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Ximena Huang

It was more or less what she expected. Shattered didn't play for keeps, at least not in the way she was used to. Call it barbaric or unsporting, but she didn't consider an enemy neutralized until they were on the ground with their hands up or falling out of the sky in a blackened wreck. She wasn't so berserk that she'd chase someone to the ends of the earth in neglect of the mission itself, but not pursuing when possible? That struck her as odd; imprudent even.

But she had jumped ship from the outfit she was used to, so she had to learn the new rules.

"Understood, boss." she nodded, adjusting her glasses. "I'll prove my worth."

That's why she was here.

Someone interrupted them, a pilot Jefe recognized from the files but had yet to meet.

"A pleasure, Stingray. I thought I spied a fellow seabird. It'll be fun to fly with you."

She was curious to see how the Seahawk handled in combat. She had never flown the thing, but as far as she knew the Nighthawk was no knife-fighter. Upgrades were all well and good, but until Ximena watched it work she would be skeptical.

The same could be said for Stingray herself. She wasn't the youngest in the squadron (Mykhalio was a story XImena simply did not understand) but she was allegedly another whiz kid, which meant Ximena was-skeptical was too strong a word. It was more that she was waiting to be impressed.

Hell, with her natural prodigy vibe and her rich-kid-politician's-daughter background, Ayvee was a miniature Fuka. At least one of them didn't have a pole up their ass.

-------

Soon enough she was taxiing out onto the runway, sunglasses replaced by her helmet visor. She followed along with the others, taking off and falling into formation just above her flightmates.

"Jefe signing in. Unless you've got other plans for me, Captain, I'm going to ride nice and high in the cloud cover away from the group as we get close to target. They'll pick up on you guys before me, I'll rush in and hit their radar before turning around to help with the actual fight."

Fuka Nakano

Fuka wasted no time suiting up, as ready and willing as ever to get airborne. This time she wasn't playing around with SLAM-ERs and stationary targets, oh no. Scott had seen fit to use her properly, sticking the Black Bunny with a bunch of air-to-air missiles and wishing her happy hunting.

Perfect. Any other role was, while perhaps important in the moment, ultimately a waste. Recon, surgical strikes, the destruction of enemy assets and supply lines, all key components of warfare but Fuka was first and foremost a Ranger. She did Direct Action: raid camps and kill people. They said that when all you had was a hammer everything looked like a nail, and that was true. They didn't mention that a lot of problems could be solved by hammering.

She had swapped the M4 for laser-guided explosives, but at the end of the day she was still a hammer.

"Cobalt 3, comms good." she called out as she followed Jefe in taking off. "I'm ready and waiting. Sticking close to you for the time being, flight lead."
It's called "being autistic" and it's why we're all here.


I'm not quite at that level lol
I hope Rhona's not expecting that level of detail from me lmfao



Loadout for mission

Jefe
  • Full load for main gun EMPTY
  • Two AIM-120 AMRAAMs
  • Two One AIM-9 Sidewinders
  • Two One FT-2 guided bomb


Peacenik
  • Full load for main gun EMPTY
  • 9 AIM-120 AMRAAMs
  • AIM-9 Sidewinders
  • Fuel tank

Tank done, working on crew





Should be done, barring minor changes I might make/grammar edits
I'm thinking our first theater of operations might be in Central Asia, against Soviet remnants.


Ex-Red Army tank tugs his collar awkwardly
Tank done, working on crew





I’ll get working on the K2 crew soon
Ximena Huang

Ximena didn't like the ground plan at all, but unfortunately she didn't have a good argument against it. Any operation that involved her loitering while some jerk with a Strela searched for her signal was a bad one...but that's just how things went. If the ground crew got cut to pieces, the operation was a bust, and stopping the ground crew from getting cut to pieces meant waiting for targets of opportunity to rear their big, ugly heads.

There was something nagging at her about the setup, but unfortunately there was no planning around it. It was probably nothing anyway and yet-

It nagged at her because everything nagged at her, all the small details presenting themselves as glaring risks. That's what being a spy did; it taught you how to catastrophize. She hated living things undone, every hanging thread a potential problem down the line. She needed them tied down or snipped off, accounted for in some way.

------
She figured it was best to bring the question to Heartbreak privately as opposed to weighing everyone down with heavy details. Instead she caught him on the way out of the locker room, her own helmet tucked under her arm.

"Lieutenant-Colonel, not to make mountains out of molehills, but-"

She shrugged apologetically, well-aware she was doing just that.

"I've never seen flown a combat mission with this outfit. I don't have the regulations down pat, and it occurred to me that once we start knocking out their SAMs and blowing up their planes, the OpFor might panic. If they do turn and start beating a hasty retreat to Libya or wherever they came from, how should we handle it-?

It had been against protocol in Lucky Dog to let the enemy escape if doing so didn't interfere with the safety of the pilot or the wider flight. If you were scrambled against bandits you returned only once you were out of ammo or targets, whichever came last. Shattered Steel seemed nicer, for lack of a better word. Not pushovers or anything, but she wasn't sure if they adhered to her 'it flies, it dies' mentality or if they still held onto some of that old knights of the air chivalry. Seeing Scott's reaction to Brightspark last night, she thought it wise to check with him before she started chasing retreating targets.

@Rhona W
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