PHD #424: Concerning Flight
Concerning Flight
Summary: Maggie "Jugs" Quinn gets back in the saddle. Or pilot's seat, as the case may be.
Date: 26 Apr 2042 AE
Related Logs: None
Cidra Quinn 
A Raptor, in Space
Post-Holocaust Day: #424

After so long off the flight line since her adventures on Leonis - and subsequent pregnacy - it is time for Captain Quinn to be back in the cockpit. LCOL Cidra Hahn (newly promoted, don'tcha know), is taking her out on her first live flight back on the line. To get a bead on where her skills are after so many months grounded. Cidra is seated at the ECO station at present though, with them not planning on engaging in any jumping or other work that requires extensive electronic countermeasures, she'll be more or less free to observe. Quinn is in the pilot's seat. They're just completing pre-flight now, preparing to launch from the Cerberus' hangar deck and into the black of space around the Ouranos Belt.

"All systems read green from here, Jugs," Cidra comments, taking her nominal ECO duties seriously enough. "Launch when ready."

Quinn is back in the seat. Still a bit softer around the edges than she used to be, and definitely ..uh… chestier than she once was, Quinn is otherwise in fighting shape and ready to go back out there. Sims have, hopefully, kept her skill up to the same level as before, if not any better than she once was. Most everything falls back into place, partially from almost 20 years of flying before this and partially from the sims. It's sort of like riding a bike. "Jugs to Cerberus, requesting permission to launch…" She comms across and once it's given, she lifts off fairly damn smoothly and takes off out into the black of space.

Compared to some of the messes the Fighting Fourteenth has flown in for the past months, this bit of sector near the Ouranos Belt is a quiet region. The asteroids of the belt itself create some interference but the Fleet is parked well away from them. They can been seen far starboard, drifting a long way past the forms of the ships of the Fleet. The black itself is clear.

"Clear eyes and steady hands, Jugs. Take us one full rotation around the ships of the Fleet, regular CAP pattern. See how she rides." There is a regular CAP flying now, a pair of Vipers and a Raptor on patrol. Jugs and Toast's efforts are supplemental.

Quinn continues flying as smooth as, well, ever… But it's a smooth ride. It's easy compared to the shit storms she fought in and flew through before Leonis, so it's no surprise. If she's having any internal nerves about being out again, they're not showing at the moment. She draws in a slow breath of the circulating air through her flight suit and swings them into CAP patteron with the other patrol ahead of them. "Course steady… Looks like we're good. She seems to be riding fine… she just off the repair line?"

"She is, come to it. She was one of the Raptors that boarded the Areion to evacuate our people held there." Including Cidra, not that she makes note of her kidnapping just now. "One of the 'Evocati'…" The term is used with a certain twist. "…put a volley of KEW up her port thruster, but she managed to get our Marines over there and back. Accelerate speed, if you please. Let us see how she handles in the turns."

Quinn nods, "Yes, sir." She responds, and kicks in the speed, manuevering around the CAP easily, since she will soon out run them with the current orders she's been given. "…And how are you doing, sir?" She asks, quieter here, in just the in-house comm, those words not meant for anyone's ears but her ECO's.

"Well, let us see." Cidra's tone carries a rueful sort of bitterness, but it's aimed at herself rather than Quinn. "I was duped into trusting - and going to bed with - Lieutenant Colonel Baer of the Areion. Who repaid me by striking me across the face with the end of his pistol and aiding in throwing me in a cell with my commander and my comrades. Not to mention, I had a Cylon flying under my command for more than a year - gods, a year - and I never even suspected he - *it* - might be committing treachery. And for all this, I have been promoted to Lieutenant Colonel." She snorts. "Such is the good judgment of the Navy. Well, I suppose it is not worse than my own." She clears her throat, watching them speed past the Raptor flying the regular CAP with a certain satisfied nod.

Quinn keeps the speed up, falling into a few more stressful manuevers now that she knows the damage and repairs that were done on the craft, she actually puts it's nose to the grid (almost literally!) to make certain the thing is combat ready when such things come. She frowns a bit beneath her helmet, hearing those words. "You have, ultimately, lead us all through the most devestating war in human history. You have kept us all together, alive and operational. You instill loyalty like no CAG I've ever had. I'd sure as shite say that's worth a promotion and it's been rather long over due." She pauses a moment later and adds a quieter, respectful, "Sir."

Cidra didn't quite expect to hear that. Up tick her eyes from the electronic console read-outs to Quinn. Blink blink. Slight smile, if still a very rueful one. "I have good quality people. The rest is just a matter of faking it until you look as if you know what you are doing. Well. Baer is dead, and unmourned it seems, even by those who flew with him. McQueen…perhaps a worse error in judgment, he is gone as well. And now we must just deal with pieces as they fall."

Her thoughts on these dismal subjects she is, at least, still paying careful attention to Quinn's flying. "Your handling is good. You kept up with your sim sessions, I have seen, though it is…never the same. How does it feel?"

