Training Log: Cadet Matthew T. Warren,
September 15, 2528, 0100 hours
Holly and I went into town for a romantic dinner after training finished for the day. It’s going well between us, better than any of my high school relationships. Looks like I’ll have a date for Christmas and New Years.
We returned to the campus at 10, where Holly chose to go to bed, but I decided to have a drink with Liam in the bar. We’d only just started when a fight broke out between Jack Della Bosca and Marc Casey, one of the second year-cadets, who was on bar duty this week. The bar was cleared out quickly, and Liam and I went back to our rooms.
I got back to the room at 11:00 pm to find Val sitting at the table, which was covered in leaflets, the ones we got at a seminar on the elective courses next year a few days ago.
Before I could say anything he asked me about my date with Holly. “It was at a seafood restaurant by the bay. Meals around $30 each. Good background music, pleasant conversation. We split the tab.”
Val nodded, approving. “And she’s not here because…”
“Waiting for the third date. So anyway, what’s with the brochures?” He explained that he was trying to choose an elective, and that he'd set himself a deadline for it – the end of September. I rolled my eyes. “There's already a deadline, and it's seven months away. What's the hurry?”
“I can't fly for shit, I need to spend the next seven months practicing for wherever I end up, because, right now, I can't see myself on a carrier.”
Alarm bells started ringing in my head. This is not the guy I met the day we moved in. I sat down. “Val, you are ten times the pilot I am. I'm doing mechanics because it's the only path I have to a carrier. My flight rating in the entrance exam was 56, I'm never going to be a frontline fighter. What was yours?”
Val looked up. “95. But that was on a glorified arcade game. It didn't have kamikaze pilots and friggin' simulated wind. It also didn't have the capacity to wipe out your entire squadron in the process.”
So that’s what this was about. Not surprising, the rest of the class hadn’t exactly been supportive. “Dude, that was not your fault. It probably would have happened no matter who was leading, none of would have been any more prepared for the wind than you were. Anyway, no one knows why the entire network crashed, it must have been badly connected or the wrong program was chosen or something. I don't know, I’m not an expert. But, again, not your fault.”
“Doesn't change the fact that no one is talking to me. Except you and Selina and Holly.”
“Well, Holly isn't, but that's not…” I paused, kicking myself. True, Holly hadn't been talking to him, but she'd been kind of fixated on me since we met. “No one blames you anymore except Della Bosca and if you’d seen him in the bar downstairs, you wouldn’t be listening to him either. You just need to put yourself out there. Help Marcus with the simulators and prove you're good at something. To the squadron and yourself.”
Val reluctantly agreed, but I don't think I've had that much of an effect. The guy is in serious need of a confidence booster or he'll end his career before it starts.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Chapter 3
Training Log: Second-Year Cadet David J. Harrison
September 8, 2528, 1800 hours.
OK, where to begin...
The fighter simulators are still crashed, thanks to Cadet Porter. OK, that's kind of unfair, but in spite of his computer talents, he hasn't been willing to step forward and help fix the program. I guess he's trying to avoid attention. The only people speaking to him are Cadets Warren and Cassidy. The hostility has mostly died down though, except from Cadet Della Bosca, for some reason.
Without access to the simulators, Commodore Fraser's been filling in classes with lectures about his war experiences. The first lecture was how the war started, but of course, we all know that one: how terrorist leader Fillipo Bolichet seized control of guerrilla cells in six countries, arranged six simultaneous coups and annexed half of South America in a matter of weeks, merging it into one country: “The People's Democratic Republic of Usogumbia.”
Actually, it was largely democratic, for the first couple of years, and the regime was nothing but beneficial for its citizens, which is why the UN never took action against them. Until, supposedly as a result of overpopulation, Bolichet made the decision to invade Panama and conquer it. An expansion that the UN considered unjustifiable.
Open war broke out after the failure of negotiations over the status of Panama, as the UN diplomats were held hostage. A battalion of US soldiers were sent into the city to rescue them, but were pinned down and forced into a guerrilla war. The violence escalated, until three months later when the US managed to drive the Usogumbians out of the city. By this point the diplomats had been killed.
