With the //Galactica// called in to assist Tauron, the Wolfpack, on CAP, gets their first taste of combat.
Location: Space, Tauron Airspace
Related Scenes: None
Plot: Operation: Bullhorn
Scene Number: 705
For some, it's a return home. But not in the way they envisioned in the list. For others, it's a glimpse of the war in a way they've not yet seen. Tauron. One of the hardest hit colonies thus far, alongside Caprica. They adopted the cylon technology so heavily that when the machines turned... The Galactica has found itself in orbit of the colony. Every so often -- when the battlestar is in the right spot -- one can see bright flashes on the surface in the Atray province. Thus far, Wolfpack has not been dispatched to provide CAS. What they are doing, however, is flying CAP. A vital role, but one that can leave pilots feeling antsy and wishing they could engage.
Today, it's a handful of Wolfpack members on CAP. Sometime during second -- Bravo -- shift. The Raptors have taken off, the Vipers have launched from their tubes. No more is it just shakedown flights over Scorpia. This may very well be the real deal. Live rounds in weapons, DRADIS checked and double-checked for accuracy. The voices in CIC over comms are tense. At any moment, this could turn to the Galactica's first true test.
One Antonie Niemec is strapped into the pilot's chair in a Raptor, in full gear. Sure, it may have limited atmo and helmets aren't necessary... but when combat could erupt? You take precautions. The newer, unbloodied model flies smooth and she keeps light on the controls as they cruise along the expansive length of the Galactica. It's a path to provide overwatch for the Vipers that make their own routes around the massive ship.
"Systems good?" This, to her ECO, and off comms. "I know all the checks on deck came up green, but you know how these things can be." Great in the shop, but finicky in the field.
Calliope is kitted up in her flight suit and gear, seated in the front of her Raptor. Flying around. She might've had to engage in some deep breathing exercises before take-off, but she's level enough now that she's in control of a bird. "Should've come to the party last night, Tauron," she comments to Priya in her backseat. "I get the feeling we aren't going to be able to get our drink on hard-core for awhile."
Niemec seems to have drawn the short straw today, and was saddled with the Canceronian Lieutenant as her backseater. On the upside, Julia's been fairly quiet thus far over comms; the task of sorting out the updated control layout and keeping an eye on DRADIS appears to have her full attention. "Peachy," crackles her voice over the wireless, lopsided smile hidden behind her helmet's faceplate.
Van sits in the cockpit of his pristine Viper II, a menu picture from a popular Navy bar back in Hyperion (now both bombed out and under water) taped to the control panel in a mostly-out-of-the-way place. His right leg aches, not because of any actual pain in the muscle or bone, but because the last time he was on CAP, it was shredded by shrapnel and a hard landing. Keeping one hand on the control stick, his other hand roams around the controls, checking this one and that, "This is Milkman, I'm getting an intermittent error in my navigation lights. Nothing critical, just another thing for the new-ship-fix-it list." Indeed, anyone looking out the cockpit of their ship can see the lights at the wingtips, nose, and tail of his Viper are blinking on and off in a seemingly random pattern.
Since kitting up and strapping in, Priya has been uncharacteristically silent, her jaw set and tight. She warns and corrects as Calliope takes control of the bird, checking and rechecking systems. "This may be shocking to you, Caprica, but I didn't feel much like partying last night," she says, voice a little tight. Checking a few of the sensors, she monitors their systems.
Eva, "Cherry" at the moment, looks over, spying Van's viper as she comes around to the dog leg of their patrol. "Want me to nudge you with my ship? Sometimes all you need is a good hard knock to show the machine who's boss." She's just being helpful, "Also, it'll get that new ship thing over with." Sort of like a car, that you baby until the moment it gets its first ding, and then you just say 'frak it.'
"Hooter, I'm bringing us around on Milkman. Get the cam on his ship so we have a recording for the deck crew." This is offered to the Lieutenant at the ECO station before Niemec follows through. A bit more pressure on the tyllium drive and they're off their predetermined route to aim for the viper. "Milkman, Squeak. Copy on the lights. We'll get it on video for the crew." She doesn't thumb off the comms before snorting, faintly, at Eva's contribution. "I don't think we need to piss off the chief this early in, Cherry."
So far, Tauron's airspace (at least in this region) is quiet. There are some flashes far in the distance; likely the navy engaging on its own. But the Galactica hasn't been called in to assist. Yet.
