Sasha whistled.

It wasn't really a whistle, of course--that would be annoying as shit over the comms and plenty loud within the machine itself. Really it was just kind of breathing in rhythm through her lips, but it had the same effect. In her head, resin'd bows ran themselves across metal cables, mallets beat on percussive strings and wind worked its was through odd shapes. The song always changed, it wasn't important, but the music seemed to help her keep pace with herself and, more importantly, think about something other than hurtling towards the earth in a tin can through gouts of bioacid. How much danger she was in, even under these circumstances, was questionable--the Ulanova had the heaviest shields and armor around, a sturdier than any production battle tank, but the sensation of immobility and inevitability was never a pleasant one for her. As the first group dropped and relayed the AA fire, she breathed the opening bars of her latest fixation--Apotheosis Act 7, D-Minor. As the second group dropped and made ground on schedule, she was working her way through the introduction. And as she was loaded up into the drop bay, eyes closed, the was starting the crescendo as the world gave way around her--

And off they went.

The display on the Ulanova was an impressive thing, coded very carefully to keep it sane and intelligible for an operator. She would have to see if the German boy could get he in touch with his company--it would be excellent from an ergonomic standpoint to integrate the sensory information directly into the mind, though to be fair it would be an awful lot to manage. Still, the system had already linked to a far greater depth with her teammates AWES's than all but the most advanced diagnostic systems allowed. She could see through their mission cameras, track the data from their sensors and integrate it with her own view of the battlefield as it formed. Slight motions of her eyes, lingering attention brought up increased analysis on specific aspects of the situation, including in this case the AA fire. Bioorganic acid, it would do messy things to metal but she doubted its efficacy on shields. Getting through it in tact wouldn't be the problem, but if they got too far off of course...

"Altering course. I've got a better route" She managed, extending a smaller fine-manipulator grasp from the palm of the Ulanova's massive grip to take the controls. As they broke the atmosphere she redoubled her efforts, humming her way into the refrain as she tweaked and altered course for the areas of lowest projected resistance, syncing ground reports with probably coverage spreads based on maximum lethal coverage areas--

A tag, but a small one, a slight ricochet off one of the port panels, but she paid it no mind but for a small correction made with a flick of her fingers. The roar around her, the shaking of the metal, any snarky comments made by her squad-mate... all fell away in focus as she worked them through the soft spots in the cloud of cover and adjusted more aggressively to reset them on course once they were past the bulk of the fire. If her breathing was hard, if the confinement and the heat was beginning to make a bit of sweat bead at her temples, if the ground was racing up to them in ten, nine--reverse thrusters, coming in too hot--eight, seven, six--slowing down, approaching acceptable speeds--four, three, two...

The impact was jarring, to say the least, but the machine took the brunt of it. It's shock padding cushioned the impact, the sheer weight of it and the thickness of its armor preventing any significant damage from occurring. That being said, as the metal props jammed the doors open with enough force to crush the roadwork beneath, she found that the bio-acid had done a bit more damage than she'd thought. "No smoke, there's was some damage done to the chemical chambers." Worse, they'd landed just ahead of the allied fortifications on the central bridge--it was a miracle it hadn't cracked under the impact. Sloppy, she reprimanded herself as she pushed forward immediately, taking the moment to regain momentum. First things first--while she was intensely armored, her squad-mate was not. Best, then, for her to draw their fire and their attention to let the stealth unit slip away unscathed. And with an engage at will order like that...

"Get going, Overwatch 2. Happy hunting." She offered with a smile as she brought the Valentin to bear, the beast of a gun settling into the AWE's massive hands and opening fire even as caustic acid spattered harmlessly on the hex-pattern pulse shield of the Ulanova. 

"Engaging."

As it spun to to life, she would have sworn it kept time for her.