Erien had taken a seat on one of the couches in the common area of the suite. She sat long, rather than tall, laid on one side like a cat or dog, paws dangling over the edge of the couch, her fingertips tapping idly and the tip of her tail flicking in quiet amusement as she watched her squadron sort themselves out. Silently, she noted their responses and actions; learning about their personalities and how active or reactive, how decisive they were or not, would all be things she'd take note of and find of interest when ordering them into action and handing out tasks for them to do later.
Kilian took a seat nearby and spoke up, and she looked over to him as he did so.

"This room is now full. Is that okay Major Erien?"

"Of course," she replied with a nod. "Good job on getting it done quickly and efficiently," she replied. The Isorlai quietened and cocked one pointed ear to listen as he spoke with Miles, the female human, taking a note of their conversation with interest. At her rather dismissive description of the ground crews whose job - and pride - it was to fix and look after the squadrons' craft, she felt the need to interject.
"Sorry to say, but you're going to have seriously adjust your expectations if you plan on spending your time doing maintenance on your own craft, Lieutenant Miles," she replied with a firm, but not cold tone. "For starters, you won't have time when you're on a flying schedule; crew rest id mandatory when we're on a flying schedule, and spacecraft maintenance doesn't count as rest", she said with a hint of amusement. "And as a second, the ground crews who maintain our craft have spent as much time - more, probably - learning their trade and becoming experts at as we have learning to fly and fight. Not trusting them to apply that knowledge is... well, it's kind of disrespectful. They're just as attached and invested in our craft as we are. Making sure those fighters perform to the best they can, and are able to perform the mission and bring us back alive is literally all they work for." She paused her tail curling as she considered her words, and Nyx's comments about her background. Her tone softened a little as she continued.
"I understand you may have had to do things differently before. But now you're here, and in an operational squadron, we do things differently. Don't get me wrong, your experience is absolutely an asset... but this is a different way of life to adjust to, not just a job".

She turned away as she heard Fendric speak up from his room.

"We got a duty schedule up yet, or not yet?"

"Not yet," she called back, raising her voice so that both he, and the rest could hear. She slid off the couch and padded around the room as she spoke. "Once we leave the station, the ship will switch over to a day/night schedule that'll correspond with our destination to acclimatise us. Our duty schedule will follow along with that also. There's no word on what our mission will be once we get through the jump; I haven't heard much down from higher up the chain so far. All I know right now is that we need to be ready to go ASAP."

As if to underline her remark, the overhead speakers came to life with the voice of the ship's AI and the chime to signal an announcement.
"All personnel, stand by to leave dock. All exterior hatches and loading ports are now closing. Umbilicals and power transfers disconnecting. All crew stand by your departure stations until we are under way".
The chime sounded again to end the announcement, and slowly blinking yellow lights lit up to indicate the change in status.
"All right," Erien announced a moment later. She paused as a rumble ran through the deck plating and a hum built up as the engines came online and spooled up to power. "A few more minutes, and we'll be free to move around as normal".
There was a brief sensation of movement, only feint. Erien unclipped her toggle from her belt and moved over to the screen on the wall. Attaching the device to the screen, she tapped the touch-screen holographic icons and an external view from the ships' cameras and sensors came up. The docking arms of the station slowly slid away, and the bright arc of the planet below began to grow smaller. As soon as the ship was clear of the station, the image grew smaller at a greater rate as the sub-light engines fired. She looked as though she was about to speak up, but she paused as the overhead speakers came to life and the status lights changed.
"All crew, this is Captain Garrett," a strong female voice unheard so far declared over the PA system. "We are clear of Mirchusko station and under power. We will be initiating a 12-hour hyperspace jump in two hours to the Telleri System, where we will be commencing our duty on station. All orders, duty assignments and briefings will be issued before that time. As of now, we are on full duty patterns. Refer to your CO's for further information, standard access is restored to all crew as per normal operations. Captain Garrett, out".
Erien shut down the toggle as the declaration from the ships' captain ended, turning back to the squadron.
"All right, you heard the Captain" she said firmly, turning around to face them, standing on her hind legs once more at her impressive height. "We have fourteen hours to get ourselves ready for whatever might be waiting at the other end of the hyperspace jump; we don't know if we'll be flying right away yet or not, so we have assume we're going to be. That means we have a lot to do in that time, and that includes a decent amount of rest, too - we can't fly a combat sortie if we're not within acceptable parameters for crew rest.
"I'll show you where the important parts of the ship are, but the rest you'll have to find out yourselves; you'll have access to the ships' internal net and there's full info on there. Also, you can always ask the AI if you're lost. In the meantime; follow me".

She turned and lead off on all fours once more. She pointed out the colour coded lines on the floor and on the walls at the end of each line. It was like a large hospital in a city, and served the same purpose. They marked the different sections of the ship and its' facilities, and lead to each. Blue for the residential section of their quarters and those around them (which also included laundry facilities, and the exercise areas), red leading to the hangar and associated facilities (such as the life-support shop for their flight gear, and the armouries), yellow for the medical bays, purple for the mess hall and recreation areas, and green for engineering and the ships' life support and environmental sections.
Most inter-deck access was via ladders and stairs; they didn't break down in emergencies. Elevators were restricted for cargo or emergencies.
Erien also explained that during a ship-wide combat or emergency situation the two main corridors running up the port and starboard side of the ship became 'one-way' flows to avoid hold ups in moving personnel around; if there was an emergency like a fire, or a casualty that needed an emergency medical team, people in the wrong place could hold them up for valuable seconds.
Explaining this as she moved, she showed them to the briefing rooms on the same deck as the hangars and vehicle bays. There wasn't one specific to the squadron, but it was important to know where they were ahead of any forthcoming missions.
After that, she took them down a deck and showed them the recreation areas and mess hall. As well as the canteen-style dining area - which was much neater, cleaner, brighter and modern than many other such facilities - there was a small but cosy bar, which was closed currently and had restricted hours, due to being aboard a serving ship. There was also a small swimming pool, a small but well-stocked Exchange store, and a lounge with a large viewport open to space. Erien explained that, during combat situations, armoured shutters covered the viewport.
"And that's it for the moment," she said firmly. The tour had taken them the better part of an hour. "Now, first things first, I think we need to sort out our fighters. That will take the longest time out of anything we have to do, so we need that done first. Look alive, let's move."

