Genna jumped up, hamster-like eyes wide, and shrieked as Anna emerged from the showers. She was in there the whole time?! With both hands held up, the pink haired engineer stammered, "I-I WASN'T CHECKING YOU OUT! I-it's not like I'm jealous or anyth-"

A pause.

A blink.

"Wait. Checking out your tank! Ooooohhhh....." Genna slowly realized. It was as if a switch was flicked in her mind, and the technically passionate side of her brain took over.

With her hands clasped together, the pink haired engineer babbled, "She is VERY lovely! Her construction seemed simple, yet I bet she hides a lot of interesting technology underneath that beautiful shell! I-I mean, I haven't seen her in action, so... does she really hover? And is she fast?? A-and do you think we could equip her with a gigantic railgun or two? Ooh! How about a rail machinegun?!"

Rhys took out a fifty dollar bill and handed it to the boy. "Keep the change, and thanks for the cinnamon rolls." Rhys smiled as he took the shopping bags for the rolls and stood up proudly. "As a Black Fang Pilot! We will beat the Mass and get everyone here to the south! So stay safe kid, and have a good day. But when I do feel like a sweet I will be sure to come back!" Rhys exclaimed as he gave a casual wave before he turned on his heel to see what else he can do for five hours.

He could head over to the hanger and inspect his Silhouette, there would be some pilots there since he had guessed a few of them would be serious...maybe he could find a gambling hall and earn a bit of extra cash that he had just used...Or find someplace to chill. Well, gambling for five hours straight would get his name out and lots of people would avoid him since he was good at what he did. Well, checking up at the hanger would not kill him. In fact he could check his ride out while he was there then see what else to do. Hopefully it passed the time so he could return here for some little trinkets.

With that, Rhys began to head straight for the hanger with both bags in tow.

Anna grinned "Well more firepower is never a bad thing... Perhaps you could join me next time I take her out? Theres plenty of room inside as these tanks were originally designed to hold a crew of three or four.."

Anna paused looking Genna over with a smile stepping closer she ran her hand though one of Genna's curls ( if she allowed) as she added "It would be a great way to get to know her and all she can do..."

From the northern border of the settlement, one could see small clouds of dust kicking up from behind the wavy dunes. A convoy of armored Humvees and open-air jeeps led the dust trail, Haven's temporary settlement well within its path. The remote guns mounted on the armored vehicles were turned away as a sign that they weren't looking for trouble, though attacking a mobile fortress armed with fifty cannons would be suicide regardless.

Under the shade of one of the tents, a circle of officers playing cards exchanged glances with each other as a sentry reported the movement in the distance. They messily pulled their jackets on and parted from their stations, trekking up one of the higher dunes and flagging the unfamiliar vehicles down with wide hand gestures.

In front of the convoy, the passenger side of the leading Humvee opened up and a uniformed man stepped out to greet them. From the look of his wear, he didn't appear to be affiliated with any organization - just a simple desert camouflage outfit, probably handed down or borrowed from some old military equipment storage.

Briefly adjusting his glasses, he rubbed his gloved hands together as he began to speak: "Good afternoon! Black Fang, right? We've actually arrived from one of our outposts further up north, but due to some. . . unforeseen circumstances, as it were, we are now mobilizing to head south."

"South?" one of Haven's officer's repeated, scratching the back of her head. "If that's the case, you might want to take the long way around. We're expecting MASS arrivals in several hours, I suggest that you take your crew and head southwest."

With a look of mild surprise, the other man nodded. "Really? Well, many thanks for the advice. I thought I'd give some fair warning myself - the wind is really starting to pick up there, so there may be a bit of a sandstorm coming your way. I don't know if the conditions will be too dangerous, but if you've got MASS to contend with, visibility might become something of an issue, I imagine."

"Oh, that's just great," the woman sighed, shaking her head. "Alright, thanks for the heads up. We might have to board everyone earlier than expected just in case. See you around and stay safe out there."

"Likewise." With a casual salute, the man returned to his vehicle and once more the revving of engines could be heard. As they started to make their way past the settlement, the officer dropped a call to Haven's base.

