March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

The boss, Scott, seemed decent enough. It was hard to determine with so little information to go off but for the time being Fuka had him pegged as Adequate. Not some dickhead fresh out of training looking to earn a reputation but not the most experienced leader either. Thus far she felt neither good nor bad about putting her life in his hands and taking his in her own, which suited her well enough.

Some of her other comrades, well...

She raised an eyebrow at the mention of a "certain nation", the runt's dancing around the word almost amusing had his questions not literally been answered in the spiel.

"The man said 'particular origins unknown' and 'depart at 13:00'. Presumably, that means we don't know who's involved and that we're deploying to Malta...at 13:00."

Fuka let the faintest bit of sarcasm slip into her voice, taking another bite of her donut before chiming in.

"Are we going to be the only ones defending this place, or will we have friendlies?"

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo nodded to acknowledge Fuka's words but did not say anything more; his speculation was unnecessary and so it was best to know when to shut up - Wait, Boston just said there was an ACWS; that meant people to man it. Of course there'd be friendlies; heck, there were defenses that needed manning...

The prettyboy wryly smiled, hoping the older pilot would catch her mistake after a second's delay; best not to pick a fight with her that he could not afford to win. Instead, he'd let Boston remind her that he had already answered her question about friendlies as well in his upcoming response. Honestly, this PMC was a breath of fresh air; Circus was a class clown who was nevertheless competent, Boston and Jane were a no-nonsense couple whose ability to explain things plainly and simply was endearing, and Scott was the perfect commanding officer for his temperament. Fuka, meanwhile, had valid points but he was not going to pick a fight with her for reasons he did not have to explain.

Ayvee... He liked her dedication to the work of reconnaissance and how she got details he would have otherwise missed - She was easy on the eyes too, but he was not here for that; he was here to get valuable experience in combat and teamwork, and to do that, well, he had to like the other members of the team. Thank God that they were so easy to like because he was going to work for the squadron's prosperity as long as he was there, now.

Bell and Sebastian? Who were they? He didn't know a Bell or Sebastian; they were water off a duck's back - Ignore-able and irrelevant.

He had less than two hours to get ready for deployment; so he should check his tablet for the itinerary and checklist; get a shower, and download an e-book of English-to-Maltese phrases and words. Oh, right, he should also take a quick bite to eat and get some coffee; the good kind, to stave off the boredom of a long flight - Can he sneak in some small talk with one of the others before that?

@Rhona W@AtomicNut@AvaP@Kensai@Smike

Aurélie sat in silence, somehow appearing ramrod straight yet relaxed at the same time. She was almost preternaturally still, only her eyes flicking back and forth as one or another of her new squadron mates spoke - she would not think of them as comrades yet, not until they had proven themselves. But oh, these Americans! Almost like Italians, so many words and gestures when they spoke, and always saying the same thing over and over again....

Meanwhile, she had been taking notes on all that was happening. Copious notes, not just on the mission.

Lázaro Ruiz
As the exchanges between fellow pilots went on, Lázaro couldn't but bother than the cheap coffee he had pilfered didn't seem as appealing as the Holy Lady Jane and her husband that dude of Boston had arrived with Thermos to sate the thirsty. Seriously, why was that woman into the fighting pilot business? Wouldn't she be better flying as an NGO to bring hope to the despaired via airdrops. Cheaters never prosper, I guess? He thought to find himself, a little pang of guilt as he took one of the thermos. There was also Wonder Blonde bringing some doughnuts. Odd, but adorable in the kind of way of an akward puppy way?

The less to say about Pukey Smokey the better. Who the hell had screened his candidacy? Well, a mystery unsolved. He shrugged his shoulders. The different personalities were showing. Some infuriatingly like the teacher's pet. Some raised concerns, he guessed. Fair. Some just... not caring about everything at all. Some lost. And Some eager to be proto-conspiracy nuts.

Eh, it beat being in a team of sadist murderers like the word mercenary carried usually. PMC was just whitewashing it.

