"Well, this is going to be an interesting troupe." Remarked Powers as she shouldered her bag in the briefing room after the briefing was over and her squadmates were beginning to amble out. The opening speeches by her new commanding officers were...conflicting to say the least. On one hand their Liberion commander was like most wing-leaders Emily had met before, although she wondered why a witch of her age was on the frontlines. Modern jet strikers were a bit more flexible in their age-range than the old prop strikers, but still very odd. Meanwhile the Karlslander fit every bit the stereotype with regulations and rules and strictness. No difference from her old foreign director back in Hollywood. That old hag was harsh, but Powers owed her a lot for getting her through the rougher parts of WW-N's filming and dealing with overbearing execs. She had no doubt this Karlslander officer would do the same. (Even if she looked to be the type to get in the way of her snacktimes)

Still, as much as she wanted to take it all in stride, Emily couldn't help but notice a few issues. One was the severe lack of sky witches, usually sky witches outnumbered tank witches, but here it was the other way around. Maybe that would be better explained in the tactical sessions to follow. The second-

"Excuse me, Captain Mitchell?" Emily stood up and walked up to her commanding officer with her bag over one shoulder and the paper listing rooming arrangements in hand. "I'm 2nd Lieutenant Powers, transferred from Liberion Witch Force PR. Are these rooming arrangements correct? Do we really have a boy co-bunking alongside witches? That sounds a bit like a recipe for incidents, especially in close ship quarters, ma'am."