"This is Officer Lane to command, we've just had contact with a non-hostile armored convoy at the northern border. Seems like they were only passing through, but word has it that we should expect heavy winds to start blowing this way. Not sure if there's going to be a sandstorm like he suggested, but I thought I'd let you know in case you'd like to make preparations."

-

Somewhere in the distance, grains of sand began to slowly roll down their dunes.

"Hehe~ I've jsut been recently transferred to this base but I've been doing technical maintenance on vehicles and Silhouettes for as long as I can remember." Camille clarifies her prior work record. She may be a bit of a new face in fighting on th front lines but as a mechanic, Camille swears she could've tried for a supervisor's position.

"Just needed to know where all the things are." In the middle of their conversation, Anna emerges from the shower, catching Genna off-guard. Avery had already gone in so it was just her with the two ladies.

"Engineer Caridas right? Thanks for the help. I'll go look for him now!" Camille excused herself with a smile and promptly return to the hangar, leaving the other girls.

Hangar was mostly empty, save for Rhy whom she saw walking about, bags in hand. "Oh, right. Commander kid him about buying compulsory presents for the girls. Did he take it seriously?"

"Slow day?" Camille called out to him. "I heard winds are about to pick up soon so it's best to stay indoors. I might get called to fly out though."

As Rhys enetered the hanger, the first person to notice him and call out to him was Camille. He would have waved back but both his hands were occupied at the moment. "I though about passing the time in the hanger, we have five hours to chill and relax. Anyways I was planning to get some gift you all you ladies...but the shops were closed for the moment. So, I guess this will have to do. Sorry if Cinnamon Rolls are not your favourites. I would have got you a pendant to go with those lovely eyes of yours, but food is pretty good all the same." He smiled before continuing. "So winds are picking up huh? That means it's going to be a sandstorm out there...Low visibility and an irritating thing when it gets in your eyes. Stay safe out there then, if you are a fly girl then low visibility must be a pain huh? But anyways here, catch!" In the next moment, Rhys placed both the bags on the ground, took out a small bag of what appeared to be cinnamon rolls and tossed it at her.

Now that he looked around, the hanger seemed relatively empty...of people that is. There were the pilots Silhouettes standing at attention. He wondered where the others were though, if he met the others he could give them some Rolls as well. He had nine...Well eight now. But it was still quite enough to spare.

Genna took a step back and stared, a mildly startled look in her brown, round eyes. She did not audibly object when the older pilot felt up her pink curls, her mouth hanging open as she struggled to find the proper words.

In an attempt to shake off the awkwardness, the pink haired girl giggled. "Tee..heehee! Heehee!" Then, with a polite smile, she replied to her offer, "I'd have to take a rain check on that! I'm going to be really busy for a while. Heehe, these machines can't maintain themselves, you know!""

As if just suddenly remembering, Genna held one finger up and said, "Oh! That reminds me! I still have to help my team with Raiza's machine!" The girl turned around, kept an upbeat smile on her face, and sprinted out of the restroom while waving at Anna. "See you later, Anna! Excited to see your tank in action~"

================================================================================

"Officer Lane, this is Command. Thank you for the heads up, I'll alert Commander Neuf and all relevant personnel!"

With a sigh, Tsubaki leaned back in her chair, her eyes darting to the myriad screens around her. "Looks like we won't have five hours in the end...," Tsubaki thought aloud within Raiza's earshot. The operator glanced to the variable pilot and continued, a serious expression in her face. "It might be best if you and your fellow pilots get ready to sortie."

Without waiting for a response, Tsubaki spun in her chair and began typing away.

================================================================================

Tsubaki's commanding voice soon traveled throughout Haven and its surroundings, aided by the many speakers on board the mobile fortress.

"Attention to all Haven personnel! We have received word of heavy winds from the north. Mechanics and auxiliaries, please retreat behind the fortress' walls! Combatants, put on your pilot suits and prepare to sortie!"

In an instant, the previously, relatively calm hangar livened up with the rush of a thousand footsteps. Construction workers in yellow hardhats finished what they could, slid down their ladders, then headed deeper into the fortress, followed by engineers, custodians, and other non-combatants.

