[center][h1]The High Frontier[/h1][/center]

Eloise pushed off from the acceleration couch as Skye unbuckled her straps. Emotions and sensations swirled and tusseled within her; a girlish, almost childlike glee and excitement at the sensation of weightlessness and the incomparable novelty of it, and of being in space, while the stark realisation of how incredibly deadly their surroundings were, how absurdly easy it would be to die, and how vulnerable the fragile metal eggshell of the spacecraft was to anything that might be in their way, or any kind of attack the Ark Angel might throw at them - if it had any such capability. 
Nonetheless, she moved herself to the porthole - or window, she wasn't sure what was appropriate - and looked out. Regardless of anything else, she wasn't going to miss the chance to get a look at the view. It might well be the only chance she'd have, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take it. 
"We're actually in [i]space[/i]," she murmured in that quiet voice of hers, even more hushed with disbelief and awe, as she saw the light of the sun crest around the horizon of Earth below them, squinting at the brightness as the light washed over the world beneath them. She turned away from the view as Skye's voice took over, and she briefed them quickly and succinctly on their next moves. There wasn't much to say, or to question - which seemed almost underwhelming, given the outlandish, fantastical nature of the operation. It was a straightforward op; kill the bad guys, disable their ability to cause chaos. The objective was, ironically, not even that different to any one of a dozen other ops she could imagine. Just this time, it was for all the marbles, and this wasn't a rusty, leaking warehouse in a shitty harbour district with hot and cold running rats. It was a space station.
As Ebrima pointed out the tape idea, she took her turn taping around one arm of her suit, and then passing it on to one of the others as she readied herself, all too aware that the moment was upon them. 
Passing through the cargo door to the bay, she likewise strapped herself into the MMU, the big, bulky backpack locking into place against her back. She kept her eyes focused on the Ark Angel, rather than anything else. It helped to keep her grounded and avoid any sense of vertigo or disorientation to focus on something relatively close by and that seemed stationary compared to their own position. 
There was no last-minute tightening of straps, adjusting of holsters, or checking of weapons - if it wasn't secured or ready at this point, well; it was never going to be. And just getting across to the station was enough to worry about right now. Everything else could come after. 
Skye gave the word, and with that, there was no more time to dither or consider things. With a breath she didn't realise she was holding, she pushed off, floating 'up' toward the silver-sheathed shape of the space station, triggering the MMU's gas jets and following in the wake of the others.