PHD #036: Battle of the Sims
Battle of the Sims
Summary: Sim training with the pilots. No flyboys were harmed in the making of this exercise.
Date: 2041.04.03 (PHD: 36)
Related Logs: None
Cidra Sitka Alessandra Psyche Evandreus Tisiphone Daphne NPC 
Flight SimulationFlight Simulation - Deck 11 - Battlestar Cerberus
Post Holocaust Day #36
A training room specifically dedicated to honing aerial skills, this area is equipped with several flight simulator pods that allow the pilots to practice maneuvers and tactics without being in a real live plane. The Viper-pods are installed on one side of the room with a little space between them, an attempt to provide a realistic feel for close-range wing training, while a smaller number of Raptor sim-pods are installed on the opposite side of the room from the Vipers. A central computer terminal and overhead display screen sits at the head of the room, where one can input exercises and data to be run in the sims, scroll through score records, and control the training modules.

Cidra is standing at the central computer terminal, rather hunched over it as she pecks at the keyboard to get things loaded up and in order. It's still a few minutes before The Appointed Time for this exercise, so the pilots haven't filtered in yet for the most part. Today's exercise is part of the Wing's standard training regiment, albeit one that's been ramped up a bit now that they have some breathing room. Parked at Parnassus. Must take advantage of that while they can.

Slipping in quietly as is habitual for Alessandra, Lucky comes in and immediately takes up space against one bulkhead at the back of the room, her right foot brought to cross over the left ankle, her arms then slipped around herself just at mid-stomach. She doesn't say anything but the CAG is given a polite nod and even goes as far give the Captain a quick smile.

Tisiphone isn't quite as unfashionably early as she'd be for something at the Chapel, but it's close. "Sir," she calls to Cidra, as she slips in. "Hope you don't mind me watching. Catch the footage while it's fresh, you know?" A quick grin, there and gone again, at one corner of her mouth. The sim-cam footage will be added to the stack she and Bell are poring through, soon enough.

"Ow. OW. Stop that, I'm going to drop you," comes a querulous noise from Evan Doe as he bundles down the corridor at a lope, bearing his ECO on his back. 'Bearing,' being the optimal term for the patient sufferance with which he endures Stiffy's heels battering his hips as she gives a whoop, "Yaw! Giddup!" and generally seems pleased to have convinced Evan to carry her to the sims in such a fashion. When he turns around the edge of the hatchway into the room, "Woooooah, Nellie," his backseater calls out, and Evan gives a snort which, remarkably, doesn't sound entirely unlike a mildly dissatisfied equine, pulling his arms out from under her thighs where he's supporting her. "One of these days you're going to use up your equity on that near-death experience, Stiffy," he warns her, but affectionately. "Go pick us out a sim, yah?"

Daphne's promptness is of the 'diseased' variety normally reserved for people on medication or with deep seated social issues. She arrives precisely on time. Not a second early, not a second late. It's possible that someone has seen her practice this, going to far as to time how long it takes to actually step inside. Somebody's got issues.

"HiwhattimeisitamIlate??" This is the battlecry of Psyche — and it's not at all unusual (though she seldom is late, in fact). She scurries in with her helmet under her arm, sporting that damp-and-disheveled, just-off-CAP look. She puffs and spins almost two whole rotations before she locates the clock, confirming her timely arrival. Her own ponytail whacks her in the face for her troubles. She pffthpts and wrinkles her nose.

A soft metallic jangling precedes the arrival of the Petrels' Captain, who's in the process of pulling his dogtags over his head as he steps inside. His fatigue jacket's hauled on shortly after, concealing the majority of the dark ink sprawled across one arm. "Hey, Lucky," he greets the viper stick on his way past that bulkhead she's holding up. "Just supervising tonight?" A flickered smile's sent her way, and a couple of steps taken backwards before he heads for the CAG.

Cidra straightens up from her semi-hunch to her normally straight posture as the pilots begin to drift in. "Apostolos. Not at all. One can still learn through observation. Over here." She gestures a thumb to Tisiphone beckoning the central terminal, where she's standing. Raising her voice she adds, "Into a pod, if you will. Let us get this underway. Some of you may recognize parts of this exercise from your training days. It uses extensively tactics and data gathered from the early Cylon War battles over Sagittaron." The first Cylon War, that is. "Difficulty levels have been…adjusted a bit to attempt to better approximate our current situation." Blue eyes flick to the approaching Sitka. "Shiv. Ready to teach the youngin's a thing or two?"

