Laytn nodded empathetically to Milo, and the man’s mention of returning to space. 

“Glad to hear it. It could always be worse, I suppose.” Opening his hands to include Lt. Gordon, he continued with a wry grin, “At this rate, though, I think I’ll be returning half of Earth’s sand to Side 3 in the pockets of my uniform.”

Looking down the row of Samson’s, Laytn could see Commander McKnight approaching. From amidst his fellow lieutenants, he tossed the man a perfunctory salute and a smirk.

“Milo’s right, sir,” Laytn said to the ranking officer, “Josh and I are really nothing more than walking pergolas at this point. It’s an honorary title.”

Laytn adjusted the boonie hat on his head, wiping away the drips of sweat that were already gathering at his brow, and the tip of his nose. The heat was oppressive, even if it was a “dry heat.” That description, a common phrase among Feds as he understood it, was a nonsensical expression to Laytn—the heat was uncomfortable, regardless of the relative humidity. 

Following Milo’s gaze, Laytn looked to the Zaku tank that was now assisting the mechanics with the tire change. As the hulking half-mobile suit, half-tank lifted the Samnson off of the sand, Laytn was surprised to realize that this was the day’s third flat tire. Tire trouble had been a part of the entire Zeon operation on Earth, but today did seem unique in its confluence of bad luck. Laytn let out a thoughtful “hmmm” in reply to Milo’s notion of the Earth itself conspiring against them. Coincidence did not sit well with him. 

Turning back to face his three companions, Laytn placed his hands upon his hips. “Three in a day is out of the ordinary. It’s probably nothing, but it might not hurt to take a more thorough look around.”

Looking to Commander McKnight, Laytn lifted an inquisitive brow, though his words were for all his comrades. “It might not be a bad idea to fire up Old Crow, and give the area a quick scan. Set up an overwatch even?”