[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180810/293981a12e253e45d4742497ede17392.png[/img][/center][right][hr][color=gray][b]Airfield Ten, British Isles[/b]
Morning[/color][/right][hr][indent]Ludmila always despised being stuck at base.

The stench of smog and other various machinery oils floated through the air like a plague, enveloping the entirety of Airfield Ten. By now, Ludmila had grown used to the smell, but no amount of military service could change her mind that it [i]stunk[/i]. Whilst the battlefield often smelled worse, with a hint of gunpowder adorning the smell of burning corpses, the VK-7 had the ability to regulate the air within her cockpit so that Ludmila was freed from the stench of the war.

Thankfully, it wouldn't be long before Ludmila was away from the gassy scent and piloting once more. The 15th Rangers Squadron was destined to head out to France, and with her Goliath already configured to the drop ship, there was nothing to do but wait. Some of her fellow pilots were busy socializing, though Ludmila was never the sort to be "buddy-buddy." Her fellow copilots were there to fight alongside the Russian, but Ludmila saw them nothing more than competition.

[color=red][b]"Lud-mil-a~,"[/b][/color] A voice chimed from the earpiece that pilots were issued, stirring to life in Ludmila's ear. The tone was obviously playful, like a pair of old friends joking around. [color=red][b]"What do you think of Peltier? Someone who cares enough to introduce themselves over e-mail before you've even met is perfect for you!"[/b][/color]

[color=78D9FF][b]"Peltier?"[/b][/color] Ludmila questioned her AI companion, pondering the name. The Russian gazed upwards, watching a drop ship land before shaking her head. [color=78D9FF][b]"I have no need for such relationships, Mishka. Someone like that is begging for an early grave. They'll only get in my way."[/b][/color]

[color=red][b]"Boo; you're no fun."[/b][/color] Mishka responded in mock disappointment. There was something that her AI enjoyed in teasing Ludmila, but she had yet to bother figuring out what goes on within those ones and zeroes that Mishka could call a head. [color=red][b]"Head's up!"[/b][/color] Mishka called out, alerting Ludmila to an approaching individual.

With the attachment that pilots had to their AI, one would think that most Goliath pilots would've been allowed some peace and quiet. Still, one of her fellow co-pilots was eager to make small talk before their big show deciding if they were a dead man (or woman) or living on to the next day. Ludmila wasn't sure who exactly this man was, but she had a slight feeling that it was Peltier. The Frenchman was the only one in her squadron that Ludmila knew was overly friendly, after all.

[color=Aqua][b]"Hey, uhh... Captain Paterson said we should go on-board, seeing as we have like... fifteen minutes or so. I don't know. Sorry if I'm intruding anything but I was just-"[/b][/color] He spoke, before suddenly freezing up as Ludmila's eyes fell upon him. The pilot awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, chuckling away as he waited for a response from the Russian.

[color=78D9FF][b]"I'm aware,"[/b][/color] Ludmila replied, wondering how much of an idiot her copilot is making himself out to be. Her tone had been distant, contrary to the nervous yet friendly approach coming from the man. [color=78D9FF][b]"Was that all, or was there something else?"[/b][/color][/indent]