Alessandra has been watching the progression of people arriving, the smile she afforded to the CAG soon fading, leaving her with the same emotionless mask that can usually be found upon her features. She then blinks and looks at Shiv, her expression slightly puzzled for a moment. "I'm going to be flying," she comments only to then follow that with a quickly muttered, "Our SL would kill me if I didn't." Clearing her throat, she steps closer, approaching Sitka hesitantly, whispering something to the man while absorbing what Cidra said as far as the explination of what it is they're looking at facing during their training.

"After staring at footage for three weeks, Sir? Professor Bell and I are /the/ back-seat driving /champions/." Tisiphone pushes off from her own perch against the wall, heading over toward where Cidra's gestured to. En route, she crosses behind Daphne, giving her a light shoulder-check with her good shoulder. "Clock's fifteen seconds fast in here," she says, teeth flashing in a sudden, slightly tense grin. "You weren't late."

Evandreus takes a moment to stretch out his back and greet folk once Stiffy's dismounted. "Hey, Shivers," he tells the guy, lifting a hand to wave over to Tisiphone and Daphne when the two come within proximity of one another. Further greetings cut short as Cidra recommends getting going, garnering a quick nod from the Raptorbunny before he goes to figure out which sim his backseater's gotten into.

Psyche sets her helmet down on the workspace of an unoccupied terminal, bounding over to a pod and climbing inside. "Woot! Let's fly!" She wriggles down into the seat and straps in, cracking her knuckles and looking as though she's downright itching to begin.

Sitka's social mastery might leave something to be desired. The puzzled look from Alessandra's met with a somewhat sheepish smile, and he slows, head canted slightly toward the younger woman when she murmurs to him. "Sure thing," he replies, low-voiced. A brief touch to her shoulder, before he turns — hands sliding into the pockets of his fatigues — to listen to the Major. "I'm sure they've got a thing or two to teach me, sir," he answers her query with a chuckle. "Do you want me to saddle up, or need any help over here?" He indicates the terminal with a tip of his chin. Evandreus, too, gets a belated smile in greeting.

"Saddle up, if you please," Cidra replies to Sitka with the barest hint of a grin. "We shall need a proper Lead. Better to observe the practical aspects of it, anyhow. I'll get you and the other SLs a copy of the computer's log once we're through."

A soft sigh of relief and a nod is what Shiv is gifted with as far as her response goes, that grouped with a grateful smile as well. "Thanks. Will get with you soon." Psyche and Even are waved to and then she's gone, making her way towards one of the simulators. "Back in the sims…" she mutters to herself before slipping in, getting everything ready from the inside.

Daphne leaves, heading towards the Deck 11 [Out].
Daphne has left.

Something the CAG says makes Tisiphone chuckle and lift her casted arm to scratch delicately at the corner of her mouth until the urge to comment fades away. "Anything you need me to do, Sir?" she asks, more seriously, looking away from the CAG after a moment to watch everyone clamber into their sims. She slouches her good hand down into her pocket and bounces a few times on the balls of her feet, seeming rather anticipatory, eyes moving back to the currently-blank simscreens.

Evandreus finds his ECO after a few minutes of hunting, and then disappears right in there with her. It's more cramped than an actual Raptor, of course, but it's built for two. Barely. Fortunately, as evidenced by their entrance, they have no particular problem with the proximity of one another. Evan gets the sim up and running and links it into the game code that's flashing active, assuming it's the one he's supposed to be on. "Am I coming through?" he wonders into the simucomms to the other faux boats linked into the game.

