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Post by Evangeline on Jul 10, 2010 20:34:41 GMT -5
"That sounds really interesting." Pepper remarked, momentarily putting her drink aside. "When I made my trip around the outback, I met quite a few. Of course, the past two hundred years have been really rough on them in some ways, like it was with the American Indians."
Brenda turned as she overheard the conversation. "Mr. Carey is a very good teacher, isn't he? I like that the school system pays a lot more attention to real history than they used to. He even showed a movie to the class and their parents a week ago. If you haven't seen Rabbit-Proof Fence, you're missing something. It really made everyone think."
"Hmmm. I'll have to see if the library has it, ma'am. Thanks." Pepper smiled.
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Post by elizar on Jul 10, 2010 21:08:20 GMT -5
"I have to say my interest in the history was more on the immigrants than the indigenous." Daryush admitted. "Though the relationship between the two wouldn't be helped by the fact that most of the immigrants were criminals."
"Yeah." Becky said. "Even grafitti was punished by transportation."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 10, 2010 21:23:22 GMT -5
"Or stealing a loaf of bread." Brenda frowned. "Didn't matter if you and your whole family were starving. They had a very... drastic interpretation of "let the punishment fit the crime."
"Even military justice isn't that harsh." Pepper observed.
"Hon, I'll tell you what my grade 10 history teacher said," Brenda turned back to her daughter. "He said that the past was like a foreign country, or even a different planet, and what we "know" now was not what they "knew" then and what people will "know" in the future won't be anything like what we think it is. But there is one thing that never changes, and that's the general nature of people, doesn't matter who or what. Technology might change, but people have the same feelings and make the same choices -- and mistakes they always did. Studying history gives us the chance to learn from their experience."
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Post by elizar on Jul 10, 2010 21:39:08 GMT -5
Becky nodded, taking it in. She did realize that there was some different mindsets, such as the known history of her kind, where in the far past they had been enslaved. Even at young age such heritage couldn't be ignored. Back then, owning slaves wasn't wrong, but now everyone she knew spoke ill of those who did own slaves, though it was short-lived slavery period.
"I understand." She said, though it was apparent to everyone that she might think she does understand, but age was also experience, and her understanding would deepen when she would grow older and more mature.
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 10, 2010 22:19:15 GMT -5
"It IS a big subject." Shekinah leaned over as she joined the conversation. The twin-prop had a little boy of her own, though it would be another year before he was ready to begin his schooling. "If my son learns even half of what you're taking in, I'll be glad enough for that. He won't stay still for five minutes, let alone a whole class period." She rolled her eyes a bit. "Boys..."
"Speaking of boys," Pepper glanced over to where Gavin was sitting, already yawning out his boredom. "He'll be in for a disappointment when he finds out the only plane girl of his age on base is an Orion and she's already an officer cadet with a job to do."
"They're already letting her fly low-risk missions, because they're THAT shorthanded in maritime surveillance right now." Sheckinah shrugged. "But Jewel thinks buzzing fish poachers is great fun. She'd stay out there day and night if they let her."
"If there's one thing Orions are known for, it's staying power." Brenda chuckled. "And being damned tough birds." She frowned slightly, a little annoyed at herself for using that language in front of her daughter. "And I hope you don't follow THAT example, sweetie. I really shouldn't have put it that way." She lowered her head to give Becky a good neck-scratch with the flat sides of her teeth.
Pepper turned back to Daryush. "This conversation went umpteen o' places in a hurry."
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Post by elizar on Jul 11, 2010 7:05:57 GMT -5
Becky arched up slightly into the scratching, it had been a slightly itchy spot for her the past hour. She wasn't about to tell her mother, but she had heard worse curses on the playground.
"I think it was for the best." Daryush said low to Pepper, then turned to the others.
"I could probably invite him to a dogfight match if he gets too restless." Daryush said. While he certainly had the spirit and determination for a high-rising star in competitive dogfight, he lacked the power to keep up with the more recent generations, and even those in his generation could break the sound barrier while it was a feat he had never reached.
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 11, 2010 12:01:47 GMT -5
<<< Suddenly I have this idea for a family of Flankers coming in, and they have a nine-year-old boy whose present highest ambition is cutting up in class and making rude faces at pretty girls to get their attention... >>>
"I think you could keep up with him." Pepper nodded. "He's probably played a lot of combat-sim games but needs to start brushing up on the real thing. It would also annoy the hell out of his old man." The Buccaneer added a wicked chuckle.
Brenda continued working on Becky's back and neck, reinforcing the parental bond while her child's focus was still on her mother and not (yet) her peers. It would only be a matter of time before Becky would reach the age that made such attention from her mother "embarrassing", at least in public. She was going to enjoy her daughter's fleeting girlhood while it lasted, for early drills and cadet training began at twelve, and soon after, the insertion of cavity-shaping braces to enable the option of a Charger conversion that would be quite a bit less painful than what her mother went through.
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Post by elizar on Jul 11, 2010 18:28:49 GMT -5
(( I wonder how they would deal with an older Sukhoi, who admits being born in Iraq, but was raised in Britain, despite his Iranian heritage. ))
"Combat sim is nothing. You can pause in that." Daryush said. "I did play sims, and I realized when I started the real thing I froze up much more often than in the game." He looked to Brenda, as she was finishing on Becky. "How about you could give me a heads up before the boy becomes too restless."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 11, 2010 19:13:55 GMT -5
<<< There are MiGs and Sukhois all over the place in the MidEast and Asia, that have bred several generations out of Russia, so I'd suppose, so convoluted life journeys would not be new to them >>>
Brenda finished off by giving Becky's face a lick, to the slight embarrassment of her daughter. "I can do that, but play it subtle. I don't want his father really getting the idea that people are scheming behind his back, though he'll suspect it anyway."
