Beacon, Beacon, Briefing
Beacon, Beacon, Briefing
Summary: An Air Wing Briefing re: Capture the Beacon.
Date: PH057 (15 June 2009)
Related Logs: Beacon, Beacon, Who's Got The Beacon

CEC Kharon, Hangar Deck, Ready Room

IC Time: Post Holocaust Day #57
OOC Time: Sun Jun 14 18:25:25 2009

//The soft glow of white lights overhead cast pervasive illumination across the battleship gray walls and dark, trodden carpet floor. An aisle divides the chairs, bolted to risers, into two sections. The plush black leather and padding of each chair is well worn from years of use, adding an edge of comfort to the otherwise business ready room. A pull down screen and a digital projection unit are available for footage viewing.

There are three desks at the rear of the room, and stacks of technical manuals and tactical guides set into shelving behind them. Cabinets sit to one side of the desks, and a rack of deep green flight suits, helmets, and misc. gear can be found on the other. One section of the wall near the front, kept clear of clutter, is a wooden wall-plate that goes nearly floor to ceiling.//

Jason arrives punctually but not remarkably so. He takes his seat in the general vicinity of some fellow Raptor riders, not far from Kassia, and preps to get into attentive student mode. His standard setting for these briefings.

Kassia pokes the whispering pilot with her pencil, and answer him with a quick grin, just as Jason passes her. "Hey Jay." She says to her ECM. She's then turning her head to follow thoes walk in.

Kai arrives a little late, on the heels of a pair of Ensigns with clipboards and cigarettes tucked behind their ears. He's in his flight suit, of course; zipper tugged down and helmet under one arm, notably lacking in notes or officious looking file folders today. He veers away from the pilots seating themselves, who probably haven't spotted him behind them, and heads on up to the podium.

Jupiter wanders through the hatch, joining the assembly of pilots, wandering in last with a cup of coffee. She hops onto the risers, and takes a seat up in the back, in her usual quadrant. She drops into the chair, slouches as usual, and does her best to finish the coffee before someone bitches about it.

Having spotted the rest of the 4th SOS, Timon goes to join them, slipping into an unoccupied chair with a barely audible sigh of contentment. He gives Kassia and Jason a distractive wave before returning his attention to the notepad he's got in his hand. From somewhere in his uniform he produces a short pencil with which to take notes — slightly worn, it seems, and with distinct bite-marks where eraser meets wood.

"Jupiter." Mars mumbles as the other pilot sits nearby. She doesn't say anything else, though. Or even move her head from the back of her seat, staring generally up at the tiling of the ceiling. Pen in her left hand, she holds it stabby side out. Just in case.

Eddie pulls in just behind the Captain, which means she's not late. She's fashionably on time. She has a cup of coffee in hand, like she could use any more help being jittery. She looks like her skin is practically crawling with nervousness, as she looks around for a seat, and begrudgingly takes one near the front.

Xanthus leans back in his chair, casually slips a rubberband from around his wrist, and snaps a spitball at Mars. Hopefully nobody notices.

Castor noticed and leans again to Kassia before he says softly, "I think the natives are restless…." He then adds, "I'd lean down if I were you." And Leda himself sinks slightly in his chair.

Mars leans subtly to the side, right about as the spitball leaves Xanthus' general location and whizzes towards her. It goes sailing by.

Jason offers a small wave and faint smile to Kassia and Timon in acknowledgement, before fixing his eyes straight ahead. If he's at all aware of the spitballing going on, he gives no sign of it.

Jupiter balances her coffee cup on her thigh, and reaches up to pull her dark curls up into a tail. She secures it with a few twists of a black band, and rescues what's left of her coffee before it sloshes anywhere. She returns the greeting of the pilot in front of her. "Mars." And lo, the planets align. And then a spitball whizzes just past Mars to peg LtJG Black. She whips her pen back at Xanthus.

Kai ditches his helmet atop the podium itself, where his notes would normally go, before moving away to the little projection system nearby. Which he proceeds to fiddle with for a few minutes in his typical technically-challenged fashion. Oh, Kai. Finally managing to bring something up on the screen — which looks like a diagram of section tactics, and probably is — he steps back. Just in time to see the spitball fly. "Charming, Spiros. All right, settle down— that means you, Fingers."

"Classy," Timon murmurs under his breath, eyebrows rising in a way that makes his forehead look even more creased than usual. But whatever else he's got to say goes away right quickly when Kai opens his mouth to talk. The Raptor driver flips lazily to an open page in his book, pencil at the ready.

