[color=lightgreen]"Rookie over there is your new wingman Mcknight. So I'd say it is in your best interest to get her to like you."[/color]

[color=lightblue]"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"[/color] McKnight replied coolly as they watched the others interact with the rookie. 

Wes was, of course, as abrasive as always, and his usual mockery of an introduction was met with some light hearted chuckling and joshing. A couple quips from some of the sassier members such as Maki followed before the rest of the squadron began introducing themselves to the rookie. Despite their team's relative apprehension towards the new-blood, most if not all of the pilots were at least cordial with the new girl. Though Sterling did notice Astelion huff and slouch away shortly after Wes introduced him. 

Sterling couldn't help but wonder- how smart was it to take on such a raw recruit. It was the general consensus that no one wanted to babysit, but the other issue was whether or not Williams was actually ready for the 7th Squadron. The 5th fleet had been pulling nothing but bad assignments for he past year. Sure, Williams looked good on paper, but after all that they had been through, Sterling had the sinking feeling that the brass had just signed the young girl up for a death sentence. Sterling gave a deep sigh. Whether or not they liked her, the 101st always took care of their own. The other pilots would likely die for her- just as they would expect her to do for them. Sterling just hoped she wouldn't take to many of the other pilots with her if she kicked the bucket.

Seemingly noticing his deep thoughts, Sara leaned her head back over, her light pink hair dangling as she looked at him upside down. A small hand held out a flask- a small silver one. It was Gerard's. Sara winked at him and lightly tossed it to him, the older pilot catching it lightly. It was more likely than not that Gerard had failed to notice the small girl swiping it out of his pocket- or hands for that matter. For someone who really liked to lay on the trigger in combat, Sara had a surprisingly light touch. Examining the silver flask in his hand, Sterling deftly opened it and took a small sip from it before he closed the cap, savoring the sweet liquid as it trickled down his throat. He watched Trapp as he moved forward to disperse the pilots that had begun crowding around the rookie.

Sterling listened as Trapp gave Williams her welcome shpeel, as well as her induction speech- as was custom, granted it had been abbreviated and shortened in the interest of time. Williams responded with a sound off with the enthusiasm expected of a fresh pilot- or a pilot stuck in a parade formation. After that she began to talk at length about herself, how she was no hero, but would pull her own weight, along with a bunch of other meaningless nothings. Walking up, pausing only to press Delacroix's flask back into his hands, Sterling had barely let the recruit finish speaking before he made waving motions of his own with his arms. 

[color=Lightblue]"That's enough talking,"[/color] he said aloud, [color=lightblue]"Alright everybody back to work, we don't get paid to talk."[/color]

[color=red]"Hah,[/color] laughed Sokolov in his heavy accent, [color=red]"They barely pay us at all!"[/color]

Ignoring Sokolov, Sterling continued, [color=Lightblue]"If you look above you, you can see our dear Captain making her rounds, and you know what that means."[/color] 

A general groan started within the hanger, which Sterling's voice quickly cut through. [color=lightblue]"Combat inspection! Make sure those power cores are full of juice, and make your tallies nice and prominent."[/color] he continued, referring to several pilots' habits of scratching tallies onto their machines to designate the number of kills they had achieved. 

[color=Lightblue]"Rook,"[/color] Sterling called, signalling Williams, [color=lightblue]"Follow me."[/color]

Sterling led Williams through the hanger bay, the bright industrial lights, almost blindingly white, illuminating the towering bodies of a dozen MAS's that stood in their own little nooks, sparks flying as engineers made last minute adjustments to the various machines. The MAS bay was in a different section of the hangar- as they required entirely different engineering crews and machinery. Each of these 30 foot tall robots were their own marvel of engineering. Unlike a typical MAS bay, where one would expect to see a dozen or so of the same standard Sentry, almost every single machine in the Lincoln's hangar bay was unique. 101st Legion pilots were well known for their individuality, almost every pilot customized their machines. Where the standard issue MAS pilots- [i]Regulars[/i] as the 101st liked to call them, were as interchangeable as the mass produced units they piloted, 101st pilots almost always had their own personal machine, which they always heavily customized. Whether the customization were mostly aesthetic, like Sara's pink Sparrow, or involved aftermarket parts and upgrades, like Sterling's Shrike, most, if not all MAS's were different from each other.

Stopping in front of a thin, white machine, with large, booster looking units on its shoulders, set with bright orange capacitors. It had a very sharp, angular body, seemingly designed for aerodynamics and speed. While the unit itself held no weapons like most of the other machines in the hangar, the three-barreled gun mounted on its arm suggested that it was far from defenseless. 

[color=Lightblue]"This one is yours Rook."[/color] Sterling said, gesturing towards the machine. [color=lightblue]"This is a FTX-003 Sparrow MkIII Type-B. I'm sure you've probably had Sim time with the Type-A, the Type-B works in a similar manner- We call this specific unit, the Astelion. I-"[/color]

[color=OrangeRed]"Wait, WHAT?!"[/color] interrupted a particularly upset looking pilot. It was Eric. [color=OrangeRed]"Why the fuck is [i]THIS[/i] little runt flying [i]THAT[/i] machine?!"[/color]

To say the other Astelion twin was angry was an understatement. The man was fuming- one could almost imagine seeing the steam spew out of his ears.

[color=Lightblue]"Not your call Eric,"[/color] Sterling replied coolly, [color=Lightblue]"Take it up with Trapp."[/color]

[color=OrangeRed]"Fuck Trapp."[/color] Eric growled in a low voice. Stepping forward, Eric got right into Williams' face, the taller pilot staring the recruit down. [color=OrangeRed]"You listen here, [i]Replacement[/i]."[/color] he growled in a withering voice. [color=OrangeRed]"Just because you have that patch on your shoulder, doesn't make you one of us."[/color]

This time Sterling stepped forward, his shoulder pressing against the other veteran's shoulder. The two veterans stood locked in place, Eric unwilling to be pushed back. Eric continued glaring at Williams, Sterling looked straight ahead.

[color=lightblue]"You're out of line, Astelion."[/color] Sterling said in a low voice. [color=lightblue]"Stand down."[/color] 

Eric didn't budge. The glowering pilot continued to project his anger at the new recruit.

[color=Lightblue]"Now!"[/color] Sterling barked, his voice echoing across the hangar. Eric glared at Williams for another moment before he slowly took a step back. Shoving his hands in his pockets he grumpily walked away, back to his own machine.

Turning back to Ariana, Sterling sighed. [color=Lightblue]"Anyway, this here's the Astelion. You'll be flying with me for a little while, so let me know if you need anything specific. The engineering crew can answer any other questions you have regarding the machine, or, well anything really."[/color] With everything in place, Sterling began to walk away.

Pausing for a moment, McKnight turned around. [color=Lightblue]"And Williams?"[/color] he sighed, [color=Lightblue]"Don't fuck up."[/color]

With that, Sterling walked back to his own machine.