M Valkyrie Flight - [EP0] Horseshoes and Walking Hand Grenades

Episode 0 - Horseshoes and Walking Hand Grenades​

​

Medusa Expanse, NDC Shard
Sanctuary Star System, Sirris II moon named "Vaigrif"​

NDV Archon moored at lunar naval port of "Helms Depth", 1200 OST​

For the last several hours, the flight decks had been a cascade of busy activity, as personnel scurried around to get everything in place. The ship had finished its latest retrofit, and overhaul, renewing the next cycle of its already storied career of service. The newer craft were brought aboard, the older models of fighters finally having been replaced for sale, and/or mothballing. Such equipment with many others, would likely be stockpiled then shipped out to one of the colonies as a gift, in an effort to reduce their needed expenditure in equipment. Engineers and deck crew unpacked trolleys and crates of supplies, tools placed in their stations and kits, as well munitions being squirreled away to their reinforced compartments for storage. As everything was put in its place, the captain of the vessel toured the decks, officially on inspection but merely watching over the progress as their crew did their jobs. As the activity began to ebb, a deck chief would approach before offering a data slate to the captain to look over.

Captain Eskarra's eyes seem to dart over the list, the Geist in her neck scrolling it as she did, "Everything looks in order, I want us underway within an hour". The device was handed back before the deck chief scampered off to finish preparations, and her aide decomp made a note on their own pad. "I see those language programs I loaned you last summer came in well, you can read Hassani quite fluently now. Shall I rally the jockeys, or should we leave them standing on the dock just a wee bit longer?", came the question of the aid decomp, a small smirk at first before back to business as usual.

Eskarra pulled a rather antique pocket watch from the coat of her uniform, the soft ticks following in time with subtle motions of the dials that were formatted in Sirrisian time measurements. A long thoughtful moment passed as she stared at its face before answering, "Give them twenty more minutes as per your traditions, I'll be heading back to the bridge." With their answer given, the lid was snap shut and the watch returned to its pocket before the captain began to head off. With a departing bow from the aid de comp, they began a lazy walk to finally rally the non-essential crew compliment awaiting the start of the ship's cycle.

---------- Out On The Docks -----------

The Archon was mounted in its mooring before the organized rows of non-essential crew, gantries and autonomous rails with servoed tool arms doing final touch ups on the hull. The older model of ship surprising some by still being in service, while some of those waiting at attention as per tradition, speculated amongst themselves just how old the ship was. All were organized in their duty groups, at attention for what had been the better part of half an hour now, save for one specific canine mod who only returned to stance if they start to catch an officer turning their way. But most held to the tradition, with only a minimum amount of bitching.

Seara Tasvanni, was not one of those, as she occasionally grunted from being forced to stand here in a row like a bunch of jackass toy soldiers. Departure was set for just after noon, yet they had been mustered early in the morning, some like herself having to catch a flight up from the capital just to get there. Then spend several hours with paperwork to get their personal effects aboard, quarters allotted, and any issued items vended to them for this duty tour. With a sigh, the blonde lowered her salute when she was sure no officers were looking, and adjusted her dress blacks for the tenth time given they still needed some tailoring. "Oh for gods sakes, they still haven't replaced the zipper Kat, and most of our pilots don't even have patches yet. Who the hell are we supposed to know are in this new flight?", she grumbled, considerably more audibly before returning to her saluted stance in defeat.

