This Is no Drill (Aftermath)
This Is No Drill: Aftermath
Summary: The Recovery Deck, after the battle.
Date: 2657.317
Related Logs: This Is No Drill

Recovery Deck

Landing a one-winged broadsword really isn't the most elegant of tasks under any circumstances. The crippled bomber does well enough until it makes the transition from vacuum to atmosphere, dipping sharply to one side and dropping hard to the deck. The landing gear folds, the bomber sliding across the deck in a shower of sparks, slowing until it taps the portside wall just aft of the repair hangar with a gentle thud. "Any landing you can walk away from…" the Major muses to himself.

Loflynn arrives from the Fore Lift.
Loflynn has arrived.

Melia gets banged around rather alot as the one winged lands, Pickett's little comment doesn't help what so every and as she unstraps herself she turns to him. "I'm flying with the rookie next time." She jokes, she leans across kisses his cheek and goes to exit the fighter.

Markovic's Stil gets pushed back into a bay for rearming and refueling as her cockpit canopy slides open. She unstraps the helmet, shaking her head around a bit before slowly rising out of the cockpit. The Captain takes a BIIIIG sigh and cracks her neck as she looks around.

Aquilina lands without much hitch, his stiletto's landing gear and controls still in fine working order. He pulls his helmet off some severely sweaty, matted hair and pops the cockpit "glass", climbing up and over the side of the capsule. Boots hit deck and he blows out a breath that puffs his cheeks, fingers making cowlicks out of his hair.

It is a more or less gentle landing that the Lady Jane Grey makes on Majestic's deck. And, out of the smoking wreck's gaping side hole, Pip tumbles out, choosing to go in that manner, rather than using the conventional way. There is less climbing involved. It is a big hole, you see. Pressure suits save lives. He waits outside of the Broadsword, and shouts inside…"Kell? Jarhead? Gunners? Quit playing nancy-girl grabass in there, and come out for a proper check-up. We all took a nice tumble, we might as well get our lolly for being good boys and girls.." Eyes shift around, and a wave is given to the returning pilots as they begin to appear. He looks less than pleased, given that they all survived.

Valentine arrives from the Flight Deck.
Valentine has arrived.

Xiang manages to bring her Stiletto home and land it back on the Majestic. By the skin of the poor craft's hull. The hull is streaked black from Kilrathi fire, and dented in a fair few places, and the underpanels look in need of a good welding. She disembarks gladly, taking her helmet off and running and arm across her sweaty forehead. Her eyes widen as she looks at the state of her bird. She takes a breath. Savoring the whole being alive thing.

"Never promised flying with me was safe" Pickett replies to Melia, dropping out from the hatch of the lopsided and rather crashed broadsword. As he makes his way past, he gives the side of the nose of the craft a solid slap, before moving over to join the others. "Well" Pickett comments, an amused smile lingering on his face. "That was fun"

Korsakov's Stil ends up in the alcove next to Markovic's; for once his fighter isn't the mangled one. In fact, Korsakov managed to go the entire battle without suffering so much as a scratch, so the deck crew is ignoring his ship for now in favor of the more battered ones. Calm and collected, the Illuminati XO raises himself from his cockpit, perching on top of his ship for a moment and watching the hangar bay as he yanks off his helmet and runs a hand through sweat-streaked brown hair. Finally, with a slight sigh, he descends down the ladder and begins to meander his way around the hangar bay, checking on his pilots.

Loflynn watches from the observation area and crosses her arms over her chest. An unlit cigar is trapped between her lips and she watches at the fighters land and get squared away by the flight crews. She turns and talks with a pair of the lead deck hands and nods to them as the last few fighters scrape across the hangar floor to come to a stand still. She turns and grins about the bit of the cigar and moves her hands to her hips.

Following the Jarhead that was held prisoner inside the Lady Jane Grey due to assignment as a gunner are the other gunners from both Kell's Broadsword and Pip's. The last one out is the pilot of the other bomber who has a rather dejected and frustrated expression on his face. Losing a ship certainly doesn't sit well on the Rookie, even if it's a fat Broadsword Bomber. He is somewhat more composed than some hotheads may be as he doesn't punt his flight helmet or turn green while going into a hulking rage.

Melia follows Tom out a little slower then when she got in, she's a little sore from the bumps and bruises suffered while in flight and landing. "No you didn't." She says going to move after him on his way to the other pilots, she hangs back alittle figuring he'd want to debrief the pilots. As Tom's occupies himself she glances towards the Vultures row, her hand lifts to her boss, giving her a thumb up and an a-okay sign.

Captain Markovic slowly hefts a leg out and drops down onto the deck, leaving her helmet in the Stil. Her hair is a nasty mes of sweat and tangles that will probably take most of the night to work out. She looks to meet eyes with Korsakov and gives him a nod before looking to Torch. "Very impressed, Lieutenant Aquilina. You know how to fly a Stil with the best of them." She tosses a relieved look to Pip. "You alright, El-tee??" Looks like you got dinged." Penchant for understatement like a pro.

