Chapter 1.0 Operation Cataclysm!

[SmokeEmpress]

Briefing Room

Once more, Jo kept to herself. This wasn't typical of her, but at this moment it wasn't the time for her to be joking and she knew it. She was in the back of the room, so all she could do was sit and listen. Like Miranda, Jo was unaware of the other species and what they all could and could not do. So she was willing to listen to the lesson without comment. She did find it fascinating, though, and her gaze once more took in the good Dr that was still in the room with them.

 

[Gunhand4171]

NSS Thanatos

"Oh... nothing major, though had I known there would be a more hands on partnership between us and certain consultants here, I would have tried to strike a better deal." Was that a bit of a jest from the former XO? Maybe Jayden demotion cause him to loosen up, or did he just start to care less since he wasn't in command anymore.

Ace Combat 4 Operation Extended
​

Nero strode into the room dimming the lights as he did. He tapped the screen again and a map appeared on the screen of the local space laid out in a blue grid. In the center of the map were two green diamonds, one smaller representing the Oracle and the larger one for theThanatos. Nero cleared his throat to make sure everyone was paying attention.

"Well ladies and gentlemen; we have our first official mission. I wish it was a little more exciting but beggers can't be choosers. Now pay attention.”

He tapped the screen again and the map zoomed out. The two diamonds moved to the bottom corner of the screen. A new yellow diamond appeared in the middle of a small asteroid field.

“We have received a distress call from a small mining barge out in this asteroid belt.” He said pointing to the yellow diamond. “We have no idea what is going on out there, as no one has responded to our hails. All we know is what we got from the distress beacon. The ship is called the Spring and has a crew of 25 people aboard. Command has decided that they want us to investigate.” He shrugged. “If there was ever a time to try out the new Scythes, now would be a good one.” He added. “There are no mission restrictions on the craft you may choose as we don’t know what we will face. We might not face anything at all, but it never hurts to be prepared.” He said taping the Thanatos and drawing a line to the Yellow Diamond. As he finished, four small green arrows in a V formation followed the path Nero's finger left.

“The mission is simple, fly to the Spring and assess the problem. Rules of engagement, do not fire unless fired upon.” He looked across the room. “Your new Raider PAs are waiting for you and your planes are waiting to taxi onto the flight deck, get moving!”

 

[Grey Library]

"Actual shapeshifting? That's amazing! I wonder how it works?" Miranda, grey eyes glittering with wonder, looked almost ready to launch into another barrage of questions when the door slid open with a pneumatic hiss to reveal Commander Vega reentering the room. Drat, I'll have to make a note to look it up later, she mused as she gave Leftenant Mochizuki a nod of thanks before focusing on the briefing. "Another time then. Thank you for the information, Mochizuki-san."

"Oh god." Barely a minute into the briefing, she had already begun to feel chills down her spine. "Blackouts" in deep space were a spacefarer's worst nightmare, anything and EVERYTHING would be trying to kill you when the shields went down. Be it solar radiation flaying your ship alive, random pebble meteorites impaling you at relativistic velocities, or even the godforsaken COLD, nobody save full-on military warships lasted long out in the black. I know the kinds of people who'd come out all the way here alone, she thought with a cringe. They've probably skimped on maintenance to save cash and their hull'll be full of holes already.

The freighter jockey in her tried really hard not to think about the ASTEROID FIELD nearby. "Those poor sods..." Miranda muttered to herself, shaking her head in exasperation.


-----


As the briefing concluded, Miranda got up and approached the ex-Captain. "Sir, my old squadron used to have a trick for dealing with these situations, we'd load up with N-F2s and send them ahead to take a closer look." Fishing out her Datajockey, she called up an image of said drone and showed it to him. "Help and I could probably handle controlling two of them at a time, if we don't do any fancy flying. Shall I bring along a couple?"

 

[paladinrpg]

NSS Thanatos, Briefing Room

Sayoko nodded once to the inquisitive Miranda, as their time was growing short with the briefing soon wrapping up. "You're welcome. They certainly are interesting allies," she added, though the way she said this last word still had the hint of suspicion about the depths of their loyalties.

None the less, the Jiyuuian arose promptly at the call to action, turning to give Nero a crisp salute to the tip of her naval garrison cap. "Hai, sir. Though, I have a feeling things will get a lot more exciting than they first appear." This was likely a sentiment shared by most others in the room at that point. Sayoko didn't wait for a response, however... she was eager to get down to business, and see the Scythe hands on. There was also the matter of a special armor requisition that the former operator had made... namely a Stealth Variant M10 Raider, one she was very familiar with from her time spent in the IPG. Hopefully it was ready and waiting for her when she arrived at the launch deck's armory.

The only stop the viridian-haired veteran made before heading out of the briefing room to her fighter was to brush purposely past Virgil, who had been quiet for most of the mission details. Sayoko gave him a knowing glance as she did so, her face that serious expression she always wore... but with secret smile in her eyes that only he understood. "Ready?"

 

[FrostJaeger]

NSS Thanatos, Briefing Room 5

As My'ean finished her part of the briefing, Nero moved to slip out only to be stopped by Milo. He reeked of Jagermister, and just couldn't hold his tongue. Nero looked him over and noticed the bottle. He snatched it from Milo and looked at him with pure disdain. "Yes Lt. Frost, I was demoted. If you would have been here on time you would have known." Nero unscrewed the drink and took a wiff. He then looked at the bottle and looked at Milo. Without warning, he dumped the entire bottle over his head and threw the bottle into the trash by the door. As he left he added. "Come to one more briefing with alcohol in your system or in your hand, I will beat you within a damn inch of your life." He said storming out.

Fortunately for one Lieutenant Frost, the bottle was for the most part empty. Unfortunately for one Lieutenant Frost, that was still a waste of theincredibly precious substance known as Jäeger. MOTHERFUCKER!

With a grunt, Milo rose from his seat (quite intent on taking Nero up on the latter's challenge) - only to fall back into his seat as he (seemingly) hallucinated again. <Whoa, Cowboy! Easy there...> The fucking hell?

He glanced at the aforementioned trash can. Was that shit spiked or something?



Leaning as far back in the chair as physically possible, the LT's mind raced as he tried to figure out just where in the actual hell the voice from within his head was coming from. The first time he could easily have written off as one of those things that came with being inebriated; the second time, however, had promptly booted that concept clear out of the airlock. If it were something like my DataJockey, some asshole hacking it would make sense - except that my ears don't have any wireless functions...in fact, hell, the only external input it has is the audio jack in my arm...wait!




Milo's visible eye widened noticeably as he remembered something that Lorath psychotherasomething - Aiesu - had told him the day prior.

"As soon as the middle of the ball turns clear, plug her into whatever you like; plane, computer, television, volumetric projector, any neural gear you've got... The connector is morphic, so it'll fit just about anything. There's also a simple microphone and speaker built in. She'll find a way to talk to you."

Where he not at the front of a room packed full of his (future) peers, the fighter jockey would've facepalmed. And this is why I fucking hate mornings...


At that moment, the room's lights dimmed. About fricking ti-ah, damn it!


Milo sighed; due to his carelessness, he - again thanks to the mistake of a chosing a first-row seat - had been deprived of his second-most-preferred time for sleeping, also known as pre-mission briefings.


The sound of someone's throat being cleared, however, was more then enough to re-aquire the Nepleslian's attention; the presence of a holographic projection and the Commander immediately lifted up the LT's spirits (Wait, Command's actually decided to deploy us on a run? BOOYAH! - though it wasn't long before the latter's high hopes got vaped by the well-placed shots of reality. ...A rescue mission. They're sending us on a fucking rescue mission.....hold it, something's not right...


Milo frowned, his initial misgivings about the "milk run" having been replaced with concern. A fighter sqaudron's overkill for something as basic as this - and not even Command's that stupid...meaning it's a fucking set-up.


