Summary: The intrepid members of the 1087th have been respectfully requested by 1st Lieutenant Garcia to report to the simulator room by midnight. When they get there the doors are locked.
Date: 2658.138
Related Logs: Charlie-Foxtrot in Junction

The intrepid members of the 1087th have been respectfully requested by 1st Lieutenant Garcia to report to the simulator room by midnight, local time. Naturally, when they get there, they find the doors locked, with the note 'PLZ WAIT, TECHNICAL ISSUES!' posted on the door. Beyond it , Paz can be heard questioning, scolding and chivvying a pair of deck hands as the team frantically attempts to program the sim pods.

"LT, you're doin' that _wrong_!" one of the hands protests.

"No I'm not, you set the enemy skill level with the second dial from the right, it says so in this book….." Paz replies sharply before her voice trails off.."Which I am looking at upside down…" she adds.

"LT, next time you wanna pull something like this, why don't you just send us a written request?" the other hand cuts in, his tone less than respectful. "Oh man! Why did you have to reset the V-gain on the screens? They'll be all blurry…..You know what, LT? Why don't you go outside and brief your people. Let me and 'Ski handle this." he intones, making it clear it isn't a request.

The doors open just enough to let Paz exit, with both techs bitching audibly about 'that dumbass fighter jock' that 'wrecked their sims'.

Phillip gives a quick chuckle, "So what have you got cooking here Paz," Iceblade speaks first.

Trey is here, of course. He's in his uniform, and he's holding a Rapier flight manual open in a fashion that must've been done half a billion times, by the relaxed, annoyed stance of his pose. He's holding the book open by grasping some of the pages in his hand and letting the book -hang- open, like it's a centerfold. He's half leaned against a wall and is looking up at the booklet, which displays a diagram of some kind. The man's shaking his head. "I still don't know what the fuck PC Load Letter means. What the -hell-?" He stops as Paz steps out and nods at the woman.

And who else should be wandering along this way, but a certain bomber Captain… with a tree-toting Medic in tow. "You know, Garcia, if you're going to drag me into this shit, you've gotta give me a bit more notice," the Australian bomber pilot comments with a little shake of his head, though he seems amused rather than upset. "This is the best I could scrounge up for a wingman. Guess at least you'll get the worst-case scenario for bomber performance."

Bonsais… IN SPACE. Raine isn't bringing her tree into the sim mercifully. She rubs the back of her head, looking bemused. "Miss Paz," Raine smiles. She blinks owlishly. "Are you sure about this? I-" Raine just sort of looks bemused and a bit wry about this whole thing. She laughs. "Worst case huh?" She wrinkles her nose. "Well, I just hope I can help a bit I guess…" She goes quiet, having followed Cole along.

Veritas slips in in full flight gear. He ignores the yelling from behind the door and smiles around.

James makes his way into the sim room looking around as he comes. He looks surprised to see Raine here but nods in greeting to her "So what are we blowing to digitized debris today?" he asks cheerfully.

"Okay, here's what passes for a pre-flight brief." Paz begins, drawing herself a little more upright and projecting her voice a little so it can be heard clearly. "We're sort of re-creating the mess from the other night. The idea is to try and find tactics and weapons that will work." she explains. "There's two Exeter-class Destroyers under attack from two Grikath bombers and one Fralthi light carrier. They've got a fighter screen of three Hhriss." she continues. "With the possibility of other enemy ships being launched. Captain Cole and CMO Winterson have been generous to offer their services to play out the role of friendly bombers. They'll be going for the Fralthi and any other targets of opportunity. The fighter elements' task is to jump on the enemy fighter screen and overwhelm it as quickly as possible. Be aware, further enemy assets might launch from said carrier unless it's disabled or destroyed. Any questions?"

Phillip responds, "Uh yeah, so we let the Griks launch their fish while we tango with the Hhriss, not a good idea."

Trey closes the flight manual and sets it down on a table. "No sir." Sir. He's still not owning up to his promotion. Instead he just stands at attention regardless if he needs to or not, and patiently waits.

