Feb 05 00:15:14 108 PA - Learning to Fly, Baby Steps
From Chronicles
Feb 05 00:15:14 108 PA.
LANDING STRIP
The day has dawned with surprising warmth. Early February is still definitely winter, but perhaps Mother Nature's going to stop being such a bitch. While other parts of the city are still blanketed in thick snow, the landing strip has been, by necessity, cleared of most everything save for the muddy slush that can't be helped when not actually on the tarmac. Gabriel is off to one side, where traffic is nonexistent, with his light overcoat hanging from the natural bough of a nearby tree. His gloves and woolen cap are similarly placed. However, despite the efficient and neat positioning of his clothing, he's equally chaotic when it comes to fussing over a Falcon 300 jet pack that he really doesn't seem to know what to do with other than look at it and lift it up a few times.
Erica comes walking up to the landing strip in her Triax armor. She quickly crosses across the landing strip in powerful strides. Her Triax made jet pack is attached to the back of her armor. Walking up to Gabriel she looks at him with her cyclopean helmet. "Why aren't you in your armor?" She asks while taking off a knapsack and laying it on the tarmac.
"Well, good morning to you too, Miss Erica," Gabriel says with a grin. Then, however, as this is obviously his first lesson and he knows nothing about what he's supposed to be doing, he asks, "Why do I need armor? Learning's learning, right? Are you expecting an attack?" He glances around the landing strip. "Where'd you get.. never mind, we can talk about that later. So what's first?"
Erica rolls her eyes unseen in her armor before answering. "You need your armor to attach the jet pack to. And if you try to fly without your armor you will die of a couple of terrible causes like exposure. So go get your armor on. I'll wait." She says with a shake of her helmet. She unslings an energy rifle from her shoulders and props it up against the knapsack. "I wouldn't want to know how you think your going to put your jet pack on without armor." She says with a little laugh to herself.
With a raised eyebrow, Gabriel comments, "I saw Flash Gordon do it... but okay," and he's off. Chugging west. Not at a sprint, not at a stroll, but at a pace that looks like it could be kept up for a long, long time, eating up a lot of ground. It's a good distance to his little home, so while thirty-minutes may seem like a long time to return, it's really quite impressive. Particularly considering that when he comes to a halt before his instructor, he isn't even winded. This is obvious because his helmet isn't on. "Air's nice today, Miss Erica." He thumps an armored gauntlet against his chest, and makes a failed attempt at reaching around to thump his back. "Okay, got it. Can I leave my helmet off?" His gaze is directed efficiently between both Erica's eye and his shiny new jet pack.
"Sure you can keep it off for now, but keep in mind you will need to wear it for when you are flying most times. It is too bad you don't have a decent heads up display, or computer screens in your armor." Erica says as she stands up from where she was sitting on the tarmac. She was doing a little work on her energy rifle where she was waiting. "Ok so a jet pack works by intaking air and then shooting it out at a very rapid speed. While this makes for a very powerful engine it will take a lot of getting used to. Balance and acceleration with a jet pack takes a great deal of learning and trial and error. It is too bad you don't have an internal gyroscope. Very very useful to have." She shrugs her armored shoulders then moves over to Gabriel's jet pack. She lifts it off the ground with no visible effort. "Ok so for right now I'm going to attach it to your back and then you can walk around to get used to the weight." She moves over behind Gabriel and starts expertly attaching the pack to Gabriel's armor.
"If you say so. So it's like a regular ol' jet, right? Like the F-86? A Pratt & Whitney turbojet?" Gabriel nudges his pack with a toe. "But obviously smaller. With a different fuel source." He looks up at Erica's armored visage, quite proud, adding, "I bought the one that doesn't need gasoline." That said and done, he crouches down to examine the pack. There it is. Sitting on the ground. Mocking him. Daring him. Thumbing its nose at him, straps just begging to be pulled. So he does. "It is a lot lighter than I expected, Miss Erica. Discovered that when I bought the damn thing. But it's.. ah.." he grunts a few times, "...kind of clunky to get on your back, you know? Especially with this fucking armor on. Not like a duffel. Shit. Can you get my arm?" Inspection will reveal that his left arm is caught in an excellent joint-lock between his armor and the pack's strap.
