[center][img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/b3RmLjgwLmE3N2QyZi5VMk52ZEhRZ1RXTkZkbVZrZVEsLC40/swera-demo.bold.png[/img] [img]https://txt-dynamic.static.1001fonts.net/txt/dHRmLjYwLmY0YjAyYS5VM1Z5Wm1GalpTQnZaaUJXWlc1MWN3LCwuMAAA/happy-times-at-the-ikob.italic.png[/img][/center] Scott sat in silence as they descended into the corrosive atmosphere of Venus, prepping his Mobile Suit for the hazardous environment. Being in a moving ship, even seated in a mobile suit, was a familiar feeling. Thoughts began creeping to the forefront of his mind, and he couldn't help but wonder about the plan unfolding in front of him. He found himself following Cathrida Stoker, the one woman most responsible for the limping state of Zern's leadership, thought dead after her disappearance in the wake of Zern's retribution. His mind spun, thinking of the possibilities made his heart race. Even as a Mekon rebel, his future had been a narrow path: bleed Zern with a thousand cuts, eventually dying in battle. [i][color=D1A060]From here onwards, my actions will have consequences greater than ever before.[/color][/i] The thought sent a chill down his spine. The mining ship landed, and the rebel band disembarked. The surface of Venus was more inhospitable than he'd imagined, and he was alarmed at the external temperatures his Mobile Suit was reporting. The Faust kept pace with its new comrades as the massive facility came into view, and Scott could only wonder to himself how anyone could manage to have something like this constructed, let alone [i]maintained[/i] through their apparent death. His eyes rested squarely on the back of the re-painted Redcoat. [i][color=D1A060]What kind of person prepares something like this?[/color][/i]. The lift slowed to a stop and the lights illuminated a ship. It was gargantuan, painted a vibrant red and sported a thrust-to-mass ratio so absurdly high that every crew member would need to be in a crash-couch to avoid killing someone at maximum thrust. He took the momentary silence to look over the [color=DC143C][i]Isandlwana[/i][/color], trying to judge just what this thing had under the hood. Subconsciously he noticed Laika exit her suit, and followed suit. Standing on the unfolded hatch of his Faust, his face shaded within his Vacsuit's helmet, Scott traced the ship's unusual lines, only able to guess at each portion's function from this distance. Captain Cathrida returned sooner than expected, and relayed the bad news. "[color=D1A060]The Zern are on their way, and we are going to need to buy time to get the ship flight-ready.[/color]" Scott turned and looked at the assembled team, then back to Cathrida's Turncoat. Scott reached up to the lower rim of his helmet and switch his extenral speaker on. "[color=D1A060]Exactly how much of the ship's engines are incomplete? If they're properly mounted, that's the grand majority of the work out of the way, and cable checks can be short-changed so long as we have a safe harbor out there.[/color]" The wheels in his head were turning, and a few ideas sprang to mind. "[color=D1A060]If you had help navigating here, can we use that as a trap? An Ambush is preferable to outright warfare.[/color]" Scott's mind spun, forming a short-term plan to get them all out alive. "[color=D1A060]We could also make use of the Isandlwana's reactors as a surprise radio jammer. They certainly won't be expecting something of this size, and without communication, we will have the advantage.[/color]" He was suddenly very glad they'd all scavenged weapons before leaving, because his preference for traveling light would have come back to bite him in a protracted battle like the one looming on the horizon. one last question sat at the back of his mind, nagging at him. "[color=D1A060]Who do we have to actually complete the engines? It's going to be a two-person task minimum. Pilot and Engineer, and I don't think I've ever been at the helm of something with this much thrust versus mass.[/color]"