trans_9 | Training Flight [Semi-Closed]

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Training Flight [Semi-Closed]

Trudy wasn't much of a programmer, but she thought she'd finally gotten the Sensoriums to understand what she wanted. The simulations of Zokez II had been modified to have all their pilots removed from the sim. Now it was just swarms and swarms of Ohm.

But the arriving pilots wouldn't know that right away - one of the things they trained on the least was actually getting into your ship and getting out the hangar door, and now that they had the carrier, that was even more vital.

So when the pilots arrived in the Sensoriums, they would find themselves not in Stacy's hangar, but in the hangar bay of the Macross Quarter. The fighters and gundams were arrayed throughout the hangar in neat ranks, all ready to go.

Trudy herself stood in her eyesore of a flight suit, her helmet tucked against her hip, waiting to greet people as they came in. She had some new faces to meet, after all.

But before anyone could get too comfortable, the wailing tones of Stacy's red alert sounded through the Sensoriums. [[Attention crew]] came Stacy's voice, [[We are under attack. Repeat, the Ohm are attacking.]]

"Get to your fighters! Rogue Two to the bridge - Wash, take us out!"

((OOC: Anyone currently in Starfighter Command or interested in joining is free to participate and hop in a cockpit. Shuttle pilots and crew will be manning their shuttles. The command staff and the council are welcome to observe the exercise but Trudy would prefer no civilian observers. Have fun! Shoot the Ohm with yer lazors, pew pew!))

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((OOC: Post here for mingling-type things before the red alert sounds. The characters will have maybe five or ten minutes before it goes off.))

Sam was so damned glad to be anywhere other than the brig. It was nice seeing something different. Especially when it meant he got to fly again.

He stepped inside, picking up his helmet and grinning. "Now that's much better."

< I'm not certain I see the point. >

< Right now, the point is that you don't talk to me in the cockpit. Or, at least, don't expect an answer back. I'm gonna need my concentration for flying. >

Schmuz seemed to accept that with something akin to a mental 'shrug' and he shook his head as he headed toward the X-Wings.

"Good to still see you around, Winchester," Trudy said, walking up beside him as he moved toward the X-wings with a slap on the back. "That slug in your brain giving you any trouble?"

Tact. Trudy did not possess a whole lot of it.

Sam grinned back at her. He didn't mind the lack of tact. He'd lived with Dean most of his life, after all. "Nah. He's quieter than my college roommate and less likely to steal my stuff when I'm not looking." Where stuff meant his body, honestly, but Schmuz was good about that. "I was just laying down a couple of rules, since I can't split my attention between him and flying."

There was a grin on his face that Michael didn't quite know if he felt. Sure, he'd always felt at home in the cockpit, but as a squadron leader? As a guy who'd had to teach a pilot how to handle a warship?

That was something else entirely.

There was half a second where Trudy wasn't sure whether to approach Michael as an officer or a friend - and chose friend because Rogue Squadron wasn't huge on protocol anyway. "You look like your head is about to explode," she said. "Adjusting to the sudden promotion okay?"

Michael dealt with the question the way he always did - he gave a sure little grin and shook his head with a shrug. "Not the first time I've had to make a change on the fly," he breezed. "At least I don't have anything shooting at me this time. Not yet, anyway."

"One can hope we can get these changes ironed out before anyone is shooting at us for real," Trudy said dryly. "It doesn't help that holding down a military unit is a little difficult with GLaDOS snatching people up and Stacy repodding them whenever they feel like it."

"The last thing we need is a battlefield promotion when you aren't even on the battlefield," Michael agreed with a wry quirk of his eyebrow.

Yzak figured he knew what was coming, so he didn't make it a point to mix and mingle too much. Not that he would have either way. Leaning against a wall close enough to his mobile suit, he crossed his arms, watching the others arrive.

Setsuna was there, though made no effort to talk to anyone. His Gundam also wasn't in the hangar with the others, but he didn't intend to participate.

((OOC: Here is where the fighter jockeys and gundam pilots shoot space bugs. Feel free to start your own threads of incidents just like in the last space battle post. If a pilot's ship is destroyed they'll be zapped back to the Quarter's bridge to observe the rest of the battle.))