The pilot pondered on this for a moment, then shrugged. Oh well...been too long since I've been in a real fight outside of the sims, anyways. This ought to be fun!


Said pilot then noticed the distinctive lack of Nero's voice in the background. Shit, man, focus! You're looking like a fucking idiot!


His coffee-colored features once again the definition of charisma, the LT rose, saluted (in his typical lazy-assed style), and departed - the strange voice in his head having since been pushed to the wayside by the far-more-immediate issue of what was looking more and more like an ambush.


Pushed to the wayside, that is, until - as Milo exited into the outside corridor - the voice in his head manifested itself in the upper-right corner of his vision.

<Anyone home? I mean, there's plenty of room in here...but come on. Are you always this quiet?>

Milo stumbled as his universe yet again ceased to make any sense whatsoever. WHATTHESHIT?

 

[Whitehart]

Thanatos briefing room

Edward had never left the briefing room as he filtered further through the information he had aquired. He watched as almost everyone had left and overheard the various inane conversations around him. He especially rolled his eyes at Miranda's ignorance over the Lorath race.

She was obviously overly sheltered, the Lorath were a technological super power and Edward had often times used their tech for various informational duties. He continued to process his information during this divergent thought.

He was surprised at the rapid re entry of the 'higher ups' and the apparent appearance of a new mission. A tug needed some aid in an asteroid belt. Not bad, a nice low key training mission. Again Edward rolled his eyes at the huff and puff from the 'stick jocks' in the room. They saw this as a no brainer, a cake walk or even a waste of their time. They have obviously never been an analyst.

In the past Edward would recieve reports from these kind of simple yet helpful and fruitful missions. He would read them over, pick them apart and look for connections to other apparently unrelated incidents. He had even once uncovered a terrorist cell using just these types of low key unobtrusive missions.

He was committing the plans and display to memory when he sat up and and looked a little nervous. "Wait a second, sorry to interupt but we have to wear Raiders? Um, I'd like to opt out of wearing the clunky space suit por favor. Not only is it horribly tight fitting but it really impacts my typing and well, it does nothing for my moustache," Edward said as he made a show of twirling his finely shaped 'stache.

 

[Lamb]

"Always ready." A smile, a nod, and a somewhat more bashful inclination of the head, andVirgil excused himself from the commentary. He really was a boring person at the end of the day, being neither excited or offended by most restrictions or suggestions. He had all he needed to please himself in his personal life, and always told himself it was meant to be that way. A job was a job, not a hobby. Besides, he was mildly pleased in either case, for this sort of job was one he was used to. He might've never flown during the war with the NMX or even during the civil war, but busting pirates was what every primary rotation fighter pilot had been up to for the last few years-- and primary rotation Virgil was. Without the thick background of his wingmates, he was a fish out of water in all but this exact situation. As he donned his RAIDER armor for the first time, this was along with a jaunty hummed tune the thought he used to find comfort in the mission. After all, it had to be pirates, didn't it? Didn't it?

No time for worries!

Lieutenant Canton slipped into the seat of his fighter and preformed all his pre-flight checks with no hesitation, even if it meant he'd miss the chance to join in on all the fun banter in the briefing room and really get a chance to show his experience with these matters. In the end, he had to load Mom into the new fighter and start his pre-flight checks with the obvious questions on his mind. Who reported this intelligence? Why were they only sending a fighter patrol to examine the incident instead of a shuttle with a boarding party in case the ship needed to be retaken from pirates? Would they be back in time for dinner? Could he cook, maybe something for both he and Sayoko? What exactly was the deal with Milo? Who was Reggie and why did he feel the need to report his presence in the ship's head?

These and more questions would have to wait or remain unanswered, for now there was only the prospect of flying again and feeling free once more-- the only thing that, at the end of the day ever mattered to Virgil Canton.

 

[OsakanOne]

Inhaling sharply through her teeth, Edward's question took My'ean back to a time perhaps around a month ago.

The Fyunnen frowned: the M10 RAIDER wrapped around her feeling in her own words, like a deadweight as she walked -- the version she wore adjusted for her less Nepleslian and more Lorath proportions - being nearly two feet taller than the armor's typical wearer. While she was used to neural control, this wasn't the first time she'd worn one but was close to and as a result, the thing really didn't know and hadn't lerned her alien neurology well enough to even function on the same level as a Nepleslian's first outing.

Without really mentioning it to anyone, she'd gone to the trouble of disabling the control alltogether - finding her own functional strength easier to manage than the armor's own tendency to lead and over-compensate which had earned a bout of swearing when she first tried it around a month ago -- and the armor honestly wasn't that much heavier than the standard battle gear Fyunnen trained with anyway.

The cockpit was another story: the thick fingers interrupting several startup sequences. Annoyed, she twisted her wrist -- teeth bared beneath her helmet as the gauntlets came away with cables stretched and eventually disconnected to hang on tethers so she could use her own fingers through the thinner bodysuit she wore beneath the machine.

Even maneuvering required extra effort and exertion from the muscles in her arms, often over-steering or under-compensating for the shape of space in her turns in a way that meant runs that should have been over in single digit minutes took deep doubles.

This tanker's mentality was wearing on her patience quickly.

The compression of her wings in her back. The heaviness of the glorified crab-skins she was wrapped in.

The woman had lived for flight all her life and for the first time, she hated it. At some points, Aiesu had been subjected to the full fury of the Fyunnen screaming at the very top of her lungs over the radio - her particular dialect of the language almost utterly indistinguishable from a hoard of angry dogs.​

"Optional" she said with no hesitation whatsoever, ignoring the faint twinge in her wrist telling her to reach for the flask in her breast pocket - a slight twitch in her expression.

"In my experience, the protection the M-10 offers is secondary to how much it impends you in the cockpit: Its a greater threat to your survival than its worth and can turn even a cursory encounter into just the worst headache imaginable. If you're splashed, its not going to make a difference in a vacuum filled with micro-meteorites, debris and a possible enemy fighter presence, is it?"

 

[Gunhand4171]

Nero tapped the screen and it turned off. That is when Miranda brought an idea to his attention. "I like it Bannings, but I will have Lt. Donato man them. He is well versed in that sort of thing. What ever craft you use have the ground crew load two onboard." He said patting Miranda on the shoulder, sensing her uneasiness. "Let's get moving Lt. We don't want to be late for the party," he said as he moved to exit the room.He stepped outside and waited in the hall as the rest of the team exited as he waited for Jayden to exit.

"Distress beacon response, seems like they're putting the training wheels back on us." Jayden thought to himself as he brought up the rear, being the last to leave the briefing room. It did seem like a great opportunity for them to try the new craft and see what his design really had to offer. When he exited, he almost didn't notice Nero standing there off to the side of the door, but judging the look on his face, Jayden knew he wanted to talk.

"Did you need to discuss something, Ca... Commander?"

Nero smirked. "So I am not the only one who is totally thrown off by this." He said moving to keep up with Jayden. "So Solaris, what do you think our current prediciment?" Nero asked as he ran his and through his hair.

"Seems pretty routine to me, it's not really unheard of for civilian ships to request military aid if all else fails. And considering the hot water we're in, we really can't manage to fuck this one up." After speaking however, a thought occurred to Jayden causing him to pause. "You don't think... do you?"

At first Nero was disappointed with his former XO's answer. If Nero had learned anything in his time flying Black ops, nothing is ever routine. But, Jayden caught on to what Nero was thinking. "Of course Commander. When does it not concern him." He said sneering. "Routine my ass. That fucker is up to something. I'm telling you that this is far stranger that it seems." Nero pulled ahead of Jayden, leading him towards the armory. "Think about it. If command would respond the way they were supposed to, a frigate or destroyer would have been dispatched. Hell, at least a shuttle to get everyone on board in case the ship was dead in space. Yet, they are sending us. Wouldn't that concern you?" He added as he pulled his e-cig from his pocket, taking a long drag.

