Post by ender on Feb 18, 2010 17:32:17 GMT -5
The first thing he hears when he opens the hatch is the hiss of the release, the warm air inside the cockpit escaping into the cold air of the rear hangar deck of the Decimator. Sweat lines his brow as he steps out, the technicians already working to buff out the dings and tune up the systems after the brief and enjoyable sortie.
The crew knew to get to work on "The Beast", the affectionate nickname for the Xamel, both out of respect for the massive firepower it could bring to bear, and the way that Irusk handled himself in the battlefield. He had absolutely no patience for the suit to sit in the hangar bay with the crew not working on it. He cast a cold gaze at the crew, just watching them work.
Scars in the metal as well as the sounds of the supports moaning as the ship moved along reminded him, as well as anyone else on the ship, that she was still damaged, and that any time spent not working on "The Beast" was to be spent keeping "The Bucket" on her air cushion.
"They're doing their best, you know?" Her voice brings him out of his own mind, returning to the deck of the Decimator. It's smoky and low, almost matching the way she works around the hangar bay. While he has placed her in command of the ship, more often than not, Sascha Kratikoff leaves the CIC to the XO, while she returns to the hangar bay that holds her crew and original duty. She flicks a bit of the dark hair out of her face, quickly tying her long hair behind her in a loose ponytail. Her sharp features, right down to the way she pursed her lips as she thought reminded Alec of a girl he knew back home, but he quickly dismissed it.
"Sometimes it seems that the best isn't good enough, Corporal. We've got work to do. Follow me." His tone doesn't show what exactly he is feeling, but the long glance at one of the fatigued supports of the Decimator belies the worry in his gut. A hand runs through his hair, trying to shake out a bit of the helmet-hair he perpetually suffers from after a sortie.
She follows him, keeping just behind him as they move through the halls of the ship, passing marines and crew members, a constant bustle of activity inside the Gallop-class ship. It's spartan, truly military in the way the ship looks, right down to the gunmetal gray hue of the floors and walls, which almost seem to blend into each other. He places a hand on the wall as he rounds a corner, entering the first doorway.
"Sir, are you sure about this plan?" Kratikoff asks as she buttons the top button of her uniform, signifying the change from the mechanic to the ship commander, only directly under the command of Irusk himself. The XO of the ship, salutes as the pair enters, straightening up from the tactical table screen, the other officers in the tactical room doing the same.
"Of course I am, Corporal." He returns the salute, and then relaxes, signifying the same for the crew. The others return to their duties, as Irusk looks directly at the XO. "What's the sitrep?" He motions to the map of their target, various signifiers for Federal Forces and Zeonic Troops highlighted by the computer.
"Well, sir, it's a fustercluck if I've ever seen one. The feddies have ships and fleets all over the area, and what you're proposing is insane." The older officer spoke with a gruff voice, years of smoking showing as he spoke. He looked at Irusk with his one good eye, the other covered by an eye-patch, a scar from a long-ago fought battle.
"I'm aware of that, Commander Zoktavir. I'm also aware that we have one of the most advanced pieces of artillery sitting in our hangar, as well as the might of the Spirit of Zeon behind us. I've studied your tactics while I was in the academy, and it's why I asked you to be the XO on this ship. Now, here's my proposal." Without a moment's pause, his hand moves over the screen on the table, highlighting the target, as well as the area surrounding it. "We'll be positioning ourselves here, well out of range of their weapons. I've asked for a few favors from friends within our forces, so we'll have some back-up, in case things go to shit. Corporal Kratikoff, you'll be coming with me in 'The Beast'. I need you to maintain fire-control, as well as make sure that she fires truer than ever before, while I focus on trying not to get us killed."
The look she gives him smacks of shock, but she says nothing, just nodding, and then looking back at the tactical screen. "I've also coordinated with Corporal Karchev, who'll be flying the Luggun. He'll be able to make sure I have the best firing solution for you, Sergeant. You'll have your eyes in the sky. But don't you think I'd best work inside the hangar, making sure the crew is ready to reload your suit as soon as she needs it?" She speaks without looking at him, as if something were really bothering her.
"Lass, we'll be fine here. I can keep the crews at top performance, don't doubt that. It'll be up to you to make sure his Beast never falters. It's why you're here, aye?" Zoktavir just glances at Kratikoff before he looks at Irusk. "I figure that our best position will be right 'ere, along this line of dunes. Give us plenty of escape opportunities should we need it, and The Bucket can lay down enough firepower to support your attack."
Irusk nods, thinking back to the exercises back at the Academy. Theoretical warfare was always his strongest suit, but he was never truly given a chance to put it into practice while in Space or at Odessa. Now, at the front lines? A different story for the Warmonger. He craved the battle, and the ability to test his theories in fire.
"Commander Zoktavir, start the clock. Operations begin in one hour. My unit better be ready before we arrive to our target." He looks back up at the crew, his command team, before the map was displayed on the main computer in the room. "Operation: Full Throttle will be a decisive strike. Relay my plans to the rest of the fleet. No mistakes can be made."
Kratikoff pursed her lips again, and looked at the readout. "I just hope this works. The gamble is a big risk, Sergeant."