Julia's gaze drags briefly toward the sliver of windscreen she can see from her cramped quarters, then back to the task at hand. "Copy, Squeak," she quips curtly over the wireless, gloved fingers playing over the panel controls just above eye level with a couple of blips in confirmation. "Gotta say, ain't never been within spitting distance of somethin' this pretty." She's talking about the raptor. Probably.
"Better smile, or they'll name you No Fun," Calliope says to Priya. "Or call sign you. Or...whatever they call it. It's a whole thing, I guess." She's chatty to fly with, for better or worse. Her eyes strain toward the flashes in the distance. Not that she can make anything more of them than anyone else can.
"I like the shiny new ship thing, sir. It means that I've been doing things right." Van considers the rest of the advice, however, although he responds to Niemec first, "Copy Squeak. I'll keep it straight and slow so you can keep up, sir." He holds his Viper steady for a minute or so as the lights continue to flash on and off, then he notes, "Milkman attempting percussive maintenance." He then reaches up and gives the control panel a hard thump with the heel of his hand. The lights flicker once more, and then go out, and the Picon pilot cranes his neck to look outside, "It looks like percussive maintenance fixed it, at least temporarily."
"There are probably worse names, Sunshine," Priya points out, listening to the information on the comms. She does crack a smile. "It's a good looking ship. No scratches yet." All of the ships. She doesn't look towards the flashes in the distance, pointedly focusing on all the readings in from of her.
"Can't say I have, either, Hooter. Tauron's navy hasn't been able to afford anything new since... well, long before this all even began." When you've been fighting your own wars, well. Harder to prep for the big one. Niemec gets the Raptor on a level with Van's Viper. When he performs his 'maintenance,' she snorts faintly. The comms are flipped on: "Milkman, Squeak. You're no longer our resident Saturnalia decoration." She, however, does keep looking in the distance. Hands tighten, briefly, at the controls. "Wish we could do more." This, off comms, and perhaps only loud enough for Julia to hear.
"Cherry, Milkman. We're all sirs up here to somebody." a beat, "They even threw in a few Ensigns, just for you." Eva adjusts her trajectory, keeping apace with Van's Viper, taking her time to learn the ship. This is her first time actually in the bird, so who knows what might happen. She was not one of the ones lucky enough to get a few shakedown runs. More seriously, she continues, "Raptor 2 (that would be Priya's bird), can you get any sort of read on what's going on in that combat zone?" Since Niemec is filming, she won't interrupt her.
"It's frakking huge," Calliope replies to Priya. Like she's not sure whether she approves of this or you. "You can barely tell you're flying until it kicks into a jump. Weirds me out. Now this..." She reaches down to give her seat a slap. "...I can totally deal with. Even if I could stand some more leg room. And maybe a cupholder." Despite the attempt to be glib, her eyes never leave those distant flashes. "You think they're going to send us in? To whatever that is?" Though she quiets down when Eva actually asks them a query over the comm, flitting a brief look back around to Priya. Maybe curious how the instruments read right now, herself.
Julia continues fiddling with the camera controls for a few moments, though does answer her pilot after a beat, "Your call, sir." It's clear by her tone of voice, muffled as it is behind her helmet and without the shipboard radio to help it carry, how she feels about that. To say she's itching for a fight is an understatement. Her wireless is thumbed on then. "Lookin' good from here, Milkman. Nothin' a good slap won't fix."
"Smooth as can be." Despite the technological hick-ups amid the brand new ship's flight path. "I'll glue you a cup holder on," Priya promises, cracking a slight smile. It might be upside down though. "It's war. And gods I hope so." There is a dark hint of delight at the thought before the comms sound and she is back on task. "Raptor 2 to Cherry. Running a scan now to see if we can get anything..." Frowning, she trails off for a moment before offering into the comms. "Hard to tell from this distance. DRADIS is full of combative units." A hint of a smirk touches her lips, "If I had to guess... looks like colonial forces are keeping the frakkers busy at the moment."
"I know, Cherry, but I like to get in at least one sir so that no one can complain." There might even be a little humor in Van's voice, although the wireless washes a lot of it out. He nods to himself, "Copy Squeak. The drinking light is off." He runs over the controls once more, then looks to the flashes in the distance. "I'd love to be there, but every job is important. If any toasters are looking to jump Galactica, we're it short of her flak batteries."
