ALT #381: What Will Come Will Come
What Will Come Will Come
Summary: Post-drills, Warren, Phin and Jason jaw on where they've been and where they might be going.
Date: 22/01/2014 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Nah
Jason Phin Warren 
Landing Zone — Piraeus
Just outside the fences and gate to Sheridan, the first official town on the new planet, is a large area about one hundred yards by one hundred yards covered in perforated, steel planking. The dirt below seems to have been tamped down solid and the planks sit several inches below a 'step up' to the rest of the terrain. There are several green lights surrounding the plating at the edge to mark it as visible from the air. Along the edge are a few Vipers and Raptors parked under semi-permanent structures with basic ground crew kits nearby. A cinderblock shed sits at the edge, the entire top half covered in plexiglass that acts as a control tower, several long, whip antennas on steel supports sit on either side.
AWD #381

Vipers don't have to pull planet-side duty that often, but Phin was down for atmospheric drills today, so he's just finished touching down in the landing zone in one of the little ships, waved into position by the ground crew. Though not as busy as the battlestar's hangar, there are ground crew and a handful of personnel on Raptor duty milling around, not to mention all those taxi'ing to and from the planet. It's near the end of the proper 'work' day as the planet turns, the sun getting close to setting, though there's still some light left in the sky.

For his part Warrens down on the ground in his flight suit co-ordinating things. Having already run most of the drills he's working through paperwork, co-ordinating with some of the ground staff. At the moment he's talking to another one of the Viper jocks, "You can't pull turns like in space, air resistance man. And watch your landing, knuckledraggers won't be happy if you scrape those skids to hell and back every time you land…"

Shaking his head as he gets out of one of the Raptors, still in his flight suit, Jason speaks to someone still inside. "I'll be right back after I've taken care of a few things. Nature calls, they say." Heading off towards the side of this area for now, a bit quickly.

Phin descends the ladder rolled over to his Viper from the ship to the ground. The first thing he does is take off his helmet and run a gloved hand through his short, sweaty hair. Enjoying the opportunity to breathe actual fresh air, which is even more of an improvement over the cockpit than the recycled air back on the big ship. He's handed a clipboard, on which he starts doing a quickie post-flight. He's not far from Warren but he leaves the Captain to the other Viper pilot for the moment. Jason does get a wave. And a snorted chuckle, when he catches what the Raptor pilot says as he heads over to the side.

"Eh. They can handle it," the other viper jock says.
"They can handle it? Ensign those knuckledraggers keep you alive out there, you really want to piss them off? I hear you talking like that again you're going to be polishing the squadrons vipers with your toothbrush. Now get your ass back to your postflight Ensign," Warren intones sternly before shaking his head before glancing around. He gives a nod to Phin, and glances back towards the Ensign who looks none too happy, "Next time watch Dolly, you could learn a thing or two." He grins and gives a wave towards Dolly now, "Nice flying up there."

Catching that wave, there's one in return from Jason before he disappears for a little while to do his important errand now.

Phin blinks, kind of shrugging awkwardly at the ensign. "I used to like flying in atmo," he admits to Warren. Though there's a decided past-tense about the way he says it. "First thing I ever flew was a paraglider on Scorpia, which is all about gravity and wind currents and stuff. It's actually made for them, though. Vipers get a little dicier, and I've kind of come to appreciate the…nothing of space. Especially after Picon."

Warren smirks to Phin, "You mean a glider designed for atmo flys better in it than a glorified lawn dart?" He grins and nods, "You mean flying through storms and fighting raiders at the same time isn't your favorite thing to do? Well you'll be happy to know we have some upcoming flights there then. We'll be lending them a hand covering some CAP time there."

Phin chuckles at that from Warren. "Guess that's about what I meant, yeah. Picon CAP? I won't complain about that. I wouldn't mind if it was a different colony we were flying over but, got to start somewhere." He makes a check on his post-flight sheet, though it's pretty routine stuff. And the main of his attention is on Warren now. "Have you heard anything about when we might be jumping off next? Like, offensive-wise, I mean. The CAG mentioned Command was looking at plans for Libran and Aerilon, but just in passing. I didn't want to press my luck and ask for details."

Warren nods at that, "Yeah well we still need to hold what we've got so theres that." At the second part he glances down at his paperwork a moment and shrugs a bit at that, "As for where we're going next, you know as much as I do at this point honestly. Still waiting to hear the word on that. You know how command moves, their own pace and with us all in the dark till they think we need to know. Course it would help if we knew so we could run a few sims and such but hey we're just the grunts in that respect."

Jason returns from wherever he went off to, stepping back towards the Raptor now. Of course, his steps take him near where Phin and Warren are, offering them both a grin. "Hey, guys."

"Hurry up and wait. Until they want to throw you at a giant basestar full of Raiders," Phin says wry. He's gained some cynicism over the last year, young as his boyish face still looks. "Yeah. The Cylons backed off Picon way easier than I thought they would. Kind of makes me feel like we're waiting for the other shoe, y'know?" He turns his head toward Jason, raising a hand to wave again. "Hey, Supes. What's the word? Good or bad."

"Oh come now Dolly. They don't throw us at -a- giant basestar. They throw us at entire facilities full of raiders, with basestar support," he says with a smirk and a shake of his head. He looks up when someone calls out and gives a nod over towards Jason, "Hey man. How's it going?"

"The word…" Jason grins a little as he hears Phin's words, looking around for a few moments. "Is pie. Don't ask me why, that's just the way it is. And it's going quite well at the moment, thanks. How about you two?"

