[center][h3]Near Colony 27, Side 6.[/h3][sup]21st of February, UC0088 - Aboard the [i]Hawthorne[/i][/sup]

[img]http://i.imgur.com/boGcVUp.png[/img][/center]

From the outside, elegantly floating through loosely decorated space, the Antietam-class auxiliary carrier very poorly depicts the day-to-day life, hustle and bustle of the crew on board. Enlisted crewmen jog about the ship and eagerly chip away at their daily duties, running about daily inspection and maintenance and chasing down Petty Officer's to show them a data-pad with another days worth of readouts. In the two large hangar bays, various rugged crewmen and women - complete with rolled sleeves and shirts tied around their waist in favor of tank tops - eagerly go about maintaining and regulating the various mobile suits, floating about the zero-gravity environment in the hangars. A small number of crew on break are gathered in the hangar corners around eskys filled with water, sandwiches and even a few beers to celebrate the days end. Crewmen still in their bunks, having yet to start their duties, laugh and share photographs of their family whilst crewmen in the galley put down their meals and catch up on the latest gossip - who likes who on board, who the best pilots are, who's next to be promoted; all the while, just like the crew in the galley, Captain Hishakawa hosts his daily meeting with the various lieutenants and chiefs of the ship to bring everyone up to date on current events and the orders for the day over a nice lunch and a bottle of UC0024-vintage French-made Champagne.

As if in a different world to the rest of the ship, The air on the bridge is tense with the ensign's eagerly monitoring their screens and facilities. The silence is eventually broken. "Uh, Commander?" pipes up the sensors ensign with an apprehensive glare towards her screen, "Colony 27 was meant to be unfinished and abandoned, right..?" Commander Luke Teth - a man in his late twenties to early thirties with a light complexion, short dark hair, dark eyes and vague black bags under his eyes, and the executive officer to boot - glances over towards the sensors ensign with vague concern in his expression. 
"Yes it is, Ensign Olla." answers Commander Teth, "What have you got?"
"You should see this yourself, Commander..." responds the senors ensign - a young girl with a dark complexion, dark eyes and dark hair tied back into a loose bun - as she wheels her chair aside. Taking his queue, Commander Teth stands up from the Captains chair and steps over towards the sensors terminal to look over it critically. His gaze lingers for a moment, his eyes coming to narrow, before he turns to step away.
"Get me a visual, sensors - and communications, get the Captain in here." he orders as he stands in front of the Captains chair, hands folded neatly behind his back and now with a sense of urgency in his expression. 

[hr]

The PA system across the ship abruptly crackles to life.
"All hands, all hands: report to your battle stations immediately, report to your battle stations immediately." comes a familiar voice, namely that of Commander Luke Teth. The lighthearted, solid-days-work atmosphere of the ship is immediately shattered. Petty Officers begin shouting and hollering as enlisted crew sprint to their battle stations, some of the more inexperienced even fumbling in the panic to be quickly yanked back to reality by the veterans. All hands in the hangars, resting or not, rush out to the aid of their Petty Officer's - an esky is spilled and scattered across the corner where it is simply left in the rush. The cockpits are quickly opened for preemptively for the pilots arrivals, where they then turn with anticipation towards the door, waiting for them to arrive.

Captain Hishakawa's voice comes on the radio:
"Ensign Tanzi, I need you to scramble your squadron on a defensive sortie; we have 12 Titan mobile suits inbound to the ship in attack formation. Can you make it happen?"