Aodha had to resist the almost physical urge to push the<i>Aurora's </i>engines to their maximum draw. However, in light of his previous troubles a week prior, which caused his considerable delay to delivery in the first place, pushing the sensitive mechanisms seemed to be more folly than advantageous; at least while the craft was still plowing through an atmosphere. Once free in the void Aodha would feel considerably better about dumping power into the drives to get him as far away from the Throneworld as quickly as could be managed without sparking into a mini nova in the process. That was, of course, if he could manage to even get into orbit without the lumbering dropships smashing into his own ugly craft. Or, for that matter, so long as the ground emplacements that were still picking off the delicate teardrops cascading towards the surface did not mistake the boxy<i>Aurora </i>for a potential target. She had thick a thick hull, as all human vessels did, but she might as well be made of paper when it came to guns of<i>that </i>size.<br/><br/>Moreover, Aodha had to expect some form of an aerial obstacle as well; after all, one did not spill a deluge of troops to a planet's surface without some kind of support or escort. Acting on that assumption, Aodha kept the<i>Aurora </i>on a steady straight, if somewhat gentle, incline towards space. No erratic jerks for one side or the other or twisting and spinning or any evasive maneuvering whatsoever. Maybe, even, whoever it was that launched the attack on the Sovereign would ignore the<i>Aurora </i>all together thinking her some kind of autonomous resupply vehicle. "Fat chance," Aodha muttered to himself while his fingers skipped across his control console in an effort to make what preparations he could should things turn sour. Primarily, where he could divert power to the engines and in such a manner that did not outright overload them in the process.<br/><br/>Such thoughts were proven false the minute his communicator blinked an active signal and the unmistakably Serilline's voice carried over a second later. He knew little about the politics of the Empire at a high level, didn't pay much attention to human affairs either for the record. Yet, even he could recognize the Asaring Bloodname when it was spoken aloud and the ascendancy such an invocation was meant to impart; doubly so as the fighter would, no doubt, have his ship lined up and ready to be vaporized.<br/><br/>"Aodha McToimilin speaking and captain of the<i>Aurora</i>responding." Aodha responded aloud, finger pressed into the receiver. "No crew, other than myself, and what cargo I had is left down in the processing facility. If there's anything left of the place you're more than welcome to it. I've some crates of toiletries and protein bars in the hold and about half a tank of water." The last were, of course, redundant answers on his part but he couldn't resit throwing out a few verbal barbs when stressed. Hell, maybe the pilot would find it amusing and decide not to turn the<i>Aurora </i>into slag. "Mission, well, I just want to get as far away from this...uh...<i>disagreement </i>as possible. Maybe have a beer or five. Wouldn't happen to have any recommendations would you?"