In the hangar bay, the white-furred Isorlai lead them through the crowded space of the hangar to the area their fighters were parked in. The Sabre fighters were parked close together, in two rows nose-to-nose. Umbilical cables plugged into numerous access panels and service hatches hooked them up to diagnostic equipment, while techncians, engineers and support crew went about the maintenance and prep for the craft, often elbows, or even waist-deep into the service access or engine tunnels.
A large and powerfully-built Cetanui clad in maintenance gear atop his encounter suit turned to face them as they approached. His cool grey eyes roved over the group, and a nod of recognition passed as he saw Erien, the Isorlai standing upright once more as they came face to face.
"Major," he said with a low, rumbling voice. "As you can see, we're running well here, but still a little behind. The fighters came straight from depot-level deep maintenance. Flight hours have been reduced to extend the aerospaceframe lives, avionics have been bought up to current standards, they've had a full re-wire and restoration on their electrical systems. Four of them had engine replacements as well." He grimaced and pushed back the cap on his brow with a grunt. "They were delivered crated, so we've got 'em back together. Now it's just a case of returning 'em to flight-ready status. And of course, adjustin' em for all of you individually. Which I take it is why yer all here?"
"Right," replied Erien. "We'll perform the calibrations now." She gestured to Masaryk and Miles. "These two pilots of mine are also skilled with aerospacecraft maintenance; Lieutenant Miles especially. They can aid with getting things up to speed. As for the rest of you," she called out, raising her voice a little over the clamour of power-tools, deck vehicles and shouting voices. "Pay attention a second" She turned to Grayson. "Do we have assignments for each craft?"
"Yes M'am." he raised his arm and activated a holo-screen, and began calling out the assignments for each pilot to a fighter, pointing out where they were in the two lines.
"All right," Erien called out. "The maintenance crews on your fighters will take you through calibration and set up of your fighters. Work with them to get everything set up." She grimaced. "We probably won't get flight-time to do any live tests, so we'll have to get it all right as we can in the hangar and trust the rest to luck and good fortune... and hope we don't get into trouble straight out of the jump. Or if we do, that we're not called on first thing. All right, let's get to it".

Erien made her way to her fighter; like the others many of its' surface panels were still removed as it's internals were checked and re-checked, or final components installed. As the Isorlai approached, the crew chief for her craft introduced herself. The Syreen had a small, sleek frame that had a human-like appearance to it, despite her shimmering metal skin. She gave the white-furred Isorlai a full overview of the status of her machine, before measuring her quickly with built-in sensors. Climbing up the side of the fighter, she leaned into the cockpit with another crewman and began to adjust the seat to fit her frame, adjusting its' fit so that it would hold her securely against G-forces, and also cradle her large frame correctly in the event of an ejection. If it wasn't adjusted properly, it could be dangerous.

When they had entered There crew quarters James nodded in appreciation. The place looked very nice and comfy. After there squad leader had given her little tour. Most of his squad mates had already picked a room. James decided to pick the room that had not been taken by anyone else. He did this because he liked to smoke and he didn't want to annoy anyone with the smell it brought. He took the bunk on his right and started unpacking his bags. Most of the stuff he unpacked where where things that was required for such a ship. Some clothes, shampoo and small things like that. However he had brought a little reminder of home. It was a small photo of him and his family when they where on vacation. It was nothing big but it reminded him of home. And beside that a pack of cigars given to him by his father. They where pretty big and there where about 10 of them. He frowned as he saw that he could put his picture anywhere. He shrugged as he just put it in his drawer that was under his mirror. He would also put his cigar's there. After having placed his other belongings he simply lay on his bed and waited. He would have time to talk to his other team mates. But right now he just wanted to relax a little.

His relaxing was short lived as there squad leader had called them up to begin the tour through the ship. So he stood up and followed the rest.
The ship looked in perfect condition and the swimming pool was a nice touch as well. Then they finally arrived at there fighter bay. After a brief introduction James was assigned his fighter. He walked over to it and then saw his chief of the crew that would be making sure his ship did not explode. The chief was an old human at least 50 years old. The man was somewhat small. And seemed to have had many accidents. One hand was entirely cybernetic and his other hand had a few cybernetic fingers. His face had a few scars here and there but what creeped James out was the cybernetic eyeball. It had a little laser light shooting out of it and looked fairly creepy. James ignored this as he walked over to the man
and suck out his hand." The name is James nice to meet you." The man looked at the hand for a moment admiring the cybernetics of it before shaking it." The name is Fletcher mate." He then quickly turned around and looked at the ship."Well then enough with the pleasantry's lets prep your bird then shall we?" He spoke with a light Scottish accent which sounded very amusing to James. He then walked with Fletcher towards his ship took a moment to observe its beauty. Fletcher grinned as he looked at James admiring the ship." I seem you have already fallen for her charms?" Do you have a name for her already?" James thought for a moment as he looked at his fighter." I'm thinking of calling her The cannon fodder. If that's alright with you that is?" Fletcher laughed at the name and nodded. James then started climbing into his cockpit. His seat was comfy which was a godsend for sure.He then started calibrating his ship making sure everything was nice and easy. The interface was easy to control and responded very quickly. He then heard Fletcher say something at him."Oi James would ya mind turning on the engine for a but. I need to see if it's a hundred procent." James turned his engine on and quickly the whole ship shook a little." Ah i thought as much someone forget to clean the damn thing." Fletcher then looked at one of his technicians with an angry look on his face. The man gulped and started to clean The ship's engine. After at least ten minuets James tried again and this time the thing roared nicely.

Kilian listened closely to what Miles said and looked calmly at her then he promised himself to actually get more information about Borlix. When she said she had been a pilot for an hour he flinched and then laughed a small amused laugh. That he had not been expecting but hey it could be plausible. But she must have been pretty good during her training to be chosen for this assignment. Kilian did find Nyx quite amusing and he did look forward to working with her. He was a bit confused about her officially being a pilot for just an hour but not worried really, when Erien spoke up about the crews competence and skills he just nodded slightly. But he understood that pilots almost did not want anyone else to touch their crafts so nothing got changed in settings or balance of the craft, but at the same time you needed the crew to take care of your craft when you had to rest between missions. Then the rumbling started and the familiar feeling of movement he had been attuned to and they where off.

As the captain spoke his demeanor changed visibly and he listened very closely to what the captain had to say then as Erien called for the tour of the ship Kilian looked at her and winked again before taking the spot as the last member of the squad just feeling like walking behind and watching every member a bit more. It seemed quite easy to be able to find your way around the ship from what their colonel said and that felt good. Still he thought some rest would be a good thing for him soon. But as they went to the hangar to check on their fighters he gained a bit more energy and smiled.