Aquilina unzips his flight suit at the neck, letting air into the T-shirt level underneath. He smirks over at Pickett, lifting his chin to the squadron CO, then passes off his helmet to flight crew. They can sterilise the sweat-stained thing. His eyes flicker about, taking count of heads, and finish on the last one out of the Lady Jane Grey. "Chin up, Razor. Can't always run out into traffic and come back without a scratch." He winks at the young man. "You did just fine."

Loflynn nods her head as Melia signals her and she fingers the twined belts at her hips. She chuckles at the expressions of some of the teams and she turns back to the senior techs and deck hands in the observation room.

"It happens, kid. I mean…not in everyone's first week…but losing a fighter happens to the best…"A pause, and Pip jerks a thumb at his chest. "I should know…I'm talking about myself." Eyes leave the dejected Kell, and the English fighterpilot gives a thumbs-up to Markovic…"Thanks to you, and Torch. I owe you two some drinks, I believe. Fuck. I forgot why I begged my way out of the old 191st. Fuck Broadswords." A thumbs-up of thanks is flashed to Aqualina, too. And then his jaw sets into angry mode again, and he begins to search the bay visually….gaze shifting back to Markovic…"Where is that late son-of-a-bitch?"

Aquilina smirks at Jenthson and returns the thumbs-up. "Believe me, I'm sure as fuck savouring the one time in my life I'll probably get to save your arse, old man. I'll meet you for those drinks and a round after." Looking back at Mark, he gives her an upward nod. "And you're a kill stealing bitch, but I'll still respect you in the morning." His brief grin shows one side of his teeth.

Raising his shoulders slightly at Aquilina, Kell gives him a sort of helpless shrug, "I wish I came back with only a scratch, the 'Sword is drift out there in pieces. Floating around in space wasn't much fun either…" He shakes his head slightly, obviously disappointed, but he gives Pip a nod, "Don't plan on losing anymore though, that's for sure. Once is more than enough." The young pilot seems to be attempting to gather and reforge his confidence, since that is actually one of the most important traits to a pilot. A scared pilot usually becomes a dead pilot and it won't be a surprise if other pilots find Kell racking up a lot of sim time in not just a Stiletto but in other types of Fighters as well.

Melia floats towards the main group as drinks are mentioned, doesn't seem like they'll be debriefing just yet, well not the offical one anyway. "I'll definetly spot a round also, I thought we we're goners there for a second." She says looking rather horrfied at her near death experience.

Markovic nods to the LT. "You are on, Pip. I think we all need a few. I have my own reasons." There's something telling behind that smile. Rutroh. With the man's second question, she laughs. "Oh, you are asking the wrong fighter pilot. I was busy." She dips her smirk towards him and looks back to Aquilina. "Fuck you, Lieutenant. We will settle this in the bar like pilots!" she calls mock-angrily. He fists lift, floating in front of her daringly. But she drops it quickly and looks to Kell. "Hey. Draygo. Come here. Have a minute for a Captain?" she calls, extending her arm, beckoning with the hand.

"Chin up, Draygo." Korsakov's eyes fall upon the upset young lieutenant as he walks down the bay. "Everyone loses a ship. Nichevo. It can't be helped. Just means you'll be Confed's newest recipient of the Golden Sun, is all." After a morbid chuckle, he offers a return nod up to Markovic before his eyes once again settle on the row of damaged fighters.

Pickett looks around the deck and the little gathering present there, taking in the sight for a moment. Battered fighters aplenty, sure… but all the same faces present at landing that were there at landing. "Right. Everyone listen up" Pickett calls towards the group, his voice loud, hoping it carries across the deck to get everyone's attention.

Stumbling out of the crippled broadsword, Lucian finally makes it to the deck, where he begins to throw up. Trying to save face, he kneels in front of the ship with his back turned to the crowd of people.

Xiang makes her way toward Kell as well, once she's gotten her composure back a bit. She gives the younger LT a look-over, as if to convince herself he's still in one piece. "Happens to the best of them, Draygo," she says to him. "I was a nick away from going EVA myself. You're alive. That's what counts." She quiets down as Pickett starts talking, however, straightening up and giving him her attention.

"Say that again when you're under the fucking table, Captain," Alex calls back to Markovic, smirking. His eyes flicker back to Kell as Mark addresses him, then his arms fold over his chest and he turns his attention Pickett-wards.

Catching Markovic's hand motion, Kell begins to make his way in her direction since a Lieutenant usually doesn't say 'no' to a Captain, plus he was curious as what she wanted to say. While he passes by the Squadron XO, the young pilot can only nod with a 'Yes Sir' attached for the veteran, knowing that he speaks the truth. He also shoots Xiang an appreciative smile for her words, having been in a very close call in a patrol the other day. When he finally reaches Markovic's side, the Squadron CO has begun making an announcement so Kell focuses his attention on Pickett, knowing that whatever the other pilot wanted to tell him will have to wait.

