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STSF Jumper

"Blood Is Thicker"

Note: this log is set a few hours into the twenty four hour TBS.

 

Reference Note: Boonie Jumper: the term originates from and is copyrighted by the Re-Imagined Battlestar Galactica TV series episode “Act of Contrition”. Boonie jumpers are former drug runners (specifically Louanne “Kat” Katraine and Donald “Chuckles” Perry) who had some piloting experience and were chosen to train as pilots and fill in the ranks after a devastating accident that killed twelve senior Galactica pilots.

 

03.17.09

USS Excalibur NCC-81762

“Blood is Thicker”

 

Planet: Class M

Preliminary Flight Patrol Run, Lower Atmosphere

 

The Excalibur had been in orbit above the planet simply known simply as “Class M” for a few hours now, and so far, things had been going well. Flight patrols had been sent out to keep a general eye on things and to record data readings before the marine recon team was sent down to investigate the area further; the sensor scans were relayed to the sciences department so the geeks could do their thing and check out the digital topography of the planetary hemispheres.

 

Once the preliminary flight patrols and marine ground recon teams cleared the port and city, there would be staggered shore parties cleared as well as “scavenger parties” deployed to scare up whatever supplies could be found within the semi-dilapidated and abandoned space port city that called the planet home. The space port was the only thing currently calling the area home, due to the fact that the planet showed absolutely no signs of life, either current or past inhabitants.

 

Ensign Jagrissa “Jumper” Honor-Scar had been on the flight roster and summarily deployed on this particular launch of the patrol missions; she flew her Search and Rescue shuttle along with one fast attack Lancelot fighter and one recon Gweneviere heavy bomber. The Lancelot pilot flew lead point with the Gwen pilot maintaining the middle spot and taking most of the recon scan data shots and relaying them to the departments on the Excalibur.

 

Jumper brought up the rear in the SAR and was along ‘just in case’ something went wrong with the other two patrol craft and then she’d swoop in and do her thing if she were needed. It wasn’t the pell mell pace of combat duty no, but the planetary patrol grid assignment got her off the ship and out into the black – or at least into the atmo.

 

What had been a surprise to her was when Commander MVess “Left Ear” JoNs had come strolling across the flight deck, completely outfitted in a black flight jumpsuit and carrying her helmet, to inform Jumper and the other three pilots (one for the Lance, one for the Gwen, and an electronics countermeasures officer/gunner for the Gwen) that she’d be riding shotgun on the patrol run in the SAR shuttle.

 

Honor-Scar had been surprised at the unscheduled “passenger” but she rolled with the punches considering that it was JoNs’s prerogative as the ships executive officer; the patrol flight and shotgun passenger had been cleared with CAG Ramson per the final flight launch orders, and in JoNs’s words, she wanted to “get a view of the planet that the ships scanners can’t give me”.

 

Jumper couldn’t argue with that logic, even though it was a bit strange to have the sometimes estranged cousins together and along for the same ride. It was bound to happen at some point though, what with Honor-Scar assigned to the command ship that JoNs overlooked as the ships executive officer.

 

Jagrissa and MVess were definitely two polar opposites; one could best be described as a wild ass cowgirl pilot that haunted the lower decks, and the other was a stiff backed by the book command track officer who was responsible for one captain and hundreds of crewmembers, let alone the responsibility factor.

 

And stiff backed was a really appropriate term too. Jumper spared a glance at her distant blood cousin while the Ex Oh was preoccupied speaking over the wireless communications with the lead Lancelot patrol pilot; JoNs sat all stiff in the co-pilots seat, obviously favoring her back, and there was a small tell tale bulge showing under the black uniform jacket of what Jumper assumed was some sort of soothing medicinal pack affixed to her lower back.

 

The younger Caitian pilot knew that the lower decks rumors had already spread about the secondary command officer’s back issues. What wasn’t common knowledge among the crew was that the issue stemmed from a hover cycle accident when MVess was about seventeen or so. While out on a riding jaunt with her elder brother, she wiped out on the cycle, smacked into the dirt rather harshly and wrenched her back in the process. It wasn’t a debilitating injury (at least not yet) but if the elder Cait didn’t do something about the command tension that obviously flared her lower back up, the issue would grow into a bigger problem and concern.