As Erien presented the Cetanui Kilian looked at the man and nodded before his gaze strayed to the fighters again. He listened with half an ear until they came to the assignments of fighters. He made sure he knew which was his and when they all got permission to head to it he walked to it and climbed up into the cockpit before the crew working in it had time to talk to him. When a male Cetanui and a male terran climbed up to the cockpit he told them how he wanted the settings for his seat to be after introducing himself for them the two engineers. As they began working on setting up his fighter together he told them to arm it for long range fights. He wanted to be sure that he had only long range missiles aside from the railgun and particlecannons. But those he wanted tweaked and set for extreme range fights. Kilian then looked up and looked around towards the other pilots working with their crew and fighters. His eyes stopped on Erien and he kept looking at her for a while before the Cetanui came up and asked him to pull up the HUD for his fighter so they could calibrate his sight to match his movements and reactions. So he had no more time to look at the other pilots and where now fully engaged in making sure everything was set up almost as perfect as he wanted to without being able to test fly.

Gurjan heard the commander call everyone to the common room. His bag was still half unpacked, so he just picked it up wholesale and stuffed it in one of his bed's closets. He would finish it later, preferably while the ship wasn't transitioning to sub-light travel. He buckled himself in one of the seats and silently awaited permission to move about again. There was the usual feeling of displacement as the ship's artificial gravity adjusted itself. It always made his insides tingle just enough to be noticeable, but not uncomfortable. Or, to put it another way, strangely relaxing.

The tour of the rest of the ship was short and to the point, just the way he liked things. Everything had its own assigned color... Everyone knew where to go. He found it quite exemplary how well the ship operated even while a hundred people were walking to a hunred and one different places to get a hundred and two things mission-ready. Yes, he quite liked this streamlined efficiency... It helped him feel in control.

And then they came upon the marvels of modern technology that they would be flying. Even laid bare and with engineers crawling through its insides, the sabre figthers had a certain stoic elegance to them. He made his way to his own assigned fighter, his engineering crew hard at work creating order from the chaos of loose parts strewn about... Well, they weren't really strewn about randomly. Gurjan knew enough about starship engineering to see there was some system behind the arrangement, but he hadn't ever been able to figure out the reasoning behind it for the life of him. These weren't just the simple tools he had grown up around either. The figther contained a thousand parts... and a single one of them fitted the wrong way could result in a deployment ending in a blazing fireball before the hangar was even cleared. Hopefully, these people were competent enough to not let that happen.

“Alright, which of you is in charge here?” Gurjan asked curtly. The crew looked up from their work, were silent for a moment, and simply got back to work. All except for an Ellori holding a checklist. Gurjan took a moment to gauge the man. Grease stains and calloused hands... He wasn't afraid to do dirty work personally... Steady and confident expression... He seemed to know what he was doing. Not a single hint of bitterness from his subordinates... This man had been heading this crew for longer than today.

“Pilot Wallon, good to see you arrived safely” The Ellori held up a hand “ Chief engineer Ferron, at your service” Gurjan looked at the open hand, hesitated for just a short moment, and shook the engineer's hand. “Yes, we ran into some red tape on the way... Haven't even had the chance to unpack my bag yet... Or sleep for that matter.” He glanced at the figther to their side. “Well then, shall we get to calibrating?” He made his way into the craft's cockpit and wormed his way into the seat with some difficulty. It seemed the seat's legroom would be the first thing to be adjusted.

As it turned out, calibrating an aircraft was a protracted and dull exercise. First came the things that made sense immediately, like adjusting the cockpit's seat and making sure all the ship's controls were mapped out correctly. Then came the somewhat dull but nevertheless necusarry things, like test-firing the engines and checking every system and subsystem, as well as the things only an engineer would think of doing, like running a full system diagnostic on the off chance there was a software error somewhere. By the end of it, Gurjan felt as tired as he normally was after an actual flight. He also felt a newfound respect for the engineers diligence. He unbuckled from his figther, climbed out, and leaned against its side to see what the rest were doing.

She then went on to explain about proper procedure and how the pilots had to get rest but she didn't get it. Those pilots went to school and sat there in their classes and read their books for a few years then went to fix planes. There weren't any books, unless you ended up showing dedication, and even then you read on your own time. For everyone else it was just something they did for a job, for Nyx it had been her escape, her only way off world.

Honestly, it irritated her that Erien didn't understand that. Nyx stood and moved to the kitchen while letting Erien drone on about responsibilities. Nyx would respect them when they proved that they weren't a bunch of slackers who played with parts like they were those wooden blocks she'd heard so much about. Nyx pulled out a water bottle and a granola bar, missing the end of Erien's speech. Something about a lifestyle change?

What part of, 'I've officially been a pilot for about an hour' didn't entail that she didn't know what she was doing?

Nyx heard the alert about the ship's power systems getting underway and felt a pang of sadness at not being able to see it from engineering. Still, it was just her past experience of being a techie and it wasn't a big deal. She'd only been a pilot -she checked the time again- for exactly an hour now. Perfectly forgivable if she wasn't sure about this yet.

So, fourteen hours to get ready for whatever happens next. At least most of that would be sleep and calibrations. Nyx could stay busy before the mission while she tried to keep her mind off of her sudden realization that she could very possibly die in one of these missions. The color coding system was mildly confusing, but she figured she'd spend some time with the AI to get used to the whole ship. The tour was long enough for her to at least get used to where she could walk to get to various places, but it still wasn't entirely clear yet.

Finally they arrived at the hangar bay. Erien told Nyx to go off and help with the planes and off Nyx went to the plane that was without anyone working on it at that moment. She began to dig around in the guts in the Sabre, familiarizing herself with the layout and starting on the major and obvious things. Soon, an Ellori walked up on her, surprising Nyx enough for her to hit her head on the ship.

The Ellori looked as new as someone could look. No callouses, a few nicks and scrapes on her hands but nothing that would build into callouses yet. In fact, Nyx was willing to bet she was checking off parts on that clipboard so that she could do it systematically. Nyx decided that it would be more effective when they had to struggle for all the parts.

"I-I'm sorry miss! But what are you doing in that ship? It's not space-flight ready yet." The smaller Ellori asked.

"I know, I'm Lieutenant Miles, I'm here to help you guys get back from being behind. So, this one of the other squads or..." Nyx trailed off as she wiped her greasy hands on her pants to offer at least a semi-clean handshake.

