[center][color=lightblue][h2]Ingram Feng[/h2][/color][/center][hr]

Despite the choppiness of the ride over here, Ingram found himself right at home in the middle of all the chaos, a point of calm in an otherwise turbulent storm. He sat on the lip of his frame's open cockpit, idly watching the people below him scramble across the rumbling hangar floor like a colony of ants preparing for war- which wasn't too far off what was actually happening. A flask of something strong dangled loosely in one hand as the other gripped a fat cigar- rolled with a blended cocktail of tobacco and medicinal drugs, meant to keep his body from rejecting the extensive cybernetic augmentation that took up the left side of his body. His body seemingly absorbed the shock of the Crawler hitting the sandbar without so much as a reactionary jump, idly puffing away at his cigar- his own pre-op ritual to keep things in check. 

This massive mobile base was to be their new home for the foreseeable future, a far call from the caravan of camo-net covered supply trucks and light vehicles he had been used to. It was armored, air tight, and seemingly amphibious, and about as secure as any fortress on wheels could be. Ingram had half a thought to wonder where tech like this came from- it certainly might've put a stop to the Empire from invading his home. Ingram snorted as he caught himself, [i]home[/i]. Technically he was a Ruzi, born and bred, despite having given up the Ruziyane colors for Gyrland more than a decade ago now. It didn't stop some of the Vinlanders here from looking at him like a turncoat, at least most of the Gyrland crew treated him more or less like one of their own. 

Ingram's thoughts paused as he glanced down at a communicator on the floor of the cockpit, steadily lighting up with a stream of constant updates from his daughter. Especially with the hangar this busy, Ingram had banned Amanda from coming into it, for fear of her being crushed underfoot by one of the mechs or crates as people ran back and forth. Instead, Amanda made herself useful in the medbay, aiding in the meticulously counting and taking their supplies from the relative safety of an office. Though it didn't stop her from sending a string of messages to her father in the meanwhile. Ingram idly touched the golden band on his ring finger, was it foolish to bring Amanda with him on the Crawler? It was possible they all died here, and the thought of the machine being her tomb wasn't a thought that Ingram enjoyed, but not for nothing, Ingram still didn't exactly trust the Vinlanders, and certainly not enough to leave his daughter in their care while he fought a war for them.

Looking up as Commander Kaas' voice cut through the din, Ingram nodded, as he shifted from the lip of the open cockpit of the Ogre and back into the saddle, slamming a button on the side to seal himself within the dark cocoon. The interior of the machine lit up shortly afterwards as it began powering up, the walls of the cockpit lighting up as they began to display his surroundings. The Ogre was not a revolutionary machine by any stretch of the imagination, nor was it designed to be. The Ogre was rugged, tough and ugly, meant to replace both the Homeguard Gryphon and Werewolf once production was fully online. Ingram was just the first among those to test the frame in battle. Settling in his seat, Ingram buckled in and pulled on his helmet, opening the visor just long enough to stick his cigar inbetween his lips.

[color=cyan]
[b]> Confirming Pilot Assignment: Ingram Feng_
> ...Pilot Confirmed
> Initializing systems...

> Reactor Unit: Online_
> Targeting Systems: Online_
> Weapon Systems: Online_

> All Calibrations Complete_
> All Systems Nominal_
> Standby for Launch[/b][/color]

[color=lightblue]"This is Feng."[/color] Ingram reported across the squadwide comm between puffs of his cigar, his voice a unique gravelly mix of Gyrland and Ruzi accents, [color=lightblue]"Green, green, green, Ogre is ready."[/color] 

Ingram listened to the chatter as the Commander publicly dressed down one of the pilots- Royce, one of their younger pilots, and green as grass, not that anyone else here were really veteran pilots- some smattering of experience between the lot of them. For ingram's part, most of his experience in warfare was on foot as well, though one might argue that infantry tactics would work okay for Frames too, just on a larger scale.

[color=lightblue]"Sleep is a luxury in guerrilla operations."[/color] Ingram commented, speaking from personal experience, [color=lightblue]"Take it when you can get it."[/color]

[color=lightblue]"Jackson. Cassandra."[/color] Ingram called out through the comms again, [color=lightblue]"Which one of you is Cardinal 'One' and which one is 'Two'? Need to make sure I'm calling the right one when we make contact."[/color]