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Author Topic: ABS FIESTA REDUX  (Read 1668756 times)

your guerra' fault joking

Anyway I did some looking into on the whole supersonic ejection thing. Even if the force of the air doesn't rip Guerra's helmet off or kill him outright, it can and probably will break bones and dislocate joints.

i did say more than a few of his bones were broken

SAR Teams get on the helicopters. A security team joins them. The two helicopters sit for a momet, making noise and blowing sand. One takes off, then the other. They circle and form up. I watch them as they dissapear.

Wonderful.

Guerra is brought back to the base on a stretcher and taken to the infirmary, where he is cuffed to the sickbed while the docs work on fixing up his physical issues.


I sulk about the hangers. Guerra is a defector, or at the least, a psychopathic starfish. Steele is dead. Takamichi too. I feel more and more like Bell and I are the only original squadron members left.

I inspect the aircraft. My name is painted in the side, as it should be. That's all through. I take up the brush at my feet and some red paint. I proceed to paint on one side a MiG and a Eurofighter in red. I put a line through each, continuing Takamichi's starfish painting endeavors.

Next I add the kill markers. I come up with a creative system, an H or Z designating whether the aircraft was zentragothic or Huitz. I leave space under the kill markers for an X to designate whether or not the pilot was killed too. I plan to add a lot more Huitz pilots deaths to my list.

I watch the whole debacle from the mess hall window. What the hell is going on? I step out and head to the hangars to ask the man painting his aircraft what's going on.
"Hey, what just happened?"
« Last Edit: April 14, 2015, 04:28:26 PM by Gojira »

I inspect the aircraft. My name is painted in the side, as it should be.
Something else you see (but may not have noticed, as you're accustomed to it in every other plane you've ever flown) is that the instrument texts appear to be in Aesthian.
« Last Edit: April 14, 2015, 04:50:21 PM by Qwepir »

"Hey, what just happened?" an unfamiliar voice says.

I turn to see a short, black-haired, grey eyed Kintharian. It's one of the replacements. I take a moment to formulate a less vulgar response.

"One of our pilots ran off. He left after apparently brutally failing to negotiate with Huitz hostage-takers. Considering I saw the SAR helicopters come back and a stretcher be brought out, I assume that he's back now, but he's in the infirmary," I reply. 

I drop the brush onto the floor and turn to continue conversation.

I turn around and wipe the paint off my hands from finishing the "Angry face" on my plane.

"At this stage i'm tired of hearing about Junkers shenanigans. We caught the creep and its in HQ's hands now. I'm just wondering how many curveballs will be thrown at us next."


(the irony is that she's literally flying junkers' old plane)
« Last Edit: April 14, 2015, 05:41:00 PM by Qwepir »

not that I have a problem with it, but a cursory google search reveals that the PAK-FA should probably have more than 6 hardpoints, unless they decided that the internal weapons bay should be used for storing illegally obtained assault rifles.


"So that's what that whole mess was about?"
Hm. I head over to my new Flanker to paint my name and rank on it, and learn how to start and shut down the aircraft.

not that I have a problem with it, but a cursory google search reveals that the PAK-FA should probably have more than 6 hardpoints, unless they decided that the internal weapons bay should be used for storing illegally obtained assault rifles.
internal weapons bays are full of pots and pans for comedic effect
(in all seriousness it has 2 coaxs and 8 hardpoints now)

"He was taken by some of ours when the Huitz were trying to take back captured arms. The Huitz had taken hostages. Junkers speaks Huitz. It's also his country of origin,"

I take a breath.

"Well, now three are dead because of his piss poor negotiation skills. He couldn't even stall the damned Huitz. The dead include our top maintenance tech," I yell across the hanger.

I pull myself up to the roosterpit of the jet. I look inside. It's as cramped as the Dassault. I notice that all of the controls are labeled in asethian. Looks like it's all be written over. She did it. Takamichi forgetin' did it.

A very odd mixture of thankfulness and sadness hits me. I climb in and sit quietly.