AWD #208: Can You Hear Me Now?
Can You Hear Me Now?
Summary: Several Viper pilots participate in another of Holtz's simulated exercises, an attack on a Cylon listening post. Victory comes at a high 'cost'.
Date: 02/08/2013
Related Logs: None
Holtz Warren Taylor Phin Atalanta Maia Agrippa 
Flight Simulators
The Air Wing has access to flight simulators to train pilots off the ground in combat maneuvers and situations that are hard to replicate with regular dogfight practicing and this is their home. A rectangular room, the hatch opens up beside the bank of computers that control the simulations and what is seen by the individuals when training sessions are in progress. The sims are actual cockpits cut out of old frames and installed here to function exactly as the real thing, right down to oxygen plugs for suits. In front of each cockpit, complete with armored glass, are LCD screens that cover most of the front view to the front and above. There are two Vipers, two Predators, and one full-cabin Raptor available.
AWD #208

Warren is here early, his flight helmet sitting on one of the sims, his flight suit pulled off to his waist. He himself is sitting at the monitors going over the last sim run's flight data. He's jotting down notes as he watches.

Phin also arrives early. Flight suit zipped, but still sans helmet. That, he's carrying around under one arm. "Hey, Toast," he says to Warren as he makes his way through the hatch. He moves around so he can look at whatever Warren is watching over the older lieutenant's shoulder, though he tries not to rubberneck too disruptively.

Warren glances up as you step in and gives you a nod, "Hey Dolly. 'least I'm not the only early one eh?" He grins a bit and glances back at the screens. Its the 2v2 on the screens, apparently he seems to be trying to figure out just went wrong with his maneuver when Agrippa blasted him good.

Agrippa has arrived.

"Punchie's got a wicked shot," Phin says, as he takes in what Warren is looking at. "He edged ahead of Storm in kill counts for awhile, though I think our SL has taken that again. I've tried to copy how he and Storm shoot, a little, but I can't see to get it the same." He and Warren are both early for exercises. Phin's presently standing behind Warren, who's sitting at one of the monitors.

There's a nod to that. "He is good with the guns I'll give him that, but I should be better with the stick than that," Warren intones as if it should be fact. He plays it one last time before finally hitting pause again, "Damn it right there, cut just a little early, gave him a perfect shot. Too focused on clearing you off Centerfold I let him just tear through me." He shakes his head, "At least it was the sims." He glances up to Dolly, "Gonna start running some more Sim runs like that one with the Squadron, wouldn't mind your help setting some of em up. Want to do one in asteroids so people are ready when we hit the belt again"

"She did pretty good," Phin says, of Maia. He sounds a little surprised, adding, "I didn't know how much sim time she'd put in in a Viper, and from what I recall from flight school they handle real different." He grins. "Sure. I think I can do that. Mostly, I wish we knew why the Cylons were so thick in that belt. Which we can't figure out until we find…whatever it is that makes them so interested. But I want all the practice I can get. Still not used to operating under those conditions." He's hanging by a monitor Warren is sitting in front of. They're early, and talking Viper shop.

Ohhh, Atalanta. Dear Atalanta, forever punctional and supposedly so, so serious. So of course she was expecting the room to be empty when she arrived. Of course she wasn't expecting anyone here. Of course she's humming to herself when she strides through the door in her flight suit, completely unashamed of her love for wretched 80s girl rock. She's part-way through a strain of Pat Benatar when she catches the last words falling from Phin's mouth, at which point, she stops short and straightens her face. There is nothing to see here. Move along. Her throat clears. "Gentlemen," she says, coolly.

After changing into his flightsuit, Agrippa left the Viper Berthing only to catch sight of his new wingman around the corner, farther down the corridor. "Oh frak…" He says as he watches her step into the Flight Simulators Room, knowing that she's usually early or at the worst, on time, so that means he could be late. Jogging the rest of the way there while fastening the last buckles of his flightsuit, Punchdrunk steps in side, pretending that he was only a couple of steps behind the LadyCAG. Seeing the others in here already, he gives them a wave of hand in greeting.

Warren gives a nod to Phin, "Well yeah, thats why I -" And in walks the DCAG rocking out to Pat Benatar. He tries not to smile. Really…he's trying. Honest. I mean that wouldn't be good. He already shut the door in her face once this week by accident, smiling and letting her notice he noticed certainly isn't going to earn him brownie points. He clears his own throat and straightens a bit before pulling up his flightsuit, grabbing his notes, "Major."