It wasn’t over yet. Over the next several years, the Usogumbian military attacked and attempted to invade nearly a dozen countries, and they continued to expand over South America. They invaded Brisbane, Havana, Windhoek, Acapulco, Miami, Kingston, Luanda, Port Moresby, Tokyo, Singapore - basically any city within a radius of the Pacific Ocean. None of the attacks succeeded, but the civilian losses were enormous.
Finally, the Usogumbian military was so depleted they couldn’t use the “overpopulation” justification anymore, and signed a truce with the UN. They had failed to gain any territory, but in those few years, they had a devastating effect. Including on Commodore Fraser, it seems.
Since everyone knew this story from 9th grade history, no one was especially interested. But his second lecture was a lot more captivating. Fraser's story was a first-hand account of the Battle of San Francisco, December 27, 2502. Fraser was assigned to the TCSC Giza, in orbit over the Pacific. The ship's sensors detected a squadron of Usogumbian bombers on course for San Francisco Bay, and the Captain launched fighters to intercept. Lt J.G. Quentin Fraser was among them.
Fraser and his group managed to shoot down more than half of the bombers before they could reach their targets. The rest of them evidently chose to abort the raid and were chased back to the bay. Fraser's wing destroyed three more, and the remaining one went into a Kamikaze dive at the Golden Gate Bridge. Fraser and his wingman Lt. Michaelson folowed it, forcing it through the gap before opening fire. However, the top of Michaelson's fighter was broken off by the low flying under the arch, and the fighter had gone into the bay. Michaelson's body was recovered a day later.
As the group left, mesmerised by what they had heard, I stayed behind to ask Fraser if he knew when the simulators would be fixed. He answered that no one on campus was qualified to fix them, so he was going to call in an outside specialist. In the meantime, the other groups would take turns to have days off, so that we'd have access to simulators and keep from falling behind. I thanked him and turned to leave. He called after me that I should try and talk Cadet Porter into assisting on the repairs – he needs to make a better impression, and he's already supposed to be a computer genius. I told him I'd been thinking the same thing, and he smiled.
It was only later, as I was eating dinner, how much impact hearing the story had had on him. He had been breaking up emotionally the whole lecture, especially when he talked about Michaelson. I don't think the class noticed, they were probably read it as part of his powerful storytelling style. But if this is what it feels like, Commodore Fraser has to be relieved of his post.
September 8, 2528, 1800 hours.
OK, where to begin...
The fighter simulators are still crashed, thanks to Cadet Porter. OK, that's kind of unfair, but in spite of his computer talents, he hasn't been willing to step forward and help fix the program. I guess he's trying to avoid attention. The only people speaking to him are Cadets Warren and Cassidy. The hostility has mostly died down though, except from Cadet Della Bosca, for some reason.
Without access to the simulators, Commodore Fraser's been filling in classes with lectures about his war experiences. The first lecture was how the war started, but of course, we all know that one: how terrorist leader Fillipo Bolichet seized control of guerrilla cells in six countries, arranged six simultaneous coups and annexed half of South America in a matter of weeks, merging it into one country: “The People's Democratic Republic of Usogumbia.”
Actually, it was largely democratic, for the first couple of years, and the regime was nothing but beneficial for its citizens, which is why the UN never took action against them. Until, supposedly as a result of overpopulation, Bolichet made the decision to invade Panama and conquer it. An expansion that the UN considered unjustifiable.
Open war broke out after the failure of negotiations over the status of Panama, as the UN diplomats were held hostage. A battalion of US soldiers were sent into the city to rescue them, but were pinned down and forced into a guerrilla war. The violence escalated, until three months later when the US managed to drive the Usogumbians out of the city. By this point the diplomats had been killed.
It wasn’t over yet. Over the next several years, the Usogumbian military attacked and attempted to invade nearly a dozen countries, and they continued to expand over South America. They invaded Brisbane, Havana, Windhoek, Acapulco, Miami, Kingston, Luanda, Port Moresby, Tokyo, Singapore - basically any city within a radius of the Pacific Ocean. None of the attacks succeeded, but the civilian losses were enormous.
Finally, the Usogumbian military was so depleted they couldn’t use the “overpopulation” justification anymore, and signed a truce with the UN. They had failed to gain any territory, but in those few years, they had a devastating effect. Including on Commodore Fraser, it seems.