Renzam watched the scene unfold before him, catching sight of Camille's distinctive blue hair chatting with Rhys not too far away. The silver-haired pilot turned to Minerva. "So, our first combat operation together is going to take place in a sandstorm. Should be fun." His tone was deadpan, his expression unenthusiastic, or at least sedated.

Around the hangar, Renzam saw the pilots of more conventional fighter jets and crews of simple tanks strap into their skintight, yet padded pilot suits. Some could be seen complaining.

"Why do we have to wear this shit in the desert?!"

"Are you stupid? These suits shield us from the MASS' contamination! The black liquid they spew will rot your insides!"

"Isn't that why we're riding inside tanks and silhouettes in the first place?"

"Well, of course! But what if our fancy vehicles get busted? We can't survive out there without a suit for more than two hours, you know! The MASS really messed up our atmosphere...."

Renzam glanced to Minerva one more time, then nodded, encouraging her, "Good luck." before departing to change into his suit.

================================================================================

Lit by the blazing sun, the Eurasian refugees began their docking of Haven. Their final refuge, their last hope. Twenty thousand men, women, and children marched through eight entry points, two each on Haven's four sides, supervised by Black Fang soldiers both on foot and inside tanks.

With a megaphone in hand, a Black Fang soldier, clad in standard issue black pilot suits, barked through a loudspeaker, "Come on people! Let's march in an orderly fashion! There's room for everyone, no need to push!"

Amongst the crowd, a family of three huddled together. A middle-aged father with a toothbrush mustache, his pregnant wife, and their tiny daughter, clutching a teddy bear. The parents guided their daughter, holding her shoulders protectively with one arm each.

"Don't be scared, darling. Everything's going to be alright, now...," the mother encouraged her youngling with a smile.

"Black Fang will keep us safe," the father added, turning his attention to the organization's logo, painted proudly upon the mobile fortress' starboard. An ivory fang, upon a grey and blue shield, with pitch black blood dripping from its tip. The blood of humanity's sworn enemies, the MASS.

================================================================================

With a hiss and a click, Renzam sat himself upon the Diesever's cockpit. A narrow, boxy chamber, with large screens at his front and by his sides. The silver-haired pilot took a deep breath, sniffing the fresh coat of purple paint on the cold metal. his pilot suit, a magenta version of the standard Black Fang suits had been polished to match the clean colors of his cockpit.

In his hands was a magenta helmet to go with his suit. A headgear fashioned from the remains of Adzam Aubrey's own. The young man closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead against said helmet. When the Diesever was pulverized, the salvage crew deemed its cockpit far beyond restoration. This helmet, somehow, miraculously survived, remaining perfectly still, albeit heavily damaged, on his brother's mangled and bloody corpse.

"Hoy. Brother."

A long sigh. Renzam wondered why he said that. Out loud, at that. He was never religious. He did not believe in ghosts, or the afterlife, or whatever.

"...Nevermind."

Renzam stood straight, slid the helmet into his head, and twisted the Diesever's ignition. A low hum accompanied various green lights flickering to life around the cockpit, displaying tons of technical information on the black screens around him. Renzam quickly glanced around to scan it all. Silhouette parts integrity, ammunition stock, fuel supplies. The works.

His black gloved hands wrapped around one of the machine's levers. With the press of a button, the spiky-haired pilot alerted command. [magenta]"This is Caestus, on the Diesever. All systems go. Launching![/magenta]

A jagged line formed upon his silhouette's black visor. The hum emanating from its engines intensified. The machine's servos whirred and clicked, as it raised a foot, then stepped forward. A 15-meter titan of purple and lavender steel, with a swiveling bazooka mounted on its back left shoulder. Every step it took sent vibrations across the hangar, its movements rigid, heavy, precise.

The hangar gate at the bow slowly opened, bringing the bright sun into the dark hangar. The Diesever's boxy feet departed the cold steel floors and arrived upon the hot, coarse sand, standing tall and proud as one of Haven's prime vanguards.

