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Out-of-millicanon shenaniganings.
Apr. 6th, 2012 11:54 pmAtton is in the Paradox Squadron hanger (Force knows how they managed to get a hanger into the upper floors at the bar, Atton just isn't going to ask), doing repairs on his Dart.
(The Dart is a good ship. A compact, one-person light fighter in an arrowhead shape, coloured dark grey, with as many guns as the Republic's engineers could fit on it. It's one of the smaller ships there, with only the A-Wings being smaller, and even then not by much.
The Paradox Squadron symbol is etched on one wing, along with a tally of kills which is somewhat astronomical.)
This involves lying on his stomach on the top of the ship, curved over the cockpit, in jeans, an undershirt (both oil-soaked) and a rather large welding mask, poking at an open panel with something that sparks every so often.
"Shhhh, shhhh, darling. S'okay, we're nearly there ..."
(The Dart is a good ship. A compact, one-person light fighter in an arrowhead shape, coloured dark grey, with as many guns as the Republic's engineers could fit on it. It's one of the smaller ships there, with only the A-Wings being smaller, and even then not by much.
The Paradox Squadron symbol is etched on one wing, along with a tally of kills which is somewhat astronomical.)
This involves lying on his stomach on the top of the ship, curved over the cockpit, in jeans, an undershirt (both oil-soaked) and a rather large welding mask, poking at an open panel with something that sparks every so often.
"Shhhh, shhhh, darling. S'okay, we're nearly there ..."