Among the rows of non-essential crew gathered beneath the looming hull of the NDV Archon, one figure made no effort to hide her disdain for the ceremony. Kess Dravanti, callsign Redline, stood somewhere near the middle of the third flight cluster...though "stood" was generous. Her collar was popped wide open, exposing a black a cut undershirt beneath the regulation coat, and her hands hung loose at her sides, flexing idly like she was sizing up a fight. She shifted weight onto one hip, boot scuffing the deck with a dull grind. The smirk on her face was more of a warning than a greeting to anyone nearby. She hadn’t so much as attempted a proper salute since docking. She only straightened up when a shadow passed too close..a passing officer or someone dumb enough to care..before relaxing again with a barely-concealed scoff. “Thirty minutes of standing here like decorative ballast and they wonder why people steal ships,” Kess muttered, voice sharp and flat, meant to carry. She tugged at the corner of her flight jacket, then added louder, “I swear, the longer they keep this parade going, the more I'm gonna start naming bolts on this hull just to keep from losing it.” She cocked her head to glance over at Seara Tasvanni, eyeing the woman’s fidgeting with a half-laugh. “No zippers, no patches, no objective . Real cohesive unit we got here, huh?” A beat passed. “Bet half these rooks couldn’t fly a coaster through the mess, let alone hold formation without a script.” Kess stretched her neck lazily, spine cracking in a way that was probably audible to her rowmates. “First op out of dock, I’m betting two to one someone loses their payload before we even clear Vaigrif orbit. Hope you didn’t unpack too heavy.” Someone two ranks down hissed a caution at her, but Kess didn’t even flinch. Her gaze stayed on the Archon’s hull, eyes scanning it not with reverence, but with the bored predatory interest of someone already planning how to get off it again..fast, loud, and screaming through the black.

Of those in the formation, most seemed pretty normal for the Hassani population. Then you had the one tall draconic lady right in the middle of it. She was standing fairly still, almost like a statue actually. Everyone around her were certain she was being super prim and proper. It would actually take someone stumbling over her tail to cause her to jerk suddenly. "Huh?! What? Oh... We're still in formation..." She muttered, apparently having been woken up by the fact her tail had been bumped. If anything, she sounded disappointed by the whole result. "Stars, I really can't wait for us to be done with this..." She grumbled, and shifted on her feet, getting comfortable once more. She knew she was going to be bored for this whole damned tour. It wasn't like she could have her kind of fun for the whole six months considering the rules against fraternization. Oh Stars, was she going to go into a heat phase during the summer months? Or would the ship's carefully controlled climate prevent that?

Next to the gigantic dragon-lady, at a respectable distance for escaping random swipes of that tail, stood someone a whole two heads shorter. At a whopping 5'4", a certain blue-eyed joystick-jockey was busy totally not sizing up the people around her. She was leisurely sipping from a canteen, and snickered at the others. "No clue why ya bother standing stiff, when there have been no explicit orders to do so." she spoke in a voice loud enough to carry to the ones closest, but with a softness that would hide it from further away. Her patch read Shafte. R. and though her uniform was crisp and fresh, there were if anyone was trained to spot such things; optional additions to her kit that though technically not against regulations, would need some explanation if called out on. Such as a karambit-handle here or there. She carried herself with swaggering confidence, combined with a strangely rapid energy as whenever she did move, it was in a fluid, or rapid motion as if her body was a coiled steel spring and that any transition-phase between actions was a personal affront to her... that, or like a squirrel on stims.
Rosa just hoped that if this ship had no men, as far as she could see, that at least the fraternization-rules could have some leeway. half a year was a long time to build frustrations.

Arye stood there, silently and straight in formation. A benefit of being an operator, specifically an Android, is that she can stand for hours without need to rest. However, unlike the Dragon-like Vaigarin, Arye Firewalker was thinking of something else. “please let me pilot a Starbreaker, please let me pilot a Starbreaker’ she mumbled to herself. A Starbreaker was a type of fighter starship, that was a AI fighter, at her last ship NDV Ravenaca's Watch, she got to sit in a pod and she’d be transported to her Starbreaker.

It was a good thing horses could lock their knees to stay upright even while sleeping, something that whoever had uplifted Katja Tasvanni and her sister had kept in the process. One of the few things the Genemod was thankful for, as that particular ability had proven quite useful in her career, especially moments like this when formations ran on for who knew how long.