Raiza stopped herself with a laugh, thinking about Tsubaki having a wolf, she turned looking at her with a tone to match the smile, "You can barely handle a gun in your presence, let alone an animal that weighs around forty-five kilograms. It probably would weigh more than you, Tsubaki." as the pen moved once more, it stopped, as she looked up, a screen was lit, showing the loose sand moving gently from presumably a breeze. While the sand moving was of no importance she looked back at Tsubaki, her voice being much, much more concerned,

"Tsubaki....? What have the wind speeds looked like throughout day...?" while she hadn't an idea what may come during the mission, Raiza had forgotten one thing, they're in a desert.... Sandstorms. They were almost impossible to deal with, as sand could get into almost anything that wasn't more or less airtight. Though she kept her strategy working, as she kept her eyes on several monitors, wind speed had played a factor in her tactic. As it would then rely on light signals.... That is, if everyone else knew of them...

Hours passed without much worth noting....

As Raiza had stopped her planning after a while, and soon had gone for a meal. Having been the type to eat light, she needed a healthy portion of food. Though it was harder in this time than any for her.... Picky (If one can call it that).... Eating habits. Little to the knowledge of most of the other enlisted members, Raiza favoured to not eat most meats. It wasn't too bad in a sense, as often she found a way to minimize the consumption of meats, as she'd get sick otherwise, and that was not a good thing.

Yet her search had been cut off by the familiar voice of Tsubaki once more, calling for a General Quarters, with a sigh the pilot turned on her heels before running towards the Hangar. A few minutes passed as the woman moved herself around the large rolling city, as she avoided the civilians that were entering. Every here and there, she slowed her pace to get around people without running into them. The rush had set in as she began moving once more, and this time, in a full sprint. It took a little time for Raiza's legs to carry her to Polaris, whom now had the full equipment that would scare any aircraft away, but once she was there, it took her two steps to climb into the cockpit, as she glanced to her allies she spoke into the radio, with a light laugh and tone, she spoke as the canopy lowered,

"You all best make it back, supper's on me." she laughed once more to herself, it was an attempt to motivate people and even cheer some up. As the systems booted up, she lit up her comm once more, "This is Black Rose, Please clear the runway." With a slight pause, her Comm lit up again, "Polaris... Launch!". And with that, she launched out once more, showing off her skill once more, this time, with one of the more unnerving move, a Tailslide. With her aircraft flying straight up, she felt the craft losing power as it got higher in altitude, before it stalled. With a calm breath Raiza felt Polaris slowly slipping back and down, here was where she would have to fight her own Silhouette. As she kept the nose up, she watched her altitude as she began to roll around, this time with the nose down, and once again, flew normally. While most thought she was showing off, Raiza knew what she was doing, she pushed Polaris as hard as it could, to ensure the controls are in perfect order.

Thus began another sortie for the Black Rose, with the gleam of the sun reflecting off the crimson skull....

"Attention to all Haven personnel! We have received word of heavy winds from the north. Mechanics and auxiliaries, please retreat behind the fortress' walls! Combatants, put on your pilot suits and prepare to sortie!"

Uh oh. Avery fumbled with the slippery faucet, managing to shut it off with a few messy attempts. Well, uh, I guess I didn't need to take a full shower anyway, she thought, a tad sour that she wasn't able to soak for a little longer. She hastily dried herself and tossed her clothes on, throwing a passing wave to the other three huddled in the bathroom. "I'll see ya guys on the field!"

-

Throwing open the latch with less trouble than she had with the shower faucet, the amateur pilot climbed carefully into the cockpit and shut the heavy lid over her head with both hands. The thing was really heavy so she had to heave a lot of weight into it, but at least the handle grip was pretty tight and comfortable to use. Even for a walker, the control layout and display panels were all rather simplistic - it wasn't very difficult to operate mobile artillery compared to something like a humanoid or variable mech. That wasn't to say that it didn't require skill to pilot, however.


Once the engine came to life, she took a moment for the systems to boot up before guiding the Stinger outside of the hangar and into the open, unforgiving desert. She checked the display window, finding that there were practically no winds to speak of at the moment. Hm, I'm not picking up anything right now. But if it's true, I sure hope it doesn't turn into a sandstorm. . .

