The sound of the engines propelling the pelican filled the troop bay, coming out as a calm hum from inside the heavily armored plating of the drop ship. This hum was a soothing, comfortable feeling for Billy, making the troop bay feel somewhat like a home away from home to him. He's ridden in pelicans countless times, and on all of his missions. Once to the battlefield, and once back to base, with the occasional pickup and dropoff between waypoints in the middle of a campaign. It was the only place where he felt safe on the battlefield, even though he was arguably more of a sitting duck in the air than on the ground.<br/><br/>But of course, he's seen his fair share of troubles in the air. He was shot down once in a pelican, and barely made it out alive thanks to the pilot's quick reflexes and keen eye, which managed to steer them into a clearing and away from any potentially deadly obstacles. There was another time when the pilot was sniped by a well aimed beam rifle shot, and his squad was forced to jump out of the pelican while it was still in flight. Hell, there was this one time when he and his squad had to fight off a group of Elites from the troop bay while the pelican was trying to take off. But despite all that, he still considered a pelican as a safe haven of sort, a place where he can let go of his burdens and let someone else worry over the safety of his squad.<br/><br/>Billy fiddled with his M739 while listening to the hum of the engines, making sure everything was fastened and properly attached on his weapon. Like the other members of his squad he was preparing himself for the drop, making sure all of his weapons were in proper order and ready to fire on the spot if need be. He was keeping to himself for the most part, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the crew as well as conversation. Preparing for the mission was more important than socializing, after all.