Melia turns her attention to Pickett as he begins to speak up, she can assume he meant her and Lucian whom appears to be throwing up, she ignores him for now looks like the guy doesn't need someone embaressing him. She felt kinda sick there for a moment herself.
Pickett's announcement stops Max in his tracks; the squadron XO reverses course, approaching Pickett with his helmet slung under one arm. Leaning against a nearby fighter, Korsakov stays quiet, his eyes flicking amongst the other pilots as he waits for the major to speak.

Markovic levels a finger at Alex from her free hand. "Say that after I break the table over you," she challenges back, grinning. But it drops and her attention falls to Pickett as the man speaks up. Her chin lifts as Kell reaches her. She puts her arm around the young Lieutenant's shoulder for a moment, asiding to him. "After this. I want to talk to you about what you did." She glances to him with a blank expression and looks back to the Major.

"Right, here's the deal" Pickett replies. "Formal debrief can wait a while. For the moment, we'll suffice it to say they're dead, and we're not. First round of drinks at First and Last is on my tab" he adds, before he gives a little grin and adds. "And we'll worry about going over the flight recorder and mission performance data once the hangovers have worn off"

An eyebrow is lifted, and Frethan's attention shifts toward Pickett, Pip's scarlet red helmet tucked under one arm, and his free hand digging into his old flightsuit, searching for that silver flask he carries, just in case. He backs up a few paces, and drops it softly onto the deck next to Lucian. A thank you for the jarhead that's emptying his guts.

Aquilina is enough of a gentleman to let Markovic have that last word. For now. A smirk twitches the corner of his mouth, but it vanishes easily enough as his attention stays on Pickett.

Melia goes to lean back against one of the fighters her arms folded across her chest as she listen, she turns her head to glance at Lucian making sure the other marine is okay before her eyes focus back on Pickett.

Markovic lifts her hand slightly, sending a thumbs-up to Pickett. Niiiice. But she stays quiet for the moment.

The only response from Kell that Markovic gets is a slight nod, to show that he heard her and understands. His attention is fully on the CO though as he listens to the speech, wondering if it might be a good idea to drink enough so that he forgets about this successful scramble.

Xiang has her full attention on Pickett. A nod is given at the details about the full debrief and performance data being reviewed later. As if she's making some note in a mental calendar. She shows no disapproval at the prospect of drinking, however.

Aquilina fishes in the front pocket of his T-shirt, pulling out a supremely battered cigarette. A few bits of tobacco crumble onto the deck as he tucks the thing behind his ear, locked and loaded. He watches Pickett, waiting for anymore speechy words.

"That's all I had" Pickett comments with a little chuckle. "Sorry to disappoint those who were hoping for a long and boring victory speech" he adds jokingly, before adding more seriously "Well flown, everyone"

After blowing chunks, Lucian wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "Oh man.." Lucian looks up to the officer offering the flask, and wastes no time grabbing it and downing the liquid. "Ahhh…" The bad taste is washed down with a bitter sting. "Thank you sir…" He closes the lid and stands on his two feet before handing the flask back. "I don't think I want to do that again soon.." A nervous smiles forms from his face.

Aquilina smirks at Pickett's ending and lifts his hands to cup around his mouth, calling out VERY loudly, "Your permission to get off this fucking deck, sir?"

Melia shakes her head. "You've always been one for little words haven't you Major." Melia calls from the fighter near Lucian is, she gives a chuckle and eyes the door, eager to get some drink and a few games of pool. "So who's up for a game of pool?" She asks, pushing off the fighter. "How about you rookie?" She says to Kell. "Get your frustration out a little and I promise I might even let you win."

Markovic looks to Pip and Torch. "I wil lcatch up with you guys in the bar. I will be along with Draygo here in a few minutes." She offers them a more relaxed smile and motions for Kell to follow. "Come on. Let us grab a few words away from the noise."

"Don't worry about it, Marine. You hopefully won't have to…and if you do? Ask for a better pilot." Gesturing to the wreck of a bomber, Frethan merely gives a slight bow to the Corpsman, and accepts his flask in return. "If you want to meet us for drinks, you're more than welcome." That said, the oldest pilot turns on his heel, and heads for the door, knowing he'll see most of these pilots in the F&L, and looking to find himself a cushy seat, before they mob the establishment.

Valentine leaves, heading towards the Aft Lift [AL].
Valentine has left.

When the speech ends, Kell nods his thanks to the CO before he turns his attention to Markovic and nodding at her, "Okay." He begins to follow her, still curious about what choice of words she will have for him. His eyes do take a look at the others who are in the Recovery Bay before looking ahead again.

Loflynn smiles and she heads from the observation room.

Loflynn leaves, heading towards the Fore Lift [FL].
Loflynn has left.

With Pickett finished speechifying, Korsakov directs one last look at the gathering of pilots, eyes settling on Markovic and Draygo for a second before he heads for the exit. His battered pack of cigarettes comes free, and there's a single white cancer stick waiting in his hand once he's off the no-smoking zone that is the hangar deck.

Markovic leaves, heading towards the Fore Lift [FL].
Markovic has left.

Aquilina doesn't wait to hear if Pickett responds. There are rounds waiting. He glances at Markovic and Kell but doesn't linger, heading off at confident stride.

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