Training for Reed Cabilla

jpchewy01

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Reed Cabilla woke up on a sunny Coruscant morning. Just as training day should be. Nice. As soon as he walked outside, he could see how good the day was. The sun was out, but a nice cool breeze kept away the thick pollution. "Wow", Reed said as he gazed out at the people running the track and shooting the targets, "What a good day."
 

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“Good morning sir.”

It was the voice of Danneth's orderly, a fresh-faced Under Officer that had been recently seconded to his staff, as he entered the Captain's quarters. Danneth had been awake for several hours already, with a throbing headache, pouring over the latest fleet-status reports and dossiers of potential trainees. The aide bore a plastene mug with steam curling from the surface of a brackish looking liquid. Chandrillan herb tea was Danneth's morning constitutional, sure to clear away any lingering hangover or sleep-deprived stupor that an officer recently on-leave might experience. Danneth had been drinking it for twenty years and he'd never yet grown accustomed to its foul taste. The Under Officer placed the mug on his desk, near the pile of unfinished data-reports. He offered a salute and beat a hasty retreat, not wanting to get caught in one of Tarn's somewhat legendary morning tirades.

Danneth sighed and sipped at the tea. He didn't belong on Coruscant while a war was on, planetside postings had never appealed to him, but Republic Maintenance Corps had taken the opportunity of the cease-fire to test the general space-worthiness of his ship, the Valiance. Even now, she was hanging over Fondor in some orbital dock, having her computer systems scrubbed and her hull checked for atmospheric breaches. She'd get a new set of vacuum seals and an engine tuning. They would probably even iron out the waffle in her thrust vectored rudder – she'd been a bit sluggish at the wheel lately. Still, Danneth missed the sensation of being aboard. It had been difficult to sleep without the steady thrum of her engines and the vibrations of her deck plates.

There was no use crying over it though, when the Republic called, Tarn answered. They had called him to Coruscant, to the Academy, to train new recruits for the officer corps. It wasn't his favorite idea as a posting, but there was always a need for well-trained, tactically minded officers to serve as teachers – if only briefly. He finished his tea, downing the contents, along with the sludge at the bottom, with a single , grimace-inducing gulp. Time to get down to business. He laced up his boots and headed out into the training yard, making a bee-line for the assembly area.
 
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jpchewy01

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Excited to begin his first day of training, Reed saw an older officer in a naval uniform walking towards him. He straightened up and saluted. "Good morning sir! Nice day isnt it?"
 

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Danneth recognized the cadet from the dossiers he'd been pouring over all morning: Cabilla, Reed. A newly minted Officer Cadet. Corellian too, if he remembered correctly; that could be a potential problem - Corellians were notoriously bad with authority. At least he knew how to salute.

“I've seen worse, cadet,” Danneth returned the younger man's salute and gave him a curt nod, “at ease. I'm Captain Tarn of the Valiance, I'll be conducting your training. Before we get started, why don't you tell me about yourself. Why'd you join up and what makes you want to be an officer?”
 

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Excitedly, but not too much, Reed told him, "Sir! I am a naturally born Corellian and I own and pilot my own ship. I have combat experience against pirates, and have made many cargo runs through dangerous areas. I am a skilled pilot and a leader which makes me perfect for the Navy. I also am a leader and want to help protect the galaxy, which makes me perfect for the Officer Corps."
 

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“A good sell,” Danneth conceded with another nod and the wisp of a smile. Cabilla's dossier has included this information, but the captain had wanted to hear how the cadet would pitch it – whether he would sacrifice facts in order to make himself look better. He hadn't, and Danneth was pleased. This man had experience, confidence, and motivation; he would probably make an excellent cadet. “In awhile, we'll put your piloting skills to the test. For now, I want to talk about something you brought up about the Officer Corps. Fall in and we'll head to the training rooms.” And with that, Danneth turned on heel and headed off towards the opposite side of the compound

The academy's training rooms were filled with lecture halls, firing ranges, simulators, obstacle courses, any scenario you could imagine could be recreated there, at least on a small scale. For Danneth and Reed's purposes, the captain had reserved the use of a small classroom. It was, in almost every way, identical to its civilian counterpart, with the exception of the large data-screen behind the lectern with the symbol of the Republic military emblazoned on it. Danneth lead the way into the room and gestured towards the first row. “Have a seat.”
 

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Reed looked around the nondescript classroom. Nothing of interest. A map of the galaxy and a few desks. Why were they here? Hadn't the officer talked about piloting? They had walked past all of the simulators, it had seemed. They were here and he was sitting down. "Is this a written portion?"
 

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"There's more to navy life than flying ships, son." It was clear that the cadet was eager to get to the action-oriented side of things, and Danneth could appreciate that, but before they could do anything of that nation, Danneth had to know exactly what he had to work with. In the interest of thoroughness, they would start in the same place Danneth had started all those years ago - the very bottom.

