"Faceless Pilot 10001, awaken."

Easier said than done., Charles Seves thought to himself, though all one could hear was a loud groan as the young man attempted to move. In response, a sharp pain ripped through him, like each and everyone of his nerves were being pinched. At the same time, however, he felt his initial drowsiness being replaced with a feeling not unlike a rush of adrenaline. Knowing how the MOD treated Faceless, he wouldn't be surprised if it was in fact adrenaline being pumped into him to awaken him from what must have been a long rest. Eventually, he opened his eyes, only to be blinded by the artificial lighting of the room he was held in. With his vision slowly returning to relative clarity, he noticed there was no natural lighting to speak of and, save for the uniformed man standing over his bed, not a single natural thing in the room. He looked at the man and coughed, spewing up a bit of nutrient supplement. The man stepped aside and, wiping a bit of the spittle off of his uniform with a handkerchief, shook his head.

"I expected more respect out of you, Faceless. You are speaking to a Duke of the Principality of Remoni, after all." His tone was quite sarcastic, but Seves understood right away what kind of man he was facing. This duke was the sort of man who never saw Faceless as people. Often, that was the case and the warmest reception a pilot could ever get would come from civilians unknowing of just who they were talking to.

"I'd bow, but you know-" Seves did his best to smirk, but was cut off by the duke.

"You've been under for half a year now. You missed your birthday, not that I could care any less. As much as it pains me to say it, we need you, 10001." Seves could just barely see him take some papers out of a binder, spend some time looking over them as the pilot observed the blurred humanoid in front of him in silence. Considering this duke had come to request the services of a deserter, he thought it wisest to keep quiet. "The Federation has been making... movements. Well, larger ones than usual, anyway. Diverting forces away from their overseas territories and, particularly, it looks like they plan to withdraw from the Joint Front. If they do that, the aliens will just steamroll our forces and move across the sea to do the same to our people."

"Then the Sateans would just roll in, take out the aliens, be called heroes by the civilians and next thing we know, they're now citizens of the Satean State of Remoni, is that it?" The Faceless pilot's ability to catch onto these sort of things had always been a strength of his. He hadn't been flying for six years for nothing, after all.

"I'm afraid so. Thus, command is willing to put aside your little excursion, in exchange for you to command a new squadron, to put it simply." A little excursion, sure. Seves thought to himself. An excursion that involved him and his expensive mech attempting to escape across the sea to neutral territory in Frusa, but ended with him bleeding from every hole he knew and didn't know he could bleed out of, his head feeling like it was going to pop and his heart making a fair imitation of a thirty-six millimeter assault cannon until he crashed into the sea. "Believe it or not, you were quite lucky, you got out of the crash without even a scratch. Most of the pain you feel right now is just to keep you from doing anything stupid."

"What will I need to do?"

"Shave, first of all. Faceless have more freedom in their hair as compared to typical soldiers, but I feel embarrassed to have you in our armed forces looking like a bum. After that, you'll be the commander of Faceless Squadron Seven. The Ministry of Defense believes your lack of qualms with dangerous and morally grey missions makes you suitable for the role. I have my own ideas, but orders are orders." Seves cleared his throat of the rest of the nutrient supplement to ask a question. "And before you ask, the only other choice you have is for you to fall asleep now and not wake up again. Either you wake up a new man in a month or you never wake up. The choice is yours."

"See you in a month then, Your Highness."

"Hope you're ready for war, Faceless."

---

It wasn't often Faceless Pilot 60606 -- also known as Maja Novak or by her callsign "Screwdriver -- ran not out of fuel, but out of cigarettes. Between the breaks she took in between smokes and the amount of smokes she had to begin with, she could often get through a day or two before requisitioning more. However, with nothing to do during this long transfer other than take in the scenery, smoke and occasionally refuel, she was without smokes for the past hour and she honestly didn't have the slightest clue how much time she had left until she would be landing at Courier Field Air Base near the southwestern border with the Federation. Aside from a few waypoints to fly through, she had no guidance and the young pilot honestly wondered why. It wasn't often that she was given a objective so shrouded in secrecy, especially when it was an especially simple objective of transferring to a particular location for further orders.

