<strong>Ansem Hyral : En Route to Hanger Deck, sending private voice message to Captain Fielding. <br/></strong><br/>Ansem and his pilots glided smoothly into the hanger and stationed their battle tested ships, besides a few modifications and tweaks for personal likes they ran smoothly. It would be a few months before he had his own strike-craft fully modified to his liking, maybe even empty out a few luxuries to add a batch of missiles. The other 23 pilots climbed down and joined the other pilots, sharing stories and already bragging on the first fight, it brought a smile to his face as he saw them from his cockpit. Spotting the two metal cylinders, he tossed them into the empty pocket that normally housed a knife in his flight suit. The helmet hissed open and revealed his face as the shielding opened up wards. One he joined the crew he picked out two men from each group.<br/><strong>"These are your new squad captains, celebrate tonight I'll see you all in the morning, send someone to pick up those bottles from the quartermaster, have a good night...that's a damn order." </strong><br/><br/>Still walking in his suit, he opened a private voice message to Captain Kris, making sure no one was in ear shot of him as he made his way towards the smoking area.<br/><strong>"Hey Captain, I still have something for you to wrap those full pouty lips around if your interested, you know where to find me." </strong><br/>The stiffness of the suit had him standing to his full height, wrapping tightly around his body. The plates began to hiss as they disengaged and allowed better movement, by the time he walked into the handger deck he was craning his neck to stretch out a crcik in his back.<br/><strong><em>"Shit...should have changed."</em></strong><br/>He mumbled.<br/><br/>