"Everyone's sitting alert, Milkman," Niemec chimes in to his words. "We'd be it for five minutes, at most." Alert Five crews are sitting by, after all. "I'm confident we could hold the line." Easy to say in a brand new bird with the only signs of the enemy small blips on a radar screen and flashes in the distance. "Milkman, Squeak. Lights look solid, but we'll get the tape to the deck." And the raptor is being pulled back away from the jig's viper and back to its previous path. The woman does lean, briefly, to look along the hull of the Galactica herself. "Damn fine ship," she notes to Julia.
Calliope nods some to herself at Priya's report. And, off-comm, comments a wry, "Thanks. For the cup holder. I think I still have some of my tea tumblers from back home." She does not comment on her eagerness to jump into the fray. Or lack of eagerness. "Least it looks like we're frakking them up out there."
"Keep an eye out for me, Raptor 2. We don't want to get caught with our pants down as we're passing over this behemoth." That would be the Galactica. Eva's tone is moderated, controlled, as she addresses the pair, clearly acknowledging that this is probably the closest the two rooks in that raptor have been to actual combat. And it doesn't help that the pilot, from the sound of her accent, is from the planet currently under fire, "No one is going to complain out here, Milkman. What you're probably going to hear people complaining about is what happened when you threw a Sir out and nobody knew who the frak you're talking to, and then things went sideways." Her voice is not as nice now. Van is a Jig and should know better.
"Copy that, Cherry. Eyes peeled and pants up," Pryia promises over the comms, her Tauron accent thick and unmistakable. She nods at Calliope as she guides them into their flight path, keeping her focus the best that she can. Off-comms, Calliope can see her anxiously shift. "It's not going to be pretty Caprica. Tape and glue at best." It is not one of her skills. Duct tape and cardboard.
"Flight, Raptor Two," Calliope chirps over the comms. "Acknowledged. We're, uh, on it." She doesn't quite get through all that with perfect inflection control. But she manages for most of it. Off-mic, a snort to Priya. "What, you're not going to break out the welding torch for me? Where is the love?"
"Sure," Julia replies to the pilot off to her left, in reference to the 'damn fine ship'. The camera is switched off and she returns to idly studying the distant blips on DRADIS. "If it was me in charge though sir, we'd be goin' in and gettin' shit done, not sittin' around here with our thumbs up our asses." Good thing she's not in charge, then. Also a good thing that wasn't said over the radio.
Van takes his lumps from each Captain, his lips compressing, but no comment made in response except for a simple, "Acknowledged, Squeak. Acknowledged Cherry." He scans the DRADIS and takes up his visual scanning as well.
Priya snorts a soft huff of laughter off comm, glancing towards her pilot. "Only way a tech is going to let me anywhere near this beauty with a welding torch is if there is a toaster in it," she points out to Calliope.
Eva's said her piece, and she's happy to return to her patrol, dipping down first, so that Van can watch her six, as the bulk of the battlestar is now blocking her visual on the combat in the distance. It's not as if they don't have DRADIS, of course, but it's just a pilot sort of thing to always want to have either eyes on your target, or your wingman watching your back. "Milkman, want to take the lead when we come around?"
"Can't say I don't wish we could," Niemec offers to the ECO behind her. "But I think the last thing we should do is force our way in. Taurans don't take very well to that sort of thing." Too much rule by other colonies. Let them ask for help. Speaking of...
The CIC comes in over the wire: "Flight, we've gotten a call from Tauron's CAG. The Cylons have called in reinforcements and they've asked us to intercept. You'll be seeing it on DRADIS soon, more details incoming." And so the ECO's stations do light up. The contacts are on a trajectory for the dogfight already in progress, but the four ships have plenty of time to intercept. "Alert is getting to their stations, Flight."
Well, shit. Niemec grabs at the controls and begins to pull around; she'll wait for Julia to give specifics, but she knows the general direction. "Flight, Squeak. Raptor Two, on our six. Cherry, point." She may just be taking charge, but it's nothing special; just a nudge for getting everyone in their line.
Calliope laughs. "Maybe we can score a head off one of their robots on the ground. Use it as a punch bowl." She listens to the exchange between Eva and Van rather like she's taking notes in her head. As for the ship, she just keeps it in formation with the others. Steady as she goes, nothing fancy. Niemec's announcement makes her tense, though. And mutter, "Frak." Which at least she does off-mic. She does manage a, "Flight, Raptor Two. Copy. On your six, Squeak." Her course adjustments. More hastily than is really fluid, but the jerking isn't notable outside the Raptor. It probably is notable to Priya, though.
