Smike

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang

"Pilots and ego go hand in hand," Ximena noted wryly. "Like barnacles and ships, or fleas on a dog. Where one goes the other follows."

Herself very much included. It came with being the best.

"Right, good luck."

Off Yuna trot, back to Heartbreak presumably to make sure their outdoor privileges hadn't been revoked. It was going to be rough going if everyone was confined to the barracks for the foreseeable future, and Ximena wasn't sure she could stand the thought of staring at bunkroom walls.

Lucky for her then that something more interesting to look at came wandering in.

Jefe hadn't yet met Kat, but there was no mistaking her after reading her file. The dark tint of her sunglasses gave Ximena the freedom to look her comrade up and down, and she liked what she saw. Almost impossibly tall and covered in scars, with broad shoulders and a mighty warrior's build, Kat was a foot and a half taller than Ximena and strong enough to lift and break her over a knee. Ximena would never confine her to herself to have just one type, but Kat was undoubtedly one of her many.

She fell in alongside the eyepatched giant, grabbing a tray and beginning to fill it without much regard for the menu.

"Nice to see you walking so soon. Couldn't miss the action, huh?"

@Rhona W @Finetales

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang

Well, it definitely looked like a canteen. From the most exclusive college to the most run-down insurgent camp, cafeterias had a look to them. You could clean them as much or as little as you wished; any space designed to feed many people quickly and efficiently had the area of a feeding trough.

"I give the French this: unlike the British and their wayward colonies, they can make food that's worth a damn without being drenched in grease. Give me a tartine over navy beans, any day of the week."

Baked beans, sausage, French toast, bacon, and fried eggs- was it any wonder Westerners were fat? They ate breakfast like they were all construction workers!

She followed Yuna over to the coffee machines, finding exactly what she expected: shit. They said free things tasted best, but that seasoning only made the brew palatable.

"You think they're going to let us off base still?" she asked Yuna, sprinkling a pinch of salt into her coffee. "Or did our friends in the mechanic bay ruin that?"

Ximena was hoping to prowl more, by herself or with someone else. She didn't feel comfortable in a base until she had made a full accounting of the nightcrawlers near it.

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang

"That one more, I would like to be you, Lieutenant Huang. I most eagerly await to see what you can do in your Raptor."

@Kensai

Le Chevalier's gaze was intimidating, yes, but Ximena didn't mind pretty women staring into her soul. She looked back unblinking, the inhuman pink of her rise giving her shark-toothed smile an uncanny quality.

"Well it doesn't get my blood up like a dogfight would, but SEAD against backwater yokels? Consider it done, mon capitaine."

The French rolled off her tongue like a marble, Ximena enjoying the way it sounded. She didn't know exactly what she had done to warrant such scrutiny- it was probably her reputation for less-than-military bearing- but a challenge like that would not be ignored.

She'd show the little coq gaulois how a Raptor fought.

"It's a shame I won't get to see Meow Flight throw down," Ximena nodded to Yuna. "But I'm sure you can protect the Kitten as she lumbers about in that hog of hers."

The snippy little frog took compliments about as well as Ximena had expected, the ex-spy's eyes flicking from Chevy's scowl to Heartbreak's clenched fist. Her first instinct was to make the situation worse, and had the new guy (well, the newest new guy) not shown up Jefe might not have been able to stop herself. She only just managed to keep her mouth shut as Scott greeted the Brit- good God, another one of them?

Maybe that's why Bouchard was so pissy-sticking a Frenchwoman in a team full of Windsorites was like dumping a muzzled dog in a pen full of cats.

"Sure thing. See you later then boss man, boss lady."

She honestly had no idea where the canteen was, she hadn't eaten anything since the sandwich she had scarfed down on the flight over. Hopefully Yuna knew the place better than she did, because Ximena was following her.

"You missed a lot of fun yesterday, a real clusterfuck of a thing. There was a cell of saboteurs in the mechanic bay and we had to clear them out ourselves. CQC bullshit, like we're marines or something. Hell of a thing, and a hell of a lot of fun."

@Hyperion338 @Finetales @Kensai

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Fuka Nakano

The new girl, Amelia, was staring at her. Fuka responded in kind, a faint smirk playing across her face as she put her arms behind her back and stood up straight. "I'd be lying if I said you were the first person to eye me up." she snickered."I guess it's lucky that we'll be working together, gives you all the time you need to dissect me."

