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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 13:29:09 GMT -5
Brenda Sweetgrass had been one of a diaspora of outmodes, screwballs and exiles from the military aircraft community of the Carsverse, all plying their way across the bridgeworld to "humanside" in the later post-blowup years. She wasn't quite an outmode (yet), was not so screwy, but fell quite neatly within the third category. An F-18B from Canadian lines, late thirtysomething, cross-trained for multi-role capacity, she cut an imposing figure on the flight line at RAAF Base Darwin, and wore her wing commander's rank as if she had been born with the stripes on her fuselage.
Those in Brenda's charge, with certain notable exceptions, viewed her with a combination of love and fear. Why she was here, no one knew for sure, though there were rumors of a "lesbian high drama" that contributed to a premature end to her career in the CV Canadian forces. If she actually was lesbian, or bi as some gossip had it, she certainly wasn't discussing it, and the fact that she had a nine-year-old daughter was enough to put those speculations to rest for many people.
However, there was always at least one that couldn't even buy a clue.
In the air over the Pacific, Brenda's radar-sense tracked the progress of the training exercise her squadron was currently engaging in. Back in her home universe, she would never have dealt with such a mixed bag, breed-wise. There were purebreds and mixes of almost every jet fighter type that had come into existence over the last half-century. It made setting standards and gauging progress a challenging matter.
To simplify things somewhat, she had separated out the several F-16's and assigned them an "aggressor" role against the rest of the squadron, using harmless red lasers in place of actual weapons. She knew that would suit Flight Lt. Paul Martell perfectly fine. He quite enjoyed taking the offensive role and it would work off some of the tension that had been generated in that morning's meeting with him.
"Your childrens' visitation is not technically my business, or my problem," she had laid it out on the proverbial table before Martell. "But let me make a few things absolutely clear. You'd better g*ddam well keep that porn stash of yours out of their sight, and don't let your teenager find it again! And I'd better not hear of you badmouthing their mother in front of them! I know the terms that most divorce settlements impose on the parties involved, Lieutenant. She's not supposed to trash you in front of the kids, and you are to hold up your end of that deal. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes, ma'am." the F-16 affirmed, though his face was a neutral mask. "I wouldn't do anything that would hurt my kids, and I want to do everything I can to do right by them."
"Indeed." Brenda nodded. "I'm glad we understand each other. You're dismissed until 0930, before the exercises."
Martell turned, without visible resentment or protest. He knew what was good for him at present, even if she knew he called her some unflattering names behind her back.
Now, at 30,000 feet in the partially cloudy skies over the ocean, she watched as the F-16 group made their first pass at their fellows, and the others began their counter-maneuvers. They were as mixed in age and experience as they were in type, but she finally saw a squadron starting to congeal. This was a relief, for their Group Captain was with her today, riding in the observer cockpit that had been added as an extension to her canopy, after several operations and no small amount of post-surgical discomfort. She felt his hand patting the membrane that covered the wall between the cockpit cavity and her cranial area, and answered over their com-link. "Yes, sir?"
"Let's see how long that Frogfoot lad holds out now." the ocker-laden voice of Group Captain Elliot Bateman crackled through the interface. "He gets murdered every time, but the little bugger never gives up. I kind of have to like the little bloke."
On Bateman's own "glass cockpit" display, the aforementioned Su-25 was waiting behind the first wave, having learned that he would last a bit longer and get a few more hits in that way. Ideally, Daryush should have been in a close air support squadron, providing cover for ground units, but the beggars-can't-be-choosers mentality that now pervaded the HV RAAF dictated that they take whoever could fly.
"He does have a lot of "try" in him, sir." Brenda conceded. "Let's hope that attitude is enough to keep him alive in a real fight."
On the aggressor side, Martell was lining up his first target. He was still fuming from this morning and looking for something to "kill". That little Frogfoot b*st*rd is gonna regret making me look like a fool after the b*tch chewed me out this morning...
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 16:10:50 GMT -5
Daryush had just scored a fake crippling hit on one of the F-16 jets, but had one on his tail. He recognized him as one of the outmode youngsters. Outmode so soon. He thought to himself sadly. He quickly pointed his nose upwards into a spiral climb. His engines were better than his peers at this, and the youngster quickly chickened out even before Daryush's engines threatened to stall, enabling Daryush to sweep down after him and began firing laser rounds, illuminating the target and as the rounds hit vital surface pads on the jet, the weapons locked on him, and all he could really do was to land.
The problem with a spiral climb that it was predictable, and not really good maneuver unless it was a one-on-one fight. This was one of the reason for several of Daryush's deaths. And all he had to wonder was who was now stuck on his tail.