While she wasn’t asleep now, Equus knew she’d done that in the past. The six foot three mare glanced around the hanger again, the view mostly taken by the NDV Archon obviously, but her striking blue eyes focused on the gathered crew around her. She was one of the taller of gathered enlisted, though she caught sight of a Vaigarin amongst the others, clearly standing head and shoulders above them all.

The scattered mumbling Kat’s astute hearing picked up echoed the sentiment felt by many of the gathered crew, herself included. What in all the hells were they still sitting out here for? Her ears flicked back as her partner voiced her complaints.

“Looks like they’re going to make us play the game of “find out for yourselves”…” she started, looking toward her wife, a grin splitting her white haired muzzle.

“…As for the zipper, well good! It being harder to get out of is a good thing for you, Ce!” Kat teased.

"Oh shut it Kat, I haven't had my formals adjusted since my last pregnancy. Guess I'm just lucky that the last one went to my hips instead of my chest again, these jackets are already uncomfortable as is," Seara grumbled back, perhaps being a bit cranky from the attire struggle on top of standing around for the better part of an hour. The blonde human wished she had some of the neat tricks of other species for annoying traditions like this. She bet that massive Vaigarin lady somewhere behind them was propped up on her tail, lucky lizard. She had been more physically involved in her own gripes, then audibly spreading them like the pitbull standing next to the blue haired woman with too many knives for her liking, and the strange operator chanting about a drone. "For the love of the weave, can we f-," she began to bitch, but was cut off by the announcement horn of the PA system. "They can shove it with that timing," she grumbled.


"To all non-essentials, the salute of distant harbors is now finished. The XO will be along to announce boarding, wait for your company commanders to announce rest, then you may board. Archon will be away within the next thirty minutes. That is all." The voice blared over the speakers, a collective sigh of release from the amassed personnel seeming to be released at the news. One by one, the company commanders began to give the order of at ease, before even letting them shuffle out of formation. As the commanders lined up on the ramp, the proffered XO arrived from inside the awaiting airlock to release them from the purgatory of the docks.

The second in command of the Archon herself, said nothing as they eyed the shuffling mass, before making a brisk and sharp gesture to the row of commanders. The small line looked amongst themselves, as if measuring unseen straws, and all eyes falling on the last of said commanders in the line. With a visible huff that maybe few would have heard, retraced several paces back down the large boarding ramp, before giving a call for attention, assisted by patching his voice in through the previous speakers. "All personnel, commence boarding!", the order was declared in almost a tone of cadence.


"How long do you think I can go die in our bunk before they drag us to some new bullshit?," Seara asked the equine genemod, a desperately hopeful expression on her face. She just wanted to get off her feet and face plant into the covers for a bit at the very least, as the crowd began to start flowing aboard. If this had been a flight, and not a ship posting, the crowded boarding with carry on luggage would have made the whole ordeal another kind of hell. At least she could strip out of this monkey cheerleader getup soon enough.

As soon as the call to board echoed through the PA, Kess let out an exaggerated groan of relief, rolling her shoulders and cracking her knuckles. "Finally. Another minute and I'd have started a betting pool on who drops first. My money was on blondie," she teased, nodding toward Seara with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying the other woman's misery a little too much. She straightened up, adjusting the jacket just enough to pretend compliance, but not enough to genuinely care, making no attempt to hide the open irritation in her voice. "At least they haven't chained us to the flight sticks yet. Ten creds says we're scrambled for a 'routine' drill before dinner." Turning briefly to face Shafte, Kess eyed the shorter woman’s subtly concealed karambits with a raised eyebrow and approving grin. "Nice accessories. I hope they're not just for show; the first barfight on station leave better be memorable." She sauntered toward the ramp, stepping deliberately slow enough to irritate anyone behind her, before glancing back over her shoulder at the others, eyes glinting with challenge. "Well, rookies, let’s see how long we last before command realizes they just packed live ammo into a powder keg." With a final stretch and a lazy salute aimed somewhere generally upward rather than at anyone specifically, Kess swaggered aboard the Archon, clearly prepared to make the next six months of everyone’s lives memorable...one way or another.