Not only that, but her rear and arms were getting very sore and she was incredibly hungry. Soon enough, she'd need to pee as well, inevitably. She probably stunk too, having not showered for over twenty-four hours since she was ordered to fly overseas from her former deployment in the Empire of Yuka and Wyd. Overall, she had long lost her patience with the trip, she had only gotten some shuteye during a portion of autopilot flight across the sea and had long tired of performing aerobatic maneuvers to kill time and practice. "The things we poor Faceless have to deal with..." she mumbled as she gazed at a relatively interesting set of hills. In the distance, she could just barely see the outline of gigantic radar equipment, serving as part of the Federation of Satea's early warning system. Were they aware of her presence as she flew alone through the noon sky in her "Diamond Axe", her gaudy paint scheme contrasting with the blue of the sky? Was there anyone watching her, or were they taking their lunch break in the summer heat? Maja almost wished it was the latter, not just for her sake.

Personally, she'd give anything to simply bask in the heat with a book, a cigarette and a cold drink, taking a break from the constant action that made up the life of a Faceless. Fittingly enough, this thought was suddenly interrupted, by the sound of her mech being hailed with wireless communications.

<< Friendly airborne mech pilot, this is Courier Field Air Base control. Please state your identity and mission. >>

"Hello, Mister Control. This is six o'six ooooooooh six, I'm a Faceless, transferring from the Empire of Yuka and Wyd. Requesting permission to land." A worryingly long pause came from the Control and Maja briefly wondered if she had broken something in the cockpit with her smoking again, until she heard a quiet voice complaining about the Faceless coming to the base. Don't worry, I'll only be there long enough to have a shower and requisition your supply of cigarettes..." Her first response was a long sigh.

<< You're early, Faceless. Land on runway B and move your airborne mech to hangar, you have a briefing in twenty minutes. >>

"Sorry for ruining this beautiful afterno-" Maja began before the connection was cut. She smugly grinned. Not fans of us kids, I take it, they didn't even afford me some jargon. It didn't actually mean that much to her, two years of being treated like some sort of inhuman war machine had made kind treatment more surprising. Carefully moving her legs and aiding her maneuvers with her arms, the M-13/09 approached the runway, slowing down as the throttle was dropped by Maja moving her feet, the digital speedometer and altimeter dropping digits until she was right above the tarmac. With a jolt of her legs, the flier core was shutdown and the mech switched control schemes as she settled down onto the strip, the cockpit shaking. Maja's rear hit the seat hard. Damn it, I was trying to hurt my ass a bit less with that landing, not more!. The mech landed without problems as its pilot groaned and began walking it over to the hangar, guided by a few technicians on the ground. She had no weapons to put away, so she went past the armory dispenser right onto a ramp and stood the machine straight before shutting it down with a voice command, "60606, shutting down airborne mech.".

The cockpit slid out and a rope was extended down to the ground, where a professional soldier was waiting for her. "Faceless Pilot 60606, Corporal Te-" Maja pushed past the young man and picked up a water bottle out of his hands and already making a beeline for the barracks as she unzipped the top of her flightsuit and reading the name on his own suit.

"Yeah, yeah, Corporal Terrence at my service, thanks for the water, where are the showers, I'm dying here." Maja peeled off the top of the flightsuit from her sticky skin and drenched tanktop, fanning herself with her hand as she made her away towards what she assumed were the barracks, based on architecture. The change of temperatures from her conditioned cockpit to the hot summer weather had her feeling like she was melting.

"F-faceless, you have a briefing in twenty minutes, I'd recommend you go there immediately!" The young man, a runty looking adult in an oversized uniform who was older than her in age alone barely kept up with 60606 while averting his eyes from the nearly transparent top she was wearing.

"Did I stutter? Show me the showers, I'm not going to the briefing smelling like a corpse. And believe me, I've smelled corpses." Pausing in her stride for a moment, she turned towards the corporal and fanned her odor towards him. "First lesson, my dear apprentice Corporal Terrence, corpses smell a lot like this. Just less sweaty and more gore-y and rot-y, but you get my point, bad smell." the young pilot explained as she began walking again, leaving behind the gagging man.

"Showers are... oh God... this way." He stumbled ahead and began to show her the way, eager to save himself and others of the stench.

"Your service to your comrades is admirable, Corporal. The Principality herself thanks you, as do I, the humble Maja Novak.". A wink was sent in the direction of the corporal, who weakly saluted as Maja marched into the women's showers. "Call me if I take too long, you little cinnamon roll. And bring me a change of clothes, I don't have all day."

Meanwhile, a short walk across the base, Charles Seves found himself in the briefing room, flanked by two armed men, waiting for the arrival of his new subordinates...

He had been waiting for this day. This was the day that would give meaning to his life. Finally, he'd meet his comrades, his commanding officer, and his campaign against the enemy would begin.

Gene flew his M-09 towards the Air Base within viewing distance, then stopped. He hadn't been cleared to land yet. It was important protocol was observed, so he established connection with the Air Base's Control and spoke.