"Depends on the type of distress signal. It's possible we're being sent against hostiles, but I don't understand why the intel wouldn't have giving that information. Those mining companies usually hire on security to make sure they are defended, but without more information I can't really say what, how or why." Lt. Commander Solaris shook his head. "The longer Aquila Flight exists, the more things seem to spiral out of control. I have a feeling things are going to get a lot worse, sooner rather than later."

"Indeed it is. We were all picked to be part of a flight that was to be dragged through the mud for someone's personal gain." He said putting air quotes around someone. He let out a plume of smoke before he spoke again. "We have been chosen to suffer for the greed of others." He added as they entered the Armory. Nero moved to his new Raider, looking over the new paint job that the other CO's had given him. He sighed, put the e-cig back in his pocket and began to suit up.

The M10 Raider, much smaller than the Hostiles they'd been using for years but still the Nepleslian way was to cling to the old, because it was tried and true. But that was the old doctrine, when starfighters were looked upon as glorified jets and planetary craft. Jayden looked at the armor for a moment and shook his head before donning the suit. "We're hardly the best, or most qualified. That, in and of itself, is a fallacy. The aim was to take out strategic personnel that could unravel this whole thing because of our varied talents. That's all this is, nothing more and nothing less."

Even in his response to Nero, Jayden was more focused on the idea spinning through his head, on ways to improve upon existing practices and bring about much needed change. "Let's just make sure not to screw this up, we can't afford to play into his hands again."

Nero placed his new helmet on his head and locked it into place. "Your right, we can not afford to fuck up. No matter what we are actually facing, we must be ready for it." He ran his suit's self-diagnostic system to make sure nothing else had been tampered with. Nero had become extremly paranoid after the attack and wasn't taking any chances. He instructed Cipher to check his Uno as well. The report flashed on Nero's hud. "All systems nominal." Cipher reported.

"Good lets get moving." He stated to the Lt. Commander.

"Yes sir." Jayden said matter of factly and moved out of the Armory heading toward the hangar, a surprising pep to his step noticeable.

Once in the hangar, Jayden found his Scythe and noticed most of the systems had been primed, thanks owed to his AI Lilith. "Welcome back Commander~" Lilith chimed as he climbed into the cockpit. "Thanks Lil, do we have anything to worry about with this outing?" Jayden asked while getting himself secured in, then closing the canopy with the neural interface.

"Ooh~ This is new. I almost feel you in the system. Oh right, ship diagnostics are reading green across the board, Commander." There was a bit of surprise in the ACE's voice, definitely interested in the robust 'Kraken' system on board.

"Prepare for launch..." Jayden said to Lilith, and then over Comms, "Thanatos Actual, this is Aquila 3. I am ready to launch."

Nero walked down the row of fighters to his Uno X. As he reached the bottom of the latter he patted the hull. He climed into the cockpit and secured himself. "Cipher, you ready buddy?" Nero asked as he grabbed his flight stick.

"As ready as I can be Sir." Cipher replied as the engines began spinning up.

Nero opened up his comms. "Thanatos Actual, this is Aquila 2, requesting permission to launch."

"Aquila 2, Thanatos Actual, you are go for launch. Good hunting." The gruff sounding operator said. "Aquila 3, Thanatos Actual. You are cleared for launch after Aquila 2. Good hunting." He added

"Roger that Thanatos Actual, out," Nero replied as he pulled his Uno over to the launch deck. Technicians ran over, hooking his plane into the catapult. One of the techs gave Nero a thumbs up. Nero flashed one back as the Uno was pulled into the launch tube. In the split second before the catapult shot Nero out of the tube, he yelled. "Crux, launching!" The catapult fired, pushing Nero back into his seat as he fired his own engines to give him more thrust. As he exited the tube, he pulled his craft away from the launch tube so the others could begin launching.

"Centrifuge online, Aquila 3 Launching." The engines on the Scythe were ready, but didn't provide any thrust whatsoever for the craft to move. Launched from the electromagnetic catapult through the tube, the CFS engaged to rocket the Scythe out from the tube, effectively causing the ship to fade into the black at the same time.

 

[Grey Library]

"Roger that, sir. I'll get right to it." Snapping a quick salute to the Commander, Miranda turned on her heel and walked out of the meeting room at a brisk pace, typing on her datapad as she left. "Help, notify the technicians to mount two N-F2 Drones and accompanying supplies for me, will you?" she murmured, eyes still focused on the readouts on-screen.

"Acknowledged, Pilot Bannings. The ground crew has been alerted to your request." Help's "eye" avatar appeared at the upper-right corner of the DataJockey's screen, the globe pulsing as the AI spoke. Suddenly, the "eye" flashed brightly and its pupil focused. "Pilot Bannings, the ground crew have submitted a notice regarding some recent modifications to your vehicle." Help intoned in its customary monotone as a popup window containing new data appeared. "Be advised that the Hornet's performance has been altered significantly."

"Got it, thanks for the heads-up. Let's go take a look at our new equipment, shall we?"

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"Quite impressive, isn't it?" Miranda commented as she gazed upon the refurbished Hornet, surrounded by engineers just beginning to pack up their tools and make way for the hangar crew to tow the vehicle into launch position. "It seems like they did some work on the engines, they seem pretty powerful now." she noted, her eyes trailing along the streamlined extensions at the rear of the Hornet's twin engines, easily visible by their contrast with the blocky engine housings. "What exactly did they add, Help?"

"Personnel from the Lazarus Consortium acting under Authority of the Nepleslia Star Navy have installed a Quantum/Nucleonic Cell Reactor coupled with an Induced Gamma Emission Engine in each of the Hornet's existing engines, modified to work in tandem with the Variable Impulse Magneto-Plasma Drive Systems already in place." Help intoned, digital avatar colascening into its holographic form as readouts displaying the new reactors began to appear on the datapad. "Wing width has been increased and the afterburners cannibalised to account for increased engine size and weight, increasing the Hornet's airspeed to be on par with the Scythe."

"Be advised, Pilot Bannings," the glowing orb flashed as the ACE AI stressed its next words to emphasize their importance. "maneuverability has been impaired and acceleration of the craft has not been raised proportionately. Furthermore, G-Force buffering across the craft has been affected as well, despite mitigation from the M10 Raider Power Armor."

"Operating at maximum velocity is...inadvisable." Help concluded, somewhat awkwardly.

"Right, I'll make sure to account for poorer acceleration and velocity bleed-off during turns. Thanks for the warning, Help." Chuckling softly to herself, Miranda reached out and "patted" Help's avatar in gratitude for the AI's concern. It was surprisng, but welcome nonetheless. Hopping into the open cockpit and transferring Help back into the Hornet's systems, the bombardier cracked her knuckles in anticipation as the canopy slid closed. "Let's hop to it then, shall we?"

With a keening wail, the Hornet's twin engines awoke and spat torrents of amber flame interspersed with ethereal bluish streams of plasma from the Consortium reactors, hurling the lumbering craft out of the launch tube like a blazing meteor. Pushing the throttle forwards, Miranda grinned in exhilaration as the Hornet shot forwards at almost three times its normal speed. Within minutes, the fighter-bomber was gone from view, a shining comet-trail marking its passage into the night in contrast to the black specters of its companions.

"This is Aquila 6, callsign "Spirit", departing for the mission area. Have a safe flight, everyone!"

 

[OsakanOne]

My'ean took long strides across the deck in what resembled the bastard child of vacuum wrap, an S&M getup of gleaming laminated latex and an army strapping system that attached matte black pockets via belts over her thighs, calves, the small of her back and some sort of vest. Her figure gleamed in back, highlighted in brown with white dual white trimlines running down her legs, arms and hips - highlighting her figure in a way a Nepleslian uniform couldn't even dream of even on the few times it sat properly on her alien proportion of longer legs and neck and sloped shoulders. She felt eyes on her self-consciously, the tall amazonian woman slowly remembering the cultural norms here weren't quite the same.

