What It Means Half The Pilot (Part 1)

[Crash Calestorm 0]

The following log takes place immediately following the events of the 03.18.13 Sim…

 

Ensign William ‘Husker’ Adama> “Excuse me, Captain Tornvald…Sir? I just wanted to say I’ve been following your record since you first joined the squadron. Someday I hope to be half the pilot you are.”

 

Captain Deke ‘Minute Man’ Tornvald> “I’ll let you in on a little secret Kid. It’s bullsh*t, all of it.”

- Battlestar Galactica: Blood and Chrome (2013)

 

= = = =

Crash Calestorm wasn’t registered as a line combat pilot anymore. She was cleared for patrol, reconnaissance, courier hops and troop transport. If there was a situation that necessitated a heightened state of alert she more often than not paired up as wingman with another pilot and allowed that vacuum rider to take the lead in the field.

 

Could she still hold her own in a skirmish? Hell yes. Many a junior pilot had cut their teeth on the skirmishes of the Orion Cartel Wars and the Jericho Colony Incident just as Crash had and the trials by fire wasn’t something easily forgotten.

 

She was a now the CO of a starship and most of her official biographical information was available. The Academy kids read up on her - and other commanders and captains that CO’d and XO’d the active ships of the Starfleet - and as a result got all sorts of romantic ideas in their heads about serving in the Starfleet and going to ‘strange new worlds’. Not that that wasn’t the truth since Starfleet did plenty of exploring, but there was also the real truth.

 

Not many asked her about her vacuum rider years, but maybe…every few personnel rotation cycles or so? A bright eyed starfighter pilot or shuttle jockey asked her “What was the Cartel War like” or “I’ve studied your assignments from the ‘insert name here’ campaign and wanted to let you know I joined up because of pilots like you”.

 

Pilots like her? And what exactly did it mean to be a pilot like her? And how do you tell someone that the so called romance of grabbing that next kill shot isn’t all it’s cracked up to be sometimes? She was still amazed these years later that she hadn’t gotten her ass shot off. She’d had two F4-U Corsair class fighters shot out from under her ass, thank you very much. Her official recorded tally was 38 confirmed kills and 6 unconfirmed from the years she’d served as a combat pilot.

 

’38’ and ‘6’ were two numbers she was not fond of. She’d done what she had to do in the name of Federation and Service Before Self…

 

The junior flight jocks - or the newbie ground pounder, or the geeky science specialist - didn’t really understand what disliking a simple set of numbers meant, or the bonds formed in service until they experienced it themselves. They wouldn’t understand until they led a flight squad or a department on assignment, experienced their first firefight, had an encounter with a weird plant thing on some far flung planet, or lost a friend like Joe ‘Jo Jo’ Breckinridge*.

 

Likewise, command engendered a lot of responsibility and would only be understood by others in command. And sometimes, that responsibility would fall to others. Such as Acting Commander of the Air Group Lieutenant Jagrissa Shaow Honor-Scar, call sign Jumper.

 

(To Be Continued)

 

*See “Night Terrors” (11.19.11) for further information