, it's only a few hours before Plourr finds herself striding across the hot duracrete, duffel bag slung over her shoulder and helmet tucked under her arm. The flightsuit is baggy and the same old eye-searing shade of orange, the white flak jacket stifling in the heat, her boots heavy, straps dangling and threatening to tangle her legs-- and she feels more comfortable than she has in a long time. She moves quickly, easily through the bustle, ducking Headhunter wings and fast-moving techs and pilots.
Once across the capital's tiny spacesport's airstrip, she shoves open the hatch on the lone X-wing, still painted with row upon row of fighter silhouettes and the Rogue red stripes, and she stuffs the duffel bag into the small storage compartment. Up above, settled into its place behind the canopy, her R2 unit tweets at her, its top spinning every which way, and Plourr has to smile for a second as she slams the compartment shut. "Yeah, Vapebait, we're going to fly." Vapebait squeals.
She has a sharp, one-sided conversation with a tech who's fueling the X-wing, and then she's gone, ducking under the nose of the snubfighter to shout for the pilots to gather up. She notes rather disapprovingly that it's not 30 seconds before the group of men and women in blue jumpsuits are standing in front of her; they're overeager, nervous. Very, very green.
"Alright. You've all got the coordinates for the jump, right?" Twelve heads nodding. "Recheck them, make sure you ordered them into your navcomputers right. Once we're out there, I don't anticipate too much trouble, but if we do run into any, you stay in your wingpairs, you watch out for each other, and above all
--" She glares at them. "You don't do anything stupid
. Got that?" She receives more nods and quiet assents. "Force be with you. We fly in a few," she says curtly, and she turns on her heel and walks away, helmet dangling from her hand.
Plourr hears them talking once again behind her; wishing each other luck, saying their goodbyes to techs and a family member or two who were allowed on the airstrip. She looks around as she makes her way back to her X-wing, awkwardly carrying the helmet and trying to roll her flightsuit sleeves up to her elbows around it.