trans_9 | Tyger, Tyger, burning bright [OPEN]

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Tyger, Tyger, burning bright [OPEN]

It hadn't taken Trudy very long to find out that aircraft and spacecraft were sometimes recovered with their pilots - and when she found that out, she had immediately gone in search of the hangar. She had her rifle and her dog tags - if she had her Samson, she would have everything she needed out of life.

The pod cavern should have prepared her for how huge the ship was, but when Trudy finally came to the hangar, with its assortment of craft in all shapes and sizes, she was thoroughly impressed with the vastness of her new home. The amount of ships here was staggering, and Trudy wandered through them with a grin plastered to her face. Man, I'd love to get inside some of these babies and see how they handle - or how they work...

A flash of blue and orange caught her eye and she turned, seeing her Samson sitting there. The grin on her face faltered a little as she crossed to it. The painted tiger on the door was stitched with bulled holes, and the copter as a whole was scorched almost black with soot. "Hey baby," she said, running her hand lovingly across the nose. "Looks like you came out of this a lot worse than I did. Pobrecita,"

She opened the door and hoisted herself up into the cockpit. The lever that would have popped the hood produced nothing but a tortured squeal. Apparently the mechanism had been damaged in the explosion. Trudy made a face and began digging through the cockpit for her tools.

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Wedge had been attracted from his own craft by the squeal. He wandered towards the Samson, a greasy rag slung over one shoulder. He was rather difficult to miss, though, being dressed as usual in the eye-hurting bright orange of his flight suit. He paused, watching the woman and her craft for a moment before approaching. She looked new.

"Looks like you had a rough time..." He gently touched a hand to the holes in the armor. Kinetic weaponry? Perhaps.

Trudy looked up, her eyes going straight to he man in the flight suit. Wow, that's... really damn orange. He touched the door and Trudy felt her possessive streak rise, hopping down out of the cockpit with her toolbox in her hand. "That's an understatement," she said. "Bebe shows it better than me, but I'm betting I should be dead." She made her way around to the front of the nose, accidentally passing in between Wedge and the door.

She crawled down underneath the belly of the copter, searching by touch for the seams where the metal should join, the hinge that should make it open for her to check the engine. "Does that eyesore you're wearing make you a pilot?"

Wedge took a respectful step back. He knew a protective pilot when he saw one. He just smiled and crouched down, watching her go to work. She seemed capable and non-nonsense. That was good.

"It does, actually. I'm General Wedge Antilles, commanding Rogue Squadron here aboard Stacy." He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder towards the x-wings a short distance off.

"We fly the T-65B X-Wing."

That was not a model Trudy had heard before, and she gave her Samson a quick pat, reassuring it that it was only professional curiosity that made her poke her head out from under the copter and look in the direction Wedge was pointing.

The sleek lines of the X-wings definitely caught her eye. Trudy had never been a fighter pilot - the SO had needed her for evac and there were always more door gunners than copter pilots on Pandora. But every pilot wants the best and fastest - and she was no exception. She gave a low whistle and crawled out from under the Samson. "Captain Trudy Chacon - is that an atmosphere craft?"

"It can be. It's a space superiority snubfighter by design, though. Four laser cannons, two proton torpedo launchers, particle and ray shielding, and hyperdrive. One of the most solid and dependable fighters out there." He had to appreciate the admiring whistle. Plus, letting people know about his ships was fun.

"What about yours?" He wasn't trying to be disparaging. To the contrary, he was genuinely interested in the Samson. He'd never seen anything quite like it.

"SA-2 Samson, mine's number sixteen. Primarily a cargo and personnel transport, although it can be used as a fighter craft in a pinch. Tilt-rotor helicopter, two detachable and remote-operable door guns, no payload. It's an atmosphere craft by virtue of the fan rotors - can't really use those when there's no air to use them with." Trudy had not missed the 'laser canon' and 'proton torpedo' bit of Wedge's speech. "I'm guessing you're not from my universe, since laser weapons are a bit beyond our technology."

She put her toolkit down near her Samson and crossed the hangar to the X-wings, keeping her hands to herself as she admired them - she was possessive about her copter, she supposed he was the same about his ships. "Rogue Squadron, huh? You guys must be the military unit I heard about."