A binder tucked under his arm, Holtz walks into the simulator room in the middle of the conversation, a few moments after Atalanta's entrance. He's clad in blues instead of a flight suit, however, and he heads for the simulator computer rather than the pods themselves. The nub of a cigarette is planted in his lips, and he takes one last drag before extinguishing it in an ashtray sitting next to one of the computer chairs. "All right, people," he calls out in his patented Instructor Voice, "if you'll grab a pod, we'll get started, yeah?"

"Teatime. Sir." Phin tries for moderately casual, though his posture still automatically straightens at the entry of a senior officer. Holtz gets a more actual-casual, "Hey, Storm." And he moves to secure a pod.

Being the last one to step into the room so far, Agrippa didn't have time to stand to attention so he is more or less hoping that the senior officers didn't notice. When Holtz tells them to head to a pod, Punchdrunk moves, choosing one next to one that Atalanta will be choosing. A quick, "Sir," is also added as a formal greeting before he moves into his own pod, getting ready to power it up and ready for today's assignment.

Taylor enters the room quietly only a couple seconds behind the LadyCAG, head down and trying to be as unassuming as possible. His flight suits rustles a little bit as he nods to the LadyCAG (who he hopes doesn't see him), the squadron leader up front (who with luck doesn't see him), and a couple other pilots around the room who he hopes notes his presence in a less-than-spectacular way. He makes his way to a pod, slipping into one quietly.

One brown brow arches in response to the general reaction. Or perhaps that's in response to the use of her callsign, which — if rumors are true — no one has yet dared to call her out of the cockpit. "Lieutenant McBride," she says in greeting, pointedly. She then slips into the pod nearest Agrippa, where she sinks gracefully into the seat, immediately beginning to secure her helmet and seal collar.

Warren gives a nod towards Holtz before he starts heading over towards the pod he already had his helmet on. He slides into the pod tucking his notes away before grabbing his helmet and popping that on. His hands immediately then start moving to fire everything up there in the pod getting ready for the exercise.

Holtz moves to stand in front of the row of simulator pods, hands clasped behind his back as he paces up and down. "All right, people. Your mission is an assault on a Cylon listening post on a rogue moon. It's a pretty barebones setup; your target is a small comm tower on the moon's northern hemisphere. Your simulated intelligence officers — " Holtz offers a small, sardonic smile at that — "believe that defenses are light; should be no more than a squadron of standard Raiders, dispersed in patrol patterns around the moon's surface. If you strike quickly, you might be able to get in and out before the bulk of their defense forces come to bear."

Holtz comes to a stop, his eyes sweeping across the line of simulator pods and the pilots inside them. "Major Franklin will be commanding this mission; from this point on I will offer no intelligence or advice. Any tactical directives will come from Major Franklin, while I'll be running the OPFOR from the simulator control console. Wheels, I'm sticking you with Dolly on this run. Toast, Bigmouth got called to fill in on CAP rotation last-minute, so he couldn't be here… but I've generated a simulated wingman for you."

Phin offers Agripp and Taylor and an open-and-close palm that serves as a wave before ducking into his pod. Fixing his helmet on his head. Taylor is given a thumbs-up, such as he can, as Dolly closes his faux-canopy. He's ready when they are.

After Agrippa sits down inside his pod and begins going through the sequence of starting up, he slips on his flight helmet and then listens in to the impromptu briefing, a smirk appearing when there is a mention of simulated intelligence officers. "Simulated intelligence officers… wonder if they're better than the real ones." He murmurs more to himself than anyone else as he waits for the mission to begin.

"Roger that Major," Warren says as he gives the thumbs up and then shuts the cannopy getting settled in for things to begin. Theres a smirk for a moment as he talks to himself, "Wonder if the intelligence officers walked up and just asked the cylons what their patrols were like?"

As the canopies start to close, Holtz's voice crackles over the com. "Lieutenant Smythe, say hello to Pickle. He'll be flyin' your wing this evening; he doesn't say much, but he does what he's told." The blip of the simulated Viper obligingly flashes on Warren's screen.

Taylor offers a weak smile at Phin before turning his attention to his pod. Slipping on his helmet, he clicks it in place and begins looking over the pod in front of him, pre-checking his instruments and the monitor in general. Not that a faulty instrument is going to cost him his life, but habits are hard to kick.

