[b][center][h2][color=magenta]Reya Wyatt[/color][/h2][/center][/b]

There wasn’t much advice Master Sergeant Dalton knew to give or at least that he knew would be expediently helpful. The Colonel had mentioned that her mind worked about as fast as a super computer and often faster than her legs would carry. Further, he would have to keep her focused or she’d think herself into a nervous wreck before they even got halfway to the initial point. Bringing her along had changed his calculus a bit along with the unsaid message that if anything happened to her, he might as well not come back. He agreed with the sentiment and would hold himself to that standard whether it was implied or not. In his infantry career he handled similar missions with more variables. If the mech jocks did their work then he had no doubt the boys could handle the rest. As far as keeping their little guest occupied until showtime, he knew just the thing and it always worked to calm the nerves of the greenhorns. What was unusual was she didn’t seem at all put-off or surprised when he offered the flask. Almost as if she expected it. “[color=SandyBrown]Just enough for the edge,[/color]” He’d said as she winced at the taste. “[color=SandyBrown]Colonel needs your mind sharp and so do we.[/color]” They went over a few protocols and instructions in addition to the briefing he gave the volunteers. Once they moved in and cleared the zone, one of the boys would escort her personally wherever she needed to go and considering her appearance in comparison to most of the Green Knights, there was no shortage of volunteers for escort detail. “[color=SandyBrown]Miss Wyatt is considered VIP,[/color]” He told the squad. “[color=SandyBrown]She gets a scratch, [i]you get a dent.[/i][/color]”

The morning was crisp now, full of mist and a saltwater dew that could be tasted like sweat in the cold air. Dalton watched from atop their lead APC along with the rest of the convoy parked in a small depression among the rolling hills. Through his binoculars he watched the mech lance moving in along with the Von Luckner, feeling the dull thud of their steps through the armor of the machine beneath him. He let out a huff of amusement and shook his head at their banter before glancing down at one of his men getting a read for the wind with a wisp of fieldgrass. [i]Weather moving in.[/i] He thought to himself, same as the Colonel had said, maybe even ahead a bit. He needed it to hold off a little longer. A deluge didn’t lend well to a firefight, particular when they had an extra head to look after. “[color=SandyBrown]How we lookin over there, Miss Reya?[/color]” She was sitting behind him, indian-style, on top of the APC behind a large mobile sensor pack that folded apart like a suitcase.  

“[color=magenta]We should a get a call from the Colonel anytime now to-[/color]”  [url=https://i.ibb.co/HN5kPkK/RDT-20220616-00411716871459991099469.jpg]Reya[/url] answered, finding herself interrupted by Colonel Wayne’s voice over the comm. 

[i]"[color=Olive]Activate the ECM and begin your approach. Good hunting and godspeed, Green Knights. The operation is a go.[/color]"[/i]

“[color=magenta]...to start.[/color]”

Hearing the sound of the Colonel’s voice, the rest of the Buckshot Boys finished off an energy drink or a cigarette as they knew Dalton’s orders were forthcoming. 

There was a brief moment as the mech lance and the tank checked in with Ingrid and Reya looked over the top of the display in front of her in the distance, scantly able to make out anything clearly. She breathed in through her nose slowly. Another swig from that flask wouldn’t hurt. She could feel the tension growing in the air, like she was going on stage for some grand performance and her turn in the spotlight was fast approaching, unavoidable. The small arrows representing the Green Knights moved over the topographical sensor display in front of her eyes: Ingrid, Ziska, Marit, Raven, Aroxty and his crew, Tarak… A fleeting thought blinked through her mind about his antics and his stupid mix tape. He had brought her a gift, which meant [i]he was thinking about her[/i]. 

The screen froze and the image pixelated a fraction as Ziska made the call on the initial point. 

Reya tapped a few keys rapidly as her attention snapped back to reality and glanced up at Sergeant Dalton. “[color=magenta]It’s working.[/color]” 

Dalton nodded affirmatively and tapped a finger on his forehead firmly back at her. The sign to stay focused. “[color=SandyBrown]Put the drone up and get over there with Charlie and Delta.[/color]” He looked down to see the squads already moving in anticipation of his order. Solid men, moving like a team without a word of instruction. He felt a good bit of satisfaction, but still barked at them like they were new recruits. They’d have felt let-down if he didn’t: “[color=SandyBrown]The rest of you slags, get it crankin! We got work to do![/color]” He pointed skyward and moved his hand in a circular motion.

Among the tools and hardware she managed to throw onboard a transport when the Green Knights bailed out of Balya Gora was a small drone. Not that she thought it would be particularly useful at the time, but because it just happened to be close when they were making their mad dash to get away from the city. It was not of any military issue or brand and she’d only bought it as something useful to check out salvage when they were in the field. It had a few camera modes, one of which was thermal- something Dalton found [i]very[/i] appealing. She closed up the sensor pack with a heavy thud and opened the much smaller case next to her containing the drone. A few quick taps on the controller tablet caused it to raise up with an excited whir from its tiny rotors. Reya let out a small sigh as she watched it jump up and hover overhead obediently. It was bright orange and red, not even close to designed for what they were going to use it for, but if it helped that was good enough. She hoped everyone was too busy to notice it, though it wouldn’t be the end of the world if it got destroyed. She’d lost much more important things in the last few days.   

Dalton watched her scurry away to the second APC as the engines came to life once again. He glanced up as the small drone started to follow her like a pet before he synced his own wrist computer with it causing it to turn around and come back to him. As long as one of them kept line of sight with it, it would follow and obey commands, she explained. However under the Raven’s jamming, it wouldn’t find it’s way back home and would likely wander off if a direct signal was broken for very long. His controls would have priority until they were ready for her to come outside the APC. 

Everything was set for his command when it was their time to take the stage.