James isn't entirely sure what mess is being referred to but he nods in agreement "I think we need to decide first, do we prioritize killing the carrier or screening the destroyers first."

Hmm. "Um. So I try to blow up the big bad and watch the Captain's back?" Winterson is a … bit lost. But she's trying. Her hazel eyes are wide and a bit blank as she listens.

"Right. In front of you, you're gonna see a big goddamn cruiser. Can't miss it. Probably colored sorta red-orange. Point your nose at it, flip the selector switch to torpedo, wait until you hear a solid tone in your ears, and hit the trigger" Cole explains with a little chuckle. "It's a bloody big target. Even you'll probably be able to hit it."

Veritas nods as he listens to the briefing, he doesn't add anything, as this is all too close to home for him.

"Okay, how about this? You decide what your priorities should be." Paz nods in response to the questions, peeking into the crack in the door and nodding. "Okay, let's get suited up." And with that, the sim room's doors open wide, pods ready to accept their victim…er…participants.

Phillip nods at Paz. Enters the room, walks over to his usual pod, hops in, and gets ready.

This could be entertaining. Poor Cole. Raine smiles and nods, "That sounds good." Winterson seems to be good with that. Point nose at target, launch torpedo. Pew! She can handle it. She thinks. Maybe.

James gives the doctor a smile then shrugs and picks a pod to climb into himself, his brow furrowed as he considers his actions in the sim battle.

Deep space…..The stars as distant as God's love seems to some…. Into this blackness paint a pair of Exeter-class destroyers forming up, their massive RCS jetting hot, milky gas as they attempt to make a standard hi-lo cover formation. Against this, a brightly red and gold painted Fralthi, arcing down on her quarry, her fighter screen buzzing about like busy hornets while the bombers flatten out and attempt to end-run the two destroyers, torpedoes gleaming in the reflected light.

« Well, this is cheerful » Cole comments into his comms, bringing his bomber around for the Fralthi. « Priority is to take out those bombers. Once they're done, the fighters aren't much of a threat. I'll see about punching out that Fralthi before they can get anything else into space. » And so he does, bringing his bomber in on a torpedo run aimed at the Fralthi's vulnerable flight deck.
Trey messes with a few dials in his simulated cockpit, raps his fingers impatiently across the side of the panel, and presses a series of buttons on one side. «God. This simulator is so unrealistic. If this were the real thing it wouldn't smell so bad in here or feel like… plastic.» Trey hits the burners on his craft, sending the virtual ship shuttling through abstracted space. On comms, he sounds -very- cheerful to Cole. Almost playful, like it's some sort of cocky James T. Kirk impression. «Coooopy that, Voodoo sir. Two cooked bombers coming up. Have it your way at Grayson Burgers. Would you like fries with that, and have we got wing assignments for this dance?»

«Roger That» His plane slides into formation with the others. «Cutlass your on my wing we will take the one on the left, and let Sloppy and his wingman take the one on the right. Stay with me and keep these guys off our bombers.»

James nods and brings his fighter below and to one side of the main formation before switching his weapons controls over to Heat-seekers and roaring in on one of the bombers, carefully targeting it's engines before squeezing the trigger, «Cutlass Fox 1.»

Beep beep! I'mma pilot! « Okay! » She's going to help! She's helping! Kinda. Raine is figuring this out still. Hmm. This one goes forwar— YEEK. Ok, that's acceleration. Now where's - there's missiles. Yay missiles! There's a good deal of hesitation mingled with a genuine eagerness to help. Hm. Whoops. Talk about the Short Broadsword in action.

Phillip comms using the simulator's internal comm system, «Roger that Lead, Iceblade moving to knock out a bomber.» Iceblade then pulls alongside Trey as he begins to lock his IR onto the Grik that Trey is targeting. «Okay Kitty, here's a hot nasty up your tail.» Iceblade pulls the trigger.