There's a quiet laugh from Franklin — perhaps at the mention of "simulated" intelligence officers, or perhaps at the mention of poor Pickle. Either way, she makes no comment. She simply begins running through her flight check as best she can manage without an actual Viper to inspect. Even in the sims, things go wrong. Go unnoticed. Sometimes, they're programmed that way. She's started humming to herself again while doing it; fortunately, the gods are merciful, and she isn't doing it over the damned comms.

Phin grins slight about 'simulated' intelligence as he goes through his pre-flight. He's systematic about it, for all that these pods should always function just fine. He doesn't put it past his superiors to blow the unwary up with unexpected mechanical failure.

With his check finished, Agrippa's simulated bird is ready to fly as he chimes in, "Flight, Punchdrunk. All systems green, ready to rock."

The screens come to life to display the pockmarked, airless surface of a small rogue moon. The Vipers materialize inside a ring of rocky debris orbiting the moon; for the moment, they are likely hidden from Cylon DRADIS, but with nothing to hide them outside the ring, they'll likely be visible once they emerge. The barely visible specks of a half-dozen Cylon Raiders are visible in the distance, split off into two groups of three with a short distance in between each group. A seventh blip, likely the Cylon listening post itself, is detectable on DRADIS but as yet cannot be seen by the naked eye.

Warren clicks through the preflight check making sure everything khosher. "Hello Pickle, I'll be your lead tonight. Lets go blow up some toasters," he says into the coms as he clicks through the end of pre-flight. "Flight, Toast. Board is green, Pickle and I are ready to rock and roll," he intones as things come into view grabbing the stick.

When Franklin finally does click her comms on, her voice is sharp and clear, albeit with that slightly off electronic tone. "Flight, Teatime. My board is green and we're good to go." A pause, as she peeks down at her DRADIS, which she soon disregards in favor of giving their target a simple two-eyed stare — which she has far more confidence in. "Given the need to accomplish our objective quickly, we'll be splitting off into three sections — one to engage each of the groups showing on DRADIS, to hold them off of the third section, who will be targetting the comm tower. Dolly, Wheels, that will be you." It seems Taylor's new callsign has already caught on.

With assignments being handed out, Agrippa remains silent as he studies his own DRADIS, looking at the stationary blip that is the listening post and then the moving ones that are certainly the Raider patrols. Since it is Dolly and Wheels heading to their main objective, Punchdrunk is ready to tackle the Raiders, looking forward to it even if they are simulated.

"Flight, Dolly. Green and going." Phin sweeps his compu-Viper into position for his section of their little operation. "Wheels, on my seven o'clock. I'm told I leave my port side too open." He instinctively cranes his neck back to check Taylor's position, before he remembers. Oh, computer. So he looks at the instruments instead.

Warren glances at the DRADIS getting a feel for the battlefield for a moment before looking out towards the targets. "Copy that," he intones before glancing towards the other vipers in the simulated black and then back out towards the objectives. His hand flexes around the stick a moment getting ready for all hell to break loose.

As the Vipers accelerate out of the ring, it doesn't take long for the Cylons to respond. The two patrol groups of Raiders, each on divergent courses, swing around and rendezvous, entering a single formation as they take a position near the listening post they've been charged to defend. Several moments later, a small spire-like structure becomes visible in the distance. As the Colonials approach, they can tell the tower has defenses of its own; a track-mounted omnidirectional minigun integrated into the spire itself. Once the Vipers are in range, the Raiders break to attack and the gun begins swiveling to track the nearest enemy fighter.

"Dolly, Wheels. Solid copy, forming on your seven." Taylor guides his simulated fighter into a smooth flight just behind and to the left of Dolly's Viper, eyes flicking back and forth as the glide through space.

Phin sets in a straight-ahead course for the tower. "Teatime, Dolly. Course laid in. Heading toward objective. Wheels, fly tight. That thing probably won't be happy to see us." His eyes twitch at all those Raider contacts but, while he revs up his guns, for the moment he ignores them. Eyes on prize, so to speak.

"Flight, Teatime," she says, her voice cutting in across the radio. "Looks like they've spotted us. Fangs out." A beat, as she punches the throttle, her Viper thundering forward. No, they won't be hiding behind asteroids. Not this time. "I don't want these gods-forsaken bastards getting off the first shot."

Just watching this time, to try and get some pointers, Maia listens and watches, back leaned against the wall. Unable to input anything, she just hopes to learn this time by watching the more experienced Viper pilots in action with simulated Raiders. Remaining as unobtrusive as possible, she just keeps silent.

