At Ease || Captain Striker

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

September 30Th, 2003
1910 hours

The simulators were barren right now. The lights were on overhead, as usual, but the woman wandering among the simulators was the only sign of life. She walked with her hands clasped behind her back, leaning and peering with bright cerulean eyes into the darkened controls and black screens of each. The canopies were opened to show that they were unoccupied. She was seriously tempted to boot the system up, such was her constant drive to be in the cockpit, but she refrained only because she had a purpose for being here. Captain Striker had asked her to meet him here at 1900. Some 10 minutes ago.

The truth was, Fox never undermined Captain Striker. On-duty, she was composed, and she followed his orders. In front of their squadron, she treated him about as warmly as she treated anyone else. It was only behind closed doors with Striker that he could make her come unhinged, strictly off-the-record. She didn't like to lose composure. Fox didn't want to lie with the dogs in that respect, to get Striker's fleas when it came to being unprofessional. She hadn't begun with any feeling of superiority. In truth, she didn't feel superior now – she just used that analogy to feel a little vindicated. He was running late. She tried to imagine he didn't do it on purpose, but he often called meetings with her and arrived 10 minutes late. She'd thought about doing the same thing herself, but she imagined the one time she -did-, he'd be on time. Such would be her luck according to Murphy's Law: what can go wrong, will.

At this point, Fox was totally out of her flight suit, in a plain black t-shirt and thick hunter-green pants as well as her boots. In terms of physical features, Fox was tone and fit like everyone else aboard – and buxom, a fact that Vik tended to mask with tightly-wrapped bandages beneath her clothing. She didn't want the Samantha Casey-style jokes, though she rolled with whatever was thrown her way.

Fifteen minutes was a professional courtesy. Thirty was what Fox would have given Striker before she left. She was off-duty, and he knew he was cutting into her personal time with this request. She would have likely spent that time running her own simulations. She liked to make an appearance among the squadron, but she thought the disconnect was apparent between herself and everyone aboard. She had camaraderie to a point, but she didn't belong her in the same way she had to the Patrolstar Achilles. Captain Halls, Lt. Atlas, hell, even Ajax, among the group. She missed it. She missed belonging somewhere. And the moments she had with Captain Striker just drove it home. She wasn't aboard the Patrolstar Achilles anymore. She hadn't had that same warmth and friendship with the Shadowhawks squadron as she'd had with the Heel squadron. Captain Hall didn't make her wait for the pleasure of eating into her down time. She was far from a pilot Striker would appreciate.

But at least she could still fly.

She laid one hand on the side of a simulator and closed her eyes. Not for the first time, she saw the sunlight glistening over the ocean like diamond shards beneath the surface. It was a beautiful day. The vessel on her port side was angled downward. Black smoke was trailing out of the engines. Her port wing was just above his.

I think this is it, Fox.

The doomed Mark VII skidded across the ocean with wings of water on either side until the nose buried in the water. The craft went vertical, smashing down into the water. She watched the sea swallowing the wings until only the keel was visible.

She opened her eyes to look at the black canopy, the screens blank. She would have almost sworn they'd have a residual image of the ocean.

[Chris Wilson]

The day had progress and little had gone on other then the new rook joining them and getting set to get his hands dirty. Chris had prepped everything with Ty and Samantha's help. They had paint stencils and all the makings of a great prank of the Tigers. The problem he had to worry about was the one person in the squad he looked at as his weakest link, Vik.

She was an exceptional pilot and willing to work with the team on business, but they were more then a team, they were a family. She was the only one not willing to see that in Chris' eyes. He wasn't going to have a weak link in the way of bringing the new guy in to the fold. Chris had called for a meeting with her alone in the simulator room. He had told her he needed her there at 1900 sharp and he was just down the hall waiting to make sure she was there on time. Had she come late he would have been all over her right then but no she was early as expected.

Sure in his process of wasting her time he was wasting his to but such was the life of a squad leader. He waited for tell it was ten after and finally made his way in to the room with her. The whole time debating the approach he was going to take to deal with her. What he was going to nail her on this time. It was his norm for her. If he needed her out of the way of 'family business' all he had to do was simply piss her off. Plus he had another task to handle in the room while he was there.

"Fox, what the Hades was with the performance in here earlier." With out saying more he rapped on the keys of one of the simulators pulling up the flight record from earlier. seventeen minutes forty-two seconds in to her flight. The group had been flying as a squad and as an attack came in she pulled a one eighty turn to redirect toward the enemy targets. Her turn was tight and on course but.. "Point three-nine seconds reaction time on that turn and a a minor pause on my orders there." The pause itself was less then point one seconds and more then satisfactory by anyone's standards.