The screens within the simulator pods flash to a computerized image of a starfield with a rather cartoonish Sagittaron imposed in the distance. Reasonably clear. A far cry from the debris-strewn field they've been dealing with flying around the Parnassus Anchorage. No boogeys are immediately visible, though it's unclear if they're yet to be programmed in or are just hiding out there, somewhere, in virtual space. Cidra arranges a little headset over her ears, so she can speak over the comm link to the pods. "i've got you, Bunny. Objective is search and destroy. Initial scouting has reported a light Cylon presence near these coordinates hovering close to the planet's orbit. Viper patrol dispatched, with Raptor coverage for defensive jamming. Captain Sitka, assign your wings as you will and we shall, as it were, see how it plays. Remember, sticks with your wing."

Alessandra grins just a tiny bit as she shifts in her seat, getting comfortable. "Over the river and through the woods," she half-sings while watching the images come up on the screen, her eyes squinted slightly as she takes that in. The situation's familiar, it being not unlike the scenerios they used to run while in flight school, but the fact that there are new variables being added in has her nervous. "Gods…" she grunts under her breath before simply listening, awaiting for their assignments.

Psyche rubs the back of her neck and fidgets, fingers twitching and twiddling on the stick. She listens to the chatter but is, herself, silent — becoming abnormally focused. As the seconds tick by, the fidgeting calms, and she's still but for her breathing.

Sitka retrieves his own headset, and pulls it on while firing up his console. Flick, flick, flick. He has to hunt a little for a couple of his gauges, seeing as they aren't where he expects on his little beater of a first war antique fighter, but after a few moments his voice comes over the link with a clear, "All right, I'm good to go." Then, "Athenos, you'll be flying Lucky's wing. I'll play interference— and Apostolos, you can come backseat for me." He crooks his finger across the room at the Ensign. "Ready when you are, sir," he adds, to the CAG.

Cidra sinks into a seat as the pilots get themselves in order, settling in to watch the show. A crooked brow up at Tisiphone when she's summoned, then a glance at Sitka. Curious. Tisiphone is given a small nod. "Go ahead, Ensign. It should not tax you overly. And it is always more interesting to observe while in the thick of things."

"Yessir," chirps Psyche, confirming her orders. "Lucky, I've got your back."

"Search and destroy. We search, they destroy," Evan chuckles off-comms to Stiffy, behind him, not very loud, since she's pretty close to him and neither of them are in helmets. "Get some jamming solutions queued up for us, and then see what you can do about spotting these guys." For his part, he finds a nice spot sort of in between the pairs of vipers as they coagulate into groups, giving himself optimal escort cover while heading a little low-z on their plane.

Tisiphone looks from Sitka to Cidra, pale brows shooting up her forehead a little. "Sir?" she inquires, then: "Of course, Sir." She ducks her head a bit as she quick-steps it toward Shiv's sim before the festivities really kick off.

"Roger, Shiv." Pursing her lips, Allie has to think before nodding, grinning. "Got yours too," she casually comments to her wingman. Yes, she has learned her lesson. Now it's just a matter of waitng for the training to begin.

<FS3> Alessandra rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Evandreus rolls Alertness: Good Success.
<FS3> Psyche rolls Alertness: Success.
<FS3> Evandreus rolls 4: Success.

Sitka turns away from his screen briefly as Tisiphone approaches, blue eyes flicking up to the young woman's face, then back again. "Pull up a chair," he suggests, indicating one of the uncomfortable metal contraptions arranged at the nearby table. "Pair flying," he explains, with a minute twitch of his lips. "I'll fly, you'll make tactical suggestions, and offer critique." He closes his hand over the stick, and rolls out his shoulders. "I haven't touched a seven in years, so your input'll be valuable."

<FS3> Sitka rolls Alertness: Success.

Cidra quirks a brow in Tisiphone and Sitka's direction. Curious as to how this shall go. And then, a few commands are entered into her terminal. Click, click, click.

"Oh. Hi!" Is Stiffy's greeting for the Raiders cropping up on DRADIS. "Time for a different sort of tea party, Bunnybutt. You bake the biscuits and I'll spread the JAM. A little for -you- and a little for -you- and a little for -you- and a -lleeeettle- for -yooou.-"

Tisiphone pulls one of the metal torture devices up as suggested, and settles at Sitka's right. Trying to point with her casted arm in the thick of combat would be more comedy — and plaster-filled — gold than she's interested in. "Right, let me show you how to break your arm, Sir." A wide, brisk grin accompanies the snarky statement. "Fly like your flaps are held on with duct tape," is her next bit of wisdom. "She'll feel twitchy and fragile."