When they move out of the rocky debris cover and towards their target, Agrippa maneuvers his Viper into position with Atalanta's, falling into formation. The DRADIS updates him, letting him know that the blips have switched from their standard patrol pattern to an intercept, and when his wingman feeds more power to her engines, he does the same. "Teatime, Punchie, understood. I'm on your wing."

Holtz is seated at the simulator's central computer, closely watching the readouts on the screens in front of him. He turns, though, when he notices Maia's shadow pass over him. "Sit down if you like, Lieutenant," he murmurs as he looks back to the terminals. "They're attacking a Cylon listening post. Just makin' their first run now."

"Tally Ho. Pickle, Toast. Lets clear the way for Wheels and Dolly," Warren intones into the comms as he bears down on the targets. He presses that accelerator down accelerating hard moving to intercept the raiders heading towards Dolly and Wheels.

<COMBAT> Raider2 attacks Taylor with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Atalanta with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Phin with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider1 attacks Atalanta with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider5 attacks Agrippa with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Phin with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Pickle attacks Raider2 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Centraltower passes.
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider6 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Taylor takes careful aim at Centraltower.
<COMBAT> Phin takes careful aim at Centraltower.
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider1 with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Agrippa attacks Raider1 with KEW - Moderate wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider-4616i has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider1 has been KO'd!

Franklin's Viper launches into the pack of Raiders at top speed. There's no question about it. She's taunting them; if they want her, they're going to have to come and get her. Instinctively, she looks back over her shoulder to see who's following and mutters a curse as she remembers — sims, not the black. In the process, she doesn't pick up the one bogey whose nose she practically tapped, but two, more than expected. A low hiss comes out of her as she's forced to bank a sharp left, her fire arcing wide.

Head on passes is something that Agrippa hasn't shied away from since after the first couple of live missions against Cylons. As the distance between the two groups close rapidly, Punchdrunk calmly picks one of the Raiders out of the group and focuses in on it. Right as they reach into weapon range, he presses down on his firing stub and sends off a burst of his triple autocannons before juking his own fighter. His shots fly true as they slam into the red, visor'd 'face' of one of the Cylon fighters, shredding it while the return fire misses him completely. Once the pass is complete, Agrippa continues to fly with Atalanta to cover his wingman, spotting one of the Raiders swinging around to engage her, «Teatime, Punchie, you've picked up one on your tail, will try to pull it off of your six.»

«Check that, Pickle, Punchie, target has shifted off of Teatime and is now on your six!» Agrippa gives a quick look to his wingman's direction and sees that there are no more Viper dogging her so he continues to pursue his current target that shifted targets, ready to pull it off of the simulated Viper pilot.

Warren bears down as the first burst misses his intended target, leading just a little infront of it. "Come on, come on, come on" he says to himself off comms. He taps the stick adjusting his angle as he notices the raider turning on him. "Pickle, Toast. Go evasive you've picked up two raiders tails," he finally says into the comms to his imaginary wingman, "Wheels, Toast. You've got one left on you. Pulling him off you."

The Raiders are flying in their characteristic fashion, twisting and turning almost at random as they engage their targets. None of them have much luck in their first strike, with one of them exploding under Agrippa's fire, and several of the survivors peel away from their targets only to swing around and engage a different Viper a moment later.

Phin doesn't exactly fly straight. He weaves into an evasive pattern to try and avoid being toasted by the pair of Raiders pursuing him. He's in one piece when all things are said and done. So far. «Wheels, Dolly. We're coming into range.» Which he becomes uncomfortably aware of when the thing locks onto him. Still, he takes a more offensive rather than defensive position. «Standard side strafing pattern. Cut your fire a little below mine if you can, so we can hit it in a few places.»

Taylor keeps his Viper with Dolly as best he can, rolling and juking his fighter as Raiders strafe past his hull. He always keep the tower in front of his nose, though, training his weapons on it and lining up for his own strafing run. "Copy, Dolly. Following you in on it."

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Warren with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Taylor with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider2 attacks Pickle with KEW - Light wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Pickle attacks Raider3 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider5 attacks Agrippa with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Pickle with KEW - ARMOR on Tail stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Centraltower attacks Phin with 20mm Minigun - Critical wound to Weapon.
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider4 with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Taylor attacks Centraltower with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Phin attacks Centraltower with KEW - Light wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Centraltower - Critical wound to Neck.
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider5 with KEW - Serious wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Agrippa attacks Raider3 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Centraltower has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Viper-8311 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Phin has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider-4436c has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider5 has been KO'd!

