The Kolibri's chassis was gradually dented and scraped by the onslaught of debris, stray rounds and angry Riverdrakes that assaulted it. It wasn't an act of shoddy engineering; simply put, the MAS wasn't built to take sustained firepower. It was designed with the skill of the pilot in mind. Abigail was meant to be evading these blows with her sophisticated radars and electronics that she'd overheated half to hell. Unfortunately the circumstances no longer allowed that - she couldn't dodge anything that might end up striking the princess - and the Kolibri made it well known to it's pilot that each impact was taking a toll on the machine.

For Abigail, the rush back to the Roanoke was starting to look more like an endless trek of increasingly painful ordeals. Each time the Kolibri was hit, she was roughly shoved in her cockpit. Even with the seatbelt on her body was thrown this way and that. She didn't have the time to take her hands off the controls and put her helmet back on; not to mention that trapping her hair under the visor would ruin her visibility. Whacking her head against some sturdy metal or plastic piece in the cockpit was becoming more commonplace than it ought to be. Her mood had soured, her muscles were tensed at all times to try and brace for impacts she didn't know were coming and the sweltering heat sent drips of sweat from her brow into her eyes. 

No wonder, then, that when the Princess gave her one of those compulsory requests, Abigail was too fed up and tired to argue. She kept her Comms switched off and kept the pace consistent. She didn't even have the drive left in her to crack a smile when Ingram swiftly put Aurelia in her place and took control of the issue.

It was only as the Seventh made their way across the clearing and into the lake to board the Roanoke that Abigail started to take stock of her combined injuries and gradually start to realise that she might be a little more roughed up than she thought. Her breath was coming out in ragged, angry huffs. She couldn't tell if it was all the humidity and sweat or her vision blurring. The pain started to kick in - full body, aching throbs. She let loose one low, strained moan in the final stretch.

It wasn't normal for Abigail to have her Comms switched off for this long.

Abigail was second in the hangar bay of the Roanoke, following closely behind Aurelia and the Helmheimr. The Kolibri's pace finally started to flag as she skidded across the bay, a horrible crunching screech emanating from the broken landing strut as its massive metal arms stabilised itself to slow down it's movement. Various engineers and hangar staff were quickly scurrying out of the way as the MAS clumsily clambered to its feet and trudged back to its dock. The huge cables plugged into its charging ports one by one as Abigail powered down the Kolibri at last; a steaming, dented, dishevelled mess of its former condition. The damage was superficial but it was present all over. It would take time to repair.

The Krakono was one of the last. The behemoth stomped into the hangar, soaking up the blasts from coalition weaponry and acting as a shield against the oncoming firepower as the Sparrowhawk zipped in and the doors began to close. Jakunta was much more patient and methodical, entering his bay without issue and powering down the MAS gradually. He stared at his HUD with a frown, tapping a finger on the static-filled square that ought to be Abigail's portrait. His frown deepened when the Kolibri shut down and he tried to call her on her holopad.

[color=lightblue]”Medical to the hangar,”[/color] Ingram echoed across the hangar bay. Abigail squinted up a little in the pitch darkness of her cockpit as she tried to discern who might have been wounded. In gradual increments, she began to unbuckle herself from her seat - completely unaware of the faint regular buzzing noise coming from one of the glued-on storage pouches in her cockpit...

[color=lightblue]”Medical team belay that, all hands brace!”[/color]

"Fuck oooOOFFF-" Abigail groaned as she slammed one foot up against the console, one arm up on the ceiling, shut her eyes and took a deep breath. It wasn't a massive explosion like she thought it would be, but the familiar dropping, lurching feeling of the warp kicking in. As uncomfortable as it was she knew the feeling was short-lived and that it signified their prompt and hasty retreat from the battle. The relief alone was enough to make Abigail sink back into the chair, utterly exhausted. It was at that point she noticed the buzzing noise and blearily fumbled for the holopad, but it stopped ringing before she had a chance to answer. Instead she messaged Ingram.

A_HARLOW: goin to medical
A_HARLOW: lookin like shit
A_HARLOW: sunray might not want to see that

Meanwhile, Jakunta shouldered the hatch open to the Krakono and slid down the ladder, plodding across the hangar towards the Kolibri. He waved off some of the medics ("Not here, not here. We'll go to Medical.") and climbed up to the Kolibri's cockpit where Abigail was gingerly rubbing her temple and trying to compose herself.

KTHOOM KTHOOM KTHOOM. Jakunta slammed his fist against the cockpit.

“Come. Medical awaits.”

Abigail glowered at the metal shell.

After a few more seconds the Kolibri cockpit hissed open. Abigail was in her full EVA suit still, the tinted glass of her helmet showing a distorted reflection of Jakunta's impassive stare. She shot Jakunta a pair of finger guns and followed him down the ladders, similarly brushing past the medical staff as they both wandered back to the elevators for a proper check-up.