"This is beyond unacceptable, had that been in a combat situation with anything more then a fresh nugget pilot you could have costed live. Shadowhawks require better then that." His voice was already raise and agitated. Chris Hand went on to her shoulder. One could have mistook it for caring about the soldier and trying to soften the blow but if you were the one on the receiving end you would feel the less then gentle push toward the seat in the sim cockpit. "I am tired of your fraking games in training. The Rook will be in shortly to train with you and I expect no mistake for once Fox."

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

Fox could feel the heat radiating from her back as Striker went about his... bullshit. She was a damn good pilot, especially in the simulators. He was throwing nonsense at her, and she saw through it. The question was... why? She knew there'd be shit with the Rook. She didn't particularly care. In truth, it would have been an opportunity to see if she'd be able to communicate with Atlas on the Patrolstar.

She braced against his shove, looking at him with fury in her eyes. She didn't give voice to what she felt, and certainly what she thought, at least in that moment. When he commented that she make no mistake for once, something in her broke. Of course, she wasn't thinking of the simulator.

She was thinking of Snakebite.

”Striker, if you're going to ride my ass, at least buy me dinner first.”

It wasn't like her. It was more something Snakebite would have said... it was something Snakebite had said. Why it slipped out now... it was just a testament to how often she thought about the crew she had belonged with. Striker had made himself the bane of her life from the first opportunity.

She didn't look to gauge his reaction, but took her place in the simulator. He could have asked her to go. They both know she would have had no problem segregating herself again, getting lost in her own head. It made no sense to do this now. It was just to get under her skin, and in a way that wasn't necessary. He knew as well as she did that she'd never once reported on anything he did, on anything their squadron did, or their hazing. She wasn't blind, or ignorant. She just... wasn't, with them. And the more Striker pushed her, the harder she shielded herself against him... and them, by association.

She didn't like to break her composure, but she had with Striker in the past. She had within seconds ago, with the first sexually-charged comment she'd ever made aboard the Hyperion. She was avoiding his gaze. She didn't want to see what his expression with be, and she certainly didn't want him to be pleased with her. Not at that expense.

In truth, Fox had been a different person aboard the Patrolstar Achilles. The Battlestar Hyperion was newer, flashier, with all the bells and whistles of a specially commissioned vessel. The Achilles had been a more humble vessel, and she'd had friends there. She'd given her all in cards, lost and won cubits, laughed, and loved all of her fellow pilots. She had a certain love for the Shadowhawks... but Striker made damn sure that she didn't get close. Not that she really could anyway.

They... just weren't her squadron.

She didn't want to do this. Not with Striker right there. She didn't want him yelling in her ear the whole way. She planted her right palm against her forehead, running her fingers through her short, honey-blond hair. Pragmatism was never sexxy, but it was easier to have short hair and not to deal with longer hair, worry with bobby pins and buns. She shook her head, then reached for the helmet, bracing herself to ignore whatever sewage would spew out of the captain toward her tonight. She thought she was fairly skilled at the art of ignoring Captain Striker, at least on their down time. And whatever he had to say would be more crap. It really didn't matter.

He was going to make sure she didn't get any alone time.

[Chris Wilson]

Chris paid little attention to the comment she gave him but it did not go with out notice. He had so many comments he could return with on that one but there was a time and place for that and it would have to wait till after he had finished out getting what he wanted from Vik.

When she went down to the seat with out any issue he saw his next chance for a dig at her there too. "Gods damn it Fox, do you not have a spine. Frak your a gads damn Shadow Hawk don't let anyone push you around." He turned the simulator to a different scenario. The screen popped on with her over a crystal clear ocean panorama. The alarm on the Sim began to go off with an engine failure as it all began. She was some twenty kilometers up from the water and going down fast. the scenario was not unrecoverable but would take a good pilot to get themselves stable and back up in the air to make it to the air field. nothing to hard.. That is till Chris would add in fighters attacking as soon as she tried to recover.

"This is a simple Simulation, you need to start from the beginning again. Recover your viper and make a combat landing at the nearest opening you can find." He stated as he let the sim begin. He knew her past and knew this one would push her limits. He could see the look in her eyes as she looked at the screen.