The the gods for the good old sandwich tactics — or at least their leftovers. As Franklin pulls a wide turn, circling back around to stuff herself back into the midst of the hairball, she catches sight of a bogey that's newly settled on Agrippa's tail. "Punchie! Bank right!," she barks into her headset right as she slams down onto the trigger.

At the offer from Holtz, Maia does go over and sit down, rather belatedly. Once seated, she tosses a grin in his direction. "Can't wait till I can go out in a real one," she says quietly, not wanting to interrupt what he has going on there, but she is too excited not to say something to someone!

When he hears the words from his wingman, Agrippa doesn't hesitation and pushes his flight stick to the right to roll in that direction, then he pulls back on the stick to start pulling to the right. He has a worse update for Atalanta though as he sees a swarm of Cylons going after her, «New contacts! Teatime, Punchie, you have four on you, I repeat, four!»

Phin veers around tight toward the tower…but he's still pulling down on his guns when it opens fire on him. Gun shells ripping through his virtual cockpit. There's the instinct to pull out of it, but it shreds his front - including his cannons - pretty lethally. So instead, he turns into the skid and tries to control which direction he crashes. In this case toward the tower. He hits, too. Nose in the thing's structural 'neck,' in what the computer simulate as quite the impressive explosion. Hey, it gets the job done. Objective achieved! Also, Phin's Viper blinks 'dead' on the computer. So there's also that.

THACK THACK THACK THACK! The simulated feel of those rounds impacting his hull seem to be just enough to throw his shots just past the Raider trailing Taylor. But the shots seem to be just enough to let Taylor get out unscathed. Warren pulls hard on the stick and pushing hard down on the thruster pedal. He hits his com, "Teatime, Toast. Scratch the Tower but it got Dolly. Careful you picked up your fair share of bogies. Wheels, Toast, form on me. Wheels lets clear a few from Pickle yeah?" And then he's diving back into the furball.

Even as the communications tower goes up in a gout of flame, assisted by the fireball that is Phin's burning Viper, three new shapes emerge on DRADIS. Two more Raiders led by a larger, boxier Heavy Raider emerge from behind a jagged outcropping, screaming towards the remaining Colonial fighters with murder in their bobbing red eyes. Although the Raiders are flitting about, most of them under pressure from the Vipers, several of them have managed to coalesce into a small swarm, one of their favored tactics, and are attempting to envelop Pickle. Meanwhile, the Heavy, whether by chance or by design, seems to have eyes for the Vipers' leader as it zooms at Atalanta.

Back at the control console, Holtz finishes a string of input commands, a his face a stony mask as he watches the pilots react to the new aggressors.

Taylor rolls his fighter over and banks away from the explosion of the central tower, grinning from ear to ear. "Nice shot, Dolly!" It's not until he cranes his head to find his wing leader that he notices the simulated graphic has disappear. Swearing under his breath his thumbs his transmission button again. "Lead, Wheels. Dolly ate it, flying naked out here. Falling back."

"Wheels, Teatime. Toast called it — swing back around and form up with one of our sections," she says, her voice tense — and no wonder, with Agrippa singing out that she's got four bogeys on her tail. Franklin's grinding her teeth. They can hear it in her voice.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Bossraider attacks Atalanta with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Pickle with KEW - Moderate wound to Weapon.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Pickle with KEW - Moderate wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Taylor with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider2 attacks Atalanta with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Pickle attacks Raider2 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Raider8 attacks Agrippa with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider7 attacks Pickle with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider4 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Taylor tries to attack but has no target!
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Bossraider with KEW - Moderate wound to Cabin (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Agrippa attacks Raider4 with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Viper-7680t has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Pickle has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider-3926s has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider2 has been KO'd!

Phin opens up his pod, taking a deep breath as he pops off his helmet. Like he's a little winded, after all that. For a second he just sits there and regroups, wiping a hand over his sweaty hair.

Pickle valiantly scores a hit on one of the Cylons following Atalanta, but the small swarm of Raiders behind him proves too much for him to handle, and the hapless sim-pilot explodes in a flash of bright orange pixels.