"It's yours, ma'am."

"Right. Anyway, we're still missing the-"

"Hyperspace booster, I know I was just going to get it so I'd have all the parts before I began."

"Here's the deal, you get the parts, I install. That way we can get this done quickly, and we can move on to better things."

"Yes, ma'am."

They made quick work of the ship, even taking the time to run through the calibrations to make sure that everything worked and that Nyx would be able to feel out the ship when mission time came. Nyx felt the ache of sleep seep into her bones, but tried to power through it, she had to finish this task first. Of course, it wasn't long before Nyx fell asleep underneath one of the Sabres. The Ellori decided to work around Nyx, letting the tired Terran get some sleep in before the mission.

Elik nodded toward Gurjan and was about to look through the bag for the pills he'd asked for when Erien spoke from the hall and the PA sounded shortly after to announce their departure, Gurjan had through his bag into one of the closets and headed out and Elik followed out just behind him. Rather than buckle down in one of the seat like Gurjan had however he simply stood as the ship began moving. The rumble of the engines and the movement of the ship jumping FTL made him smile, those slight feelings meant a lot to him, he'd lived his whole life on ships and those feelings, however slight, still gave him comfort. Needless to say he was smiling.

Elik followed along with everyone else for the the rest of the tour, keeping note of only a few places as they went till they got to the hanger to see their fighters. Once finding out which of the fighters was assigned to him he made his way toward it, completely missing the engineer that was suppose to help him with the calibrations. He climbed up onto the side of his fighter and stuck his head into the pilot's seat looking over the systems before hopping off and walking around the side, inspecting it's state. The engineers seemed to be shorthanded and his fighter still needed some reassembly. Elik silently fell into helping the mechanic with his fighter, making short work of the remaining assembly, not that it was even much to begin with. Once their work was finished the mechanic, whose name Elik found out was Johan he was a rather unassuming young human, started off to his next task.

Elik stood there for a moment and decided he knew ship systems well enough that he could perform the calibrations himself later and adjusting his seat could wait as well. He went after Johan and caught up with the human, offering to help him catch up on his workload. Once Johan nodded his acceptance of Elik's offer the two were soon working on the next fighter down the line, idle conversation striking up as they worked. Meanwhile back at Elik's fighter the Engineer meant to help him still paced, growing a bit frustrated with his wait for the pilot he's meant to assist. eventually wandering away from the fighter to deal with something else.

Elik and Johan eventually came to a Sabre already being worked on by an Ellori and set to helping her finish with the fighter. Elik went to check the underbelly of the fighter and, after a short moment in which Johan chuckled at the sight of the seven foot Aranok slipping under the fighter, came across Nyx. He recognized the pilot from earlier though they never actually spoke. right now though he wasn't quite sure how to deal with her, or whether he just shouldn't even disturb her. He wound up gently prodding her side and murmuring "Excuse me" and waited for her reaction.

Elik's gentle prodding caused Nyx to not only try and sit upright, but attempt to elbow strike the Aranok as well. Nyx laid back onto the floor, holding her face for a moment, unable to determine if she'd hit him or not. Nyx made a quick check and nothing was broken, at least. At least Erien hadn't seen Nyx's little nap under the Sabre, Nyx thought to herself.

"Sorry about that. I didn't hit you, did I?" Nyx asked as she moved herself out from under the fighter. "Those old habits are gonna die hard, but you just need to say my name, I'm a pretty light sleeper. Uh, forgive me for being rude, but I don't remember your name."

She just hoped she'd have enough time to properly rest soon. Erien had a good point about the resting period, because if Nyx had fallen asleep during a fight, it would be a problem. Nyx also realized she needed a hobby, because Erien was certainly not going to let Nyx fix planes to unwind.

For now, she had to focus on the giant Aranok that had woken her up. He didn't look like the other one, and he hadn't reported her or yelled yet, so she took it as a plus that he was probably cool with her nap.

"Also don't tell Erien about my nap. It wasn't intentional, I swear. If it was intentional there are better places to sleep, so being under a ship makes no sense the vents are better and you can fake searching for dead animals and that way people tend to leave you alone, but sleeping deep in the vent system is best because they don't look that deep in but you have to be careful not to sleep in there too long or they'll think you died in there -annndd I'm rambling again. I ramble when I'm tired. Also awake, but less so."

@Zetsuko

Asrial softly closed the final drawer in his bunk in which he had stashed his things, bag included. Taking a moment he grined slightly as he looked in detail at the bunk, the bed looked soft enough, a claim he was about to test when the PA came to life and the shipboard AI announced their clearing of the dry-dock. As he listened to the announcement, a twinge of nervousness rose in the Aranok's chest. Getting underway meant an impending FTL jump, as soon as they reached a good point of coarse. It wasn't that Asrial disliked FTL, or felt too uncomfortable as he was shot multiple times faster than the fastest natural thing in the universe. But every time a ship made a jump while he was on board, he couldn't help but feel slightly, thinned out, like too little butter on a overly large piece of bread. He felt this way the first jump he ever experienced, and was convinced that he would never truly be rid of the feeling, no matter how many jumps he went through. "Ah well, we cant all be perfect. Still might as well enjoy the time I have before then.." Asrial thought to himself as he went to lay down on the bed once more, hopefully with the ship being sparkling new just out of the dry-docks it wouldn't be too bad. But just as he was about ready to commit the PA came to life once more as the commander call the squadrons attention, and presence.

As he followed the group Asrial carefully remembered the lines and flow of the hallways, one step closer to not getting lost. which was a pleasant thought for Asrial to say the least . As they entered the hanger, he moved slightly closer to the group so that he was not swept up in the mass of humanity and assorted species that buzzed around the deck, still it was not that hard for such a large person the push his way through when necessary and it seemed that most walked around the pilots anyway. As they were directed towards their ships, Asrial found his eyes glancing here and their between the craft, till he spied the off paint colors of his saber's nose. With a large grin he walked towards it, deftly avoiding any engineers that were working on it. As he move to embark so the calibrations could be done, he ran his hand along the smooth metal, finding an odd comfort in it. Climbing in he shifted himself around and placed his hands on the controls, not doing anything but hold them there. Still grinning he ran through the check list with the engineers in charge of his calibrations, never truly looking away from the console.