Gloved fingers of the vacuum sealed contact suit gave the outer ordanance a good shake-down, wrapping her hands over a number of panels with keen scrutiny.

Satisfied, dark green eyes watched the cockpit as she advanced. Hands on the boarding ladder. Firm steps up into the cockpit. Straps. Shuffling down into the pilot's couch. Comfortable, she got to the meat and potatos.

Without thought, her fingers were working banks of over-ride switches in the cockpit: a manual startup rather than a computer assisted auto-start into scramble-mode common on modern fighters.

Backup. Support. Mainline. Power. Motivators. Pumps. Conductors...

She fed some sort of small stick into a slot on in the cockpit as she flipped the computer out of its stand-by state of terminal form -- text dancing down the display and then graphics of nested wedding ring pie-charts indicating various core values of the power systems, dendriting white bubbles with progress bars appearing and working through manual check-lists as she kept going with the other systems manually.

Communications. Sensors. Battle information processing. Information data-link. Weapons control. Master caution signalled as the final approval -- index finger briefly tapping it as the final stages took care of themselves.

My'ean paused with a somewhat satisfied smile, hearing the massive centrifuge within the body spin up and then next the engines - the sound travelling down her spine in a way that made her grin like an idiot before working, shaking her head as if she'd just been told a dirty joke - a red ring about the heart of that nested ring array of system indicators, pulsating and flickering as it indicated the revs, temperature, polarization, throughput and other core values of the engines.

Cracking her knuckles through the suit, she whirled her index finger to the deck-crew, free-hand guiding the Scythe along the deck to hook onto the catapult as the canopy came down, locked and pressurized - the same hand then bringing online environmental controls.

She felt the plane forced still like a breaking car: head forward against the catapult as the plane was locked into place -- deck-plates rising to capture the exhaust.

A simple flaps and nozzle test: limbs of the fighter shifting as she heard the wing-tip apogee nozzles dialate and shift like the syphon of some great squid whirring mechanically.

"Aquila one, callsign Blackwolf, all nominal. Launching" she signalled: two fingers held together up at the deck-crew before then pointing forward as she opened up the throttle -- a shockwave through the deck as the hook yanked the fighter forward into what could be summed up as a rail-cannon built into the deck -- the acceleration at first making her teeth ring before the system stepped in with inertial compensators: the rush of the deck-work replaced with the stillness of space as if she'd come to a near instant stop: only markers indicating her ongoing velocity as she bolted out into the void.

She brought the Scythe up alongside the others: their flying V now a belated diamond formation: subtle twists of the stationary stick feeding impulses into the fighter's computer like riding a horse as she went off-axis: vector forward but drifting slowly with her exhaust forward, then her nose came up from beneath as she righted herself: getting a feel for the thing.

 

[paladinrpg]

【艦これViolin／Orchestral】 艦これのテーマ 「TAMUSIC」

NSS Thanatos

Sayoko saw the bashful bow of Virgil's head, and gave him a smile in return... there was no need to say anything more, as their personal moments together soon were melting away like pleasant dreams into the waking siren call to arms in the void of space. Flesh replaced by metal, tender lips replaced by deadly weaponry... still, they would be fighting together, and that was all that mattered to her in that moment.

It was not long before Lt. Mochizuki reached the armory near the flight deck, her green eyes noticing right away the black colored M10 "Night" Raider power armor that was set aside for her. The pilot carefully stepped backwards into the chest cavity and filled the empty, robotic limbs with her own, the cotton lined impact gel and nano musculature conforming to her curves and proportions. The straps secured and the chest plate closed up, clothing the woman in the raiments of battle much more suited to her than the blocky, limiting Hostile she was forced to use in the Uno X. The IPG-issue stealth model's zanarium coating and Mass Mesher Device were welcome additions -- should she ever be shot down again, this time in hostile territory, there would be a much greater degree of survival, not to mention the option for infantry-based intelligence missions should command ask it of her. Finishing her systems checks and sheathing the twin VCBS knives at the armor's hips, the Jiyuuian wasted no more time and headed towards her new craft that was waiting for her.

If the imposing Fyunnen My'ean in her tight suit was like an angel of battle, then the pilot known as "Banshee" seemed to represent the other end of the spectrum, a deadly devil striding out in the nearly-invisible jet-black armor onto the flight deck towards her aptly named Scythe. Climbing easily up into the cockpit, she took a moment to familiarize herself with the layout and interface with the SQUID-like neural control system. It was a very easy transition to make... utilizing the Jiyuuian design was like putting on an old familiar glove, unlike her other compatriots who may have a bit of a learning curve for this level of oneness between operator and spacecraft.

"Looking good, sis, looking good. We've both got upgrades it seems, check it out!" commented Shiori, as she ran down the various system statuses of Jayden's brainchild that now were zapped straight into the pilot's brain, having already done many of the pre-flight checks before she arrived. "That Commander has some great taste in tech, wouldn't you agree? Oh, and Kraken is reporting a successful encrypted wireless connection established through the emulator in your necklace to your digital brain, so we don't need to bother with the old-style manual controls unless you wish to."

"This does make it easier." Sayoko replied with at least a slight degree of enthusiasm, as the armored canopy began to close and seal around her, and grounds crews sped away to give her room to taxi. She mentally engaged the engines with but a thought now, second generation hyperspace tap reactors and QNC generators flaring to life, filling the capacitor arrays and propelling the Scythe forward down towards the launch catapult. "Thanatos actual, this is Aquila 4, requesting launch clearance," she transmitted, as the mechanism reset from hurling the flight lead's craft out into the void and hers locked into place behind it. The few seconds of delay were used to test her flight control surfaces and begin to spin up the gravitic centrifuges and CFS to readiness for when she had cleared the Thanatos.

Once she got the all clear from the traffic control, Sayoko found her body pulled forward then pushed back into the impact gel inserts of the armor as the gigantic catapult rocketed her to breakneck speed. Once the dampeners kicked in and her control was restored, the prototype craft's profile soon pulled up alongside her wingmates in formation, its distortion field glimmering faintly against the background of stars.

"Aquila 4, callsign Banshee, joining the operation. Good hunting, everyone."

 

[Whitehart]

Thanatos

Edward grinned both happily and smugly as he heard My'ean's answer to his question. He continued twirling his moustache as he sat contemplating the new assignment and watched everyone leave the briefing room and completely overlooking Jo in the back. He even seemed oblivious to the mention of his name between Nero and Miranda concerning the drones.

Once alone his datajockey ping seemed to be the only thing to shake him from his reverie. A small display showed Happy's face adorned in an antique style flight helmet and scarf. "Umm, you thinking of ever actually coming and, oh I don't know, flying? We got a formation to join bub," Happy said with a concerned look on his face.

"Yeah, yeah start the prep I'm on my way," Edward said realizing that he was alone. He raced off and made haste to change into a flight suit. While My'ean may have looked splendidly feminine and distracting, Edward looked under muscled and malnourished in comparison. As he reached the Scythe and climbed the ladder he noted Happy sitting in the cockpit as if he were the pilot.

Edward chuckled and moved quick to sit right on and through the projected ACE. Happy jumped in mock surprise and exclaimed in a creepy laughable tone, "I've waited so long for you to be inside me Edward." With a giggle the bouncing squirrel dissolved into a miniaturized version on the cockpit console.

Edward laughed and started typing into his consoles and uploading his various personal programs. "Happy, let's queue up and get launched. This is Aquila uhhh, crap what number am I again?"

Happy responded, "Seriously, you can do theoretical math in your head but you can't remember your flight number? And I thought I was the fur brained rodent but your plain nutty!"

"I knew I should have been a fan of Pappy the Penguin, but nooo I just had to be a fan of that tail...that sounded more gay than I wanted. Let's go, this is Aquila 7 moving up and requesting launch." Edward fine tuned his angles and, upon authorization he kicked the new Scythe into gear and blasted out into space.