Many machines are stored or move around the landing field. Now another exits from one of the storage hangars. Davirok slithers its way between humanoids and equipment towards a less cluttered and active area. It has equipment of its own in the form of a large cylindrical device that lies along its dorsal surface.
"That was a good call. Electricity is often easier to find than gasoline. Can always use an e-clip or two." She mentions while she makes some last adjustments to the jet pack. She adjusts the straps so that it slides onto Gabriel's back easily. "You don't want a heavy jet pack that would be a problem. Maybe next time you can try out my armor and jet pack. I think it would be much easier for you to learn." She says as she finishes adjusting the jet pack. "Ok walk around a bit. Get used to the weight. Maybe do a lap or two. You will want to wear it more often then not. Really think about the gyroscope. It isn't too expensive."
There's a simple nod of his head, a glance up at the slithery metal creature, then Gabriel does exactly as he was told. Military men, particularly good ones, know how to listen and take to heart lessons given to them by those with superior knowledge. This man from Kentucky is one of those types of military men. He walks off, wobbling at first like a toddler, but then continuing to waddle, looking like it may be intentional. As he levels out, he walks a good one-hundred yards down the strip before turning and heading back, increasing his speed - but only by a little bit. Eventually, he nears his instructor, but keeps walking, and then starts wobbling again, with that same intentional look. "Trying to throw myself to the ground," he explains briefly. Then as he passes, he asks, "So I can just pull a clip out of my bag, plug it in somewhere, and fly off?" He looks back to Erica sheepishly. "I have to admit, I bought this brand shiny and new, but without a lot of information on how it actually works. I haven't found an instruction manual, either." Then he wobbles past, but not out of earshot.
Erica glances over at the slithering creature for a moment. She splits off part of the computer screen inside her helmet and instructs her computer to track the creature while she keeps working with Gabriel. "Well not exactly like that. The pack has it's own internal battery. You'll just be able to charge it off of things that have electricity like e-clips." At Gabriel's comment she shakes her head. "You didn't buy it off of the manufacturer? That wasn't good. You should always read the manual of equipment you own. That is how you know how to maintain and use it. Well no worrying about past mistakes I guess." She calls out to Gabriel. "Well when your ready I'll show you the controls for it.
Davirok notices the armored pair after it passes the heavy activity, although it is Gabriel's strange wobbling movement that keeps its attention. The undulations of its body quicken to speed an approach to the humanoids, Gabriel first. "If you fall," is voiced through a speaker, "will you stand, or be helpless, a sl'vorkist on its back?
The older man nods his head, then attempts a faster maneuver, an about-face. Gabriel manages to face about, and then fall to the ground, leading with his face. Fortunately, he catches himself with a strong arm. "Oops," he says with a blush. With that attempt at bravado a complete failure, he simply gets back to his feet and then walks - normally - back to Erica. "The weight really isn't bad, and the armor takes most of it, since it's rigid. Shouldn't hurt my back any more than a heavy combat pack." He then slips on something that really wasn't his fault, and falls backward, windmilling his arms like a cartoon. But Gabriel manages to spin around and land on his shoulder with a clatter, keeping the jet pack from hitting anything. It's brand new, and you don't want to ding those kinds of things. As he once more gets to his feet, he says, "No, I didn't go to a manufacturer. You know 'Mom 'n Pop's Tech Shoppe' down on Steel Street? It was sitting in their front window, and well.. I just thought that it looked like a good deal. They were very nice." Soon, he's back with Erica. "Okay, walking. Not really mastered, but I can do it." His eyes then light up like a child's. "Should I try running?!" Perhaps his own falls have answered the slithering metal creature whom he probably didn't hear, due to his... falling.
Erica turns her cyclopean helmet to the slithering creature. "He will be able to get himself standing." She mentions before turning back to Gabriel. She has had enough military to know how to drill and teach recruits. "Yes you should try a good run. You'll want to have the jet pack attached at all times. You need to get used to the weight. Just as I'm sure you were made to run with a full pack of gear you need to be able to do that with the jet pack. A fifty pound backpack and a fifty pound jet pack are about the same thing."