"When I asked you why you wanted to be an officer, you mentioned being a natural leadership. You really blasted the mynock with that one. Officers are leaders, its what we do. The question is, what does being a leader mean to you?"
 

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The officer had asked a question that Reed had prepared for a long time ago. He had to answer it once before, a long time ago.

"A leader is someone who can lead, obviously," said Reed. But before the Officer could pile on the lecture, Reed finished, "Leading is not only the ability to command and control. Leading is the ability to relate to a person and get them to do something willingly. Leading is not only the art of giving commands, but also the art of recieving them and passing them on. You are never at the top of the food chain. When you recieve orders for a mission, you have to interpret them and lead your people on that mission. They are your responsibility now. Their lives are in your hands. You have to get them out safely. Even if its a "suicide mission". You have to at least try."
 

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Danneth was pleasantly surprised at Reed's answer. It was more than the canned response he usually received and Danneth could tell that this man had put serious thought into it. “That's good, very good. You unpacked it nicely.” The captain pulled a stylus out of the lectern and began scribbling on the data-screen, a trail of green lettering fading in as he finished. 'Leadership is: relational, receptive, interpretive, responsible.'

Danneth took a step back to admire his handiwork. “That's nearly everything, but let me expand just a bit on the first one. As you've probably already experienced, the military is an insitition unique in its ability to form relationships. Comradeship is...well, bizarre to say the least. Its the only time I can think of where people willingly throw their lives away for people who aren't physically related to them. Even more unique is the relationship between the officer and those under his command. Can you tell me how?”
 
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jpchewy01

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Reed was not prepared for something like this, but he thought of how people he didnt even know made sacrifices for him while on cargo runs.

"Hmmm. I belive that comradship between an officer and those under his command is caused because they develope a sort of father/son relationship. The officer feels responsible for the lives of his men. He wants them to go back to their families and enjoy life. And an officer is concerned when something goes wrong. They start to care about their men. They start to t reat them like people," Reed gave him the best answer he could think of. He didnt know what to say.
 

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“That's well said, but there's one key element you are missing. As much as you care for your men, as much as you want to protect them, remember, ultimately, everyone who belongs to this military is expendable – from the lowliest private to the Supreme Commander.” Dannith's face clouded slightly, as memories of this reality flooded through his mind. “As an officer, there will come a time when, despite your best efforts, you will be forced to order the men and women you command to their deaths. You'll never forget the first time it happens either...” Danneth paused and his eyes glassed over as he settled into thought. He looked down at the rank bar on his jacket and gave a little shake of the head, “I was in commanding a patrol in Expansion Rim, searching for pirates,” he gave a shrug of the shoulders, as if to say 'what else'. “They were holed up in their asteroid base and I had to send in a fighter squadron to lure them out...I lost four good men in return for a bunch of dead pirates, and they gave me this captaincy,” he tapped the rank cylinder, “as a reward. Every time I look down, I remember their faces. That, cadet, is the burden of command. You think about it long and hard before you decide whether this is the life for you.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Danneth tried to shake himself from the memory. Finally, he straightened back up and the hint of smile returned to his eyes. “Well lad, I think that's enough grimness for one day. Why don't we get into tactics?” He punched a button sunken into the lectern and immediately the black data-screen resolved into the image of an active battle, simulated as a sensor screen.

“Here we have a typical Alsakan/Republic skirmish. The blue ovals are non-combatants, freighters. The green and red ovals are Republic and Alsakan capital ships respectively,” Danneth gestured towards the screen, “while the triangles serve as snub-fighters. The scenario should be familiar to you: Republic force protecting shipping from an Alsakan attack. Now then, you're a fighter-jock yes? This squadron here,” he panned the screen towards the leftmost flank of the battlefield, focusing in on a series of twelve green triangles, spaced in tight formation across the screen, “they're protecting the left flank of the convoy but they're about to be engaged by this cruiser,” he circled a fast approaching red oval, “and its fighter escorts. If you were commanding that squadron, what would you do?”
 

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Reed gave a long hard look at the captain after he gave his little recount. Poor man, he thought. But soon, the officer moved on to tactics. Faced with the scenario, Reed saw the answer. It was a trick he had used many times. "Easy. Reroute the freighters and half of the squadron off the route out of the line sight while the other half attacks the vital weapons and bridge areas on the cruiser. If they can, the freighers can make a quick jump to hyperspace," satisfied with his answer, Reed settled in his chair.
 

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Danneth smirked as Reed snapped out an answer as quickly as he would expect a ten-year squadron commander to have done. Confident,he thought, remembering another cadet in a similar position thirty odd years ago with a similar response: himself. Maybe too confident. Cocky even. “Easy, ehh,” the captain raised a grizzled eyebrow, “first of all, it's “easy, sir” and that'll be your last warning about that. Secondly, clever answer, lets see how it plays out.”