Nick slept in a corner of the transport, wobbling gently as it made micro corrections as it neared the vehicle bay. The barely audible hum, and vibration of the ships engines acting as a welcome lullaby to the Isorlai spacer, promising safety and warmth with its constant presence. as the crew made ready to disembark, he grumbled and tucked deeper into his section, the dark uniform assisting in making the his curled form look much like an extra pile of gear, if one ignored a peek of ears and tail amid the lumps.

It wasn't until a while later that one of the people unloading the ship noticed him, and his gear in the overhead that they roused him.

"hey, don't you have some place to be? captain is gonna be pissed if you don't show up" the gruff terran said, shakeing Nick. This earned a miffed growl as Nick uncurled and sat up.

"one should not poke at sleeping Isorlai if they do not know them." Nick grumbled as he looked around. "good way to loose a hand." It was a warning, not a threat, that unfortunately held some truth with his kind.

"Isorlai should not sleep through the mandatory meet and greet with their superior officer." the crewman countered as he gathered the random equipment forgotten by the crew as Nick's mind finnaly cleared.

"there's that too." he said, quickly gathering his gear and slinking from the shuttle. after briefly talking to some of the other mechanics, he figured that his C.O. would most likely be showing the crew to their quarters. Mentally berating himself for sleeping through a landing, he set out at a decent lope, folloing the path given to him. a few moments later, he slowed to a stop, did his best to regain his composure, and stepped around the doorframe and into the room.

the overall scene was not a common on to nick, the C.O., which he had to guess was the female Isorlai lounging on the couch, based on her uniform, and general ease amidst the rush of pilots towing gear. Normally officers at this point would be impatient, and demanding that they fall in in 30. enough time to throw bags in lockers, arrange personal effects, and run into a rough formation. this was not the usual, and nick was uncertain. despite this, there was an introduction, and apology to make, and the sooner the better.

pounding three times on the doorframe and standing at attention, before saying calm voice, load enough to carry into the room. "Nicholas Cavernmaw, reporting to 'Wylde Fyre' Squadron as ordered." he paused a moment before addressing the colonel. "Colonel Bellioch, mam I apologies for my late appearance. I slept through muster, and apparently got passed of as a duffle bag, gave the unloading crew a bit of a scare."

unfortunately at that time the PA system keyed up, and changed the atmosphere, quickly stowing his gear in a free room, he returned and faced the monitor. in short, they had 14 hours to set up, shake down, eat, and sleep. following the colonel, the group eventually made their way to the hanger, and set to get their craft squared away.

Nick faced his craft, nodding to his crew chief, and listened as the male terran walked through what the craft had done to it after being uncrated. in the last few hours, they hade snaked all the wiring, and restrung it. the left engine had been swapped out, and every last moving piece had been greased and tweaked within an inch of its life. overall it was as factory new as possible. shaking his crew chiefs hand he thanked him for his groups work, and leapt up onto the ladder, peering into the cockpit looking for anything wrong, before climbing in. once seated, he strapped himself in adjusting things where he could, and requesting assistance when he couldn't. It took awhile, but without his pilot suit, it was as close as it could get, a short second adjustment and he'd be good to go.

Elik couldn't quite get out of Nyx's way quick enough when she bolted upright and caught her elbow to the time of his snout, narrowly missing slamming his head into the fighter they were under as well. He rubbed the tip of his snout as he looked back at Nyx, chuckling at the point when she admitted to her rambling tendencies.

"It's fine. I'm Elik. and I won't say anything"

He flashed a smile at her before shifting himself to sit a bit more comfortably and looking up at the fighter's panels "Vents can be good for a nap, I usually go there or the maintenance ways, though i've even slept in a hollowed out engine compartment" He reached up and started fiddling with some of the panels, removing one to check the parts behind it. His tail drifted along the floor, sweeping back and forth. "Fluffles put you on to help the engineers right? you don't mind me helping out as well, do you? I'm suppose to be working on the calibrations for my fighter, but it's something I can handle later"

@RainDash

Gurjan looked around the hangar, it seemed everyone was doing their jobs diligently, getting the figthers flight-ready. That is... everyone except two people, who he noticed were sitting around chatting. He thought about it for a moment... would the commander mind if he i? His own work was already done. He decided to go see what was up.

He didn't immediately speak up, instead hovering around them for a while, just enough out of sight for them to not notice him. It seemed the terran woman had been caught sleeping on the job, on its own, that wouldn't have really ticked gurjan off, but then the aranok expressed sympathy to her sentiments and started to discuss ways of sleeping undetectedly.

“I'm somehow rather sure the commander wouldn't like to hear you two discussing the optimal way of sleeping on the job...” He announced his presence, walking up behind the Aranok he now recognized as his roommate. “Though if you really want to sleep, I wouldn't recommend doing it in a high-traffic area like the hangar at all. You'll just be found out sooner or later and you'll be an accident waiting to happen.”

He set himself besides Elik, looking over the fighter being worked on. “Miss... I didn't catch your name, but you seem to be having some trouble transitioning into the life of a pilot.

@Zetsuko@RainDash

Nyx couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief at that she both hadn't hurt him too badly, and that he wasn't going to tell on her little nap. She did want to make good impressions, but so far she'd only made people dislike her more than they probably already did. She was a rookie on an exploratory team that was vital to the Alliance. Typically, that didn't tend to make friends if she straight out said that she had no idea what she was doing.

She hated not knowing what to do, she always had a plan, and now that she was here, it seemed like a stupid idea to even leave Borlix in the first place.

"No offense, but she's gotta be new to this too, right? It's not like she couldn't hear me when I said I've been up twenty-four hours. Then again, pilots do keep odd hours, at least the ones I met." Nyx replied to her helper. The Ellori went off to search for parts, and it seemed like she was getting faster at it.

It made her feel better when he also rambled about sleeping places and that it wasn't unusual. His was shorter, but he'd also had slept on the flight over to the Heart of Valour. Her better mood was shattered by the arrival of another Isorlai -it seemed that the species had a thing out for her-, this one who seemed to be a stickler for rules and hovering.

"As I keep telling people, I've only been an official pilot for about an hour and a half now. Though maybe you couldn't hear me with your head up your ass," Nyx said, mumbling the last part and looking away from the Isorlai. "But you don't have to worry about names because so far the only ones I care about Erien, Elik, and Killian. We can just refer to each other as 'asshole' or in my case when I refer to you I can call you 'asshat'. Also, I've been awake by my estimates twenty four hours. Naps are necessary for me to operate at peak performance, like Erien said. We need to rest before the mission starts and whatever."