Since everyone knew this story from 9th grade history, no one was especially interested. But his second lecture was a lot more captivating. Fraser's story was a first-hand account of the Battle of San Francisco, December 27, 2502. Fraser was assigned to the TCSC Giza, in orbit over the Pacific. The ship's sensors detected a squadron of Usogumbian bombers on course for San Francisco Bay, and the Captain launched fighters to intercept. Lt J.G. Quentin Fraser was among them.
Fraser and his group managed to shoot down more than half of the bombers before they could reach their targets. The rest of them evidently chose to abort the raid and were chased back to the bay. Fraser's wing destroyed three more, and the remaining one went into a Kamikaze dive at the Golden Gate Bridge. Fraser and his wingman Lt. Michaelson folowed it, forcing it through the gap before opening fire. However, the top of Michaelson's fighter was broken off by the low flying under the arch, and the fighter had gone into the bay. Michaelson's body was recovered a day later.
As the group left, mesmerised by what they had heard, I stayed behind to ask Fraser if he knew when the simulators would be fixed. He answered that no one on campus was qualified to fix them, so he was going to call in an outside specialist. In the meantime, the other groups would take turns to have days off, so that we'd have access to simulators and keep from falling behind. I thanked him and turned to leave. He called after me that I should try and talk Cadet Porter into assisting on the repairs – he needs to make a better impression, and he's already supposed to be a computer genius. I told him I'd been thinking the same thing, and he smiled.
It was only later, as I was eating dinner, how much impact hearing the story had had on him. He had been breaking up emotionally the whole lecture, especially when he talked about Michaelson. I don't think the class noticed, they were probably read it as part of his powerful storytelling style. But if this is what it feels like, Commodore Fraser has to be relieved of his post.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Chapter 2
Training Log: First-Year Cadet Alexa A. Saunders
September 3 2528, 1900 Hours
We had our first training exercise this morning, not including yesterday’s get-to-know-each-other session, and it was ruined for everyone.
David and Fraser spent an hour with us yesterday going over the instruction manual for the flight simulator we’re using for the first few months. For these first few months the idea for each one just staying in the air and on course. The simulations are basic terrains – mountains, plains, tundras, deserts – but they’re incredibly convincing. Starting January, we’ll be learning combat, including simulations of the Battle of Britain, the Battle of Pearl Harbour, the Battle of Panama City, etc.
This morning, our first exercise was to take off, fly 10 kilometres without an odometer and touch down. The trick, of course, is to keep the speed as stable as possible and just keep track of the time. For example, fly at 240 kph for slightly less than 2.5 minutes, you reach the 10 km mark exactly. Everyone managed this fine, so Fraser raised the target: first 20 kilometres, then 100, then 500 kilometres without an odometer. The closest would get to lead the group when we practice flying in formation after lunch.
The winner, only missing the mark by about half a metre, was this Russian-American guy, Val Porter, who’s a video-game geek straight out of high school. A few of us stayed behind during lunch to help David and Fraser link the simulators together and choose the landscape. When Val got back, Fraser gave him the lead position. Unfortunately, the only instruction he was given was to take off, direct us into a V-shape and hold it for over 1000 kilometres, below the clouds and while accelerating gradually. Other than turbulence, the only real obstacle was some strong simulated wind, which would throw us off course and out of formation if we couldn't adapt to it.
Everything was fine to begin with. The simulation was the Mojave Desert, Southern California, in broad daylight. We took off, and Val managed to get us into a V-shape within about a minute. He put us on course, then directed us to accelerate, in synch, to 500 KPH. If all had gone well, it would have taken half an hour. But Val missed the increasing wind speed and he didn't direct us to counteract it. About 10 minutes in, he was hit by a gust of wind from port side, which caused him to slam into his closest wingman on the right, which was Holly. Then, I'm guessing, he pulled left to counteract the wind, but went too far, and slammed into me. Holly slammed into Isla, I collided with Jason. This started a chain-reaction on both sides, and within about 15 seconds we'd all exploded in mid-air. The simultaneous crash somehow managed to corrupt the program in every single simulator, knocking them all out of commission until Fraser can get someone to repair them.
Judging by the atmosphere in the restaurant, everyone, myself included, is extremely pissed of at Val, not just for failing the exercise but ruining it for the rest of us. But Jack's reaction is kind of worrying. I had dinner with him and Chloe tonight, and he was practically seething, he couldn’t talk about anything else. If Val had had the guts to eat in the same corner of the restaurant as the rest of the class, we’d have had to hold Jack back to stop him from punching his lights out.
