Feral had expected something of a welcoming party after being tossed through the air at a hovering vehicle. The two droids inside, however, proved to be remarkably unwelcoming despite the lengths she went through to reach them. Given that she had the advantage of time on her side, dispatching the droids as they unhooked themselves from the walls of the transport proved to be relatively easy. A parry here, and slash there, and the hacked apart pieces of her greeters would sent plummeting out the sides of the VTOL to rain down upon the Sarkaz below. Free from any interlopers, the Lupo had plenty of time to move through the machine and into the cockpit to see whether or not she would be met with more resistance.
Mercifully, it seemed not. The droids piloting the VTOL were hyper-specialized for the task, which led her to another conundrum—having the land the thing after she took care of its true pilots. If the rough entrance to Retra's HQ was anything to go off of, she did not much like flying, but with a timer ticking away and her squad mates waiting below, she had little choice. She would have to take over for these helpless drones. Exercising as fast a reflex as she could, the young Operator dispatched the two pilots of the vessel with a slash to the back of the head each, leaving them to roll about the cockpit as it suddenly careened to the left. Rattled by the sudden shift in motion, Feral barely had time to shove the deactivated husk in the main seat out of the way in order to grab the controls and yank them in the opposite direction to stabilize.
What followed made their chaotic landing on the Vindsvalr look like a cake walk. The VTOL jerked and swayed in the air, rocking back and forth and making at least one full rotation around as the distressed Lupo behind the metaphorical wheel tried her best to figure out the controls. It took her some time, but eventually she managed to intuit how to make it go down. So down it went, perhaps a little too fast for comfort, but not so fast that she crashed the thing into the street, or smooshed poor Vlad like some kind of vampiric mosquito. As the VTOL made its rocky landing, Feral dislodged herself from the cockpit, and made a shaky retreat out into the main compartment, poking her head around the side of the bay doors.
"I do not like flying."