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 17:23:23 GMT -5
Paul Martell was now getting hard on Daryush's six, ready to unleash at least three kinds of imaginary death. It was more than just practice, it was personal. He'd taken a dislike to the Su-25 ever since he'd turned up, about eight months back. In this battlefield, Daryush bought the virtual farm a little more than most, but on the ground, his sexy UK accent, flashing eyes and slightly exotic charm made the girls melt. Paul had been hoping for some "in-hangar action", but he'd ended up on the same wing with a maddening c*ckblocker born to some woman in Iraq who hadn't had the decency to raise him in her own culture afterwards, instead of giving him up for adoption to a family of UK attack jets.
"Sayonara, *sshole." he chuckled to himself as he finally locked on and banked upwards to the right, aiming for a lead pursuit prior to making his kill shot.
Brenda and her superior observed this quietly. "It's Hammer, as usual." "Hammer" was Paul's codename in the squadron.
"He does like to go after Froggy when he gets the chance." the group captain observed. "But Pepper's coming up."
The young outmode of which he spoke, a Buccaneer female, dove to the east and then climbed out steeply, outside the attacker's turn radius, intent on giving the F-16 something else to think about besides Daryush's tail. Flight Officer Kiana "Pepper" Baylor did like Daryush quite a bit, but it was more of a sisterly affection than a romantic one. As for Paul, not so much. She'd called him a "prick" to his face on more than one occasion, despite him outranking her by one level. Paul, sussing on to her at last, growled and shifted course, though still determined to humble Daryush. "Better pray, motherf***er, here I come!" He released a volley of pulses from his "cannon" laser.
At the base itself, a brief cloudburst had made the tarmac slick with rainwater. Amara, Paul's ex-wife, and their two children had landed by ship after a week's transit through the bridgeworld, then made the hop to the air base. Gavin, the elder of the two children, grimaced as he taxiied through a deep puddle and hesitated at the next one. Moira, his little sister, bounded gleefully through it, splashing her brother despite his protests.
Amara, wearily, looked back. "What is it now, Gavin? It's just a little water, you're not made of salt and you won't melt!"
"This place sucks already." the teen complained. "Do we really have to spend three months in this dump?"
"Hush, you!" Amara warned sharply. "We are guests on someone else's turf, and by Chrysler, you are going to buck up and mind your manners, my young man. Your father will be back soon, and I want you two on your best behavior when he sees you -- Moira!" she called out to her daughter, who had bolted ahead of her. "Come back here now!"
Looking chastened, the eight-year-old turned back and returned to the side of her mother. Amara licked a few drops of puddle water off the child's face, despite her protests. "There must be a playground somewhere around here, but this ain't it." Amara told her, between licks. "So be careful."
"I will, Mommy." Moira sighed, already doubting that there was anyone else of her age and species here to play with. Amara looked up to see the aircraft marshaller make a sweeping gesture towards a pickup truck with a checkerboard pattern and flashing yellow lights, then climbing onto its bed and making a FOLLOW-US signal. By now, even the youngest of the trio understood what that meant and dutifully fell into line with her mother and brother. Where they were going, they had no idea.
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 17:57:42 GMT -5
Daryush sweered and turned around often to avoid weapon lock. He knew that Paul had a special hatred for him, which translated to the battle field as well. On the few occasions that they were put on the same team, Daryush could never rely on Paul to be his wingman. And Paul had already proven on two occasions that he had better endurance that he when it came to spiral climb.
All that Daryush was doing now in the exercise was to keep one enemy at bay just by dodging. These matches lasted usually until he had gone too straight for too long, someone else managed to score a hit on Paul.
Daryush dove to the ground after few circles to keep himself less predictable. They were now closer to the airfield itself. Out of the gunsights for few seconds was enough for him to take a breath. Either from here he could start a spiral climb, but exiting from it would be hard without taking a hit, or he could try to maneuver in the mountains, which was more life-threatening than anything in an exercise. Daryush kept himself much more nimble and agile than other Frogfoots, but having been here for so long everyone else had learned his abilities.
On the ground there were some spectators surrounding a large outdoor screen. On it were actually 3D models of airplanes, and quicker inspection would reveal that this was real-time view of what was going on. However, the airplanes were all humanverse types, no eyes or any sort of life in them. The software had been developed shortly before the eruption. Small GPS and radio transmitters revealed the locations to a computer that put it in almost a gaming environment. At the moment the camera was a view of Brenda's viewpoint.
A bit outside the crowd of various mechanian of all types and humans was a human female. She seemed quite out of place in old English riding attire. She was looking at the screen, but as Amara arrived, she turned her head to look at the visitors.
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 18:19:22 GMT -5
<<< Useful: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Basic_fighter_maneuvers >>> Pepper, snarling, initiated a "High Yo-Yo" maneuver to force Paul to slow down, beginning with a steeper pitched turn that brought her above her target. The F-16 had been a little too consumed with the Frogfoot ahead of him and found this move very difficult to evade, though he managed to avoid the shot that followed. It would bring some relief to Daryush and allow him to reposition himself. Pepper desperately wanted for her "brother" to get one over on Paul for a change, and this was his chance.