Warren swings around pouring fire out into one of the raiders behind Pickle, but its not enough as Pickle explodes. "Wheels, Toast. Where the Frak are you?! Form up! Now," he calls out into the com. He lets go of the transmit button for just a second to yell Frak all to himself before thumbing it again, "Flight, Pickle's down. I'm still up but I've got a tail. Teatime, I've got the raider on you if you can handle the heavy."

There's evasive maneuvers and then there's trying to get the hell out of dodge — or in this case, the hell out of this furball, in the hopes that the fat bastard will follow her out into clearer space. "Toast, Teatime. Don't cover me," she barks. "Cover Punchdrunk! Two bandits are on his tail and I can't exactly target three raiders." The pitch of her voice has gone up a notch — it's not panic, but she's well-aware this is going downhill, fast.

Warren pulls off the raider he was following in towards Atia and shifts angles over to cover Agrippa, "Copy that, Got your six Punchdrunk"

"Right behind you, Toast." Shortly after he's doing just that, bringing his Viper up smoothly at Toast's seven o' clock and training his weapons on the nearest Raider.

Within seconds of rocketing out into clear space, Franklin drops her Viper like a stone. Her favorite maneuver — let the bandit slide right past her, overshooting while she screeches to a halt. And then…. surprise! A blast of orange fire comes bursting from her guns, cutting across the Heavy Raider's engines. A hiss pours out of her. A hope. A prayer, maybe, that it will be enough to light him. She only waits a split second to see, singing out on the radio, "Punchie, Teatime. You alright back there?," even as she's swinging her Viper around, swooping back towards the fray. Buzzing a few. Is she insane? It's like she's trying to get them to swarm her.

Phin steps out of his pod now, moving around to the console so he can watch the simulation progress on the computer. "So," he says to Holtz and Maia, as casually as possible. "How're we doing?"

«Teatime, Punchie. I'm still good, the two bogeys are still on my tail and it looks like they're getting /very/ antsy. So is the one still on you, they've stopped any juking.» Agrippa gives his wingman a status update as he pulls through another roll to try to shake his tail. Coming out of that maneuver though, he now bears down on the Raider that is after Atalanta, focused on making the shot and trusting his squadron mates to take the ones on his tail.

"About time," Waren says to himself as he pushes accelerator hard, and pulls the stick coming about on his target. He taps his com, "Wheels, Toast. Five tallies left, and they're going hard. Don't overextend, and lets clean them up." And with that he's tapping the firing nub again.

Holtz briefly looks up from his readouts as Phin approaches, gesturing to the screen in front of him. "They're still alive," he notes. Peering up at the younger pilot with a mildly stern expression on his face, he utters a dry, "You know, Dolly, the point was to take it out without killing yourself in the process."

"Copy, Toast." Quickly Taylor flips his fighter around to train on the Raider that just sped past him, squeezing his finger on the trigger to spray bullets after him.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Taylor with KEW - Light wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Warren with KEW - Serious wound to Controls (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Raider8 attacks Agrippa with KEW - Serious wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Agrippa - Light wound to Right Leg.
<COMBAT> Raider7 attacks Agrippa with KEW - Moderate wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Atalanta with KEW - ARMOR on Nose stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider7 with KEW - Serious wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Taylor attacks Raider3 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider8 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Agrippa attacks Raider4 with KEW - Serious wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Raider4 - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Raider4 - Moderate wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider-1633 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider4 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider-3094s has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider7 has been KO'd!

"I wasn't coming out of that hit," Phin says. A touch defensively. It was pretty bad. Maybe lethally bad. But he had enough control left to steer and hit the tower. So one might wonder how hard he looked for other options. "Anyway, the tower was destroyed. That was the mission, wasn't it? Anyway, it was just a simulation."

There's some incoherent mumbling that comes from Franklin, likely little more than nonsense through their ear pieces. Of course, judging by her tone, that nonsense is most likely her swearing under her breath. "Flight, Teatime. We've got three bandits left — one on each of you. Keep juking, see if we can clean this up."

The Raiders close to pointblank range, seemingly wanting to get revenge for the loss of their listening post and their Heavy Raider. However, the Vipers are ready for them, and their sudden pell-mell charge ends with two dead Raiders and only a couple heavily damaged Vipers to show for their troubles. Nevertheless, they continue to bore in on the Colonials, seemingly unconsious of their sudden numerical disadvantage.