Alessandra sees the enemy as they come up on the DRADIS. "Key is teamwork," Lucky drawls to her wingman, "And shooting at the same target means we're twice as likely to hit. Flight, I got four Raider on the DRADIS. That is four enemy contact. Shiv, do we have permission to fire?" She waits to hear the Captain's orders before moving in to intercept and attack.

It's a little unorthodox, but maybe that's just how the Captain rolls. Cidra hasn't yanked on his leash yet, though his eyes flicker her way briefly before returning to his console— just in time to spot enemy contacts on the screen. "Looks like we've got company, girls," he speaks into his headset, with a quick smirk tossed Tisiphone's way. "Copy that, Lucky. You two split left, I'll see if I can create a little suppression fire for you. Weapons free."

"Sounds reasonable enough to me, El-Tee. I'm following your lead," Psyche responds to Alessandra, amiably. "You say jump, I say what axis." She takes off the safety and banks left, to the side and just slightly behind her wingman, watching Lucky with one eye and the Raiders with the other.

Once the 'search' bit of the process seems to have yielded way to destroying, for the time being, Evan shakes his head with a grin for the commentary from the backseat, then, changing course, rises through the degrees of carom to get the vipers one more direction of between him and the shootybirds over yonder. "Frequencies are open, feed through those jamming suites as you will, Stiffy."

Alessandra sighs off-coms, her brow dips, adding quite the crease as she does. "Roger. Weapons free. Psyche, break left on my mark…3, 2, 1….mark." She pulls her Viper into line with those Raiders to that side, trying to line up a shot. "Keep your hand steady if you can…" she advises while taking her first shot. "Take one on the far left."
<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Raider3 passes.
<COMBAT> Psyche attacks Raider1 with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider1 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider2 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider3 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider4 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Sitka attacks Raider2 with KEW - Light wound to Weapon.
<COMBAT> Raider4 passes.
<COMBAT> Raider2 passes.
<COMBAT> Raider1 passes.
<COMBAT> Evandreus passes.
<COMBAT> Alessandra attacks Raider1 with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cidra has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.

"She'll go for an engine shot if she can get it, and double back to her right." Tisiphone's only half-watching what's coming up on Shiv's DRADIS, sounding distracted. "Count on her wingman to target her target. If you can flush them toward her, it'll be easy pie. Watch your boost with the Mark Sevens, they're jumpier than you're used to."

The enemy blips in the computer simulation don't immediately note the blips bearing down on them. That changes, however, when the Vipers start firing. A pair of the Raider blips veer to target the fighter pilots, but the other immediately take an interest in Evandreus' Raptor-blip.

Shiv's eyes are focused on his screen, even as he's absorbing the commentary from the pilot seated at his left. There's a brisk nod as she mentions the boost, and a thunk as he stamps on one of the foot pedals and simultaneously jams his weapons. The simulated kew strafes across the raider's flank, but does only glancing damage, according to his readouts. "No kidding," he murmurs to Tisiphone, presumably regarding the jumpiness. "Pretty frakking touchy." Into his headset, "Take your time lining up a shot, ladies. Don't rush it. You've got this, your positioning's good. Switch targets, our raptor's picked up a couple of friends."

Sitka adds, "Lucky, looks like you've got a tail. You might want to juke. Athenos, you on her six?"

Evandreus hangs back further and further from his escort when they all dive after their targets, keeping on the periphery of the madness, trading cover for distance, which turns out, in the end, to have been a poor gamble, as half of the Raider gang decide to peel away from the thick of the combat and hurtle through the dark toward his outpost. "Yah, a little help up this way would be grand," he calls out over comms, sounding lighthearted enough about it all, staying mostly in position for a moment longer while he queues up a list if maneuvers, entering the course corrections one after another, waiting until the incoming pair gets in closer before suddenly spinning and diving from his lethargically floating position, like a sleeping fish suddenly awake and away. "Keep that lock up, Stiff."

Alessandra shakes her head. "Gods, this is going to piss me off. I'll try to shake him and take a shot, Shiv. Psyche, keep up the good work. Don't let the mother frakker rattle you." With that Raider out of her sights, she tries to multi-task, that being getting the Raider on the Raptor targeted and shot at, leaving her wingman to face the one on her backside on her own, for now.

