trans_9 | The Right Stuff [OPEN]

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The Right Stuff [OPEN]

The minute Trudy set foot in the Sensoriums, the place shimmered around her, reproducing the hangar of the Macross Quarter and the fighters now stored there. She walked through the ranks of ships until she got to her own X-wing, running her fingers over it pensively.

Lately during the training exercises, she'd spent more time on the bridge commanding the squadrons and less time in her fighter, something that irked her deeply. But that was par for the course with the job she'd taken, and somebody had to do it.

In the Sensoriums too, her plantsuit changed into the uniform she would soon be commissioning from a certain seamstress aboard the ship, with the stripes of her rank on either shoulder. She needed to talk about commissioning uniforms for the rest of Starfighter Command as well - it would give them a sense of solidarity that they sorely needed.

For now, though, she waited for the prospective pilot she'd talked with over the comms - and for anyone else who might want to show up, too.

((OOC: If your character wanted to join Starfigher Command, feel free to hop into this post. Trudy will be assessing people's piloting skills. Other pilots or people are free to stop by, too.))

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Is that a familiar call from behind you, Trudy? It just might be.

"Well now, that's never a good expression to see on a pretty face." Michael grinned, leaning up against his blue VF-25. "You look like something's on your mind, commander."

Far from the reaction he might have been expecting, Trudy's frown deepened a little. "...It's General," she said, her tone apologetic - she didn't like the need to correct him and knew it probably made her sound pretentious. "I have new recruits coming in any minute, we don't need to confuse them."

Aside from that, she didn't comment of the rest of his decidedly non-military address. They'd never really stood on ceremony. Instead, she looked up at her X-wing. "Just wondering if I'll ever fly this girl again."

His breezy air quieted - just a bit. "I meant it as a noun - one who commands. But I see your point, General. ...and that would make me Captain right now, wouldn't it? Don't think I'll get used to that."

The sniper stood, walking over to his CO, reaching up to take off his glasses and polish the lenses on his flight jacket. "Don't see why not. Wedge did, didn't he?"

Trudy sighed - she would have liked to go back to when this rank bullshit didn't matter, back when there were only twelve or so people and Rogue Squadron was the only fighter squadron on the boat. But then she shook that thought away. They couldn't beat the Ohm with the kind of numbers they'd had when she first woke up from the pods.

"Wedge really only had one squadron to deal with," she said. "After the split was when he started getting nabbed by the AI, and command was kind of piecemeal. I need to be able to see what everyone is doing, and to do that I can't be in the middle of it."

"You think so?" Michael slid his glasses back onto his face. "I thought that was what the Quarter's captain was for. He's the one with the big picture."

"No reason a commander can't command from the front."

"Hm," Trudy said. It was true that 'Vadium had shown to be an adept captain, utilizing the Quarter's bulk and greater firepower to their advantage in the last simulation. "I'm one to believe in as few steps to the chain of command as possible. Less delay from decision to implementation." She could just see what a mess that could turn into.

"What could be a shorter delay than to be the one leading the charge yourself?" He quirked an eyebrow. Man, Trudy, you really weren't taking any of the outs he was giving you.

Well that was because Michael knew her (mostly) as fun drunk Trudy. This was responsible commander Trudy. Didn't mean she didn't hate every minute of it.

"That's what the general training sessions are for. I'm trying to figure out how much I can rely on my captains - I know I don't have to worry about Skull Squadron. Blade Squadron, on the other hand..."

Surely he had noticed how... chatty they were on the comms.

"Given that Skull is just me and the Princess for right now, I should hope you don't," Michael sighed theatrically. "As for those guys... they've got an individualistic streak there. As long as they don't die, that shouldn't be too much of a problem."

"Mostly it's the dying I'm worried about," Trudy said. "And you might be getting someone new in your squadron today, depending."

She had to see how the girl did first. And even then, Trudy didn't like the thought of child soldiers.

"We could always keep throwing them in sims until one of them does. Maybe that'd get the point home." At the followup, though, he tilted his head to the side. "Really, now. Should I be sitting in on this?"

Considering that the current Skulls were still in their teens, it wouldn't bother Michel all that much.

"You can if you want," Trudy said. "She says she has some piloting experience. It's the fourteen-year-old kid I was telling you about, she got snatched by the AI but now she's back and still eager to join up."

Trudy's tone was doubtful, her expression dubious. They had some young genius pilots, but none of them were that young. And after Cassie Lang, Trudy wasn't so keen on this idea.

A nod, as the pilot crossed his arms over his chest. "Probably best. You testing her in a VF or one of your flying crates?"

"If I had a legitimate reason to keep her out of that glorified rocket on speed I would put her in an X-Wing, but your squadron is short-staffed and there's no sense training someone on a real ship if all they're going to be flying is that."

If he had been aiming to make her smile, it was working.

Just as planned. "No sense. That'd be like asking them to start crawling everywhere after they're used to sprinting."