The thing is, I don’t think Jack’s solely angry at Val. Ever since he failed his final exam last semester and was told that he’d have to repeat the course, something’s changed. He’s been reckless, short-fused, emotionally withdrawn, and just when I thought being back on campus had brought him back to normal, he’s threatening to take his anger out on an inept trainee on his second day. I just don’t see how this Val situation is supposed to have escalated things. Unless...
Shit, I’m gonna need to talk to Chloe.
September 3 2528, 1900 Hours
We had our first training exercise this morning, not including yesterday’s get-to-know-each-other session, and it was ruined for everyone.
David and Fraser spent an hour with us yesterday going over the instruction manual for the flight simulator we’re using for the first few months. For these first few months the idea for each one just staying in the air and on course. The simulations are basic terrains – mountains, plains, tundras, deserts – but they’re incredibly convincing. Starting January, we’ll be learning combat, including simulations of the Battle of Britain, the Battle of Pearl Harbour, the Battle of Panama City, etc.
This morning, our first exercise was to take off, fly 10 kilometres without an odometer and touch down. The trick, of course, is to keep the speed as stable as possible and just keep track of the time. For example, fly at 240 kph for slightly less than 2.5 minutes, you reach the 10 km mark exactly. Everyone managed this fine, so Fraser raised the target: first 20 kilometres, then 100, then 500 kilometres without an odometer. The closest would get to lead the group when we practice flying in formation after lunch.
The winner, only missing the mark by about half a metre, was this Russian-American guy, Val Porter, who’s a video-game geek straight out of high school. A few of us stayed behind during lunch to help David and Fraser link the simulators together and choose the landscape. When Val got back, Fraser gave him the lead position. Unfortunately, the only instruction he was given was to take off, direct us into a V-shape and hold it for over 1000 kilometres, below the clouds and while accelerating gradually. Other than turbulence, the only real obstacle was some strong simulated wind, which would throw us off course and out of formation if we couldn't adapt to it.
Everything was fine to begin with. The simulation was the Mojave Desert, Southern California, in broad daylight. We took off, and Val managed to get us into a V-shape within about a minute. He put us on course, then directed us to accelerate, in synch, to 500 KPH. If all had gone well, it would have taken half an hour. But Val missed the increasing wind speed and he didn't direct us to counteract it. About 10 minutes in, he was hit by a gust of wind from port side, which caused him to slam into his closest wingman on the right, which was Holly. Then, I'm guessing, he pulled left to counteract the wind, but went too far, and slammed into me. Holly slammed into Isla, I collided with Jason. This started a chain-reaction on both sides, and within about 15 seconds we'd all exploded in mid-air. The simultaneous crash somehow managed to corrupt the program in every single simulator, knocking them all out of commission until Fraser can get someone to repair them.
Judging by the atmosphere in the restaurant, everyone, myself included, is extremely pissed of at Val, not just for failing the exercise but ruining it for the rest of us. But Jack's reaction is kind of worrying. I had dinner with him and Chloe tonight, and he was practically seething, he couldn’t talk about anything else. If Val had had the guts to eat in the same corner of the restaurant as the rest of the class, we’d have had to hold Jack back to stop him from punching his lights out.
The thing is, I don’t think Jack’s solely angry at Val. Ever since he failed his final exam last semester and was told that he’d have to repeat the course, something’s changed. He’s been reckless, short-fused, emotionally withdrawn, and just when I thought being back on campus had brought him back to normal, he’s threatening to take his anger out on an inept trainee on his second day. I just don’t see how this Val situation is supposed to have escalated things. Unless...
Shit, I’m gonna need to talk to Chloe.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Chapter 1
This is the first chapter of the book I'm writing for "Writing for Young Adults."
TCF Flight School: Class of 2530
Volume #1: September, 2528
By Toby Clark.
Training Log: First-Year Cadet Valentin D. Porter
September 2, 2528, 1830 Hours
I'm writing this from my room in the halls of residence at the Terran and Colonial Fleet Flight School: San Francisco Campus, my home for the next two years. Or more realistically, my home for the next three months.
OK, I don't want to get too pessimistic too quickly. Just getting past the entrance exam was an achievement.