The cockpit lit up around him as Kira finished the Freedom's boot sequence, all of the familiar sights and sounds exactly as he knew them in reality. It always amazed him how authentic this felt - if he hadn't known where he'd been (or seen the telltale signs of his simulator program), he'd have guessed this whole thing was real.

Of course, as the elevator took him to the topside of this strange spacecraft carrier, Kira was struck by how different it was from what he knew, and yet how strangely familiar. He felt the catapult align itself with the mobile suit's feet.

"Kira Yamato, Freedom - heading out!"

The catapult launched him into space, and colored light spread over the Strike Freedom's surface as its phase shift armor engaged.

Once the Strike Freedom had launched and activated the armor, Yzak's voice rang out over the communications. It didn't sound particularly thrilled with what their reality was now, regarding the Blade Squadron.

"Assuming they come, we need to come up with a game plan with the two pilots we have."

"Cowabunga, Gunner ZAKU Warrior, heading out." The Tauren said over the comms. "Did you really think I wasn't gonna show?"

"Don't worry about it," Duo's voice rang out, Deathscythe Hell decloaking from behind the group. "What, so you're just gonna give up on the other two comin' along? Give 'em some time. Those types always take a while to end up workin' with people, yanno?"

There was incoming communication to Duo from the Quarter.

"You should always announce your launch to your comrades, even while cloaked. Had you launched silently like that either four seconds earlier, or eight seconds later, you would've collided with an X-wing."

"I'm sorry, what was that? It sounded like someone said 'I'm an antisocial git' but I didn't quite make it out," Duo replied loudly back across the channel, wearing a defiant scowl.

As always, Setsuna was unflappable.

"Also, decloaking before engaging the enemy defeats the purpose of launching cloaked to begin with."

"IF you'd been paying attention during the last training exercise, you'd know we have no idea whether my cloaking systems even work on the Ohm or not, buster," Duo shot back. "Aaanyway, force'a habit. I always take off shielded."

Setsuna didn't see how you test if your cloak works by not using it, but he let that subject drop. He made his point.

"Develop new habits," he stated, before finally cutting off communication. He'd continue monitoring events from the Quarter.

"Jerk," Duo muttered to himself.

He'd be sure to make his displeasure known later.

"This is only training," Yzak pointed out, "so keep in mind that when the real thing happens, there'll be no time to go back and forth with those who aren't part of this department. Setsuna currently isn't affiliated with us yet."

"In the meantime, stick close to the rest of us. I think you've seen why that's the best idea from the last session here."

"Ahhh, the grumps'll come around. Anyway, I need cover anyway, I'm a melee unit."

Cruising along behind the others, Duo waited for the storm to come.

"That's true," Kira acknowledged Cowabunga and Duo, trying to ignore the exchange between the two other pilots for the moment. "But remember, none of you have officially signed on to the squadron yet. This... let's see how we work together, first."

"Cowabunga," he said, his tone slipping into something he thought (or rather, hoped) was more like a commander, "Stick with Yzak. Your ZAKU flies more like his GOUF than anything else here, so how he flies... it should be a good example to follow."

"Everyone else, don't get spread out too much, or we might get cut off."

Edited 2010-10-18 05:07 (UTC)

"Stick close," Yzak called to Cowabunga, "and treat this like the real thing. I'm not going to be slowing down."

It would be fine if things didn't go well the first time-- Yzak certainly didn't expect it to. Mobile suit piloting, even for Coordinators, took enough work to perfect. But it was better than doing it in a more lenient manner. The tougher it was, the more drive it took to overcome it.

It felt good to vault back into the pilot seat, run through her mental checklist and go screaming out of the hangar of the Quarter. Sure, they did training runs all the time, but this was different - this time, the rest of the fleet was there with them, and Trudy wasn't going to let Rogue Squadron fall down on the job.

"Rogue Two to Rogue Squadron - lock S-foils in attack position and get ready for an initial trench run on the Ohm carrier. All callsigns check in."

The chatter from Blade Squadron made her antsy. Could Yamato pull them together as a unit? They were all so independant.

"Rogue Six, taking off."

Jamie glided into position, eying the gauges and readouts in his X-wing's cockpit. He was a little apprehensive about this particular scenario, to be honest, but he was determined not to let it get to him. It was just a simulation, and he'd been through simulations before.