"Gracias." He said to the couple, a wink of complicity. "You keep this up, I'm gonna steal your wife, Major Boston." He hushed a whisper as he took a stroll, as he sipped the fresh brain zapping black mana of the gods, eyeing the briefing with a somewhat bemused expression.

"Down, boy." He said to Mykhailo, sarcastically. "I appreciate your eagerness but... you know. Rome and the Cilicians. The Christian Kingdoms versus the Barbary pirates. History funnily, once again repeats. Whenever there's the wealth of Order and Civilization rising, somewhere else plunderers rise. Plunderers who are weaponized. Possibly by rivals. Eh, eventually we'll find out. No need to have such deep readings on so little info. We gotta be careful. Because for us it's stamping *rats* in the end, and we will be frowned upon failure. And for them, it might be the time of their lives." He pause. "Go go, fight the power." He added, raising a left fist on the air sarcastically.

He cleared his throat. "Shit, is this philosophy blend? Really nice brew." He looked at the thermo in a faux surprise look."But I'm wagging my tongue. It's been said we're not in the best situation. I do agree. These kind of folks do scurry around. We're going in an undermanned situation from the info, quite probably, and we don't really know what we're against. On first instance I'd suggest packing more cameras to catch who's stealing from the cookie jar. I would say intel is more valuable than kills right now."

He breathed."There's also some matter that I am a bit ...picky about. Well, I'm not sure about mon capitaine but we're flying on the tried and tested Mare Nostrum, at least on my regard. Hot sea, Like an ocean in miniature, with their miniature hurricane like storms. Those things appear and vanish all of a sudden, being smaller than the oceanic storms, and can probably...well, it is not fun usually getting in the middle of one of those. I'd also ask to double check the meteorological conditions. We're not outside storm season." Lázaro kept on, sneaking a small snip at the furious tiny frenchwoman on a note taking frenzy.

"Although, if one of these suckers manages to hit while our friends are trying to do their piratey plundering, it migh cause enough disruption for us to capitalize. Since we got like, half of the mediterrean info on Weather Radar's worth, we can probably navigate around the hypothetical storm and use it as camouflage. It sounds insane. It is insane. But hell, if it makes the situation better, I'm up for storm riding." Lázaron concluded.

"Oh and one last thing. Can we get beach time in Malta after this? It's really nice, you know." He grinned.

March 12 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters

Scott listened as his new pilots got to their questions, and they began a discussion among themselves. He was pleased to see them already so engaged and on the ball with the information provided to them, and he chewed his donut as he listened to the back-and-forth before he joined in to answer the questions.

"Brightspark, to answer your questions; no, as far as we're aware Russia - or what's left of it - isn't involved directly. The hostiles have been using Soviet equipment... but then, that doesn't prove anything. We could go out to the flight apron right now and see at least an even dozen soviet aircraft, since they exported their gear to everyone and their grandmother, and then Megacorps have been mass-producing more of it since. As for the NCAA; well, that's more likely, but so far no concrete proof of anything. We may well change that by getting involved, but it's not part of our operation to find out who's behind it - just to do something about it for the meantime"
He nodded as both Boston and Fuka answered the rest of the young man's questions directed at him.
Boston spoke up next, following his reply to Mykhailo with a question to him, Ayvee joining in on it too.
He appreciated her their attitudes, professional and direct. He directed a small, firm smile to them and nodded as he answered.
"The AWACS will be remaining overhead for directing and aiding our operations and those of any other friendlies in the area. It won't be going forward to carry out the recon mission. But yes; I did have an eye on your two aircraft for that particular part of the operation. Obviously, we'll adjust accordingly once we're on station. But it seems like the most obvious choice, given both airplanes' particular features. We do have options though, given the aircraft we have at our disposal in the squadron".
Fuka's question was a good one, and he answered her after taking another bite of his donut, nodding as he chewed.
"We'll have a detachment of airfield security deploying with us, they'll be equipped for defending the airport from air and ground attack. They'll be reinforced by local forces as well. We'll be supplied by regular logistics flights from the European mainland as well, to keep us topped up with bullets, bombs, and beans, as long as air superiority is maintained and the airport is secure. Currently the hostiles have no foothold on Malta itself, so things are secure. But that may change, of course, hence the deploying of a security force with us. I'm apparently not fit to be gifted with the wider strategic plan, but there were implications made that our op is to be followed on by a larger force coming into the area once we can take out these..." he twirled a finger in the air and shrugged "...I guess, raiders?"