Two doors down from Amara's current quarters in the civilian settlement, someone else was moving in, and by all the belongings that were being shifted from truck to residence, they would be here for a while. The newcomers were a somewhat unusual sight here, being a family of Su-27's, all painted in a colorful scheme of deep candy-apple red with accents of blue and gold. It was also apparent that the parents had not been in military service for some time.
Trailing in their wake were two children, a boy of perhaps nine or ten years, and an older girl approaching her mid-teens. By the look of their mother, there was another one on the way very soon, for fast jets had a twelve-to-fourteen-month gestation period and didn't really show until the last three months. She was looking tired and a little less than comfortable as she anxiously watched the mixed crew of humans and forklifts ferrying the family's belongings into their new home. Her mate emitted a deep whicker from his chest and nuzzled her as he leaned in to give her support. The two children looked over their new surroundings with a somewhat blase attitude; frequent moves were nothing new to them. But to their mother, these environs would have to be home for awhile, at least until the latest addition to the family was weaned and ready to keep up with the rest of the family over a distance. The parents conversed with each other in Russian, but the kids passed easily between that and English as they traded the usual repartee and insults of siblings. The boy in particular seemed to be built on springs, circling his sister while teasing her about boyfriends, or the lack thereof in this place.
Finally, Mom had enough. ["Illya, settle down and stop your pestering! No one wants to hear that now, especially our new neighbors."] The boy snorted, dorsal arched and wing roots hunching, but he grudgingly obeyed. The "Mom Voice" was one thing, but "Pissed-off Russian Mom Voice", if disregarded, was a portent of dire things to come.
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Post by elizar on Jul 11, 2010 19:50:17 GMT -5
"The next three months are going to be long for the kids." Daryush said. And for their mother. He thought hopefully. "And anything I do will be suspect for Paul." He added. "The only reason for why we're not in a battle of wits now is just because his kids are here."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 11, 2010 20:09:04 GMT -5
"We kind of noticed the unusual quiet here." Sheckinah smiled wryly. "Yesterday you had old Hammer-boy foaming at the mouth over football, of all things. Did he lose a bet or something?"
"He does gamble a little bit as well." Pepper snorted. "That's all he needs now, another vice."
"Half of me doesn't want to hear this." Brenda sighed wearily. "But I'll be dealing with it just the same."
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Post by elizar on Jul 11, 2010 20:28:43 GMT -5
"All of us don't want to deal with that." Daryush shook himself slightly and yawned. He was tired after today's exercise. "But this has been quite a eventful day I have to say."
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 11, 2010 22:56:26 GMT -5
"Yeah." Pepper caught the contagious yawn. "I think I should make it an early night."
Brenda was getting set to return to her quarters with her daughter. "Good night." Her workload in particular was contributing to a pattern of early-to-bed-early-to-rise. And she was to be on the flight line and ready at 0530 the next morning.
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Post by elizar on Jul 12, 2010 6:46:12 GMT -5
As the hour passed, the cafe was soon empty of most working fighter jets. Daryush had gone to his quarters soon after Brenda had left.
The day after Daryush woke up about two minutes before the set time to wake up. He only had to picture an alarm clock in his mind for him to wake up at the set time. He was quick to get a morning bite before heading to the field ready for today's work.
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Post by Evangeline on Jul 12, 2010 10:08:09 GMT -5
Brenda was up at 0430, leaving the still-sleeping Becky under the watchful eyes of an attendant while she went off to the clinic to "saddle up". The back canopy was re-opened and the interior re-sprayed, then the fitted felt liner put in before the cockpit base, seat, instrument panel and pressure pads, which were attached to levers and motors which were in turn wired to hand and foot controls to deliver cues for throttle and control surfaces. Then, it was off to the flight line.
The pre-flight checks for this system alone were extensive, to ensure that it was correctly fitted, the pads and motors working smoothly through the slits in the liner and not getting obstructed by the felt, and that Brenda was getting the correct amounts of pressure from them. Of course, it had taken extensive training and experience for Brenda to interpret that information correctly, equivalent to a dressage horse at Grand Prix level, and all that on top of her background as a seasoned - and blooded - multi-role fighter.
Once the electrodes were in place to take EKG readings and store them in the onboard computer, she was good to go, at least in the physical preps. Mentally, she had to "ground and center" into an alpha state, then place all of her responses under perfect control to ensure consistent responses to the pressure cues.
At this point, GC Bateman showed up, suited and ready. Even in her altered state of consciousness, the F-18 tipped her head in salute and murmured a greeting. Bateman felt the warm breath rolling down on him from Brenda's nostrils, vapory in the cool of the morning, and checked the state of her eyes while he stood on the platform beside her, seeing that her pupils were no larger or smaller than they should be. His fingers traced a thin scar across her right cheek, a place that still itched from time to time, and gently scratched the firm but somewhat flexible skin around it. When the ground support crew gave their OK, he put on his gloves, gently climbed into the now-ready cockpit, and strapped in before donning his helmet and mask.
As Brenda was freed from her constraints, she moved in an almost languid fashion, shifting her grey eyes to the marshaller and blowing out softly as she passed him. About midway down the taxi lane, she started her engines and allowed them to take over the small work of propelling her the rest of the way to the runway. Bateman dealt with the tower's instructions, to keep Brenda's focus on him. Then, the rest of the squadron would join them, though the others had woken later, requiring considerably less in the way of preparations.
Today would be a little different. In ones and twos, the others would be taking on the team formed by Brenda and her "pilot".
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