He saw the gathered flight and moved into his assigned position sending an electronic handshake to each craft. Once linked up he spoke up, "Virus in position and coming to you live."

 

[SmokeEmpress]

NSS Thanatos - Briefing Room

Jo sat there while the others left. She was too focused on her own study of the notes she had on the new systems and her new craft to notice that Edward was still there. The whole situation was still a lot for her to take in. She knew that, when they were on the Oracle, there was the indication that their own Flight was at fault for what happened back at the training grounds. Jo still couldn't quite believe it, but there wasn't much she could really do about it at this time. She was just done with training herself. Now, though, their CO has become their XO and their XO has been demoted back to being just a part of the crew.

Still going through the information on her datajockey, a chime sounded. It wasn't for her...yet. She looked up and saw Edward leave, then looked around and noticed that she was the last to go...again. She got up, knowing that the flight had a new assignment, and had no idea just how well she would contribute to this crew, but by all that is holy...she will do her best. That was all that anyone could ever expect from her anyway.

====== Cigaro Family Ranch, Nepleslia Space, 11 years ago ======

"Alright, Jo," said the flight instructor that her Pa had finally agreed to teach Jo how to fly. They were seated in the small aircraft that was typically used for dusting the crops on planet. It wasn't space worthy, but it was able to, if needed, go up into the atmosphere higher than some of the others. "You remember what I showed you in the simulators?"

Jo nodded and smiled a bit, "Yes." She started up the engines and put her hand on the stick. For now, she only needed one as she went through the checks, flipping the right toggles to get things going within the cockpit. The two already had headsets on, so the instructor just watched as she went through the sequence correctly. "Good. Now ease out to the runway. And, since this is a private strip and there are no other crafts to worry about, you don't have to speak to a tower. But, for now, we'll just practice it between us. That way, you are used to it."

Nodding, Jo got the craft out of the "parking space" where it was and onto the runway. "Cigaro Tower, this is JoJo. Permission to take off?" She looked at the instructor, not quite sure if what she said was right.

He chuckled and shook his head, "Not quite, but it'll work for here. Usually, you'd just say 'Tower, JoJo. Requesting flight go ahead.'"

Blushing, the young teen nodded and knew she'd have that in mind for future use. "Much simpler." She then eased the throttle as she was taught and the plane quickly picked up speed. Using both hands now, she pulled back on the stick and rose into the air when the speed was at the optimum, not paying much attention as the instructor muttered at the same time what she was needing to do. She kept her eyes moving over the instrument panel as well as on the view as she flew, officially, for the first time. The instructor sat back, realizing that she had it all under control and just enjoyed the flight, glancing at the young teen, amazed at how quickly she took control. Most who are just learning hesitate at certain points, unsure of what to do. She banked and flew as if this wasn't her first time doing so.

Shaking his head, he let her go where she wanted, only saying after some time, "Alright, we need to head back. Ready to land this puppy?" Her shoulders slumped, but she looked at the gauges and sighed softly, "Alright. But we get to do more tomorrow...right?"

He laughed and nodded, "Right." She took the craft back to the small airport and, once more keeping her eyes on the gauges, landed the craft. The instructor was ready to take over, if needed, but once more...he was left just sitting there, chuckling. "You, girl, are a natural. You know that, right?"

Jo blinked and looked over at him once the craft was parked and the shutdown was once more taken care of. "What do you mean?"

"You are the first I have had, in a long time, that took off and landed so smoothly the first time. Even those who are older than you are not quite as competent."

====== Thanatos, Hangar, Present ======

Jo smiled a bit at the memory of how she had once done what she is about to do now: take on a new challenge of flying something that she had never flown before. What she had at the training facility was at least similar to what she had flown at home, even if the layout was slightly different. Now, though, with this new craft...it was a dual stick. And the Neural stuff. How will she be able to do that?

"Jethro, are you all settled in?"

"Yes, Jo. Systems are green here. It looks like you'll have a bit of a curve, but it shouldn't be too hard."

Jo was relieved as she got into her armor and then climbed up into the cockpit. "That's good. What about the Neural control? How am I to do that?"

"It's not needed. You can use manual controls, Jo. I'll compensate, if needed." Jo looked relieved as she went through the pre-flight checks. When the Scythe was ready to go, she used both sticks to move it into place and called over the headset, "Aquila Actual, Aquila 8. Ready for takeoff."

"Aquila 8, Aquila Actual. You are good for takeoff. Good luck out there."

She smiled a bit and nodded as she took off and joined the others. Though she was number 8, she stayed back for now. She just needed to get used to flying this craft...and she still didn't know where she was needing to be in the formation.

 

[FrostJaeger]

NSS Thanatos, Corridor

Alright, enough of this shit!

As he headed in the direction of the ship's hangars, one (still intoxicated) Milo Frost ducked into the one of the ubiquitous restroom facilities scattered throughout the superstructure; once inside, he made a beeline for the nearest stall, desperate for a bit of privacy - as what he was about to do would seem extremely insane to just about everyone else. So, Ms. Hallucination, are you being caused by a hacker or by drugs?


After several seconds, the LT sighed, brow furrowing in thought. Well, that settles that. At least whatever it is can't read my mind. Now for the part that's going to get me thrown in the asylum... "So, who the hell are you, and how did you hack my cybernetics?"


Almost instantaneously, the Nepleslian was awarded with a response, delivered in a very familiar voice - and (judging by the small window that had appeared in his field of vision once more) by a very attractive-looking redhead.

<*giggle* About time you noticed me! I am Consortium A.I. Serial Number KMY0452-9, also known as Kalmiya. A pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant Frost.>


For only the third (no, forth) time in his entire life, Milo was at a loss for words when spoken to by a member of the opposite sex - for upon hearing the word "Consortium," his addled mind had flashed back to what he'd been thinking of at the briefing moments ago, then to his delightful encounter with that Lorath psycho-something the day prior, where she'd given him..........

Oh....

With a loud sigh and an equally-loud smack! from his palm impacting his face, realization finally dawned on the fighter jock, who'd proceeded to flip open his arm's storage compartment - and take note of the object - connected to the internal dataport usually reserved for his DataJockey - that lay within. "Uhm, yo...I'm Milo..."

<Everything alright there? The amount of alcohol in your body is abnormally high.>

"You know, you could've identified yourself earlier."

<Yeah, I could've. Seeing your reaction, though, was priceless.>

Milo let out another sigh. Fucking brilliant...an AI with a sense of humor. Great...hold up. Why am I complaining about that? Laughing, the LT exited the restroom - then swore as, upon hearing the faint roar (and almost-imperceptible vibration) of a starfighter launching, he remembered the fact that he was supposed to be elsewhere at the moment. Fuckberries.

<Now would be a very good time to leave!>

Despite his ever-growing concern over tardiness (he, after all, did have a reputation to maintain), the pilot smiled as he broke into an all-out sprint, sarcastically replying "No, really?" and grinning at the equally-sarcastic response.

<Really.>

Milo chuckled. Well, fuck......this whole babysitter thing might, crazily enough, actually be decent after all.


A few minutes (and another fighter launch) later, the fighter pilot could be seen skidding to a halt in front of the entryway that led into one of the gigantic Assault Carrier's Power Armor Bays; after waiting for the aforementioned bay's (incredibly massive) blast doors to cycle their way open, he dashed to the nearby console for the purposes of locating his Hostile - only to scowl and issue a lengthily string of curses after a couple of moments.


They'd reassigned him a worthless, piece-of-shit M10 Raider in lieu of the LT's battle-hardened, combat-tested, damn-near-impossible-to-kill M8 Hostile. It wasn't the vast difference in the two unit's specifications that pissed him off (sure, it was annoying as hell, but he could live with it) - rather, it was the fact that the higher-ups had taken away one of the last tangible remnants he had of the Talons, for the Hostile he'd been assigned to (up until a few hours ago, according to the log entry displayed on the console) had been with him through Hell and back. Fucking sons of Neko-frakking assholes....


