PHD #126: Meeting of the Knights
Meeting of the Knights
Summary: Alessandra's first official act as Squadron Leader calls the Knights together for a brief meeting.
Date: 02 Jul 2041 AE
Related Logs: None
Cidra Alessandra Tisiphone Psyche NPC 
Ready Room
With the hatches at the rear of the room, the walkways on both sides slope down towards the dais at the front of the room. The stadium seating forms a partial semi-circle around the speaking podium and provides enough seats for all three hundred members of the Air Wing. The walls are adorned with the patches of each squadron aboard and their mottos stenciled in white lettering above each one. Behind the podium is a set of large LCD screens that can display any matter of material from reconnaissance to maps to gun camera footage.
Post-Holocaust Day: #126

The Ready Room doors open to admit one (1) LTJG Apostolos, tidy and trim in her duty blues. Her expression is neutral — or more accurately, carefully-shuttered — as she sweeps a glance around the room. She considers for only a few moments before detouring into one of the middle rows, heading for a distant corner. She plunks herself down, slouching deep into her seat, one booted foot up on the back of the seat in front of her.

Psyche wasn't on the ground for long on Leonis — just long enough to grab a plane and take to the sky — but the action, and particularly its losses, took its toll on her… as it has on many. Today, however, there are decided signs of recovery in her spirit — her new haircut is done in a riot of curls; her nails are painted a new shade of candy-apple red; and she's come ready to work, bearing one of her sparkle-covered notebooks and a pen topped with a pink feather pouf. Maybe she doesn't have quite the cocker spaniel enthusiasm of days gone by, but she's visibly more herself. "Hi, Tis," she greets, sitting a few seats away. And, to their newly-minted leader, "Duckie, sir."

Tisiphone greets Psyche with a silent up-nod of her chin, pale eyes lingering on the accoutrements her fellow pilot brought with her. "That's one frak of a pen," she mutters, giving a single snort of amusement.

Lieutenant Sophronia is currently standing at the front of the room, her form mostly hidden by the podium she has placed herself behind, her notes placed upon it neetly. She's momentarily distracted but the pilots start to arrive, it getting her to look up. Psyche and Money Shot are both given a quick nod hello but that's it for greetings for now. "We'll get started in a moment." Of course there are others who start to filter in as well, all taking which ever seat strikes their fancy.

"Third generation," Psyche explains to Tisiphone, holding the frou-frou writing implement up for a better view. "When the ink runs out, I salvage the feathery thing and hot-glue it onto a new pen. Since this is probably the last pink feathery pouf left in the universe. Unless the salvage team finds a stash." She tickles the feather beneath her chin, thoughtfully. "I'd be just as happy with a cache of cute plastic barrettes, though."

Cidra ghosts into the ready room. Her appearances at these squadron briefings aren't uncommon. She likes to keep a finger on the pulse of what's going on between her pilots. She takes a seat, in the back, leaving the proceedings to Alessandra. She's just there to take a load off.

"We ever end up stuck in Kythera again?" Tisiphone mutters, a little quieter than before, now that the meeting's shaping up to begin. "I know just the place to find 'em." Her teeth flash in a quick, blackly amused grin before she straightens up slightly from her slouch and looks forward.

Looking around, Allie notices Cidra and she too is given a nod, the Major also afforded a quick smile. Then, after one last glance around, she addresses the room as a whole. "If everyone's comfortable, we'll begin." Looking down, she takes a second to read a few notes and take a sip of coffee, the latter done to wet her dry throat. "I'd like to start by saying that I know this has not been an easy time for any of us; the transition from one commander to another is never easy and it is made all the more difficult when it has to take place during a situation like we have found ourselves in. I will do what I can to make everything go as smoothly as possible while leading the Knights and am here for everyone. Please keep that in mind. Ahem. Now, the point of this meeting is to let everyone know what is in the works as well as my expectations, both as individual pilots and as a squadron as a whole."

Psyche turns her bright-eyed and busy-tailed attention to Allie, flipping open her notebook and poising her poufy pen. She sits up straight and leans forward a bit, nodding slightly as the new SL speaks.

Cidra just listens, for her part. As always, it's not exactly easy to tell what the woman is thinking, but she does nod in the occasional place. The other Black Knights in attendance are likewise generally eyes-forward and mouths-closed for Alessandra. LTJG Linus "Grunt" Wilkerson is sitting in the front row, slouching in an attentive sort of way. A respectful slouch, if such things exist.