"Roger, Cherry, I'll take the lead on the next..." and then Van cuts off for the call from the CIC. In the wake of it, he merely notes, "Milkman, I'll take tail-end charlie, Squeak." Meaning he'll cover everyone's sixes. "Raptor Two, Milkman, don't forget to keep an eye on your DRADIS," he figures that the more experienced crew of Raptor One doesn't need the reminder, "Alert Five is still five minutes from launch, and a lot can happen in five minutes out here. We don't want anyone sneaking in behind us and going after Galactica."
Canceronians know a thing or two about being oppressed. Most recently, in fact, by Tauron. Julia however, chooses this moment to keep her trap shut about politics. Her gaze begins to wander away from her console as boredom creeps in, then snaps into focus once more when she hears the voice over the wireless. "Flight, Hooter. Rendezvous at one three three carom four niner. Squeak, weapons warming up and on standby." Flip, flip, flip go a few switches followed by gloved fingers skimming the controls for the weapons console.
Eva's attention shifts to the transmission from CIC, and she quickly readjusts, as Niemec calls out the flight order. She doesn't have any problem with the raptor pilot taking the lead, given that that's sort of what they're supposed to do, what with their better DRADIS and full array of sensors. "Galactica, CAP is moving in to intercept" Once she gets the positioning from Julia, she maneuvers with the crew to the intercept point.
"I'd rather have a hole through it than be looking at it's ugly mug as a punch bowl," Priya admits with a dark note of humor. The hint of ease that had crept in abruptly leaves her as the call comes over the comms. "Milkman, Raptor Two. Thanks for the reminder - we will keep on it." Her glove slide over the console as she glances towards Calliope. "Might get our chance sooner than expected, Caprica. Remember to breath," she says off comm. On comm she follows Raptor One's lead. "Raptor Two. Weapons warming up and on standby."
"Milkman acknowledges one three three carom four niner, Hooter." Van smoothly adjusts his course, following in the wake of the trio of other ships, his Viper hanging out slightly above and to the left of the Raptors. He reaches over and yanks on the charging lever for his KEWs, "Milkman weapons hot, Squeak. Scanning for targets."
And even at the 'slow' speed of Raptor (which isn't really, all told), it's not long before they do intercept. Before the trio of raiders can get remotely near the Tauran forces already engaged. The raiders themselves look quite beat up; they've seen combat in the past. Right now, however? They're adjusting trajectory for the four ships from the Galactica.
Niemec settles their Raptor roughly at Eva's nine, arming the missile bank. "Raptor One, weapons hot." There is an alarm as they're targeted and she lifts a hand to silence it. "Hooter, got that? I don't have a visual yet, so they may be on our tail."
Calliope was holding her breath, and she lets it out in a huff at Priya's words. "Thanks, Tauron." Her voice is a touch shaky now, and she takes another beat for breathing exercises before comm'ing. "Flight, Raptor Two. We are weapons hot."
Eva shifts course, as the Cylons pop onto her DRADIS. Her eyes do a quick recon of their projected trajectory and she breaks right, moving to intercept one of the Cylons heading towards Raptor 2. Clearly she's chosen to make sure that the Ensigns have their backup. "Don't worry, Pants, I got you."
"Got it, Squeak. Three incoming; got one at ten o'clock who's got a firing solution on us. Two on the rookie bus drivers. Think you can get a bead on one of 'em while I keep this asshole busy?" Her lower lip's caught between her teeth as she grasps the firing mechanism for the chain gun, adrenaline lending her focus.
"Got your six, Capri," Priya says, a not of tension edging her voice along with something like anticipation. Checking the DRADIS, she frowns as they lead up to intercept. "We've got two on us. Acknowledged and appreciated, Cherry."
"Milkman, contact! Three marks at ten o'clock!" The Picon pilot's tenor is tense, sharp, as he repeats the contact report, but Van smoothly lifts his Viper higher above the formation, looking to auger in behind one of the incoming Raiders, "They're in Raiders, so target acquisition should be simple." Which it isn't if the enemy is flying Vipers too, "Milkman working on their tail-end."
