A Kingdom of Iron Oxide

[Reeves]

The tan skinned and greying Kestrel pilot opened his mouth as if to speak, but closed it with a toothy grin when he heard a familiar noise overhead. A whistling rumble backed by the quintessential growl of fighter propulsion, but dialed up to an extent that suggested overcharged engines were involved.

Engine exhaust momentarily blasted vacant sections of the landing zone as the previously speeding white and red silhouette came to a firm stop. Grav-locks kicked into gear and what seemed like a militarized pit-crew all moved into rehearsed positions all around the ship. The pilot that hopped down and strode out across the deck floor was dressed in an uncharacteristic white, black, and partly gold flight-suit. This piece of kit on open display did little to dispel the oddities, that being the resemblance of training and cutting edge gear.

A brisk removal of the helmet revealed that this was indeed the man who had summoned Attu here, and once in range to speak, he did just that. "Heikinnen." His right arm shot up to offer a firm handshake purely for formality, while the left kept his helmet secured. Coattails that hung a short distance from the waist of the suit swayed with every passing gust from the ventilation systems at varying points around them. Perhaps the only saving grace about the choice of venue. Though this did nothing to currently alleviate the visibly sweaty pilot that had previously identified as the Commander.

"Pardon my tardiness. I was on an impromptu rescue operation. Walk with me please, we can talk on the way to my office here." He seemed to dwell on the latter half of this sentence for a moment, as if suddenly reconsidering. "Actually the messhall might be more appropriate. Have you eaten?" It seemed like sincere politeness, punctuated by a casual attitude that made the situation feel manageable and possibly not as daunting as first conceived.