Growling in frustration, the pilot jogged over to where the Raider was - thus making his way down to the room's first floor, because they just had to store the damn thing as far away from him as possible - and, having at long last arrived at his new PA, was on the verge of stepping into the thing's cotton-lined impact-gel interior when a thought occurred to him. "Yo, Kalmiya...you want to be plugged into the armor itself?"

<Sure, why not...> - a pause - <...Yank me.>

With a single fluid motion, Milo popped open his arm's storage compartment and withdrew the small, amber-colored marble within, frowning in thought as he did so. Now where to put you.........AHA!


Grinning, the LT reached up and behind the powered armor's slumped-forward form, feeling for a small, barely-noticeable release button (pausing briefly as he heard the much-louder roar of a third ship taking off); a couple of seconds later, his fingers found their mark and, pushing downwards, caused a small panel to lift up and reveal an even-smaller, seemingly useless storage compartment that was just large enough to contain Kalmiya.


As he inserted the aforementioned Construct into the also-aforementioned compartment, Milo once again uttered a word of thanks to whatever had granted him such...talents with the ladies - for it had been from one of said ladies (a cute maple-skinned technician by the name of Heather Toracinta) that had told him about the release in the first place (the Raiders, apparently, had in YE 33 been refitted with the compartment in anticipation of running the Precipice system; with the introduction of the ACE AI the following year, such modifications were proven to be unnecessary, however the space itself was left intact - for it, according to Heather, would've been costlier to undo the change then to simply keep it.)


Reminiscing aside, the fighter jock finished closing up the panel; following this, he cautiously stepped back into the PA's interior, the LT's discomfort at such a means of entry quite evident, given that he was used to the Hostile's "jump-in" method of entry - though such discomfort transformed into outright panic as, upon sealing itself, adjusting to his five-foot-ten frame, and securing the internal restraints, nothing happened. No lights, no sounds - apart from the (muted) roar of yet another launch -, not even one of the dreaded "Blue Screen of Doom" error messages...nothing.


As one can probably guess, Milo started sweating bullets - for the sensation of being trapped inside a disabled PA was starting to dredge up the memories of old.


Fortunately for the fighter jock, the deathly-silent darkness didn't last long; after a few seconds, the Raider's systems (including the HUD) sprang to life.

<Sorry about that...I was having a little bit of difficulty booting her up.>

"Motherfrakking...don't scare m-wait, what?"

Unfortunately for the fighter jock, reality (somehow) got even crazier for him as the silky-yet-sardonic voice of the gorgeous Kalmiya was joined by another - this one with an avatar that practically radiated cuteness.

<Ehmmmmmmmm......H-H-Hello...>

Are you frakking serious? I mean, she's pretty and all, but... With a grunt, the pilot took his first steps in the M10; with a curse, he stumbled slightly, not quite used to the sheer responsiveness of the lighter armor. "Kalmiya, wha-" - the Lor's (Aiesu's) reminder of "Treat her with respect because how you treat her to begin with is going to shape how she treats you over the next four years or so." echoing through his head" caused him to trail off - "...why didn't you say anything about having a sister?"

<*chuckle* Because she was only created 5.9926 seconds ago. Milo, say hello to Sif, an Agent that helps emulate the functions of your military's ACE AIs.>

So that's why the armor took so fucking long to start itself up. "Yo, Sif. I'm Lieutenant Milo Frost...though I'm chill with just being called Milo." While saying this, the fighter jockey grabbed a LCA and two VCBS knives, sheathing the latter and carrying the former.

<Oh, so you introduce yourself to her but not me? I see how it is.>
<H-H-Hi M-Milo.........>

Milo facepalmed - or tried to, at least - as he waited for another set of blast doors - these leading into the Fighter Bay itself - to open. Smooth, bro. Smooth as fucking sandpaper. "Sorry about that...though she, unlike some people I know, didn't scare me at first."

<Another crew member has been scaring you a lot?>

The LT - now in the aforementioned Bay itself - froze mid-stride, then continued onwards. That was odd......whatever. Probably just a personality quirk or something.


It was then that the pilot - after hearing (and feeling) an extremely large craft take off - realized that he'd forgotten to do something kind of, you know, important earlier.


He'd neglected to check and see which ship he was actually supposed to be flying - which was a mistake that greenhorn pilots made, not (relatively) seasoned flyers like Lieutenant Frost. Clusterfuck. "Kalmiya, mind looking up what exactly I'm supposed to be flying?" If it's not in this hangar, I fucking swear...

<Let's see...ship's inventory shows that you, Lieutenant Frost, are assigned to a Na-YF/A-6X "Scythe" located in slot C-11-419. Uploading a Nav Point to your HUD now.>

Milo winced as the marker appeared - for the indicated berth was on the cavernous hangar's opposite end. That's twice now...fucking brilliant. "Guess we should get movin', then."

<That would probably be a good idea, seeing as how almost everyone else has launched already.>

The PA-clad LT ran.




NSS Thanatos, Hangar Bay 2 - Berth C-11-419

The sight that awaited Milo as he approached the indicated berth was enough to stop him in his tracks - not out of fear, mind you, but out of sheer awe, for before him lay a...majestic looking, onyx-colored starfighter. He whistled. "Damn.........now that is what I call a sexy beast. W-" The deafening roar - muted to something much quieter a half-second later by one of the AIs - of a fifth launch, however, was enough to make the pilot scramble madly up the ship's boarding ladder (past the handful of startled ground crew wandering about) and throw his PA-clad posterior into the ship's cockpit, barely managing to secure the LCA into the space behind the pilot's chair while doing so.


Once inside, the Nepleslian's hands were a blur as he brought the ship's - Scythe's - numerous systems online, humming an old melody from a game played in his childhood to himself.

FlightCon Surfaces - Secure
Life Supp. Tog. - Offline
Pri. HyperTap/Sec QNC Reactors (The hell's a "QNC Reactor"?) - Initialized

Pow. Dist., Port - Active
Man. Canop. Hand. - Stowed
Pri/Sec CPU - Online
MultiFreq/IFF - Auto
Comms - Set
Las., Rad., Sub., Tach., Hyper. (Impressive.) - Set
Instru. Land Sys. - Set
Master Swi. - Norm
Crpyt. Swi. - Set
Comms - Enabled
VolumeCon Tog. - Set
GEN-TIECon Swi. (...ah, Generator Tie-In Control.) - Norm, Guard Down
Gain Swi. - Norm
Refuel - Retract
ExtTank Swi - Norm
Dump Swi. - Off
InterWing Swi. - Norm
Ext. Light - Set
Throttles - Off
FTL MasterCon Swi. - Off
MultiVec Mic. Thrust. - Offline
Park. Brake - Set
Land/Taxi Swi. - Off
FlapCon Swi. - Set
Select. Jetti. - Safe
LandGear Hand. - Down
Canop. Jetti. - Forward

MastArm Swi. - Safe
MastArm Swi. ReCheck - Safe
FIRE/APU FIRE Warn. Light - Not Pressed
HUD - Standby
Posit. Sour. - Select/Auto
Comm 1/2 Tog. - Off
ADF Swi. - Off
EWar Mode - Off
Flare Dispen. - Off
Chaff Dispen. - Off
PD PhaLas Array - Off (That's a lot of PD systems...)
KRAKEN (KRAKEN? ...Never heard of, skip.)
Snakeskin (Stealth, too? Man...talk about complex...) - Off
Aux. Release Swi. - Norm
IR Cool. Swi. - Off
TumbRec Swi. - Off, Guard Down

Pow. Dist., Star. - Active
CFS (Time out. CFS as in Yammie CFS? The fuck?) - Standby
CSSA - Standby
Winglet Posit. Mode Han. - Lowered
Wing Posit. Mode Han. - Lowered
FCS Cool. Swi. - Norm
MultiSpatial Ref. Altimet. - Off
Gen. Swi. - Norm
Batt. Swi - Off
HyperCap Arr. - Offline
EnerMatt. Conver. (...What? Sounds important, though.) - Online
ECS Sys. - Set
Mode Swi. - Auto
Temp. Tog. - Position 10
Cabin Press. - Norm
Bleed Air Tog. - Norm, Down
Eng. Anti-Ice Swi. - Off
Sens. Anti-Ice - Auto
Defog Han. - Mid
Canop. Anti-Ice Swi. - Off
Nutri. Feed (...Again, what?) - Offline
ECS Sys. - Enabled
InterLight - Enabled
Sens. - Disabled

As the familiar roar of the starfighter's Hyperspace Tap Reactors (along with the not-so-familiar thrum of something else) could be heard, Milo was pleasantly surprised to find himself finished with a good 15 seconds of the song to spare - strange, considering that even with the nimbleness granted by the Raider, he shouldn't have been to move that quickly. That, and I know I saw the controls move themselves before I touched them...so what the fuck is going on, and why do I feel a bit...weird? "Kalmiya...are you helpin' with the pre-flight checklist or somethin'? I keep seeing shit occur before I actually touch the controls."

