As his squad congregated around one another sharing war stories and the like, Trapp was a couple of feet away leaning against a wall engrossed in a data pad. He was watching a recording of the last real engagement the squad had taken part in, taking off of a MAS cockpit camera. The videos had composed of most of Trapp's free time in the past month or so. Watching each encounter and each battle mentally making note of how each pilot performed in the heat of battle. Just knowing their personalities and their feelings was not enough he needed to know capabilities. Commanding a MAS squadron was a game of trust. Your team needed to trust you and your commands at a moments notice, but at the same time the commander needled to be able to trust in every member of his squad to do their job. He had watched at least twenty battles worth of carnage at this point as the 7th moved through. Trapp had to hand it to Tori, her team moved like a well oiled machine and the late commander's work made his job a lot easier. What bothered him was the Rookie. He had seen her scores and watched her training videos, but he wondered how she would adapt to outside combat. She seemed so naive, so clean and by the books. Could she pull the trigger when it was needed?

Though Trapp never did get to mull over his thoughts for too long. Somewhere a large explosion rocked Ulysses Station causing the Lincoln to shudder. Trapp was jerked to one side and the datapad that he had in his hands fell to the ground and shattered. Trapp's own curse was muffled under the sound of the sirens as the hanger bay became bathed in red light. Another volley hit the station as Trapp ran back over to his squad, leaving the shattered datapad where it was the red light reflecting across the glass casting beams into the air. At first he thought it was something mudane like an ammunition stockpile going up, but as a calm voice came over the speaker announcing battle stations, Trapp's worse fears were confirmed. 

[B]"BRACE FOR DISMOUNT!"[/B] A voice called through the hanger bay somewhat muffled by the sirens. Trapp grabbed onto a support pillar as the Lincoln rumbled and dislodged itself from the Ulysses, boxes fell over and tools clanked to the ground with metallic clangs adding to the cacophony. While the ship would on most days gracefully disembark today was not one of those days. The boys upstairs most of wanted them out as quickly as possible, probably to engage whatever was trying to kill all of them. Trapp pressed a hand to his ear engaging the communications headset snugly fit into place. He set up a channel to the CIC and spoke with a calm ferocity as his squad looked around expectantly. 

[color=lightgreen]"Yes! This is Commander Trapp of the 7th Mobile Armor Suit Team! I need a status report!"[/color] Trapp explained and moments later a response came hurriedly down the line. [color=lightgreen]"A Coalition fleet? How in hell did somebody not pick them up warping in?! What? No, I understand that isn't your job! I  just need launch permission! I don't care about protocol right now, I need LAUNCH PERMISSION!"[/color] Trapp explained getting more annoyed every moment as it seemed that he was having about much success with the person on the other line as one did with striking up a conversation with a brick wall.

Though soon enough another voice cam into his ear this one belonging to the Captain. He almost let out a little dance over how happy he was to her somebody who can actually give him a status report. He listened intently and nodded to himself adding in an occasional yes and understand to make it clear that he was still there. As she finished her broadcast with a final Godspeed Trapp looked at his squad and took a deep breath. Things were about to get very int resting very quickly and it would prove to be their baptism by fire if they succeeded. [color=lightgreen]"Alright, as most of you have already figured out a Coalition fleet has just arrived. They seem to want to blow us up as is expected from them. Which means I want all of you combat ready in under 3! NOW DOUBLE TIME IT PEOPLE!"[/color]

Trapp yelled over the sirens and the machinery as the engine crew moved to finish loading up any of their MAS. Trapp shimmed up the ladder to the catwalk like he was born doing it. The sounds all washed away from him and was replaced with a dull hum as he sprinted across the catwalk to where his MAS sat. He jumped over the side and into the seat of the Sentry. His hands moved with a flurried frenzy as the buckles were pulled down that would keep him pinned in his seat, he flipped several switches and soon the Sentry's start up screen flickered to life illuminating the cockpit. After finishing its boot, display screens flickered by and Trapp moved his eyes across them as they whizzed by making sure everything was in order. He let out a breath as everything seemed to be in order. He turned his attention in the southern direction as his hand began to tremble again. It always got worse when he entered the cockpit. The doctors side it was something about nerves and the trauma from the accident. They said it would go away in a week or so. It never did and only seemed to get worse. Not that he would tell anyone, it was his damn head and he could keep it in control. Or that was what he told himself. He clenched his fist hard forcing the arm to go rigid and the trembling to slow.

He looked at the status indicators for the rest of his squad. Several little green arrows lit up as their MAS came online and when the last one did he nodded. All in all it took about two minutes, if the 101st trained anything into its people it was efficiency. Trapp pressed another button turning on the interpersonal broadcast system set up for the squad. He let out a breath and focused himself before announcing clear over the radio.
[Color=lightgreen][b]"7th Sound off!"[/b][/color] He waited for the chorus of responses to come back over the radio before speaking again.

[color=lightgreen]"Alright everybody, Guillotine and Brick you guys are going to have some very big bombs. You are going to try and get them to their ships so we can send them back to hell. Alice if for some reason we cannot find a solution, you are to designate the big guns to give em a new one, so stay close to them. Let's try not to have that happen as we will probably not be able to get out of the blast radius in time. Omega, Hatchet and Rabbit you guys stick close to the Lincoln and take out any MAS that come in to try and hit her. Everybody else we are providing close fire support for the Bomb team. Remember people fly or die. "[/color] Trapp explained, his switch over to call signs designating that it was now time for business.