"I like pie," is Phin's firm opinion on that one, at least. He shrugs. "I'm OK. Still breathing, and in Cylon-free territory, which is probably as good as anyone can say these days." Warren's words get a very wry "Heh." "Right, sorry, misspoke. Multiple basestars, ten squadrons of Raiders, while fighting in atmo with Centurions on the ground toting rocket launchers." He's joking, but it's black humor. Who knows what's in their future.

Warren laughs a bit at that, "Pie. I could do with a nice cherry pie. Oooh or one of those nice mince meat pies drenched in good brandy? mmmmm." He shakes his head at Phins comments, "Careful, keep talking like that and we're liable to have to deal with twice that number in the middle of a huricane" Theres a smirk but its a darker smirk like he half expects that to happen, then again after Picon who could blame him. "Things are going good, mostly," he says before raising his voice just a bit, "Sides from some hotshots who don't know how to land their fracking vipers properly." Theres a bit of a grumble that can be heard by one of the other vipers.

Jason grins, "You mean there's a proper way to land those things?" This offered to Warren, before he grins at Phin. "Can't we just go up against those fuel depot things again?"

"I'll never be called a hotshot, at least," Phin says, a little dryly, but it's probably true. His flying style aims more for understated competence, though he's gotten much more competent this last year. To Jason, "I wouldn't be surprised if we had to. Or something like them. Truth be told, I don't know what we'll be facing. I've been involved in a few fly-over missions over Aerilon. Just a couple. Place is a frakking mess, from what I remember. Massive anti-air, and the humans left down there don't really have much air support of their own to speak out."

"Of course. Don't crash, and don't give the knuckledraggers any extra work buffing out your skids. Its sorta like a raptor, except less giant bolder, and more lawn dart," Warren says with a chuckle. "As for the fuel depots? Eh. We're much more likely to be asked to play seven minutes in heaven with basestars and AA batteries because we lost truth or dare"
GAME: Save complete.

"Well, I'm sure we will handle whatever comes." Is this the same Jason that was quite a bit less optimistic half a year back? A grin is offered to Warren again now. "Ah, that's why some of the times I've seen Vipers trying to land planetside, they come down nose first…"

"What kind of ops were you guys involved in on the Rubaul?" Phin asks Warren. As if suddenly aware he's not really asked, before now. "I get the impression from you guys that it was a lot harder over there than it was for us this past year, but most of what I've heard is about what went on on board. With the skinjobs and the like." The Captain's words get a chuckle. "I never did play seven minutes in heaven. Went to an all boys' school. Wasn't really into that. I know enough about the gist of it to figure I wouldn't want to be in a closet with a Raider, though. Even if it was a heavy one."

Warren smirks at Jason, "Well they are glorified lawn darts in atmo…" To Phin he shrugs, "We fought. Struck where we could. Picon? A rehash of our time before we found you guys. Course with more rations, less hotbunking and the like. We were always on alert, because we had to be. Was better till we lost the one super dread but…not by a lot. Well there was less hot bunking and such but it felt like we were always on alert striking where we could, wondering when they would strike back. We have it easy. Hell the Rubaul and such have it easy now. Planet to come to, safe haven of sorts. This is like paradise even on a shitty day. We had it pretty bad out there before you guys found us. Hell the CAG? She's as thin as she is cause she was giving up rations to keep others in fighting shape."

Jason nods as he listens now, pausing as he hears the words from Warren. "Sounds like a true hell back then," he offers.

"I wonder what Piraeus'll look like in a year, if we get more refugees from the other colonies," Phin says. "Even with the people from Picon coming in, it still felt kind of like a small town that had a military research base in the middle of it. Now it's getting bigger than some cities back on the worlds." He sounds ambivalent about this. Though he adds, "Glad there's a place for people to run, though. We owe them that. And I thank the gods the Cylons haven't found us." About the Rubaul, he nods. "Thank gods you guys found us, too. We never could've taken Picon without the Blackjack battlegroup. Never could've even thought about it."

Warren nods to Jason a bit, "It was hell but, what we were put together for that. Granted I was on the Rubaul before that even happened but…Shit. Thats what we were there for, to fight the cylons in case they did what they did. So we fought for everything we could. Didn't know about the big P here at the time. Did what we could…" He shrugs sadly and then nods to Phin, "Maybe in a year or two it'll be like one of the colonies, built up, civilization again. Not that this isn't civilization compared to things but you know what I mean. And you say thank gods we found you….thank gods we found you. A place to resuply, to decompress, to rest. It was a gods damn miracle when you found us. Not that we would have given up the fight but frak. How long could we have dealt with those conditions before things just fell apart? probably a while longer but it wears on you, who knows how long we would have been able to keep that up before things went to hell and we broke our own backs."

Jason nods a little as he listens, looking about to say something when there's a shout from the Raptor he was in. "Coming!" he calls back, before he shakes his head, "No rest for the wicked, right? I'd better get going. See you guys later." And he heads off to the Raptor now.

"Yeah. Maybe we can even start moving people back to Picon, if it holds," Phin says. He still says 'if.' Other shoe, and all that. He waves Jason off. "Later, Supes. I should probably get my post-flight filed, get ready to head back myself. Though I might stay and watch the sun go down. Nice to get a few hours planet-side now and again." To Warren, he nods. "And we probably would've just kept hiding out, without the strength to really take on the toasters. Wasn't killing us then but…no way to live, y'know?"

Warren gives a nod to Jason, "Later man." He glances back to Phin, "Always good to get some rest. And yeah, we ended up helping each other out big time in the end. Thank the gods right?" He smirks and shakes his head a moment and nods, "Go take care of your post flight I got a few things to finish up co-ordinating myself."

"No rest for the wicked," Phin echoes the Raptor pilot, as he takes his own leave, to return to his paperwork. "Later, sir." And with that, off he goes to finish his checklist. And enjoy the end of the day.

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