fighting_mad | [OOM] Simulator Room

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[OOM] Simulator Room

Juke left, juke right, juke left, juke right; lure your opponent into a false sense of security, make him think he knows exactly what you're going to do.

Lasers flash by on the screen.

One last juke to the right, and there's the light-up of a targeting lock; she yanks the stick back and to the left, throwing the sim fighter into a tight roll that should press her back against the seat with its force. Of course, this machine isn't nearly complex enough for that.

She's got to find some way to throw the Priamsta off guard like that. To catch the rebels--the ones who say they're lead by Harran but they're not they can't be--off guard and--

The flash of an explosion and the screen goes dark.

"Sithspit!" Plourr slams an open palm against the overhead frame of the simulator, then lets her hand rest there, hooked on the frame.

She runs her other hand over her head in an unconscious motion; auburn stubble still foreign to the touch, too rough and scratchy. Hell, her whole body feels foreign; her tunic is smooth and skintight, eggshell-colored with deep purple, allowing every cord of muscle to show. She's not used to anything so fine, and she's definitely not used to the matching skirt, to seeing her legs bare in anything but athletic shorts. High heels. She'd drawn whistles from the Rogues that afternoon; joking whistles, yes, and ones that had earned several of them glares and thwappings, but she had caught admiring looks from not a few men at court, too. From the nobles at dinner.

Dinner.

"The tyranny of the nobles is at an end, Laabann. I will see to that. If you wish a place in the future of Eiattu, either stand with the throne-- or fall."

The crash of a breaking wineglass.

"The choice is yours."

Plourr hits the top of the simulator again.

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Dark eyes, (stormy grey, actually) made almost black by the shadow the door threw upon her, watched Plourr.

Then without announcement, accord, or anything at all really Aeryn walked in and took a seat at the other simulator. She hadn't expected Plourr to be here and after the conversation with Jaina it almost seemed like fate was tempting her.

Uncomfortable, when all Aeryn wanted to do was blast the dren out of some ships and insist she was handling everything perfectly.

Plourr's head whips to the side as she hears the footsteps -- then she relaxes somewhat as she sees who they belong to. Her hand lowers slowly, almost (but not quite) embarrassedly from the sim frame. "Hey," she says, resting her hand on her knee.

"Hey."

Aeryn lowered her head, tapping buttons haphazardly. Anything to look like she was doing something.

A pause, watching her, then, "Don't tell me you're freaking out again."

Flat look. "Am I going to have to dodge more flying alcoholic beverages?"

"I'm not 'freaking out'."

At least, not about Plourr. Her hands tightened on the console. That was the last thing she needed to be reminded of.

She had practically accused Plourr of being a tralk, called her a mistake.

"I just want some sims time. Didn't think anyone would be here so late."

Another moment of eyeing, and then Plourr decides that she's safe from flying objects for the moment. "It's late here too, huh. I half-expected it to be the middle of the afternoon. This place likes to kriff with my sense of time like that." She is decidedly not going into why she's here at a disgusting hour of the morning, beating the shavit out of simulators.

Ask no questions, no lies will be told.

Aeryn wasn't exactly broadcasting her reasons. She didn't say anything but the sound of very loud blasting was emanating from her sim.

Out there she can say she'll get closure, she can say the vision was good thing, she can even say Plourr is uncomplicated.

In here, she just wants to kill something.

In her own simulator, Plourr sits still, frowning quietly, and then she rolls her eyes and taps a button.

Aeryn may or may not realize it, but there's now a TIE Interceptor in the sim that isn't quite as automated as the rest.

Of course she realized it. She would be dead already if the difference wasn't obvious. Between her emotions and her damn anger, Aeryn could barely keep her head above water as it was; firing at everything in sight. She knew it was bad flight sense, ignoring all the training that had been drilled into her, but this was only the sims. These ones couldn't kill you.

But Plourr could. Plourr could beat her easily, she had the advantage, she was familiar with the machines much more than Aeryn was. That didn't mean she was going to make it easy.

She dodged a series of attacks, loosening her fingers, keeping sharp, pressing the annoyance down where it couldn't get to her.

TIE Interceptors, to be fair, aren't the sort of craft Plourr's used to. X-wings are fast, but squints are blindingly quick; the things could turn on a cred coin, she's sure. No shields weighing it down; no hyperdrive, either. Flying coffins, they are. She hates them. She's never been in the cockpit of a real one; she'd flown a standard TIE once or twice while doing some mechanic work, but never in combat.

Have we mentioned yet that she hates them?

Still, it's a ship, and she's a pilot. She stops the curses before they come out as the screen moves impossibly fast in front of her, and it's a moment before she brings it somewhat under control. Once she's got it, though, she's checking the rudimentary sensor board for Aeryn's craft, and she's starting on a loop that will bring her in that direction, all the while juking and dancing, firing off potshots here and there at A-wings and X-wings. Her primary focus, though is trying to stay alive. Kriffing Empire.

The worst thing was, when something entirely unexpected happened. Like almost flying straight into the enemy ship.

Frelling X-Wing sensors.

Aeryn scraped a turn just in time, clipping off the edge of Plourr's wing.

"If that's you, I'd advise you to stop. I didn't come here for a showdown with you."

The obscenity that echoes out of the simulator when the crafts' wings collide probably answers the 'if that's you' comment.

"No, you came here to blow shavit up," she says once the spinning has stopped and she's gotten the battered TIE turned around and headed back toward Aeryn's ship, lasers flashing. "And that's why I'm here, too. So just fucking fly, Sun."

Firing everywhere. She didn't know X-wings well enough. She was going to die. She had failed and now she was going to die. Except Milliways wasn't the Peacekeepers. As her knuckles whitened, gripping onto the controls, Aeryn realised just how stupid this was.

"No. I refuse your challenge." She slipped out past the console and leaned against the wall of the machine.

Plourr lets her squint collide head-on with a Y-wing, and there's the ghost of a grin at seeing both craft blow up. Then she turns to face outward, resting her shoulder against the side of the sim booth and (belatedly) crossing her legs. "It wasn't a challenge. Just trying to cause some mayhem. What's the problem, Aeryn?" She's not referring to the other woman's refusal to engage in simulated space battle.

"You ask that like it's so easy to answer. Is that a human thing?"

Aeryn folded her arms, staring the floor; speaking quietly. There was none of her usual bite in the sarcasm.

"No," she says evenly, "there's usually a whole bunch of problems at once; that's the way life works."

"I did a thing."

In the back of her mind, Jaina's words echoed. 'Just stay on your guard, Aeryn.'

"Some sort of Jedi mind thing, with Kira...the Exile."

She didn't volunteer anymore information, just picked at a small cut on her palm.

"A Jedi mind thing." Frown. "Why would you want to do that?"

The soldier clenched her teeth together, muscles shaking quietly.

"Because I was tired of feeling this way."

"And, what, the Jedi quick-fix didn't take?"

"It wasn't a quick-fix." She threw an angry glance at Plourr.

How could anybody be so arrogant?

"It was supposed to show me what I wanted. Which path to take."

What? Plourr doesn't trust Jedi. Of course, she doesn't really know any besides having met one or two once or twice in Milliways, but that's beside the point.

"Oh, right. Sorry." She just avoids an eyeroll to go with the sarcasm. "It didn't?"

Aeryn turned away, the short exhalation betrayed her annoyance, her...everything.

"No. It did."

"Then I'm back to my original human question."

"I found out something I didn't want to know. I know what I have to do, but I don't want to do it."

She wanted to pace, to run, to scratch an itch she couldn't reach. Her feet only took her a short distance, right to the wall. This place, Milliways, was a cage.

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