Julia scoffs loudly, off comms, as she doesn't even graze the raider's paint. "Frak me with a two by four," she mutters into her helmet, re-scanning DRADIS before adjusting the targeting on her chaingun. "No more mister nice guy. Squeak, switching targets to see if I can take down one of Raptor Two's bogeys."
The Raptor hosting Niemec and Julia rocks with a hit to its flank. "Well, there goes the paint job," the pilot mutters, even as she checks her aiming on one of the Raiders on Calliope. There's no glance back to the ECO, but she nods. "Copy that, Hooter." The comms are flipped open: "Drake, hold steady. We're trying to handle your tail. Keep an eye on DRADIS." Likely for any more incoming.
The raiders, in turn, seem to keep on their targets. One on the tail of Squeak's raptor and the others coming in harder on Calliope. Maybe they see the missiles as a threat. Maybe they're just operating on 'weaker prey' syndrome. Or maybe the damn AI doesn't know what to do about New Vipers yet.
Eva moves in, her approach rather aggressive, as she zeroes in the cylon closest to her original position. She manages only a light hit though, but you won't hear any cursing from her. She'll just swing back around to continue the attack on the cylon she started with.
Rather than try a high-deflection shot on the tail-end Cylon, Van zips out at an acute angle, then flicks the attitude controls in his left hand and slams on the rudder pedal with his right foot, grunting in mild pain as he does. The Viper flips end for end sideways, a motion that could only happen in a flat spin in atmosphere, but here it puts Van right behind the Raider -- even if he's still flying in the other direction -- and he cuts loose with a burst of fire. Sadly, his lights take that moment to begin to blink again, and the Raider jinks aside, only taking a glancing hit. "Raptor Two, Milkman, watch your six. I'll try to drive it around to your left."
"FRAK!" At least Calliope keeps her squawking off-mic. But squawk she does, as her Raptor gets hit. She does some whipping around into a more defensive posture. "We still alive, Tauron?" she calls back to Priya, as she warms her missles up.
It's a noise that is echoed from the back of the Raptor as Priya jostles in her seat. "Not hard enough to kill us yet," she calls back cheerfully, fingers flipping over the comms as she responds. "Copy that, Milkman. And yes sir. Eyes peeled." Eying her console she shifts her positioning to retarget one of their tails.
Eva briefly catches the flash of one of the Cylons being taken out by the concerted efforts of Van and the raptor crew, but there's still life left in the one she's attacking, so she's not going to celebrate anything yet. Last time pays for all, she hopes.
One missile let fly and while it's not a direct hit, the raider loses a fair bit of its stability as one of its wings is all-but torn away. The other raider on Calliope and Priya is outright destroyed. Between Julia and Eva scoring hits along the sides and the direct shot that Van gets down its cockpit? All it does now is add a few more scrapes and pings to the brand new ships these Wolfpack members occupy.
"Flight, Squeak. Good hits. I'm going to try to shake this one on my tail. Drake, how are you holding up?" Hard to tell with her own work how the other raptor is holding up. "I'm not seeing anything on DRADIS," she offers, to Julia, flight comms off. "You?" And Niemec angles around, aiming towards the other raider on Calliope; missile armed and ready, but not released yet.
Van is pressed back into his seat as he pushes his throttle to the stops, darting back toward the fray. He puts a burst to the right of the Raider he's chasing, aiming to force it further to the left of Raptor Two, and then rolls his Viper 'up' on its wing and around to meet the dodging Raider. For an instant, the entire top portion of the Cylon ship is visible to the Picon, and his lips pull back from his teeth in a tight smile as his finger gently squeezes the trigger. The Viper shakes with the recoil, and the Raider very nearly comes apart. Even as pieces of debris skitter off his ship, Van notes, "Milkman, scratch one. Coming to help you, Raptor One." Pop... there goes one of the navigation lights on his left wing, hit by a piece of shrapnel. At least it's not blinking anymore.
Julia's shots hit this time, though it's somewhat feeble, all things considered. "Hey boss," she calls over her shoulder, "think you can get me a firing solution on that raider that's on our tail?" Eyes briefly on DRADIS to ensure they aren't being joined by any more unfriendlies, and then she shifts her focus to lining up a round of chaingun fire on their pursuer. "Negative on new contacts," she confirms quietly.
"Frak!" This time Calliope chirps it in a slightly happier way. Still alive. And one of their bandits is now dust. "Flight, Raptor Two. Evasive moves." Maneuvers? At least she is in evasive mode.