It all happens at once. The Fralthi's slight fighter screen spots the TCSF ships bearing down on the Grikaths and rolls in to strafe them. Blue-white tracers spitting from their guns, but to little avail. Two Hhriss's shots go wide; another's dent the nose of Philip's ship but does no other damage. The lead Grikath takes missiles in its port wing and tail section, spinning it out of control as it launches its warhead at the lead Exeter, causing it to miss wide, the ship spinning away as its pilot fights to regain control. The second Grikath fares no better, a missile dents its wing armor, but another burns its way into its control section, sending it skittering into the second Exeter's flak ring where the Confed ship's lasers shred it to pieces. The Fralthi makes a valiant stance before the friendly bombers' torpedoes strike it on both the flight deck and bridge, brewing the multi-ton light carrier up like a firework.

For their part, the three remaining fighters re-form in the distance before charging back in the Kilrathi equivalent of a banzai charge.

« Right. There's the barbie, who's got the chook? » Cole comments with a little chuckle into his headset as the Kilrathi carrier ceases to exist in a flash. « Let's finish off the rest of this mess and go home, » he adds, toggling his selector switch to Friend or Foe missiles and turning in towards a Hhriss.

Raine would go whee! But she's a bit busy trying to make sure she doesn't slam into poor Cole. Whoops. No wait. What's that button do? Is she going up or down? Hrrrm. Shoot. This piloting thing is kinda complex. To those experienced, her antics must seem like the teen driver using a stick for the first time. Go. Stop. Start. Stall. Tuuuuuuuuuurn. FLAIL! Switch weapon— ok, that one changes what kills things. Good to know. « A barbie? » Blink. Cue the confused Raine. She follows along faithfully though.
« Cutlass on me. Split you have the Hhriss in the back, I'll take the lead.» He then splits slightly from his wingman to allow both to take out the pair of enemy fighters.

James smiles as his missile strikes its target joined by a volley from the destroyer and another missile from Veritas. The enemy bomber breaks apart and James glances towards the carrier in time to see the torpedoes hit. "Good shot doctor, good shot shir!" he calls over the comm before receiving his orders «Yes sir.» he responds even as he is swooping down on his assigned target «Cutlass Fox 1.»

«Break. Break.» Trey's glancing out the back of his cockpit more than the front at this point, keeping an eye on the Hhriss who's attention he seems to have garnered. He ducks around the particles streaming past him and manages a lock on the bomber he's chasing after. The whole time he's peppering lasers at the thing, pausing where he has to so as not to shoot at Phillip's craft, which is after the same target. He gets tone, squeezes the trigger and sends the weapon into the craft. He sends his craft racing towards one of the Exeter's, dancing around the gun turrets until his shadow decides it's just not that into him, and then Trey peels off, in search of bomber-food. «You can't hit nothing. You can't hit NOTHING!» he taunts.

Phillip launches his missile at the Grikath doing his part in taking it out. Iceblade takes a quick hit to the nose by the Hhriss, which then pulls back before turning on the Destroyer. Iceblade comms with a brief comment before turning onto the Hhrisses, «Okay, anybody think this turned out a little unrealistic.» As Iceblade's fighter begins burning for the Hhrisses, he comms, «Oh well, let's just get into a bit of tango with these Hhrisses and book it to bed.» Iceblade locks an IR onto the lead Hhriss.
To make a short story even shorter, it's a _massacre_. The remaining Kilrathi fighters are swept from the virtual universe with unerring precision by the assembled TCSF pilots (and one slumming doctor, who might need to rethink her career choices, if this is any judge of her skill). The simulation ends, simply put, with two happy and undamaged Exeter-class destroyers, and a hell of a lot of debris fields from where the enemy units used to be before their righteous mangling.

Phillip watches as the Kilrathi fail miserably and are blown to pieces including by him, which is actual pretty rare even when in the simulator. He comms over the sim unit, «You know I've been fightin' battles on this thing all week, and I've never been this lucky.» Iceblade then adds jokingly, «You know, I think Paz may have broken the simulator….Uh no offense Paz.» Iceblade then turns onto the last Hhriss and opens up with full guns.

