"Cocky Jock"

[STSF Jumper 0]

There was a brief light shuffle as the pilots and crew looked among themselves or gathered their PADDs for the expected dismissal. The rustle quieted as one blue hand lifted into the air. Kallah nodded for the new Gwen pilot to speak. In a thick Andorian accent, "Commander, what tiz that craft in zector 331? I had difficultiez in targetting around them."

 

Ramson smiled though her eyes spoke of other emotions...and any telepath in the room was getting the whole story. "Oh, one of our shuttles got themselves a little out of position. With experience you'll be able to identify friendly craft quicker. And as we all work and train together we will be able to see and expect each others actions. As we perfect that teamwork we will be ready for any and all tasked layed out before us." She still smiled and her eyes and overall mood softened as well.

 

“ … Your ego is writing checks your body can't cash.” - Cmdr. Tom 'Stinger' Jordan, Top Gun (1986)

 

Ensign Honor-Scar sat quietly in the back of the pilot ready room, taking notes on her personal data padd regarding the Saylek Maneuver that the Beta squad had performed during the dust up between the 310th and the Cultist raiding party. Lieutenant Commander Ramson was currently speaking and reviewing the general performance of all the flight crews and squads, and the tawny furred Caitian support pilot had her full attention on the blond haired humanoid CAG.

 

Then, that new Andorian bomber pilot – and really, out of all the hell raising and balls to the wall and fire and brimstone that was raining across the black during the engagement, the blue blood just has to ask about the shuttle that was messing with his firing solution, putting aside all the other vehicles that were zipping around as well as the asteroids? Oh well, at least he hadn’t fired a shot and taken the shuttle out - asked his question when Ramson opened the floor for some feedback, and Jumper did a mental back track to focus her full attention on what was going on.

 

Her swiveling ears went to a full forward attention, but her sharp yellow eyes remained looking down at a point on the decking. The feline pilot knew exactly who said shuttle pilot was, considering that it had been her that had gotten “a little out of position.” It hadn’t been exactly gratifying to see her shuttle on the tactical display during a dissection of one of the battles various skirmishes, but she had gotten a chuckle out of seeing her Shuttle 411 zip this way and that as she had at first hightailed it after the Cult raider and then jigged in another direction to go and locate that downed pilots transponder signal.

 

Circumstances aside, the junior support jump jock had done her job on the search and rescue clean up detail, and if there was some fancy flying to be done along the way, then so be it.

 

Only when the CAG had given her rather diplomatic answer did the Caitian allow her gaze to travel back to the forward area of the room and a small smile to play at the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t a sarcastic smile, it was just the smile of a junior pilot officer who was very young and still thought that they knew it all.

 

On the logical side of the equation, Honor-Scar was no fool, and would implement the advice and tactics discussed here today during the pilot debriefing and adjust her tactics for future engagements. But, hey – if there was a tactical opportunity that presented itself out there on the battlefield, she’d take it. You had to learn when to go by the book and when to live outside the box.

 

Again though … Jumper Honor-Scar was young, and had not yet made that important distinction between the two courses of action.

 

Once the pilots had been dismissed from the post engagement debriefing, she exited along with the others: her gait cocky, her tail held high, and a swagger to her step, ready to take on the world.