There went another first impression, Nyx thought. At this rate they might as well dishonorably discharge me now. However, she couldn't say that he didn't have it coming. It was pretty rude of him to just butt in like that, and if he wanted to try and fix planes while barely awake that was his problem. Nyx meanwhile, would probably listen to her advice about resting up and go sleep for a while before coming back to help.
@Zetsuko @Natsucooldude

Of course, the little precious lady, rather than show some maturity for a change, decided to continue her whining. Gurjan didn't even really listen, her general tonewas more than enough to make her intention abundantly clear. “You...” He muttered “Perhaps your becoming a pilot was an administrative mistake, because judging by your atittude, you shouldn't even be fit to fly a paper airplane!”

He stood up, his hands trembling with supressed emotion, he was of a mind to start clawing her face off then and there... but no, that wouldn't do. He needed something else to vent on. With a swift uncontrolled swipe of his arm, he sent a nearby toolbox flying.” Yeah! I Just want to be nice and try to help you fit in, but do you want help! No, you just whine and complain like a spoiled child! I swear, if you can't even be trusted to follow orders, I won't be trusting you to watch my back. Hell, Until you show you're actually worth at least the time and money put into that figther, you're dead weight to me.” He gave the fallen toolbox a kick with his foot, it hurt himself more than it did the metal box, but a mix of pride and anger made him walk off without so much as a sound. He would likely get in trouble for this, but at this moment, he didn't care.

@RainDash

Nyx actually went pale at the flying toolbox. She thought that the military didn't function like that, and her back crawled at the sight of it. Nyx stood stock still until she was certain that she was out of eyesight, and held her hands together to try and stop their trembling. She wiped away the bleariness from her eyes and moved to try and fix another fighter. After about thirty more minutes of dropping tools because her hands were still trembling, she stopped and decided to go hide in the vents, a quick thirty minute nap and she'd go back to work.

Nyx went into the bathroom and searched for a movable vent hatch, and when she didn't find one she curled herself into the biggest stall's corner to sleep. However, her mind just barely succumbed to sleep, still racing with the idea of being the useless one on the team. She startled awake after a short time passed, the ghost of a nightmare haunting her.

She stood and exited the bathroom, still tired but less in danger of taking a nap and went back to work on the nearest available fighter. He was probably just angry at her for calling him out on his jerk behavior. The words to defend herself died on her tongue, and she wondered how long it would be until Eiren caught wind of the incident and she ended up scrubbing toilets.

Fendric had been busying himself running some diagnostics and simulations on actual hardware in the engineering bays. He was at the far end, running diagnostics on the SN/APY-19 passive radar array, a massive ventrally-mounted radar system that, with a lot of modification to the ventral missile tubes. He'd have to get Nyx to look into it later on. Poor girl was nowhere to be found, he'd long noticed. He needed to talk with her later on. He'd need to see about getting her and a team to see about dismantling two or three Sabre mounts and seeing about reconfiguring them to accept the large domes.

"Damn that woman," he cursed when he heard the commotion, seeing Nyx bolt from under a Sabre and head for somewhere. He muttered something rather inconsiderate under his breath about her.

Not that he could do anything about it now. He had work to do. And so he did it.

"Wallon!"he called, seeing the Isorla's outburst. He didn't care any for Nyx's little drama, but he knew that the Isorla beating down on her over it wasn't going to help anything. "If you're gonna storm off too, at least take these radome casings back down to storage, would you?" he put two long, ovular hemispheres as well as a long, straight length with rounded edges down on a cart. The nanocarbon-fiber was light enough to carry by hand, but they were bulky, large, and a cart would help in getting. "And see to it these get properly logged with the QM before you go. His inventory is a mess right now, and I don't want us to have a hand in making it any worse."

Fendric grumbled to no one in particular. He had two EWACS domes and countless other pod-mounted devices in states of disassembly around him as he did regular maintenance. "And where the fuck are the Window EMC pods I wanted to look over?" Scanning again, he found them.

"Never mind!" he called out to no one in particular once again. "Found them..." He wanted to play with the masking frequencies, see if he couldn't find a more effective and efficient power-band for them to operate on. It'd help cut down rather significantly on the attrition rate of equipment. At least, that was his hope...

@Natsucooldude

Erien had kept up a dialogue with her craft's crew chief as they worked on the adjustments to her fighter. The Syreen adjusted the seat, setting it correctly for the tall and lithe Isorlai's posture and build. Were it not correctly fitted, not only would her fyling being distinctly below par, it'd also be massively dangerous should she need to eject. Additionally, the stick and throttle were adjusted for the reach of her arms, and the displays and holographic touch-screens set for her particular build and reach.
With so many races involved in the League, the introduction of adjustable and modular cockpit fittings had been a necessity; it was more cost-effective than trying to fit separate cockpits for all of the different races, given the wide range of body shapes possible for any pilot. It did mean that a particular fighter ended up being assigned to a particular pilot for a whole tour of duty, but the ease with which the cockpit could be re-set meant that the 'spare' for any squadron could rapidly be set up if need be too.
Much like Nick, she noted with a great deal of appreciation that the Sabre was as responsive as could be. She hadn't had a chance to view her particular crafts' log yet, nor those of any of the squadrons' craft, but she'd known they weren't new machines and had come back from a depot-level rebuild. The crew had done wonders though, reassembling them from crates. Everything was trimmed and tweaked as close to the wire as possible, with only the last-minute fixes being what they'd needed assistance with.
More than satisfied, the Isorlai climbed down from the cockpit and exchanged thanks with the Syreen chief, who nodded in approval, and got back to supervising the last of the work. As she turned around, Erien witnessed the exchange between Nyx and Gurjan. Unsure of how it had started, but not willing to let it go on any longer, she headed in a beeline for the fighter at the center of the scrape, a stormy look on her face.
As she was nearly there, she saw the human female dart away, heading for the female head. Barely suppressing a snarl, she made up her mind to deal with them one at a time, instead singling out Gurjan.
As she stepped up, she drew herself up to height and eyeballed the other Isorlai with a thunderously cold and stony glance, flicking her eye sideways to Elik as well, before she spoke in a clipped, flint-hard voice.
"Lieutenant Wallon, Please explain to me why in the coldest pit, you are kicking Chief Grayson's tools around the hangar deck, and why Lieutenant Miles is currently hiding in the Head. And I want the truth, mister. No bullshit; we seriously do not have time right now."
She glanced aside to Elik and gestured sideways with her head. "Hel'kayik, go and see to your fighter. I'll speak to you later on."
She looked at the other Isorlai and waited for him to explain himself. She didn't tap her foot, didn't raise an eyebrow. Instead, she stood, arms folded and expression fixed with her eyes riveted to his face.