Avery deployed one of the Scanner drones, laying off the steering handle and grabbing the remote controller. In working condition, thankfully. For now, she let it idle, suspended in the air - against heavy winds, she was likely going to have a hard time flying it around. It was pretty tough, but didn't have a lot of mass so it was likely going to be thrown around quite a bit - she may have to rely on communication with the other pilots to make accurate shots.

Being a newer recruit, she was still nervous, even moreso with the forecasted weather conditions. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and steeled herself for the coming encounter. Alright. . . let's make this work!

Anna was grinning after her talk with Genna but soon turned to a frown as she heard the announcement over the comm. She rushed to her DK-13 climbing in and starting her up.

The HUD came to life before her a full view of what was around her. Cameras on the outside of her DK-13 showed her a 360 view on screens just as clear as if looking though a window. Other screens flashed words in Russian telling Anna how much ammo, fuel, and such.

Anna grabbed the controls as DK-13's hover jets came online making the tank rise from the ground hovering several feet above the hanger floor as Anna checked in. " This is Blizzard, Death Knight tank DK-13 is online and ready."

Minerva's brow furrowed ever so slightly at Renzam's dispassionate remark, but said nothing. They might not have been particularly close, but... how could he just brush off the death of a family member like that?

However, there was little time to dwell on this, thanks to the sudden intervention of an alert broadcasted on the fortress's speakers. With a sandstorm approaching, the pilots were ordered to get ready to sortie in case any MASS decided to use the storm to mask their approach. So much for their five hours' break. Much like herself, Renzam didn't seem particularly thrilled at the prospect of keeping watch under such conditions.

"Visibility will be much lower in this weather. Be careful," she replied to Renzam's comment before going to change into her own pilot suit. As per protocol, the teams of mechanics retreated to the safety of the small city contained within Haven itself. After getting dressed for battle, Minerva made a run for her Silhouette as the other pilots prepared to launch. Clambering into the Sarissa's cockpit and starting up engines and communications, she could hear some of the other pilots checking in over the radio. Minerva checked the displays for ammunition levels and system integrity, strapped herself in and switched her gaze to the main screen showing the feeds from the Sarissa's external cameras.

"Athena, standing by. All systems green. Preparing to launch."

"So much for our break...Well time to begin some actual combat. Stay beautiful out there, and let's get back for lunch. Every last on of us!" Rhys smiled and with a quick parting wave to Camille ran off to get to his silhouette. As he ran the others were already on the ball, five pilots had already departed into the sandstorm already armed and ready. Well wasn't he late for the party...

As the alarms rang, Rhys quickly clambered inside his silhouette and deposited both his bags in a empty location of the pilot cabin. "This is Paladin-06, preparing for sortie." Rhys spoke through communication to let the others know to be careful. "Alright, let's see our hand...low visibility and possible MASS attack...And I have a heavily armoured slow metal behemoth that can act as a solid vanguard unit. Well let's see how this goes." He then went on to activate all systems. Engines check, weapons check, all systems green. He was ready to launch...or more accurately ready to lumber outside the ship. "Ready to move out." Rhys spoke with a tone of confidence. No time to lose your wits.

The Paladin walker groaned to life, the massive machine soon stepped forward from its platform and unlike the grace of many of the others who zoomed out of the hanger, he lumbered forward with an audible thud each time he took a step. Deffinity slow...but this thing should make it up in armor and...some good firepower. He did not have much combat experiance being a newer recruit however he had one thing going for him besides his charm of course. And that was some strong willpower.

Stepping out into the desert, the sand under the walker sank from the weight but thankfully it did not just continue to sink...however he was not going to test how long he could remain in a single spot on soft terrain. With his eyes and ears open, he nodded to himself. Time to prove himself as a decent pilot.

"Hey, thanks!" Camille thanked the bun Rhys handed over to her. As she had been quite a fast eater, she was able to devour the meal in a few seconds, watching the heavy winds pick up. For a while, it didn't seem like anything would happen--until Tsubaki's voice rang out from the intercom.