"Come on Fox no time for Hesitation your now 18,000 meters and you haven't done shit." He said as he kicked the side of the Sim. "17,000 meter and crashing." As she began to react he tapped the keys and put a second viper down lower near the water crashing as well. over the comms in the sims computerized voice the second pilot spoke. "Viper two six going down"

"15,000 meter, your getting to low Fox, Recover!" Chris belted. He was not going to go easy on her, part of it was he loved to frak with her and part of it was he actually respected her as a pilot and though she needed to be given the hard run to make sure she excelled to her potential.

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

She'd been ready for it. For whatever. At least, she thought she had been. Normally when she saw the ocean like this, it was behind closed eyes. She felt sick the second she saw the scene. She'd been prepared to go for the controls, to pull back on the stick, to regulate her trajectory as best she could... until she saw the second vessel. She found herself just watching it go down.

She found herself talking to her helmet, relaying coordinates to the Achilles to get their falling pilot out of the water. She ignored the red lights and alarms, assessing the damage on her craft and using thrusts of CO2 to break speed. Black smoke was pouring out of the Mark VII Viper beneath. Even as she began to even out, it was going down. So she kept down with it. She kept her port wing above the starboard wing of that vessel. Her heart was racing, and her eyes were burning. There was no communication from that vessel. That didn't stop her from hearing it, though.

They're in atmosphere now, Vik. You see that sunset? Pretty beautiful if I wasn't going down.

”You should have bugged out, Jon.”

Would you have?

She couldn't respond in that moment. She was crying inside her helmet. She was starting to shake. She ignored Striker moreso because she couldn't focus on him. She saw the Mark VII Viper hit the water, but the wave consumed it. That wasn't how the real Viper had crashed.

Initially, she'd skimmed the fake ocean with her keel.

Foxy, listen, I want you to know that I don't regret going back for you. And that you'd have done the same thing for me.

She was gasping in her helmet, even as she started to pull her plane up.

I think that's going to be important for you to remember, Tori.

The mock ocean was still unsettled, with the Mark VII going down so that the starboard wing was upraised... That's not how the real Viper went down.

Say a few words to Poseidon for me.

When she heard those words in her head, Fox pushed the stick forward and buried her plane's nose in the water. The alarms went crazy, the systems glitched out, and the simulator's canopy showed the water overtaking her ship. She did it on purpose... and because she didn't want to survive the same thing again.

She yanked her helmet off and left it lying in the floor of the simulator as she pushed out the other side. She was wiping her eyes, but she wasn't looking back to the simulator, to Striker. She wasn't playing this game. It was... the worst thing anyone had ever done to her in her life to date, frankly. It wasn't a prank to her, it wasn't a joke, and it sure as frak wasn't funny. She was walking away from Striker, fast, and she wasn't saying a word to him. It was out of line. Way the frak out of line.

[Chris Wilson]

Chris continued to watch as she was saying something muffled from under the helmet. The comms was not on to allow him to hear it wiht out a helmet on himself, though it was a simple flip of a switch on the side to give him the ability to listen in. For now though he would allow her the private moment. "12,000 meters Fox, you are failing."

His comments were going unnoticed. To some extent it frustrated him but not enough to lose his cool abut it all. "7,000 Fox, maybe your not cut out for the Shadow Hawks" It was then that he saw something he wasn't expecting she began to dive in to the ocean quicker. "2,000 pull it up." He belted at her and then a second later she was in the water in a complete nose dive. There was no way she messed up, it was intentional.

Chris may have crossed a line that he shouldn't have though it was unlikely he would be willing to ever admit anything of the sort. No, he wasn't going to back down from this one. When she got up Chris had an expressionless look on his face as he waited for her to scream at him and lose her cool. This time that wasn't the case though. She turned and walked out the other side of the simulator looking like she might be wiping her eyes. He had indeed pushed her just a little to much this time.

He began to unbutton his over shirt as he made his way around the machine and toward her in a haste. Just before she got to the door he had his shirt off and in his hand with his under tank top left on. His right hand went forward and grabbed her left and pulled her back in an effort to spin her to face him. "That's it your just going to walk away. Where the frak is that gutsy pilot I was promised wheen you came over to the Shadow Hawks. Don't you frakin dare walk away. I know there is more to you then that."

he let go of her arm and stepped in a little closer. "you want to hit me then hit me. There's no gods damned rank here right now." He paused leaning in just a bit further with his hands at his side. "I know you want, stop being a puss about it and act like a frakin Shadow Hawk" He was going to push her till she snapped there was no question about that. It was just a matter of how hard he would have to push to get her to her breaking point. Of everyone she had the highest breaking point of any of them but she could still be broke. She still would not stand up for herself like the others would and he was going to break that of her if he was going to keep her in his squad.

