ABS FIESTA REDUX

[Swat 3]

still can't get over the fact that the majority of the kintharian airforce are young girls

[Ad Bot]

[Mr. Hurricane]

The flight back seems long. Our formation seemed much smaller returning without Daxton or Steele. I was pleased however to hear that Steele had been picked up, though there was no sign of Daxton. The quiet whistle of the jet engine is the only symphony. The stars are absolutely beautiful.

Landing goes without incident, though I was annoyed that the sparse, peaceful, and calm radio broadcasts had turned over to near-constant chatter. I taxi to an auxiliary hanger and park the craft. It's to be put into a light mothballing condition. Once I finally get out of the craft I'm beat, and the air whisks away what energy I have. I get a small snack and limp into bed. Falling asleep quickly.

About three to four hours later I wake up. I had had a dream, reliving the experience of a few hours earlier. Not a nightmare, though. I notice that the base food isn't sitting right, snag my phone and sit on the stuffter. I read about Mercanan and Kintherian customs and obscenities, so that I can get a basic idea of how not to piss them off and what they will yell at me when I have.

[Qwepir]

still can't get over the fact that the majority of the kintharian airforce are young girls

Not the majority, they just have monogender squadrons. The one helping you take down the titan was all-male, this one is all-female.

[NoZoner]

[after jacov explains himself and the kintharian starts yelling]

I grab hold of the Kintharian's wrists and tear her grip from Jacov's collar.

"If you have nothing else to say, then leave. It's been a long day for everyone."

[Gojira]

A Kintharian girl, small of course, sits down next to you. Her hair is surprisingly blonde, and she does not look happy. The patch on her armband has the silhouette of an aircraft, and curled around it is a furry white creature with red eyes. Raiden squadron.
"You forgeted up."
A silver-haired woman attempts to stop the young girl, she's twenty at the most. She doesn't care, and continues speaking. "You and your squadron. What the forget were you thinking, dropping that thing's propulsion. Where did you think it would go, you dumb starfish?" Her sentence is punctuated by her grabbing you roughly by the collar, and she briefly continues, "You loving weren't, were you? You just went and did the rash thing instead of thinking like some kind of retar-"
She's interrupted by a haggard-looking woman grabbing her shoulder, the other three girls in Raiden flight looking on with concern. The blonde firebrand almost doesn't stop. Almost. She shoots a glare at you, daring you to make a retort.

"Okay, wait, what? Why are you yelling at me? I didn't attack that thing, the ground attack aircraft in my squadron did. I didn't forget up except for engaging an enemy ace. Besides, I had no control over where the forget it would go. I had no control over the pilot of that damn thing. The pilot of the god damn thing is the one who did. He loving maneuvered that thing into the loving city. We're all feeling the same thing as you, we're just not venting it the way you are."
I exhale heavily, and calm myself down. I almost stand up but decide against it, probably don't want to get in a fight, especially with our allies.

[xxxxkill]

"Okay, wait, what? Why are you yelling at me? I didn't attack that thing, the ground attack aircraft in my squadron did. I didn't forget up except for engaging an enemy ace. Besides, I had no control over where the forget it would go. I had no control over the pilot of that damn thing. The pilot of the god damn thing is the one who did. He loving maneuvered that thing into the loving city. We're all feeling the same thing as you, we're just not venting it the way you are."
I exhale heavily, and calm myself down. I almost stand up but decide against it, probably don't want to get in a fight, especially with our allies.

The feisty shortstack has raised her voice at this point, practically yelling, "Well WHO THE forget WAS COORDINATING THE OFFENSIVE. You just had to SHOOT THE GUNS THEN CHASE IT DOWN YOU forgetIN-"

I grab hold of the Kintharian's wrists and tear her grip from Jacov's collar.

"If you have nothing else to say, then leave. It's been a long day for everyone."

The woman with her hair done into a bun stops the blonde from decking you across the jaw after the interruption. "I know. She knows. We all know."
She pauses, her apparent subordinate glaring daggers at both you and Steele. The girl with the bun starts to pull her squadmate away from the both of you, but that doesn't stop one last comment from her.
"...at least we didn't drop our damn Maglev on your lines."

[Qwepir]

I grab hold of the Kintharian's wrists and tear her grip from Jacov's collar.

The woman with her hair done into a bun stops the blonde from decking you across the jaw after the interruption.

One of the cooks, a rather portly bearded fellow, notices things getting physical and comes out of the kitchen brandishing a heavy-duty soup ladle.
"Hey! You do not fight in my mess hall! You calm down, or go outside, but I will not let you trash this place."

