Fortunately for Sami, a seasoned pilot took the reins of the Vertibird, allowing Sami to focus his concentration on assisting with navigation and checks mid-flight, as well as fighting the urge to throw up. He succeeded in all tasks, and after a little while he felt much better; his hangovers thankfully had a quick turnover most of the time. He was pretty sure he hadn't seen the pilot before, although he only had a quick glimpse of his gruff face before he covered most of it with a flight helmet. His confidence behind the wheel demonstrated his experience and capabilities, which Sami was all to happy to let the man show off. Lancer Brown wasn't a natural pilot, nor did he feel completely at ease guiding the rotors of a mechanical avian beast. He was much better suited in the garages, tinkering and fixing. Nonetheless he needed to fly as part of his role, and thus he did, when required. But not today, which Sami thanked the heavens for. There was an uneasy silence on board the Vertibird at first. Slowly, it evolved to cautious small talk and murmuring, which then developed into conversations which Sami could hear behind him but not comprehend, the white noise of flight preventing the language from being coherent to the pilots up front. With himself gathered, Sami opened up dialogue with his Captain. [b]"So, how long you been flying?"[/b], he enquired. The pilot was focused, but relaxed enough to turn to face Sami as he responded. [b]"Thirteen fucking years. I've loved it every since the first time. There's nothing quite like the feeling of flying, don't you think?"[/b] Sami grimaced, it was a sentiment he certainly did not share. [b]"Nah. It always feels a bit fragile to me, man. I feel like a crow about to get ganked by a scattergun."[/b] The pilot laughed upon hearing Sami's reply. [b]"Then I think you might be in the wrong job, my friend"[/b], he remarked. Sami didn't exactly disagree. Chuckling, with a hint of morbidity, he replied [b]"Maybe you're right there".[/b] "[b]I'm hoping this'll be my last mission[/b]", the pilot stated, after a moment of silence. [b]"I've got kids back home, you know? A girl who's eight, and a little boy who's four"[/b]. He paused, before taking out a small, square photograph and handing it over to Sami with one hand while flying with the other. [b]"Wanna see?"[/b], he asked, rather rhetorically. Sami took the photograph and inspected it. Within, there were four people. In the centre and sat on a chair was the pilot, with dark, curly hair and his chiseled jaw; Sami had definitely never seen the guy before. On either side of him, sat on his knees, were two young children. The girl had her father's hair, curled and the shade of mahogany, with a button nose and a gleeful smile. The boy had lighter hair, with a gormless expression of a toddler refusing to cooperate with what's expected of subjects of a photo. Stood behind the trio was a woman, presumably the mother, who had fair, rose-gold straight hair and a warm face. A happy family, by all appearances. [b]"That's my wife, Sarah. Cancer took her around 14 months back",[/b] the pilot narrated. Despite the helmet, it was easily noticed that the pilot's joyous demeanor was soured by the mentioning of it. [b]"Shit. I'm sorry"[/b], Sami sympathetically retorted. The pilot kicked himself back to his positive manner. [b]"Yeah well, she'd want me to carry on smiling. I'm trying my best".[/b] Sami passed the photograph back to the pilot, who tucked it back into one of the pockets on his flight suit. "[b]It's Frank, by the way"[/b], he said while outstretching his right hand, rather awkwardly, over to Sami, who shook it in turn. [b]"Sami".[/b] The two pilots chatted for brief moments here and there. It was rare to find someone so positive and friendly, so Sami appreciated the jovial company while he could. Frank was from the Citadel, born and raised, and had met Sarah when she had passed through as part of a caravan selling meat. Sami shared parts of his history two, and the two men bonded over tales of various women they had met and bedded on their travels. ____________________________________________________________________________ Frank was recalling a story about meeting the Lone Wanderer one time, before they were interrupted by blinking lights on the monitors and the sight of a red mist on the horizon. Despite being men of many words, both were astounded and speechless with what they saw. They could do little but frown with mouths agape as the Vertibird severed towards the clouds of crimson before them. Frank cursed as he tried to inform the Paladin of what lied ahead, and attempted to turn the vessel around before they entered