I.P.R.N.S. Enterprise, Indy Europus System, 11 June 2407 (Military Calendar)
Thump, thump, thump!
Sokka held onto the punching bag, holding it steady for Azula to punch, not so much for martial arts training, but more for her to expel her anger in a somewhat constructive manner.
Thump, thump, THUMP!
Sokka held on, knowing that Azula was rightfully angry with the ship's captain, the executive officer, and the flight boss. The three of them decided that the flight compliment of the megacarrier was not sufficient to destroy the pirate's destroyer-carrier without incurring considerable casualties. Despite Azula's insistence they take the initiative and strike before the pirates move on, the ship's leadership decided to call for a task group consisting of a cruiser, a destroyer, and two frigates.
And each of those ships are carrying the remaining bombers, crews, support personnel, and assets of RMB-66 to join Sokka's element.
While he was excited to reunite with his squadron, he understands Azula's frustration for the Navy's caution.
Or cowardice, as he believes Azula sees it.
"Damn vacheads," Azula grumbled, using the unsavory term for the Navy voidsmen, just like they would use jarheads for Marines. "Preferring to avoid risks." She punched the bag more violently, causing Sokka to take a step back.
"Hey, Bluey," he said to get her attention, but she continued.
"We should be aboard an expeditionary flight ship, where real warriors have a stronger presence," she grumbled while continuing her assault on the bag, causing Sokka to feel unbalanced.
"Colonel," Sokka said sternly to get her attention, to no avail.
"We should have gone after those pirates when we had the chance! Now who knows where they are, doing who knows what!" She punched harder, making Sokka become unbalanced.
"Azula!" he shouted.
"What?!" she shouted back, before punching the bag harshly toward its top…
…and forcing it into Sokka's face, rocking his head back harshly and he fell to the deck rubbing his nose.
"Oh dammit," Azula said, taking her gloves off and rushing to aid Sokka with a towel. She knelt down next to him and offered him the towel. "Are you alright?"
Sokka took the towel to wipe the blood from underneath his nose, and he rubbed his nose next to see if it was broken. "Yeah, I'm okay," he said with a smile after confirming his nose was not broken. "Now I have an idea how bad it can be if I ever cross you."
"Like you can ever cross me," Azula said without much thought.
"Say again?" he asked with cheeky smile.
"Sorry, are you trying to cross me?" she countered, causing Sokka to laugh, but he decided not to press the issue. He stood to his feet and asked, "So would like to go for another round with the bag?"
"Not after it took its anger out on you instead of me," she said. "Besides the rest of your squadron is due within the next twelve hours, are you finished preparing for them?"
"By my standards, yes and then some," Sokka said confidently, "but by your standards…"
"You're not ready. Lets review your Marines, bombers, and everything else after we shower and change," she said before heading towards the locker rooms with Sokka on her heels. Once it was time to separate into the gendered locker rooms, Azula paused and said to Sokka, "You have fifteen minutes major." She walked into her respective locker room, leaving Sokka to his.
"Aye aye colonel," he answered. He momentarily fantasized that if they were to shower together, it would take them more than fifteen minutes just to get to the shower. He shook his head and took a deep breath, remembering that Azula likely does not see him that way.
Little does he know how wrong he was, as she set the time hack more for herself than for him.
After handing off their gym bags to the laundry drones, they proceeded to the maintenance bay where the Demon Dogs are preparing for the rest of their squadron to arrive. Azula and Sokka were discussing how to best impress the latter's commanding officer on how well the Enterprise operates.
Their conversation was interrupted by the following announcement: "Attention all hands, stand by for emergency warp jump. Flight crews report to your stations."
Both Azula and Sokka stopped to look at each other briefly. They both have been in the Marine Corps long enough to know that if a major warship like the Enterprise and its strike group must make an emergency warp jump, with flight crews to report to their station, it only means one thing:
Something terrible has happened.