The question is answered and Davirok appears satisfied. It makes no further noise other than the patter of metal scales as it coils. Davirok is an observer and so it observes.
"Yes ma'am," is offered - ironically, not a 'Miss Erica' - then Gabriel leans forward slightly and starts up that efficient, ground-eating, chugging pace. As he's facing away, the older man finds it necessary to raise his voice. "I guess that the Lazlo Defense Force gave you your piece of kit?" Soon, however, he's out of even realistic, reasonable yelling range. When he reaches about another one-hundred yards he attempts another about-face - and is successful this time. His hands are cupped around his mouth, and just barely carried on the breeze may be the words, "You want me to try to sprint back??!"
No I got my equipment from a friend of mine who was from NGR. He was retiring and thought I could make use of it." Erica calls out over her armor loud speaker. "Yes a sprint back would be great. Then I want you to try a squatting walk. Ok so there is a remote for your jet pack that you can strap to the inside of your palm. Using little movements of your hand you can control the thrust, and direction of that thrust. With a lot of practice you will be able to learn how to hover. That way you can take shots even high up in the air."
"Internal controls are more efficient," Davirok speaks again, to Erica rather than the distant Gabriel. Other than this comment, it only observes as the human practices not falling to the ground under the weight of its own equipment. Learning how Gabriel performs in the air will be interesting.
Distantly, Gabriel offers a semi-salute. Recognition of a military man - woman - but not one in the same branch, or even the same country. He then leans forward, much farther this time, and starts to run, quickly picking up speed as the balls of his feet are the only portion of his body in contact with the ground. Using basic sixth-grade math, someone could calculate by his arrival time that he somehow managed an average speed of around fifteen-miles per hour, even in all that gear, even over the length of a football field. He's only barely winded when he stops. "Not bad. The inertia helps stabilize you once you get going," he says. "At least, it did for me." He's then rather comically spinning around on his heels, looking over his shoulder and beneath his arms, searching for a remote of some kind.
"My controls are much more efficient. But my armor jet pack are designed with a much better interface. They use my headjack as well which is nice." Erica says in an offhand manner to the creature that is observing. "Ok nice run. Now time for the squatting walk. Give me a squat walk back and forth and after that we will play with the controls a little bit. Keep in mind you want to be able to control the thrust of the jet pack like an artist. Little adjustments here and there. No big adjustments. Specially since you don't have a way of finding out which way is up and which way is down. Use micro adjustments so you don't over-correct." She offers as advice to Gabriel while she watches him practice. "The remote is wireless so it should have come with the jet pack. I hope you at least got that. Maybe you should buy from the manufacturer next time."
Gabriel's head nods. "Oh, that thing. Like of looks like a small baseball that's been flattened? Yeah, they gave me that." Presumably he's addressing the issue of the remote. "I think that I might have accidentally left it back at camp." He then waddles off, squatting lower and lower as he goes, using extended arms and hands to steady himself. He does finally sound a little questioning about this move, though. "So... this is for hiding? Strength training? Or just balance?" Squat waddle waddle squat waddle.
Davirok expresses air from its snout, as it is. There is no further comment to Erica and it turns its face towards the waddling Gabriel. "Mammals always look as if falling when move. You make it look more like that."
"If you have to be sneaky, or just move while using cover it is very useful. Keep in mind every way you are going to want to move in combat you will need to be able to move with your jet pack." Erica says as reaches up to take off her helmet. She detaches it and puts it under her arm. Reaching up with one hand she scratches the tip of her nose and then adjusts the bun that her long hair is up in. "Well you are going to have to go back and get it. It should be small enough to just be the inside of your palm. That way can use a rifle while still controlling your flight. Takes a bit getting used to, but I am sure you'll be able manage it after enough practice."
Waddle squat waddle squat squat. Gabriel makes a full circle, perhaps twenty-yards across and returns to Erica. Standing, he observes.. her hair. "Nice bun. Sabine wore her hair like that all the time." He seems a little, "not quite there" for a few seconds, then smiles again and asks, "You want me to actually run and get the thing now? Shouldn't you punch me in the gut or something to make sure that I don't fall over?" Oddly enough, the statement sounds like an honest-to-God question, not a silly euphemism.