She could have her own way of flying and fighting. She can do her thing but she was going to break and be part of this family if she wanted the title of the best the Hyperion had to offer. "I can't frakin believe you."

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

The last words of Jonathan Stokes call sign Snakebite were ringing in her head, and she was mourning him as heavily as she had in several years. The truth was, not a month went by that she didn't dream of his death at least once. It had been a nightly occurrence, once. Then weekly. Time had eased it a little, at least with her sleeping mind. Her waking mind felt the guilt more heavily. When she daydreamed, it was of that last conversation. She couldn't escape her past.

She had no doubt in her mind that Striker had read her file. Striker had read the transcripts, read something. There was no way in Hades that what he'd just pulled in there was a coincidence. It showed no respect for her as his pilot and charge, and no respect for Snakebite. There were some places a fellow pilot and soldier shouldn't have gone. Some bridges a person, just by the sake of being a frakking person, did not cross. There was no lower place in this world or beyond it that a person could be than Striker in that moment, at least in Fox's eyes.

He grabbed her left arm and yanked her, but she resisted his pull, jerking her arm away from him with a venom reflective of the craft's name that she piloted.

That's it, you're just going to walk away. Where the frak is that gutsy pilot I was promised when you came over to the Shadow Hawks. Don't you frakin' dare walk away. I know there is more to you than that.”

She could feel him moving closer to her. She was trembling with anger, with tears streaming down her face for Snakebite. ”You want to hit me, then hit me. There's no gods-damned rank here right now. I know you want to, stop being a puss about it, and act like a frakin' Shadow Hawk.”

When she rounded on him, she'd really meant to with words. But she hadn't. She socked him in the mouth with everything she had, and it was enough to knock him a step backward. Blood was seeping out of his lower lip, and she took both hands and shoved him as hard as she could manage. Fox was light compared to Chris, and she likely only managed it because he allowed her. She didn't care if it was allowed or not. It brought him pain. That's what she wanted him to feel. Pain.

”Frak you, Striker! Snakebite was a hundred times the pilot you ever dreamed of being! You have no frakkin' right to mock his death, you gods-damned son of a bitch!”

She'd said it. And if she was going to say it, she was going to say it all. She capitalized on his offer of no rank, moving to shove him again, as if challenging her captain.

”I have done -everything- you asked of me, Striker! Everything! I didn't ask to be here, and you didn't ask for me, but I'm frakkin' here! If you want rid of me, have them ship me off somewhere else, transfer me out, throw me to another squadron, you're not so frakkin' stupid that you can't write that request! Do I need to draw the frakkin' instructions with crayon and construction paper for you, numbnuts?!”

At that point, she was exposed. He was able to see the tears burning in her eyes, her red face and gritted teeth. She didn't want to hit him again. She did, it felt good, but she didn't want to lose her control. For whatever sick reason, it's what Striker wanted from her. And she really didn't want to give him what he wanted.

”You are the shittiest excuse for a captain I've ever met, Striker. Or maybe just a human being.”

She referred to the simulation he'd thrown her into, though she didn't say it. She didn't have to say it. He knew what he'd done. He knew how wrong it was, how out of line, and how he'd played on the suffering of one soldier by the death of another. She hadn't liked him. Now, she frakkin' despised the bastard.

[Chris Wilson]

Chris stepped back as she struck him. That was it she finally hit her breaking point. He felt satisfied with the result of this little game. He had proven once again that he could control her when he wanted to. Who knows if she had caught on to this game yet. He would push and she would break then it would go back to normal. Every time it was a step more to get her there. Just that much harder to get her to break.

He had pushed to hard this time and he now knew the line that was to far to cross. It didn't help her much side from make her think he was an asshole, and well he was really. No one deserved what he did to her but he did it anyway. "Is that all Vik?" He replied to her after she had hit him again and finished talking. She talked of them being stuck with each other with out either of them wanting that. What she didn't know was that Chris had hand picked her for the Reapers. She was one of the few that it was the case for. Tyler was tossed in to his lap and he welcomed him with open arms. Samuel his new Rook was tossed at him though he had not asked for him. He would have to prove himself, but Vik, not her. She had a record that would carry her to greatness like Ty and when he was given her record to look over for a possible transfer Chris went to the commander himself to make that transfer happen.