« Dunno about the fighters, but that's just a bad way for a Fralthi to get hit » Cole explains to Phillip, idly chatting while his latest shot tracks into a Hhriss. Ahh, the joys of fire and forget weapons. « Two of the five I've brought down have been flight deck hits. Between the fuel, the munitions, and the fact they're not really armored there? Goes up like a bloody tinderbox. Show me a live one, and I'll happily demonstrate »

Unanswered, Trey brings his ship around and finishes off one of the wounded bombers. It's no contest. The thing's a wallowing mess with smoke and fire billowing from every angle. When trey switches to guns and destroys the thing, it's a mercy killing. «Captain Cole, your order is served, sir. Have it your way at Grayson's, tonight!»

Raine blinks, and - whoops, did she just do a barrel roll? She did. Eeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Either way, the hapless doctor is tagging along behind Cole. She's not sure she's ready to give up doctorin' yet, but it's proving to be quite an adventure. Too bad she couldn't fit a tree into the cockpit. She tries not to giggle at the comm chatter.

Veritas switches over to his guns and yawns a little, «Ok this is almot like shooting cats in a barrel»

James watches his missile sail off into space and mutters something about lowest bidders before swinging around for another pass on the lone Kilrathi survivor. «Cutlass fox 1,» he calls over the comm again.

Needless to say, the remaining Hhriss is neatly eviscerated by the circling fighters and bombers, vaporizing into rapidly expanding digital pixels. The real surprise is the way that Raine's Broadsword sails through the destroyer's undulating, energetic flak ring without so much as mussing it's virtual paint job. Clearly, someone has been taking her lucky pills.

« Nice work, everyone » Cole calls, before he pops open his little sim pod and moves to step back out into daylight. Or at least, the fluorescent imitation thereof.

Flyin' like she's got her pants on her head, pants on her head. Eeeeeee. She closes her eyes briefly a moment as she sails neatly through the destroyer's flak. Don't explode, don't explode. No explode! Raine is relieved and wondering just how much of her lucky pills she burned through there. « INteresting perspective, » Is all a very surprised Raine manages. It's quite an experience to someone who doesn't normally fly as she pops open her own little pod and steps out. There's a weeble in her step. "… interesting."

«I'd like to thank all the people who made this crushing victory possible.» Trey Grayson literally buzzes one of the Exeters, coming only a few feet from the control tower and bridge.

Veritas just shakes his head. He then makes a point of buzzing Raine's ship close in the simulator as he pulls off the last shot on the Hhriss.

Phillip's guns barely even touch the Hhriss before the ship is blown to pieces by everything in the digital space. A few laser shots from the destroyers flare his shields, but Phillip just avoids the remaing shots without even trying…which he isn't. After the simulation ends, he pops the simpod and steps out totally confused and clearly just shocked by such a sweeping victory against Hhrisses no less. He looks around the room and just waits for others to say their piece before making any further comments than he already has.

James climbs out of his pod and smiles as he walks to greet the doctor "Are you sure you didn't moonlight as a pilot to help pay for med school or something doctor?" he asks warmly as he approaches.

Eek! buzzed! Raine doesn't not notice that. She smiles at James then laughs softly, "I think it was dumb luck and following the Captain…" She had it easy, following an experienced flier. She does look amused and smiles at Phillip. "But I should get back to my end of the ship. Paperwork stops for no woman or tree," She bobs her head. There's a warm smile to Veritas too and soon Raine is off to Bonsai-land.

Phillip notices that everybody seems really tired, so he makes no further comment and follows them, completely silent and deep in his own thoughts, up to the pilot's quarters and hits the sack.

For her part, Paz sits in the Flight Directors' chair, chortling her ass off in the most embarrassed of ways. "Okay…heh…that did not go as planned." she snickers, shaking her head

James veers off to his own squadron's quarters when the time comes and within half an hour of the simulation ending he's sleeping peacefully other then rolling over occasionally.

"Damn good flying, Doc." Paz says, moving to offer the CMO a handshake. "You ever wanna learn the ropes, lemme know."

Heehee. Raine still looks bemused and gently accepts the handshake. "T-thanks. And hey you never know, it might be fun to learn," She smiles at Paz. "I may sometime. Until then, be well. I don't want to see any more of you guys in my bay," Nod. And off she goes!

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