"Courier Field Air Base Control, this is 20002 transferring from the United States of Norn. Requesting permission to land." Gene kept his response within protocol yet Kurt. Small talk with Control was inadvisable as most likely they would have to clear Gene's other comrades for landing as well. It would've been irresponsible to hold up workflow.

Efficiency in the military was key, and observing protocol taught soldiers much needed discipline. Gene waited patiently but anxiously for the response, knowing it would come in just a moment.

"Roger that 20002, you are cleared for landing." The response was equally Kurt. "Understood." Gene replied. Gene set down his M-09 and exited the mech. "Soldier, your briefing will begin soon, however entering early is not unadvised. The briefing room is that way." One of the base staff came to greet him. pointing out the way to the briefing room.

Gene saluted. "Understood. May I request for a drink of water? my throat is parched." Gene said, saluting. "Request granted, soldier." the staff member handed over a bottle of water. Gene took it, opened it, and took one long, controlled sip. Gene handed it back and the staff member saluted, and then left.

Gene immediately made his way towards the briefing room, opening the door and entering inside. He walked inside and spotted a single man with two soldiers by his side. Gene assumed this man was his commanding officer and he formed a salute. "Sir! ID number 20002, Callsign Wolf, real name Gene, reporting for duty!"

'Technically Calm Skies'

He felt numb mainly, the process of becoming a faceless pilot was not one of excitement, pride or even relief, it was simply a series of events that were preparing him for another series of events, which would all prove to serve the supposed greater good of the Remoni. None of this mattered to him though, he had no investment in anything that fell outside of his immediate actions...at least for now.
Flying was easy, he doesn't remember all of his training as most of it happened before his memory was taken from him, but his time with the faceless certainly did build upon his pre-existing muscle memory, flying was as normal as jogging to him. The screaming powerful engine began to come to a slightly quieter rumble as he approached Courier airspace. His on board computer alerted him to the various defense SAMS locking onto him as he approached the base, this was procedure of course.

<< Friendly aircraft pilot, this is Courier Field Air Base control. Please state your identity and mission. >>

I'm 50120, Marsters. Callsign Hot Plate. I'm here for briefing.

<<Permission granted Hot Plate, please follow the landing signals.>>

Marcel Marsters executed a perfect landing, despite the sheer speed of the Crow Musket, he was able to get it on the ground extremely smoothly. He climbed out of his cockpit and began his walk to the commander's office. He walked past many other soldiers and pilots, most of them younger than he was. Although Marcel didn't have much opinion on the function of the recruitment process, he acknowledged that seeing all these young children made him uncomfortable. He made no eye contact with anyone, he had no reason to, and wanted to keep it that way.

Upon entering the office he saluted right away, but came in just in time to hear another pilot introduce himself as gene, which confused Marcel, as pilots usually would state their last name when in a commanders office. Gene didn't sound like a last name, but Marcel didn't want to dwell too much on it before giving his own introduction.

50120, reporting for duty sir......are we early? There seems to only be two of us here.

Marcel scanned the room once over and paused slightly to look at Gene, he wondered what sort of pilot he was, and what sort of skills he possessed.

The transfer flight was comfortably, if tediously, routine. The majority of the route had been overwater, and the Ultrahornet cruised comfortably just below the mach limit at high altitude. The only break from routine monitoring of the flight controls for the pair of Faceless pilots aboard was a scheduled rendezvous with an in-flight refuelling tanker just before the big jet went feet-dry over the coast of Remoni. The big multi-engined tanker/transport had turned up on time, and Amita had guided the F-18U with a deft and steady hand into contact with the drogue trailing behind the tanker, breaking the long silence of the flight to communicate in clipped and firm tones with the crew.

