[b]March 13th, 2014
Luqa, Malta, the Mediterranean[/b]

Freyja was an odd choice for Shattered Steel, and almost certainly a bad seed. Fuka had reviewed Cobalt's personnel records on her way to join them in the Bahamas and while she hadn't had time to hear the scuttlebutt floating around, she wasn't surprised that people didn't like the killer-for-hire. An ex-Air Force jock from a now-particularly insane part of the world who cut her teeth taking jobs for the highest bidder and dropped bombs on people who almost certainly didn't deserve it. If you considered yourself a "moral" mercenary, Valkyrie was a shame to your profession and someone you'd be honor-bound to dislike. 

Fuka was nowhere near sentimental enough to get worked up over her comrade's past. The big bad bomber bitch, bane of the N/UN supply train and killer of sailors-so what? You joined a PMC to get shot at by other PMCs, not to enjoy a long, happy life. It took a certain kind of jackass to get mad when a volunteer soldier died in combat. Everyone made choices in life, and sometimes those choices got you sent straight to the bottom of the ocean.  

Really, the blame fell on whoever was running cover that day. They had failed to send Valk directly to hell where she probably belonged, the weight of the drowned crew was on their shoulders. It wasn't Fuka's problem. She only needed to know that Freyja was good enough to do her job.

That remained to be seen, but if nothing else she asked good questions. It was nice to know that they wouldn't have to worry about the ships going up in smoke at the first sign of damage.
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[b]March 13th, 2014
Over the Mediterranean[/b]

The Super Hornet buzzed along in formation, a black dot contrasted against the clear blue of the sky. The Black Bunny's paint job gave up visual stealth in exchange for style, a swap Fuka was perfectly willing to make. By the time someone was close enough to spot her, she would already have popped up on sensors and at that point, it would come down to skill, luck, and lock-on speed. 

For now things were quiet, the ships chugging along far below. There wasn't anything for her to do except wait for targets to present themselves. 

"Cobalt Five, buzzing in. Waiting for vector to target."