for.

Zyra was already in the briefing room as the first Talons rolled in.  She was engrossed in a portable computer, tapping away furiously and flipping between various screens.  She also had a portable comm in her ear which she was speaking in to regularly, seemingly recording messages and taking notes.

When she saw the state of the Talons coming in she looked over to them and said.  "I've told the mess droids to prepare some hot meals and sandwiches.  The commander may think we can run on caff and sugar but I think we need something a bit more substantial."  She waved her hand to the customary trays of sweetcakes, pastries and caff on a side table, a regular at all of Mark's meetings.

What Flash has been up to is probably a mystery to most.  As soon as getting back and surveying his fighter to make sure its systems are still hunky-dory the pilot heads straight for his bunk.  There he remains, cloistered in his room, until the debriefing.

He's clearly in a hell of a good mood when he gets to the conference room.  Strolling in like he walking onto a yacht Flash heads straight for the refreshments.  Caff and pastries!  Nummy!  He grabs a hefty plate of them; the growl from his stomach is audible as he plonks easily down into a chair and lounges back comfortably.  With a casual salute to Mark he gets to the eatin'.  Every now and then he grins and chuckles to himself, looking as pleased as Punch (not that said puppet is something he's ever experienced).

Once they get back, Sheila is irritated, but she has somethings to do first.  She starts with working on the injured. That would be Xil and Heigran and anyone else that needs it.


That should take a while,  Somewhere between medical care and whatever else, she grabbed an hour or so of sleep, then showed up to the debriefing.

Arin walked in to the refreshed, only barely removing his flightsuit before he was in there, and once in he stood there for about ten minutes before exiting and draping him in the jumpsuit he had managed to dig up before the mission. He really needed something new to wear, but that would have to wait for a proper moment.

A number of thoughts ran through his head. He had already drafted a message to send to Mark and depending on Mark's answer, he was possibly going to have a long talk with one particular member of the Talon crew.

He walked out of the quarters he had been assigned and picked up a plate, filling it with food. It had been a long flight and he really needed to fill himself up to the brim before passing out in his cot before the briefing the next day.

After a good, long sleep, Arin sat down to work on a design he had had in mind. If they could get the funding for it somehow, it would make a good fighter with heavy firepower and enough maneuverability to make a difference. It might not outmaneuver a T.I.E., but it could hold its own against it and pack enough punch to do considerable damage on smaller capital ships as well.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:27, Fri 12 Apr 2013.

Once freed of the clutches of Sheila in medical, Devon - perhaps inevitably - gravitated towards the hanger to check on the condition of the Talons small fleet of ships.  A quick inspection was enough to satisfy him that nothing too bad had happened to the fighters - the worst was Flash's Cloakshape, but that had belonged to Phindar Petroleum so their mechanics would have to fix it.

Confident that no-one would chew him out for not getting straight to work, Devon gave some brief instructions to the maintenace droids - they could start on the easy stuff - and headed for his bunk.  Time to sleeeeeeeeeeeep.


When he arrived in the debrief room, Devon looked better.  Although he was still stiff and favouring his injured side; a change of clothes, a shower and some much needed rest meant he no longer looked like a total embarrassment to be the same species as.
Homing in on the munchies, Devon began loading a plate.  He rolled his eyes at Zyra's idea that they couldnt live on just caff and sugar.
"pssh.  Lady, you just listed the two main food groups." he told her cheerfully, before lowering himself - with a couple of winces - into a seat.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:23, Fri 12 Apr 2013.

Mark arrived a few minutes before the scheduled briefing but seeing everyone was there he began.

"I know we haven't been back long, but you've all had a chance to adjust and get some rack time so let's get to it."  He could see several Talons clearly hadn't taken the opportunity to rest but that wasn't his issue.  He wasn't their father.

"First off I imagine you all want to hear about Mister Nallis.  He's still in a coma and we're told there's no telling how long he may remain like that.  We left him in the bacta tanks back in the Phindar system.  Mr Pertwee will arrange the best medical care for him."

"As for Mister Pertwee himself, he'll be remaining in the Phindar system.  After he has arranged sale of the freighters, he's going to take over day to day operations of Phindar Petroleum for us.  With the last mission we can purchase a majority share in the company and expand the fleet.  That will mean money and fuel rolling in for us."

"Now you'll all be receiving a percentage of the proceeds from selling the freighters.  I can't tell you how much that is yet, it will be based on what the XO and Mr Pertwee can get for them.  The XO is setting up numbered accounts for you out of the corporate sector and your money will be transferred to those."

"We've decided since he had no family, we'll be forwarding Grayrrhyn's share to the alien refugees we saved from Phindar Prime.  They were the closest thing to family he had."

"Now lets get down to the mission debrief.  I've deliberately not invited Heigren to this meeting as I've had a couple of concerns raised we may wish to discuss.  We can invite him later."

He looked around the team waiting for someone to start.  Given the number of messages he'd recieved, he was sure people would have plenty to say.

Mika looks around.  There was something about these debriefs that made her think of school, on those occasions she hadn't ditched out.  The teacher would ask a question, just about every one knew the answer, but no one wanted to speak up.  Well, she was getting tired of letting herself be intimidated.

"If you ask me, we had problems not keeping each other in the loop...  and maybe biting off more than they could chew."  She was quite up to arguing for a more adherence to the command chain, being the rebellious type herself.

Cor leans forward slightly.  "I have several ideas about how to address that issue.  One primary concern on the last mission was uncertainty of the conditions of the two teams."  If she's upset about Grayrhynn's death or Xil's medical state she isn't showing it.  "By installing vital monitors into various forms of Talon equipment I can monitor the life-signs of Talon members on future missions - right down to tell-tale biological reactions such as elevated heart rates and drop in blood pressure."  She shrugs.  "I am no medical expert, of course, but programs can be set to signal alarms should a member's vitals drop below or elevate above their species's normal range."

Arin nodded. "Cor is very much right about that", he said. "The Empire studied the same kind of equipment as far as I know, but technically I suppose they would be best run through some kind of a modulated comlink system that activates if one of the parameters goes outside the acceptable limits. That way, there would be no transmissions unless something goes wrong - at which point it does not really matter that much anymore."

Cor shrugs one shoulder lightly.  "Over the encrypted Talon comms system it should not make any difference if the equipment transmits a micropulse of information every few seconds.  The likelihood of someone monitoring the relevant frequencies in the first place is very minimal and the amount of information is exceedingly small, even when encrypted."  She wraps her hands around her caff cup to warm them.  "In most places there is so much wireless information being constantly streamed about that a few blips in the noise make no difference at all."

"Lambar, why don't you continue pursue the idea of including some sort of life monitor in our equipment?  Ms Masters could probably help you given her medical and technological skills."

"Trake, would you care to clarify your statement further?  How did you feel the communication chain broke down?  Or people exceeded their role?"

"Remember everyone, this is a time to look objectively at our actions to make our next assault better, we're not assigning blame so feel free to speak constructively."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:56, Fri 12 Apr 2013.

"She probably means when a certain Commander decided to make an attack run on an Imperial Patrol Vessel in a ship nearly as old as he is while being supported by a wingman in an unshielded craft that is even older.  You do realise Phindar Petroleum weren't happy with the shape their Cloakshape was returned in?  I should take it out of your share of the profits."

From her light tone it was clear Zyra was teasing the commander and wasn't really rebuking him.

Flash shakes his head and gulps down the mouthful of food he's been chewing.  "Nah," he says firmly, "not possible.  She couldn't have meant that.  There's no starfighter as old as the Commander."  He's still in a downright jovial mood.  "That was a fun ride, that Cloakshape.  Fun ride."