Erica starts chuckling to herself and shrugs her shoulders. "Alright a little sparing won't hurt. Just keep in mind I punch pretty hard." She takes her helmet from under her arm and seals it over her head. She takes a couple steps away from her knapsack and energy rifle and moves into a readied stance. "Ok tell me when you are ready and I'll come at you."
This is an unexpected development. Davirok did consider honoring Gabriel's request, but it does not need to once Erica answers it. Silent once more, Davirok returns to simple observation.
The older man looks briefly between his empty hands, then just holds them out rather diagonally at shoulder-level. Gabriel's head remains sans-helmet, but hopefully his instructor isn't going to try to teach him a lesson with the but of a rifle to an unarmored face. Even in the Raiders, they used slightly-padded pugil sticks for that kind of thing. Well, at least they did at first. He just nods. Once.
Erica moves surprisingly quickly at almost thirty six kilometers per hour. She closes the the distance and then swings to hit the older man right in the stomach. Her fist hits with her full force, not holding back on the other military trained man. After the strike she dances away quickly to watch to see what Gabriel's reaction will be to the blow. "
Davirok only watches the training. Balance is relevant but it has yet to fully comprehend the purpose of the attack.
The blow is fast, the blow is hard, the blow is somehow absorbed by Gabriel's armored abdomen and a couple of deft steps backward which changes the impulse of the blow, denying the necessary acceleration for enough force to knock him off of his feet. Still, it almost seems as if he just got really lucky somehow. He shakes his head with a smile. "Wow, nice shot! Remind me to call your name the next time a bar fight breaks out." He resets his stance, and waves some fingers toward his chest, poking at his sternum. "Right here."
Erica grins slightly as she nods her head in an approving manner as Gabriel manages to keep his footing. "We will have to arm wrestle some time." She says with a slight laugh. As Gabriel points at his chest she nods her head and steps forward to punch Gabriel right in the sternum. She moves back to watch after the punch lands. "Alright now Gabriel why don't you throw a couple shots at me. Then we should be pretty good on all the balance training." She says as she stands a few feet away from Gabriel.
"Why not test balance in the air?" Davirok eventually asks after continuing to watch. "Or is this another mating dance?" It remembers the pair that knocked each other over in the Alibi. This could be something similar.
Even Gabriel looks surprised when he maintains his balance against the heavy blow. "Wow! I can't believe that I was able to.. uah.. uh.. hooo..." Aww, the poor guy begins to fall anyway. Not too badly, but he does end up hitting the ground with one knee and the palm of his armored hand. He laughs a little. "I spoke too soon." After gathering himself and rising to his feet, he nods at his instructor and flexes his hands into fists. Apparently he's ambidextrous. As he cocks back an arm - he stops, drops his hands and turns to the metallic serpent. "What the fuck?" The Kentuckian shakes his head briskly side-to-side. "No, this isn't a mating dance! Miss Erica is what -" he looks at her "- fifteen years younger than me? Yes, very pretty, of course, but I've been... mated, as I told you yesterday, and I won't ever be again, Slick. Natasha was wonderful, and could never be replaced or even compared to. Plus," he holds up an important finger. "The 'human mating dance' does not involve punching each other and inflicting pain." As he returns to Erica, he clarifies himself. "Well... not normally." He then tosses a punch toward Erica's shoulder, as that's a good spot to unbalance people.
Erica turns her helmet to look at the creature that is offering commentary. "What exactly are you anyways?" She asks over the speaker while turning her attention back to Gabriel. She grunts as the blow hits her in the shoulder. Rolling a bit with the impact she manages to keep most of her balance. "Good you are doing very well. Let us move on to some actual thrust exercises. But we will need the controller for your jet pack. You'll have to go get it. Then we can try some blasts from the pack. Get you used to it. Maybe we can even start on powered leaps."
