Rhona W

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

Erien looked up at the polite knock at the door and cut off her music with a tap at a control before calling out a clear 'come in'.
Nyx entered the room, and the Isorlai stood as she entered, waiting for her to take a seat before she did the same, moving to sit opposite her on the other sofa around the small coffee table.

"You told me to come, ma'am?" Nyx said, actually trying to be respectful. "I'm assuming its important because of your threat about the ship security."

"Actually," she replied with a slightly amused smile, "Given our last conversation, I wasn't entirely convinced you'd turn up if I didn't make it clear you had to," she said, the humour creeping into her voice as well. "Would you like some tea, lieutenant?" she asked, standing up to make a cup to herself, and talking as she prepared the drinks and placing one in front of the pilot-engineer as she returned to her seat. She held the mug in both hands as before, feeling the heat seep through to her palms, Her right felt it more as always. The prosthetic left hand was never quite as good, but she could still feel something. She considered her words before speaking, studying the human opposite. Graysons' words about her came back, and she also wound her mind back to what she'd read in Nyx's file before she continued.

"I think I might not have made the best first impression," she began, with a slight smile. "Boring lectures aren't especially my thing. And while I might be the C.O., I'm not exactly one for sticking to the minutiae of the rules either, believe it or not. I'm certainly no martinet, and from my experience in your position, I know that there's a lot of useless crap that goes out the window when you're in fighting conditions. Hell," she gave a dismissive wave and the Isorlai equivalent of a sneer, "most of the more fiddly crap in the book is there to keep us from going bored when there's nothing to do, and to practice muscle memory, to instill good discipline. Going along with all of it is much easier than making a fuss and getting in trouble," she said, taking a sip from her tea, before looking over at Nyx again and raising an eyebrow. "Although, walking away from me in the middle of a conversation was quite rude on a personal level, let alone a professional one, Lieutenant," she admonished with a slight chiding tone. The smile on her face remained, however.
She sat back and gave the pilot-engineer a critical glance as she did so, before speaking up once more.
"Let's get down to basics," she said after a moment. "I've dealt with Lieutenant Wallon. The way he blew up at you was unprofessional and discourteous. Not to mention dangerous in an environment like a fighter bay. And quite aside from that, if he had a problem he should've come to me first, rather than trying to take things into his own hands". She looked over the rim of her cup at the human, her eyes hardening a little. "Hangar bays really aren't a good place to sleep, Lieutenant Miles," she added with a more stern tone. "Admittedly, perhaps I should've given you a chance to rest before setting you to work, given the distance you had to travel. Nonetheless, if you feel you are unfit for duty for any reason related to health and fatigue, it's your responsibility to inform me of that; what if you'd made a mistake while working on someone's fighter that caused a much greater problem later on?" she shook her head. "Not that you need me to tell you that. Chief Grayson told me that your work was exemplary," she added. "Which brings me to another question for you, and what I want to say: You're quite clearly an excellent combat mechanic and engineer, and you could've graduated OCS in a fine position for maintenance. And had to deal with a lot less of the bullshit that pilots have to go through, if rules and regs are the thing that bothers you."
She tilted her head and gave a quizzical look to the female pilot. "I don't really care if you like me or not, Miles," she said evenly, and not unkindly. "I'm actually informed from reliable sources I'm not a complete bitch and that I can be a lot of fun, believe it or not," she added with an amused smile and a sidelong glance, before she continued. "I don't have a problem with you- No, wait, let me rephrase that. I don't want there to be a problem between us, and I'm pretty sure we'd all have a better time living in each others' pockets and working together if we got on with each other. So, how do I let that happen, while all of us remain within the regs and not have toolboxes kicked at you, or having to have meetings in my office with you. Or any more boring speeches", she added with a smirk.