At the computer, Holtz just shrugs, clearly unable to resist ribbing Phin a little further. "Well, I'd rather my pilots not waste a perfectly good Viper on a dinky listening post, yeah?" A smirk.

As Warrens guns light up and tear through the raider in his sights, tailing Punchdrunk, he feels the rounds from the one chasing him tear through his own viper. There's the tell tale signs of control damage. He grits his teeth as he speaks into the com, "Punchdrunk, Toast. Scratch one toaster off your ass but I'm in bad shape got to pull off." He shifts jamming on the stick trying to make the turn taking any shot he can at the first raider that comes across his line of fire, its a quick burst not overly aiming as he's pretty bad up for control at this point.

«Teatime, Punchie, your six is clear.» Agrippa pipes in the update after his Viper gets rocked /hard/ twice by the two Raiders that were intent on killing him, how his fighter is still flying is unknown but it's certainly a lot more sluggish now. He returns to evasive mode as he pulls back on his flightstick, trying to coax as much speed and maneuverability out of his fighter as possible. He does select one of the Raiders that are chasing his squadron mates and angles its way while focusing on juking.

Phin smirks back to Holtz slight. "I'll save the hardware for a basestar or something," he says. He crosses his arms along his chest, and leans back on his heels a little as he watches the mop-up. From what he can see on the computer.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Taylor with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Warren with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider8 attacks Agrippa with KEW - Critical wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Agrippa - Moderate wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Agrippa - Moderate wound to Chest.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Agrippa - Moderate wound to Left Foot.
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider3 with KEW - Serious wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Taylor attacks Raider3 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider8 with KEW - Light wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Agrippa takes careful aim at Raider6.
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Agrippa has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider-7830w has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider3 has been KO'd!

It was more or less inevitable, especially with the Cylons throwing caution into the wind and diving in for the jugular, Agrippa's heavily damaged Viper is too sluggish. As much as the Viper jock wants to make it dance, instead of being a nimble dancer, it's acting like it's rolling around space mud like a pregnant sow so when the Cylon dives in and its autocannons open up, the projectiles rip through the fuselage of the already shredded Viper, blowing it up rather easily. This means that Agrippa's screen goes black and with a sigh, he hits the switch to open up the pod and pulls off his flight helmet while stepping out.

Warren grabs the stick with both hands as it shakes from the simulated feedback from his maneuvering and the combat damage to his viper. That quick burst seems to do the trick on the viper he slashed past, but he winces as he sees Agrippa's blip disapear off DrADIS. "Frak. Two left," he says to himself as if to just reassure himself that maybe they'll make it out of here with at least one viper alive. "Teatime, Toast. One on your six. Think ones still on my ass. Viper's holding together, just barely," he says as he really works to bring his viper around on the one on the Major's tail.

<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Atalanta with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Raider8 attacks Taylor with KEW - ARMOR on Body stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider6 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Taylor attacks Raider8 with KEW - Light wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider8 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

"Toast, Teatime. Your six is clear. Stay hooked on Wheels." Age old advice. Stay with your wingman. Never fly alone. Ever. "Try and sandwich the one on his tail if you can." She rolls sharply, trying to lead the Raider on her tail off, away from the other two — ignoring her own advice, in the hopes that 2-to-1 odds will be enough to keep them flying.

"Teatime, Toast. Copy that going in" Warren intones working the viper around doing his best to bring it around, on target, to peel the one off of Taylors six. "Come on, Come on, Come on just a little more" he says thumbing the firing nub again.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Raider6 attacks Atalanta with KEW - Moderate wound to Body (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Raider8 attacks Taylor with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Warren attacks Raider6 with KEW - Light wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Taylor attacks Raider8 with KEW - Light wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Atalanta attacks Raider8 with KEW - Critical wound to Body.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Raider8 - Light wound to Left Arm.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Raider8 - Serious wound to Left Leg.
<COMBAT> CREW HIT! Raider8 - Light wound to Right Arm.
<COMBAT> Holtz has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider8 has been KO'd!

"Rough times, Grips," Phin calls to Agrippa as the other 'dead' pilot unplugs from his sim pod. His eyes quickly flick back to the monitor, though, a low whistle escaping his lips.

Warren adjusts his grip on the stick as the fire causes him to jump slightly off target, only scratching the paint of remaining raider. "Teatime, Toast. One tally left. Care, he's on your six now," he says as he works the stick again trying to line him up again before hitting the firing nub hopefully for the last time this run.