Xanthus deflects Jupiter's projectile not like a ninja, but like the ninja's battered, abused, and mistreated pupil. It doesn't hit him, but it's not graceful. He smirks at Jupiter, gives Mars a smile, and uses Jup's pen as if he intended to take notes with it.

Dammet. Jupiter sinks a little lower in her seat, flicks off the spitball, and finishes her coffee. She sets her coffee cup, now empty, under her chair. Jupes goes back to facing forward. Somebody's getting their bunk short sheeted tonight. She didn't need that pen anyway.

Kassia hmms softly at Castor as the spitball goes whizzying past her head. "Aha I see what you mean, it's okay I think some of your squad are trying to relive their school days." She then leans over and whispers something, before nodding her head at the senior Raptor pilot. "Sir." She says, then blinks…

Meanwhile, Willem sits, carefully perched on his lone aisle seat as he continues to tap his foot rapidly, somewhat removed from the social atmosphere of the briefing. He pops the notebook on his lap open and pulls a pen out, propping it between his teeth and only turning his head a fraction of an inch towards Kai. His focus only lasts a moment until the Captain lays a quaint verbal wrist-slapping on his new wingman, as well as Jupiter, as he turns idly back to study them, only a faint quirk of the brow. Interesting. But only somewhat. He turns back to Kai once more, taking a disgustingly chewed pen-cap out of his mouth and setting it on his lap as well. Be careful, buddy. It's not like pens are as disposable as they used to be.

Eddie doubles over, propping her elbows just above her knees with her coffee cup dangling between them. She's already in her flight suit, sans helmet, and now her toes start to tap like she has too much energy to burn.

Xanthus? Well, he gets flipped the bird. But there's amusement in Mars' eyes as she lifts her head off the chair's headrest and looks his way. Reaching into a breast-pocket, she tugs out a pen and holds it in the air at about Jupiter's eye level.

Castor turns and gives Xanthus a look, it isn't a kind look either, seems a certain jig is in deep kimchi, he turns back to Kassia and whispers something to the Nevice, whatever is going he is clearly not pleased.

"As some of you may be aware, we're taking the opportunity this evening to do some atmospheric training. I know it sounds boring as shit, so we're going to liven things up by playing a little game." Kai nods toward the screen. "We're going to split into two teams of vipers, with one raptor each playing 'captain'. They will be your eyes and ears, since DRADIS will be switched off in the vipers. There will be a beacon set up in each team's home base, which will need to be recovered by the raptor and brought back to their own team's base. The rest of you will be covering the raptor or defending your own beacon. Consider it like capture the flag. The planet we'll be heading out to has a pretty dense atmosphere, so it's going to be tough on you. You're going to have to work hard to move your machine. Any questions?"

Jupes reaches forward, without really looking away from the podium, and quietly takes the pen as it's offered. Re-armed. She thinks for a moment, and raises her hand.

Xanthus offers Castor a smile, but drops everything as soon as the briefing begins. He raises his hand.

Timon closes one eye and squints the other as he scribbles something down on his pad. Then, up goes his hand.

Kassia rolls her eyes and sits back, she places her feet up on the feet infront of her and just listens. She apparently likes the sound of this training ex, because a smile spreads across her face. Oh…..Fun! Capture the flag.

Kai nods to Jupiter. "Go ahead, Black."

Jupiter says, "Will our team be penalized for … cosmetic damage?"

Eddie just keeps doing a stationary tap dance routine, listening to the brief of today's exercise, but doesn't seem to have any smartassed questions of her own. For once.

Jason looks intrigued at the description of the exericse. He nods, to show he groks the description, and jots down a few notes on the octagonal paper he brought along.

Kai considers that for a few moments, eyes on Jupiter. "No. But you swap anything more than paint, and you'll be disqualified. And have to deal with the Chief's boot up your ass. Spiros?"

Meanwhile, Wil inclines his head downwards as he studies the destroyed pen cap. Score one for nervous habits. Finally, he raises a lightly freckled hand, stretching out his fingers.

Xanthus clears his throat and, for a man who just age regressed to junior high schoool, sounds like he's taking this seriously, "Can we score if our beacon is missing, sir, or does it need to be recovered first?"

Castor looks back at Xanthus there is something utterly cold in his tone as he eyes the man and when he speaks there is an eerie detached calm, "Sir, will we be using live fire on this? Because you know sir accidents happen."

Jupes grins and nods to Kai, then settles back in her seat. She considers the back of Mars' head for a moment, before shoving the pen into her own hair. At Castor's question, she leans forward and smacks him upside the back of the head.