Psyche's first shot flies wide, missing the target. "Shit," is muttered on-com — intentionally or no — but not much else. She takes a deep breath and exhales, re-focusing. "Yessir. I've got it." She banks out wide in a half-split, letting the raider on Lucky get ahead and then swooping back in to take her shot.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Psyche attacks Raider1 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Raider3 attacks Evandreus with KEW - ARMOR on Left Wing stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Raider1 attacks Alessandra with KEW - Moderate wound to Left Wing (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider1 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider2 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider3 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider4 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Sitka attacks Raider3 with KEW - Light wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Evandreus with KEW - ARMOR on Right Wing stops the attack!
<COMBAT> Raider2 attacks Sitka with KEW - Moderate wound to Nose (Reduced by Armor).
<COMBAT> Evandreus passes.
<COMBAT> Alessandra attacks Raider3 with KEW - Serious wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Cidra has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider-9829u has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider1 has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider-2538d has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider3 has been KO'd!

"You and N-uh, Spanner both, Sir. Quick to close. I'd put money on him ramming his targets in a Mark Seven." Tisiphone's mouth twists a little at one corner as she says it. Quieter, still with that detached thoughtfulness: "Keep an eye on Lucky; she might lose awareness of her wingman now that they've split targets."

Whether it's a stroke of luck or skill in handling the programming, the boogey blips do not fare so well as they flip to engage. One the mock-Raiders on the Raptor is blown out of the water by a pair of hits from the Vipers on it. The one on Alessandra also has its computerized life cut short, Psyche's hit sending it spinning.

"Sierra frakking hotel, Lucky," whoops Shiv into his headset, as Alessandra lands solid hits on one of the raptor's bandits. "Nice work. I'm going to try dragging my bandit across your path in a second here. See if you can nail him for me. Athenos, give me a sandwich on Bunny's friend in ten, nine.." His head jerks toward Tisiphone without him taking his eyes off the screen, and she's given a curt nod to signify he understands and acknowledges, even as the countdown continues.

Evandreus waits a little long on setting off that queued list of maneuvers, catching one shot on one wing and one shot on the other, but having twisted enough in the meanwhile that each shot simply glances off of the hull plating, leaving scuffs on the paint but no registered damage. His boat sways, evening out into a coursing arc down underneath Duckie and Bubbles, seeing if he can drag the enemy still on him back into the sights of the Vipers.

"…belay that," Shiv amends, a heartbeat later, "Lucky, your tail's back. Try to shake him loose; Athenos, stay on her six."

And then there were two, leaving the others, now destroyed, to become fake trash in virtual space. "Good shooting, Psyche. Come back up behind me." She pulls herself out of her previous approach vector, looking to get her wingman back to where she can keep a better eye on her. "Yeah, that was frakking sweet," she compliments the Captain, her grin widening. That is until she sees that she's being lined up for another attack. "Well, looks like they want to put their name on my dance card. How frakking romantic." Rolling her eyes, she goes to shimmy-shake it off. Hopefully she'll be able to help Sitka get rid of the other.

"Woo! Nice shot, El-Tee!" Psyche crows. "Eat it, you miserable pieces of no-frills, regifted kitchenware!" In Psyche's world, there's no greater ignominity than 'regifted'. She throttles back and turns, cutting across Shiv's wake to flank the raider's other side. "One sandwich, coming up, sir."

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider2 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider4 with ECM. <successful>
<COMBAT> Sitka attacks Raider2 with KEW - Moderate wound to Right Wing.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Alessandra with KEW - Moderate wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> Raider2 attacks Evandreus with KEW - Serious wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> Psyche attacks Raider2 with KEW - Light wound to Left Wing.
<COMBAT> Evandreus passes.
<COMBAT> Alessandra attacks Raider2 with KEW - Critical wound to Cockpit.
<COMBAT> Cidra has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider-3033y has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider2 has been KO'd!

<COMBAT> If Raider2 was your only NPC in this combat, please switch your type to 'observer' so the pose tracking works properly.