the worst of the storm. Before he could do either, a great flash blinded the crew, and a intense feeling of heat emblazoned the cabin as the hull shook and the left rotor suddenly caught on fire. Sami could feel his organs rattle around inside him as the Vertibird shook and jarred in reaction to the gales that gripped the wings. He could hear the tumbling and crashing of hunks of metal behind him, and desparate cries of surprise that quickly faded. Throughout was abhorrent amounts of cursing that pierced through the chaos. Frank finally managed to somewhat stabilise the vehicle momentarily. The respite was brief, however, and the storm threw the Vertibird in a violent manner yet again. The pilot furiously sweared as he managed to guide their rapid descent, leaving the strangely-hued storm above. The landing was not smooth. Despite Frank's efforts, the Vertibird clashed with what remained of a tree on the way down, the jagged branches forcing their way through the glass, the squelch of flesh was audible amongst the acapella of metallic clanking and miscellaneous rattling of both object and persons. Sami hit his head against one of the monitors, his seatbelt doing well to prevent him cascading through the glass and turning into a red paste against a solid wooden trunk. The Vertibird eventually laid still, after a few more twists, turns and drops, and an eerie silence followed after the frantic noise just prior. Sami groaned as he touched the warm rush occuring on his forehead. He checked his fingers and there was indeed some crimson blood dripping off them. Cursing, he began to look at his surroundings. In front of him, there was the trunk of a barren tree, although not barren enough to allow the Vertibird to win in the collision that just occured. It was a miracle that they hadn't been obliterated on landing, the crew had Frank to thank for that, Sami alone wouldn't have been able to manage that situation. To his right sat said pilot, whose moving head indicated that he was alive, which Sami felt great relief to see. However, as he glanced downwards, he gasped, as Frank had violently merged with a sharp part of the tree, which had been strong enough to also pierce the chair Frank was sat on. Sami couldn't find words to express the symphony of emotions and sensations he was feeling right now. He tussled and wrestled with the seatbelt, attempting to get free of the tangle. He felt a tap on his shoulder, which caused him to jump in alarm. He snapped his head to see what had touched him, and sighed in gratitude as he realised it was Senior Scribe Algarín who had perpetrated it. Without the need for words, not that he could find them at the moment, Sami nodded his head and gave a shaky thumbs up to the concerned Scribe. He knew of Owen and recognised his signature dreadlocks instantly when he had arrived before takeoff. Sami believed that the had even flown with Senior Scribe Algarín a couple of times for missions. Sami managed to unbuckle himself from his seat and stumbled after getting up, his legs shaking and his balance unset after the freefall of the crash. He went over to Frank, who still maintained an aura of positivity despite the current situation. Sami clasped the pilot's left hand as he said [b]"You're gonna be alright, man. We'll get you out of here".[/b] Frank could only chuckle as his spat out a mouthfool of blood and rested his head. Sami collected his gear from beside his co-pilots chair, which he had thankfully strapped to the wall. He slung his SMG over his shoulder and checked it was loaded upon witnessing the feral ghouls staggering in the distance, his stomach sinking as he did. He could still feel the warmth of blood tricking on his forehead, but ignored it for now. There were bigger concerns at the moment. He approached the Senior Scribe, who was similarly ready with his weapon unholstered. The crew had somehow halved during the crash. They were a Paladin, two Knights and an Initiate down, which meant that most of the crew's combat capabilities had been flung out of the Vertibird as well as a significant portion of their chances of survival, especially with two score of ferals lurking outside. Only Dr. Kinsley and a female Knight bearing the colours of an Outcast who was unknown to Sami remained, as well as himself, Owen and what was left of Frank. The two women were quickly gathering both their senses and equipment upon Senior Scribe Algarín's proclamation of urgency. It wasn't exactly a crack squad of hardened veterans, but it would have to do for now. "[b]So, what's the play?"[/b], Sami nervously asked to anyone who could take tactical charge. He certainly had no idea what to do.