Wedge took in the information with a nod, looking up at the rotors. Ah. A primitive type of repulsorlift technology, then. Interesting.

"I doubt that we are. Unless interplanetary travel and galactic civil war are a normal thing for where you come from." He replied as they headed back across the hanger. He smiled, leaning over to pat his fighter, then ducked under the wing to get at the open engine access panel.

"That's us. We're always looking for more pilots too. Especially ones who have some experience." He said, grunting as he tightened a bolt. "And I was just giving the engines a quick look. Don't fly much, but we have to make sure our fighters are in top shape."

"Interplanetary travel, yes - if you don't mind being in cold sleep for as long as it takes to get to your destination." Trudy didn't like cold sleep much herself, but it beat the alternative. "Galactic civil war is new, though. I thought we had enough problems with wars on our own planet."

Trudy was silent for a minute as she looked at the X-wings. "I'm an atmosphere pilot, and I wasn't even a fighter pilot while I was still with the Marines. Don't know how much use I'll be to you in a snubfighter."

"Cold sleep--?" Wedge turned to look at her, a bit startled. Such a thing was...ancient. Far, far back into history. So far back that it was more a rumor than fact. From before hyperdrives, the Hyperspace Wars, the mapping of the galaxy. He whistles quietly.

"Stang. That's quite a way to travel." He shook his head, then glanced back at his fighter.

"Doesn't matter. We have a couple volunteers who hadn't flown at all before this. The important thing is getting willing folks who want to help keep the people here safe. And it doesn't hurt if you're a good hand with small arms, either."

Trudy was starting to grin a little. She could imagine herself in the seat of one of those fighters, certainly. And the thought of learning how to pilot a craft that maneuverable in space? It made her itch to get in the cockpit.

"Every Marine is a rifleman," she said automatically before realizing that Wedge would have no idea what that meant. She of course had her rifle slung over her back. "I can shoot - had to, or they wouldn't have graduated me from military training. And if you don't mind my pretty steep learning curve, sign me up. Being out of the air too long makes me antsy. You guys don't train on these babies, do you? You've got sims around here somewhere?"

Wedge grinned. He was liking Trudy more and more. He nodded at the rifle, looking it over for a moment.

"Good. Hopefully it shouldn't be too different from a blaster." He patted the pocket for his own blaster pistol on his flight suit. "And we train in the Sensoriums. They're kind of strange, but they get the job done."

< I hope whatever fight this was, you had come out a bit better than your ship, > Elfangor said. He liked exploring the Hangar, just to see what ships were there and had seen her approach this one. Considering what shape it was in, it was perfectly logical to assume it was because she knew the ship type if it wasn't her own.

At least this blue alien wasn't as tall as the ones Trudy was used to?

"Well it shoots bullets instead of lasers, but the basic principle is the same." Trudy moved to the other side of the X-wing, inspecting the lines. "Where does it get its name from?" she asked, as she craned her neck up at the wings, her eyes tracking over the engines.

It wasn't anything like the ships she was used to - except for its aerodynamic lines, Trudy couldn't see a single thing that was familiar. This was going to take a lot of getting used to.

The thought-speak made her jolt, smacking her head on the doorway of the cockpit hard enough that it made her teeth click together. "Fuck, ow." She turned to look at the alien, taking in the eye stalks, bladed tail, the hooves... he was so beyond her experience that Trudy couldn't help but stare for a moment.

Then she shook herself out of it. "I'm willing to bet that if Stacy hadn't nabbed me and my baby here, we'd both be in several pieces right about now." She patted the bulkhead. "What kind of alien are you?"

< Are you all right? > Elfangor asked as she hit her head.

The eye stalks scanned over the ship again. < Very possibly. If the fight wasn't near over, it'd be very lucky to keep this ship together, even for a skilled pilot, > he said. He should know. He'd flown some junkers in crazy situations and he still wasn't sure how he wasn't dead.

< I am an Andalite. My name is Elfangor. >

"I'm fine, just not used to the whole telepathy thing," Trudy said, hopping down out of the cockpit. Even if he did look pretty threatening, so far he seemed a lot more polite than some of the other aliens she had met today.