"Attention to all Haven personnel! We have received word of heavy winds from the north. Mechanics and auxiliaries, please retreat behind the fortress' walls! Combatants, put on your pilot suits and prepare to sortie!"

"One step ahead of you ma'am!" Camille called out to no one in particular as she hopped into the cockpit of her bird, working on the mechanisms to bring it to life. Fortunately, although it was considered an older machine, it's cockpit interface was far more advanced than most 21st century machines. It doesn't take a lot of skill to learn how to fly the thing. What would require skill is--

"A possible encounter with unpredictable wind speeds and low visibility terrain and limited ammunition and attack options...This isn't really a battle geared towards us..." Camille thought as the plasma engines revved up. "Buit if we can do our job well in this kind of environment, that might enable us to score some brownie points with the top brass. Might as well do it."

"Crow-04--all set to go in the VFM! Ready to launch anytime!" Camille responded, her hands ready on the throttle.

The Gobi Desert. 1400 hours. Haven's defense force mobilized around the massive mobile fortress. The Diesever, the Sarissa, the DK-13, and four tanks watched over the starboard entry, while the Paladin, the Stinger, and five tanks stayed vigil by the port side, both entryways pivotal for the masses of refugees which came. The nine tanks which accompanied the five silhouettes were considerably more primitive compared to the DK-13, built for suppressing and defensive fire instead of direct MASS combat.

"Heyyyy, Babe... hic... sweet... tanks ya got there....," a drunken tank driver called out to Anna, his slurry voice providing static through the intercomm.

"Marcus?! Have you been drinking AGAIN?" another tank driver reprimanded him.

From his cockpit, Renzam watched as thousands marched upon the ramp. Fathers. Mothers. Children. Merchants. Tradesmen. People of various shapes, sizes, color, and origin, yet of one destination. The Diesever's iron fingers wrapped around its bazooka's handle as the massive weapon rested on its shoulder. "This will take a while...," the spiky haired pilot thought aloud, transmitting his voice through the intercom. "Thank heavens this monkey suit has built-in air conditioning...."

Black Fang ground troops stood in front of the Silhouettes and the tanks, deployed to maintain peace and order, and, like the tanks, not to fight the MASS. One of the younger troopers looked up, gazing at the Stinger and the Paladin's huge and mighty forms, and whined, "Why can't I get one of those?", prompting an older trooper to bark at him, "Hey! Kid! Focus!"

"Scorpion has deployed the Stinger's scanner drones. Analyzing data...," Tsubaki's voice reported across each of the defense force's cockpit communicators. The operator's eyes and fingers moved about rapidly in the navigation tower as she shared a live feed from the drones' perspective. A steady, rhythmic beat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"This is Black Fang's outrider force, we'll scout from ground level," a hoarse voice remarked. Heavy engines roared across the dune sea as Black Fang soldiers rode atop rusted, yet agile jeeps. What the Stinger's scanner drones couldn't pick up from a certain distance, the outrider force would catch with their eyes. Until the sandstorm comes, that is.

While Scorpion's drones and the Outriders kept an eye on the ground, the Polaris and the Corvidae took to the skies, soaring across the blue expanse and followed by five less advanced, non-Silhouette worthy fighter jets, each bearing the Black Fang sigil upon their left wing, each following the lead of the two Silhouette pilots.

"Let's do our best, Madams!" one of the fighter pilots encouraged them.

Far ahead, across the ocean of sand, the fighter squad could see it. Colorless, formless distortions in the air, creating ripples the size of olden skyscrapers. A low, droning noise emitted from within, as the indescribable distortions swelled and contracted...

"I-is that it? Freaky..." one of the fighter pilots stammered.