The campus is located on the outskirts of San Francisco, and it consists of a four-storey U-shaped building on three sides of a runway. Running north-to south is the Hall of Residence. Running east from the south end is the flight school, and running east from the north end are lecture halls and theory rooms for whatever elective we choose in the second year.
I arrived at 8:30 by bus, and took half an hour to find my room. The Hall is split by gender, floor, year, room size, etc therefore dividing the map into a ridiculous number of zones. It's even worse in the second-year zones upstairs, where they're also split by their electives. The first floor isn't too bad, most of it is taken up by the campus restaurant and a shopping complex, with just a couple of rows of first-year singles. But male first-year doubles are in the middle of the second-floor, which is virtually a labyrinth. Seriously, Maxwell Smart would take at least ten days to get out of here. I'd stick a map here for you, but it would break your brain.
I finally found my room and met my roommate, Matt Warren. My first impression is what I originally expected from a roommate on the first day – keen to keep his privacy, but not actively trying to drive me out. I guess I made the right decision signing up for a double. (Hardly a decision though, the singles cost 50% extra. Interstingly, the second-years don't have that option: all the rooms are doubles, because they have to share with a study partner in the same elective).
After moving my stuff in, I went to explore the flight school, which thankfully was not a labyrinth. It's one long corridor with rooms on one side and a large glass window overlooking the runway on the other. The ground floor is mostly administration and student services, the lecture halls and simulator rooms are upstairs. Basically the same arrangement on the other side of the school, according to the map.
At 11, the Class of 2530 (roughly 500 of us) began to gather in one of the lecture halls, where we watched an orientation video designed to kick off the year. It would have been helpful if it wasn't all there in the guidebook, which I've been memorising for the last two months. Then we got a standard motivational lecture by the school commandant, Vice-Admiral Morgan Christiansen, before being dismissed.
We had an hour-long break before meeting with our training-groups, so I went to the restaurant to find Matt. He was eating with a couple of girls, Holly and Selina. Holly I recognised from high school, but she was a year or two above so she didn't remember me at first. Actually, she still hasn't, she's been focused on Matt all afternoon. Selina and I found more to talk about: she's a fellow Browncoat.
At about 1:00pm, group assignments were announced over the PA. The four of us were in Group J together. Seriously, what are the odds?
The first-year system works like this: ten first-years, with two instructors – one member of the faculty, usually a Captain or higher, and one second-year cadet in a mentoring position, to compensate for the fact that most of the faculty haven't been in a star-fighter cockpit at least ten years. Our group is no exception: Commodore Quentin Fraser has been teaching for five years and he commanded the TCSC Liberator in the South American War, which means he hasn't flown a fighter himself in about 25 years. Our mentor is David Harrison, who's okay, but he's at least 10 years older than most of the group, or even his own year. In my group there's age variation, but not that much. I wonder what career he left to come here. Law enforcement or private investigation, probably, considering his security elective.
OK, time I explained that. According to the guide book, the second year is only 50% flight practice, so that you can study an extra course of your choice that determines your assignment after graduation. Basically it gives you an extra job besides fighter pilot on the ship you get assigned to, because every carrier needs paramedics, security officers, mechanics, etc, and this reduces the number of crew necessary to run the ship between battles. It also gives you something to fall back on if you get injured in the line of duty: i.e., take a n course in investigation and it opens the door to Military Police. There's about a dozen disciplines available, but I'm aiming for a Starfighter Carrier, so my options are:
* Security (both in the form of combat training and investigation.).
* Mechanics
* Medical (only to the level of a paramedic, but that's fine), and
* Strategy and tactics – basically just more advanced flight training, which opens up a lot of opportunities on its own. Among other things, it includes leadership training, which is an obvious asset if you want to move up in a squadron.
Don't know what I'm going to choose – other than flight simulators, I've never had experience with the others. But I've still got six months to make a decision.
In our first group meeting, we went around a circle and told everyone our names and what disciplines we were interested in. At least half of us had already chosen – Matt's decided on mechanics, Selina on security (with emphasis on investigation), Holly on chemistry (which rules out her serving on a carrier). It kind of bothered me that I'm one of the few without a direction, but David said that eight of his group had changed their minds by the time they were ready to sign up, which was kind of reassuring.