Lazaro spoke up, and Scott listened in, nodding along with his words where appropriate, and a smile creasing his tanned features again as he picked up the laid-back humour in the spaniards' words. He had a charming, breezy demeanour that was hard not to like or be amused by - but that also concealed a sharp mind, it seemed.
"Good thought on the storms and the weather, Circus. I'll take it into account, and see if we can't request additional reports from the weather reconnaissance department. If the chance to take advantage of those situations comes up, we should use it - and, equally; be aware of how it might affect us, too". He gave a grateful nod to Circus, and then grinned at his mention of the beach.
"Let's hope we do get a chance to enjoy it as well. If we get a moment of peace, I'll depend on you to show us the good spots".

Retaking the initiative, he spoke up to the transport and helicopter pilots further back in the room.
"Lily, Snowman, Traveller, Showgirl. The C-130 is slower, and the Panther will need to be loaded aboard one of the heavy transports, which again; is gonna be slower than us. Timings are planned so we should all arrive at approximately the same time, however; even if it involves you all taking off first and travelling a different route. Your flight charts and immediate orders have been sent across to you, so do what you need to".
He turned his attention back to the others, and gave a tight smile and a nod, sparing a glance for the petite Aurelie, who hadn't spoken up to ask any questions or make any comments, but had been dutifully and earnestly making notes the whole time. Admirable attention to detail; though, privately he wondered if all of them were about the mission - regardless, it didn't bother him. As long as that professionalism translated to her flying, she'd be fine.

"That goes for the rest of you, too. Be on the flight line at thirteen-hundred. Grab some chow, pack your gear, and I'll see you there. Dismissed!"

He waved them toward the door, heading for it himself after folding the screen down on the hardened laptop, stepping out into the hallway and opening the door to the background noise of the island and the headquarters building. As he did, his personal tablet chimed with a notification, and he paused to check it - the information had already been updated; Bell and Sebastian were being reassigned to other squadrons, while Cobalt Haze would receive a new assignment once they reached Malta, a late arrival.
It didn't overly change plans at this stage; at least the reassignments hadn't come once they were on station and the aircraft and pilots hadn't been figured directly into his plans. It was a shame to have lost two bodies and two planes, but he'd manage. The rest of his people seemed confident, capable, and eager, and that in turn gave him confidence in what they could achieve.

@Letter Bee, @Smike, @Thayr, @AtomicNut, @Kensai, @AvaP

---

"The AWACS will be remaining overhead for directing and aiding our operations and those of any other friendlies in the area. It won't be going forward to carry out the recon mission. But yes; I did have an eye on your two aircraft for that particular part of the operation. Obviously, we'll adjust accordingly once we're on station. But it seems like the most obvious choice, given both airplanes' particular features. We do have options though, given the aircraft we have at our disposal in the squadron.”

Boston nodded with some semblance of understanding. Yeah, they’d be the loitering one, probably with most hardpoints dedicated to drop tanks, sensors, and a handful of AIMs, and considering how big of a radar signature there’d be he expected they’d be the bait, too. The other aircraft could be a silent shooter, sure, and that gave him some comfort, but if they were using that plane for observation too…yeah, they wouldn’t be silent. He swallowed, continuing to listen to the Lt Col. The other bits and pieces were interesting, and good to know - especially the point about the weather - but was generally things to be expected. Boston was somewhat surprised by the fact that the transports would be taking off first, all things considered. If they got hit, there’d be a bad time and a half.

Jane sighed, long and deep. Yeah, the weather would be hell on their flight paths and even potentially on their radar picture. She knew they’d be taking pods, both for sensors and a jammer, but radar ducting would be a pain. Likewise, the woman was less excited about the prospects for flying patrol paths. Freight Train was fast and heavy, the turns would be annoying, and any patrol path could eventually be predicted by an enemy. Given enough time, the raiders could put together a good enough picture to fire on them even beyond their normal radar ranges, and with the potential hazards of the weather that could be more of a problem than normal. She leaned over a little, talking low.