Gurjan's raging streak was ended by his commanding officer, staring a hole right through him. His angry swagger shriveled away like an ice cube in a blast furnace. He took a deep breath, slouched his posture, and thought about his words for a moment, eye contact remaining unbroken.” Sir, I was wondering why she seemed to have such a disdain for proper procedure... And it turned into an argument that got out of hand.” He was looking like a small cub that had just broken something now. “I... didn't feel like it would reflect well on the squadron as a whole to have one of its members so blatantly disregard the rules.” If he could shrink into himself anymore right now, he would. Then again, all but lying on the ground in fearful awe would probably get the message across well enough. "S...sir, that is all."

Elik didn't really even have a chance to say anything before things between Gurjan and Nyx got heated, ending with Gurjan storming off and Nyx visible shaken, Elik got up from underneath the fighter and was going to offer to cover for Nyx but before he could she ran off. Elik just went back to working on the fighter, alittle worried about Nyx, until he heard Erien's voice and turned around to see her standing infront of Gurjan and telling him to head off and see to his fighter. Elik quickly murmured and nervous "yes captain" despite Erien rank of major and jogged off back toward his fighter.

He got to it rather quickly and hopped up into the cockpit. The engineer that was meant to assist him had long since wandered off in his absence so he was on his own, not that it mattered, adjusting the seat to fit his large form was simple enough and he moved on to running through the systems, thankfully the engineer had left his pad, which Elik was now using to access the fighter's computer to run through the systems. He was slightly distracted throughout the process, still nervous and concerned about Nyx. once he'd run through all the basic calibrations he'd needed to he set aside the engineer's pad and started tinkering with some of the spare parts nearby as he waited for either the squad to be called from the hanger or Erien coming to talk to him, or whatever would be next.

Nick was wrestling with a particularly difficult calibration set with his tech crew’s assistance, attempting to match his eye movements to the cannons as he heard the ungodly racket. A cascade of tools and angry yells causing Nick to remove his helmet and slide down the side of his fighter. This, while a boring sit and wait period, should not have this much tension. Likely it was nerves about the first possible engagement getting to the crew, maybe a planet born anxious about all the metal and lack of trees. In either case, it could not stand.

Flexing his hands, he motioned to the techs that he would be back, as he looked towards the Isorlai and the terran as Gurjan berated the woman. While he would admit that most Isorlai had hot streaks and were temperamental, this was not acceptable. Walking forward he ran through his list of options. It was likely not his place to do anything, but nick had a history of walking the fine line of "rules and Regs"

He could back up Nyx, and tell him to back off, hoping it didn't escalate.
Or,
He could cut to the chase and strike him, but that could get him sent to the brig, which would be fine, if it wasn't for the possibility their drop out of hyperspace would be into an ambush.

What he could not do was ignore this, it just wasn't in him to look away.

Fortunately, the colonel was on Gurjan before Nick could take ten steps, her stance and aura dissipating technicians and floor crew without a word or gesture. It was her eyes that did it, the face was a mask of disappointment, but the eyes betrayed her true emotions. The glare demanded that this be dealt with quickly, and if it came to blows, would end brutally.

"Lieutenant Wallon, Please explain to me why in the coldest pit, you are kicking Chief Grayson's tools around the hangar deck, and why Lieutenant Miles is currently hiding in the Head. And I want the truth, mister. No bullshit; we seriously do not have time right now."
Nick knew that tone, visibly relaxing as Erien waited with all the authority as if she wielded the sword of Damocles herself. Confident that the colonel was in control, he backed quietly away, and continued to watch as Gurjan attempted to make himself as puddle like as possible before the C.O.

Nick felt small bit of contempt for Gurjan, marking him as a kind of bully. Having been bullied enough for being a spacer Isorlai, and therefore “tamed” or “soft” as a child, Nick despised bullies, and the fact that Gurjan shrunk immediately before the Colonel made it worse. It also marked him as a coward. After silently observing a few moments, making sure he wouldn’t need to break up a brawl, Nick returned to his fighter.

Erien eyed Gurkan coolly, not reacting with anger, or any strong emotion obviously, beyond the tip of her tail flicking in irritation. Her arms unfolded slowly and she put her hands on her hips and let out a slow breath.
"Discipline is my wheelhouse," she said slowly and patiently. "Though, I understand your reasoning and appreciate where you're coming from," she added, "even if I don't necessarily appreciate your... zeal". She frowned at the tools strewn across the floor and then nodded, as if deciding something.
"Once you're done configuring your fighter, then report to Chief Grayson to assist with clearing the squadron's hangar area of anything that can cause FOD*. Once he's satisfied, you can head to the mess hall, and break for crew rest, Lieutenant. Now, get back to work".
She turned away, having dismissed the fellow Isorlai. It was a good enough punishment; scouring the deck-plates for any loose objects that could get sucked into an intake, wedged in a gear well or otherwise impeded the operations within the hangar was tedious and time-consuming job. While it wasn't necessarily hard, it was boring, and would service as an adequate punishment for the lapse in decorum. Not to mention, given his boot to the toolbox, it was in line with the discretion itself.
Satisfied for the moment, the snow-furred Isorlai stepped over to Grayson. The Cetanui was studying a holo-screen attached to his toggle and looked over she stepped up next to him.
"How are we looking, chief?" she asked with interest, peering at the chart. "All in the green?"
"Most of the way there," the Cetanui rumbled in reply, rubbing his smooth chin in reply and lowered the screen to give her a better look. "Well, Major, everything looks... pretty damn good, if I'm honest. We're catching up, only final checks and closing everything up to do." He lowered his voice and glanced to Nyx, before speaking to the white-furred Isorlai. "And I hafta say; that one? She knows a thing or two. I ain't gonna tell you how ta run your squadron... but she knows her shi- er, stuff, m'am. You don't want her as a pilot? Please, send her to me and I can swear on all the Gods and Goddesses I'd be glad to have 'er. But as fer your fighter, they'll be ready when you need 'em, I can promise you that - my crews know their shi- uh, stuff" he gave a sheepish smile and she rolled her eyes before clapping him on a meaty bicep.
"All right, people!" she called out loud to the squadron. "You're done here; chief Grayson's team can handle the rest. We've given them the leg-up they needed. Fall out; head to the Mess Hall and grab yourselves some chow. Then you're all on crew rest until we come outta the jump. Get moving, folks".
She stepped aside and caught Nyx's attention with a wave and a sharp nod. "Lieutenant Miles, go grab some food, and then come by my office in our suite when you're done," she said with a nod, before adding in a much firmer and sterner voice; "And, that is not an 'optional' request. If you don't come to my office, I'll have ship security fetch you, understood?"