After that, we shared a bit about our backgrounds. I basically limited mine to, “Born in Seattle, half-Ukrainian on my mother’s side, want to be a pilot so that my hours spent on Deimos Rising 3D won't be wasted.” That got maybe one chuckle and seven or eight blank stares. (What can I say? I'm a master at obscure references that no one born in the last two centuries will get, and I can't seem to switch it off. Shame there's no elective for it).
After four hours, I haven't put names to faces for most of the group, except for those of us I knew before we started. Matt's from LA, Selina from San Francisco, and of course Holly's from Seattle as well. Of the rest of the group, two are from Las Vegas, one from Anchorage, one from Honolulu and two from Portland.
When the session was over, we had dinner in the restaurant, same group as at lunch. So this is my clique. I can live with that.
Well, that's about all for now. I'll write more tomorrow, by which point I'll either have landed my first simulated plane or crashed it.
TCF Flight School: Class of 2530
Volume #1: September, 2528
By Toby Clark.
Training Log: First-Year Cadet Valentin D. Porter
September 2, 2528, 1830 Hours
I'm writing this from my room in the halls of residence at the Terran and Colonial Fleet Flight School: San Francisco Campus, my home for the next two years. Or more realistically, my home for the next three months.
OK, I don't want to get too pessimistic too quickly. Just getting past the entrance exam was an achievement.
The campus is located on the outskirts of San Francisco, and it consists of a four-storey U-shaped building on three sides of a runway. Running north-to south is the Hall of Residence. Running east from the south end is the flight school, and running east from the north end are lecture halls and theory rooms for whatever elective we choose in the second year.
I arrived at 8:30 by bus, and took half an hour to find my room. The Hall is split by gender, floor, year, room size, etc therefore dividing the map into a ridiculous number of zones. It's even worse in the second-year zones upstairs, where they're also split by their electives. The first floor isn't too bad, most of it is taken up by the campus restaurant and a shopping complex, with just a couple of rows of first-year singles. But male first-year doubles are in the middle of the second-floor, which is virtually a labyrinth. Seriously, Maxwell Smart would take at least ten days to get out of here. I'd stick a map here for you, but it would break your brain.
I finally found my room and met my roommate, Matt Warren. My first impression is what I originally expected from a roommate on the first day – keen to keep his privacy, but not actively trying to drive me out. I guess I made the right decision signing up for a double. (Hardly a decision though, the singles cost 50% extra. Interstingly, the second-years don't have that option: all the rooms are doubles, because they have to share with a study partner in the same elective).
After moving my stuff in, I went to explore the flight school, which thankfully was not a labyrinth. It's one long corridor with rooms on one side and a large glass window overlooking the runway on the other. The ground floor is mostly administration and student services, the lecture halls and simulator rooms are upstairs. Basically the same arrangement on the other side of the school, according to the map.
At 11, the Class of 2530 (roughly 500 of us) began to gather in one of the lecture halls, where we watched an orientation video designed to kick off the year. It would have been helpful if it wasn't all there in the guidebook, which I've been memorising for the last two months. Then we got a standard motivational lecture by the school commandant, Vice-Admiral Morgan Christiansen, before being dismissed.
We had an hour-long break before meeting with our training-groups, so I went to the restaurant to find Matt. He was eating with a couple of girls, Holly and Selina. Holly I recognised from high school, but she was a year or two above so she didn't remember me at first. Actually, she still hasn't, she's been focused on Matt all afternoon. Selina and I found more to talk about: she's a fellow Browncoat.
At about 1:00pm, group assignments were announced over the PA. The four of us were in Group J together. Seriously, what are the odds?
The first-year system works like this: ten first-years, with two instructors – one member of the faculty, usually a Captain or higher, and one second-year cadet in a mentoring position, to compensate for the fact that most of the faculty haven't been in a star-fighter cockpit at least ten years. Our group is no exception: Commodore Quentin Fraser has been teaching for five years and he commanded the TCSC Liberator in the South American War, which means he hasn't flown a fighter himself in about 25 years. Our mentor is David Harrison, who's okay, but he's at least 10 years older than most of the group, or even his own year. In my group there's age variation, but not that much. I wonder what career he left to come here. Law enforcement or private investigation, probably, considering his security elective.