The Raider blips veer off for a different approach when their first two fellows are blipped away, but another gets blown away all the same. But not before it gets in a nasty hit on Evandreus' abused compu-Raptor. The remaining Raider sticks with Alessandra, for its part. Still untouched and angling back for another pass. All alone now.

"Alright…now let's get this bastard off of my ass, huh?" The juking and evading can only work for so long and luck has a habit of running out, as Allie knows. She tries to bank to the left and get in a shot, the fact that she's having to fire while doing so…well, if it works then hey.

Though his mock hits were solid enough, there's a soft grunt from the Captain when he sees the beating their raptor takes, a moment before the raider blips off his DRADIS. He eases forward more gently on his control yoke, gradually starting to get the feel of the seven's jumpier systems— partly thanks to Tisiphone's coaching. "Lucky," he chastises into his headset, "when I said juke, I didn't mean storm in with your guns blazing. Drop back and let us take care of it."

The gambit works — sort of. Evan leads Raider2 directly into Alessandra's crosshairs, but in doing so he catches a shot to his cockpit. One that probably would have hurt quite a lot if that had been a real shot. Lights blink at him from all over the inside of the false cockpit, causing the pilot to utter a murmur of disapprobation. "We can't take another shot like that," he lets the others know over the comms, "Cutting south, hopefully you guys can keep that one distracted." And, true to his word, the bird jerkily jinks in a southerly arc out toward Pseudosagittaron, out of the thick of things.

Evandreus speaks up on the heels of Sitka's comment. "Lucky, come hold my hand on the way across the street?" he asks of her, requesting, after a fashion, an escort out of the combat, since Sitka's ordering her out of the game, anyhow.

"Ow!" gasps Psyche, wincing at the hit Evandreus and his ECO take. "Bun-bun, Stiffilicious, no dying. Not even pretend." That's just not cool. She moves to intercept the raider on Lucky, taking aim.

<COMBAT> Triggering new turn.
<COMBAT> Stiffy suppresses Raider4 with ECM. <unsuccessful>
<COMBAT> Sitka attacks Raider4 with KEW - Light wound to Engine.
<COMBAT> Raider4 attacks Alessandra with KEW but MISSES!
<COMBAT> Psyche attacks Raider4 with KEW - Moderate wound to Body.
<COMBAT> Evandreus passes.
<COMBAT> Alessandra attacks Raider4 with KEW and MISSES!
<COMBAT> Cidra has started a new turn. Pose and choose your action.
<COMBAT> Raider-8441g has been KO'd!
<COMBAT> Raider4 has been KO'd!

"Man, none of us can stop shooting long enough to keep an eye on a Raptor," Tisiphone murmurs. She's lifted her hand to curl long, pale fingers around the back of her neck, her eyes more intent on the information Shiv's DRADIS is showing her. "Better, better," she changes that to, as the raider's blown away to pixel-dust.

Alessandra blinks and then looks up. "Well, sure. I'll just ask Mister Raider to not shoot me in the backside." The attack is pulled up and away from, now but it seems to be a little late as the sole remaining Raider is now dusty-dust dust. "Sorry. Hard to put an end to that maneuver…" Clearing her throat, she calls out to her wingman, "Hey, Pysche. How are you doing? Managed to keep from getting hit, yeah. Bunny, I owe you and your ECO a drink or seven. Make good on it."

"I'm spiff, El-Tee — the toasters were all too interested on munching you and Bun-Bun to pay any attention to me." Psyche grins, settling back in the afterglow. Even if it is digital. "Super slick, Captain S, Sir."

And in a flash on their screens, the last enemy blip disappears. It's last shot flies clear past Alessandra's faux-Viper and it is dispatched into simulated oblivion. Cidra's voice comes over the mic as it's blown away, "Exercise cleared. All pilots may power down as you will."

As the last enemy contact is blasted into simulated shrapnel, and subsequently winks off DRADIS like its counterparts, Shiv blows a steady breath out his nose. His eyes stay on his console though; Tisiphone's remark just gets a wry smile out of him. "You too, Athenos. Good job staying on target." Once Cidra gives the cue to power down, he unstraps his harness and reaches over to flip a couple of switches. "You're right about the sevens," he tells Tisiphone in a low voice. "I guess the software must've changed a little, since I flew one last."