 

Domesticated felines in general were touchy feely with one another: a paw swat, a head rub, or general rubs or sniffing when greeting one another. That really didn’t change with the bigger ones such as Caitians or the Kzinti, and these actions were just more subtle and befitting to an evolutionary felinoid race.

 

So, Jumper calmly waited until the commander was done with the communications call, and keeping her left paw on the control panel, she casually reached her left paw over and gripped JoNs’s upper arm to get her attention, giving her a little shake. “Y’know, if you don’t take care of that, you’re going to be walking with implanted muscular servos, a cane, or worse.”

 

MVess was a bit surprised at the bold statement, let alone the touchy feely, and glanced at her tawny furred cousin. Then she just turned her attention back to her own pilot console and checked a reading while she answered, “That’s none of your concern Ensign.”

 

“Well, no offense Commander, really, but what’s going to happen if you’re in the middle of some sort of mission or combat situation and get hit with the pain or spasms or something?”

 

Left Ear went to hotly retort, turned towards Jumper, and then abruptly clamped her mouth shut when a minor spasm hit her lower back in response to her increased adrenaline and tension from her cousin’s statement. She winced and kept her paws gripped on her alternate control console in an effort not to rub her back.

 

“See? I rest my case. C’mon ‘Vess, we need to drop the rank. It’s just you and me here. Talk to me. What sorts of tension relieving activities do you have? Knowing you, I know it’s probably not sex, but anyway … “

 

“Still the same old smart ass boonie jumper.”

 

“Yeah, but a smart ass boonie jumper - and reformed, thank you very much - who wants to help.”

 

Jumper banked the shuttle to parallel the Gwen pilot, who had veered the big recon bird per the wing leads own course adjustment to avoid a spate of mountains looming in the distance.

 

An idea occurred to the feline pilot then, and she glanced at the unsuspecting ships Ex Oh with a sly smile. Moving her paws quickly over her main pilots control console, she shunted all of the primary shuttle control functions over to the co-pilot console with no warning.

 

“Yo Jonsey! All shuttle control functions are now yours. You’re on the deck. Take the ball and run with it!”

 

JoNs looked at Honor-Scar as if she had gone stark raving loony type birds. “What the frag are you …. Oh son of a … “ She shut up as the shuttle started to veer sideways off course and quickly implemented some course corrections and started to pilot the shuttle – not that she had a choice.

 

The brown furred Ex Oh flattened her ears as her surprise dissipated and was replaced with anger. “Ensign, take back the controls now, this is an order. We’re related; I can put this bird on the auto pilot program and kick your aft burner.”

 

“Order denied Commander! Woo! Just fly the bird. What? Afraid you can’t handle a Search and Rescue shuttle? Just do what you do Left Ear; although, it might be a good idea to check in with the others and inform them of the change. You’ve been away from piloting for too long! Standard operating procedures girl, get it in gear.”

 

JoNs looked away from the forward view port window of the cockpit long enough to fix Jumper with a deadly stare through the clear faceplate of her flight helmet.

 

“I’m glad you don’t have that ‘melt flesh off bones’ mental kinetic eyesight power or whatsit. Now, it’s a good idea to put your eyes back on the road and the proximity grid console, and again, comm the lead Lancelot and the Gwen, Commander; you know they need to be told about the change in the op parameters.”

 

Jumper gave a jaunty salute, touching her paw to her forehead. “Forward ho sir!”

 

“Remember, I know what billet you sleep in and have access to engineers who have access to the environmental controls ….”

 

The brown furred panther turned back to her control console and jabbed at the button tab inset that would access the ship to ship wireless that connected the SAR shuttle with the Lancelot fighter and the Gwen recon bomber. The wireless control chip embedded in her helmet immediately accessed the pre-programmed signal and connected her to the other pilot officers.

 

“ … Lancelot 23 and Gwen 45, this is SAR 411 Tango. Left Ear has the ball, repeat, Left Ear now has the ball and requests confirmation.”

 

Immediately, probably after the initial wave of shock had passed, the other pilots flying the patrol formation run answered over the wireless comms.