<That's actually the KRAKEN system, Milo, not me...it basically translates your thoughts into actions, bypassing the lag caused by your body's reflexes.>

Oh, so it's kinda like having that fancy shit the Yammies are so fucking arrogant about. FUCK YEAH!

"Alright, let's see how this KRAKEN works..."

Batt. Op. - Check
> Batt. Swi. (Holy shit, controlling this with my brain is frickin' epic!)
Emerg. Batt. (Damn, looks like I still have to read things manually.) - Pass
> Batt. Swi.
Util. Batt. - Pass
Batt. Op. - Pass
Fire Warn. Sys. - Test
FIRE Light - Pass
APU FIRE Light - Pass
LBleed Light - Pass
RBleed Light - Pass
Fire Warn. Sys. - Pass
> APU Swi. - On
> Throttle - M1, Idle
> Eng. Init. Swi. - M1
> HUD - Enabled
IFEI/EMI - Check
> Bleed Air Tog. - Cycle
IFEI/EMI - Pass
> Throttle - M3, Idle
> Eng. Init. Swi. - M3
> Throttle - M2, Idle
> Eng. Init. Swi. - M2
> Eng. Init. Swi. - Off
Eng. Init. Swi. ReCheck - Off
> APU Swi. - Off

> EWar Mode - Auto
> Flare Dispen. - Auto
> Chaff Dispen. - Auto
> MultiWav. Warn Recvr. - Enabled
> InterNavSys - Enabled
> Sens. - Standby
> Wing Posit. Mode Han. - Raised, Locked
FCS Reset Btn. - Press
Life Supp. Tog. - Standby
APU Swi. ReCheck - Off
> MultiSpatial Ref. Altimet. - Set
> MultiSpatial Ref. Altimet. - Pass
> Sens. - Enabled, Auto
> HyperCap Array - Online, Auto
> MultiVec Mic. Thrust. - Online

As the Scythe's armored canopy began to close (accompanied by the satisfying clunk of the wings locking into place) and the ground crews scattered, the fighter jock - rather bewildered at just how mind-numbingly fast the KRAKEN responded - began taxiing towards the nearest elevator after testing the ship's "normal" brakes and steering. "Kal-my bad, Siv...mind running a quick diagnostic on the weapons and engines?"

<O-O-Okay......>

By then, the strike craft had reached its destination (being parked at the far end of the hangar placed it practically next to said elevator); as the YF/A-6X slowly ascended, Milo performed the last remaining pre-launch checks -

> Canop. Stat. - Closed
> Life Supp. Tog. - Online
> MultiFreq/IFF - Active
> InterNavSys - Check
> InterNavSys - Pass
> Park. Brake - Stowed
> LaunchBar - Extend
Warn/Caution Light. Off - Check
Warn/Caution Light. Off - Pass
Eng. Instru. - Check
Eng. Instru. - Pass

- and made sure to test each of the vehicle's numerous flaps. As the predatory-looking fighter emerged from the below like one of the monsters of lore and rolled forward a half-dozen meters to the Bay's launching system, Siv's quiet, incredibly-nervous voice could be heard over the internal speakers of the Raider.

<D-Diagnostic complete. All weapons and engines are f-functioning as normal.>

"Thanks; Thanatos FlightCon, this is Aquila......10, requestin' permission to depart."

<Y-You're w-w-welcome!>

Milo smiled. Gotta love that combo of being cute, shy, and adorable as hell.

While the hangar's flight-deck crew attached the catapult's launch bar - thus bringing the Scythe to a rather abrupt halt - and raised the blast-shield to protect against the searing maelstrom of super-heated exhaust, the Nepleslian received a bored-sounding "Aquila 10, Thanatos Flight Control. 'Bout time you got your lazy ass on over...permission granted."

Fuck you too, asshole. "Uh...FlightCon, signal's a bit weak...you mind performing a comms check?" The trap is set...



NSS Thanatos, Hangar 2 - Flight Control

Said flight controller - a wet-behind-the-ears, fresh-outta-training Junior Crewman by the name Jared Posey - let out a long, drawn-out sigh of exasperation, for his shift was supposed to have ended 10 minutes earlier. That is, until the lazy-ass fucktard known as Aquila 10 had to fucking get lost trying to find his ship or something. Fricking dumbass jocks.

Grimacing, Jared maxed the gain on his headset. "Aquila 10, Flight Control. Go ahead."



NSS Thanatos, Hangar 2 - Launch Bay

With an diabolical smile plastered over his face, the LT grinned. The trap is sprung!

<Uh, Milo...our communication systems are functioning normally.>

"Yeah, they are."

<So what's the point of...>

The Nepleslian laughed. "Payback, Kalmiya. That asshat probably has his speaker volume turned way up.

<Oh.> - a pause - <Ohhh...clever!> - another pause - <How much trouble are we going to be in?>

"Nothin' major" was the pilot's reply as he and a member of the flight-deck personnel exchanged the hand signals of "Release Brakes." "FlightCon, Aquila 10. Broadcastin'...now." Who's yo daddy now, fuckers?



NSS Thanatos, Hangar 2 - Flight Control

At the next console over, the operator's partner-in-crime (and senior-ranking buddy), Crewman Darius Hunter, glanced over. "Everything good?"

"Yeah...just some asshole wanting to perform a 'comm check,' whatever the fuck that is."

Time seemed to slow to a crawl for Darius as he made a dive for his junior's controls - for he, unlike the far newer Posey, knew what the actual meaning of a "comm check" was. "NOOOOOO!"


As one Milo Frost had demonstrated earlier, however, organic reflexes (no matter how impressive) simply can't compare with their electronic counterparts - as evidenced by the fact that the music that blasted from the headset of poor Jared. "MOTHERFUCKING DOUCHEBAG! YOU'LL PAY FOR THIS!"



NSS Thanatos, Hangar 2 - Launch Bay

Milo smiled at the chaos that had to be occurring in FlightCon; with a grin, the LT slammed the throttle forward (Some things you just gotta do by hand!), transforming the (relatively) loud whine of the starfighter's engines into a eardrum-piercing ROAR - though said grin soon became a grimace as, upon retracting the ship's Launch Bar with another thought-command, the strike craft was sent hurling forward into what essentially was an oversized mass driver.


Said mass driver, of course, then proceeded to accelerate man and machine to obscenely high velocities in a fraction of second. Not that Milo cared, of course - for he loved this kind of thing. Granted, the sensation of practically being flattened by G-forces while the walls of the launch tube blurred on by wasn't exactly fun - but for one Lieutenant Frost, it was completely and totally worth it, as evidenced by his shout of "BOOOOOOOYAHHHHHHHH!"



SPAAAAAAACE!

