[center][h3]Before the Drop[/h3][/center]
[indent][code]Orbit above Skogsrå_
INS Roanoke, 101st Special Forces Legion. Local Time: 1150_ [/code][/indent][hr]
[color=pink]"Bad news, Brandt."[/color] Sabine whined as she skipped into the briefing room- less room, and more an empty space in the hangar. The smaller pilot was seemingly content to use the relatively larger man as a shield to keep between her and Hex. [color=pink]"Looks like Hex's gonna make it, so I couldn't grab you her stuff- so no cigars."[/color] Her eyes found Elliot's, though quickly dropped to the sides of his seat- zero cases of beer in sight garnered him a disapproving frown, though Kodos beginning his briefing seemed to silence any reprimands from her for the moment.

Despite still being the busiest section of the ship, at the moment it was surprisingly clean and empty- relatively speaking anyway. Gone were the brigade of engineers and techs, only a skeleton crew left in place. Ammo and gear stocks had been practically cleaned out of the hangar, leaving the open space considerably larger than what the pilots were used to. The only things still in place were their mechs, patched up and reloaded as best they could be, what remained of the crew currently applying heat-treated gel coatings for the burn in. A vast amount of the materials- and crew- the 7th would need to perform their duties were currently already stowed on the Roanoke's transport shuttles: A pair of heavily armored TS-220s. [i]Relatively[/i] nimble for their size, but generally ungainly at the best of times, and heavily laden with the addition of the Roanoke's marine platoon and a dozen ultra-light infantry support and loader MAS, the shuttles could take a fair amount of flak, even a SAM or two- but were practically sitting ducks should it get down to a dogfight. Luckily for all of them, the shuttles weren't making the same drop as the 7th, instead they'd be dropping much further out of the area of operations, before converting into a vehicle convoy and hoofing it to the rendezvous. 

The briefing went as expected, the 7th of course weren't here to do grunt stuff- even if that's basically what their first sortie had been about, though defense of their carrier was generally considered [i]every[/i] pilot's task. Unfortunately, special unit tasking often meant making unsavory choices- or decisions that might go against what they grew up learning. Sabine frowned a bit as Braide spoke up, it was understandable if he felt uncomfortable about it, especially since he was new to the special units, but unfortunately it was just how things panned out. Brass at the top ultimately deemed the nanoforge as more important than any individual life or unit.

[color=pink]"If it makes you feel any better you don't have to like it- you just have to do it."[/color] Sabine chimed in, though her voice, while still light lacked its usual mocking or sarcastic quality, [color=pink]"Boss is ordering it because the brass is ordering it. We're all just one big cost-benefit analysis on a spreadsheet as far as they're concerned."[/color]

[color=pink]"[i]I[/i] won't stop you from playing hero though,"[/color] Sabine winked at him, her voice hushed to vaguely- if likely unsuccessfully avoid Sagan's ears. The 7th, or at least individuals within the 7th, were never particularly well known for their strict adherence to orders. As long as they got the job done, anyway. [color=pink]"Just don't include it in your after-action report."[/color]

As Kilmer chimed in with his own questions, the briefing projection switched over to a tactical battlemap for them to view. The city of Gelcastre was as heavily defended as the briefing suggested, satellite images updating in realtime showing the city as a hub of activity, though the heavy smoke from previously attacked sites didn't give them the clearest picture in some areas. Tanks and vehicles could be seen rolling through the streets and towards defensive points. Flak batteries and SAM sites were nestling themselves throughout the city. The fleet would be able to blast some of the sites from orbit, but the desire to keep the city as intact as possible meant that they wouldn't be dropping any space grade ordinance on the city centers, where a decent amount of the defenses were concentrated.

As far as aerial threats went, the landing forces would be up against a bevy of Fenrir IIs primarily, with a decent number of Sköllrs in the mix. Most were currently on the ground, and Fenrirs were nowhere near as capable as any of their units in an air battle, but a few squadrons of Garmr were making regular patrols across the sky along with what appeared to be a few squadrons of commandeered Naginata aerospace fighters. None of their scans had spotted anything similar to the Fafnir that had jumped them earlier- but of course, that didn't mean the Coalies didn't have another wundersuit hidden [i]somewhere[/i] amongst the mess.

As the briefing wrapped to a close, the launch alarm went off, the two shuttles taking off before the squadron did to begin their long voyage. Moments later the pilots were in their suits and preparing to launch.
[hr]
Their launch this time would be far less hectic than their previous sortie. The space above and around them was clear- and while there were still pockets of Coalition forces in orbit, battles taking place on the far ends of the line, space was relatively clear enough for them to launch without trouble. Their visual sensors would be greeted with a field of twinkling blue lights, thrusters from some untold number of MAS, and aerospace craft prepping their assault on the planet of Skogsrå itself. 

Low enough that the black of space had just begun to pick up a tinge of color from the planet itself, the 7th would find their blast shields waiting for them. Round, almost conical plates of alloy for MAS to mount their feet on. It would aid in atmospheric entry before being shed as the MAS entered the combat area- it could presumably soak a few hits from weapons fire in a pinch, but were generally not meant to be a ballistic shield. The first wave was already beginning their descent, flares of red and orange tails already visible on their monitors as mechs streaked through the atmosphere and towards the cloud layer.

[color=pink]"I've never liked these things."[/color] Sabine groaned as she set down on hers, her mech's feet maglocking to the drop plate's foot pads. Clamps lifted to wrap around the suit's feet and lock them in place, faint lights on the inside of the plate lighting up to denote the left and right in green and red, along with a set of bisecting lights to denote the plate's split points. [color=pink]"Rabbit, set."[/color] The added weight made maneuvering thrusters considerably less effective, and until it was shed, the suit was an easy target- but it beat trying to make planetfall alone. 

[color=pink]"Hey Rhino, remember Targovo? Vulture made us drop planetside [i]without[/i] plates to go swoop up some VIP. That was [i]fun[/i]."[/color] The pink haired pilot's lilted voice dripping with sarcasm. [color=pink]"Think Skogsrå's got giant lizards too?"[/color]