She was the perfect candidate for a ShadowHawk. The perfect candidate for the elite force of the most elite ship in the fleet. She just needed to learn to get over her past. Yeah, Chris was one to talk on getting over past. he had ghosts he had run from when he was just a kid and now a decade and a half later he was still running, lying and pretending it never happened. His whole squad though his parents were dead yet they sat on the surface of Aerilon right below them.

Chris knew the effects that ones past could have on them. He had lived that for years and this young pilot needed to get past that issue. "Shitty excuse or not, I am not writing you out of this squad. Your not getting off that easy." She could request herself to be transferred out but he would fight it to the bitter end. "Prove yourself and I will stop having to force you to." He reached for the door ready to open it but he was going to wait make sure she got it all out of her system.

His other hand reached up and wiped the blood from his face. "You don't even put all your effort in to hating someone. Pathetic." The last little bit was one last dig at her to make sure she had gained her cool again before letting her proceed if she wanted to.

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

Is that all Vik?

Some part of her had expected that it was a ploy to have her locked up. She'd never done that before. On some level, she still expected he might have her locked up. Only tomorrow would tell. She didn't really care at this point, though. His question was almost laughable. Her piloting wasn't good enough. Her obedience wasn't good enough. Hell, even her anger was angry enough for the man. She was such a gargantuan let-down that she couldn't satisfy even this sadistic prick.

Captain Wilson had gotten bad before, and she'd taken it all in stride. She was willing to look past it, ignore it, and do her job. That was what she'd been trying to do for a very long time. She came onto the Hyperion in the same year it was launched. Chris had been there from the first day, and he'd predated her. Over their time together, she'd learned that he'd tried to get into closed space with her. He'd done some pretty rough things in the past. It had taken a while before he was actually able to instigate her, but at some point, she'd taken him up on leaving rank at the door. They'd had fights, and a lot of them. He'd ask her to meet him somewhere for the sheer sake of having alone time to take out on her, and she'd never understood it. Tonight, though, he'd crossed so far over the line that it was ludicrous to imagine.

”Shitty excuse or not, I am not writing you out of this squad. You're not getting off that easy. Prove yourself and I will stop having to force you to.” He reached for the door, wiping the blood off his face with one hand. ”You don't even put all your effort into hating someone. Pathetic.”

”It's not my flying. It's not my response time.”

According to her tone, she was shifting gears into something calmer. She was bewildered by his responses. He acted as if his entire goal was to instigate her into hitting him. And she had, and as soon as he left, he could have her thrown in the brig for it. And he very well might.

”It's not that you want rid of me.”

She ran the fingers of both hands through her hair. Her face was still red and her eyes a faded, darker hue in the whites from her tears. He'd gotten her way off track for something that felt totally unnecessary. They'd been aboard this ship for several years together, and this wasn't about to stop.

”What the hell do you want, Striker?”

She didn't move for the door, but watched him. He could leave if he liked. She wasn't about to cower down to him, even if he started taking revenge from that hit. She'd have preferred taking a beating from him to having to deal with him all the mother frakkin' time. She wasn't afraid of him, not in terms of how physical he could get. She just wanted the bullshit to stop. Her life would have been a hell of a lot better off if he'd just back away there.

[Chris Wilson]

As she made each of her comments Chris was quick to retort quietly. Loud enough for her to hear it but much lower then he had been the rest of the conversation.

”It's not my flying. It's not my response time.”

"No and no."

”It's not that you want rid of me.”

"Not it either." A slight smile came over his face.

”What the hell do you want, Striker?”

He paused there with no intentions of leaving if she was not going to be the one to walk away again. if course he had told her not to do that only moments before. No this little stale mate was bound to be a part of their lives for a long time to come. "You want to know what it is? Gods, I figured after all this time you would have figured it out."

he let go of the door and move closer once again getting only a foot away from her again. Right with in striking distance. "Stop being stuck on who you were and find out who the frak you are." It was a bullshit round about way of saying what is true. It leaned on the truth but wasn't really disclosing it to her. Chris could have come right out and told her, and for a moment he thought of doing that. After all this time this could have been done and over with in a few months maybe even a year but he was going to make her figure it out herself.

"You'd consider yourself a good pilot. I wouldn't fight that." He started telling her in plain caprica. "You got one Hades of service record to boot. but here we are like we has since the day we met going rounds." He paused as he looked her over he could see that she had begun to calm down already. "Never mind your still not ready to get it."