“We’ll need an 184 and some buddies, y’know.”

He turned his head slightly, cocking his head back. An ECM pod and Little Buddies, ALE-50 towed decoys, that’s what she meant. “Probably, yeah. And some other stuff. We’ll see what they make us take and plan from there, though. Not the normal type of strike mission, I think.”

“Well, yeah. It’s Malta. Med’s always not been normal.”

“I hate it too, hun.”

"That goes for the rest of you, too. Be on the flight line at thirteen-hundred. Grab some chow, pack your gear, and I'll see you there. Dismissed!"

He stayed leaned over, seated while the others left. “I’ll order delivery on the way there, you want Mickey D's or Panda?”

“Panda. Definitely Panda.”

“I’ll pay.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s today? They have what…tenders and fries for lunch at the mess?”

“Hamsters. It’s hamster day.”

“They have em burnt again, I’ll fight that cook for his job.”

“Then I’ll have an idiot in my plane. I know you’d win.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo was satisfied that he had made a passable first impression with his comrades; not exceptional, but not dismal, either. So he went off to check his checklist and itinerary first, then went to the showers to keep himself clean, then went to get lunch - Corned beef with hash browns and the best coffee the cafeteria can afford. He also bought an English-to-Maltese phrasebook for himself. Then, the young man decided to spend at least ten minutes talking to his parents; he missed them, after all.

He sought a bench where he could pull out his Smartphone - Like heck, he was going to use a military pad for private correspondence and risk getting somehow hacked if someone stole his parents' phones - And call his Mother and Father, telling them he was going on a mission and that he will be less available to chat for a while.

The young man missed his parents; it was not old news. After all, they were his Mom and Dad; they stuck with him, they helped him through his grief at losing Artemio, and they accepted him for who he was. And beyond that... They made each other happy. One day, he will have a spouse of his own - male or female - and they will adopt or conceive a child of their own.

It was while dreaming of that optimistic future that the young man ran into someone; if it was Lázaro, Mikhaylo would remark, "Hey, Mr. Ruiz - Circus - how have you been doing?"

If it was Aurélie, Mykhailo would say, "Hey, Chevy; how are you adjusting to life here? Are you okay with the prospect of fighting previous employers? Also, any rivals I should know about?"

The same question would be asked of Valkyrie but with an additional note of, "Also, I'll be blunt; have you worked with or for the Nation East of the Ukraine? If so, I'm glad you're on our side now; you're a badass and you'd make a fearsome enemy if you were not with us."

Ayvee... He planned to ask her out on a casual date, but he felt bad about doing so because he liked men more and he was not sure how she'd feel about something like that, even if she was accepting of his orientation. As for Fuka, Mykhailo planned to ignore her as long as she ignored him; best not to provoke her ire.

@Rhona W@AtomicNut@AvaP@Chronic@Kensai@Smike@Damo021

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

She gave the boss a silent thumbs up as he explained their security detail, deciding to hold off on asking the questions his answer had spawned. As far as she knew Shattered Steel's security forces were competent enough to ward off other PMCs, but Malta was likely a different question. The days of the Crusades were long gone. How likely was it that such a little island so reliant on outsiders even before the Heavenstrike would be capable of standing up to a determined assault?

They would never need to find out, provided that Fuka and the rest of Cobalt did their jobs. Hopefully, the 'raiders' would get the hint after a few of them were sent to watery graves, and if not, well, it was good that her pay wasn't based on how long it took to pacify a threat.

Scott gave them the order to fuck off and Fuka obliged, finishing her doughnut as she tramped out the door. Had she known they were relocating only hours after her arrival she would have just brought her bags into the briefing but hey, that was life.
------
It took a little bit of time to backtrack to her very temporary quarters, but having simply tossed everything into a pile, she didn't have to bother cleaning the place up. That left her plenty of time to wander aimlessly, something she had long since gotten used to. Regardless of branch or organization, hurry up and wait was the cornerstone of any military career.

