But... Just then. "[i][b]Suichiro! Mayumi! Get away from there, NOW![/b][/i]" The usually calm and business-like Commander yelled at them in a slightly odd mixture of panic and concern. Her sudden outburst was not out of worry for their safety alongside the Spirit, but rather the swiftly approaching squadron of AST operatives who were quite frankly mere moments away from the site. With the Spirit having her weapon out it would be safe to assume that the AST were going to open fire upon their target as soon as she came within visual range - and while this would likely not do much to harm the Spirit, bullets had a nasty habit of being detrimental to regular human beings' longevity. Or, in other words, Mayumi and Suichiro were currently at risk of turning into swiss cheese with how they were in such close proximity to the would-soon-be-target of gunfire. "[i]We'll be transporting you on board our ship, so hurry up and get away from there![/i]" Kasumi repeated her order. While it was true that Ratatoskr's ideal and main purpose was to try and interact peacefully with Spirits, Kasumi valued the safety and well-being of her operatives above this objective. Neither Suichiro or Mayumi had any kind of protective gear, nor combat-training or other skills that would aid them in surviving a fire-fight and thus their best chance of sstaying alive was to simply vacate the area and go somewhere safe. There would be more opportunities to engage this Spirit, especially now that they knew what she looked like, but this right now was not a situation in which they should push for that. Especially since if the AST did catch sight of the pair, they'd probably be apprehended and brought in for interrogation and questioning. ----- [center]AST Barracks[/center] The captain of the group looked at Chou, and then at the late arrival. She furrowed her brow. The Captain, affectiionately caalled "Scowling oneesan" by her subordinates (not to her knowledge, of course) had her usual scowl and serious expression on. "We're moving out. It should only take us a minute or so to get to the locaiton of the Spirit. HQ already dispatched and emergency strike-team that should be engaging the enemy as we speak, keeping it busy 'til we arrive. Hop to it, ladies!" The blast doors to the barracks rose with a mechanical noise and the outside air rushed in. With a practiced and routine step, the Captain took off, followed closely - one by one - by her subordinate soldiers. Apparently, she was not keen on waiting for any late arrivals to suit up before going, and expected them to join in and come to the field once they were ready. Truth be told though, with an unstable Spirit who kept the Spacequake-alarms going on and off, and also being desginated as Reaper, wasn't really something she could leave alone for long. Hopefully the Strike-team led by a sergeant named Muramasa, would be able to get the jump on the Spirit and keep her pinned down, allowing her own unit to come in and catch the damned thing in a pincer-attack. Then again, the pre-emptive team only had a handful of girls and they wouldn't be able to easily herd or dictate the movements of the fight. Still, they just needed to keep that damned wanna-be-grim-reaper busy for a little bit... Just a little bit, and it would be enough. "Everyone!" The Captain called out over their communication's system. "When we arrive, quickly identify the target and open fire. We want to catch this thing by surprise if at all possible! Keep your distance though, our opponent is Reaper, a close-combat focused Spirit!" ----- [center][b]At the shelter[/b][/center] The scene was typical at the shelter. It was kinda cramped, quite noisy and very, very boring. Not to mention the repeated on-and-off sounding of the Spacequake alarm had everyone on edge and nervous. Some few security personnel were patrolling the hallways, checking on people - mostly the elderly and young children - to see if they were okay, but in general nothing really exciting or worthwhile was going on here. A baby was crying in ithe arms of its mother, a pair of senior citizens were sighing and complaining how this wasn't good for their knees, a somewhat familiar-looking punk was shivering and shaking like a leaf in the wind over by the coner... Just your typical, shelter-like going-ons. The most noteable thing here was the blonde, young man with glasses - wearing a wholly white suit - sitting on a bench alone. He had a large leather suitcase next to him and he just looked so well-dressed and out-of-place compared to all the other people. Perhaps he was a lawyer or something? Maybe a high-ranking CEO who had been at a lunch-meeting and been forced to run away when the larms went oiff? A few people gossiped and gave him passing glances, but largely even he went unnoticed. And why not? All he was doing was sitting there, alone, reading a newspaper and looking quite unperturbed by the whole ordeal - as if he was used to it.