"How about actually watching where they're going instead of scooting around pressing the beam spam button all the time?" Trudy raised an eyebrow at him.

"You seem to have us confused with those crazies in Blade Squad, General," Michael raised one right back. "A missile barrage only gets you so far."

Trudy couldn't help herself - she laughed. Blade Squadron really was the redheaded stepchild of their operation, it seemed like. "They're a strange bunch, aren't they?" she asked, glancing over at where the Gundams stood silently on the other end of the hangar.

"The word seems to be 'individualistic,'" Michael mused, following her gaze. "We have standard birds, they have their own machines from a bunch of different worlds. Maybe it's to be expected."

"I wish they'd work better together, but you're right, they're very... independent. From what I've gathered talking to them, they usually worked as individual operatives in the past."

If she thought they would be able to stand up to larger clumps of Ohm by themselves, she'd allow them to operate alone again. But their defensive capabilities weren't even close to those of the X-Wings.

"What a pain in the ass," the sniper sighed. "I don't envy that Kira guy having to pull them all together."

"I don't either. They have one good thing going for them at least - they're all brilliant pilots."

Trudy had never had the privilege of working with such an overwhelmingly talented group. Almost down to a man, they were aces. It made sense - Stacy seemed to rescue people who could contribute to the war effort best.

"Still haven't met a brilliant pilot who could watch everywhere at once." It was true they were good, but teamwork - or a lack thereof - would win or lose those battles.

Which felt weird to be thinking, as the sniper. But he was support, not a lone hero. He knew that.

"That's the truth in a nutshell, especially with those shrikes. They're some fast motherfuckers and if it weren't for the Quarter, I still wouldn't feel too good about our chances. It's a blessing," she said.

Every pilot they got was a blessing. Trudy was used to being part of a military with oppressively dominant air capabilities. Being on the other side of that was new, and very disconcerting.

Nunnally was nervous when she stepped into the Sensorium that morning, but she kept herself collected and strong. She'd tried out piloting a Gundam in here a couple of times since first speaking with Lt. Chacon, and while the controls were foreign, not at all what she'd expected from her time piloting the Mark Nemo, she was sure that with practice she could be of use to the crew.

Besides, she had her secret weapon.

"Lt. Chacon?" she called out.

Trudy twitched momentarily, and then reminded herself that when she had talked to this young woman over the omnicomms, that had been her rank. "Over here," she said, climbing down the ladder from where she'd been with her head in the cockpit of one of the VFs.

The girl looked... well, young. Like she'd blow away in a stiff wind and definitely not the kind of person Trudy would think of as soldier material. She sighed internally. It wouldn't be fair to turn the kid away once Trudy had promised she'd be able to show her stuff. "It's General now. General Antilles got re-podded. Remind me of your name?"

Nunnally walked over when the woman replied to her, turning slightly red at the correction. "Oh, I'm sorry! I missed out on a lot of things thanks to GLaDOS..."

She nodded. "Nunnally vi Britannia, ma'am. It's a pleasure to meet you in person." Her hands were folded in front of her and she bowed ever-so-slightly when she introduced herself, a habit she'd picked up from years of living with the Kururugis. She was the perfect picture of a prim and proper princess; not nearly the type anyone would expect to find on a battlefield.

As soon as she saw that bow, the blush, the pretty manners, Trudy firmly ruled out putting this girl in Blade Squadron, if it turned out she could fly. One of those boys was going to get stupid about protecting her if they were in the same squadron and that was something she couldn't afford.

"Miss vi Britannia, I'm going to clarify a couple things right off the top - we are a military command, and if it turns out you'll be flying with us, you'll keep a military schedule. We PT every morning at 0700, followed by individual flight training from 0800-1100 hours. You get a half hour for lunch, after which we training in the squadrons from 1230-1500. Sometimes we'll have a larger exercises with two of the squadrons, or all of them. Sometimes the carrier is involved. We do another round of PT to end the day off with at 1500. If you did well, you're free, but pickup lessons go until 1700. We do this five days out of the week. Do you think you could keep up with that schedule?"

Nunnally had to think a moment to translate those times in her head, but once she did... well, that wasn't too different from the everyday schedule at Ashford Academy. It started a little earlier, but not by that much.

She nodded, her face setting in determination she hadn't felt for a long time. "Yes, General. I don't have any problems with keeping to a schedule."

All right, the determination was a good sign. She did seem mature for her age - she'd have to be, if she had piloted in the past. Nunally might not know it, and Trudy certainly wasn't going to tell her, but this was as much a test of her character as it was her ability to handle a fighter.

"You are also expected to accept and obey orders from the chain of command instantly and without questioning. That includes disciplinary orders from your future Captain, the leader of the squadron I will place you in. Failure to obey orders in training will get you laps or push-ups. In the field it could get you killed." Trudy didn't see any reason to soften that declaration - the girl was volunteering to man a fighter craft. She had to know the danger.