The older man turns to go, but stops.. pauses.. and turns back, shaking his head. "I don't know, ma'am. This is my first day of Basic. Seems like I should be doing pushups with it, you putting a foot on my neck or something. I got lucky when you hit me. By all rights, I really should've gone down." Gabriel appears very serious. "Of course, if we were training troops to be shipped off to fight the Japs in the South Pacific and Roosevelt was happy with just bodies with rifles, that would be fine. Fortunately, such is not the point. If you're willing to take some time, I'd appreciate the slow and gentle version." He glances over his shoulder and then grins. "I hope that I'm not supposed to do unassisted back flips in this thing. Although...." Gabriel attempts just such a flip. Gabriel lands on top of his shiny new jet pack in a loud crunch and a blur of expletives about how it is no longer such a shiny new jet pack.
Davirok focuses on Gabriel, first. It requires some time to parse all that he says. "Did the question anger you?" That is a only a guess, which is the reason this question is asked. In the meantime, it pans it's head to the trainer. "I am an observer."
Erica laughs softly and shrugs her shoulders. "Well we will keep close to the what we are doing now then." She grins inside her helmet as Gabriel attempts to do a back flip. Shaking her head briefly she laughs over the speaker. "That didn't quite go well. Here let me try." She says as jumping up high and spinning around before landing the flip. "Just takes a little practice, and years and years of gymnastic classes." She says with a little chuckle. She turns her head back to Davirok but doesn't say anything as he doesn't really answer her question.
Gabriel gathers himself off of the ground by rolling first onto his side, then onto his stomach, and then pushing himself to his feet. Sheepishly, he looks at Erica and turns his back to her. "Is it broken? Nice flip by the way. I didn't have time for gymnastics growing up in the Depression, and the Raiders, the CIA... sure, be agile, but back flips aren't horribly useful in combat." After a pause, "Well, at least, not what I learned to be combat." His eyes briefly shift to the metal serpent. "The question didn't anger me. I'm just being very, very specific, because some things require it."
"I understand," is Davirok's reply to Gabriel. The two words are all that it speaks for now, with no comments from the other to return and its intent to observe unobtrusively. Relatively speaking.
"Those things are designed to get hit by a laser or some rail gun rounds and keep working. You aren't going to accidentally crush it." Erica says with a little chuckle in her voice. "No back flips aren't very good in combat. Except when flying they can be helpful. If you have a SAMAS coming up behind you. Being able to turn around safely and quickly is very helpful, but that isn't quite the same as a back flip."
Nods all around. Gabriel searches for something. There. No. Over there? Nope. There? Maybe. He points off in the direction of a semi-derelict piece of what may have at some point been a helicopter. "Okay, so let's say that I'm in the air, and the jets cut out. What then? I end up like that thing? I brace myself? 'cause I don't think my knees could take much more than the twenty-five foot drop that I've been conditioned for."
"Well if your engines cut out and your high up in the air well then you are dead. Make sure you maintain your equipment. Also be aware of the charge on your jet pack. Most electric models come with a watch so that you can check the charge on it." Erica says with a shrug of her armored shoulders. She reaches up and takes off her helmet again. "Listen jet packs are dangerous. Just like flying is dangerous. However here you don't have a parachute. If you get shot down you will die." She looks a little grim. "So don't get shot down and learn how to dodge and move in the air. Learn your balance perfectly and have every advantage. Listen a gyrocompass is only 600 credits. If you are serious about this you should be serious about the gyrocompass. It won't make you less of a man or any bullshit like that. I have three different implants and I am not some sort of monster."
Gabriel nods at the possibility of wise knowledge, but can't help but ask questions. The first one is childlike. "Um... what's it like to have something in your head like that? Do you see north? Do you just think it?" He then dips his neck in a method that a child might do as a cringe. "Can you feel it? How do they put it in?"
"It is like getting another sense. Now if you just get that and nothing else you will need a watch to look at the feed. It is just like knowing the directions and what your angle is. Very useful. Mine is hooked up to my headjack so I can just plug my armor into my headjack and it will display my gyrocompass, my built in language translator, and my built in radio." Erica says as she tries to explain what it is like. "They just put you under and it is a quick surgery. You can get the gyro compass implanted in like a day. The built in radio where you can sub-vocalize is very useful. I can scout up ahead and report easily."
