You all slowly awaken, on cold metal, yours hands all slapped into binders. You seem to be in a large, austere room without windows.
A steady hum drums underneath you, suggesting you are on a ship. If that is the case, you are in a massive cargo bay or something of that sort, its doors sealed in both directions, red lights glowing from the access pads. You are all unarmed.
Troy, James, Trevor, Quincey, Lynn, you – well, yours characters – are all dressed in X-Wing pilot uniforms, though they are depleted of anything of value or offensive potential. Even your boots are gone.