She ran her hand over the tiger painted on the door, her fingers lingering on the bullet holes. That had been a near miss regardless of the missiles screaming toward her later. "The odds weren't great in the first place," she said. "We were outmanned and outgunned... practically a suicide mission. Waking up alive and in one piece is a definite improvement. I'm Captain Trudy Chacon - does your species shake hands?" The Na'vi didn't, she knew. Although maybe it was because they would have to bend practically in half to shake hands with a human.

< Ah. I'm sorry, but as you can see, there's not much option for verbal communication, > Elfangor said. No mouth and all.

< Is that so? Then it seems Stacy has awaken a good person for the crew, > Elfangor commented. Because only noble people did suicidally stupid missions and haven't gone on a rant about their goal was already.

< The Andalites do not. We're generally not a very touchy species, especially when compared to the humans. Though Aximili and I are rather used to human customs. >

"Yeah I... can see," Trudy said, and truth to tell she was a little weirded out by that. But hey, the Na'vi glowed in the dark. Weird was relative. "And I've heard about the war we're supposed to be fighting - how do you fight an enemy you've never even seen?" She shook her head. "At least we knew what we were up against."

< ...it seems I'm still lacking in humor, > Elfangor said. Hey, he tried.

< It could be worse. Fighting an enemy you can't see because it's in another species is more problematic. At least the Ohm do not have a hostage for every soldier. > If they existed. It might have been a lie, but that was neither here nor there.

Trudy smiled a little. That had been a joke? "It might be funny a few days from now when I'm used to the way you look - no offense or anything. You're the..." she took a moment to think, "fourth alien species I've met in one day, my brain's not capable of handling humor right now."

And then she made a face. "Parasitic enemy aliens? That's even worse than ten-foot tall enemy aliens riding dragons." Not that they were enemy aliens to Trudy, not anymore, but the comparison still applied.

< It's been my general experience that humor helps to lessen awkward and tense situations. Though I have never been good with jokes. > Elfangor admitted. < If I am the fourth obviously very strange one, then it won't be long until you've seen all them. Most of the aliens look a great deal like humans. > For whatever reason. It was really quite strange how that worked out, especially compared to the races of his own universe.

< At least the ten foot tall dragon riding aliens are consistent both in biology and no extra moral questioning aside from whether or not it's okay to kill the enemy that's trying to kill you. >

"That's plenty of moral questioning, trust me," Trudy said, with the air of someone who was all too used to the kind of ethical morays that came along in war. Not that what had happened on Pandora could be considered war... attempted genocide, maybe, but not war.

"You talk like you've been around for a while. How long has this whole thing been going on?"

< I know, but there have been plenty of Andalites killed because they felt too much guilt about killing the host, > Elfangor said. There was a tone of empathy in his thought speak. He didn't like killing the hosts, but better to be dead than enslaved. And it's not like they could starve out every Yeerk foot solider.

< I have been awake for close to an Earth year now, > Elfangor said. < But I am used to quite a great deal of truly...'insane' events the universe can throw at a person before awaking here. I believe it's been about almost two Earth years for the present crew to be awake. There was a previous crew that originally were assigned to save us from our destroyed universes, but I do not have any exact timing on that. It may be impossible, considering Stacy is able to go through time itself. It's a great deal harder to keep track of time when you throw in time travel. >

Time travel, on top of everything else. "This is enough to make my head hurt," Trudy said, hoisting herself up to sit on the edge of the cockpit's doorway. "I mean, I'm familiar with basic relativity theory - you have to be, if you want to ship out-of-system. They don't want anyone getting caught off-guard when they come back and everyone is quite a few years older than you expect. But time travel?" she shook her head. "That's not even remotely possible." After she said it, Trudy grinned ruefully. "Well, I guess it is possible. Just not in my universe."

Something he said bothered her, though. "There was a previous crew? What happened to them?"

< Time travel is not an easy feat, but certainly possible. My wife isn't my wife yet when she was taken and everyone else from my world is after I die. They even saw it, but I believe it might be because I was about ten seconds from it, > Elfangor said. < And I was quite familiar with it before Stacy. Though I believe it would have been a headache at the time if there wasn't more pressing matters to deal with besides focusing on how it worked. >

< They were killed by Space Pirates. We had to drive the Pirates out a few months ago and that's when we learned why we were taken. >

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Tyger, Tyger, burning bright [OPEN]

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