[color=#F0FFF0]”Good save there Nata- Ah, um, I mean Jack!!”[/color] The boy stumbled, fumbled, and rolled over his own words in a stupendous fail at a congratulation, which somehow took priority over evading the oncoming fire from the Ferir currently following him like white on rice. But all good things must come to an end. Erwin’s frontal display lit up with notifications and subsequent markers to direct his gaze. Though the object- or as the pilot soon found out, objects that captured his attention were not headed for him, but towards a fellow squadron member who the youth quickly identified as Jenks. He readied the Zeitgeist to fly in front of the volley of missiles and draw them with whatever countermeasures left, may they be chaffs or his own MAS’ maneuverability, only to be locked in his current trajectory by a streak of 35 mm. Erwin shirked from the monitor at the very last second, refusing to register the white noise that now filled his eardrums. The youth flinched at the audible beep that denoted the fall of another pilot. He blanched to such an extent that the only thing capable of dragging him out of his current state was the sudden plume of alabaster cerulean that bled into the starry backdrop. Without even a second to breath, tumult poured into his helmet when the UEE forces succumbed to entropy and forewent any form of organization. Through the maelstrom of chaos, Admiral Bishop’s voice served as a bastion for the befuddled forces, but by no means did his wings carry any encouragement to the drastically dwindling supply of morale.

Erwin’s gaze trailed up to another sector of his monitor, now magnified by a quick flick of his finger to quell any disbelief. Thanks to the visual sign signifying their retreat, the Coalition’s gall only soared light years. The shit had hit the pejorative fan, and just in case enough salt hadn’t been rubbed into the wound, an ally ship seeking refuge with the omnipotent Solace had brought along a few more Coalition ships and another collection of Ferirs to join the fight. Already aware of where things were heading, the pilot tapped on his frontal display and set a waypoint for the only available haven in this vast cosmos, the Solace’s landing bay. [color=#F0FFF0]”On it, sir! Double timing it back to the hangar n- [i]eep[/i]!”[/color] His shrill cry was drowned out by the explosion of the Solace’s last escort ship, although at the moment he was personally preoccupied with the detonations of shells exploding around him. [color=#F0FFF0]”Negative, I can not land! I repeat, I can not land! Got one hot on my tail, and it’s not letting up!”[/color]

Erwin knew full well the situation had boiled down to two simple elements: do or die. If he tried to gun it for the bay and push the Zeitgeist to its fullest, there was a slim chance he would make it. But it was a very, very slim chance. A minute number of tears fell onto the control board, completely unknown to the young adult. He sniffled and ran his jacket’s sleeve across his face to dry up his cuts, [color=#F0FFF0][i]”Fight now, cry later.”[/i][/color] The resolve thought crossed his mind as he tightened his grasp, fingers firmly placed in the nooks. Even though logic was at play, it may have really been his own emotions that guided his hand.

With a lucid plan formulated in his head, the pilot yanked back on the control stick hard, sending the Light chassis into a backwards arc. While executing this maneuver, the MAS simultaneously fizzed out of reality with its existence enveloped in active camouflage. Maintaining his momentum, the Zeitgeist flipped itself over rightside up and barreled down on the set vector. With the knowledge of his MAS’ abilities already out there, the Ferir began to prepare itself for the imminent assault. Unfortunately, well, fortunately in Erwin’s case, the Zeitgeist beat it by time and sunk its dagger deep into the enemy MAS’ hull and plunged well into the pilot’s cockpit. After an attempt to retrieve the Acheron, Halcyon realized that the unwillingness to budge meant that his weapon was completely wedged within the chink. As enemy fire pounded against the dispatched Ferir’s back, the pilot took this as his cue to make a retreat. It was just in the nick of time, since he had exceeded the allotted time provided for the active camo generator. The Zeitgeist adjusted its angle and sped off back to the Solace.

His engagement with the Ferir was rather brief, and Erwin had ample time on his return because of it. In a hurry, the pilot relinquished control over his MAS to the magnetic intake system stock for most vessels. The Zeitgeist eased into its respective bay and rested on the ship’s floor. Aside from a few burn marks, the Light MAS was generally unscathed, despite the hectic skirmish it was just in. Inside of the mech, a twenty year old was in the midst of facilitating oxygen flow. With his eyes still locked on the frontal display, he autonomously reached for the control board and powered his MAS down. Even with uncontrollably shaking hands, the young adult managed to slip off his jet black helmet, which let out a faint [i]ksssh[/i] as he broke the airlock. Erwin placed it to his side and once the cockpit finally creaked open to the melodic tune of electronic servos, inelegantly swung his legs over and left the Zeitgeist.

The kid stumbled forward as soon as his feet touched the cool metal floor. Normally, a medic crew would have abided by procedure and awaited his arrival, but given how orderly things were at the moment, it was pretty obvious why nobody had helped him up. Erwin sluggishly picked himself up from the ground and let out a low breath. There was no point in getting angry over it. The dead were just that. Dead. In retrospect, it was a fairly simple concept. But the visible distraught on the pilot’s youthful face would state otherwise. A usually chipper facade now painted a glum and remorseful complexion. [color=#F0FFF0]”Cry later.”[/color] He murmured as a reminder to piece back together his composure. Although he had already homed in on the position of those who were already docked, Freund waited for the remainder of his squad to come home before proceeding.