Chris let out a sigh of disappointment. He really did have high hopes for her as part of the squad but she had to drop the past and move forward. She needed to get her head in the game and able to accept that what had happened was not her fault and even if it was, so frakin what. It wasn't going to change anything. She was a great pilot but she could be a legend if she would make he flying about being her and not others from the past, mainly snakebite. "I'll have someone else train the rook. Get yourself washed up I think you got blood on your hands."

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

His quiet retorts confirmed it, but they also frustrated her to no end. When he turned and came closer to her, she looked first to his split lip. She could see blood in the lines between his teeth, as well as smeared all over his chin and face. She had to drop her eyes for a moment just to register the physical evidence of her anger, before looking him in the eyes.

”Stop being stuck on who you were and find out who the frak you are.”

It angered her, yes. It was also the first thing he'd said to her this round that made any sense at all. Aside from orders, it may have been the only thing he'd said to her that made sense. Her eyes flicked down again. She was angry at him. She was clenching her teeth, but she was swallowing the fire to look into his eyes again, She didn't want to internalize anything he said because she despised him. She despised him... but she was listening.

”You'd consider yourself a good pilot. I wouldn't fight that. You got one Hades of a service record to boot... but here we are like we have been since the day we met, going rounds.”

And just when he was bordering on something that almost sounded like a worthwhile conversation, he did what he always did... He came off sounding like an insufferable jackass: ”Nevermind, you're still not ready to get it.” A melodramatic sigh for emphasis, and ”I'll have someone else train the rook. Get yourself washed up.

”I think you got blood on your hands.”

She clenched her teeth and pressed her lips into a thin line, looking upward and blinking. The corners of her lips twitched upward in an angry smile. She couldn't believe the nerve of him. She needed to forget the past, and he made a statement that reeked of double entendre like that? She had his blood on her hands. And whose, Snakebite's? Gods, the man couldn't just stop, could he? He couldn't wade through his own bullshit enough to give her a solid answer, a This is what you do, then this all stops. Even now, after making her life aboard the Hyperion a few degrees from hell at every opportunity for the past few years... Gods. It just didn't stop with him.

”This needs to stop. Captain. Whatever you want from me, you'll have it.” She reached up to clamp her hand over her mouth, then brush it aside, as if she had blood of her own to wipe from her face. ”This behavior isn't appropriate. For either of us. I've never frakkin' struck a superior before. Captain.” The rank was added distastefully, but to remind herself of something. He'd made her from a Lieutenant who had a certain distaste for her superior to a Lieutenant who could very well be thrown into the brig at his whim now.

How this would benefit either of them was well beyond her. She imagined he hadn't thought the whole ordeal through very thoroughly as well. He'd have to forgive her for assuming that the synapses firing in his brain were a little askew from the norm. And the good. She couldn't imagine anyone worth their salt putting a soldier with her background into -that- simulation. She wasn't a nugget to haze, and he was not her drill sergeant. This was her career, and his, two jobs that would be intertwined indefinitely, and he was making her end of it hell, warding her off from the group like she was sort of Harpy looking to snatch an unsuspecting pilot to add to her collection of soldier's bones in her nest somewhere.

[Chris Wilson]

Chris had, had his fun and it was time for reasonable, logical conversation between the two. The kind of thing that would really resolve this issue once and for all. Okay not really, that wasn't where Chris excelled. He took a deep breath as he listened to her make her case one more time. This time though she had less ground to stand on she had struck a superior and she knew it and she was even admitting to it.

"Fox, this is exactly the behavior I have been looking for from you. For once you stood up for yourself against the asshole that has been making your life miserable for what.. three years now basically." Alright so Chris could actually be serious to some extent. "We both agree this has nothing to do with your skill or getting rid of you. Yet we keep playing this game. Have you ever thought there is more to me being on your ass then I take pleasure in it, and I do." Okay that last part was not needed and he knew it but what can be done about it. People never change their ways. They are who they are no matter what right?

No that was bullshit, people can change with the right pressure. She needed to make a change, she needed to get over her past and flight with out that fear of losing someone. She was to reserved to take a risk when it was needed. "I'm not going to stop pushing you till we make progress. Gods know I have tried to make you fix yourself but not even Zues seems to be able to help me." He stepped back giving her, her space for once.

Finally he backed up far enough to be at one of the benches in the room where people would wait for their turn in the sims. "Fox, you might just have the potential to be the best pilot this squad has had over myself, Helios, or Griffin." His voice showed no sign of contempt for the first time with her in one of these conversations in likely over a year. "I crossed a line and I know it. If I had the chance to do it all over again would I do it different?" He paused a moment for dramatic effect as he was known to do. "Hades no, I wouldn't change an thing."

