#the mechanic has to put the craft back together after the hooligan pilots destroy the hydraulics in

[gospelofme]

@fus-ro-nah in honor of these tags

120,000 Republic credits just zipped by, followed closely by another 120,000 Republic credits. Cruiser’s shoulders dropped as he stared out the large window overlooking the airfield. He was waiting on the machine to finish making his caf. It wasn’t as good as what the Officers got, but sometimes you got lucky and received some caf grounds that gave you a nice, crunchy kick.

Ordinarily, Cruiser wouldn’t care about an Alpha-3 Nimbus-class v-wing starfighter or two flying by. They were at war and pilots needed to train, regardless of the experience level. But these pilots weren’t training. They were playing. Again. Cruiser held his breath as the pilots executed close passes and sharp turns. There were three beeps, signaling his caf was ready. Cruiser took a sip as he watched one fighter flip upside down and maneuver over the other, canopies nearly touching. If Cruiser had credits, he’d bet that Joker was giving Bravo a rude hand gesture.

He watched from the window as Bravo started doing barrel rolls. One look down at the edge of the hanger showed 6 clone pilots, split into two groups of three. One group, Bravo’s team, was getting increasingly excited. Cruiser could hear them slowly count the number of Bravo’s rolls out loud. Joker’s team was quiet, looking as if they still had hope their buddy could pull this off.

“Bravo is trying to break Joker’s barrel roll record again.” Cruiser spoke, the only other person in the break room with him was Captain Jag. Why he was in here and not the Officer’s break room wasn’t a mystery. One look told the mechanic that the Captain was running on empty.

“Yuuup.” Came Jag’s slow, tired reply.

“If he does it, you know what that means.” The mechanic said cryptically.

“Sure do.” Jag answered.

“11…12…13!!! He did it!! Ahahahaha!!!! Take that!!” Rocket, Bravo’s wingman cheered.

“He’s not done yet!” Whiplash replied. Cruiser sighed and tiredly walked out of the break room, trudged down the steps, and watched the birds come in for a landing.

“He’s steady, good landing, solid.” Rocket narrated like he was a sports announcer. He mimed holding a microphone. Joker’s canopy opened first.

“You keep your ass in that bird! Give my boy a chance!!” Rocket said fiercely, pointing at Joker. The other pilot rolled his eyes, or Cruiser was pretty sure he did. The pilot’s helmet was still firmly in place. Bravo’s men clung to each other as if their lives depended on it. They watched Bravo get out of the fighter, slowly. He took a couple wobbly steps but steadied himself quickly. The gathered pilots watched him intently.

“Just do it, you know you want to Bravo. It will make you feel better.” Whiplash encouraged. Cruiser shook his head. Bravo quickly doubled over and grabbed his knees, Joker’s team looking to be on the verge of victory. But, dramatically, Bravo held up a finger. He slowly stood back up, paused.

“1…2…3….”

He took a steadying breath as his voice shook on the number 3.

“4….5!” He finished. His team cheered!!

“YES! We win!! You know what that means Joker!! Pull that loud handle!!” Rocket threw an arm around Bravo’s shoulder. Joker sighed, defeated.

“Uuughhhhhh.” Cruiser heard him groan as he sat back down in the fighter, canopy closing. A few seconds later, the canopy exploded off the Alpha-3, Crusier watching all those credits spiral off. The ejection chair rocketed Joker out of the fighter. Cruiser followed the pilot up into the sky, watching the seat separate and the parachute open. The unceremonious landing Joker experienced once his boots hit solid ground gave Cruiser some satisfaction.

Giving a sigh, Cruiser went to retrieve a new ejection seat. Time to make the bird useable again. He used a levitating cart to escort the new chair to the fighter, turning the corner of the hanger. He was greeted by a sight he knew he’d find. Rocket patting Bravo on the back as his wingman threw up everything he ate into the trash receptacle.

“It’s okay buddy, there ya go. Just get it out. You took one for the team.” He soothed, giving Cruiser a thumbs up. The mechanic shook his head, this would be a regular occurrence until Revenant Squadron shipped out again. As much frustration as these guys caused Cruiser, and they were serious pains in his ass at times, he knew he’d miss them.

We didn’t have much material in the show surrounding clone pilots.

Gimme clone fighter pilots painting nose art on their birds.

Gimme clone fighter pilots with their number and name painted on the rim near the cockpit.

Gimme clone fighter pilots ejecting themselves from their fighter jets from the ground on a dare.

Gimme clone fighter pilots doing “fancy flying” and judging each other’s moves.

Gimme that sweet POV camera angle of a dogfight.