Metal Militia

[Shulsky]

The first passengers to disembark the No Time for Decompression, that once-Kestrel that somehow succeeded, were not dressed ‘as the usual ones might’. A heavy armored gauntlet grasped the exterior hull door as the shape engulfed the entirety of that space, moving strangely spry despite the bulk. Another similar suit followed, heavy personal mining rigs that had been refitted towards Bristol uses. Heavy toolboxes hung from their belts, all magnetic clamps, though the arm-mounted laser system still remained. Their helmets were down, hard clamshell with a number of sensors mounted, and they paused for a brief moment.

Three more followed, in the slimmer suits favored by Edge Worlders. Blake hadn’t quite enjoyed the ride, not by any means; the Kestrel wouldn’t have passed any seven inspections in a year from the Liberty Navy, judging by the whole of it, and she’d felt the same way biologically too. Nevertheless, the medication for such things - which had, as she’d once understood it, been given to high-g pilots - had kept her stomach relatively solid. Relatively. At the very least she wasn’t green around the face.

She looked around. The hangar itself looked fairly pedestrian, albeit with the addition of a number of men and women in older military gear with weapons that…well, that wouldn’t look out of place in Toronto, but then the Liberty military didn’t change its guns that often after all. The small arms weren’t all Libertonian though. Blake could see a few other makes and models, some modified out of the Sigmas maybe, some out of Bretonia, all older and likely not willingly donated to the cause. Otherwise though, the hangars looked fairly normal. The ships on the other hand…well, she wouldn’t quite give them too much grief. Blake looked around again.

Surely that man hadn’t gotten himself busy right before their arrival.

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Operation Have Sea