Welcome to Gaia! ::

Arcadia Langdon let loose a genuine giggle when the ice cream flew. It had been so unexpected. She covered her mouth near immediately, and it died shortly. Still, it had slipped out.

The day of their first honest mission came far too slowly for one Pilot Arcadia Langdon, but when it finally came to be, she was fully awake and looking particularly lively. She simply radiated an excited energy.

With the news of the second DEMONIX, Steven and Fred looked as though they had seen a ghost. As the only two pilots present, horrible memories of their encounter with the first came rushing back. Particularly they remembered how many of their fellow pilots and friends died when the monster was fired. Steven glanced quickly over towards Fred, who was giving him the same look. Fred, who had been thinking of such pleasant memories, realized he was forgetting to breathe.
“Sir, what sort of forces are we going to be going up against?” Steven asked as he finally overcame his shock. “It is safe to assume that on top of the station’s garrison, the Drathonians are likely to have a hell of a lot more ships guarding this thing.”
Next it was Fred who spoke up. “On that point, Sir. I got the part where Green and Red Squadron are the only ones able to get close enough to hit this thing, but what support are we going have, and how far are they coming in with us?” the Irishman asked.

'Well, the news did make the first DEMONIX thing look like a big one. Something tells me this 'under construction' one is going to go active on us or something. Like in the movies.' he thought to himself. Johnathan seriously doubted the odds of success already; he knew the capabilities of the Saber fairly well by now, but they expected them to go in, with no other support other than each other. "Sir, what is preventing the Hymn from properly targeting this second DEMONIX ship? Are we incapable of eliminating these obstructions?"

Johnathan, being himself, already came up with what he believed to be the answer. It wasn't good.

Seeing that the floor was now open to questions Siberia felt it was time to address what was most likely Red Squadron's most pressing issue. “Sir Plutanovicz, while it looks like not many people here had are around from the confrontation with the original DEMONIX I assume from the lack of question most people have some knowledge of its capabilities. Therefore I'm sorry to say my boys don't, and if at all possible a quick shake down of what we're going in against would be appreciated.”
–
Lance Corporal Jozef “Red Slovakia” Kocur, wingman to the late Red Mongolia, looked at the newbie beside him. Trying hard to remember his name all the pilot could come up with was that is was something French and the newbie just happened to be a higher rank than him.
“Oi, Françoise, I'm sure the Captain's given you the run down, but remember your out of the chain of command for now. The Admiralty trusts you, but the Squadron doesn't, least not yet. Me and Mongalia was pretty mobile, right?” The man smiled as he remembered his old comrade, the wound was getting old and the Squadron was finally beginning to recall mostly the good time. “Why he died really, we did some crazy stuff together. So they won't mind if we try to get a bit hot shot in the middle of action. But, you will call s**t out or we'll both be getting hell from the tops – that is if we both get back alive.” As he finished the pilot made a tiny nod towards Siberia and Poland.

“Hmm?” Sean hummed in response. With the main Admiral’s attention turned on him, the Vice Admiral sat up in his seat and resettled his face. “Well ma’am, it is not so much of a problem as it is a minor concern. Mostly I am just trying to mentally prepare myself, and get myself back into my old frame of mind from when I was a navigator. There are a lot more ships to direct this time around, and a Hell of a lot more opposition. Nothing to worry about though, I was the chess champion down at the VA on Ovid, so my mind is as sharp as it ever was.” The aging man smirked a little before drawing up his intense façade.
“The Admiral is watching Sean. You can’t do much good if you get shipped back early for failing to perform.”

Johnathan nodded to Istvan's answer. It made him want to ask even more questions, but then the man seemed to be getting sleepy. Old men needed their sleep, so he definitely wasn't going to bug him for more answers. Again, he kept quiet, and started to think about the image boards. How was that thread he started up doing anyways?

Istvan made his way over to Javier, Surprisingly spry for his age, and obviously not needing the cane he carried with him. Until it was made apparent why he had the implement- He whacked Javier Sharply with it. Not hard enough to injure, but definitely enough to sting. "Do you not listen? We have the Hymn's entire loadout of fighters supporting you, as well as fighters from other ships in the battlegroup. And did you forget theat we are the largest battlegroup in the Terran Armada? Quit your bitching, Young one!"

Satisfied with his little rant, Istvan returned to his place, but on his way, he grabbed Steven by the collar and dragged him up to the front as well. "As far as the actual layout of the battlefield, we can't give you that information since we don't know it. Your Leader here- And yes, he's in charge of both squadrons today- will formulate a plan and relay it to you once you see the battlefield."

******

"From what I have read of your service records and general history, you are the man most suited to carry out this operation. I have already shown that, despite advanced programming and computerized abilities, I lack the necessary experience to coordinate large forces. However, do not hesitate to call upon me, I can give you any information you desire from any ship in the Battlegroup."

Evelyn Kept her chair toward Sean, but her attention seemed to divert elsewhere. "We will be leaveing FTL in approximately thirty seconds. Warnings begin In 5." the Gynoid informed the Vice Admiral.

******

Just as Evelyn had predicted, the 'entering Realspace Soon' warning began to call, the lights flashing to red for a few moments, accompanied with a soothing voice informing everyone of the reversion. In the hangar bay, many of the Scimitar squadrons began mounting and starting the fighters, ready to launch the moment the Hymn Exited Hyperspace.

Siberia grunted a bit at the announcement that Steven would be in charge of both Squadrons for the attack. Even if the man had superiority and experience, Red Squadron was his squadron and it hurt a bit to have command taken away from his hands. Though, with the Hymn already re-entering into Realspace that all had to go out of the window, there was no time to have a chat about the impoliteness of taking someone's command right out from under them even at a temporary level.
Turning his head slightly towards Steven, Siberia gave the other commander a small salute, letting him know that he himself and Red Squadron would follow his orders.

–
Hungary held back a belch as the briefing seemed to be coming to an end. He didn't quite like that old Siberia had lost command. Even if their commander seemed to be taking it into stride. Though, what made the drunkard of a pilot's eyebrows really raise was the expression on their Seconds face, Poland, he seemed just about ready to burst and the only thing holding him back was that Siberia had given his consent.
Most of the other squad members seemed to have taken up the same kind of mood as Poland had too, and that didn't bode well for such a serious operation. Deciding something had to be done the large pilot elbowed Ruze. “Oi, your one of the more laid back ones out of us here, you think you can say anything after we launch to get them to calm down? But I doubt all of them will be one-hundred percent.” Hungary kept his voice at a whisper. “I would do it but I'm worried about that fool Albania, without the old man directly in control he'll probably think his leash is gone.”