Ajay, sat in the rear cockpit of the big jet, didn't speak up much if at all. Fidgety and bored as they both were after the hours spent in the confines of the jet, they were still Faceless, and thus still under the tight shroud of secrecy. As much as both he and his pilot yearned to exchange banter or even idle chit-chat with any other person at this point, they had to keep communication to the barest minimums regulations and safety demanded.
As the tanker broke away after transferring the poundage of fuel to keep their tanks topped up, the pair guided their aircraft over the coastline that spread out from horizon to horizon below them, a patchwork of colour as fields, hills, woodlands and urbanisation that spread out.
"Not too long now," Amita spoke up at last, as the HUD updated with waypoint and navigation information for their destination of Courier airbase, now onlt a handful of minutes cruising away. "I'm looking forward to seeing what it's like. The country looks so green compared to home. What do you think the people will be like?"
Ajay glanced out of his cockpit windows at the land smoothly moving past below them, growing in detail as Amita put them onto a finer approach to the airbase, the grey blotch of a runway now visible, along with toylike structures of radar warning antennae visible nearby, large even at this altitude and distance. He replied in his normal quiet-but-strong voice as he turned his attention back to his displays.
"I'm not sure; the other Faceless will be interesting, I've never met others before now. I'm curious to find out what their lives have been like compared to ours, how their training and backgrounds are different. And as for this country... I don't know. I'm eager to fly alongside others, and to get into action. But fighting against another nation, rather than the Royalists, that'll be a challenge. They're bound to be a lot better equipped and trained. I think we'll have a lot to learn from the other pilots and personnel".
"I'm sure we'll have something we can teach them too... or I hope so, anyway," Amita replied, before the ground control cut in over the radio and cleared them in for approach. The dark-skinned Faceless pilot aligned their aircraft with the runway, and with a smooth hum of hydraulics, the landing gear came down and locked into place, the added resistance and drag it provided sending a rumble through the otherwise sleek jets' frame. Nose high, she guided the F-18U into a steep, though smooth approach to the runway.
Hangars, blast-hardened aircraft revetments, barracks and all manner of other structures came out of the blur of distance and resolved into detail as the jet dropped toward the runway, the rush of airflow increasing around the aircraft as they dropped lower and their view closed in. Then the black-and-white 'piano keys' at the end of the runway filled the view and with the lightest of bumps, the mainwheels of the undercarriage kissed the ground. Brakes and flaps came down to brake their speed, and then Amita lowered the nose, bringing the plane into full contact and bringing the jet to a smooth stop in half the length of the runway. A 'FOLLOW ME' truck guided them along the taxiways and aprons of the airbase, and both pilots fell prey to curiosity, glancing up from short confirmations and commands as the jet was ushered into its' parking spot, adjacent to a hardened hangar. Within, technicians and support staff swarmed around a pair of mechs. Amita shut the engines down, and the crew ladders extended from below both opening canopies. The pair of Erustan pilots disconnected from their aircraft, unplugging life-support hoses and ejector seat straps before climbing down, their boots meeting the tarmac of the airbase the first time they'd touched ground in eight hours, from one side of the world to the other.
A uniformed member of the bases' complement of personnel met the pair, while around him ground crew began to move over to the Ultrahornet, securing it after the flight. He nodded to the pair and gave them a brisk, but polite welcome, before directing them to the flight operations room to divest themselves of their gear and freshen up, before reporting to the briefing room in time for twenty minutes later, where the more official orientation briefing and introduction would - the pair presumed - be taking place. The same man lead them as a guide in the right direction, showing them to the right personnel to check in and turn in their flight gear.

A short while later, the two were dressed in freshly-donned flight suits as unmarked as Faceless ones ever were. With help once more, the pair of Erustan pilots found themselves on the threshold of the briefing room, hot on the heels of what could, judging by their age and appearances, only be other Faceless personnel. With curious interest, the pair looked over their contemporaries as they spoke up and introduced themselves. Both were male, light-skinned (by comparison, at least), and were, at least apparently, similar in age to Amita and Ajay both. The pair listened attentively as they introduced themselves to catch their designations and call-signs, and were surprised when the first of the two used his name. It was a moment of brief confusion; was this customary among Remani forces, or for Gene's home country? Either way, their attention was diverted as the other young man introduced himself as 'Hot Plate'.
Both of their accents were different, as were their body language, but beyond that, there was little to gather from the brief moment. Smoothly stepping up, both Amita and Ajay saluted the man ahead of them; his rank insignia, position at the head of the room, and the presence of guards indicated he was of importance. And aside from that, the others had introduced themselves to him as well.
"Sir," Amita said firmly and in a clear voice that carried the slight sing-song lilt of her Erustan accent. "95097, Callsign Radiance reporting as ordered".
"And 95099, Callsign Umbra reporting as ordered, Sir!", Ajay continued, the pair standing at careful attention, eyes only briefly flicking to regard their new fellow pilots. Both were curious, but sure enough they'd find out more very soon.

--HRHS¹ Princess Katarina--

<<Electromagnetic Launch System, All Green. You have permission to take off, pilot.>>

The voice that came over the speakers of her headset, yanked Itsuko back to reality, after she had partially dozed off while listening to some music that, she used to concentrate during her usually long solo flights and landing/take off procedures.