She hadn't been looking for anyone in particular, simple chance steering her to the same bench as the kid from the briefing. She sat without waiting for an invite, looking straight ahead as she lazily unwrapped a lollipop.

"Hey there wunderkind, how're you doing?"

@Letter Bee

Mykhailo Martinez

Fuka was being... Nice? Mykhailo smiled before replying, "I... I'm well. I'm talking to my parents right now; telling them I'm on a mission and will be less available, and also not to worry - Although they will. Honestly, maybe they should have another child; perhaps a daugther. I don't want them to be beraved by me... dying, after all."

The young man chuckled at that, before saying, "Everyone's scared of death. But that's why we find reasons to fight anyway, despite the risk. For me, it's stopping people from dying."

Like Artemio, not that at 2014, I can go brag about having had a boyfriend.

He kept the follow-up brief, asking, "So, tell me about yourself? You're my senior, after all?"

@Smike

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

The boy sure did put out a lot of words! Fuka had given him one sentence and he had given her a breakdown of his status, how his parents were doing, a philosophical statement about the meaning of life and then a question. The senior pilot watched his display of verbal acrobatics with quiet amusement, chewing on her sucker until it was her turn to speak.

“There’s not much to tell. Army brat from a political family, was a Ranger after the Heavenstrike until I got my arm blown up, Navy pilot after that and now I’m here. I’m more interested in you.”

A final crunch of her teeth reduced the hard candy to sugary dust, Fuka removing the stick from her mouth and gesturing with it towards Myk.

“You look barely old enough to shave, what service were you in before this? You see any action?”

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo froze a little, then let out a deep breath before saying, "I'm fresh out of flight school - Military Flight School; the best in the Philippines - but I've been in Shattered Steel long enough to see some missions and shoot down a few planes, bomb a few pirate ships, shoot missiles at ground troops maintaining emplacements, and basic stuff like that. So I've had combat experience."

He paused and said, "My... Let's just say he's a dear person to me - He got killed in a riot that involved disinformation that I believe is from the Nation to the East of Ukraine. I want to stop people like him and me and others too from being hurt. This is why I fight; while I am Half-Ukrainian, my mother's country matters more to me as a buffer between the N/UN's world and that nation. But yes, I've had combat experience and the Flight School I was in was a Military one with military discipline and training; is that enough?"

@Smike

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

He had a hell of a story, and Fuka wasn’t sure she liked it. You could get away with recruiting a kid right out of high school to be a grunt because being a grunt didn’t require much in the way of brainpower; there were plenty of soldiers who served admirably and were also knuckle-draggers. Becoming a pilot was a whole different story. It was a jet for fuck’s sake, not a Charger being sold for triple the market price.

And to make things worse, Wunderkind was principled, principled in a way that smacked to Fuka of naivety, a trait she had very little time for.

“You can say ‘Russia’, they won’t hear you.”

She kept her voice light even as she gave him an impish grin, flicking the stick end over end with her prosthetic arm, working to keep her dexterity up.

“Regardless, what makes you think they’ve got anything to do with your buddy? Not to put too fine a point on it but that whole region is a shitshow, our pals in Moscow barely have a government. I’d say that when Ukraine is nearing non-existence on its own, riots might pop up organically.”

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo knew he was not the best, but also knew he was good enough, and hoped he had proved that to Fuka. As for her next question...

"We know how to track misinformation," he finally said. "There was a formal investigation; we found various scam accounts linked to Russian media companies - Those of them that remain - As well as various Russian ultranationalist accounts on social media."

He trembled with rage, letting a flicker of anger show in his face. "They are rebuilding their power with the help of the New Central African Alliance; their ideology may differ, what they claim to value may vary, but they want their old power and control over people's lives. The future they want is not the future I want - They create a living nightmare for anyone remotely different and call it 'meaning and community'. They say that belonging to something greater requires 'struggle and sacrifice' - Imposed by them! Well, I won't let them threaten my family or my way of life - I will fight. The N/UN isn't perfect, but it's better than what they want for us..."