Tarn quickly punched the information into the lectern console. After a few moments of computation, the blips on the data-screen began to move. The fighter squadron broke in half, one group speeding towards a heated engagement with the Alsakan cruiser, the other curving off towards the freighters. The lumbering cargo ships themselves made a beeline for the edge of the system, reached it and then vanished from the screen, along with their escorts, as the leapt to hyperspace. The six fighters now remaining launched a volley of missiles at the cruiser, weaving in between the returning fire from the cruisers slug batteries. The missile-blips impacted on the bright red oval and it began to flicker darker and darker until it extinguished. Meanwhile, the Alsakan escorts had caught up with the Republic fighters and were dogfighting furiously. Two Alsakan fighter-blips vanished, but all six Republic fighters went along with them. Danneth paused the data-stream. “Well, everything seems to be in order. The fighters fought hard and put a serious dent in the Alsakan force on this flank, giving the convoy ships they were protecting plenty of time to escape...I think you've missed something though.”

Danneth re-engaged the stream, setting it at a much higher speed and zooming out to take in the view of the whole battlefield. “Yes, your freighters made it out alright, but what about those ones in the center?” He pointed to a flock of blue blips huddled together for protection against the onrushing red. “Those fighters you failed to kill are going to turn the flank and make quite the mess.” Sure enough, as soon as they were in range, the Alsakan fighters released their own barrage of missiles which jetted towards the center of the now open Republic formation. Soon, blue blips began to vanish en masse. The rest of the green, holding the center and the right flank, was slowly pushed into a tighter and tighter sphere, while the red blips that remained were free to move about, launching volleys and hammering away with their guns. Before long, only a little green remained and nearly all of the blue had disappeared.

Suddenly, the screen froze, indicating an end to the engagement. “Looks like the Republic commander was forced to surrender...not so easy after all.” Danneth smiled, not spitefully, but in remembrance of his own impetuousness at that age...and rank. “Cadet, you did quite well, brilliantly even, but only in your zone of battle. Actually, you fell into a common trap: tunnel vision. You saw the problem of the freighters and the oncoming cruiser and solved it, but without realizing it, you opened a door for the even greater problem of a collapsed flank. Never forget, combat tactics are driven by the idea of local superiority. If your enemy gains purchase in one area and you fail to drive him out in another, ultimately, he will have his victory. Not a bad effort though, many cadets fail to even save the freighters under their direct protection. Lets run another shall we? Tell me, what's a combat situation you would feel the most out of place in?”
 

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Reed was amazed at the stupid mistake he made. As the green blips vanished one by one, he couldnt believe his eyes. "Hmm. Sorry. Sir. I guess i would be most out of place commanding a large vessel with an enemy stronger than me," Reed thought of all of the times he had fought other fighters, but never had he commanded many people on the same ship.
 

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Danneth raised an eyebrow at the proposed situation. Who wouldn't feel out of place when they were outgunned and outmatched?. He was hesitant to run such a simulation, Cabilla's dossier had made it clear that he was a fighter-pilot, first and foremost, and he didn't want to shake the confidence of the cadet by putting him in an unworkable situation. Still...just the suggestion meant he was willing stretch himself by going into strange circumstances.

“Alright then, we'll try something like that.” Danneth began punching keys again and the viewscreen resolved into the familiar starfields. A green oval appeared, larger than the fighter squadron but dwarfed by the red triangle on the opposite side of the screen. “You're in command of a Republic corvette, on patrol in the Expansion Region. You've just dropped out of hyperspace and low-and-behold there was an Alsakan frigate waiting for you. You have a flight of four fighters, to his six fighters and six bombers. He's keeping an eye on the hyperspace beacon, so jumping out instantly isn't an option. Orders?”
 
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Reed assessed the situation, "Hmmm. Well, the bombers are the main target. Have the fighters attack them. Afterwards, play a little defensive game with enemy fighters. Dont let anyone get too close to that frigate. Afterwards, have them make an all out assault. Thats what I would do."

Reed still sensed something wrong with the plan, but decided to go with it anyways. Lets see how this turns out, he thought to himself.
 

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A man who just walked into the room snickered. "Run the simulation." he said. He then motioned for Captain Tarn. After a short conversation Cpatain Tarn left and Reed Cabilla was left with this new man.

In the simulation Cabilla's plan went into play. His four fighters began in earnest to attack the enemy, and his corvette opened up some when it could. 2 bombers were nearly put down instantly, while the other four began to hide behind the fighters. These fighters attacked Cabilla's and during a breif dogfight, Cabilla's fighters came out the victor, but at the cost of half of the flight blowing up. The last two fighters then began a easy game of picking and killing the bombers. One bomber got through and landed a bomb that did little damage to the ships' overall integrity. It was shot down shortly after. The corvette and its final two fighters then went on the offensive, firing at the enemy frigate, damaging it beyond repair. The simulation then ended.

"Looks like your plan worked," the man in the back said," but don't get cocky about it." He walked up next to Cabilla, awaiting any questions.
 

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Reed looked at this new man. Confused, he asked, "Who are you?"
 

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"I'm your new instructor. Lieutenant Marley. And what is your name?" Hetat knew, but didn't let on.
 
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