With the intern and the mech suit pilot handling the cargo loading, Vigdis ran back into the ship and strapped back into the service rigging - it looked similar to a parachute harness, allowing the wearer to both work suspended as well as carry a large number of tools, the rigging spreading their weight out over the entire body - and started feeding the crates’ weight into the computer so the maneuver calculations wouldn’t be off. Being in the ship somehow felt safer, perhaps because it wouldn’t be leaving without her, or maybe because she was shielded from the cold wind. “Hey, I want to get out of here as much as anyone else, but launching without clearance can be dangerous. If the airspace isn’t clear, we could end up crashing in a ball of fire and tangled metal.” Vigdis cautioned. She vividly remembered her father showing her ship disaster documentaries as a kid and explaining the causes, lessons learned and why such a thing couldn’t happen to him and she needn’t worry. Ignoring the ATC was something no software patch or design feature could prevent.

“The fighting’s not here yet, but it sure feels like it’s right around the corner.” Vigdis replied unhelpfully to the captain’s inquiry, “If we seal up the ship, we might hold out for a few minutes. Could’ve been longer, but someone decided the spaceship needed [i]windows[/i] of all things. So whatever we’re doing, let’s do it fast.” She added as she retrieved a bundle of tie downs and ratchets and started fastening down the boxes wherever the intern and the mech pilot put them. They could be moved to the cargo bay later, when they weren’t in an active combat zone.