@Smike

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

Oh he was mad mad, whoops.

Fuka listened to Wunderkind’s diatribe with all the easy passiveness of a captive audience, riding out the emotion-laden rant even as she flashed back to her own childhood. He sounded almost like her father had when someone got him started on the Soviets, taking geopolitical reality and turning it into a fantasy conflict of good versus evil.

Fuka didn’t find that very helpful. She knew her side and its faults, and she tried to avoid falling into the trap of assuming her team did no wrong and the others did nothing right. But at the end of the day, her opinion mattered as much as Myk’s did: zilch. They existed to drop bombs on designated targets and blow up enemy airfields, regardless of their trust (or lack thereof) in the N/UN.

That said, she was bored and kind of an asshole, so she kept prodding to see if the whiz kid could hold his own in a conversation.

“I mean, what do ‘they’ want for ‘us’ that isn’t what ‘we’ want for ‘them’? End of the day the N/UN is doing the same thing as China or the Centras, or Russia for that matter: get people on their side and away from the other, by hook or by crook.”

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo tried to calm down and found it surprisingly easy. His expression relaxed, before he said, "True, the N/UN will probably do its share of unsavory things in return for victory and yes, revenge. Each blunder and genuine crime will be used to 'prove' we are hypocrites, and as the conflict goes on, it'll probably become true. Our sense of optimism will become tired over time and lead us to a darker path one day... But not today. Right now, I still fight for those I care about and myself. Maybe the time will come when we gaze into the abyss too long and become like our enemies, just less vile... I dread it when it happens."

He got up and asked, "So, how much time do we have left? If we have another five minutes, one last round of talk?"

@Smike

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas

She had been hoping he would take the bait, but unfortunately for her Myk regained his calm. She answered his musings with a shrug, the lollipop stick still twirling between her fingers as she waved off any concern of moral decay.

“It’s easier if you just treat it as a job. Don’t invest yourself in it more than you need to, you watch your back and your buddies, everything else comes after.”

She checked her watch, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ve got plenty of time. What’s up?”

Mykhailo Martinez

Mykhailo smiled and asked cheekily, "If you're up for a little cradle-robbing, want to go out together once we get to Malta, maybe with or without shooting down any enemy attempts at interception?"

The smile on his face indicated he wasn't serious... Or was he?

He then chuckled and added, "Sorry; couldn't resist! Seriously, though; I had to try..."

@Smike

March 12th, 2014
Shattered Steel Headquarters, 'The Forge'
Unnamed island in the Bahamas



@Letter Bee,@Smike,@Thayr,@Rhona W,@AtomicNut,@Kensai, @AvaP

Lázaro Ruiz

Lázaro hurried along the corridor, his body language angrier than usual. He was grumbling to himself as he kept doing his routine checks and preps before a flight. He breathed deep, and looked at his reflection on a metallic surface. Yep, he did look like an angry man right now.

"What's the matter, Circus. Is it because you paid me three hundred?" The same voice of the staff member whom he had swiped coffee answered back. "Oh, and thanks for the thermo coffee, by the way. So this was Jane's? Boston is indeed a lucky man." He chimed as he saw Lázaro grumbling about.

"I always pay my debts before a sortie, remember? No one knows what will really happen." The Spanish pilot grumbled back. "It's because I had to eat that ungodly slop of lunch at the mess hall."

"You? eating there? Did you hit your head with something?" The man replied.

"Try the damn cat stealing my smuggled super special iberico ham. Again. I'm really going to skin him and use him as rug." This prompted a laugh from his heckling companion.

"Shall I see if Fletcher can ride your red beauty? If he keeps besting you perhaps we'll have to employ him as pilot." The technician said, inbetween laugh.

"Dude, fuck you. Be glad this isn't the airforce." Lázaro sighed as he began to walk away.

"Hey, Circus." The techie said, a fist in his direction. "You know it gets dull without you around, right? Fly high."

Circus rolled his eyes, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips as he fistbumped the techie. "Fly free. I'll get you some killer pictures for postcards or something."

"Nah, make it another three hundred." The techie said.

