Bankor

Lelia offered a tactical response, “They had more and bigger blasters than we did… I know that for sure… and gunships… and more blasters.”

"What can you tell me about the Gunships?" He looked up to Lelia, watching her, while listening intently.

"They are nimble and mobile, not space capable though. They use them to patrol the city quickly and usually pack powerful guns," she responded.

"We usually run when we see them."

He paused as he listened to the words. "Have any of them been taken down? Any weak points you could think of?"

“We don’t have that kind of firepower, road side bombs… but ground to air heavy weapons, yeah not happening,” he said.

“My ship has weapons but the collateral damage would be a little much.”

Durasay pursed his lips. With the Turtle down, that was more close air support down for the strike team. "That's good to know. At least with that, our strike team won't be caught off guard."

“Well I am sure the Mandalorians will find a way to surprise you,” Gena chimed in.

"I have no doubt of that. But one less surprise is still something." Durasay shrugged, then sighed. "We might just need to come up with a few surprises of our own."

Lelia got back to working on her craft, “Well we like giving surprises, so if we can help you know where to find us. I got the only working ship capable of going off-world… reliably, in this region.”

“Mando sleemos confiscated the rest.”

Gena added calmly, “Well I would rather we think before we leap, but as her unofficial first mate, I am in too.”

"Did they destroy the other vessels? Or just impound them?" Durasay thought back to what he knew of Mandalorian war tactics. They seemed adept at invading worlds. Less adept with holding territory and using resources effectively. At least, he had heard that somewhere.

“Impounded them at the space port, we have tried to liberate them… more than once, lot of funerals. I think that was the point though, dangling something we want so they can kill us,” Gena responded.

A flash of anger passed through his mind. So much for honorable combat. That's bringing people into a shooting gallery... He looked away for a moment, tempted to push the anger away.

Let it flow through you. Channel that anger into something productive, into something you can use as a tool... The words of his Master floated through his mind, as he balled a hand into a fist. Focusing it, channeling it into the drive to take down his objective. "That will have to definitely be given consideration by our strike forces. To stop their air superiority, and take our own."

"That's your department, Republic-man, we have put enough bodies into that grinder," she said from her perch.

"I wouldn't ask you to throw more meat into the grinder." He turned up, keeping his gaze on Lelia. "You all have shouldered the burden alone for too long. We're here for some heavy lifting." His demeanor serious, yet wanting to show the sincerity in his words, and the actions of the Republic.

If he wanted to gain the trust of the Resistance for the Strike Force, it would have to be done on an individual basis, hearts and minds.

And if this woman is the one that he had heard about through the Force, then perhaps, speaking of it at length, too.

“Good because I am not volunteering for that mission,” Lelia called out.

“No profit in being murdered.”

“We don’t make any profit… we have not actually been paid for the services we have already provided,” Gena retorted.

He laughed. "My crew would like you, you've got the right attitude for them." Then another sigh. "Maybe you could match your ship up against ours... when it's finished getting repaired." And then he looked back to Gena. "Well, moral rewards are their own thing, too. I'm the kind of idiot that does things for wanting to do the right thing, too."

“Playing the long con, GeGe… the long con, our ship will one day come in, trust me,” Lelia replied.

Durasay Mixo wrote:He laughed. "My crew would like you, you've got the right attitude for them." Then another sigh. "Maybe you could match your ship up against ours... when it's finished getting repaired." And then he looked back to Gena. "Well, moral rewards are their own thing, too. I'm the kind of idiot that does things for wanting to do the right thing, too."

“I like eating and being able to put meds on my shelf,” she replied calmly.

“Moral victories don’t buy kolto.”

Durasay made a note of the nickname Lelia used with Gena. Then he nodded. "Well, that is true. You can't do the right thing if you're hungry and you don't have the supplies." Pausing, he brought a hand to his chin. "I can try to see what I can get released from the Strike Force to you to help on that front. Maybe get you in contact with the Quartermaster."

“Republic-Man to the rescue, and if they got any fancy dresses from Coruscant… send them our way…” Lelia added.

“For science.”

"I'll see what I can do on that front, Lelia." He smiled easily, then offered a bow of his head to both ladies. "Well. Hopefully we'll be speaking more frequently while I'm planetside." His yellow-amber eyes focused on Gena. "Should you, either of you, need anything, just come track me down at the Encampment. I should be pretty easy to find."

Lelia gave a fairly exaggerated salute and said, “Will do Republic-Man, and good luck out there.”