Releasing a tired breath, Agrippa looks to Phin and nods his head in agreement, "Yeah, damn Cylons just got super aggressive once that Heavy Raider was dead. Managed to bag a couple before I bit the sim farm." Looking over to where the Squadron Leader is in control, he spots Maia not too far away, surprised that she's here.

It's a gamble that paid off. She forces off one of the strays, lining him up in her sights. It — and her complete lack of anyone covering her six — leaves her wide open. A flash of KEW comes from her cannons, slicing across the Raider with such force that cracks, then bursts, flying apart in several pieces. Some bounce off of her nose, but it's the fire from the bogey tailing her that rattles her teeth. "I see him!," she sings out, flipping end over end to point her nose at the lone wolf, slamming back in her seat from the G-forces it creates inside her cockpit.

"Come on Come on" Warren says to himself, "Almost there…" ANd then theres the flash from his cannons and sees the hits, the explosion. "Teatime, Toast. I -" and thats when he notice the major's no longer on the board. He growls and hits the side of his cockpit with his fist in frustration. "Flight, Toast. All bogies silenced. Return to the barn," he sighs heavily, "Damn it."

She should be more upset, shouldn't she? Slamming her fist into the throttle, swearing under her breath, something. But she's not. Franklin simply pops her seal collar and pulls off her helmet, dislodging several pieces of blonde hair that have become somewhat damp and matted during the course of the exercise. Long fingers brush them back from her eyes before she bothers pushing herself out of her seat.

Phin winces some at the latest sim readouts, watching the DCAG exit her faux-Viper. He straightens his posture and stands still. Waiting for…however she's going to react to their performance.

As the last Raider goes up in flames, MISSION COMPLETE flashes in blocky green letters on the screens of the last two Viper pilots before they go blank and the canopies open. Holtz shuts down the simulator and rises from his seat, stepping down to the floor in front of the simulator pods, standing in the same place he'd been when delivering the mission briefing. "Well. Not the sharpest op I've seen, but it could have been worse. Accordin' to my calculations, you took out the tower before it was able to get off a distress signal… but the cost was awfully damn high for such a minor target. Two-thirds casualties, and if this had been real, Lieutenant Smythe's Viper would likely never fly again." His eyes sweep down the line before focusing in on single pilots for individual evaluations.

"Ensign Taylor. I'm prepared t' accept a number of sins in my pilots, but indecision is not one of them. Once one target is down, you go lookin' for another one. That hesitation after the tower went down might well have contributed to the death of one of your squadmates. Though, points for surviving to the end."

"Lieutenant Agrippa. Try to remember, in the thick of battle you're not always going to get the perfect shot, yeah? When you see an opportunity, take it. You might not get another. In this case, you didn't."

"Lieutenant McBride, we've already spoken about your… unorthodox choice of tactics. A Viper for a comm dish is hardly a fair trade, yeah?"

"Lieutenant Smythe, I'd say you redeemed your poor performance in the last simulation. You did well to make to the end, especially after your ship got shredded like it did. Though I wish you'd have been able to save poor Pickle." His tone is a little dry at that.

"Major Franklin. Try to remember that, at times, the best defense is a good offense. I noted at least one occasion where you could've scored a quicker kill if you'd committed more fully to the attack — and it's not like you had chromebits on your tail at every moment."

When Holtz begins to give them the debriefing and evaluation of what he saw, Agrippa nods his head when his name came up.

With the canopy sliding open Warren's pulling off his helmet. Despite surviving he looks frustrated as he starts to climb out of the cockpit as Holtz dresses everyone down. Out of the cockpit he's pulling off his flight gloves tossing them in his helmet. He shoots a glance over to Atia, "Sorry Major, wasn't quick enough on the last one. Shoulda had you cleared sooner." He doesn't say much else, and doesn't even glance over in Taylors direction right now.

Phin almost looks like he wants to ask a follow-up question to Holtz's evaluation of him. But he utilizes some brain power, and doesn't. He just nods and says, "Yes, sir."

"Don't," Franklin says to Smythe. There's no sharpness in her voice, no rebuke. Instead, she simply states, "If this were a real dogfight, I wouldn't be here to apologize to, anyway." She gestures towards the screen, her expression purposeful, pointed. "That… is why you never fly alone." Her lips then press together into a thin line, one which slowly drains of color, turning them from pink to a fleshy-white. "Unless Major Holtz has anything further, you're all dismissed."

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License