OK, time I explained that. According to the guide book, the second year is only 50% flight practice, so that you can study an extra course of your choice that determines your assignment after graduation. Basically it gives you an extra job besides fighter pilot on the ship you get assigned to, because every carrier needs paramedics, security officers, mechanics, etc, and this reduces the number of crew necessary to run the ship between battles. It also gives you something to fall back on if you get injured in the line of duty: i.e., take a n course in investigation and it opens the door to Military Police. There's about a dozen disciplines available, but I'm aiming for a Starfighter Carrier, so my options are:
* Security (both in the form of combat training and investigation.).
* Mechanics
* Medical (only to the level of a paramedic, but that's fine), and
* Strategy and tactics – basically just more advanced flight training, which opens up a lot of opportunities on its own. Among other things, it includes leadership training, which is an obvious asset if you want to move up in a squadron.
Don't know what I'm going to choose – other than flight simulators, I've never had experience with the others. But I've still got six months to make a decision.
In our first group meeting, we went around a circle and told everyone our names and what disciplines we were interested in. At least half of us had already chosen – Matt's decided on mechanics, Selina on security (with emphasis on investigation), Holly on chemistry (which rules out her serving on a carrier). It kind of bothered me that I'm one of the few without a direction, but David said that eight of his group had changed their minds by the time they were ready to sign up, which was kind of reassuring.
After that, we shared a bit about our backgrounds. I basically limited mine to, “Born in Seattle, half-Ukrainian on my mother’s side, want to be a pilot so that my hours spent on Deimos Rising 3D won't be wasted.” That got maybe one chuckle and seven or eight blank stares. (What can I say? I'm a master at obscure references that no one born in the last two centuries will get, and I can't seem to switch it off. Shame there's no elective for it).
After four hours, I haven't put names to faces for most of the group, except for those of us I knew before we started. Matt's from LA, Selina from San Francisco, and of course Holly's from Seattle as well. Of the rest of the group, two are from Las Vegas, one from Anchorage, one from Honolulu and two from Portland.
When the session was over, we had dinner in the restaurant, same group as at lunch. So this is my clique. I can live with that.
Well, that's about all for now. I'll write more tomorrow, by which point I'll either have landed my first simulated plane or crashed it.
Thursday, May 14, 2009
My Resume
Curriculum Vitae:
Name: Tobias Richard (Toby) Clark
Date of birth: 17-08-1989
Address: 45 Carmichael Street, Hamilton, Victoria, 3300
Ph: (03) 5571 9048 Mobile: 0400 107920
Email: tobyrclark@yahoo.com.au
Skills: Organization, typing, mathematics, good memory, attention to detail, knowledge of TV and film history.
Employment history:
June 20-24, 2005: Work Experience at the Diamond Valley Library, Melbourne
January 2006 - June 2008: Video Ezy, Hamilton, Sales assistant
Education:
Majura Primary School, ACT: Grade Prep – 1 (1995-1996)
Hamilton Gray St. Primary School: Grade 2 – 6 (1997-2001)
Baimbridge College Hamilton: Year 7 – 12 (2002-2007)
University of Ballarat: Bachelor of Arts/Professional Writing and Editing, (July 2008-present)
Achievements:
Male Dux of Hamilton Gray Street Primary School, 2001
Member of Junior Dramus (2001-2004) and Senior Dramus (2006)
Endeavour Award Baimbridge College Hamilton 2002, 2003, 2005 and 2006
Achievement Award Baimbridge College 2004
Participant of the “In the Bin” Film Festival, 2005
Participant in the Warrnambool Drama Festival, 2005
Year 12 English Achievement Award Baimbridge College, 2007
Year 12 Media Studies Endeavour Award, Baimbridge College, 2007
Member of 10MMM Action Group, 2005-2008
Columnist for Purple Couch Magazine, 2004-2008
Referees:
Mr Tony Speed
Assistant Principal
Baimbridge College Hamilton
Ph (03) 55722788
Mr Steve Liebelt
Video Ezy
Cnr Brown/French Street
Hamilton
Ph (03) 55725983
Name: Tobias Richard (Toby) Clark
Date of birth: 17-08-1989
Address: 45 Carmichael Street, Hamilton, Victoria, 3300
Ph: (03) 5571 9048 Mobile: 0400 107920
Email: tobyrclark@yahoo.com.au
Skills: Organization, typing, mathematics, good memory, attention to detail, knowledge of TV and film history.
