[color=lightgreen]"Verdammt... Acknowledged coming back home."[/color], the lieutenant commander sent out over the comm in response to his recall order. He spun the sentry around and using the secondary thrusters gently pulsed his way back to the hanger. These small movements in the sentry's current state made it groan in protest as the reactor whined and the console continued to flash a series of warnings across the screen. Trapp pondered to himself why a mute button was never installed in these things as the alarms continued to ring in his ears.

[color=lightgreen]"Wizard, make sure the others get home in one piece."[/color] Trapp added in his comms as he directed the hulking piece of metal back in line MAS hanger. Landing procedures in a MAS were generally the first thing taught by the 101st and the last thing that most actually learned. You don't decelerate fast enough and your MAS just punched a hole through whatever hanger wall you happened to be in and decelerating too quickly threatened to blow your thrusters. Not that the German had to really worry about decelerating all that much as the Sentry almost lazy moved towards the hanger entrance. As he reached the hanger he gently landed the sentry and directed it slowly into its holding cell. Machines of all sorts whirred clamping it back into place so that nothing would slide out of position. 

Looking at the sentry from the outside give a testament to UEE engineering and fail safes that the thing still manged to stay aloft. The anti-ship missile had torn though the shield system and most of its armor in the process. Scorch marks dotted the entire front face of the sentry as it looked like it had just came right out of hell. A large hole permeated throughout the core section of the chassis, circuitry sputtered and sparked in open air and the soft glow of the idle reactor could be seen through the cracks. The walking coffin had pretty much splintered as a result and most of the on board hydraulics had been thrown into a hodgepodge of various conditions. The main line connecting the thrusters to the central reactor had blown resulting in the deactivation that Trapp had experienced. The beauty of it all was that unlike various heavily customized vehicles, repairs of this magnitude to fix the MAS would only take most of a day, rather than weeks. By mandate most Engineering crews had most Mass Produced parts on hand for quick and dirty replacements when needed. With most of the circuitry intact it would be a simple job of replacing the translucent metal alloy of the cockpit and the metal plating of the armor. Though no matter how easy Trapp knew the job was he knew that engineering would not wast any chance given to complain about all the extra work he had given them. The very thought of the whining crew chief made him smile.

The lieutenant commander let out a long held breath within his cockpit as he wrenched the helmet off of his head. He rotated the helmet easily in his hands, the cool metal giving him some sort of solace as he looked down at the bloodstained visor. First day back and he had already almost killed himself for some admiral that wouldn't even learn his name. The bureaucracy of it all sometimes made Trapp wonder if he had made the right career choice if what they were doing was the right thing. He knew why the Coalition solider's fought, they fought to stay free of a subjugating imperial rule that did nothing for them when they were one. Now why did the UEE fight? To reclaim their lost colonies? To unify the empire once more? Every Coalition pilot that he had fought seemed totally enthralled in their convictions, never backing down when the chance was given. And for every one of those pilots the UEE had ten Admiral Ardins. He shook his head clearing his seditious thoughts from his mind as he focused back on his squad comms still blaring into his cockpit. Everyone seemed to be okay though the Captain's withdrawal order made Trapp raise an eyebrow wondering who had made that executive decision. The Ulysses and the rest of the 5th fleet would not be able to hold the armada at bay and Cerol's orbital defensive could only do so much. Tactically it made sense to preserve the Lincoln but it just didn't sound like an order the Captain would make so easily.

He disengaged the blast shield over the cockpit once more his side screaming in protest as he raised his arm to pull the lever. The metal pulled back and Trapp watched as the rest of the deck crew ran about preparing for the immediate arrival of the rest of the seventh. Hydraulic clamps spraining to life and loaders shuddering as they moved about ready to catch and lock the arriving vehicles. Trapp ran his hand gently across the hole in his cockpit as he watched the preceding, his fingers tracing the outline of the jagged hole. The artificial light of the hanger glanced in and illuminated the blood streaked cockpit and the shard from before as it caste a dazzling array of light. He ignored the fire that the biogel was currently masking, he would not leave the MAS until his entire squad got into the hanger it was what they did.  You weren't out of the battle until everyone was home.

Soon afterwords Williams and her MAS came roaring into the hanger. Trapp nodded almost happily as he watched the Astelion be pulled back into position. The rookie had done well for herself in her first battle and at least one worry could have been cast from his mind. He was unsure when the Captain first told him that they were getting a greenhorn in but she hadn't died and that was all Trapp could really ask for. He didn't need or want some kid with their whole life ahead of them's death on his mind. Nobody wanted to write that letter home. He flipped his comms so that they would be directed to the Astelion. Trapp spoke in his standard amused tone and though his words did not sound it they were the closest the rookie was going to get in terms of a good job from her squad leader.[color=lightgreen]"Williams.... Your wingmen almost died, you showed near suicidal tendencies and almost allowed for your emotions to win over in battle. But you didn't fuck up... just keep it that way."[/color]

Soon afterwards the rest of the seventh came flying in. He listened over the comms making sure everything was going smoothly and soon afterwards he heard Maki's angry voice come over the communications. Trapp let out a sigh and shook his head as throwing threats and challenging a direct officer was generally not the smartest thing to do, especially when that superior officer was part of the imperial family. Now Trapp knew that he needed to act quickly to prevent any backlash coming back towards the Captain, himself or more importantly Maki in the form of a court-martialing or other actions. Trapp took a deep breath as he switched back to open comms before he spoke. When he did speak his voice was not in its normal smooth baritone but rather a loud harsh roar akin to some sort of primal beast. [color=lightgreen]"[b]Oberleutnant, you will shut your mouth and get into the Lincoln this goddamn instant! So help me God! Or I will get you relocated so quickly off of this god damn squad quicker than you can say insubordination! Jetzt bewegen!" [/b][/color]

Trapp shook his head as he realigned himself and let the order ring out for all to hear. He had hoped that Maki understood he had just put on that dog and pony show to please the Admiral and make sure that she didn't actually get disciplined. It was all a game of politics, a game that Trapp himself disliked immensely but he knew how to play it well enough. Worse came to worse he would patch it up with her later. 

[color=lightgreen]"That goes for everyone else as well! Double-Time it people!"[/color]