Evandreus isn't going to be too fussed over getting pretendyshot, but it does dampen his mood a little bit while he disengages from the game and shuts down the sim. "Nice ECM coverage, Stiffy. You really do know how to keep it up," he snerks a little, alluding, perhaps, to the origin of Stiffy's callsign. And then he's crawling out of the little compartment, one arm slinging up on top of the pod as he wriggles out. "Not your fault, Duckie. I had no call getting in the middle of that. Should have turned tail and ran" Which is his usual sort of maneuver. Retreat is sort of Bunny's go-to tactic of choice, and he's obviously regretting his deviation from the pattern, "Let you had the shot at his back instead of his face."

Alessandra's slow to power her 'bird' down, each switch toggled with a fair span of time between each switch being put into the 'off' position. "Yeah, so," she says to herself as she undoes the buckle of her harness and then open the canopy, exposing her to the relatively fresher air outside the cockpit. "Hey, now. It's good to do it now, Evan. Gets us used to new ways of doing things." If he allows it, Allie pats him on the arm and then nods to his ECO, Stiffy getting a wink out of her as well. "Don't let him beat himself up too much, eh?"

Psyche tumbles out of her pod like a puppy, brimming with slightly clutsy enthusiasm. She stretches and bounce-dances in a little circle, working off the adrenaline. She leans against her unit and listens to Lucky and Bunny de-brief. "I'll get 'em faster next time, Bunny-buns," she promises the Raptor pilot. "You can count on it."

Tisiphone pushes herself up from her chair, dropping her hand from the back of her neck to pull her temporary seat out of the way of Sitka's sim. She hooks her casted thumb on one pocket, slouches her other hand down in the opposite pocket, and takes a couple steps back to distance herself from the post-combat celebrations. "Yeah?" she replies to Shiv, seeming a bit restless, now. "That's- uh. That's cool. Guess all the footage is paying off."

Cidra removes her little wireless headset, placing it back on the terminal, and stands. "The simulators are still a bit behind the real thing, I think. But, you dealt with them soundly enough. Fortunately for Lieutenant Doe that was not prolonged. We'll be turning over the data with your squad leaders. In the meantime, you've dismissed." Eyes flit briefly to Tisiphone and Sitka. Still curious. But she does not make them linger.

Athenos' antics seem to amuse Ibrahim slightly, judging by the faint smile on his lips. Though it turns a touch wistful as he lowers his eyes and finishes powering down his unit. After a quick rifle of fingers through his hair, he climbs on out, and gives the machine a pat-pat with his hand. "You did fine, Evan," he offers the raptor driver's way, with a flash of blue eyes. "Sometimes shit happens, no matter how good your flying." His hands tuck into the pockets of his fatigue trousers, bunching up the cuffs of his jacket around his wrists. "I should've been more on the ball, anyway. How long until that cast comes off, Apostolos?" he asks while watching the CAG.. watch him. However briefly.

Psyche flashes a big, bright smile at Cidra. "Thanks for running us through our paces, sir," she says to the CAG. She pats herself down, the universal sign of cigarette-seeking, but instead produces a small wad of bubbglegum, which is duly unwrapped and popped into her mouth. She shoves her hands into her pockets and enthusiastically masticates, eyes skittering from person to person, perhaps lingering to see if there's any post-sim fun in the offing.

"Another checkup in four days, Sir," says Tisiphone to Sitka. Four days, twelve hours, thirty-five minutes, but who's counting? "Time to see how much of a toothpick is left under here, after that. Then physio for, uh. However long it takes." She clears her throat uneasily at the same time as she tries to smile; it comes out looking very flat. Eyes move from the Captain to the Major, holding there with uncertainty. "Sir?" she asks.

"Ensign," Cidra rejoins to Tisiphone. Inscrutably. "I am gratified you shall be back to flying with us soon." She's just watching. An inclination of her head to Psyche as the LTJG skitters off.