The older man narrows his left eye ever-so-slightly. "What happens to the piece of brain, or bone, or whatever it is that used to occupy that space? I mean, that stuff was supposed to be there, right?"
"Uh you have a lot of space inside you. We are talking about a very very small radio. And the gyrocompass is very small as well. There is plenty of extra space inside you nothing gets replaced." Erica explains as she walks over to her knapsack and sits down beside it.
Gabriel follows his instructor, and as she sits down, he takes the time to apparently and officially end the jet pack portion of the lesson. Awkwardly reaching behind to unlatch certain special hooks and slipping from straps does not turn out entirely successful, however. Blushing, he turns his back to Erica. "Ah, little help, please? This is my first day. Hopefully only that thing is watching." Judging by the use of his jaw, 'that thing' is Davirok, the steel snake. Incidentally, 'The Steel Snake' is the stage-name of one of Kingsdale's most famous, most popular pornographic actors.
Erica gets back up to her feet and helps Gabriel remove the jet pack. She fiddles with the straps and helps Gabriel off with the heavy pack. "Ah there you go. Practice taking it off and on when you have time. It will take some getting used to." She moves the jet pack easily off to the side. "So how are things going besides trying to catch up to current technology?"
The 'Steel Snake' continues to watch, evidenced by the pan of its head to follow Gabriel and Erica. Depending on how far they move, it may uncoil enough to relocate to a comfortable viewing distance. For itself.
If things were not noisy enough, they are about to get noisier. In the distance, there is a large aircraft on approach. It is especially visible thanks to its landing gear lights. Another aircraft has just taken off, heading in the opposite direction. What really makes a commotion though is dark shape quite suddenly appears over one wall of the airfield across from the runway, and crosses over it with the characteristic thunder of powerful-not-meant-for-civilian-use jet engines. Once it is just past the middle of the runway, it banks in the direction of the arriving aircraft, turning hard enough to generate visible vapor trails over most of the fuselage, as well as gaining altitude. It travels parallel to the runway like this for perhaps a half of a minute, and another hard turn has it coming around again to line up with the runway, gear and flaps extending. This approach is far less noisy, and the aircraft lands on main landing gear, rolling down the runway with its nose held up for a while, then exits onto a taxiway and is directed to one of the parking spaces set aside for arrivals. The pilot is visible through the canopy, and a few of the people working here are pointing at the fighter. "Hey, he's back!"
"Oh, well enough. Not much cash right now, but not much in the way of expenses, either. You know how it goes." He'll attempt to clap Erica's shoulder playfully. "Thanks for the lesson, Drill Instructor. Before we get on with pleasantries, please, how much do I owe you. Don't tell me that it's free, Miss Erica -" ah, there it is again "- you have to let me compensate you somehow." Gabriel's attention is, not surprisingly, diverted as the noising thing comes to a barely-not-crash-landing across the tarmac. "What the fuck was that?" He looks to Erica again. "Hey, I'll catch you later, okay? You just run up that bill for me."
Davirok raises and tips its head skyward towards the noise and maneuvering of the craft that approaches and lands. "It is an aircraft." Gabriel did ask the obvious, so it answers the same. If there is significance to the identity of the pilot, Davirok is oblivious.
"Oh I have to let you pay me?" Erica says if a half angry tone as she pokes Gabriel with an armored finger before she chuckles to herself. "It can be free if I want it to be. Nothing wrong with a few lessons." She shakes her head as she picks up her knapsack and energy rifle. "It is a landing strip. Have to expect aircraft." She says with a wry grin. "Maybe you can fill up an eclip or two for me sometime. Sides this will make you more useful, and that helps my interests since I fight alongside you from time to time." She offers Gabriel a quick wave then gives a quick nod to the creature. "See you all later."
The canopy begins to rise, and a set of stairs is brought alongside the aircraft once the engines have would down, allowing the pilot to exit and steps down. There is a second seat in the jet, but it is not occupied. Jack takes the helmet off, greeting the crew that has come to look after the newly arrived plane.
