This is Rogue Squadron... checking in... Can anyone hear me? This is Red Leader... Uploading my personal log...
You know, being a 'space jockey' does have both advantages and dis-advantages. At least now, working for the New Republican Navy, I get paid better and I can get back to Corellia, my home, on a regular basis. See my folks and siblings.
Boy, I remember when I decided to join the Rebel alliance and become a pilot. My dad was so pissed at me! "No," he said, "I've saved up so you could go to the acadamy! I've worked in the shipwards all my life, and you do this to me?"
Of course back then I was young, stupid, and got drunk a lot. You know, a tyical high school student from a blue-collar planet. It was either the service, the rebels, or doing shift work building spacecraft.
The Rebel alliance didn't care that I wasn't college graduate. They would teach me to fly! Besides, one of their leaders, Princes Liea, she was pretty hot! Now that's really worth fighing for!
So, at the ripe old age of 18, I joined up, went through flight training and officer training and next thing I know I am behind the stick of an old XT-17 trainer. Many hours of simulation training and some "accidents" in the training vehicle (I told them I would pay for the damage I caused), someone noticed that I was a pretty good pilot.
Now, all this took another couple of years, mind you, but soon I was assigned to a group called Rogue Squadron. One of the generals said it was the Rebel Fodder (what ever that means) and that they had a glorious reputation. So off I went to some forsaken planet half-way accross the galaxy and landed at a 'secret' base. Let me tell you, I started having second thoughts about all this. In order to keep the base secret, I had to be transported in a cargo vessel that was also carrying food and live animals (damn Banthas!).
So I get to the base and there is this Colonel Ficus, or something. He's a Mon Calamari. I had never met one before, so I was not sure how to act.
It took me a while to understand him. With those thin lips his basic was terrible. "Waaas eooouu fafeit ghooleer?"
"I'm sorry Colonel, I didn't understand you."
"Whaas eough fafourt cooler?"
"Cooler, Coloner, did you ask if I had a cooler?"
"Shsssfiffp! Whas yeour fafort collar?"
"Ohh, what's my favorite color? Yes, I would have to say blue."
"Whuee haf no blu. Pich nother."
"OK, then red, yes."
He pressed some buttons on his console and then in walked another human (thank goodness).
"Hello, Ensign Anitllies, I am Captain Richards, Red Leader. Welcome to Rogue Squadron."
And that is how I got into the famous (well, now at least) Red Wing of Rogue Squadron.
Please, remember those who are fighting for your country this holiday.