Web’s green eyes looked to Erwin, and then to Nat. A smile, weighted heavily with the reality of the utter defeat he and his comrades had just witnessed, lifted at the corner of his mouth. The expressed relief from his fellow Wargods at his safe return buoyed his spirits, and took the edge off his troubled mind. 

[color=0072bc]“Things would’ve been a lot different if it hadn’t been for you two. Thank [i]you[/i] for giving ‘em hell out there, and getting me out alive.”[/color]

His thanks to Nat and Erwin was punctuated by the continued sounds of rumbling explosions, and the rattle of the [i]Solace[/i] as the ship continued to battle for its survival. It was a sobering backdrop to the exchange of the three pilots. Web noted in the back of his mind that the ship had to make its jump to UEE space soon, or his good fortune during the last engagement wouldn’t amount to anything. 

That thought soured his expression. 

Nat must’ve felt something similar, as she was the first to take up his offer and head for the hangar’s exit. 

Web watched her walk away, noting the woman’s lithe, long frame as her sweat-soaked flight suit moved along with it. The wad of brunette hair held up at the back of her head was plastered irregularly along the nape of her neck, and the slumped edges of tired shoulders gave voice to a profound degree of exhaustion. Altogether, she looked as tired and disheveled as they all did—mentally and physically drained, trying to keep the reality of things at bay. Yet, if there was one person Web could think of that made the aftermath of combat look halfway-decent, it was Natalie Vehrs. 

The sounds of actuators and the whir of electric motors from behind him took Web’s attention away from Nat. Looking over his shoulder, Web saw a pair of MAS support techs working quickly and efficiently to rearm, and run battle-ready diagnostics on Old Crow. Another sobering sight. At any moment the Wargods could be called out again, and even if the jump had taken them clear of immediate danger, the war was still perilously close. 

Turning back to Erwin, he jerked his head in the direction of the hangar exit, and the promise of a little downtime. [color=0072bc]“Let’s go, kid. We need to rearm too.”[/color]

Following in Nat’s wake, Web made his way clear of the loud and stuffy hangar bay, and into the slightly less loud, and slightly less stuffy ‘kitchen’. On his way down the corridor, Web had unzipped the upper portion of his flight suit, and had tied the sleeves of the garment around his waist. The fabric of his black undershirt was completely wet with perspiration, but Web didn’t care. A little comfort was all the man desired.

Seeing that Nat had set out the instant coffee for Erwin to handle, Web knelt to rummage into the back recesses of the pantry. With only a few grunts and breathy curses, Web managed to find what he was looking for. 

When he stood, he held a box of candy bars in his large hands. Ripping off the cardboard top, he tossed one to Nat, and then to Erwin.

[color=0072bc]“Now, these babies aren’t the rationed, synthetic garbage you get in the mess hall. No, my friends, I smuggled these in one of Old Crow’s maintenance hatches when I got transferred from the 42nd. This shit is real Earth chocolate, so don’t just gulp it down.”[/color]

He winked at them both. 

Plopping down across from Nat, Web ribbed open the wrapper of his candy bar. He regarded the chocolate held in his hand for a moment, thinking upon just how absurd it seemed to be eating candy right now. Some would’ve considered it disrespectful to the memories of the recently fallen perhaps, but Web didn’t think of it that way. The Wargods had been through hell, just like the rest of the UEE navy. They did no one any good by basking in the ill-fortune that had befallen them. The living needed to live, and to have something to fight on for. 

In Web’s mind, chocolate was as good a reason as any.