fandomhigh | Flight and Flying, Thursday 6/12, Period 5

"Insurmountable odds," Murdock spoke seriously as he paced around the Danger Shop. "That's what we'll be covering today. According to some records, depending upon which Earth history you go by, there was a large-scale invasion by an alien race. Their goal was to strip the planet of all resources. After they slaughtered all the inhabitants, of course."

"The only thing available to fight back with was much less superior technologically to the invading race's craft. In this instance, F/A-18 Hornets went up against a mess of alien attack vessels. The Earth fighters had to rely on skill more than their firepower as the alien ships were equipped with high-energy weapons and shields which the Earth weapons could not penetrate."

"However, it was discovered that the alien crafts could be compromised using a computer program. Something called a virus," he shrugged. "Don't know much about them myself, but apparently it did the trick, making the alien craft vulnerable to the fighters' weapons."

"Except for the larger scale invasion craft. Torpedoes had little effect against the thick hull of the destroyers. The only weak spot was the vessel's main weapon, which was only accessible as the craft made ready to fire. One shot," he held up a finger, "was all that was needed to take them out. The trick was surviving long enough for that to happen."

"For today, we're going to re-live that scenario. You'll have to rely on your own skills and those of your squadron mates to take out as many fighters as possible until the larger vessel is destroyed. Good luck!"

(~~wait for it...~~ OCD tis up!)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Murdock noticed the humming. "This more your speed, Anemone?"

"You could say that." Anemone tossed a brilliant smile over her shoulder at Murdock. "It's what we are," she answered, tracing a dial with one hand. "Wrong time and wrong Earth, but this is our purpose, and we're good at it."

"What you are? I get the purpose, I reckon, but I don't completely follow you." He shrugged, "My Earth is a bit different too. Especially compared to this," he waved absently at the sim program. "Not quite my time either."

"We -" wait, we. Anemone shook her head slightly. The idea of bloodshed had her inner-Coralian rearing its head, and they were overlapping. "Sorry, sanity break, they happen."

"I'm not human," she said. "My world is over ten-thousand years from now, and I'm what's called a human-form Coralian. I was literally born to fly, and the military shaped me into their weapon. Those things out there?" she jerked her head at the invaders and smiled ferally. "Compared to a swarm of my siblings, killing those things is going to be child's play."

He arched an eyebrow in question. "Sanity break? What's that? If you don't mind me askin'," he added.

"Born to fly. Interesting. Well. It sounds like you'll have no problem with today's class." Shaped into a weapon? By the military? Oh great. Nice to know people did that to kids.

He gave her a faint smile. The sort that was encouraging and supportive of others, yet excellent at covering up one's own feelings. "You need anything, just give a holler. Okay?"

"Sanity break, uh," Anemone scrunched up her nose in thought for a moment, before grinning.

"Okay, Coralian," she announced, waving her right hand, "and human," this time her left. Interlacing her fingers together evenly, she wiggled all the fingers. "Us. Separate, but equal, and there's overlap, so sometimes it isn't clear which one you're talking to. Usually me, but sometimes her, and sometimes both, and we're still us. Add on top of that the fact Coralians operate as a sort of group mind, and what one knows, all know. So, sometimes it gets a bit loud up here."

"So...half human with like another personality inside?" An oversimplification probably, but the whole her, her and us mind thing had him a tad confused. "She talks to you? In your head?" Hearing voices he was familiar with.

"Two sides of the same coin," she clarified, turning her attentions back to the controls....oooo...weapons systems! "I'm more human-ish, I'm better with people -" Which wasn't saying much. At all. " -and she's pure Coralian. Not so much with the voices lately, we're doing better with the crazy."

Anemone suddenly spun around and grinned at him again, this one just pure mischief. "Well, that aspect of the crazy, anyway. The talking to planes bit of crazy isn't going to stop any time soon."

"What exactly is a Coralian? I don't have much experience with non-humans." He cocked his head a little. "The crazy? You mean like," he made a little circle with a finger next to the side of his head, "crazy crazy?"

He chuckled at the last bit. "Ain't nothin' crazy 'bout that. I talk my birds all the time."

"Take an intelligent space-thing, toss it Earth's oceans, shake well, that that's the start of my family tree," she joked. "Seriously, all the other types of Coralians look like giant versions of freaky space-fish. There's only three of us that are the 'human form' variety, and we're still pretty distinctive, with the neon hair and freaky eyes."

"Can you tell that to the Captain?" Anemone asked, patting the plane. "It gets so repetitive. 'Anemone, that's an inanimate object, it doesn't have feelings', 'Anemone, the shuttle did not tell you to take it for a joyride', 'Anemone, stop singing to the engines.'" She rolled her eyes. "The man has no soul, I swear."

"Space-fish. Huh. That's different. I didn't think much about your hair. I figured it was just dyed." LA in the 80s? Neon hair wasn't that unusual.

"That sounds so like a friend of mine. He's constantly telling me such things," he smirked. "And that I'm a crazy fool. You get used to it after a while," he shrugged.

Flight and Flying, Thursday 6/12, Period 5

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter

Re: Grab a fighter