"Understood, control. Tiger, taking off now." Today was different though, Itsuko, or 00017 as she was officially referred to on MOD paperwork would not be taking a normal mission, but transferring to an inland base for some purpose that she could only guess off. Considering that Courier Airfield was located near the border of Remoni and Satea, there were more than a few good bets.

Either way, Itsuko was cut off of that train of thought as well as the voice of none other than the Captain of the Katarina, Admiral Norris, a veteran seaman that was more than a father for everyone on his fleet, came over the radio. "Come back home in one piece, Tiger. I know I said that before, but a kid such as you should be playing, instead of fighting our wars."

"Sir, yessir! As I said before, I fight so that other children don't have to. Also, it's quite cool being a fighter pilot, y'know?" Itsuko, replied as she did one last flyby over the Principality's Northeastern Fleet flagship, before setting the autopilot to the coordinates she had been given, flying at low altitude and just a little bellow mach speed.

The last message she got from the Katarina, before radio silence settled in, was a rather unusual request from the Admiral, which Itsuko wasn't even sure how to reply, defaulting for a wordless grin. "00017, if you ever have enough free time while bound to that base, try to visit my family. I have a great granddaughter right about your age, I'm sure she would like to know you. My hometown isn't so far away from that base, after all." Itsuko could swear that she heard the Admiral sigh, muttering that he was getting too old for this, but she let it go. There was at least four hours of solo flight before her and the only thing Itsuko could do to pass the time was set her music back to maximum volume and try to take a nap while she could.

<<Attention friendly aircraft, this is Courier Airfield's flight control, slow down and identify yourself. Repeating. Attention friendly aircraft, this is Courier Airfield's flight control, slow down and identify yourself.>>

"Damn, I overslept." Itsuko muttered to herself before opening the radio channel to Courier Airfield and stating her ID and mission, shortly followed by being given permission to land by a very begrudgingly cooperative flight controller. The only time when Itsuko woke up from her nap during her flight, before reaching the airfield was whens she was flying over a small city and performed a few simple maneuvers for some children that had gathered on a battered, old soccer field when they saw a fighter jet flying over their homes. Itsuko even waved to them, though she was certain that no one saw it. Either way, when the landing procedures were finally done, Itsuko made a beeline to the nearest showers, requesting a fresh uniform and something to eat, from her appointed 'aide', before getting into the shower room.

Itsuko didn't expected to find someone else here, usually military personnel (mostly the men) think that proper hygiene can wait, even when there's no rush to do stuff, but Itsuko was too used to the life at the sea, to pass on a proper bath right after landing. Anyway, she found out that another girl was there, older and much more endowed than Itsuko, naturally. "I hope I'm not bothering you. I just transferred here from the Katarina and the flight plus this weather is making me feel like melting. I'm used to operating in the far north, after all. Oh, sorry for not introducing myself, I'm Faceless number 00017, callsign: Tiger, but you can call me Itsuko." The long-haired blonde tried to be friendly, offering a handshake instead of a salute, since... what good are norms when you are naked, after all? At least on the showers, everyone was equal, at least Itsuko though like that...

---

¹: His/Her Royal Highness Ship.

What are we sending these kids into...Charles Seves wondered to himself as she sat in a chair at the front of Courier Field Air Base's briefing room. On both sides of him were two brawny, large men, agents from the Ministry of Defense who were there less to defend him and more to watch what he said and make sure he didn't try anything. He didn't really have any intention of doing anything that might anger them, hell, at this very moment, he was debating with himself if waking up a month later rather than being painlessly executed was such a great idea after all. Throughout the night and this day, he had been looking over "Plan 2016", the operation he had been specifically chosen to command Faceless Squadron Seven in. It was chilling to read, he had been a Faceless for six years and never had he ever read anything like it.

Ever since he got the full details of his part of the operation, he'd have moments of pure stress, anxiety and cold sweat as he tried to imagine it all. For him, the missions of the Faceless had always been the kind of thing that bordered on fun and games, simple skirmishes keeping the status quo from tipping in the favor of their enemy, to a point where they would be able to take over. At least, that's what he'd always been told and he never fought it until six months ago. He stroked his goatee, torn between impatience and a reluctance to send out these new comrades on a mission. He wondered how the other "handlers" for Plan 2016 felt, the others who had to send teenage soldiers out to fight battles the like of which hadn't been seen since the last century.