The pickup stopped just short of the crowd watching the screen. This was one of the more "public" areas of the base. New instructions from the tower bid Amara and her brood to wait there for someone to meet them in a few minutes' time. Not far off was a rather tired-looking "gate guardian," a native F-111 now mounted on a pedestal. Amara made a slight face at it before looking up to the screen. It looked like a training exercise, and her ex was a part of it - she could even see him, doggedly pursuing an Su-25 that was putting on quite a remarkable display of agility for its type. Yeah, just like him, she thought. Picks one target and hates on him like nothing else, then somebody else nails him from out of nowhere. That's why he never got past Captain in rank. I'd laugh if that Frogfoot put him in his place. Amara snapped back to awareness of her present surroundings, to see her little girl sniffing at the human female who by her attire seemed so... out-of-place here. "Moira, remember your manners."
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 18:35:58 GMT -5
(( Thanks, most of Dogfights talking was just fawning over various jets. The only two maneuvers I did memorize was that scissoring vertical roll and what seems to be Guns Defense. )) Daryus was beyond grateful for the save. At least he could always count on Pepper to be his wingman. With Paul distracted, Daryus slowed down and let him overtake him in the confusion, which put him in a prime spot. There was an advantage of being slow, people tended to overshoot before they could get a firing solution or weapon lock. With seconds to spare, Daryus fired when Paul was in his gunsights. Even if someone else managed to score a hit on him if only seconds later, Daryus could claim victory even if he would miss Paul.
The woman seemed a bit curious of Moria and Amara, then smiled. "Don't worry." She said, heading away from the crowd and walked slowly to Amara. "This place doesn't see that many kids anyway."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 19:03:26 GMT -5
Paul took the 'fatal hit' signal with a sudden, sour feeling in his innards. Laugh, you little SOB, he thought as he was forced to retire from the battle. Let's see how smug you are when we don't have Alpha Mare breathing down our necks. "Alpha Mare" was the wing commander's in-air designation, having been stuck with it after her Group Captain's wife, a horse breeder of note in the area, described her as exactly that!
Pepper then assumed the wingman's position over Daryush, making it clear that anyone else with designs on his tail would have to deal with her as well. Two of the three F-16's were now out. The third was tied up with two other defenders.
Amara noted no visible ID tag on the woman, but said nothing about it. Friend or relative of someone here? Who knew? Gavin, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to her. "You work here?" she asked. The crowd was still intent on the action on the screen and paid no attention to anything else. A shout went up as a hit was scored on the second F-16 aggressor. "Froggy's got him!"
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 19:32:29 GMT -5
Not directly engaged yet with the third attacker, Daryush climbed up to a plane over the last attacker. Hidden in the clouds, nearing his altitude ceiling, he watched the radar until he was in position for high-side gun pass. It wasn't an expected maneuver from him, and he wanted to use that unpredictability. Also Paul was often the surviving one from their fights, which hopefully was one of the other things that could surprise the last one.
The woman was a second too slow to answer, but as the cheering went on, she turned back to the screen. She seemed relieved that she didn't have to answer that. "It's not often that Daryush scores on Hammer." She commented. "Pepper to his rescue as usual."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 20:34:42 GMT -5
Pepper, having a higher ceiling, took advantage of it to cover Daryush's position. She watched as the remaining aggressor, fleeing his pursuers, attempted a low yo-yo defense while unwittingly taking himself into the Sukhoi's trap. If he could score another kill, it would shut up a few loudmouths for the next few days, at least.
"The lad's getting smart." Bateman remarked to Brenda. "Turning his bugs into features, he is."
"That would be right." the F-18 answered. "But he'll have to steer clear of Hammer once they're on the ground. That boy doesn't like it when his ego gets drop-kicked all the way to Indo. Hopefully, with his kids here, he'll avoid making any scenes." Paul Martell was good in a dogfight, but could be a damned pain on the tarmac. Those of lower rank knew too well that he could be quite generous with his teeth.
"Quite impressive for a Frogfoot." Amara conceded. "He's definitely got some ingenuity."
The view on the screen changed, to that from another one of the aircraft. Now it showed a closer view of Daryush lying in wait, and the target aircraft trying to pull out of his "slice" effectively. "He'd have every right to brag if he can pull that off." someone said.
In the meantime, Moira spied another child at the edge of the crowd, an F-18 girl about her age or perhaps a little older. She forgot about the strange lady and edged over to the other girl.
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 21:03:03 GMT -5
Daryush kept track of the F-16, determined to score a kill. It looked like this was going to be one of his few times surviving training, and he wanted to do a good job of it. When he got him in his sights, he opened fire with his lasers.