She nodded to confirm her callsign, extending her hand to shake-only to watch bemusedly as Sparrow seemed to suddenly realize she had a prosthetic. Fuka raised an eyebrow as Amelia gushed over her 'metal arm', the reaction more in line with what she expected from kids than adults.

"I'm glad one of us likes it." she noted dryly. "For me it's a real pain in the ass, but I guess it beats having only one hand.

And then, as suddenly as it bubbled up, the excitement disappeared, self-consciousness rearing its ugly head and driving Sparrow to the ground. Fuka, unsure of what else to do, patted her on the shoulder.

"You're fine. I just didn't expect all that enthusiasm this early in the morning. Anyway, you're on the younger side for a combat pilot; how many years have you been flying?"

It seemed sensible to change the subject.

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang

"It's admittedly concerning that I was what gave you the will to survive, but hey, if that's what it takes. One casualty is probably enough for now."

It was two, actually, according to what she heard, but it seemed in poor taste to bring up the KIA pilot. Bringing up the WIA one was also in poor taste, but significantly less so.

Ximena waited for Yuna to get comfortable before beginning her opening statement, laying out the accusation like a lawyer looking to get famous by securing a significant conviction. Scott, the scoundrel and criminal he was, squirmed under the weight of his crimes.

Hell yes I want to know! An attack craft that was outdated during the Gulf War, moving with all the speed and wherewithal of a drunk tortoise, scored a kill on what is essentially invisible greased lightning equipped with sensors advanced enough to spy into heaven? I am outraged, sir, outraged."

Yuna brought up good points, Ximena nodding sagely as her assistant prosecutor laid out all the possibilities.

"It was all of the above most likely, and of course the fight still had to be 'equalized. '" She let the word slide off her tongue as if she were describing one of the more distasteful bodily functions, practically spitting it from her mouth. "My guess is that the glorious and tragic hero- the mighty Raptor, king of all birds!- wasn't allowed to fight in the way that suited it. I bet that the rightly named Devil Dogs arranged for it to be chained, to be denied the use of its elegant stealth hunting tactics in favor of brutishly trading punches like some backalley brawler and you, Heartbreak, were merely the man assigned to pull the trigger. It was not a fight but an execution and I demand-"

She was just getting into her persona when Aurélie came rushing in, Jefe glancing at the rapidly approaching figure as a diatribe died on her lips.

Son of a bitch...

How very unlike a Frenchwoman to be the one suggesting they get to work. Still, there was no need to be unprofessional. Ximena returned the nod and gathered around the table, whistling appreciatively at the photos.

"Looks like you guys did a number on them already. I'm not the one who signed the contract, but I'm sure the Maltese would appreciate it if we finished the job on the ground instead of waiting for them to take a crack at this place."

Granted, it was easy to suggest that when you piloted a stealth fighter. Why would she be afraid of a little air defense?

@Rhona W @Kensai @Finetales

Fuka Nakano

Honestly, she had slept better than she had in weeks. There was something about the post-firefight glow that soothed her, the sensation of her muscles loosening and the adrenaline draining from her system. It was like a reverse runner's high, a dogtiredness that permeated her bones and made a chunk of ground with a tarp over as inviting as a bed at the Ritz-Carlton. It had to be similar to what bears felt at the end of fall: a deep satisfaction at having proved herself dominant over those who would hurt her, and an all-consuming need to hibernate.

Waking up with the sun gave her maybe five or six hours of rest, not ideal but nothing that she couldn't deal with. She couldn't have gone back to sleep anyway; her arm was flaring up. Her flesh and blood, a piece of her very identity, had been abandoned to the medical waste bin and was now tormenting her from beyond the grave. It was strange to feel pain shooting through what she could see was empty space, an ache emanating from nothing. Attaching her prosthetic didn't help, her exeminatory flexing of false fingers doing nothing to dispel the phantom sensation.

There was nothing to do except get to work.

She usually started her day by running, but Fuka needed to feel something burn. The gym was utilitarian but about as well stocked as any other she had seen, and as long as there was a barbell she could get what she needed out of the experience. She had no goal, no number of reps to meet or any intention of beating a PR.

