There were few things in the galaxy more desperate than a starfighter pilot deprived of a cockpit. Jaden had lost track of how many days he'd been serving on the Novgorod now, but it was many, and it was starting to get to him. There were fighters aboard, sure, but if there was some sort of protocol that allowed the Executive Officer to call dibs and go out on a joyride to sate his cravings, Jaden had yet to find it - and not for lack of trying: he'd grown so desperate in the last few days that he'd resorted to reading his service manual of all things, and had since adopted the possibly annoying habit of bringing up strange and obscure Alliance regulations as interesting factoids in conversation.

Now though, now there was a possibility of sating that need. Not quite scratching the itch, but at least he'd found a wall, and would be able to rub his back up and down against it, in the hopes that friction and fabric would do the rest. One of the two flying bricks that the Novgorod laughingly referred to as shuttlecraft had been badly damaged. Well no, that wasn't true. Both of the alleged shuttles had been badly damaged during some run-in with robotic lizards or some such - Jaden wasn't cleared to know all the specifics; just that it had happened before he came onboard - but the Alliance had only granted the time and materials to bring one of them back to operational status before they'd spanked the Novgorod on the ass and sent her off into the stars. While the alarmingly monikered Vomit Comet was as close to serviceable as it could ever be, the less imaginatively-named Shuttle #2 had been getting slowly worked on and tinkered with - Tinkered with, in fact; the chief engineer had made something of a pet project out of it - and was just now reaching the point where the mechanics had deemed it fit to fly.

Of course, they'd deemed it fit to fly a week ago, only to have the drive coil rupture and flood the landing bay with a plume of noxious blue smoke as soon as it tried to lift off for a test flight, so there was that.

That was the reason that Jaden had managed to maneuver his way into being allowed to pilot Test Flight: Take 2. He had argued that letting a more junior pilot fly the mission was a needless risk: Jaden had the flight hours and the experience to handle just about any sort of fault. Captain Quez hadn't entirely bought it, but he'd conceded none the less.

And then things had got weird.

Sure, Jaden could appreciate the wisdom in bringing an engineer along, just in case there was a fault that he couldn't fix himself, or otherwise compensate for and limp back to the ship. He'd half-expected it to be Commander Altink who'd accompany him, and sure enough the chief engineer had volunteered, but Cirr had ruled that letting two of the three most senior officers on the ship leave at once was a recipe for disaster. Regan had glared at Jaden for that, but both of them had been forced to agree. What no one had expected was Lyanie Quez volunteering to go instead, and while the Captain hadn't been entirely thrilled about that prospect either, the Captain's wife had got his way.

Suddenly, Jaden found himself not looking forward to his jaunt into space nearly so much. He didn't dislike the Captain's wife: he barely knew her, and that was the problem. Relationships between crew members were always weird, and there was a reason that the Imperial rulebook mostly forbade them; but in the Alliance things got lax, and weirdness happened. Jaden's brow furrowed as he contemplated the dynamic again. How did this work? How were you expected to work with a subordinate who had the option of turning your interactions into pillow-tak, straight into your Captain's tufted ears?

Rather than sigh, Jaden blew out the pent up breath in a series of rhythmic puffs, as his attention skimmed it's way across the console, confirming the pre-flight readouts for the sixth time, just in case.

"We fit to fly?" he called over his shoulder, hearing Lyanie rustling about in the aft cabin, the other side of the bulkhead that defined the aft of the bridge.