Evandreus reaches about with his other hand to clap atop the hand on his arm, smiling at Duckie. Then, over to Sitka, a smile brightens into something more lively. "Right. Better get all my bad karma out in the sims, yah?" He leans an elbow against the pod he'd been 'flying,' and, as Stiffy crawls out, she wraps her arms around his neck and lifts a knee up to his hip, trying to climb back on, will he or nill he. "Ugh. Stiff," he grunts. "What? You said I done good. Don't I get, like, a triumphal procession back to berthings or something? Don't make me get my spurs." "I should have asked Boots to come with me," Evan informs Stiffy, letting her crawl on, anyhow, with a good grace. "He knows that a pilot doesn't always have to double for a pack mule. And he's lighter than you, on top of all of that. How much do you -weigh- for crying out loud?" Yes, Evan will ask that of a lady. In retribution, Stiffy just puts her hands over his eyes. "Ha! Looks like you got blinded by that hot load of Toasterjizz you took to the face, Bunnybutt. Now maybe you'll appreciate having a trusty ECO conveniently lodged on your back."

"Thank you, sir. It was fun." That's said to the CAG on the tail of the other verbal shows of gratitude that have been made, Alessandra taking to motion as she goes to leave herself. "Excuse me, please. I got a date with a hot shower, I think." A look to Sitka and Tis and she nods to them on her way to the hatch, Lucky's egress slower than usual as she lets Even and his rider go out first.

If there is any fun in the offing, the Captain doesn't seem inclined toward initiating it. He chuckles softly at Evan's antics with his ECO, though his attention roves back to Tisiphone shortly. "I, uh, remember spraining my wrist, once, back on the Delphus. I thought I was going to go nuts with the waiting." He touches her shoulder lightly. "Looking forward to having you back up there." And after a moment's worth of studying her, he pushes away and strolls on over to Cidra with that habitual slouch in his shoulders. The departing pilots get a brief smile as they head past.

Cidra offers departing Alessandra another nod, eyes flitting back down to the computer terminal as the pilots filter out. So she's no longer staring creepily at anyone in particular. She lingers, however.

"It can't happen soon enough, Sir," Tisiphone replies to Cidra with deep earnestness. Leave it to a pilot to be champing at the bit for more life-or-death combat. "I'd chew the damn thing off if it'd get me back in the cockpit any faster." She glances over at Sitka — his hand, more precisely — and nods. "Thanks," she says, simply. "I'm- back to the footage. Thanks for letting me eavesdrop." She ducks her head to Sitka, then Cidra, and then she's scooting for the door.

Pfeh. Nobody's any fun. At all. Psyche sighs, blowing a large, pink bubbles as she trails Lucky out, nodding. "A shower sounds like bliss on chocolate cake," she agrees, eventually disappearing to parts elsewhere.

Psyche leaves, heading towards the Deck 11 [Out].
Psyche has left.

Tisiphone leaves, heading towards the Deck 11 [Out].
Tisiphone has left.

Sitka steps up alongside Cidra at her terminal, already patting down his pockets for his pack of cigarettes. After a few awkward moments of loitering, he mumbles, "I, uh, wanted to apologise, sir. If I was out of line there."

Alessandra leaves, heading towards the Deck 11 [Out].
Alessandra has left.

Up comes Cidra's gaze. Meeting Sitka's. Or trying to. One might almost think the effort amuses her. "Hmm? Ah. With Apostolos, you mean. Had I objected, Captain, I would have let you know." One of those very faint smirks curves her lips. "It was either that or sit back here with me and just review the data, and at least you kept her as occupied as she can be in her state. Medical reports she is healing well, which is encouraging."

Sitka slides out the pack, and taps a single cigarette out. His lighter doesn't follow, so he's probably planning on smoking it elsewhere. "All right," is his quiet concession to her first words. Nope, no eye contact, though his blues do come up long enough to note her smirk, and his lips twist to the scarred side with a reciprocal one. "It is good to hear. I think she's got a keen eye. Might make a good instructor, one day." Another glance at her screen. "Anyway, I'll get out of your hair, sir." He remembers his salute after a moment, turns, and trudges off for the hatch.

"She is very young, but there is much potential in her," Cidra agrees. "And she has used her time down productively rather than wallowing in her state off flight status. It bodes most well. I shall see you later, Shiv." With that, the salute is returned and she lets him fly free.

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