Rosa snorted. "If they clear leather, it will certainly be." before nimbly hooking her canteen onto her webbing and shifting it back. "Will be counting on ya to guard my back when that time comes." she'd nod, and fall in with the movers and shakers. Her pack was... surprisingly large, or perhaps it just looked that way with how small she was? That was at least the intention she'd had with her bodylanguage, though in reality; all in the know would know to come to her when needing to supplement anything they lacked, kit, gear or recreationally. She'd already been in touch with the official and unofficial supply-chains and cleared that her side-business would continue as it had in previous postings...
The joy of being the one who knew how to procure things was; Most who could punish you knew, but as long as you didn't give them any reason not to, would look the other way~ Heck, if she wasn't such a deft jockey, she'd be chained to a quartermaster's desk two rotations ago.

For now though, she headed into the ship, intent on stashing what needed stashing, and doing some quick ablutions before the undoubtedly incoming "surprise" sortie.
"Time to find out what kind of tour this will be~"

And finally, they were boarding the ship. And so Gale straightened up, not to be haughty or be proper, but rather to relax her muscles after having been stiff for so long. She listened to what the others were saying, but considering she was still technically a rookie in most folks eyes, despite her rank and prestige in being the wife to one of the crown princes, she figured better to keep her mouth shut right now and get a sense of what she was going to be dealing with from her fellow pilots. So far, it seemed not that much different from the Academy's flight school, though some were more, uhhh, vocal or visual with their displeasure and disgruntlement. She was also pretty sure some of the crew were giving her a side-eye not in lust but rather envy considering her Mithral was configured with some 'extras' instead of the default pure military wear style. She was still fully in uniform, she just happened to have panels that were sheer and had a bit of a lace filigree to them, giving hints at her figure under the suit. Of course, she had to be extra careful of her wings and tail as she boarded the ship, since, well, she was taking up extra room with them.

Arye continued to have her hopeful desires of piloting a Starbreaker, but she knew that chances were perhaps slim she might not but she could hope afterall. Though the Operator, decided she should refocus, on getting on board, and making friends here. At the order, she began moving towards the ship, and as she did, she looked around, her eyes catching the sight of some of her crew. “hey, whats up? I’m Arye, Arye Firewalker” she said to them primarily, Gale, or Seara if they happened to be near by.

“I told you to get that done after the last time, Ce. You complained to me first about the fit!” Katja replied, and she was about to say more when the announcement came over the P.A.

“Thank Equus, about time we stopped standing around…” she said, unlocking her knees and turning her head slightly, working out a kink in her neck.

“You got me, love” Kat replied to Seara’s question, as the pair made their way toward the cruiser. “We’re not the departure flight, they’re already airborne, lucky bastards didn’t have to stand through this. Hopefully, a few hours at least.” She finished, trying not to laugh at her wife’s expression.

Inside the ship...
The corridors and bulkheads were clean, clearly refurbished heavily despite the ship's age, the interior more up to date then the hull itself. As the crew entered, those who had been laboring were already on break, or at their stations for leaving dock. "All non-essentials, starting now, you have an eight hour rest period. Drink rations in the commissary will be free for the next two hours. Rest and prepare for the tour ahead, by order of the captain," came the familiar authoritative voice over the PA system. All of them had been given their ticket listing their assigned quarters for this stationing, as well as the listing of their commissary balances.


Seara simply rolled her eyes at the mare's jest, "I can't help you keep going to my hips, your thi-." The blonde had begun as they entered, before the pair was greeted by the Operator, a little thrown off by the sudden introduction. At least it wasn't the troublemaker, "Oh uh hi Arye, well my begrudging respect for PT for one. Your spirits definitely, wish I had that sort of positivity on tap. Seara and this is my wife Katja." She pointed a thumb to the equine genemod beside her, making sure they didn't lag too much among the throng heading in. All the while this little interaction was happening, Seara thought to the announcement, fighting with herself about finding their bunk and crashing or cashing in on free drinks.