Smog and all kinds of strange emissions caused him to cough whilst he traversed the endless expanses of Airfield Ten, the Commonwealth's main reserve-line deployment zone. Hundreds upon hundreds of deployment craft circled the air and landed, shipping in and out new batches of recruits, veterans and other uniformed personnel. This endless stream kept Robin's eyes and ears all over the place, scanning for any form of news from the deployment zone in his homeland. It was a personal wish to return to the homeland, which was now a battlefield that was ridiculed with war, death and deceit. Whilst the lands of Britain, Capital of the Commonwealth, had treated him kindly for the duration of his extended cadet service and Goliath Training procedures, he still missed the home he was born and bred in, one that had been ridiculed and thrown aside by the invaders from beyond the stars. It was still hard to believe that this was reality, one of violence and death. But now, at least during this day, a small hint of hope glimmered within his head. Robin felt like he could do something that would make a difference. It was a feeling that his trainers had called Pilot's Instinct. It was that instinct that Robin had deep down within his heart at that very moment.
"Peltier, don't be daydreaming now. We got fifteen minutes before our ride sets out." A gruff voice cut him from the daydream he suffered from. It was that of an American accent, one unmistakably recognisable by its prowess and size: Johnathon Paterson, the Captain of the 15th Reconnaissance Squadron. The seemingly battle-hardened figure was placed in charge of Robin's Squadron, though in reality the man hadn't a moment's of experience in combat. Like the frenchman himself, Johnathon was fresh out of training, just like every other member of the Squadron, but had extremely prestigious results from all fields of training. Being the elite member of Robin's wave, his confidence and trust was sky-rocketed once command had made him an official Captain once graduation had come by. It wasn't rare for new pilots to be placed at high positions, especially when leading other rookie soldiers like Robin, as the demand for veterans was always short-handed, and those who'd made a name for themselves out in the field generally didn't want reassignment due to the camaraderie they had forged with their brothers and sisters in arms on the frontline. "Put on your dancing shoes, boy; we have showtime soon."
Beneath his arms, tightly held onto, was his helmet that he would have worn when inside his mechanised unit. Those were optional and somewhat based entirely on whether or not their Goliath was safe enough to operate with a naked head, like the more stabilised version that Robin had. The man was born and bred from America, easily, and had seen his fair share of damage done throughout the ages. He was born just before the invasion had begun and was living in America until the Ukon threat had found its way onto his soil, where the desperate resistance cells held on until Commonwealth rescue parties could reach them. Johnathon was one of those lucky souls to have been plucked by those search teams, and now with his mind aged slightly more than Robin's was he was back to fight another day. He was a real protagonist, sometimes Robin would think, the kind of guy that would take the centre-stage of some of the many heroic tales that were told back home. And being a Goliath Captain, he had all the reason to hold such fame.
Robin shook his head and adjusted his uniform, calmly saluting his superior with ease as he reached out to shake his hand once more. The two were somewhat well rehearsed in their connections, but he wouldn't call him a friend. Robin was far too compassionate towards his fellow teammates that when he was first assigned to the 15th Reconnaissance Squadron each of his squadmates received a message via email introducing himself in a friendly matter. It was something he couldn't resist doing, despite having not seen most of them face to face until the arrival at Airfield Ten. Still, most of those he'd only seen from a short distance and hadn't spoken too yet. He wanted to ensure that before they headed into the fray that he'd at least come out with one close ally, but with time coming to a quick conclusion that didn't seem very possible.
"You gotten your Goliath hooked up to the drop-systems of our ship?"
"Uhh, yes! Yes, Captain. Already done and dusted. You know me, always on call and ready when you need me." Robin stuck a thumb up from a clenched fist and smiled brightly towards his superior, trying to make some sort of fake aura to hide his inner nervousness that he really was experiencing. The Captain seemed to buy it, ruffling his hair and chuckling back at his enthusiasm.
"Fantastic, rookie! When you're ready, load up your shit onto the aircraft and get yourself pumped. It's not that long of a flight, I'm sure you're aware. And hey..." With a patriotic smile and a lacklustre of woe in all his veins, Captain Paterson smiled once more and placed a tight grip onto his shoulder. "We'll stop by one of your hometown's cafes once we're victorious, ey?"
The two shared a laugh of confidence, albeit that Robin's was more nervous and quite pessimistic of what he was told. Sure, Paterson had an amazing way with words for a rookie, especially when it came to rallying and upholding the high morale that the recruits had. Before they were to drop into combat, he'd been keeping them on their toes and ensuring that they were at the highest of moods. With people like Robin, however, it was quite a challenge to get any true emotion out of him. Fears of returning to a wasteland of a home were starting to pound harshly against Robin's chest, the realisation that they were going to witness the first sign of conflict. The Commonwealth wouldn't have lied though when it came to explaining how heroic and amazing fighting was, seeing it as an adventure. However, the look on Marc, his father's, face when they were split apart at a young age in Amiens always made him wonder if the war was really how the media portrayed it.
"Fils de pute..." Cursing his breath in a native tongue, a voice from within his earpiece started to talk in its metallic tone.
"Pilot, your emotional signs are decreasing, what is this distress I am sensing?" And as always, POLO was there to pipe in. It felt odd having him scan his vital signs at all moments, especially when he forgot to cut off their neural link after the previous Goliath test. Their connection was still together, though weak seeing as they were separated from Goliath to Pilot, so radio conversation was needed in this place. "I detect anxiety and signs of distress. Do you wish for me to contact Lisa?"
"POLO, you've known me for a year and a half now, please stop asking if you should open a comm-channel with my Guardian."
"Correction: I have been in your service for one year, six months and thirteen days."
A blank stare of frustration, though somewhat humorously involved, responded to the retort his AI companion had given him. In his own response, he brought back a snarky remark of his own.
"If there weren't any battles coming up I would have factory reset you by now." But in his banterous exchange he shared with the robotic life-form within his Goliath, he noticed something from the corner of his eyes. Having guided her Goliath inside, one of the heavier classes of course, stood awaiting some form of reason to go aboard, stood a fellow wing-man that he only just recognised. She was, in her blonde state of elegance, idly waiting by. If he had to guess, she were either daydreaming about the possibilities of battle or pondering strange conversations with her own AI companion. Either way, Captain Paterson seemingly hadn't let her know of the timing or gone to brief her for some odd reason. She clearly hadn't been told before, or so Robin guessed, and had the potential to look even more like a lemon if left unattended. So, he did what he would have thought to do anyway. She was a comrade, after all, perhaps this was the only shot he'd get of actually acquainting himself with the allies he worked with. And so, waltzing over casually, he stood beside her and spoke in a somewhat quiet tone. "Hey, uhh...Captain Paterson said we should go on-board, seeing as we have like...fifteen minutes or so. I don't know. Sorry if I'm intruding anything but I was just-"
And just like that, he froze his words, stopping himself from droning on unnecessarily when he found that her attention was slightly upon him. If his habits of talking whilst away from combat weren't bad enough, he surely knew that she'd just be angered if he'd continue. Either way, he rubbed the back of his head and gently chuckled, awaiting a response from her.
