The Bullhead's dual VTOL engines roared as the transport approached the beleaguered town of Vasim.  The vehicle, an aerial transport painted in the colors of the local Emergency Center, was high in the air, higher than most Grimm could reach - for the moment, anyway.  Being primarily a transport, it was not equipped with the chin-mounted gun that military variants of the Bullhead were known to have, and it relied on its speed and maneuverability to get away from danger.

That, and the Hunters and Huntresses it usually carried directly into the fray.

"ETA, two minutes!" called out the co-pilot from the cockpit, her voice miraculously loud enough to be heard over the din of the engines.  "Make sure you've got your landing strategy ready, 'cause we are goin' in [i]hot[/i]!"

Slater Skywise checked his weapons one last time.  Rampart Spur, his twin tonfa/revolvers, had seen better days, all nicked and scarred from heaven knew how many blows.  But they were clean and still fired true, and they were loaded up with a full set of magnum Stone Dust rounds for an extra kick.  He confidently clicked the revolvers shut and holstered them for this brief moment before drop, and he got up from his seat to hold onto one of the overhead grips near one of the side hatches of the Bullhead.

As soon as the word that Vasim was under attack had gotten out, all nearby Hunters and Huntresses had been asked to provide immediate support.  Those that had been near the Emergency Center closest to the village had boarded one of their Bullheads, which came at all speed to Vasim.  There hadn't been very much time to gather, so Slater was one of the few who had managed to get there in time for liftoff.  It sounded like the devastation was bad...very bad.

[i]If only I'd been there to protect them,[/i] he thought to himself, tightening his fingerless gloved grip.  The knowledge that he likely would have been slaughtered as well didn't matter; if he could have saved even one person's life, he would rather have done that than hear about this tragedy without lifting a finger.  Perhaps he could at least attempt to save any survivors...

"Doors opening in five!" broke in the voice of the co-pilot, who held up a hand with splayed fingers that dropped as the countdown continued.  "Four, three, two, one...go, go, go!"

The hatch slid open, leaving a wall-sized opening where a door had been before.  The wind tore at Slater's clothes along with some residual dust - the normal kind, not the capital-D sort - and in a glance, he saw the village below, the Grimm swarming, and the handful of Hunters and Huntresses who had already arrived on the scene.  Not to mention all of the dead bodies...

Slater's slow-burning anger focused into action as he dropped forward out of the transport, the wind whipping at his duster and skunk tail.  He plummeted downward, well aware that landing from this height would be too much for his Aura alone to handle, and his weapons - heavy pistols that they were - wouldn't be able to provide all of the thrust he would need to counter his fall.  He drew Rampart Spur in both hands in revolver configuration, and crossed his arms in front of himself as he dropped toward the Nevermore that flew above the battlefield.  Oh, he had his landing strategy ready, all right.

He aimed himself at the Nevermore and concentrated for a moment.  His Aura blazed with golden orange light, and suddenly he had his Shield deployed directly below him.  If his aim was true, he'd hit like a meteor and bring the Nevermore to the ground, where it could be easily dispatched by the other Hunters; even winging it might throw it off balance enough to prevent its attacks on his comrades below.  But even if he missed and headed straight for the ground, his Shield would protect him from the fall and provide a shockwave that might at least slow the Grimm down before he joined his comrades in the fighting...

"Heads up!" he shouted, his words mostly lost to the whipping wind as he charged downward, Shield-first.