She idly chit-chatted with the Cetanui crew chief for a few minutes longer, shooting the breeeze and catching the scuttlebutt from the hangar-level personnel, before following her squad up to the officers' mess. She was as hungry as the rest, and truth be told, nerves were making it worse. Not knowing what was coming at the other end of the jump, coupled with her own minor anxieties about her first command were leaving her unsettled, and eating was a coping mechanism - especially for a predator like her.
Thankfully the mess hall was open and serving open rations for all. Not a full menu, but there were 'pick your own' sandwiches and snack-foods available. She piled a plate with cheeses, cold cuts and bread before finishing off with a cupcake.
Padding along with her plate, she found a table and settled in, glancing around.
The mess hall was always a barometer of the ship at any point in a deployment cruise. Right now, less than 12 hours out of port and with a crew who hadn't had time to mingle and know one another, the groups were obvious. Racial lines were blurred as ever within the League, but the divisions within personnel were clear - the blue suited pilots were in their groups, grey suited ships' crew in another and the green-bagged Marines within their own cliques, with only a tiny amount of mingling with one another at this stage. A blurring at the edges, almost.
She'd seen it before; the longer the cruise went on and the more the ship worked together as one unit and group, the more they'd intermingle and get to know one another - it'd take time, of course, but it'd happen.
Turning her attention away, she was distracted by the holographic screens floating above the crowd of diners. Split into four, they detailed the time until the jump on a countdown timer, along with a reminder that immediately prior to the jump the ship would be switching over to 'destination time' for where they'd be heading. Other panes showed an exterior view of the planet, now dwindled to a point of light behind them, and a series of blurbs about the upcoming social events aboard ship: contests for weight-lifting, dance contests, a karaoke event, themed food nights and movie nights all within the next week aboard ship. It reminded her of earlier cruises and deployments; of friends made and now off on other vessels and in other fleets and squadrons. Nonetheless, it felt like a reminder and something comforting, even if she was in a different place and seeing it from a different side than before. She wondered, idly, if any of her squadron would volunteer or step up to anything. She didn't have a handle on them yet - she'd had them under her gaze for less than two hours, though she'd known them from records and profiles for longer than that, for what that was worth. Learning how they ticked, and what their personalities were like would take much longer than a few short hours. Learning how to make them - or, coax and coddle them - into working together would be an incremental process, half deception and manipulation, half force of personality and confidence. Something, she thought to herself with a rueful, open-mouthed Isorlai smile, you are lacking in, dearie.
Banishing the thought with a decisive CHOMP on a slice of peppered ham, she finished the last of her meal, nodding to the others as she stood.
"Have fun on crew rest," she addressed any of them who were nearby. "I'm both happy and sad to inform you the bar is currently closed, as we have no idea what's on the other side of the jump, and we might be needed right away. And while it's not mandatory, I'd love to see you all get at least eight hours sleep so we're ready to kick the shit out of whatever might be waiting for us on the other side of this hyperjump if we're called on. See you back at our quarters," she said with a nod and a swish of her long white tail, before padding off.

***

Sat in her office, Erien leant back in her chair as she flipped between holographic screens floating in the air above her desk. A mug of steaming hot herbal tea flooded her nose with its' relaxing, comforting vapours as her ears were soothed by the classical strings and vocalsshe'd selected as she dealt with paperwork and admin, singing along softly in her own mellifluous tones, eyes flicking from screen to screen, reviewing equipment allocations, medical records, and any number of other minutiae that pertained to her role as a commander of men and women in combat.
All of it was above board so far; she had some concerns about Hel'Kayik; his lack of Academy training and experience could prove to be a problem when the shit hit the fan. Would he know how to react, know the skills, drills, training and manoeuvers that the rest of them had had drilled and practiced into them to be a fluid, working mechanism in combat? As much as she dreaded finding out, she'd have to see if that was the case. And if he fucked up... then he'd learn, quickly enough, that those who dragged the others down didn't last long when lives were on the line.

Especially your own.

Giving a grumbling growl that was the equivalent to a humans' groan, the Isorlai ran one clawed hand across her face, rubbing her eyes and picking up her tea to take a long sip from the cup. She'd done as much as she could; the squadron were as ready as they could be. Life support were as ready as could be with their flight gear, Graysons' people were taking care of their craft, and everyone's paperwork was a current as she could get it, without going to the departments aboard ship and doing it herself. All she could do now was turn in for sleep and get her own crew rest ahead of the jump. Which, she thought with a glance to a flickering timer on her desktop, Should be happening any minute.
As if on cue, the overhead speakers blared a short alert siren, and the voice of the ships' AI spoke up, as netural, but charming and feminine as ever.
"Attention, all personnel. Please be aware that the ship is now switching over to destination time; shipboard clocks and all networked devices will automatically update to +5 hours time. Any un-linked devices will need to be updated. Timetables and schedules will switch over on the next shift. 12-hour hyperspace jump will be commencing in t-minus five minutes. Countdown will be at one minute intervals until minus one minute, when ten-second countdowns will occur. All crew to secure for jump. All loose cargo and items to be secured, all crew to secure in acceleration stations until green light. Repeat..."
The message repeated once more, and Erien grimaced. Nyx should come by her cabin soon; the couch in her office was rated for acceleration, that would do as the jump would occur during their meeting, or so it seemed. She mused quietly; she was eager to speak with the female human. She wanted to learn more about her, and have a second chance to speak, as she felt she'd got off on the wrong paw with her, coming across as a martinet, rather than the proactive and eager individual she was. Hopefully she'd get a second chance to score her approval. Getting the confidence and understanding of her squadron was vital now. If they didn't support and understand her, then they'd never get far working together. Or at least, it'd be a hard road.
She took another sip of her tea, watching the countdown timer.
Any moment now...

She wasn't sure if she was referring to the jump, or the meeting.

*FOD - Foreign Object Damage, a real concern for operational aircraft. Refers to small objects being ingested into engines or otherwise causing damage to aircraft or spacecraft on landing, takeoff, or in other operations.