No matter how many times Adam gets catapulted out of a ship, he still can't get used to that sudden elephant on his chest. The feeling dissipated as soon he cleared the tube, but he kept a finger on the emergency anti-blackout drug dispenser anyway. There are a number of safeguards to prevent blackouts from occurring, but he seen enough close calls—even for pilots with years of experience—to know those safeguards don’t always work. You never truly know if today was the day your body decides to work against you.

[i]“Keep your eyes peeled, everyone. We know there's something weird going on out here.”[/i] Adam setted his jaw as his eyes flitted between different readouts. He couldn't help but feel on edge from Erien’s last transmission. It wasn't so much what she said but how she said it that made him pay closer attention. He thumbed the transmit button, “Wilco, Lead.”

The trip towards the [i]Claymore[/i] was uneventful, which made Adam restless. He drummed his fingers against the throttle as he scanned the vast nothingness of space. If the circumstances were different, the peacefulness of the void would’ve lulled him to sleep. Instead, he felt like he’s on his fifth shot of espresso.

Every so often, Adam would look out the canopy of his ship for visual confirmation of the [i]Claymore[/i]’s position, along with the two squadmate assigned to defend the ship with him. If he couldn’t see them out the window, he switches over to the rear camera feed. He cycled through this pattern fifteen times before his fighter’s sensors pinged. Adam froze for a sliver of a second before he refocused on the sensor’s display. Before he had a chance to call in, his radio came to life, [i]“We have multiple inbound contacts, unknown origin and intentions.”[/i]

[i]"Olarin, Mallory, Wallon; eyes to the rear. I think they're trying to bushwhack us, over.” [/i]

“Copy that.” Adam kept his eyes trained on the two markers headed towards them on the sensor display. With the distance they’re flying at, visual confirmation is impossible without aid. He frowned at the two markers, unsure if he should be worried or insulted. Were they hoping to bait his squad into leaving their post just for a clear shot at the [i]Claymore[/i]? Whatever the reason, Adam didn’t like it. Barring the suicidally stupid, most enemies don’t engage with inferior numbers unless they had superior firepower. [i]Let’s hope they really are that dumb.[/i]

[i]"All craft, craft are bandits, inbound and hot! Light 'em up!"[/i] Erien’s order came at the same time her fighter started into evasive maneuver. Adam deployed his fighter’s hardpoints as he trained his fighter slowly, keeping the hardpoints facing the hostiles beelining for the [i]Claymore[/i]. With the rest of his squad out there, dealing with the hostiles, Adam found it even more difficult to sit here and wait for the two bogey to get within shooting range. But orders are orders.