Kai tucks his arms around his midsection, maybe just to hide his sweaty palms. It's no secret really, that the viper squadron's Captain hates getting up in front of a room to give these things. "Good question, Jester. Yes, you can score with a missing beacon. I think it'll be hard enough, as is. And no, Tinman, we'll be using training lasers. Put your hand up next time, if you have a question. Rebound?"

As Leda is hit in the back of the head he then comes back to his senses, right, killing people is a bad thing. Castor looks over at Jupiter and gives a soft 'thank you' smile before he looks back at Kai, his head now in the game.

Finally called upon, Willem lets his ungloved hand fall languidly and then clears his throat. "Sir, just a bit of intel on the conditions? Dense atmosphere. Any storms to worry about? Planet's gravity?" He looks a little abashed here. He has to be the nosy pain in the ass.

Mars resumes staring up at the ceiling. Her eyes are open, so she's probably awake. But there's no telling, really. There's no motion coming from her, foot tapping or otherwise.

Kassia nods her head towards Castor then grins over her shoulder at Jupitor. "I'm glad I aint the only one, whom feels the urge to slap him."

Jupiter flashes Kassia a thumbs up, and sits back in her seat.

Nosy? "Excellent questions, Rebound." Well, Kai doesn't seem bothered, anyway. He even favours a tiny smile for the pilot, and turns to flip to the next slide. It's a grainy black and white shot of the planet, along with some readings. "Gravity is one point oh eight, so you're going to feel a little heavier. Escape velocity, twenty kilometres per second. Mean temperature on the surface, minus twenty centigrade.." He flips the slide again, and rattles off a few more readings. "We haven't done a mosaic or radiometry of the planet, so what we've got is from long-range scans and databases. But we don't anticipate any storms or strange weather patterns. That said, be prepared." He turns back to the room at large. "Any other questions?"

Up goes Ivory's hand once more.

Eddie is sitting in the front row, looking either nervous in a cat who ate the canary sort of way. She's got a serious case of jitters, probably only aided by that cup of coffee in her hands. Maybe she should switch to decaf.

Willem's lips twitch upwards in an almost-smile, but he is too busy scribbling the Captain's pertinent details in the notebook on his lap, his eyelids narrowing maybe a fraction of a centimeter and shifting his head back and forth rapidly between the slide and the paper like a jumpy bird.

Castor asks, "What are the team placements, sir?"

Xanthus squints, raising his hand.

Jupiter leans forward and baps Castor again.

Kai points his pen — yes, he has a pen — at Timon. "Shoot." Castor, poor Castor, is ignored.

"A clarification and a question, sir. First, when you said 'covering your Raptor,' that means Raptors are legitimate targets, yes?" Someone's got to ask, and the expression on Timon's face says all that needs to be said about his thoughts on the matter. Flying with blind Vipers in the tropospheric version of primordial goo with a "Kick me" sign stickied to his back? Walk in the park. "And jamming. Can we do it?"

Castor gives a look to Jupiter, the first one, but the second one, seriously…he places his hand up this time and waits to be called on. He patiently waits and refrains from looking in the back of the room, it would seem that the pilot is genuinely interested in findingout what the team placements are and so he will wait.

Kassia affectionetly pats Castors knees nd says in a quiet voice. "See that wasn't so hard."

Jupiter flashes a smile to her SL for the week (Castor), and sits back in her seat again. She slides the pen out of her hair, and taps it against her thigh.

Kai nods to Timon. "Also good questions. Yes, raptors can be targeted. We'll use the standard training settings, so once it tells you you're done" Which, for note, a raptor has a hell of a lot more armour and can take more of a pounding than their cannoned brethren. "you return immediately to base and reset. That goes for all of you." As to the jamming, "If you and your ECO can handle it, with everything else you'll have going on, then feel free. Tinman?" He turns toward Castor, once the pilot puts his hand up. It's like kindergarten, sometimes.

Castor asks, "Sir, I was wondering about team placements? Have you set them yet?" His tone and body language indicated he is in the game however he is also slightly sheepishly, probably out of fear from getting hit again as he looks over at Jupiter and then to Kassia, he finally got it right, right?

"Oh," says Timon, and in seconds he's scribbling furiously on his pad once more: "Traffic jam in Caprica City. Can bribe traffic cops." Then, taking up two whole lines, a word he's never said aloud in recent memory — "FRAK."

Meanwhile, it already looks like Willem got what he came for. He begins stowing his notebook, his pen, and sits up anxiously in his chair, adopting a more ready, formal posture than the attentive backward slouch he has been engaged in.