"He doesn't have as impressive specs as the others, but you would be amazed with how much he makes up for it in sheer spirit." The woman chuckled low, as if she had said a joke. Whatever it was, it was inside joke.
"Marianne by the way, that's my name." She said to Amara. Her tone of voice changed ever so slightly, as if she really wanted to talk with Amara. The change had been brought out as Moria had abandoned her and Amara for a company of her age.
(( Do you want me to take the daughter? I wouldn't mind. ))
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 21:51:43 GMT -5
The last F-16 sighed woefully as he received a disabling hit from Daryush's lasers. He fired off a volley in return, but hit nothing. At that point, Brenda stepped in and called a time-out. All of the aggressors were now "killed" or "crippled", and it was time for a break, and maybe a lecture.
"See what happened here?" she addressed the others as soon as they were back in formation. "Getting complacent because your opponent is maybe slower or has a lower ceiling is stupid and deadly. Ask the ghosts of all the silly asses who thought a Hunter or a Harrier would be an easy kill. Like everyone says here, it's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog." She rolled an eye back towards Paul, to see that he was getting the message. He appeared rather sullen and wounded in pride. Wisely, Brenda had directed Daryush and Pepper to her opposite side for the duration.
Pepper went to another channel to talk to the Sukhoi. Her accent was classic Yorkshire. "You did good, Dary. Wiped the smile right off that arsehole's face."
Amara drew in a little closer. "Marianne? I'm Amara. The kids and I just got here for their visitation with their father. We're here for three months." <<< Go ahead. >>>
Moira halted her approach as the F-18 girl turned at last, getting a good look at her. She smiled shyly. "Hi."
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Post by elizar on Jul 5, 2010 22:22:42 GMT -5
"Now all I have to do is to avoid him for the rest of the day so I won't get creamed for it on the ground." Daryush said laughing low. "Thanks for the save, I wouldn't have made it. You can be my wingman anytime."
"Ah, I should have known it was you." Marianne said. She had wisely gotten Amara far enough from the crowd that she wouldn't be heard, and with the crowd replaying, no eyes were resting on the pair. "I've heard Paul talking about you because of the visit. I have to say I've heard prettier things said about pigs." She said in a sad tone. "But the country's large, and in time you should see that the base is large as well."
"Hi." The F-18 girl answered. She hadn't had much company of other kids, so she welcomed someone who wouldn't push her away due to 'adult business'. "I'm Rebecca, but you can call me Becky. What's your name?"
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 5, 2010 23:08:44 GMT -5
"And happy t' do it." Pepper answered. "It was worth it t' see the look on his gob when you hit. Y'know, he were all over me when he first started here, and I were sick to the back teeth of 'im by the end of the week. Serves 'im right." Her dialect grew stronger and more pronounced as she angrily recalled Paul's advances towards anything with wings, XX chromosones, and an age under 40. It had taken some harsh words and harsher nips and tail-swipes to keep him off her nape.
Amara cocked her head in a slightly puzzled fashion, wondering how this woman got around so much on base with no ID or credentials in evidence. But she recovered herself. "I'll admit our divorce was ugly, and neither of us was an angel in that whole mess. But I don't go around talking trash about him all the time. I don't want the kids to grow up with that."
"I'm Moira." the F-16 girl smiled, "And that's my mom and brother over there. We just got here now."
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Post by elizar on Jul 6, 2010 8:30:13 GMT -5
"I think the only way for him to have any was that arrange marriage." Daryush said. "Isn't the ex going to drop off the kids soon?" Thoughtfully enough, Brenda arranged for Paul to land first, which would give Daryush a chance to be anywhere but around him once he landed. They had come to blows before, when Daryush had been a bit clueless as of how much Paul hated his presence and inadvertively triggered something in Paul.
"Good call." Marianne said. "The commander is also doing her best to make sure he won't continue the trashtalk around the kids."
"My mom's up there." Becky pointed with her wings upwards to the sky. "They were training, but the only way to see them was with that big screen."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 6, 2010 9:04:07 GMT -5
"I heard't was today." Pepper answered. "She must'a had a strong constitution, to put up with Hammer long enough to have'em. I can't imagine what t'would be like on the mat with him an' don't wanna. You think that's where he got his handle*?"
<<<*operational nickname used in flight ops >>>
Amara looked over to where Becky was. "That must be her little girl then. Sounds like she's all right as far as Hornets go." In truth, Amara didn't know the type that well in terms of personal experience. Where she came from, F-18's were naval carrier-borne fighters and she had been in the Air Force aggressor training squadrons before taking the security job with NASA. She just hadn't had much opportunity to meet them socially.
"Are they coming back now?" Moira asked. The sound of jet engines in the distance seemed to answer that. There was one among the first wave that she would know even if blindfolded. "That sounds like Daddy!"
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