Tisiphone lost her note-taking fervour somewhere between the last briefing before Kythera and her return to the Cerberus, it seems; she has a clipboard with her, full of scribbled-upon pages, but it stays in the empty seat next to her. She digs out her rumpled pack of ciggies and starts distractedly tapping one out, watching Alessandra speak as she does.

Psyche's feathery pen moves over the surface of her notepad — the strokes are quick and sketchy, often tracing back over themselves. Enh… soooo she's probably not writing things down, verbatim. Whatever she's doing, though, she very frequently looks up front. She's present and engaged, polite and even encouraging in her attention.

"One thing I'd like to stress is the importance of keeping ourselves mentally and spiritually sound. I will not make it mandatory for anyone to seek counsel of any kind except for the most extreme of circumstances; it will be the responsibility for each of you to keep an eye on yourselves and if you feel like you're getting to the point of breaking, please come to me or find someone you can talk to. We have excellent religious and psychological services at our disposal as you all know. Please do not hesitate to use them. Also, if you notice someone seems to be struggling, offer help or let someone who might be able to help know so we can do what we can to lend aid." That small reminder over, Allie relaxes and can look back up, her gaze once again able to linger on faces and eyes. "I've been working on figuring out what kind of training we will be needing," she then announces, using that as a segway to the next topic she wants to touch upon.

Tisiphone's attention wavers, uneasily, as soon as Psychological Matters come up. She looks down to her pack of cigarettes, which she's been getting nowhere with for a while now, and finally sets to lighting a smoke up. She glances over toward Psyche as she exhales, and the smoke catches in her throat with a series of barking coughs. "Sorry, sorry," she mutters, slouching down a bit in her chair after her failure at Smoking 101.

Wilkerson sort of uncoil himself into a semi-upright position when Alessandra talks of counseling and training. Blinking in a more attentive manner than usual as well. It's the closest to real military bearing he ever shows, so they'd all best enjoy it while it lasts. Cidra, for her part, continues to listen. Posture quite straight, for her part.

Psyche chews her bottom lip and glances at Tisiphone's coughing fit, flashing an abashed grin. She sets down her pen for a moment, patting herself down for gum — but she pauses a moment to watch Wilkerson, the man's movement catching her eye. It's like art — how can she help it? Once the art break is over, she mindfully return her attention to Lucky, popping her gum into her mouth.

Alessandra knows that the latter subject is hit or miss so isn't surprised when Tisiphone and a few of the others begin to shift restlessly but she felt it had to be said and doesn't seem to feel too apologetic over the small amount of discomfort she visited upon people for having done so. "In light of our time spent on Leonis, I've written a message to the Marine's CO, asking her if we can restart the MOUT training we had started several months ago. I have yet to hear back from the Major but once I do and can schedule a time where we can work together with her people I will make an announcement. I will also be talking with Captain Sitka and arranging inter-squadron training between the Knights and the Petrels. It'll be an excellent way for us to all get used to how each other flies plus it'll be a good way for us to purge pent up stress." The mug is taken in hand but she doesn't drink from it yet, the El-Tee remembering to tack on a quickly spoken, "And of course we will be doing as much time in the sims as we possibly can," before taking that much needed sip.

Wilkerson notices Psyche noticing him. She gets a lazy smile. All while he keeps one eye on his SL. The man is talented in looking like he's paying attention. Whether he is or not is an open question, but he's managed to perfect the art of /seeming/ to.

MOUT training — 'the Moat Thing', as Tisiphone calls it. This perks her attention back up again, enough so that she straightens out of her slouch a little. "Hunh," she comments, more to herself than anything, at the mention of inter-squadron training. There might even be a faint nod, there, before she glances away to ash her cigarette toward the floor.

Psyche also looks interested at the mention of training with the marines, tilting her head like a curious bird. And her attention's right where it should be until — LTJG Gorgeous smiles at her. Woo! She blushes a little and sinks down in her chair, grinning stupidly. Once he's looking toward Lucky again, she fans herself and gives Tis a significant look.

"Outside of that, I really do not believe that I have left much unsaid. If anyone has any questions or suggestions, feel free to voice them now and then we'll have Lieutenant JG Apostolos, who has something she wishes to discuss with the squadron as a whole, come up." Breathe in…Allie slowly inhales and blows out the butterflies this entire speech-i-fying has put in her belly, those quick to disappear when she exhales just as deeply.