"Fucking fly-boys always have hard-ons for themselves. Dumb broads bend over and suck their dicks because it's more glorious than the infantry." There's an older man off the side of the tarmac, older than most anyone else in Kingsdale who might be considered as an 'adventurer.' He's in armor, sans-helmet, and in the middle of hefting a jet pack. "Wars have never been won by aircraft. Takes boots on the ground." The speech is probably not actually audible from any reasonable distance, as the man is a quiet person at heart. But it's still said. Another comment about the average intelligence of the people out there cheering concludes Gabriel's statement.
The fighter itself does not look like anything that gets manufactured these days. It is a fairly large aircraft, close to sixty feet long and of the twin-engine, twin-vertical stabilizer variety. Sleek in general. Jack takes some time to talk to the crew a little, and they point here and there at the aircraft, sometimes in some cardinal direction. Probably half of it is about beer, the other half about maintenance. "I'll be back for the work in a bit, had to sit in it for a few hours so I have to stretch my legs."
"It is an inferior aircraft," Davirok notes after a brief survey. A simple observation, or related to Gabriel's comments, which it could be near enough to receives. "No wars would be won by it."
Gabriel shakes his head. He's not stupid, it's more advanced than what he's used to - but just about everything is more advanced than what he's used to. "You say so, Slick," the older man comments as he begins to march west toward the main road leading out of Kingsdale. Apparently, the aircraft and its pilot hold no special interest for him.
Jack is probably not close enough to hear it and start an argument, or perhaps he does not care; and he too begins to walk towards the main road, though likely to head into the city himself. "Where to go, whom to call .. hm."
Davirok turns its attention to Gabriel. "I did." Rather than try to decipher that strange question, it asks a more practical one. "If you learn to fly with that," an appendage indicates the jet pack, "you will become a 'fly-boy?'" The literal translation makes the assumption quite logical.
"No, I'll become the modern version of airborne infantry. Not a hot-shit fly-boy pilot," Gabriel states as he passes the slithery steel creature. The Steel Snake. He doesn't stop, but he does slow enough to ask, "So, you learn anything today, Slick? Maybe what the human mating dance does *not* look like?" The speech comes out in a very thick Kentucky drawl - like it always does.
"Because that would take too long, and who needs that!" Jack interjects briefly, while checking something on that PDA. "Hm, dead dinosaurs cost more now, what else is new ... " a shrug, and he shuts the thing off, putting it back inside his pocket.
At this point, it can't be helped, and Gabriel is nothing if not a man who does his best to be polite despite the circumstances. However, if and when the pilot is within proper greeting range, it will be nothing more than a short nod of his head, and a, "Good morning." He continues on his way west, picking up the pace again. A good pace.
"I did," Davirok confirms as it uncoils. Another question is considered, but Gabriel has continued onward and increased speed. A definite indication that he is leaving. The ophidian begins to move towards the airfield and the equipment there. Machines are less confusing than mammals.
"Yes, good morning Sir" Jack replies, nodding his head; he doesn't look particularly worked up or anything, in fact it appears that as far as he is concerned, everything is in good humour. You have just received a vote.
Neither does Gabriel look annoyed. Doesn't mean that he can't offer up an opinion, though. In fact, under normal conditions, he'd probably have stayed around to meet the man and and given him a shot. In the future, it's likely to happen as well. To be fair, he turns to the metal creature and says, "See you later, Slick. I have work to get to." Then to the other pilot, "No doubt we all have to work to earn a living. Have a good day." Then, if there's no more intrusion, he'll eventually just cross the main road leading from the city and disappear down one of the small trails leading into the northwestern forest.
Davirok is again prompted to ask a question; the same as before. Instead, it only reminds the departing Gabriel that "I am not called Slick." Davirok also reaches the main road and pauses in its movement to scrutinize the pilot from a closer vantage point.
"Us officers, you know, we just ... " Jack pauses for a moment, then continues the joke " ... um ... what DO we do?" he wonders, cocking a brow. That is interrupted by a loud clunk and something spilling from one of the wings of the fighter. Jack turns around, looking only a little surprised by that. "Alright, well ... if it isn't leaking, it can't be flying anyway. 'Scuse me" and he starts back towards the aircraft.