Chris could be a mean son-of-a-bitch but most of the time it was for a reason. Not always the best reason but a reason none the less. "Fox, stop doubting yourself for once. You act like you are a good pilot but something is holding you back, and I will keep trying to find it no matter what I have to put you through." He had no doubt he was willing to keep making her life hades. The real question was there something holding her back, something that was causing an issue or was he misjudging her all this time and she just didn't have it in her to be more reckless. Maybe she was already at her best and she was the kind of pilot that would always follow the book and not the gut.

Chris of course was killing two birds with one stone here getting her out of the way and putting her through the next little trial in his effort to get her to break free of the bonds of the rules and join the ShadowHawks in a free thinking, boundless effort to dominate the stars.

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

At one point, Fox would have thought this was impossible. What her captain was saying seemed well thought-out, like a captain really and truly attentive to his pilots, as if there was a greater plan to all of the bullshit he'd put her through so far. The compliment he gave her, through a bleeding lower lip and with the same red wash over his teeth, made her glance away from him. She wasn't accustomed to a serious version of Striker, and she was somber in response to it. She wouldn't have thought it was possible.

She'd just knocked the retarded out of her captain.

Fox lifted her right hand to guard her eyes and glanced downward. Her body was shaking again, silently... from laughter. Her emotions had to vent, somehow. Gods, Striker was the bane of her life. So, why did she feel that he'd actually stepped on her toes? That he'd been the universe's biggest jackass and still made her feel, at the end of it, that he had some points... if a miserable way of getting to them. She wasn't ready to accept a compliment about being one of his best, both because she wasn't a haughty person in general and because she didn't quite trust her captain. For all she knew, he was setting her up so he could feel that she thought herself superior to her squadron. That had been a theme in conversations past – an entirely false one, but it had come up. Not in a long time, though. He'd outgrown it in lieu of worse and more demeaning conversations.

”There are better ways to get a response from me, Striker.”

She was at a strange stalemate with her emotions. An eye-of-the-storm sort of moment, where she didn't feel hatred for Striker as fervently as she had just a short time ago. Self-regulation was something she was used to. Everything in her pushed it all aside and looked for something else to think about, to understand, to analyze... to make judgments based off of. The truth was, she and striker had started going round for round with each other before her first full year with the Shadowhawks. She'd gone from self-righteous through a plethora of insults to arrive here, at the insinuation of being a sub-par pilot. It was all a game. If one really looked at the things Striker had said to her in that time, it was ludicrous. It made no sense and had no foundation.

He'd commented that she could put in for a transfer. In all this time, she hadn't. She may not have fit exactly with this squadron... but she'd tried for them. It was more than she could say for anything else. She'd tried despite Captain Striker... or, perhaps -to- spite Captain Striker. She'd told herself that she was alright with him as a person, she just disagreed with him as a leader. The truth was, she wasn't keen on him in either respect, as a human being or as a leader. Maybe if she hadn't known him aboard the Hyperion. Maybe if she'd known him from Aerilon, met him in Caprica. Maybe there was a side of him that didn't suck. She was willing to give him that... as slim a chance as it sometimes seemed.

”Discourse, as one.”

She had no fantasies that conversing with him now was going to mend anything. He had wanted to get a rise out of her, and he had. She'd fed him, and he'd only want more to go along with it. It wasn't as if he needed to hint around the subject. One moment of clarity, however brief, in several years of abuse... translated into simply I want you to get over your hangups and give more than just lip service to joining this family. Which was a great notion, really fabulous, except he'd spent so much time riding her that she'd shut him out. And most, in fact, with him. He felt like the river was dammed in that sense, but she saw him as just another part of the blockage.

[Chris Wilson]

Chris wiped the blood from his face as she laughed at him trying to keep it from being obvious. Actually it was interesting to see her laugh. Since he had started his tirade of insults and attacks against her years back she had not shown any sign of being alive anymore. As much as he love to see her suffer it was good that she had a bit of spirit left in her though he wasn't sure as to why that was the case.

"I'm sure you question my approach but sometime tough love is the best kind." the use of the word love was a stretch in any aspect of how they interacted but it worked. Chris actually broke a smile with her, not one of pleasure at her torment but an genuine smile. Maybe she did have it in her to change after all. Maybe it would have been easier had he approached it like one would expect but that just was not his way of thinking.

"Look Fox, I may not be prefect." He paused a moment to think to himself. 'damn near though.' "But I don't just do this to torture you. Don't get me wrong I do enjoy it." He couldn't help but be the asshole. It was all he knew with her at this point. He did give it his best to control it right now.

