Bloody Nora, shot his ship to ribbons, it hardly was subtle to look at.
Still, he had a job of his own to do - it was increasingly obvious that the rebellion would need staff. Trained and experienced staff. People who could pass on knowledge to the young, brave, and impressionable types, and keep them alive.
So once again, he prowled the shipyard, looking for more ex-republic pilots. People he could trust to do the right thing.
Leadership to find which old spacer friends - plague setback: 1eP+2eA+2eD+1eS 0 successes
And once again, he failed. (0 hope points)
He was missing something, some clue about where they were gathering - too many of the spacers were either young, or old, people who had missed the war. Clearly he was looking in the wrong areas...
Stopping once again in the shade, he examined his hands contemplatively, the left traced with obsidian veins, the right still blue and healthy. Was this how he would die - largely useless?