Aboard MC90 Renegade

It was crowded yet surprisingly quiet in the hangar. The E-Wings of Scorpion Squadron and Eagle Squadron's X-Wings were sharing the space. On whole there wasn't a lot for the Infiltrator Wing to do while operations commenced above Jundaxa. Nevertheless, the third squadron on board the Renegade, Firebird, found itself putting its recon specialty in use flying missions in the atmosphere of the jungle planet. As such, they claimed the adjacent hangar to themselves. With them went most of the work and noise, and Edgar did not mind this in the least.

Their squadrons didn't get as much new tech to test as the others did recently. His squadron, Scorpion, has been relegated to patrol duty on the rare occasion they left ship. Edgar's E-Wing was checked over, cleaned, and checked over several more times between these patrols and like the rest of the two squadrons in the hangar, was in absolute readiness. Though action was expected and never wished for, he found himself getting antsy.

Having to be at the ready, alert, but bored at the same time was a dangerous mixture and Edgar found his thoughts drifting. In his flight suit, relaxing on a parts crate jammed against the bulkhead, he unconsciously let his hand drift down to the package sitting at his side. He had developed a bit of a bantering relationship with several of the Imperial marines on the ship and today was one of their birthdays. Edgar grinned as he thought about the gift. The marine was part of a group offering support planetside the last few days, but Edgar heard he was expected to rotate back shipside sometime today.

Edgar's stomach started hurting as an evil sensation passed through him. He kept several food additive extracts in his quarters that delivered quite the kick, and he was was overzealous in spicing his rations this morning. He looked around the large hangar anxiously, seeing other pilots scattered about in pairs talking or by themselves passing the time as bored as Edgar was a moment ago. He knew the time wasn't great, but he had to get to the refresher across the hangar and started off in a hurry, realizing once it was too late to bother turning back that he had brought the gift with him.

He was about halfway, having passed the E-Wings and moving along the X-Wings, the thought creeping into his mind that he might not make it to the bathroom in time, when a human male in a flightsuit came around the back of his X-Wing with a smile.

"Edgar! You were a crazy man with the drinks last night," the man laughed, speaking with a distinct Coruscant accent. Edgar couldn't remember who he was but knew he flew with Firebird. "Where you off to so fast?" The man asked, his face taking a turn.

"Hey man!" Edgar tried to act like he remembered the guy. "Breakfast giving me trouble. Gotta hit the fresher but I'll catch you in a few!"

"Alright." The man chuckled as Edgar continued on. "It's probably the dairy!" He called with a laugh at Edgar's back.

Edgar was convinced that was a joke he didn't get, so he let loud a short laugh for the man's sake as he neared the refresher door and hurried in. Setting the gift down on the sanitizer mounted against the wall and struggled with the flightsuit. It didn't take long, but soon his stomach was feeling better, his hands were cleaned, and he was grabbing the gift while reaching to activate the door control. Nothing happened. He tried again. Nothing.

Sithspit, Edgar thought.

"Open," he muttered.

He tried several more times with no luck before banging on the door and shouting, "Hey! Hey! Anyone out there hear me! The door's stuck!" Edgar waited a moment and listened. "Hey! Anyone!?" The panic was starting to creep into his voice.

Edgar backed away from the door and walked toward it again, trying the activator. Nothing. He tried slapping on the activator a few times and still nothing happened. Growing frustrated, he started slapping at the wall by the door when he hit the rarely used device that allowed for manual control of the lights. The tiny room went dark.

"Sithspit!" Edgar shouted. His eyes not yet adjusted, he had to feel for the device in the dark. After a moment he found it and pressed it to activate the lights. Nothing happened. Edgar let out a cry of despair and started banging on the door again.

"Hey! Someone!" He shouted this several times over, panicked, swinging away at the door before he calmed himself. Taking a deep breath, he stepped back. Another breath and he felt himself getting calmer. Suddenly his frustration grew again and he shouted while kicking at the door, hurting his foot.

Screaming in pain, Edgar fell to the floor. He scrambled to pull his boot off and immediately realized his mistake as his foot started to swell. He wasn't sure it'd be going back in the boot any time soon. Sitting there on the refresher floor, one boot on, in the dark, Edgar was feeling pathetic but took calm in the fact that he wasn't expected anywhere.

He was smart. Mechanically capable. Edgar rubbed his tanned hand across his head, the black hair cut close to the skin, and thought. Suddenly, losing patience, he jumped to his feet to again bang his hand against the activator and shout for help. Forgetting that he was only wearing one boot, and unprepared for the ever-so-slight unevenness in his step, he fell in the dark, crashing his head against the sanitizer unit and breaking it off the wall. The gift he had brought in with him flung against the opposite wall and opened. Edgar heard some of the contents spill out and roll around on the floor. He merely sighed as he rubbed his head, the pain above his ear competing with the pain in his foot.

He stopped rubbing his head, folded his legs in, and slouched over in a defeated posture as he sat on the floor. Hands in his lap, sitting on the refresher floor, he took a deep breath and let out another sigh. This one longer and a bit more melodramatic. Then his heart leapt into his throat as he heard the alarm blare. They were being called to battlestations. Fleet Admiral Berkana's flagship called it in. The First Order was countering. He had to get to his craft. Stryker was going to kill him when he got back.

As soundproof as the refresher doors evidently were, Edgar could still hear the cacophony of the hangar on the other side. Crew rushing. Ships, having already been prepared, launching quickly after the order came through.

"Why!? Why won't anything go my way!" Edgar shouted in the direction of the malfunctioning door. As if to taunt him, the lights came back on.

Looking around himself, he let out another long dramatic sigh. He reached for a few of the pigmented wax sticks, the gift he had for the marine, and grabbed some paper off the roll on the wall by the vacc tube. Scooting back to the place on the floor he was at, he began drawing a picture to pass the time until someone found him.

Outside in the hangar, only a few crew members remained and one lone E-Wing near the center. The astro droid, loaded into the ship, was humming a singsong of beeps to itself, unworried about the missing pilot and rather enjoying itself as a shipwide call sounded.

"Scorpion two to their ship! Scorpion two!"