***

Meanwhile, in the hangar bay, one of the engineering staff had approached Chief Grayson after seeing the odd sight of Elik setting up a picnic next to his fighter, and beginning to fiddle with bits of machinery alongside it. Perturbed, and clearly recalling the order from Erien for the squadron's pilots to go into crew rest following their mess hall vist, the Cetanui approached the fighter and stepped up alongside the cockpit, leaning on one side of the cockpit with his boots in the toeholds on the side of the fighters' nose.
"Lieutenant," he began, "The hangar bay is a no food area. Too much chance of FOD and too many hazardous chemicals in the area as well. Also, food stays in the mess hall, in quarters, or the bar. Not anywhere else. And seond... didn't Major Bellioch order you into crew rest? Or don't you wanna be flyin' when the order comes out". He looked at the bow and frowned. "An' also, personal weapons aren't permitted outta the armoury unless you're kittin' up for a mission. That's a pretty serious violation, Lieutenant... you better put that bow back, or at least take it up to the armoury if you're gonna mess around with it like that".

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

For his part, Richard sat to one end of the firing range, close to the lit barbeque grill. A folding table in front of him was covered with the paraphenalia of gun maintenance, along with one empty bottle of San Miguel, and a second he was working through. A cooler to one side held numerous other bottles for the rest of the unit to partake from. As the Israeli cleaned his Tavor, he whistled off-handedly as he sipped from the brown-glass bottle, squinting skyward to pick out the shape of the C-130, or peer at the antics on the shooting range alternately between cleaning his rifle.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

I did a POST!
It should have stuff to react to, although it mostly depends on you reacting with one another at this stage, for which I apologize. However, the next one I guarantee will get everyone moving. If not too many people post by sayyyy... Wednesday, I'll move right on with the post-jump.

Also, forgive my spelling or other mistakes; it's the end of the working week and payday, and I may have consumed an entire bottle of wine this evening.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

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.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

Hmm... it seems things became a bit slow... may inquire what people have been up to?

@Natsucooldude

A combination of my artistic muse speaking to me for once, and taking care of day to day business. It's Friday tomorrow though, which gives me more time to do things. I should be able to get a post up with the extra time.

Task Force Echo (A Special Forces RP)

I've got an idea for one, I'll get it up tomorrow!

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

Hokay, post is up - mainly it's a short one addressing what's going on in the hangar bay to begin with. As soon as I get a reply, I'll also add mine with a bit more to go on for everyone else too. I'll have Erien also talk to Nyx separately too in another post :P

I've added a new link in the opening post of the OOC in the game information section which has a lot of background info on the kind of training fighter pilots undergo, the kind of missions they perform and what their day-to-day routine is. It's based heavily on modern-day fighters pilots for reference (as that's all we really have to go on!) and I've used links to assist where necessary. Hopefully that'll help with understanding how DefCom functions, and what our duties and way of life in character will be like, and the kind of things our characters should know about and be aware of in their role.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

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.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

Guys, I'm just going to point out - while you may have specific skills in your fighters, what they carry on their hardpoints into battle on a mission will be handled the same way as it is in the real world; you don't get to cherry-pick and choose what you fly equipped with. It depends what the mission we have handed to us is. You won't always fly with the same set up from mission to mission.

Plus I like negative relationships too, adds depth

They're great, unless they're the only thing in a game, and we end up with everyone just squabbling and not getting anywhere. But that shouldn't be an issue.
And besides, there'd only be a certain amount of tolerance for it within the military too - if it got to the point where the unit was too dysfunctional to actually do any kind of work because none of us could stand to work together, then there'd be serious questions raised about it's ability and reliability to perform any kind of mission, and the appropriate punishments would be handed out (punishment details, removal of privileges, reassignment, etc).

Also, if none the characters could bear to work with people they didn't like, then none of them probably would have got through any kind of basic training, let alone becoming commissioned officers and then fighter pilots on top of that.

Working on a section for the opening post of the OOC with some more details about military life and organization and the IC post will follow soon after.

Shadows of Steel (Space Fighter Combat RP)

Sorry for the delay in getting the post up. I'll try and get it done tomorrow evening instead. Apologies for this unexpected delay.