"Rogue Eight, ready to rock & roll."

Despite the lighthearted comment, Danny was as serious as he could get, ready to treat this just as he would a real battle.

"Rogue Five, locked and loaded." Sam went through, checking his readings and adjusting his mic. Not to mention resolutely ignored the bickering of the Blades.

Then again, the Rogues had been working together a bit longer. Maybe that would help.

< If they're bickering like this, I don't know that practice will make it any better. >

Sam snorted. < Shut up. I'm trying to concentrate. > Even if he agreed with the Yeerk.

Trudy opened her mouth to give another set of orders when a communication came over the channel - "Quarter to all squadrons, clear the given coordinates, we shall burn a path to their carrier, good hunting."

"You heard the man, clear the way!" Trudy peeled away from the coordinates given, and a few seconds later a bright laserbeam lanced past her wing, opening up a small gash on the side of the Ohm Leviathan. It was familiar - something similar had happened in the original battle above Zokez II, but this time it was earlier. And bigger.

"All right then, let's get to it - Five, you and Eight try to do something about those blast towers. Six, set your targeting computer on those coordinates. I'll cover you while you make a bombing run." She settled in behind Jaime, firing her guns to take out an Ohm craft that had been descending on the squadron. "Let's hit it!"

"Roger that." Jamie inhaled sharply and veered toward the fresh wound in the Leviathan's hull, dodging enemy fire as he streaked toward the massive craft. He poured laserfire into the fissure as he shot past, pulling up when he reached the far end and snapping off a shot at a stray Ohm craft that swooped into his flight path.

He let out a breath and spoke into his comm unit again. "Should I make another run, Two?"

"Got it, Two." Sam didn't bother with a salute. It wasn't like Trudy could see it, anyway. "Eight, follow me in. We'll concentrate fire on one blast tower, then come around for another." It was the fastest way to cause damage, honestly. Hopefully enough damage to put the blast tower out of commission.

< Your best shot is about two meters from the base of the tower. > Schmuz wasn't trying to distract him, just offer advice. < I don't expect an answer back. But from the structure of the tower, that would appear to be the most likely place for a power junction. Take it out and you will severely constrain their firepower. >

< That's all I needed to hear. > He shifted his coordinates, firing at a spot very close to where Schmuz had suggested. "Eight, concentrate fire in the same place."

The Shrikes seemed to have noticed their goal, and were swarming away from the Quarter to the X-wings as fast as they could move - which was pretty damn fast.

"No, break off! Watch those fighters, there are a heck of a lot of them incoming!" Trudy said, twisting the controls of her X-wing and sending it into a corkscrew, firing all the time. The mob was getting closer and she was afraid that someone was going to get overwhelmed.

Jamie sucked in a breath through his teeth, juking left and right to evade the incoming fire, shooting off volleys of his own when he got the chance. Apprehension was spiking into fear; he knew it was just a simulation, but what his brain knew to be fact was hard pressed to assert itself over the stimuli his senses were insisting was all too real.

He dove out of the trajectory of a fighter headed straight for him, leaving it to collide with one on his tail in a spectacular if short-lived explosion, and weaved back toward Trudy's flank, driving off a handful of Shrikes closing in on her.

Trudy herself was moving her X-wing in a crazy juking trajectory, trying to stay unpredictable and keep away from the fighters trying to trap her so they could destroy her. "Loop back around toward the Quarter," she said to Jaime. "They should be able to pick some of 'em off for us - just watch out you don't get hit by friendly fire, that's the last thing I need."

She twisted the controls, zooming back the way they'd come, toward the carrier craft. She had a moment of pure satisfied surprise when she saw it in its robot form - "Damn that ship is awesome," she muttered, weaving into range of its forward canons.

((OOC: For the captain and pilot of the Quarter, as well as anyone who gets zapped here because they get blowed up.))

Wash hadn't had a whole lot of time to get used to the Quarter and how it handled - one session in the sensoriums didn't exactly make someone combat-ready, but as he settled in behind the helm, Wash felt a smile spreading across his face.

"Alright then," he said, listening to the great ship shudder as he brought her engines online. "Let's see what you can do."

