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Though they had been there for a while, this was the first they heard about getting any action. Virginia and Rose were both nonplussed at the late arrival of their new Commanding Officer. Early was on time. On time was late. That's how the mantra went, but the "Hurry up and wait" philosophy always made itself prevalent in the military. As of now, Virginia was leaning back in her seat and taking turns switching between checking her eyelids for cracks and the ceiling. Rose groaned, slumped forward with her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands. Yes, how very quaint. Maybe the mission would be as boring as well.

Virginia Hilts, callsign "Maverick", was a shiny new First Lieutenant who had a reputation for her foul mouth as the dirtiest thing about her. She didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't even trade jabs when other pilots when she was the subject of one of their callous advances or dirty jokes. It was said that her name Virginia forever cursed her with celibacy. She was tall, skinny, had her locks of dark brown hair pulled back into a regulation bun (that she hated with a passion), and wasn't very stunning in the assets departments of hips, chest, or legs. Thankfully, she at least had some junk in the trunk to be proud of, even if the flight suit hid it mostly.

Rose Patterson, callsign "Mako", was a butter bar and a short stack. She had her hair short enough the be pulled into pig tails and not get yelled at for it. Her chest stuck out despite not being that much bigger than her partners, and her shortness caused the same thing around the back. When you don't have room to grow up, usually the next step is growing out. But usually she only got shit for being teeny tiny. That was most times her better alternative. She had gotten a lot of booster seat jokes, and "you must be this tall..." lines. At least she was the perfect height to sock someone in the bag. That happened only twice, though.

When the Major came in, both of them straightened up and paid attention. Finally, the ball was rolling. The mission seemed simple enough, leading to few questions. Virginia's hand went up, though.

"What's the ROE, sir? We gonna be out there on our own or will we get backup?" She asked in a thick Midwestern accent which annunciated and drew out the vowels in words.
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