[Gojira]

I glare at the little stuff who decided they'd yell at me for something that's not even my fault.

[Juncoph]

Having been spectating the scrap since I entered the mess hall, I decide to clarify things bluntly.

"[LISTEN!]"

I shouted in Huit to grab everyone's attention.

"In many cases, Huit forces fight for their freedom, as they are slaves. As that implies, coming back from a failed attack as a slave is ill advised. It's likely that most of the crew were slaves, and would have smashed into the ground if they had only lost their armament, simply because they would prefer to die fighting than from an officer's revolver. If they were higher ranking units, however, you could expect them to return with new turrets the next morning, rendering the initial victory pointless. There is no way to combat a Huit offensive without consequence."

"And I was the one who shot it down. Thank you for listening, and I apologize for recognizing another Huit's logic."

I cross my arms and stand by my squad members' sides, betting on the chef, the older woman, and my squad to prevent the naive twit from making a mistake.

[Mr. Hurricane]

I arrive at the mess hall after my bout of dysentery, feeling empty and worn out from the day's flying. I can almost feel the bags under my eyes. My eyelids feel heavy. All I need is food. I can hear some yelling but I take it as nothing more than a party for the destruction of that air cruiser thin. I swing open one of the doors. Junkers yells out some hard throat sounds and sharp letter-to-letter transitions. There's some murmuring going on. I walk further in. Everybody's watching a group in the middle. Junkers is on his soap box, preaching. A group of Kintharian pilots is on one side. Our own 514th on another. I check the time, its about 300 hours.

I roll my eyes and quietly shuffle towards the food line, keeping an eye turned to the groups that are fighting.

[Gojira]

I almost deck the small girl in her face, but stop myself before my arms are uncrossed. I'd rather keep my rank, and not get written up for disciplinary action, thank you very much.

[xxxxkill]

Having been spectating the scrap since I entered the mess hall, I decide to clarify things bluntly.

"[LISTEN!]"

I shouted in Huit to grab everyone's attention.

"In many cases, Huit forces fight for their freedom, as they are slaves. As that implies, coming back from a failed attack as a slave is ill advised. It's likely that most of the crew were slaves, and would have smashed into the ground if they had only lost their armament, simply because they would prefer to die fighting than from an officer's revolver. If they were higher ranking units, however, you could expect them to return with new turrets the next morning, rendering the initial victory pointless. There is no way to combat a Huit offensive without consequence."

"And I was the one who shot it down. Thank you for listening, and I apologize for recognizing another Huit's logic."

I cross my arms and stand by my squad members' sides, betting on the chef, the older woman, and my squad to prevent the naive twit from making a mistake.

The small firebrand starts up again, despite her captain trying to get her to stop. "No you loving dipstuff, all you had to do was break its armament, then it would've pulled back because that loving thing is expensive! Worth more than the goddamn crew, so THEN YOU SHOOT IT DOWN." She's practically in hysterics, the rest of her squadron growing more concerned, and her captain growing more agitated. "That's all you had to loving do, it'S ALL WE DID, AND IN HALF THE TIME-"

Her last sentence has her almost lunging straight at you, before being caught by the woman in the bun. Her furious breathing becomes more shallow, more frequent, and her resistance against her flight leader less and less intense, until finally she buries her face in her captain's flight vest. Her quiet whimpering sobs muffled by the vest still seem louder than any of her screaming.

It's silent in the mess hall, and almost everybody is staring at the lot of you. The woman in the bun gently pulls the young firebrand towards the door, and a young girl with a short, shoulder-length haircut joins them. The other two members of Raiden squadron look on in concern, unsure whether to stay or go.

[Juncoph]

"You seem to forget that it's obvious we would shoot them down if they tried to flee. If we followed them, they would simply turn around and crash it. Take some of us with them."

I walk over to the part of the dining room where food is served, and enter the now short line.

[Gojira]

For the first time, I note the grief on her face.
"Oh. That's why you're so upset," I mutter.

[Qwepir]

For the first time, I note the grief on her face.
"Oh. That's why you're so upset," I mutter.

The cook notices and adds his two cents.
"Bunch of lousy kids, shouldn't even be pilots for several years. Hormones plus training? Bad news. I dont trust my eldest with the car, let alone a million dollar piece of equipment."
He walks back to the kitchen, still grumbling.
"Zentragoths do same thing, 's despicable."