Cruising out of Stacy's hangar, he saw what seemed like billions of space bugs out the front of the ship, and swallowed hard. "Wuh duh ma huh ta duh fung-kwong duh wai-shung dol - this thing has a main canon, right? Let's clear some space for our pilots." A couple flicks of a switch, and a brilliant beam of light lanced out from the starbord side of the carrier into a tight swarm of Ohm, obliterating a good chunk of them. "Hah," he said, and punched the hangar door to let the fighters out.

Wash was soon no longer alone on the bridge, joined by the near eight foot tall Sangheili that would be his Captain, clad as ever in his white combat harness. 'Vadum, striding easily onto the bridge even as the floor rumbled beneath them as they accelerated out of Stacy's hanger. Casting a gaze to the Captain's chair, no doubt too small for his large frame. A calm nod of greetings to the Helmsman, Wash, he assumed.

While he had taken some time to study the systems available aboard the Quarter, it would be his first time enacting them. What a finer way of putting a vessel to a test then in battle though. Striding to the large holographic sensor tank, a tap to the console and the display zoomed out to full tactical level. Taking in the situation, at least one Ohm carrier and countless fighters, one swathe soon cleared by the burst of fire triggered by his helmsman. An approving sound given at the results of the weapon, useful.

"Indeed, let us see just how capable this vessel is" His gaze turning to through to the vast open canopy, a bold design indeed, he approved. His tone taking a more commanding presence, "Bring the main cannon back to full charge, bring us about on course zero two seven by zero seven zero," A course that would point them and their main gun toward the carrier.

With just the two of them, they would both need to monitor and control the many systems aboard the Quarter usually designed for a bridge crew of five or more. With a bit of thought he managed to route the controls to many systems to the sensor console. "Inputting targeting solutions for secondary beam cannon's let us clear a path for the fighters, point defense systems active," on the sensor display, lines appeared arching through the cloud of ohm between their small fleet of fighters and the Ohm carrier.

The comm traffic from the various squadrons, noting their positions on the sensor display, activating a comm channel to the squadrons -Quarter to all squadrons, clear the given coordinates, we shall burn a path to their carrier, good hunting- with that he cut the channel, turning to Wash, "Once the path is clear, fire at will,"

((OOC: May have gotten a little carried away there >.> Feel free to poke me if anything wrong with it, or if you'd like me to cut it down >.>))

The carrier tremored just a little as Wash jerked in surprise - he was still not used to this 'aliens' thing and definitely not used to people appearing out of nowhere.

Still, he could have had a worse commander. Mal's captaining style was more like 'run from this,' 'hide there,' 'do whatever you want just don't kill us.' It was a little strange to have someone not only clearly used to command, but with a decent grasp of tactics as well.

"With pleasure," he muttered, keeping half an eye on his display where the charge for the canon was slowly creeping back to full.

Something blinked on his display and Wash let out another stream of very unflattering curses in Chinese as he realized that the Ohm were on to them - they had seen that the carrier could be a threat and now the other ship's external cannons had moved to target them. "Hang on to something," he said, wrenching the controls. "This is going to be a bumpy ride."

He tilted the port side of the craft down, pulled the starboard side up until the fire from the Ohm carrier passed harmlessly above and below the Quarter. Pushing the ship's nose back down, he heard a small beep of confirmation from the canon and fired the aft thrusters, scooting them back into position before he punched it - another beam lanced through space, splashing against the side of the Ohm carrier. It was too far away for Wash to see with his naked eye how much damage he'd done, but there was a feeling of satisfaction nevertheless.

Of course, now that they'd made a direct hit on the carrier, fighters were swarming their way. "Captain," he said, his voice incredibly calm for someone facing down a swarm of that size, "It's my informed opinion that we should switch into attack mode before we get blown up."

'Vadum cast a glance to his Helmsman as he set to the tasks he had given. He was efficient he gave him that, perhaps something of a freer tongue than most from that long string of curses that was soon given.

The Sangheili gripped the sensor console to hold him steady as Wash took evasive action against the Carrier's fire, 'Vadum's long fingers tapping away rapidly at the console as he focused on the display, monitoring the entire tactical situation, along with comm chatter from the squadrons. The Ohm had noticed them, good. Soon they would have their full attention.