"Hah. I'm not going to sell myself cheap next time." Circus waved him goodbye, when someone caught the attention. There was a new *bird* on the runway, he could hear the sound, having a slightly different thrumming to the machines that used to cruise at this hour.

"A new toy? Interesting." He thought to himself as he went to check on his own plane. "I wonder if they'll let me take it for a spin..."

The drive back to the beach house wasn't a long one, as much as Ayvee wanted it to be. She knew the med would be nice, but nothing could beat these sun-kissed beaches as far as she was concerned. Stepping into the rented house, she began to pack her things. How many times had she moved around? Much like her flight hours, it just gets to a point where it's not worth counting anymore.

After quickly changing, it took little time at all to pack her humble belongings into her two suitcases, a duffel bag, and a flight bag, before returning to the company car. She now wore her more professional flight attire. Flight suit, chest rig, and so on, but kept the sun hat and aviators on. She liked the straw hat she had picked up while staying here and felt oddly compelled to keep it on as she returned to the base.

---

After getting her personal effects in order, she walked towards the hangar where her aircraft was already being prepped. As they readied the aircraft, the ground crew had already begun removing the intake covers, safety pins, and so on. The sight of the Seahawk was always a pleasure for her. Its sharp angles, broad wings, and light grey-blue coloring always put a smile on her face. The grinning shark teeth were reflected in her aviators as that very same smile crossed her features.

"Well, glad to see she's been taken care of while I was gone. Nothing wrong?" Ayvee said as she approached. The crew took her bags and began loading them into her luggage pod. A large container structure that could mount to one of her internal hardpoints. One of the crew came up to her with a nod and a friendly smile.

"Seems to be Reagan, the company finally found an excuse to kick your lazy ass off the beach eh?" he said with a chuckle. Ayvee held up her hands in a shrug.

"From one beach to another, truly they're real slave drivers around here. Speaking of, how's Miranda doing for you, Johnny? Still calling you every waking hour?" said Ayvee, now putting her hands on her hips. Johnny rolled his eyes and gave a dismissive wave. They had met a few months ago when she'd arrived at a bar. Made for a good drinking friend and they hit it off pretty well. A happy coincidence he'd be on the company's maintenance team, but then again, pretty much everyone on this island was employed by Shattered Steel.

"Hey, I can't help my wife misses me so much. But that's nothin new, what is new is that team of yours. What do ya think?"

"Well... I mean Valentine seems fine, if a little... how do I put this, "try hardish?" maybe? I don't know, it almost felt like he was forcing it a bit, but he seemed to get into the swing of things by the end of the brief. As for the rest, Christ where do I start? We already had two drops, another replaced, and we haven't even gotten off the ground. And the boy wonder! Kid looked like he wasn't even old enough to drink! How he ended up here is beyond me. Wild." Ayvee finished with an exasperated sigh. She then pulled out her tablet and scrolled through the roster. "And finally, we got one who should have been arriving around..."

Ayvee paused and the two both looked over as a Gripen with an eye-catching tail art taxied onto the flight pad. Ayvee squinted her eyes, looked down at the pad, then back up at the jet as it rolled to a stop at one of the tie-down points. As the crew chalked the wheels, Ayvee couldn't help but laugh a bit, earning a curious glance from Johnny. "Well, that's her. Our last-minute addition. Guess I will go break the bad news she's not staying too long. Take care, Johnny, I'll miss ya. Tell Miranda I said hi... oh and send me your home address, and I'll send you a souvenir or something!" Ayvee said, shaking his hand and jogging over to intercept the woman as she made her over to the FOB.

"Hey! Valkyrie right?!" Ayvee called as she caught up to her. Catching her breath quickly, she held out a hand. "Ayvee Reagan, call me Stingray. You're the late edition yeah? Got the update through the company group chat." Ayvee glanced over at the Gripen, seeing the crewmen beginning to unload the luggage. "You uh, you might wanna tell them to not bother. Hope your flight wasn't too long but we're actually about to roll out here." Ayvee said with a sheepish laugh. "So it goes in our line of work, huh?"

@Damo021