Seves let out a sigh. He was starting to hear the sounds of jet engines and the hum of flier cores, then the thud of mecha feet landing on the ground. Prior to the preparation for this operation, Courier Field Air Base had been, aptly enough, mostly used for cargo aircraft. The base had more than enough space to hold quite a few fighters and mecha, due to its former uses, but for the last ten years, most visits here had been for shipments and to pick up the occasional unit of paratrooper trainees. However, whether it had been a front or its honest usage, now, due to its proximity to the border, it was one of the staging points for the Plan.

The former pilot took a sip of coffee, still feeling groggy from being taken off the drugs that had kept him imprisoned in sleep for six months following his attempt at desertion. It wasn't especially good coffee, just powdered stuff that he had salvaged from the mess hall, nearly emptied by recent arrivals to the base, but it did the job of waking him up slightly.

Lost in thought, he hardly noticed a uniformed teen, a green haired, sharp but cold looking kid, entering the room and saluting him, introducing himself quickly, efficiently and very soldierly in the process. "20002, huh. We have something in common, then. At ease, Gene, you don't need to salute me. I'm a Faceless just like you, after all, just with..."Charles trailed off for a moment as she glanced around at the two men at his sides. "...extra protection and extra history." 20002 wasn't the only Faceless to come in through the door, he was quickly followed by another male, this one slightly older than him, with an interesting set of eyes. Both had the look of fighter jet pilots about them, being a Faceless for so long had given him the ability to tell between airborne mech pilots and fighter jet pilots. He always joked that airborne mech pilots walked around like they had a stick up their ass following a flight. "You're early alright, or maybe the others just got lost on the way to this room. Got a name, 50120? I have your file, but I haven't looked over it much." The second arrival didn't salute him, which suited Seves just fine.

Two more came and saluted him after he spoke to 50120, getting a sigh out of Seves. "At ease, the both of you. While the rank insignia on my uniform says otherwise, I'm just another rankless Faceless. The rank is just to get some respect from professionals around here. Good to have you. I'm still waiting for a few others, then I'll start the briefing and formally introduce myself." He stood for a moment, waved his cup at the MOD guards to indicate he was refilling it, before doing so and returning to his seat, sitting down casually and stretching himself out. "You really don't know what you're all getting into... I can't tell anything about your mission, for reasons of national security, but if you have any questions while we wait, ask away."

Meanwhile...

Maja hadn't felt so pure in a while, as her sweat was washed away by the lukewarm water of the showers. She tried to take showers as often as possible, mostly because her former role in the military attaché required her to look and smell at least somewhat presentable at all times and partially because her usual smell of smoke turned quite a few people off. The mech pilot felt considerably less worried about the second, it was mostly the scoldings by her temporary superiors in the Empire that drove her constant shower habit into her. However, today, it seemed she wasn't alone, as she washed herself off with some neutral smelling soap from the wall, which reminded her on a separate note to invest in some personal toiletries. Blonde, slightly smaller than her in height and smaller than herself in other sizes as well, it didn't take much imagination to conclude that she was another Faceless, even before she spoke. The Katarina, huh. Haven't seen that one before., Maja pondered this minor detail for a moment before speaking up, taking the girl's hand and shaking it amicably, remarking how it was nice to find someone who wasn't saluting her, as she let go and brushed a long strand of wet hair out of her eye.

"I'm 60606, callsign Screwdriver, as in the cocktail, not the tool. You can call me Maja, though, in fact, I reeaaaaally prefer it while we're here on relatively solid ground. I mean, honestly speaking, we're constantly moving and all, but anyway, anyway, anyway, it's good to meet you!". Maja smiled and gave Itsuko a solid pat on her naked back, before stepping back under the nozzle of the shower to finish her washing up. "I know exactly what you mean about melting. I just got here from Yuka and, well, it's winter there. Literally, southern hemisphere and all. Plus, airborne mecha cockpits aren't exactly comfortable for long-distance flights so I ended up smelling so bad I almost killed Corporal Terrence, who you might've seen when you got here." Little did Maja know, Corporal Terrence was actually Corporal Therrien, but it would probably mean little to her anyway. "On that note, we should probably get to the briefing, mmm? We can chat on the way there."

"Darling," Doll Face said through her headset, "picking up something from Command," she played with her monitors a bit and wrote a message down on a pad of paper, "mandatory briefing for all Faceless Pilots. Location... Courier Field Air Base. Heading would be... uh... one second."

"Courier Field Air Base," Sweet Tooth replied, "that's east. Good hour from here. Let them know we are en-route."

Doll Face sighed to herself and opened a line for Command "War Hammer to Command," she said sternly and then waited for a go ahead before continuing to speak, "War Hammer is redirecting current heading from coordinates *static* to *static*..."

