The engineer was either too busy to care or simply took the Lieutenant's word for granted. It worked to his favor that he'd spent a great deal of time with the MS-18 tinkering with it in the miserable emptiness that followed the exodus from the Delaz Fleet. Warriors without purpose were lost like carpenters without wood. The engineers flitted about mostly just trying to keep the suits and ships in working condition. Without battle they, like the warriors that piloted them, seemed to atrophy and wither from their glory. The lieutenant took his Kämpfer out for drills and routines but it did little to satiate the spirit within the machine.<br/><br/>The catapult erupted to life and suddenly Viktor felt as though a massive hand was pushing him into the worn cushioned seat. It felt better than any bed he had ever been in. As the catapult slung the Kämpfer into the blackness glimmering stars in the distance came into view and a smile crossed Viktor's face. It was a beautiful view and one that Earthlings couldn't understand and a lot of Spacenoids couldn't appreciate. There was a certain nostalgia in the way that space looked through a mobile suit's display.<br/><br/>Other ships mainly commercial in origin darted around Axis and for a brief moments memories of Zeon warships flitting about Solomon came into view. He was younger then and wasn't even a mobile suit pilot. However being aboard a Musai and looking out the windows the ship carried and watching the formations of suits and warships flying about was just too much for the young man who dreamed of piloting one of them. He had no idea that he'd be thrown into battle with pilots ten years younger than him with just as much experience which didn't mean much. It was a massacre of strong promising young men and suddenly reality came back as a patrol squadron of Rick Dom model lls came into view as their thrusters obscured the view of space beyond and just like that they were gone leaving Viktor to his thoughts again. All he could think about was how right this felt.<br/><br/>"I'm going to die in this chair. . . I'll die the death of a warrior the way those honored souls of Zeon died!"<br/><br/>He slammed the accelerator down and was forced back into the seat as the 18E tore through the blackness towards the off side of Axis where the hangar of the Abyssal Fury and the promise of burning Zeon pride awaited him. The mobile suit twisted and contorted as the smaller vernier thrusters engaged popping small bits of propellant working through the paces of practice. The Axis's hangar came into view and the Kämpfer neared the distinguished Gwazine warship bringing a light glaze over Viktor's eyes. It was a sleek knife that would cut through space and strike hard and true against the Titans and their puppets and Romav knew immediately that his destiny was aboard that ship and purpose filled him.<br/><br/>"Gwazine Abyssal Fury! Lieutenant Viktor Romav requesting permission to come aboard."