Nicole was a little bit underwhelmed by the
tubby little aircraft bringing them to the carrier; while she'd had to work around COD Greyhounds before, she'd also assumed that they'd be making the trip out to the carrier using their Strikers, rather than strapped in between cargo pallets. Clearly she hadn't anticipated working with Land Witches when they sent her here. That said, given how her attempts to make an arrested landing had gone before, going in like this was probably a good thing.
"Thirty Seconds. Thirty seconds to trap." The crew chief's words brought her out of her haze. Remembering the quick briefing she'd been given, Nicole pulled down the goggles on her deck helmet, crossed her arms over her chest, and leaned right back in her seat.
Remember, Nikki, just breathe normally. She thought to herself as the COD swooped down onto the deck. There was an audible clang, then a jerk as the arresting wire caught, dragging the plane from a hundred and twenty knots down to zero in under three hundred feet. The shock of being thrown forward into her harness was still enough to drive the wind from her lungs though.
With a sigh, she released her harness and grabbed her seabag.
Well, at least they didn't have to use a barricade.