"Of course," she replied. Granted, Nunnally had never had a captain or commander before; she'd acted on her own. But she'd walked into this room knowing that being a member of a team would require some submission. "Whatever it takes to keep my team members... and everyone else on this ship... safe, I'll do."

"All right," Trudy said. "As long as we've got that cleared up. Now, what have you piloted in the past, and how much experience do you have?"

She hadn't made a decision yet, but she was cautiously willing to be convinced.

"Only a few months worth," she admitted. "I piloted a custom Knightmare Frame in battle against various, er... assorted forces. Mainly military Knightmares..." She smiled hesitantly. It was kind of a big thing to admit, but it was in the past.

"I do have a special ability that helps me," she added. If anything, it could only help. "I can see the lines of the future. It's really only useful for very close events, since what I see changes when someone's mind changes, but it's very useful in the midst of battle."

"A few months is better than none," Trudy said. "I'm not familiar with a craft like that, would you mind having the Sensoriums call it up so I get a better idea of where you come from?"

Not that it mattered, she was going to put the girl in Skull Squadron if she made it. She had worried that the kid would have hopped in a cockpit once and think herself a pilot, but this was going better than she hoped.

Nunnally nodded, a bit surprised that Trudy hadn't commented on her Geass. Then again, people seemed to have all sorts of fantastic abilities on this ship. There were at least two others who could see the future.

She closed her eyes to focus, and called forth a large black mecha (http://8.p.s.mfcdn.net/store/manga/672/01-002.0/compressed/CG_Knightmare_ch02_02_03.jpg), trimmed with red and yellow. Part of her was sure it wouldn't appear, not after she'd broken the contract, even in the Sensoriums where anything was possible. But when she opened her eyes and turned, it was standing there behind her, just as she remembered it.

"It's called the Mark Nemo," she introduced it.

She wasn't ignoring the Geass, just more concerned about practicalities first before weird mojo. She stalked around the legs of the Knightmare Frame. It looked mostly similar to the mechas that Blade Squadron used, but they had too many pilots already, and the VFs had a similar design in Battroid mode.

"This seeing the future thing," she said. "How does it work? Do you get visions or do you just know where to go? Are you vulnerable when it kicks in?" Trudy didn't want to send a pilot up that would have to pause every few seconds when information was dumped into their brain.

"I just... see it, I guess. I have to will it to happen, and then I see what's going to happen." Perhaps overly simplistic, but she didn't know how else to describe it. "I don't become vulnerable, but I have to process the information in real time, so it's best for just short bursts of sight."

"Doesn't sound too bad," Trudy said. "As long as it's not going to sneak up on you in a firefight it actually sounds useful."

It might be nice to have a pilot who could see the future, even if it was just a little bit. "All right, here's the thing. Your Knightmare Frame is pretty similar to the mechs some of our other pilots already fly, but our mech squadron is overpopulated as it is. So I'm going to put you in a Variable Fighter - it can transform into a mech if you're more comfortable piloting that, but it deploys as a fighter jet. Come over here." She left the Knightmare Frame behind, walking back to the VF she'd had her head in when Nunally arrived. "Come on up, take a look at the cockpit."

Nunnally nodded, turning away from the Mark Nemo a little regretfully -- she would come back and see it later -- to follow Trudy. "Ah-- so that would be why it's called a Variable Fighter," she realized as she climbed up.

She looked down into the cockpit. Once again, the controls were unfamiliar, but that could easily be solved. "It doesn't look too hard to figure out..."

"Don't worry, I'm not going to toss you in cold," Trudy said, sparing Nunally a reassuring smile. She was warming up to the girl. "The flight controls are here - this is pitch, this is roll. Weapons here. These gauges are for power to your engines."

She went on in that vein for a time, pointing out the controls, and finally indicating a large button just below the main flight controls. "This triggers your transformation sequence. As far as I'm concerned, you use it when you think you need to. If you're more comfortable triggering it right after you deploy I'm alright with that."

Nunnally nodded as Trudy pointed out the relevant controls and doohickeys. She wasn't sure she could remember them all right off the bat, but fortunately that wasn't going to be necessary. Practice would be had.

"I see," she said finally. "It would be good for me to get used to both forms before I decide which I'm more comfortable with," she added, mostly to herself. Talking out loud helped somewhat.

Once again, Trudy was reluctantly impressed. She had assumed the girl would take that statement as an easy way out of learning how to fly the VF as a snubfighter, but her apparent dedication to learning both of the craft's modes was encouraging.

"I'm going to go hop in my own bird, and then we'll take them out. You can get used to how she handles."

Trudy hopped down from the ladder, jogging across the hangar to her X-wing. "Oh, one more thing," Trudy shouted across the hangar as she climbed the ladder. "That thing'll take off like you've got a rocket strapped to your butt when you punch it, so keep the main engines off until we get out of the hangar."

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The Right Stuff [OPEN]

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