"One down." Priya flicks a few switches as Calliope goes into evasive maneuvers. "Retargetting on our last bogey."
Two down, one to go? It's a bunch of picking at the second one on Calliope and Priya that finally does it in. It doesn't break apart as much as its fellow, but it certainly does go dark and become rather listless. Floating along at speed. The one on Niemec and Julia? Looks unscathed. And seems to be a bit handier in flying.
The brunette pilot curses a bit and adjusts their trajectories. "I'll try to keep ahead of it," she offers to her ECO. "Open fire as you can." And then to the comms, flipping them on: "Milkman, Cherry, I'm going to try to lead it to you."
Eva is, now, mostly definately cursing, but she manages to keep it off the comms, swinging back around, avoiding the chunky remains of the second raider, before she moves into go after the final target. "Sorry about that, Pants. That's on me." She hasn't been taking good care of her designated bus, "Copy that, Squeak, heading towards you now."
Van lashes space around Niemec's attacker with high-caliber bullets, but only manages to clip a wing. He hauls back on the stick, darting away from the fray, off to Raptor One's nine o-clock. "Milkman, roger Squeak. Coming in from your nine." Indeed, he already has his bird flipping end-for-end and turning back into the fight. "Watch yourselves, people. One target, many attackers is dangerous. Don't run into friendlies."
"Flight, Raptor Two, we are good, we are totally good!" That was a little high-pitched, from Calliope. And maybe a little excited. She adjusts her targeting, steering even clearer of her fellow fighters. Taking Van's advice not to hit her compatriots to heart, maybe more than even hitting the Cylon.
"Gee, thanks for that, Milkman," Julia sounds off over the wireless. "If you weren't here to tell me, I'd never have known." She's still gunning for the cylon in their midst, though won't fire unless and until she has a clear shot.
"Copy that, engaging ECM," Priya reports over the comms, a huff of relief in her voice. She'll stall it out, if she can.
It's a little tricky to angle a Raptor so that rear-guns can hit a Raider, but this isn't Niemec's first sortie. And not her first in a Raptor. But it is her first in a Raptor that responds so readily and handles so well. Thus, she's able to not only get the bird up ahead enough to help Julia get the shot, but to also lead what has become their prey right into line for the other three to get their shots in as well.
"Galactica, Squeak," Antonie sounds a touch breathless, "Bandits are out, repeat, Bandits out. Requesting permission to return to barn." It takes a moment, but DRADIS is already registering their backup out in the field. The wirelo comes back on: "Flight, Galactica. Backup is taking over CAP duty. You're free to return. Any need for medical?" And here, the woman leans around to cast a look to Julia: "We good?" Once she has the clear, she flips in: "Galactica, Raptor One is good." The others can sound off their needs, if any.
Van presses his lips together again as someone else gives him a chewing out, and he holds his own fire for a long moment as he bores in. Pieces start to come off the Raider as it takes hit after hit, and then he finally squeezes his trigger, hammering with bullets as he flashes ever-closer. And then there's an explosion as a missile hits the target and it comes apart, leaving him flying through the debris. That's one way to make sure that he doesn't run into anyone else. "Milkman, scratch two. Just some scrapes on my own bird. The nav light glitch is back though. I'll cover six on the way back."
"You alive, Tauron?" Calliope asks Priya. Voice trilling with adrenaline. Once she's visually confirmed Priya is, indeed alive, she comms, "Flight, Raptor Two. Still good! That is. No injuries. I don't think the bus is dented too bad. Systems are still running green."
Julia gives her pilot a thumbs-up, once she's finished assisting with the straggler. Hers was a slightly anemic showing, but at least they're all still flying - and the cylons are not. "DRADIS is clear, boss. Returning weapons to standby." She reaches over to poke at something on an adjacent console, silencing the bleeping emanating from it. "Well, that was fun. We now return you to your regularly scheduled yawnfest."
Eva seems to have decided to play chicken with Squeak's raptor, as she comes on hot, coming close enough to flash a wolfish grin in the other pilot's direction, just before Neimec flips her bird around to give Hooter her shot and she throttles up, angling her viper to shoot up and over the raptor's back, her shot, along with the others obliterating the final cylon raider. "Pants, you still alive?" Once Calliope and Priya sound off, and Niemec alerts to the arrival of the replacement CAP, she heads back with the flight. "I'ma have a talk with that deck." That's the last, before the flight moves in to land. Safe and mostly sound.