Martin, sitting near the back, is spinning a pen in his hands as he makes notes. These notes, apparently, come in the form of a muscular barbarian swinging a shark as a club at a robot that looks a bit like the old model Cylon Centurions. Glancing around the room and listening, he clicks the head of the pen, retreating the tip back into the body of the writing utensil.

Kai nods to Castor. "I'll put them up on the screen, so take a look at who's on your team before you head out to your machines. You'll be either gold or blue. Spiros, you had a question?" He's already reaching for his helmet.

"Sir," asks Xanthus who is 26 going on 14, "At that temp and viscocity, we'll have optimal maneuvering at 92.41….5 percent fuel load." Wait. What? "We've got nowhere to go but down and a nice meaty atmosphere, too. What time, relatively speaking, is it down there? Do the atmospheric layers merge?" He sounds serious too.

Jupiter is sitting too far away from Xanthus to smack him, but it looks like she wants to.

"I'm sure it'll be your bedtime down there, Xanthus. Sure you're up for this?" Martin quips from the back with a smirk.

Jupiter nods over to Martin, a little chin-up, no touching version of a hi5.

Jason was a quiet kid in kindergarten and that, at least, hasn't changed. Notes are taken. He pays special attention to Timon's question, and the answer it gets. The bit about jamming earns a faint grin.

Suddenly, wait. Hard data. What the frak? Wil's head shoots almost mechanically in the direction of Xanthus as he twists his body a little to study the other pilot. And then equally as mechanical a gesture back to the Captain in preparating for the coming answer. Whatever it may be.

"Fascinating, Jester," Marek deadpans, to Xanthus' commentary. His helmet is tucked under one arm, and he reaches briefly to flip to the next slide, which shows the two teams. "No, I don't know what time it is down there, but if I make some shit up, will you try, for a minute, to put the jock back in viper jock for me? If there's nothing else, you're all dismissed."

..And just like that, comes Wil's smirk. It's buried, but it's there.

Xanthus snickers at Martin's remark and nods at Kai, "More swirlies, sir. And faster. I'll try." He salutes.

When Xanthus asks his questions, Mars lifts her head and smirks. Mirroring Wil's even.

Castor does't bother to look at Xanthus, instead, he simply begins to prepare himself for the mission, after all there is an enemy raptor to take out. He looks over at Jupiter as he begins to move toward his bird, "You ready for this?"

Jason collects his notes and gets to his feet, heading out.

Max gets to her feet, as she stretches her arms a bit. "A walk in the park, so to speak…" as she heads towards the flight deck

Xanthus slips Jupiter's pen into his pocket, where it sits with his pen. His clipboard is still shrinkwrapped. So far it's Xanthus 1, Clipboard Nothing. He rises to his feet and drifts towards Willem, "I've got a crazy idea, man."

Eddie is up like a shot when they're dismissed to the hangar. Too much nervous energy, and now she's been offered the outlet. She pauses only to down the rest of her coffee, crinkling the paper cup in a fist and pitching it into the trash can.

Willem wastes no time before stowing his notes and donning his gloves a little pointedly. Maybe a little bit like some kind of sadistic dentist. Or -other- medical professional. His nose wrinkles a bit as he stands, looking over at Xan momentarily and gesturing towards the hatch with a twinge of his elbow. He does give Eddie a slightly long, curious glance but tears his gaze away once more as he heads on out of the ready room.

Sliding his notebook closed, Martin rises and moves towards the door. Watching Eddie for a long moment, he looks back in Jupiter's direction and lifts an eyebrow at her. "So this will be a new thing…you and I on the same small squad." He says, motioning for her to follow. "How you been, Peanut?"

Kai tugs up the zipper on his flight suit, and tucks his pen and notepad into their designated pockets. Then the projection screen is shut off and his helmet hoisted as he prepares to file out, himself.

"You and me, Boner. The Wing isn't gonna know what hit it." Jupes hops off the risers, grabs her empty mug, and slides in beside her brother. "Did you still want to talk, or shall we waste these panties, then chat over a victory dance?"

Mars waits pretty much until everyone else has filed out before pushing to her feet. Her pen is shoved into a flightsuit pocket, the clipboard tucked under her right arm. Without really looking at anyone, she files out of her row, then out into the hangar.

"Victory dance first." Martin says. "I don't like thinking about deep shit before I fly and neither do you." He wraps an arm around Jupiter's neck and gives her a light headlock-hug before letting her go. "See you out there, Killer." He moves to tap helmets with her, before heading out the door.

Stuff in hand, Kai steps down from the podium, and heads on out.

Jupes reaches back to pop Martin in the gut before she heads out the door.

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