Deep down Chris could see part of himself in her. She had lost someone and held it against herself. He was the same type and though it nearly never showed he could tell. One knows those who suffer from the same fate as themselves. After nearly sixteen years of holding it in himself he could spot that pain. Not to mention the occasional night she would wake from a dream, or nightmare. He had read her file and knew what happened, all the signs pointed to the same thing. "Tell you what I'll go wash this little mess off and if you are willing we'll use your help tonight."

She never did really want any part of the crews little missions but he would at least offer it up. "Not an order, just a request." He expected a no from her. It was mainly only an offer of peace to her. Something to smooth things over for the night. he knew as well as she did that this whole ordeal would go unnoticed by higher ups as neither of them were going to admit to what happened. She had hit him he had secured her silence for the night for both this and the little operation. "Never to late to learn how to be part of the family." It was one of the few olive branches extended to her in a long time, but he still expected the usual, not in your life' or 'no thanks' from her.

Really all it did was justify himself as being the good guy. Chris got up from his seat and walked over to her giving her plenty of room this time. He gave plenty of time for her to respond and then just stood there a moment. No words no looks, nothing. Just Chris and her standing there awkward as it maybe for them. "Is it really that hard to get past?" It was a bad question to ask and would be held against him but it was genuine and not meant to be an attack though surely perceived to be that. What he wanted to hear was not likely to happen. All he wanted was her to say no it wasn't, that anyone could get past it even a bastard of a captain like him.

[Viktoriya Gilyov]

She wanted to tell him no. The invitation itself wasn't something she'd really expected from him. He usually used the hazing of a new crew member as an excuse to take her aside and give her hell. It perpetuated the idea that she was like the babysitter of the group, that she'd report her comrades at the first chance. That wasn't the case. She'd been made aware of that thought about herself several times in the past, with nearly every new face to the squadron. The moment they'd slipped up in front of Fox, the nervous week waiting for reprimand that never came. Chris perpetuated it. From what he said... Gods, he didn't even seem to know what he was doing, where he'd driven her.

She wasn't shocked when he said he enjoyed torturing her. She knew that. And a bit before, it was certainly not a surprise to find out Captain Striker wasn't perfect. It was a bit of an awe-inducing moment to find out that he didn't think he was. He was probably the sort of douche bag who thought he was close enough without running over, though.

Again, he gave her the decision, and it wasn't much of one. She could tell him no and let it rock on as it always had, and he'd likely not extent the invitation again. Or she could give him a yes and show him that she'd play along with his family-building exercises. Chris hadn't liked her since she'd refused a similar rite of passage, and it had only gone downhill from there. As much as she didn't like Striker, and as much as she didn't want to be caught involved in something inappropriate... she'd already rattled Striker's walnut-brain tonight.

”I'll tag along,” came her reluctant response to his request. It was a middle ground between the Fox who'd have gone on to her bunk and whatever version of her he wanted to see. And, hopefully, he'd lighten her burden substantially if she sold just that segment of her soul. His comment struck her a little. Never too late to learn how to be part of the family. Except, she'd been part of a family. Just.. not his.

Is it really that hard to get past?

That question took her aback. She closed her eyes for a moment and tilted her head fractionally to the left, as if trying to catch the sound waves that had formed that sentence as they reverberated out of existence.

”Captain.. I hope with everything in me that you never have to find out.”

That was the truth. Whatever else Striker was, she didn't wish that experience on anyone. She and Striker differed in a very fundamental way. Fox had always seen the past as something that connected people. If she had suffered something, she related very keenly to those who'd suffered it as people she had something in common with... something she'd not have wished to have in common with anyone. Likewise, those who hadn't experienced something... she'd go out of her way to try to keep them from it. Striker was an antagonist, someone who just instigated and prodded wounds, stirred up pain without really understanding what he was doing to someone else. Or, rather, not really caring – it took a bit of understanding to do what he'd done to her tonight. He'd awakened her nightmares again for weeks to come. But, she'd drawn her line in the sand. She wasn't afraid to walk away from him. She wasn't going to suffer Snakebite's death... more than twice, now.

With that, she turned away and began toward the door. She intended to wash the blood of herself while Striker freshened up. She wondered what he'd tell the squadron... but, it wasn't really her problem. Her problem was acting surprised when she saw it... and not looking satisfied. That was the extent of her obligations toward his wound.

He'd deserved it.