Gatekeepers
Posted on Tue Apr 10th, 2018 @ 10:08pm by Lieutenant Lynsi Mason
Mission:
Weathering the Storm
Location: Hangar Deck
Blaze stifled away a yawn as she took another drink of her coffee, a skill that she had learned to do on the run a long time ago. It was her last ditch effort to inject some energy into her system before taking flight. Like any good emergency, Lynsi Mason had been about to turn in for the evening when she got the call to get back on duty. But when the your lion of a CAG tells you to get every bird in the air, she doesn’t have much room to argue.
As she made her way across the flight deck, her eyes skimmed over the PADD in her hand while simultaneously dodging the multitude of deck hands and mechanics that ensured the fighters could operate safely and optimally. The high speed distracted dodging was another skill she had been forced to develop over the years. Sensing that she was nearing her fighter, she pulled the PADD down to peer ahead of her. As expected, the reminder of her squadron had gathered around, many of them fighting off the same signs of fatigue that had been affecting her. She stifled one more yawn and made her way to the head of the group, and climbed up onto the wing of her fighter so she could be more easily heard over the commotion going on around them.
“Alright people! Eyes on me!” Mason called out to the group. A few pilots that hadn’t noticed her arrival now turned to look her way. “By now most of you should have heard the skipper’s announcement and know why we’re here. For the rest of you that did manage to fall asleep, we have an ion storm heading straight for us. Word has come from on high, and it’s going to be up to us to herd some cattle. We’ve got about two hours to either get everyone inside or send them away. It’s all hands on deck.”
She lifted up her PADD and scrolled through their orders with her thumb as she read. “We Claymores are the fastest, so we’ve got the outer marker. Any ship that can be turned away should be sent away. I don’t care if they go to another starbase, an allied planet, or fly straight to Rhitoria, they can’t stay here. Any ship that can’t afford to go somewhere else, we’ll have to make room. It’s going to be a tight fit, and we only have so many stalls, so we’re going to have to be the first line of defense. We’re going to have ships beg and plead to come in. Flight leaders, use your best judgment, but if they give you any trouble, then call it in. We don’t have a lot of time, so call in help if you need it. We’ll have support from other squadrons if we need it, but we’re the gatekeepers. That also means that we’ll be the closest to the storm when it hits, so I intend for us to get our jobs done and get us inside.” She lowered the PADD and gestured to the crowd around her. “Any questions?”
One of the pilots shouted out from the back. “Are weapons hot?”
Mason shook her head. “Weapons are on standby, but keep your finger off the trigger. Right now we’re just doing traffic control. If someone refuses to listen to your orders, then call it in. We’ll let Control decide if we need a heavier hand.”
“What should we do if the docks are full?” another asked.
“When word comes in that there are no rooms left at the inn, Control will let us know. Anyone else that comes in, we’ll have to turn away, even if it is Joseph and Mary.” Lynsi glanced around at her squadron, looking for signs of inquisitiveness. “Anyone else?”
With a multitude of heads shaking to affirm the negative, Mason moved on. “Alright then. Wheels up in five. Let’s get out there and make something happen!”
Lieutenant Lynsi “Blaze” Mason [P:Von]
Squadron Leader
V/F-37 "Claymores"
