“That's alright, Cam, I figured you could use the pocket change.”

The cocky, irreverent quip did nothing to betray how fucking [i]bored[/i] Sparr was. Quieter missions had their place, even she didn't want to be getting shot at all the time, but this was ridiculous. Spending so much time in her cockpit was so [i]dull[/i]. She didn't have anything to do! There was barely ever anything good to watch, or listen to, and she ran out of stories ages ago. Which was why her ears perked up instantly when she heard something about unknown contacts.

“Al[i]right[/i],” She muttered quietly, getting comfy in her seat and gripping her controls. “Come on, baby.”

The Matryoshka obliged, rumbling to life and into movement with a touch of the controls. She wasn't as fast as the rest, but she didn't have to be. At a couple kilometers out she could still get to the signals in a couple minutes. Speed wasn't her virtue, that was for other people. Sparr’s job was to be the big bitch, the tank to keep her team safe and give as good as she got. And she fucking loved it. 

“Reeeespectfully suggesting you let me take point, Cam.” The heiress commented into her headset, cracking her neck with a grin on her face. “Lil easier for me to take a hit and keep on ticking, if they've come to play. S’my job.”

“What's new, Viv? Anything I should know?”