Farid's landing was almost screwed up. It took three attempts before he landed; the first one was abandoned because he approached at too high of an angle, the second attempt failed to catch any of the arresting wires as the runway unexpectedly moved down due to the tides, and the third caught the last arresting wire. Although it was far from good, at least he could take the pride of being the first Indonesian pilot to land an aircraft on a carrier, and he was quite happy about it.

As the squadron were basically introduced to the seemingly unearthly object they had just landed on and its insides, Farid allotted himself extra amount of effort on memorizing the layout of the place. To keep looking at his tablet for directions when his first sortie order on the carrier came up was the last thing he wanted. Only after he was sure he had memorized the place did he notice that the rest of the squadron were already having little conversations. He then stood on the squadron leader's opposite side of the table, not having intentions to sit down unless someone asked him to. "Has anyone got an update on the world news? I mean, as seen by civilians across the world?" he asked the rest of the squadron, who are still by many ways strangers relative to him. That question, in the middle of an ongoing war like this, had been the new 'how is the weather?' question for Farid.