"Down, girl," Tisiphone mutters to Psyche, sotto voce, her crooked grin making her cigarette bob and sift ash down her jacket. The grin freezes for a second when her name's called, eyes flicking back toward the podium. A heartbeat or two crawls by while she sits there, hesitating and rather uncomfortable, before she grabs her clipboard and stalks determinedly toward the front of the room.
Long distance to Byrne: Alessandra will have to nab it later.

Cidra gives a little nod again at the end of all that. Watching Tisiphone with a measure of curiosity now. She's brought no notepad or anything of the sort. So she just continues to sit.

Wilkerson, for his part, blinks when Tisiphone is called up. Smiling lazily at her, too. It's what he does.

Psyche gives Lucky two thumbs up as the new SL steps down, flashing an encouraging smile. She wriggles herself back into an upright and attentive posture as Tisiphone steps to the podium, turning quickly to a blank sheet in her notebook.

Money Shot is given a nod on the way past, Allie picking a place to sit somewhere in the middle. Relief falls upon her features as she is able to relax, her attention solely on the younger pilot as she prepares to speak.

"Uh." Tisiphone eyes her clipboard for a few seconds, as if the math scribbled there will suddenly turn to inspiration. She puffs awkwardly on her cigarette, nearly coughs again as she looks out across the room and sees far too many pairs of eyes actually waiting on her, then bullies herself onward. "So, uh. Bootstrap's got Flasher and I working on updating the sims. So it's not, uh. Fourty year-old cra-" Whoa, there. "-uh, stuff we're flying against. He's working on the code right now, but next step is gun camera footage from all of us. If any of you can remember any specific dogfights you want us to check, just let Flasher or I know. Otherwise we'll end up with Raiders flying like…" It's at about this point that her restless gaze spots the CAG there at the back, and that oh, FRAK expression crawls onto her face. "…Raptors," she finishes weakly. "That's, uh. That's it."

Psyche behaves herself beautifully, giving Tisiphone her full attention. She nods as she listens…. she even writes a note (involving words, this time). Send her to the head of the class! (Preferably next to Wilkerson, pls thx.)

Alessandra clears her throat before making a polite suggestion. "I think that revisiting some of the fights where we got our asses handed to us might might be a good idea. I can't recall any specific dates off hand but I'll look into that and get it to you soon." Hands settling upon her thighs, Allie nods to Tisiphone to encourage her, giving her a faint smile as well.

"The, uh. Yeah." Tisiphone fidgets, shoulders hunching a bit as she nods to Alessandra. "All of the Leonis footage, too." Her pale stare flicks toward Psyche as she says that. "But that's- that's all I had. I'll pull interesting footage that I remember, but the more you guys recommend, the better. Uh. Thanks." Again she freezes for a second — should I stay or should I go? — before grabbing up her clipboard again and beating a hasty retreat for her seat.

Cidra nods again to herself. As if making a little note in her head. Still nothing from her. She listens. She waits.

Psyche smiles at Tisiphone as she returns, giving her a thumbs-up, as well. Mission accomplished. She cracks her gum, blowing a small bubble as she looks back down at her notebook, scribbling a thought or two.

"Thank you, Money Shot. Does anyone else have anything to bring up? If not, I think we can call this meeting done and over with." Allie's seated posture straightens some but she doesn't stand yet, giving anyone who might have something to talk about the chance to do so before rising.

Tisiphone slinks wordlessly back to her seat, dropping down into it a little heavily before returning to her earlier don't-notice-me slouch. At least she's remembered how to smoke — she takes a deep drag off her ciggie and blows it out at her feet.

Psyche glances around, curiously, to see if there are any likely looking volunteers for further speeches. For her own part, however, she's silent.

Wilkerson has no questions. He's a silent type.

Alessandra nods. "Alright then, Knights. Dismissed." Now she gets up and moves out into the aisle, her left hand shoved in the pocket of her pants and her notes are retrieved from the podium, those put in her opposite pocket. Those here are watched, they allowed to go first, the SL seeming to have a 'first in, last out' policy set for herself.

Cidra stands and strides away from her seat, but does not immediately exit. Tisiphone is approached.

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