 

“This is lead Lancelot 23, SAR 411, of course your confirmation is received. Welcome on the ball Left Ear.”

 

“Oh ho, we got the Ex Oh! This is Recon Gwen 45, confirming as well, and welcome to the party sir. Think you can keep up with us Ex Oh?”

 

The typical gobbledygook pilot frack talk sounded … really good to her pointed ears. With a feral grin that highlighted all of her fangs, Left Ear toggled the control to reply through the helmet wireless.

 

“Lance 23 and Gwen 45, SAR 411. Question is, can you two keep up with me. Make a hole gentlemen. Four One One coming through and moving up to take the lead point position, inbound and down.”

 

Left Ear continued to pilot the SAR shuttle for the remainder of the planetary patrol run, with Jumper taking over permanent as the co-pilot. The younger Cait could see the tension leave the slightly older feline as the ships Ex Oh went through the motions of piloting, checking and re-adjusting the course vector, confirming orders and directives with the other pilots over the wireless, and the general control techniques and steps that insured a safe patrol flight.

 

“Alright gents and lady, let’s head back to the ship. Standard return vector and Left Ear lobs the ball out of play. Lancelot 23 has the lead ball, Recon 45 has the midway position, SAR 411 brings up the rear drag. On my mark. Mark.”

 

Honor-Scar kept looking at JoNs with a silly little smirk plastered across her muzzle; her light green eyes danced with mirth, and she very much resembled much younger cousin that they both shared along the bloodline who frequently got that same look of happy and contented mischievousness. It didn’t help that they both shared the common lion genetic - unlike Left Ear, who sported the uncommon panther genetics - of the Caitian people, although Honor-Scar was a bit taller and resembled her deceased mother.

 

“Can I help you Ensign Honor-Scar?”

 

“Feel any better Commander JoNs?”

 

“Actually … yeah. I do.”

 

“Good. Aside from any medical advice that I’m sure you’ve gotten and ignored, I suggest you grab yourself some holo-piloting programs and participate in one of ‘em every week on your down time. I can’t tell you how obvious it was when all that tension bled out of you after you started flying this bird. Or maybe talk with the head honcho pilot about taking part in these patrol flight runs when an opportunity to do it is there.”

 

“Jagrissa Honor-Scar. Roving Psychologist.”

 

“MVess JoNs. Needs a firm kick at times. Stoic isn’t always better.”

 

“Look, you sure have a medical reason to keep up with some kind of piloting, just from the back tension release standpoint, right? And not to push the issue, but I’m still trying to figure out why you jumped ship from piloting into the security and senior command postings. I know you’re good at what you do, but fact is you were a way better pilot. And now, what do you have to show for the command postings? Back problems that practically sideline you when the tension from your job hits? Anyway, I ain’t your mother, and I’ll send you my bill.”

 

A short silence passed, but it was a companionable silence usually shared by comrades that had served for decades together or relatives that had grown up off and on in each other’s company.

 

JoNs finally spoke, shattering through the quiet. “Thanks Jagrissa.” The brown furred panther Cait was still intent on piloting the shuttle and did not spare a glance at the younger tawny furred leonine Cait, but her low and even tone conveyed a genuine appreciation for the effort the younger officer had made.

 

Jumper merely smiled and quickly clapped the senior officer on the shoulder in a familial gesture that was appropriate within the private confines of the craft that they shared.

 

The three auxiliary patrol ships began to simultaneously jockey for positions in order to form up as Left Ear had instructed for the return run to Excalibur. Once she was clear from the other birds and about to bank her own shuttle into the re-formation, she spared a quick glance to her tawny furred cousin.

 

“Oh and Jumper? Regarding your little surprise earlier with winging the controls off to me on the fly? Payback is a bitch.”

 

A rare and maniacal light lit the bright green eyes of JoNs, and she hauled tail to put the SAR shuttle into an twisted delicious inverted vector loop that put the inertial deflectors (protesting) to the test as well as Honor-Scars unsuspecting stomach (must not snarf in helmet).

 

Ex Oh Pantha Kat still haz mad pilot skillz.

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