[h3][center] OSDT [i]Jannah[/i][/center][/h3]

Klaxons, sharp and screeching, crashed through Sasha’s thoughts. There was no doubt as to what they meant, and even if there was the order from the Captain carrying over the loudspeakers dispelled it immediately. It was time to sorty. Yatogami left immediately, without a word, but Sasha wasn’t paying him any mind; she was gulping down the last few swallows of her latte, tossing aside the cup, and looking about the hangar. She had an extra step that the others didn’t need to worry about. She needed to find a corner, some kind of obstruction, somewhere they weren’t looking-

“Technician Mackenzie! Why isn’t PT-04 ready for launch?” The harsh tone broke the state of indecision, especially when her chief tech put his hand on his shoulder and gave her a slight push towards the back of the Waverider. When he mouthed ‘go’, out of view of the rest, she got the hint and headed around behind the G-Valkyrie while her tech turned to Joan and gestured to the Judah. “Morning, Father. You should get to your HFV.”

Whatever the chaplain said in response, Sasha didn’t catch. Distance (and HFV armor) muffled it, and the rest was drowned out by the buzz of activity in the hangar. A quick glance confirmed that no one could see her, and then she went into action. Her jacket was unzipped and practically flung aside, followed by her boots and then work pants she wore over her pilot suit. She was thankful, for a brief second, for the relief ditching the outer layers provided; keeping them on over her normal suit had been unbelievably hot. Not that she had the time to think about it. The clothes were bunched up into a ball and tossed aside, somewhere Sasha could retrieve them when she was done, and then she had to contend with one more problem.

How was she going to hide her face? It was a couple of meters to the G-Valk’s cockpit, time during which she would be out in the open. Her mask was in the cockpit already. She didn’t have time to sneak through or get her tech to cover her. She needed to go [i]now[/i]. So what could she use… After a few seconds of desperate searching, she grabbed the first thing that she saw. A hard hat wasn’t perfect, but she was [i]extremely[/i] thankful someone had forgotten to put it away. It was good enough to cover her hair and pull down low over her face. Temporary disguise accomplished, the pilot rushed out from behind the Waverider, all but vaulted up the ladder, and threw the hard hat back out of the HFV before closing the hatch. 

[i]Now[/i] everything was as it should be. She could feel it. Just settling into her chair made all the uncertainties fade away, like slipping into a comfortable set of old clothes. Familiar and [i]right[/i] in a way that can’t quite be described. Her mask went on, the material cool on her face, and a brief clearing of her throat confirmed that the modulator was working. Her helmet twisted on with a soft [i]click[/i], finalizing her preparations. Without the flurry of background thoughts, the dozens of miscellania that so often cluttered up her mind, Sasha could feel her growing enthusiasm. The stakes were high, the odds stacked against them, and she was [i]excited[/i]. Her heart pounded, her blood pumped, adrenaline rushed, and it all came together to heighten every sensation to a profound, razor sharp focus. Every molecule of her being [i]hummed[/i] in synch with the machine around her, her energy swelling in unison with her reactor’s growing output, feeling the feedback from every shifting fin, every swiveling vernier, perceiving the feedback as though the senses were her own. Thew XC|PT-01, no the G-Valkyrie, [i]spoke[/i]. It sang.

And Rising Star could understand every word. 

Systems came online with the flip of a switch, all functions responding appropriately to her light, testing touch. The hangar personnel waved her on, and she taxied towards the launch deck. The G-Valk moved smoothly, the lightest application of its thrusters rolling it into place on the catapult’s tracks. She felt the launcher brace against the Waverider’s rear, the soft thunk of it coming to rest behind her, and saw the status lights appear on her monitor. All red, for now, but that would change in a few charged, anticipatory moments.

“Transferring timing controls to G-Valkyrie.” She recited, protocol coming out in a lower, more commanding voice than Sasha’s own. “All systems green.”

 The air was electric, sending tingles running up her spine. Every iota of her will was focused on this one instant, her last moment of contemplation before joining the fray. She barely heard the acknowledgement from the bridge, the confirmation of control transfer, while she closed her eyes and took a single deep breath. She was fraught with tension, a tension both immeasurably excited and unbearably fearful. It was time to fight for real. It was time to [i]prove[/i] her reputation. It was time to shine.

It had been the merest fraction of a second, but an eager smile graced her obscured features.

“Rising Star,” The words escaped with unbelievable intensity, matched instantly by the release of the catapult sending the G-Valkyrie rocketing out of the [i]Jannah[/i] at incredible speed. She felt the pushback, the force of the acceleration, and her grin only widened. “Launching!”

Gunmetal gray gave way to starry black, and most importantly, to the foes arrayed against her. Thirty units. Twenty eight OS Type 2s, Rooks, and two Mm C44 Bradleys. [i]Those[/i] were a rare sight. The vast majority of them had been destroyed eight years ago, only one hundred and twenty one were estimated to exist by 106 SA. Taking into account how many had been destroyed without the UN’s knowledge… Rare indeed. The Bradley was a close-combat-use HFV, with command variants often equipped with remotely controlled drones. Limited long range capability. High performance unit. With a skilled pilot, those two would be the real problems in terms of one-on-one capability. 

The Rooks were armored ranged units. Tough, but relatively old. They would be lacking for speed in zero-g. Reliant on armor and heavy firepower which, admittedly, was potent enough to knock her own HFV out of the sky. Buuuut… They shouldn’t shoot her down if they couldn’t hit her, now could they?

She made her assessment right out of the gate, and decided that based on how quickly the enemy was closing in, there was no time to lose. The G-Valk fired off a shot from its Beam Shot Launcher, intent on nailing one of the closing Rooks in its torso. Sasha banked left immediately afterwards to clear the airspace for whoever was launching after her, beginning to curve out and around the attacking force with the intent to flank.

“Watch out for the Bradleys.” She said into the comms, making sure they were keyed to the [i]Jannah[/i] team’s frequency. “The Rooks will be slow in space, but they’ll punch a hole right through you if they get the chance.”

“Paper Tiger, ETA?”

[@Letter Bee] [@Plank Sinatra] [@Silvan Haven] [@Onarax] [@Crimmy]