Employment history:
June 20-24, 2005: Work Experience at the Diamond Valley Library, Melbourne
January 2006 - June 2008: Video Ezy, Hamilton, Sales assistant
Education:
Majura Primary School, ACT: Grade Prep – 1 (1995-1996)
Hamilton Gray St. Primary School: Grade 2 – 6 (1997-2001)
Baimbridge College Hamilton: Year 7 – 12 (2002-2007)
University of Ballarat: Bachelor of Arts/Professional Writing and Editing, (July 2008-present)
Achievements:
Male Dux of Hamilton Gray Street Primary School, 2001
Member of Junior Dramus (2001-2004) and Senior Dramus (2006)
Endeavour Award Baimbridge College Hamilton 2002, 2003, 2005 and 2006
Achievement Award Baimbridge College 2004
Participant of the “In the Bin” Film Festival, 2005
Participant in the Warrnambool Drama Festival, 2005
Year 12 English Achievement Award Baimbridge College, 2007
Year 12 Media Studies Endeavour Award, Baimbridge College, 2007
Member of 10MMM Action Group, 2005-2008
Columnist for Purple Couch Magazine, 2004-2008
Referees:
Mr Tony Speed
Assistant Principal
Baimbridge College Hamilton
Ph (03) 55722788
Mr Steve Liebelt
Video Ezy
Cnr Brown/French Street
Hamilton
Ph (03) 55725983
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Introduction
Name: Tobias Richard "Toby" Clark
Age: 19
D.O.B.: 17/08/1989
Hometown: Hamilton, Victoria
Relationship Status: Single
Political Views: Australian Labor Party
Religious Views: Pastafarian
Hobbies and Interests: Reading, writing, watching TV, browsing the net, science-fiction, soap opera, role-playing games, First Person Shooters
Music: Neil Finn, Brendan Benson, Shannon Noll Westlife, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Kelly Clarkson, Pink, Christina Aguilera
TV: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Lost, The Simpsons, Futurama, Doctor Who, Battlestar Galactica
Films: Star Trek: First Contact, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, The Terminator Trilogy, Die Hard, Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Galaxy Quest, Magnolia, A Few Good Men
Books: 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, Casino Royale, Harry Potter series, Animorphs Series, Letters From the Inside, So Much to Tell You, Take My Word For It
Quotations:
"The Angels Have the Phone Box" - The Doctor (David Tennant) Doctor Who
"You can't handle the truth! Son we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want that truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use them as the backbone of a life trying to defend something. You use them as a punchline! I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand at post. Either way, I don't give a damn, what you think you're entitled to!" - Colonel Nathan Jessup (Jack Nicholson), A Few Good Men
"Definition: 'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope." - HK47 Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
Age: 19
D.O.B.: 17/08/1989
Hometown: Hamilton, Victoria
Relationship Status: Single
Political Views: Australian Labor Party
Religious Views: Pastafarian
Hobbies and Interests: Reading, writing, watching TV, browsing the net, science-fiction, soap opera, role-playing games, First Person Shooters
Music: Neil Finn, Brendan Benson, Shannon Noll Westlife, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Kelly Clarkson, Pink, Christina Aguilera
TV: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, Lost, The Simpsons, Futurama, Doctor Who, Battlestar Galactica
Films: Star Trek: First Contact, Star Trek VI: The Undiscovered Country, The Terminator Trilogy, Die Hard, Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl, Galaxy Quest, Magnolia, A Few Good Men
Books: 1001 Movies You Must See Before You Die, Casino Royale, Harry Potter series, Animorphs Series, Letters From the Inside, So Much to Tell You, Take My Word For It
Quotations:
"The Angels Have the Phone Box" - The Doctor (David Tennant) Doctor Who
"You can't handle the truth! Son we live in a world that has walls. And those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Who's gonna do it? You? You Lt. Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the marines. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know. That Santiago's death, while tragic, probably saved lives. And that my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives. You don't want that truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use them as the backbone of a life trying to defend something. You use them as a punchline! I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I'd prefer you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand at post. Either way, I don't give a damn, what you think you're entitled to!" - Colonel Nathan Jessup (Jack Nicholson), A Few Good Men
"Definition: 'Love' is making a shot to the knees of a target 120 kilometers away using an Aratech sniper rifle with a tri-light scope." - HK47 Knights of the Old Republic II: The Sith Lords
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