Within minutes, Sara's belongings were in her locker, and her EVA Harness was strapped around her chest. It was an annoying, bulky thing that fit over the body in a similar manner to football pads, but considerably more expensive. Essentially a modern-day jetpack, the EVA Harness was meant to allow pilots to move in zero-G situations, such as the vacuum of space outside the safety of their mothership. The EVA Harness mounted a multidirectional mini thruster on the back and shoulders, connected to the legs, and had an inner lining that acted as an airbag when necessary. The Harness provided a pilot with approximately 90 minutes of breathable atmosphere, and was protected by a laminated metal plates that provided pilots with protection near the level of military grade body armor- albiet with an atmosphere. 

Jogging out of the lockers, Sara jogged three steps towards the middle of the hangar before she realized that the ship was still on the ground, and therefore still in gravity. With a slight sigh, Sara made her way to one of the hangar's lifts, where several pilots were beginning to crowd around. Until they got into space, they were stuck using lifts to get to the upper cells of the hangar. Luckily for them, the lifts were built to help move around materials, and had plenty of space for multiple pilots at a time. Unluckily for them, the mechanics were still trying to load ammunition and materials into the fighters, and the pilots were stuck fighting with the crews for space on the lift.

Finally scrambling across the catwalk- her boots clanging heavily against the metal, and sliding herself over the hood of a loading vehicle in her fighter's cell, she gave a quick nod to her crew chief as she went up the ladder, several rungs at a time, and slid herself into her fighter, making her 5 minute ready time by the second on the dot. Unsurprisingly, she was the first in her squadron to be in their fighter- several of the other pilots were stuck in the bottleneck that was one of the fighter lifts. Seeing this, her crew chief took the time to climb up the ladder and rap on the side of her cockpit.

"In a rush Hawkins?" asked the bulky crew chief, with a slight chortle as he peered over his datapad.

"No, why do you ask?" Sara replied with a pant, brushing some hair out of her way, and cradling her helmet in her lap. 

"Anyway, it looks like you guys and the Barracudas pulled the short straw, command wants you guys in the pipe first in case we face enemy contact. To that end, all of the 7th Squadron's T-22s have been outfitted with a magazine of explosive shells, and a spare magazine loading armor-piercing semi-explosive slugs. Thats a whole 60 seconds of uninterrupted fire, Hawkins- don't waste it."

"Copy that," Sara said with a low whistle as she synced her Smart-Vision to her ship's systems, the cannons and ammunition display appearing as if in 3d space between her and her fighter's actual console.

"We're also swapping out the Serpent Missile pods- All T-22s are gonna be outfitted with 6 Trebuchet anti-ship missiles, They'll serve you a lot better than Serpents if shit does hit the fan." 

Sara nodded as the missile indicators also appeared in her Smart-Vision. Settling into her seat, Sara cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders before she slipped on her helmet and sealed herself inside her suit. She had a bit of time left, the ship wouldn't launch until the alert fighters were nestled into the catapults- just in case. Flipping switches inside her cockpit, Sara switched her ship into Standby mode. A modern marvel, the T-22 fighters were among the most agile, and technologically advanced ships in the Navy's arsenal- while nowhere near as robust as the older T-18 Fighters that they trained with, the T-22 was a highly capable, and deadly machine in the right hands.

[color=cyan]
> Confirming Pilot Assignment: Hawkins Sara_
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems...

> Reactor Unit: OK_
> Life Support: OK_ 
> Targeting AI: OK_
> Weapon Systems: OK_

> Calibrations Complete
> All Systems Functional
> Standby
[/color]

As her fighter powered to life, she noticed several biosignatures also popping onto her Smart-Vision, her other squadron members. As their fighters were coming online, the giant arms in the hangar began picking up fighters and transporting them to the catapults. Sara's own crew chief stepped away and slapped the side of her fighter as the arms picked up her fighter with a slight jostle. "Grave Robbers, sound off." Sara called through her comms as her fighter was carried through the hangar.

"Crowley, standing by."
"Simms, standing by."
"Thomas, ready to kick some ass."
"Loch, telling Thomas to shut the hell up."
"Adams, standing by."
"Lin, standing by."

Opening a line with the CAG, Sara reported her squadron clear to go. Moments later, there was a slight thump, as the latches holding the Vitae released, and the ship began its ascent into space. Sara quietly muttered a prayer to herself- it was an Armani thing. They weren't particularly religious by any means, but something about launching a ship for the first time deserved such, to many Armani. Finishing that, she patched her Smart-Vision into the window-feed, and watched their takeoff. Some of the other pilots did the same, others sat in their heavily armed coffins and waited for the order to deploy- if the order came. The Devastators were coming, so they were leaving.