Three Strikes [✓]

Eastern Wind

"That's only partly true," Brownie corrected, swallowing her food quickly so she could talk. "They pulled that card on him and explained the drone problem and everything, but he doesn't seem too mad about it. Of course, he probably let off some steam by talking to Clown since he likes to be at least somewhat level headed when talking to us."

"Yeah...I guess he just wants to be the glue that holds everyone together..." She began to slouch a little in her seat as the conversation started to die down. Naomi and Brownie usually got along pretty well, but they had a lot of differences when it came to interests and hobbies, so a lot of conversation was usually talking about their squadron, funny stuff so and so did, who got yelled at, etcetera. It was all they had in common, really.

Putting their differences aside to get along and be what one might consider 'friends' wasn't too hard, but debates weren't uncommon if the topic ever shifted into interests and preferences and hobbies. For every one similarity they managed to find at least six differences came with it. Similarities? The Air Force was their passion early on, they both enjoyed the arts, and doing stuff outside was the best. Differences? Too many. For example, Brownie preferred movies and Naomi liked books; Brownie liked dogs and Naomi liked both but preferred cats; Brownie was an early bird and Naomi was a night owl. It went on and on.

That wasn't to say they didn't make an effort to get along. "Boggard and Footpad are getting some of the others together for another poker game today, if you're interested," Brownie offered after breakfast. Naomi opened her mouth to decline the invitation, but Brownie tried to get her to agree regardless. "Oh, c'mon. Don't use the excuse that you don't know how the game works. You watched us play so I know you know how at this point."

Naomi smiled and followed Brownie out. "Fine. But I'm not sitting next to Boggard and he can't deal, either. First game y'all played, he cheated like there was no tomorrow."

"Fair enough."

|...|...|...|

May 17th, 2019.
0650hrs.

HQ had told them the previous evening that they were all to report for a briefing at 0700, having finally figured out what their next move was. The full day of relaxation, if you could call it that, had softened most of the pilots to the point where they groaned and moped about all through dinner that night. Regardless, they were all up bright and early to prepare for the day, and on time as well.

Naomi, Brownie, and a pilot they called Faun stepped into the briefing room together. Faun was always sort of just 'there' and liked to stay in the background for the most part. He was lanky and always well-groomed, and had a natural charm about him. Everyone seemed to trust him and he was probably one of the saner, experienced pilots on the base, aside from Knocker.

"Room's packed again," Faun observed as he took an empty seat, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, moving sluggishly as if he was still half-asleep. Brownie and Naomi joined him, Naomi relaxing in almost the same manner. Brownie was the only one of the three of them that was actually completely awake and ready to go whenever. Faun took some persuasion and a couple of cups of coffee, whereas Naomi could wake up completely by way of extremely cold water. Caffeine and Naomi didn't mix.

Faun leaned forward after a few minutes on the rather uncomfortable chair after he grew tired awkward position he was in. "Briefer isn't even here, yet," he pointed out. "Must've fallen back asleep, eh?" Naomi lifted her head and surveyed the room. Faun was right. No briefer, no base commander. Knocker wasn't there, either. "Can't believe we had to get our asses out of bed this early to be on time and the briefing probably won't start for another thirty minutes..."