Reed eyed the craft happily and with a smirk. Grumpy old Johnson just gave him an epic craft... right after yelling at him, which he didn't mind much, he was a bit of a jokester and had a laughing skull bandana he'd wear during the mission. He expected to be yelled at. In the end, Reed took the victory silently, eyeing the craft. [color=gold]"Is it plasma propelled? That would be something else!"[/color] He said enthusiastically, excited to fly the vehicle. He knew that plasma propulsion was a big deal back in the Old World. The lack of guns was a little disappointing, but he supposed the others would enjoy having Gatlings in their hands before they landed. Little confidence boost if anything, and they'd probably be more accurate than he would be while he was piloting.

Gear wise, Reed enjoyed himself. He went with his SM8 and H-8, which he had specifically modified for him and which he had brought with him. Reed was an expert with those guns as those were the only guns he ever trained with, ever. He was a pilot, he didn't have to worry about knowing how to use all the other guns. Just the two that [u]might[/u] keep him alive until rescue if he crashed. He would use his flight helmet and his field helmet, as well as a ballistic weave forest Multicam BDU with a MultiCam plate carrier. They would both be good at absorbing teeth and claws and blending in, so to speak. Last was the standard survival pack, with all of its goodies. After a shower, he was ready to do.