He smiles, looking at the XO, and then at Kratikoff. "Sometimes you have to roll the hard six. Besides, can't you taste it? The lust of battle, the taste of war. It's the best we can hope for. And Zeon is with us."
Eyes move back to the tactical read out. "And with that, we can never fail."
The crew knew to get to work on "The Beast", the affectionate nickname for the Xamel, both out of respect for the massive firepower it could bring to bear, and the way that Irusk handled himself in the battlefield. He had absolutely no patience for the suit to sit in the hangar bay with the crew not working on it. He cast a cold gaze at the crew, just watching them work.
Scars in the metal as well as the sounds of the supports moaning as the ship moved along reminded him, as well as anyone else on the ship, that she was still damaged, and that any time spent not working on "The Beast" was to be spent keeping "The Bucket" on her air cushion.
"They're doing their best, you know?" Her voice brings him out of his own mind, returning to the deck of the Decimator. It's smoky and low, almost matching the way she works around the hangar bay. While he has placed her in command of the ship, more often than not, Sascha Kratikoff leaves the CIC to the XO, while she returns to the hangar bay that holds her crew and original duty. She flicks a bit of the dark hair out of her face, quickly tying her long hair behind her in a loose ponytail. Her sharp features, right down to the way she pursed her lips as she thought reminded Alec of a girl he knew back home, but he quickly dismissed it.
"Sometimes it seems that the best isn't good enough, Corporal. We've got work to do. Follow me." His tone doesn't show what exactly he is feeling, but the long glance at one of the fatigued supports of the Decimator belies the worry in his gut. A hand runs through his hair, trying to shake out a bit of the helmet-hair he perpetually suffers from after a sortie.
She follows him, keeping just behind him as they move through the halls of the ship, passing marines and crew members, a constant bustle of activity inside the Gallop-class ship. It's spartan, truly military in the way the ship looks, right down to the gunmetal gray hue of the floors and walls, which almost seem to blend into each other. He places a hand on the wall as he rounds a corner, entering the first doorway.
"Sir, are you sure about this plan?" Kratikoff asks as she buttons the top button of her uniform, signifying the change from the mechanic to the ship commander, only directly under the command of Irusk himself. The XO of the ship, salutes as the pair enters, straightening up from the tactical table screen, the other officers in the tactical room doing the same.
"Of course I am, Corporal." He returns the salute, and then relaxes, signifying the same for the crew. The others return to their duties, as Irusk looks directly at the XO. "What's the sitrep?" He motions to the map of their target, various signifiers for Federal Forces and Zeonic Troops highlighted by the computer.
"Well, sir, it's a fustercluck if I've ever seen one. The feddies have ships and fleets all over the area, and what you're proposing is insane." The older officer spoke with a gruff voice, years of smoking showing as he spoke. He looked at Irusk with his one good eye, the other covered by an eye-patch, a scar from a long-ago fought battle.
"I'm aware of that, Commander Zoktavir. I'm also aware that we have one of the most advanced pieces of artillery sitting in our hangar, as well as the might of the Spirit of Zeon behind us. I've studied your tactics while I was in the academy, and it's why I asked you to be the XO on this ship. Now, here's my proposal." Without a moment's pause, his hand moves over the screen on the table, highlighting the target, as well as the area surrounding it. "We'll be positioning ourselves here, well out of range of their weapons. I've asked for a few favors from friends within our forces, so we'll have some back-up, in case things go to shit. Corporal Kratikoff, you'll be coming with me in 'The Beast'. I need you to maintain fire-control, as well as make sure that she fires truer than ever before, while I focus on trying not to get us killed."
The look she gives him smacks of shock, but she says nothing, just nodding, and then looking back at the tactical screen. "I've also coordinated with Corporal Karchev, who'll be flying the Luggun. He'll be able to make sure I have the best firing solution for you, Sergeant. You'll have your eyes in the sky. But don't you think I'd best work inside the hangar, making sure the crew is ready to reload your suit as soon as she needs it?" She speaks without looking at him, as if something were really bothering her.
"Lass, we'll be fine here. I can keep the crews at top performance, don't doubt that. It'll be up to you to make sure his Beast never falters. It's why you're here, aye?" Zoktavir just glances at Kratikoff before he looks at Irusk. "I figure that our best position will be right 'ere, along this line of dunes. Give us plenty of escape opportunities should we need it, and The Bucket can lay down enough firepower to support your attack."
Irusk nods, thinking back to the exercises back at the Academy. Theoretical warfare was always his strongest suit, but he was never truly given a chance to put it into practice while in Space or at Odessa. Now, at the front lines? A different story for the Warmonger. He craved the battle, and the ability to test his theories in fire.
"Commander Zoktavir, start the clock. Operations begin in one hour. My unit better be ready before we arrive to our target." He looks back up at the crew, his command team, before the map was displayed on the main computer in the room. "Operation: Full Throttle will be a decisive strike. Relay my plans to the rest of the fleet. No mistakes can be made."
Kratikoff pursed her lips again, and looked at the readout. "I just hope this works. The gamble is a big risk, Sergeant."
He smiles, looking at the XO, and then at Kratikoff. "Sometimes you have to roll the hard six. Besides, can't you taste it? The lust of battle, the taste of war. It's the best we can hope for. And Zeon is with us."
Eyes move back to the tactical read out. "And with that, we can never fail."