Lifting his gaze from the sensor station as the Heavy Quantum Reaction cannon lanced its beam those thousands of kilometers between themselves and the Ohm carrier, scores of enemy contacts disappearing, wiped away from by the shear power of the beam, turning back to the holotank, tapping in commands to bring up the enemy carrier, "We've wounded them, it will take more than that to cripple,"

'Vadum gave a decisive nod to his Helmsman, "Do it, activate the transformation and divert power from main cannon to shields," they had the Ohm's full attention, all the better, less attention on the fighters tasked with taking on the Carrier. His long fingers danced over the console, "Repurposing secondary cannons for point defense operations, prioritizing larger Shrike clusters," Even as he finished that sentence the beam cannons mounted aside the bridge would open fire on the closest of the large clusters of incoming ohm, blue lances cutting through the formation.

The Ohm were coming thick as bees, and Wash hesitated with his hand over the console, and then punched at a button with a furrowed brow. "Who invented a starship that needed so many buttons - over-complicated pieces of-"

The carrier's shields sprang to life in short order - as well as a notification on his starboard readout that he'd vented an unused maintenance bay to space. "Whoops," he said under his breath, tapping the console to close that door. He'd remember that button.

"Triggering the transformation sequence," Wash said to cover up his gaffe. Then he just couldn't help himself, and grinned. "Shiny. I get to fly a robot." The helm readout pushed away from the console and handholds much like Wash was used to popped out from the sides. He wrapped his hands around them, his grin not fading in the slightest. "Here we go."

An automatic alarm sounded on the bridge, and Wash saw a transformation warning pop up on one of his screens. A harness popped out of the floor and Wash staggered under its weight before he keyed the final command and the shift began.

'Vadum stood with calm confidence by the sensor display, looking for patterns in their formations as they swarmed toward them. Wash drawing himself a glance from the Sangheili Captain, human's did have a propensity for buttons. His focus quickly snapped back to his own console eyes darting over the controls on that lit panel, as his long fingers worked over the various systems.

He glanced up once more as the shields sprang into place, good, that should protect the Quarter from the fighter class Shrike weaponry for the duration of the transformation. The notification though drew a glance, sloppy, though he let it pass, this time, a direct nod given at his helmsman's announcement of the transformation sequence.

Punching a sequence into the sensor controls, the view shifted to the space around the Quarter, a secondary display showing power readouts, even as the transformation warning sounded through the ship. Ignoring the harness's that popped forth, the Sangheili took a firm grip to the edge of the sensor pit, "Optimizing point defense patterns, Shields are holding,"

Of course the shields were holding. Michael had told him that the Quarter could probably withstand a blast from its own main cannon, which meant that the Ohm Shrikes certainly couldn't put a dent in it. Wash kept an eye on his transformation readout - it looked like it was nearly complete.

The Shrikes seemed to have noticed that nothing they could do would harm the carrier, and had turned back away to go harry the fighters. "Oh no you don't," Wash said. "Firing forward cannons-" he keyed in what he hoped was the right sequence and had the satisfaction of watching brilliant blue lasers lance through space toward the retreating Ohm. Of course, now that their own fighters were so scattered throughout the battle, they couldn't risk the main cannon again anytime soon. "Transformation almost complete - there!"

The Quarter now stood in all its giant robot glory, and Wash couldn't keep the smile off his face.

((OOC: Medevac shuttles and any fighters needed to escort them thread here.))

Turlough responded the call out with an quick acknowledgement and quickly launched the vehicle. It was heavy in his hands but he got it off with a minimum of fuss.

He ensured that his course was set properly and that his escort was ready.

There were definitely times when being able to fly yourself was an asset. When your shuttle was across the bay from where you were standing, that was definitely a plus.

Angie settled into the seat, fastening belts and taking control of the shuttle and putting it through the launch sequence, jacking into the comms through use of her nanotech.

< Engineer to all points. Do you read me? > The call was old, old habit. And suddenly made her miss her teammates more than before.

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Training Flight [Semi-Closed]

Brief Handshaking

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Re: Brief Handshaking

Dogfights - Killin' the Ohm

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... did I really misspost this earlier?

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Aboard the Carrier

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SOS

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