Thankfully, it wasn't long before the crushing presence of physics was reduced via the wondrous marvel of inertial-compensation technology; after throttling back slightly and admiring the glorious sonata of the stars for a few seconds, the LT focused back in on the task at hand - namely, catching up with the rest of the Aquilas. "How far behind are we?"

<You don't want to know...but, I'll mark a waypoint on the HUD anyways.>

Milo winced at just how many klicks there were between him and the rest of the squadron. That's......a fuckton of numbers. Shit. "Please tell me this bird has boosters equipped."

<I-I-I-I-It d-does.>

"Swagalicious. Well, here goes...............hot damn!" Having activated said boosters (and thus getting smashed backwards into the PA's interior lining once more), the fighter jockey's outburst came when he attempted to maneuver - usually something that was nigh-impossible in starfighters due to the sheer amount of force exerted by their already-powerful engines being overcharged - and discovered that the Scythe, even with afterburners enabled, was still more responsive then he'd ever recalled the Quattros being. Holy fucking shit this thing is amazing...

<Having fun?>

Laughing, the Nepleslian did a few snap-rolls as the distance indicated by the marker continued to drop; finally, roughly a dozen seconds after launching, Aquila 10 joined up with his fellow pilots - and, at long last, announced his presence. "Aquila 10, callsign Jaeger, bringin' the party!"

 

[Gunhand4171]

Space!!!

Nero pulled his craft into the lead position of the diamond formation, allowing Myean to take the center position. He listened in silence as he waited for his flight to take off. One by one they launched until he finally heard from the last of his pilots.

"Guard Dog, launching." Leo grunted as the catapult pushed him back into his seat. He activated his main engines and move into position.

Nero checked that all pilots were in place. "Looks like we have everyone." He commented. "Thanatos actual, Aquila 2. We are now enroute to our AO (Area of Operation.)"

"Aquila 2, Thanatos actual. Roger that, we are now turning you over to the Oracles bridge crew. They will act as your AWACS (Aerospace Warning and Control System) for this operation." The Thanatos control stated.

As the control finished, a familiar voice came over the Aquila's comms. "Aquila Flight, this is Alexandria Winters designation "Oracle Actual." I will be your combat controller for this sortie. I am now transmitting the coordinates to you all."

Nero looked down as Cipher pinged that that data transfer was complete. "Aquila 2 copies all. Over and out." Nero opened a channel to his flight. "All right ladies and gentlemen, we have our orders. Be prepared for anything. This might seem like a milk run, but one lapse in concentration might kill you so stay sharp." He said as Cipher plotted his course. He received notifications from the other ACEs that they had done the same.

"Okay, all units prepare for FTL travel." He looked down at his console and watched as his vogel drive began to spin up. Once it was ready and the rest of the flight had peeped their ships he opened his comms again. "Aquila Flight, go FTL in 3, 2, 1..." As he finished, he initiated his vogel drive.

 

[Grey Library]

"...primary systems check passed. Liquid-Metal Coolant System reported minor software issues with the new adapter valves, errors solved by Lazarus Consortium cross-compatibility software. Stage 1 Post-Maintenance Testing complete at 16 27 NMT, results logged in flight records."

"Right, thanks. Commence Stage 2 Testing on aileron and throttle control software, check if the new wings caused any bugs in the system." A cheery tune playing softly in the background while she worked, Miranda busied herself with inspecting the Hornet's flight instruments and logging down the craft blasted its way through space at superluminal velocity. The chunky fighter-bomber was never intended to travel at such speeds, Help and her were deep into uncharted territory just to stay in formation. The bomber was doing surprisingly well so far despite exceeding its maximum performance many times over however, the hybrid engines were churning out amber/turquoise flames at an even rate with no visible signs of stress. There was a slight hit to fuel efficiency though, which she noted down in her flight log with a few quick taps on her DataJockey.

"Hmm, seems that everything's going well so far. Remind me to thank the engineers for their good work, will you?" Taking her hands off the controls, Miranda leaned back and stretched in her seat, giving off a satisfied yawn as she settled in and let the autopilot do its work. Hoisting out a thermos from one of the cockpit's many compartments, the bomber pilot poured herself some tea to pass the time. In the stuffy and slightly chilly interior of the hull, the piping hot beverage was a relaxing treat.

Drink in hand, Miranda idly called up the status of the pair of N-F2 Drones attached to her craft, when it suddenly struck her that she hadn't really spoken to Virus much, save for the altercation back at the hangar a few days ago. "Sheesh, forgetful as always," she muttered under her breath as she opened up a comm channel to the man's craft. "Spirit here," she began, idly blowing away a trail of steam from her cup. "We didn't really start off on a bright note, did we? I hope this won't cause any bad blood between the two of us."

"Virus and Happy, was it? Pleased to meet you."

 

[Whitehart]

"Sir, could you please pause your game? You have a pending communication from Spirit. I bet you she wants to be your giiiiiiirlfriend! It would do you well to socialize a little more with the flight anyway," Happy said from his position on a nearby console. He was dressed in a very rambo-esque costume.

Edward paused his Cry of Duty game and turned to the communication console. He rolled his eyes at the girlfriend comment. He had better things to do then get 'romantically' involved. In fact he had never been in that sort of relationship. All his friends have constantly reminded him that he may not even be Nepleslian, what with his disinterest in both relationships and firearms.

He flipped on the tight beamed communicator and spoke up, "Hey Spirit. Nice to hear from you. A bright note? Uh, I'm not really sure what you mean. What can I, or my fluffy tailed companion do you for?"

 

[Grey Library]

"Ah, it's nothing. Seeing as we'll be working together for this mission, I thought it would be best to know you and your partner better." Waving a hand in a dismissive "never mind" gesture, Miranda set down her steaming cup and sat up straight as Help's holographic avatar coalesced just above her left shoulder. "This is Help, my companion. Nice to meet you two, I hope we'll get along." she continued, punctuating her words with a short bow.

"I am Pilot Spirit's assigned ACE AI, designated 'Help'." The virtual "eye" intoned, its cyclopean gaze staring into the screen. Whatever little features the orb-shaped cloud of glowing pixels had remained firmly unreadable as the AI concluded in a synthetic monotone. "It is a pleasure meeting you, Pilot Virus, Intelligence Happy."

"Oh, don't mind that. Help's still learning, he's still not used to this." Chuckling, Miranda gently swatted at the glowing orb, causing it to scatter with an electronic crackle and reform on her other side. "Happy, was it...?" the bombardier trailed off, fixing the cartoonish squirrel avatar with a scrutinizing gaze. A short while later, she sighed and shook her head.

"I don't think I recognize him, unfortunately." Miranda relented, with a sheepish look on her face as she turned towards Edward for help. "His persona seems pretty important to you, may I ask what you've based him off on?"

 

[Lamb]

It was amazing how the pilots in Aquila Flight seemed to have a personality range that simply flew off the charts. Some, like Leo and Milo were mountains of explosive, unpredictable personality. Others, like Miranda and Ed, were verdant forests with rich wildlife of interaction waiting to be poached. Others still were dark valleys with secrets buried beneath enigmatic masks covered even more with fashion and personal grooming choices and whatever personality statement Sayoko was making with that scarf. To continue the geographic analogy, Virgil Canton was an island. Tourism was accepted, even welcome. Sayoko had even ended up shipwrecked on his sandy shores. But in the sky (or in this case, space) the pilot needed nothing else in the galaxy to sustain him. Even maintaining formation instead of weaving between gravity fields and zipping between debris was a great pleasure to the young man who held the controls of his fighter as naturally as his elbows held his forearms and his ankles held his feet. Before he even knew it, they were in FTL. Folding space like an oragami sculpture on their way to an ultimate target where, fate willing, there'd be some fairly harmless dogfighting where strangers would end up dead and loved ones would survive to smile again.

The handsome murderer in the flight suit smiled right then, either at the prospect or just to be sure he at least got to smile one more time.

But, of course, he remained silent.