She just needed to drown out the arm.

She didn't know how many sets she had done or even how much weight she was lifting when she spotted the new girl, but her body was properly sore and not just enthralled in psychosomatic nonsense so Peacenik chalked it up as mission accomplished. She set the bar back on its rack before approaching her new squadmate.

"Hey, new girl- it's Sparrow, right? Good shooting last night."

@Damo021

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang

"What can I say? It seems like anytime I go somewhere related to Shattered Steel, it's because someone is trying to kill me."

First her homeland, and now these, what, Maltese separatists? Some pan-Mediterranean nationalist movement? Whoever they were, they were connected sons-of-bitches with money and resources beyond what a bunch of hoodlum terrorists should have been able to scrounge up.

"But I'm not one to turn down a compliment. Hopefully all that suppressing fire made your job inside a little easier, and I look forward to showing how I'm even better in the air!"

Yuna strolled in soon after, Ximena giving her drinking buddy a nod and a lazy salute.

"Hey hey, kitty-cat. Glad to see you made it out in one piece. And you came by just in time! I was going to interrogate Heartbreak here, and I'm not allowed to question suspects without a witness."

She leveled a finger at Scott accusingly, her Cheshire grin only growing wider.

"I heard the most vile rumor while digging through files, and I'm hoping you can set the record straight. Is it true that you scored a kill on an F-22, God's favorite killing machine, with a big, slow, dumb Intruder?

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Fuka Nakano

The snap-fizzle of the lights turning on was like the chorus of trumpets at Doomsday, signalling the arrival of heavenly light to blind the sinners. The gunmen holed up in the building had adjusted to fighting in the dark, acclimated themselves to the sporadic burst of muzzle flash against the night sky. A constant burning beam was enough to throw them off their game, Fuka moving to take advantage of their temporary weakness. One man with an AK variant had thrown up his arms to shield his face, leaving her the opportunity to tuck a bullet into his chest.

Switch targets came naturally, the crosshairs drifting to the next victim in line. She saw a thin man with a submachine gun go down in a burst of lead, just as Myk was cut down off to her side.

"Shit!"

The fight was over now, Fuka able to crouch by the kid's side and begin emergency aid. Her headset crackled to life and she spared a blood-soaked finger to tap it.

"All hostiles outside dead or wounded, but we're down a man. Spark took fire; he's down."

------

Ximena Huang

Well, tonight had been something! It had been a long time since she had been engaged in an out-and-out gun battle, and she had assumed she had left that life behind in Mexico. Evidently not.

Ximena's body was still in fight or flight, running on automatic like a wind-up toy that had been let loose. Adrenaline was still coursing through her, tempered by the cognac and coke she had managed to sneak in before the briefing. Her hands were twitching, the smell of gunpowder clung to her like a damp blanket, and she could have sworn that the barrel of her SAW was still warm propped up against her lap. Was there going to be another attack? Did she have enough ammo? Was some terrorist about to throw the door open and toss in a pipe bomb? Who knew? Maybe the security forces were in on it and Cobalt was about be rounded up and shot by local cops.

The thought made her blanche, her stomach twisting itself in knots even as she willfully, gleefully, ran through all the worst case scenarios.

She lived for this shit. On land or in the air, the mixed fear and excitement of combat followed by the simple, violent joy of victory fueled her. This outfit, battered and exhausted and entirely compromised as it was, was where she belonged.

The Next Morning

She had slept maybe 3 hours, the energy of the battle exhausted but replaced by pure caffeine. She hated energy drinks but found them tolerable when washed down with strong coffee. A crash would hit eventually, but she could stave it off with more as required.

She came strolling into the operations room as casual as could be, her eyes just visible through the designer shades she had been allowed to wear. They were bright pink that day and narrowed into an inquisitive glare to match the catlike grin she wore habitually.

"Goooood morning, bossman." she near-purred, practically drawling the words in her Los Angeles accent. "I didn't get a chance to say hi yesterday, figured I would see how you're holding up."

@Rhona W

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Ximena Huang
Tarxien, Malta

"Hmm, about two years now I think? But I would have to check for an exact date."