Rhys looked across the desert, or more accurately stared at the massive sand wall mere inches in front of his viewport. So much sand, if some crazy person could gather it all they could make a massive city made out of sand. A reassuring thought which kept the buzzing nervousness in the back of his head. Sure, they were in danger of getting killed by some alien which would unnerve most people. But the last thing to do was show any of that, or even hear yourself with panic in your voice. Keeping a brave face would be pretty good for moral. "Alright everyone! Let's do some hard work out here. Let's go kick some mechanical ass and get back home in time for lunch. So, anyone know who our fireteam leader is? It would be a good idea to establish a squad leader to maintain order. You know, one person to give the orders instead of a mosh pit of ideas when things go to hell. Last thing we need are mix-ups." Rhys asked.

Sure, Rhys was no tactical genius or even a soldier. However one thing everyone could agree on was a head figure to keep them organised and running together as one. "Oh, and when we do get back I got cinnamon rolls for all of us. So let's work up an appetite!" Rhys added with confidence. A big grin plastered on his face which no one would see. One thing he learned, if one person is confident then others will be less tense. If he could show everyone that if they work their hardest they can win any battle, and with the weight of the civilians his determination could only grow at this point. "Time to see the enemies hand..." he muttered to himself.

Just pretend like you've been doing this all your life.

Avery leaned over in her seat and toggled the system's open communication channel, just in time to overhear what sounded like the first MASS distortion sighting from one of the scouting pilots. She turned on her own mic and sent a quick message back: "Scorpion here, do we have a confirmed visual on the rift? Send in coordinates when ready."

As she concluded the request, Rhys's voice crackled in through her speaker.

"Well, obviously I nominate myself," Avery half-joked in response. "And. . .did you say cinnamon buns? Man, forget about working up an appetite, I'm hungry right now!" She could feel herself salivating a little at the thought of it - she'd skipped out on her first meal of the day, or rather it had skipped out on her. "I can't wait to blast these things so I can get back and actually eat something today." Her stomach growled audibly for emphasis.

Really can't wait. Seriously starving over here. . .

Flying through the sky once more, it reminded Raiza of the older times she had, when everything was peaceful, where she could fly where she wished, how she wished, and had not worried about a MASS of flailing tentacles trying to kill her. With the sun gleaming in through the canopy once more, Raiza took a light breath, reminiscing in the days she so longingly missed. While there was a squad of five fighters, along with Polaris and Corvidae, it was notable that the pilot had not moved like her usual antics, more so flying straight, letting the jet itself fly, while keeping it level. It'd look bad should Raiza, someone whom credits herself with no crashes in any manner, just suddenly plummeted into the sand. Meanwhile, her mind drifted to her life before the MASS, wondering if the little plane she had been working on was still in working shape. Raiza was no engineer when it came to the more up-to-date jets and Silhouettes, but older planes she had some knowledge on, and could do minor repairs, it felt much easier to repair an actual engine, rather than.... Whatever powered the jet, it was lost to the woman as to what it was that caused the jet to fly.

Though said daydream was cut off by the chatter over the radio, mainly a few tank drivers bickering, since one was already drunk, at a mere two in the afternoon, well, it's five'o'clock somewhere.... A light laugh came from Rai, as she listened to the two argue a degree before the Outrider Force chimed in, giving a notice that they were scouting the ground, Raiza opened her radio to them, "You all be careful now." her words sounded that like a mother's, she didn't wish to see anyone else die, having dealt with the MASS for a while, she has seen various members of the Black Fang fall in combat, though several pilots chattered to Camille and herself, as they flew, she made a promise to every one of them, including Camille, and the Silhouette pilots on the ground,

"So you all know, I will do my best to make sure you six get home. Even if it means I push death to reach you, if you're in danger, and need help, I'll be right there. Let this be a promise to all of you." Her words were serious, Raiza wished to remain with the same squadron for as long as she could. Though one of the younger pilots pointed something out, that caught Raiza's attention, distortions, at the distance they were at, the distortions were faint, colorless and nearly invisible, rising as high as what Raiza had remembered were the massive skyscrapers she saw as a child. An instinct kicked in, as her Radio soon was alive once more, as Raiza's throttle increased ever so slightly, as Polaris entered combat speed,

"Distortions detected. Eighteen degrees Northeast, distance Five-hundred (NM). Closing in to engage. Adjusting course by fifteen degrees."

With Polaris speeding forward, Raiza prepares for the fight to ensue.