"Copy that War Hammer," Command replied back, "You're approach from the West is authorized. Update on last descent."

"Copy, Approach from the west is authorized. Update on last descent." She sat back in her seat as she felt War Hammer Level off. She monitored the radars watching specific reading. Satean planes had been on the radar for a good minute, heading south west. Who knew exactly what they were doing. Could have been on a scouting mission, recording the same things she was. She folded her arms as the Sateans disappeared off the radar. Sweet Tooth wasn't much of a talker when he was flying, so flying was usually quiet.

"Did they say what kind of briefing it was," Sweet Tooth asked breaking the silence, "I swear to god if they ask me what the extraterrestrials are doing one more god damned time, I'm gonna shoot someone. I don't know what the flying *static* they are doing. I also don't care. *static*" Sweet Tooth tapped his headset followed by more static, "What is that?"

"I'm on it. Looks like a wire back here is loose. Tapping against the side of it's case," Doll Face quickly said as she fixed it, "shouldn't be effecting it any*static. Mother *static*" Sweet Tooth took his headset off and Doll Face followed suit.

He looked over his shoulder,"So! Were they specific!?"

"Not really! I only picked up half the message!"

"Eh whatever! I don't want you getting shocked back there! If it's something internal don't worry about it! We'll fix it when we land."

"That's easier said than done! If we lose our comms again, landing might be another folder of paperwork. You know how much you hate paperwork."

Sweet Tooth growled to himself as he recalled the last forums he had to fill out. He couldn't help but try to figure out what the briefing was. He only just started the scouting mission, but then again, it's probably for the better. Not having communications is a huge punch in the face when a pilot can't land. Hasn't stopped him before.

"Command, this is War Hammer *static* Communi*static* are *static* *static*," Doll Face tried to transmit before losing all communications. "This is why I hate not working on this myself! Those gear heads don't know how to tie a knot without mommies help."

"So it's gone for good," Sweet Tooth asked flipping on of his lights on, "that's not good. I guess we get to see how well attuned the tower is when it comes to emergency landings."

War Hammer had seen conflict numerous times and yet the only thing still broken on it was its radio. The internal wiring was trash since there was a shortage of resources. Maybe the Courier Field Air Base would have more. After all, they recalled two faceless so they better have come equipped.

"We are ten minutes out," Sweet Tooth called back as he lowered his airspeed. The Courier Field Air Base came into view. 'Let's hope they watching.' He dipped his left wing and watched the tower. As he was just about to pass he saw what looked like a white light.

"Did you see that! Was that White?"

Doll Face had her face pressed against the armored glass that protected them, "It was white!" Sweet Tooth turned War Hammer back around as the white light flashed again. He lowered his airspeed again and watched as the light turned to a steady red light. He sighed as he saw it and started to circle around the airport. It was a good five minutes before the light from the tower turned green and stayed lit.

"Alright! We are cleared to land! You better have your seat belt on," he scorned her for past events.

"Oh I do! I won't be hitting my head this time," she chuckled as she double checked her seat belt. War Hammer lost altitude quickly and softly touched down. It wasn't the best airfield he'd landed on, but it wasn't as bad as his families farm. That was like taking a corvette and surfing with it.

It only took him a minute to find his designated taxiway and his space to park. The crewman on the ground rushed over and secured the aircraft. The cockpit popped open where Sweet Tooth stood up almost instantly. Doll Face unbuckled herself and also stood up.

"Woah there buddy," one of the crewman said noticing Doll Face, "since when did they make these things two person."

Sweet Tooth ignored the statement and helped Doll Face out. She took her helmet off and let her hair breathe as it blew into her face. Sweet Tooth on the other hand left his helmet on. He could still breathe with it on, even if it wasn't connected to the apparatus, and he grabbed Doll Face's hand as she stepped next to him.

"Don't mind him boys," Doll Face laughed, "he's not one for conversation!" She laughed as she walked with him. There was always a briefing room somewhere in the main building, and that's where Sweet Tooth was going. It took him a minute before he found it.

Before they actually made it into the briefing room, Doll Face found the first person outside the room and confronted him, "Why the hell are we here? I swear to god if it's another stupid briefing about Extraterrestrials, I'm gonna shoot someone."

"What," the soldier stammered as Doll Face was in his face, "I don't know anything. All I know is someone is in there and he's waiting for all faceless to show up."

"Oh," she said cheerfully as she turned to Sweet Tooth, "we might actually get to do something!" She opened the door and looked inside. The soldier was right, there was a man in there and it seemed like he was waiting for someone.