Quinn smirks a touch more towards Cidra…"I'm serious… you're good. Though I guess it doesn't mean much coming from the ex-SL who allowed herself to get knocked up like some teenage brat, losing her position, the respect of her once-squadron and now who no one really trusts to fly with. So… I guess I can see your point." She mutters quietly, since this seems to be negative soul baring time… Or perhaps she's further trying to prove her point to Cidra that things 'aren't so bad'. Who knows. She shrugs at the question of how it feels…"it feels… Fine. Comfortable. Perhaps a bit slower than I used to be, but the muscle memory is all there… 11 months didn't erase 20 years…fortunately."

"You are the best Raptor pilot in this Wing, Jugs," Cidra says simply. "If whose bed one - mistakenly - ended up in was enough to diminish how one flew…well, of late I would barely be able to leave the hangar deck without crashing." She lets out a soft "Heh." "But I am too sober to dwell on *that* particular story just now." A pause. "Let us have some fun, shall we? Set a course into the Belt. Run her through her paces around those asteroids. It is ever dull flying in circles."

Quinn shakes her head quietly to that first comment. "No… I don't think I ever was, I sure as shit am not any more. But I appreciate the flattery." She smirks a bit to herself and pulls the bird hard towards the belt, really trying to stress the body enough that they know she'll take the worst, sharpest combat manuevers and not crack apart mid-flight. And it's stressing her own skills as well, forcing her reaction times to scoop back up to par, at least, if not better. "Let's see what we can get… hopefully everyone was awake on the deck." And with that, she begins to weave through the asteroids, starting slower, but she tries to pick up speed fairly quickly.

As far as asteroid belt flying is concerned, the Ouranos Belt isn't /too/ rough going. The rocks that drift in space are large, their drift slowed to a creeping, endless orbit through the blackness of space. But it's still an area where one has to rely more on visuals and handling than instruments with the interference from the cosmic dust, and it does provide a few opportunities to play.

"I do not flatter," Cidra says simply. "Watch her portside in the turns. Let us see those repairs will hold together. DRADIS is getting finicky the farther we get in, so watch for those rocks coming up on your nose. You may see them before I do."

"I'd say we're both getting to the reading glasses age, but I've got my eyes peeled." Maggie mostly jokes. Mostly. Because glasses, honest to gods, are going to ground a pilot faster than almost anything and she knows it. She continues quickly weaving through the belt, not the stupid speed of a young, hot shot pilot. Maybe because she's lost that touch, maybe because she doesn't need to show off. Probably a bit of both. She takes a few harder turns, keeping the feel and monitoring for the portside. "So far, so good.."

"Depressing, is it not? This was to my last space tour, likely as, aboard the Cerberus. Well, it is now, but my thinking was rather less macabre when I took it. No idea what I would have done after that, honestly. I do not think I would have made Lieutenant Colonel had the worlds stayed whole." Cidra sounds like that would have been just fine with her. "You get past forty, you start counting the years you can still jock one of these things. I do not think I could have managed a transfer to Tactical. Perhaps I would have just gone back to Picon. Instruction full-time. Or…gods, no idea. Flown until they physically removed me from the cockpit, I suppose. There is never anything else I felt particularly right doing."

As she talks, Cidra checks her instruments, nodding shortly. "Her engine balance seems to be remaining steady. Deckhands know their work. She is flying like she was never dented."

Quinn shrugs gently, "At least you made it that far… And I do think it's deserved. I'll never think otherwise, no matter what you're saying. I…was always good. Damn good, but never good enough." And she frakked up the one thing she had by getting pregnant, but she doesn't actually voice that, she just sort of let it hang in the air. "But… the worlds are different now… or, well… almost non existant, and we're here. And yes… she's flyign just fine. I'd be comfortable taking her in on any combat mission…"

"I was never the best pilot in my Wing, even behind a Raptor," Cidra says. "I get along well enough, though. And it does feel very, very good." A satisfied nod at the Raptor's handling. "She has not lost a step much. Set a course back to Cerberus. We can get this bird, and yourself, back into the regular CAP rotation ASAP, I do think. Boots will slot you into the Harriers specific rotation. He is still on light duty for awhile yet. Keep an eye on him. See that he does not do anything overly foolish."

Quinn nods quietly to Cidra as she pulls a hard turn around, showing off -just- a bit, but she needed to know she could do it too. Other pilots might not trust her out there, but she has to be able to trust herself. "I will… I always do. And… that's fine. I'm ready to start CAP if…if you honestly think I won't be a distraction to other's flying out there. If my going back on the line is going to hurt the Harriers, Cidra, I want you to tell me no. I'll stay LSO and not worry anyone."

"Distraction." Cidra snorts. "You are being preposterous. Stop that, please. I require combat pilots on my flight line. We are still flying with half the complement this ship was built for, in a time of war, and all the Nuggets we churn out slow as molasses or defectors from the Areion we barely trust will not change that. You are no more a distraction than anyone else. Take her down, Captain."

Quinn comms over to the actual Battlestar for perimssion to land, and once she's given clearance, she does indeed begin to take the Raptor in for a landing. It's not the smoothest landing of her life, not by far… But then landing is often the hardest thing a pilot has to do, and it'll take a few more turns for her to get accustomed to that shift. "Alright then… I feel I'm ready, it seems you do to. I… look forward to getting my schedule."

"I do look forward to it as well. Now. Take care of the post-flight, and you are dismissed. Well-flown." And with that, once the Raptor is safely settled back down and the doors opened, off she goes.

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