Had it really been that long since her life had turned to ash? Ximena sipped her beer as she ruminated, letting the taste play across her tongue. It was sweeter than she preferred, never having gotten into lagers, but when in Malta do as the Maltese do.

"Admittedly, I've not done much since joining. Patrols mostly, training pilots for different countries, that sort of thing. It'll be nice to see some real action again."

Shattered had been wasting a top pilot on teaching rookies how to joust, probably because they didn't trust her. She couldn't blame them, but nevertheless she was glad they got their heads out of their asses.

"I heard that our new team is already down two planes and one pilot, so hopefully Malta turns out to be more exciting than it looks right now."

@Finetales

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Fuka Nakano
Matter Dei Hospital, Msida

Perhaps it wasn't her place to ask such a question, or maybe she should have approached it with more tact, but Fuka felt entitled to an answer. She was one of the few people who could understand Kat, after all. How many people had list an integral part of themselves like they had, and of that select group how many had lost it in battle? They were maimed not by a car crash or a freak accident but through violence, wounded warriors who kept fighting because it was their purpose.

"I know just how you feel." she said, taking the offered seat. "I'm left-handed, and I still try to brush my teeth before attaching my arm. I suppose I should be grateful that I'm able to fly. They told me that everyone adjusts differently, that I might not function as well as I would like. I guess we're just better than most."

Fuka glanced towards Freyja as she entered, giving her a nod.

"From what I hear the people on those boats owe you big time." she said. "Good going."

Who would have thought that the big bad Valkryie, the bad bitch who sent N/UN sailors to watery graves, would find herself on humanitarian missions? Probably not even Freyja herself. Fuka wondered whether her change in allegiance had been due to morals or simple expediency, but that question went unasked.

"Hey, if you haven't paid dues already we can take care of it here. Ask the doctors for a bonesaw and in five minutes we can slice off a body part of your choosing."

Ximena Huang
Tarxien, Malta

"You're probably right." Ximena chuckled. "I guess we'll find out."
+++
Ximena had always loved going fast. Ever since she was a girl she had craved speed, whether it be horses on her family's ranch or the Ural motorcycle her father had bought secondhand. Unsurprisingly, as she got older she got more advanced, slaloming sports cars, speedboats, and eventually, planes. Hurtling forward at hundreds or thousands of miles an hour gave her a high unmatched by anything on Earth; the fine control she had to exert contrasted against the terrifying knowledge that one wrong move would turn her into a red stain. Her hands wanted to shake but she couldn't let them, the blood pounding in her ears deafened the roar of the engines, her survival instinct begged her to slow down but she always told it to shut the fuck up and enjoy the ride.

The scooter she was toodling about on wasn't enough to force her into that state of primal excitement, not even close. The little Euro-bike was pushing 150 ccs if that, but what she expected? The rental place dealt with college kids on vacation, not adrenaline junkies fiending for their next high. It was good enough to get from points A to B, and pretty cheap to boot. Jefe pulled up alongside her new buddy, eyeing the bar.

"Pretoria, like South Africa? Interesting."

Perhaps some Afrikaners had gotten out when the ANC came to power and wanted to remind themselves of home. Whatever, a bar was a bar.

"Sounds good to me."

Ximena killed the engine and lowered the kickstand, stepping into the bar. It looked like more of a spot for locals than a visitor's joint which was nice, the gathered crowd looking more like staff from the various tourist traps than guests. It was clean without being sanitized, the floor recently swept but still stained from years of things being dropped on it. She already knew what the food would taste like, if the place bothered serving any: entirely satisfactory and still tasting of the freezer, not overpriced, trendy crap designed for social media.

It was the sort of joint Ximena could feel comfortable drinking- or at least as comfortable as she ever did. You didn't walk around with a knife in your boot and a hand cannon hidden in a specially made pocket because you were at peace with the universe.

"Hey there." she addressed the woman behind the bar breezily. "Can we get something local?"

Two bottles of Cisk lager were presented, Jefe taking one as she slid onto a stool.

"So Calico, how long have you been with Shattered?"

