"I-I know. It's not your fault, I got used to working while tired, and I figured it'd just be small jobs. But when you're laying down or just on autopilot you just... fall asleep. I try not to sleep in the hangar, but I was so excited that I just forgot to sleep before coming onboard. The regs don't bother me, I'm just not used to being so... regulated, if that makes any sense.
"Growing up, it was kind of easy to be ignored. I mean, there were just so many of us that every so often if one went missing, someone else would just replace them and life would move on. There was no investigation, or SOP, it just moved on and we were expected to find our way on our own. My whole existence boiled down to: find parts, fix parts, and not to get killed for good parts. So, now everyone has rules and tries to know where I am, and before it just wasn't like that, but I want to try and do it because I want to be a pilot. I've been an engineer my whole life, but I want to try being a pilot. But... if you want to reassign me, I understand."
@Silverwind Blade
Erien listened patiently and with interest. Her pointed face was a cool, but interested expression as she sipped her tea in thought. She made to reply, but was cut short as the AI announced the jump was in ten seconds. Wincing, she set her tea down as she patted the pockets of her uniform.
"Anti nausea pills," she explained. "I get moderately bad jump disorientation. If I have to jump solo in a fighter with a booster attached, then it's worse - but I get a shot from the doc if that's coming up."
She swallowed a couple of the pills with a mouthful of tea, and then laid out on the couch, bracing for the jump as the rumbling hum of the hyperspace jump drive spooling up reached up even into this deck, from the engineering section below and aft.
The countdown reached zero, and the world shuddered and split sideways. There was a moment like breath being held constantly; colours danced and blurred together like a double-exposed negative. For Erien, it felt like her insides were attempting to exit wherever they could, and she was being rolled around in five directions at once.
Then, with no preamble or warning, everything settled back into relative normality. There was the
slightest after-blur of movement, and a niggling sense of
wrongness on the edge of perception, but otherwise it was business as normal. A further announcement marked that the ship was now switching over to 'destination time' to be in synch with the planets' day-night cycle on their arrival, and as such was assuming a night watch status.
The interruption aside, Erien sat up straight once more, and returned to her tea, and their conversation.
"As I was about to say, before we were so rudely interrupted," she deadpanned; "I can see how this is a huge adjustment for you. But you made it through academy". She tilted her head as she set her cup down. "One thing I learned when I made it to full-blown pilot, and when I was in my previous squadron: you never stop learning. There's always something new, some way to get better. There's always new systems, new weapons, new...
something. And you can always get better at what you do, too". She looked over at the wall behind her desk. Most older squadron leaders or officers she knew had photos and other memorabilia on that wall; a shrine to themselves and their careers. Hers was, relatively speaking, only just beginning. There wasn't much of an 'I love me' wall to assemble yet. Plus, it felt kind of... Narcisscistic.
"I'm only just starting out as a commander," she said, turning back to Nyx. "I'm not used to having to look after other pilots, to order people around. It's not really in my nature to be aggressively harsh and stern; frankly, I don't much like it. But I don't want to fuck up, much like you don't either, I guess. I'm not going to reassign you," she said firmly, with a nod. "Because neither of us will learn anything out of that. You want to be a pilot? Fine, that's what we're here to do. I'll help you as much as I can, Lieutenant. That's what I'm here for too. But for your part, remember, this isn't your old life. You're away from there, don't let it hold you back, or drag you down."
She looked up at the clock over the door. "Now, I need to get my furry ass to bed, and so do you. Crew rest until we drop out of hyperspace. You don't have to sleep for 12 hours, but you do need to rest". She stood up and gestured to the door. "Speak to you soon. And remember, I'm always around to ask if you need anything, Lieutenant Miles".
***
As soon as Nyx had left, Erien returned to her desk, and began to finish up the last bits of admin she had. Like she'd just said to the human, they didn't have to sleep for twelve hours, but anything more than light admin work or recreation activities didn't count as 'rest'.
A formal message was waiting in her inbox; she felt a creeping sense of expectation and excitement as she tapped on the icon with one finger. It was from the ships' air boss.
The Wylde Fyre squadron were going to be in the initial deployment of fighters, screening the carrier as soon as it dropped out of hyperspace.
A thrill ran through her; they were going to be one of the first squadrons out. It was a chance to show they could do it, a chance for her to show her skill at command, and show she was capable of doing the job right - or so she hoped.
Squashing down her glee, she quickly forced it into shape with an iron rod of professionalism. She sent messages to Grayson, to confirm he'd received the info, to the flight ops shop to have their gear ready to go and confirm it's status, and then to the pilots of her squadron informing them they'd be the first group out. She set a countdown timer for the suite's lights in all rooms to come on in good time ahead of their launch time. It gave everyone time enough to rest well before rising in time to get a head-start on their pre-flight ops.
Replies came back almost immediately from Grayson and flight ops; they were ready and able. Giving a sigh of relief, she shut her toggle down, and headed into her bedroom. Her body and mind were tired. Even the excitement of the upcoming mission was doing little to abate the fatigue she felt. The pull of her bed was too strong to resist, and she gladly embraced it after she undressed and took a the briefest of showers. The built-in dryer left her fur feeling clean, smooth and soft as she rolled into the comfort of her matress, and drifted away.
***
Many hours later, she stood clad in her flight suit in the main lounge. The wall-screen had her toggle attached and she was waiting to begin the briefing. A count-down in the top corner showed the time remaining until the ship dropped out of jump. It showed less than two hours remaining.
On the counter of the suites' breakfast bar were pots of tea and coffee, along with plates of breakfast foods to go around the group. Everything was a prepared as she could make it, and so all that was left was the briefing, and then for them all to prepare for the flight itself. Their survival gear was waiting to be strapped on over the dull fabric of their suits, up in the flight ops section. Then it was to the hangar to mount up for launch.
So, full of nervous energy and excitement, the Isorlai paced in expectation and waiting. What would they find? What was waiting out there? She knew as much as they all did; colonies going quiet, freighters going missing, pirate and renegade activity, and handfuls of shell-shocked refugees arriving in trailing, drawn-out convoys back in the core systems. It was their job to find out more, and her squadron were on the front-line of that.