She cheerfully burst through the door and said, "Sorry sir! We were right in a routine scouting mission! No time to change! I am 51423 and this is 14325! Call signs Doll Face and Sweet Tooth. I'm his better half!" Sweet Tooth stopped in the center of the two soldiers, looked at the two of them, turned and proceeded on to his seat. He pulled out one chair first as Doll Face practically jumped into it. He pulled the second out for himself and sat down. Doll Face wasn't always so excited. It was probably due to the fact that an actual mission might have been what the briefing was about.

"Oh! You're a mech pilot? That's cool, I always thought how would be to handle one of them, but I chose to fly a Terminator because a person that's important to me flew one as well." Itsuko said as she smiled at Maja. It was rare of her to ever encounter a friendly reception when away from the Katarina, but least when it came to Maja, Itsuko could say that she was going to get along well. "Hey, wanna some?" Itsuko extended her hand forward to offer some of her melon scented shampoo to her fellow pilot, after all, Itsuko had to groom quite a complicated hair cut, so she invested on this kind of stuff and always had some tucked among the few things a Faceless was permitted to own.

Itsuko didn't remade her braid after she finished with her showering, letting the scorching heat of the Courier Airfield dry whatever water still clung to her long hair while Itsuko followed Maja to the briefing room. "Hmm... I would really appreciate if they did these things in different sizes. Some of us just don't have the body type of a standard issue soldier, after all." Itsuko complained as she dealt with a standard issue drab green flight suit that was a couple sizes too big for her. A quite humorous scene, to say the truth.

Itsuko said nothing after getting into the briefing room From her experience, merely performing a salute as usual before finding whatever seat had been assigned to her. On her experience, soldiers weren't expected to talk on these kinds of situations, unless requested to, thus she remained quiet, waiting for the briefing to begin.

@Shin

Gene went at ease when he heard it was acceptable to do so. Gene didn't really agree that Seves was *JUST* a pilot like himself. For one thing, the man had to be a few years older then Gene was, and so had far more combat experience then anyone here combined, but most important of all the man was still Gene's commanding officer. He kept that to himself though, figuring Charles had some issue Gene wouldn't understand anyway.

Gene watched his comrades one by one pour into the briefing room after a few moments. When prompted if they had any questions, Gene spoke up, thinking of something. "Sir, you've been serving for several years now. Could you give us some tactical advice?" Gene asked.

After asking the question about when pilots were going to arrive a wave of young people poured into the breifing room, all announcing themselves with varying degrees of enthusiasm. He made a mental note of some of the callsigns. Sweet Tooth & Doll Face, Screwdriver, Tiger, Umbra and Radiance. Of course there was the mysterious Mech pilot Gene, who still had Marcel's attention, until it was broke by the commander addressing him directly for his name.

50120, Marcel Vincent Marsters, I hailed from Gran Tannia before my enrollment into the faceless program. I'm Type A so I can't recall any more information to tell you, sir.

Marcel's voice was toneless and detached, everything about verbal interaction was routine, especially to an officer. His eyes flickered for a moment, when he turned back towards his fellow pilots, he noticed that Umbra and Radiance were of Erustan Ethnicity. This had his interest as although he counldnt recall anything about his time in Grand Tannia, he would study the history of the world extensively in his own time, and once read about Grand Tannia launching a failed invasion of Eurst roughly a decade ago. He wondered how they felt about their home countries, faceless or not.

He then turned back towards the C.O. wanting to stay focused on the mission and nothing else, he decided to inquire.

I assume this mission is going to bring us into some enemy conflict, what sort of enemy types should we expect to engage in this mission. Just so I can start preparing tactics now.

Marcel's face was cold, blank and serious.

Ajay was surprised by the commanding officers' informality. Back where and Amita hailed from, officers tended to be aloof, formal and very impersonal with their orders and manner; at least the ones that weren't enlisted, anyway. And he'd had very little experience with those, what with being a pilot and all. While it was vicious rumours and libellous to the highest order, much of the back-room gossip from the pilots and other personnel leaned toward the fact that most officers in commander positions in the armed forces had got their positions through connections, wealth, favours or blackmail, rather than deserved promotions.
Of course, it wasn't his place to think about such things.
Instead, he gave a brief glance over their commander-to-be instead. He seemed friendly, which was... surprising! Not unwelcome, but surprising. He glanced at Amita, who was looking around at the other pilots, trying to be discreet about it, but her interest and curiosty about their new comrades was hard to disguise, as was the interest on her face. For his part, the older pilot leant back in his chair a little, and tried to put his mind at ease; he was eager to hear more about what would come next.