Out-of-millicanon shenaniganings.

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Atton 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 ..."

Comments

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Ooh, hello.

A cool plane, and a good-looking male. Kaidy approves.

There is, therefore, a patchwork blonde pilot with an oil streak across her snub nose, peering up at him with wicked grey eyes and a shameless appreciation for both man and plane, a wrench-carrying hand propped against her hip.

"Nice wings."

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Solemnly: "They are the best wings."

Through the welding mask, his voice is a little metallic sounding.

"Everyone else here seems to like X-Wings. They've got better guns on them, but they're big and clumsy."

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Kaidy sniffs in professional disapprobation.

"Big and clumsy's no fun. My own bird is fast and violent: just the way I like them."

If you know what she means.

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"They seem to think X-Wings are agile, but they're nothing on an A-Wing or a Dart," Atton says. "Your bird in the hanger here?"

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"No, worse luck." She tuts. "One of these days, I'll find a way to bring her here and show her off."

Kaidy grins: her Valkyrie is the best and the brightest thing in the skies, and she knows it.

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"S'won't be as good as my Dart, but I'm sure it'll be very nice," Atton says, closing the panel.

He slides off the ship, landing on his feet, and undoes the welding mask, pulling it off.

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Kaidy snorts. "If I ever bring her here, I'll race you. Then we'll see who's the best."

She grins at him. "I'm Captain Hawkins, by the way, but you can call me Kaidy."

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"Deal," Atton says.

He grins back at her. "Master Atton Rand," he says, "but, er, it's just Atton. I used to be Airman First Class, too, so my actual flyin' rank ain't as impressive as yours."

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"Well, it's Group Captain the Honourable Katherine Douglas-Hawkins, if we're going to be posh about things," Kaidy says, "But the only people who get to call me that load of old bollocks are my commanding officers and my mother."

Beat.

"Which, to be fair, is more or less the same thing. Anyway, it's the flying hours that count, right?"

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"Aha. I put in a lot of flying hours. Racked up a lot of kills, too, but for promotions they tend to want somebody who can actually be responsible and stuff, not just kill things," Atton grins.

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"Yeah, I never understood it myself. Apparently you can fool all of the people all of the time, or something?" Kaidy grins crookedly. "That or they were blinded by the posh accent."

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"You do sound very Inner Rim," Atton admits.

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She quirks a brow. "Inner Rim? Sounds like something you need a cream for."

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Atton laughs. "Er, no, as in - towards the centre of the galaxy."

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Kaidy grins, bright and vivid. "Ooh, you're a space fly-boy? Haven't met one of you before."

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Atton goes just a tiny bit pink. He rubs the back of his neck.

"Er, yeah. From the Rishi Maze? It's a satellite galaxy around the main one."

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She smirks; the blushing hasn't been missed, however slight it might be.

"You've lost me, I'm afraid," she says. "I'm an Earth girl - my little corner of the Milky Way's all I know."

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Atton laughs. "Ah, back end of nowhere. Kazic III, snowy planet. So far removed that Kazics are Near-Humans, not humans per se."

Headtilt. "A lot of Earth folks in the bar. Not many pilots, though."

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"Well, there's my crew," she says with a shrug, and thinks of another pilot: one with red curls and wide blue eyes. "Although I'm here most, out of the fliers. And I'm ... friends with another, although he's strictly civilian."

Friends. Yeah.

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"There's a lot of pilots from my universe, but they're mostly from the far future."

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"Have you met Trudy yet?" she asks. "She's military - and from my future, although I don't think she's from your 'verse."

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"No. Have you met Wes Janson, Inyri Forge, Tycho Celchu?"

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Kaidy shakes her head. "Maybe we should arrange something, for the sky-kids," she suggests, half-joking. "With five tonne of booze, obviously."

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"There used to be socials, of a sort, for them," Atton smiles.

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"Really? I never knew that." Kaidy's smile is a little self-deprecating, but still amused. "I'm rather the new girl, still, I'm afraid."