The two aviators took off sprinting for their ready rooms dreading what could have happened to cause such a dramatic change of direction and plan for an entire strike group.
"Nailer!" Sokka called out while running to his locker to suit up for spaceflight. "Any idea what's going on?"
"No idea Bonehead," Nailer replied while finishing putting his flight boots on. "But from the all the comm chatter, the scuttlebutt is that a civilian supply convoy got hit."
"I heard it was a Navy prowler was found and destroyed," another bomber pilot said.
"No way," a flight officer interrupted, "the scuttlebutt I heard that it was a Navy task unit was hit hard."
"Alright enough of the scuttlebutt," Sokka said as suited up. "Whatever it is, its bad enough to call us in. Are the deck crews prepping our Forts for search and rescue?"
"That was the first order I gave before running here," Nailer answered.
"Good," Sokka said, always grateful that Nailer has learned to think ahead. He will make a great bomber commander one day soon.
But something told Sokka that day might be even closer than ever.
After suiting up and doing a quick check in with the deck crew and a walk around the Star Fortress, Sokka climbed aboard and settled into his seat, hooking up to the life support and comms.
"Alright crew, are we set up for search and rescue?" Sokka asked.
"Bomb bay is clear, EVA equipment is all in the green," Richy responded.
"Medical gear is all set sir," replied Staff Sergeant William Knapp, one of the squadron's emergency medical technicians.
"Glad to have you aboard Doc Knapp," Sokka answered. "Newbie? How's our sensors looking?"
"Uh, sensors are ready to scan on all IPR emergency frequencies major," Newbie replied nervously, still getting use to flying real-life missions.
"Just stay calm and focused Newbie, you're going to do fine," Sokka replied confidently. "Nailer, Woody, let's go through the pre-flight checklist." The three of them went through the checklist before following up with the rest of the crew for their positions. Their bomber, now a search and rescue craft, was ready for flight.
Unable to escape the dread of what awaits them, the crew silently waited for the order to take off from Enterprise flight control.
"Attention all hands, dropping out of warp jump in thirty seconds… mark!" the ship's captain announced. "Flight crews, prepare for immediate launch."
"You heard the skipper Marines," Sokka announced. "Time to save some lives."
After the Enterprise shut down its warp drive, Sokka's bomber was moved into the launch bay by the deck crew and was hooked up to the electromagnetic launch system. Once the deck crew retreated to safety, the countdown began and launched Sokka, his crew, and their bomber into the void, along with the three other bombers of Sokka's element and the entirety of Azula's squadron, the Devilcats, along with Naval flight squadrons to assist in search and rescue…
Or to take vengeance on those responsible for this catastrophe.
"Uploading the coordinates from the latest distress call major," Newbie said. "Transferring them to your HUD now."
"Thanks Newbie," Sokka said before keying the radio. "Devilcat lead, this is Blue Dog lead, we're beginning search and rescue operations. Sensors set to all rescue frequencies."
"Roger Blue Dog," Azula responded over the radio, giving Sokka a sense of relief knowing she was in the void with him. "We'll provide cover while you focus on search and rescue."
"Many thanks Devilcats," Sokka replied. "Newbie, picking up anything?"
"I'm getting four pings major," Newbie replied, "but at this distance, its likely to be merchant ships."
"Or Navy warships," Nailer added dreadfully.
"We don't know that yet," Sokka interrupted. "Just stay focused on your instruments Marines."
It was tense as the spacecraft approached where the latest distress signal was heard.
And what Sokka saw mad his throat tighten up.
"Newbie," he said as calmly as possible, "do you have the identity of that Naval task group?" He hoped it would not be the one carrying the rest of their squadron, but seeing the task group consisting of a cruiser, a destroyer, and two frigates, all of which were damaged from mild to severe, did not cast much hope for Sokka.
Newbie swallowed the lump in his throat before responding. "It Task Group Two-Seven-Seven, the one carrying the balance of our squadron."
Richy summed up everyone's feelings by shouting a string of obscenities.