Hours Later

Fuka Nakano

She liked being a fighter jock, but Fuka had to admit she missed being shot at on the ground. Rounds flew overhead and ricocheted somewhere behind her as she switched from target to target, knocking them down like she were plinking soda cans. Moving with her crew was almost like being in the Rangers again; Valk covering her in a classic bounding maneuver. She took note of the pair the Swede had pointed out and reacted. One man had an old-school Ruger rifle but no idea how to use it, aiming much low considering his angle. Fuka put one in his chest before switching targets, shooting his pal in the gut.

Whatever breathing room she had bought was quickly spent by the appearance of another pair on the roof, Peacenink having to duck for cover as they opened up. She could see them only by the light of their muzzle flash, indistinct figures disappearing back into the darkness. Looking around to take account of the team's circumstances she spotted Aurelie heading for the light stack.

"Valk, Myk! Cover her! New girl, stick with me!"

Ximena Huang

The sabotuers didn't seem interested in taking their offer, which was a shame indeed. Jefe, always eager to please, opened up again with her machine gun. Her drinking buddy seemed bored now that all the targets were ducking out of the way, Ximena noting how she flicked her MP5 from 'for your eyes only' to 'to whom this may concern'.

"Have fun." she shouted back. "I'll follow behind you guys in a bit!"

She laid down fire as Calico dashed for the door, one genius sticking his arm up to blindfire just as bullets swept his window. It was hard to tell at that distance, but Ximena was pretty sure she had torn his arm off at the wrist.

Whoops.

She snickered cruelly, keeping the carnage coming. She could see a hint of movement as someone crouchwalked from one window to another, the very top of their head bobbing in and out of view. Ximena didn't bother aiming for such a tiny target, instead letting a burst of .300 Blackout chew through the thin wall and whichever mechanic was behind it.

"Come and get some you fucking traitors, I'm right here! I'll do this shit all night!

It was probably karma for her to be fighting 'traitors' since she herself was one, but that was a problem for the future. In the meantime she had good, solid cover in the form of a concrete barrier and a thick lightpost base and about fifty rounds in her current belt. It was a recipe for a fun time, but not exactly what she had signed up for when she defected.

@Rhona W @Finetales @Letter Bee @Damo021

Shattered Steel - An Ace Combat/Project Wingman/etc inspired aircraft-based RP

Fuka Nakano
March 13th, 2014
Malta International Airport

"Well consider your mission accomplished. From what I hear, that thing's a wreck destined for the junk heap."

Fuka snickered at the black humor, even as she sized Kat up like a tiger encountering a rival. It was just second-nature at this point, she analyzed people who seemed dangerous and broke them down into compartments. Kitten was immense, an inch taller than Fuka herself and broad as all hell to boot. It wasn't a body type suited to long rucks or rapid insertion raids but there was no doubt that she could throw a punch...and take one as well, judging by her looks. Like she said, Kat had been chewed up long before she arrived in Malta.

Some of the details had been beyond Fuka's reach but the gist was all there in the personnel files. Rich girl from the royals got kidnapped by the Commie Mob and then bounced around the world in the aftermath of the Heavenfall, lost her eye and gained a bunch of scars and somewhere along the way she got saved by Heartbreak. Depending on how you looked at it, she was either incredibly lucky or unlucky.

Her scars were more impressive looking, but it wasn't like Fuka was any slouch in that department. The reconstructive surgery she had done (really more for her parent's sake than her own) left telltale marks speckled across her cheek and brow-and of course she was down an arm.

"Speaking of scars, I've got an insensitive question. Do you ever feel your eye? Rather, do you feel it hurt even though it's gone?"

Her arm plagued her even now. She could feel pins-and-needles as if she had merely slept on it, the sensation so vivid that she would have sworn there was still flesh and blood under the mechanical casing. Some days she woke up and was momentarily surprised to find nothing but a stump.
---------------

Ximena Huang
March 13th, 2014
Malta International Airport

"I forgot you speak Mandarin in Singapore." Ximena noted, retrieving her lighter and a half-smoked cigarette. She paused to light the stub, taking the smoke into her lungs before letting it pass through her nose. "Guess that means I can't shittalk behind your back."

Her own crooked grin had widened, Jefe already moving for the door.

"I've never been here before, but Google tells me we're four klick away from the biggest city on the island so I'm sure we can figure it out. You wanna walk, or see about renting scooters?"

@Finetales @Rhona W