<strong>Location</strong>: The Ritz-Gospel Hotel (First Haven, Watcher’s Island). Elevator to Conference Hall 01<br/><strong>Date</strong>: 5 January 2099. Monday<br/><strong>Time</strong>: Morning<br/><strong>Who</strong>: Indira Patel<br/><br/><hr/><br/>“Excellent.” The glint in Indira’s eyes vanished with a simple blink. Indira didn’t have direct disciplinary authority over pilots. She wasn’t Director Yao, or the Head of the program, or one of their tactical commanders. But as a director of ADAMS she had enough authority to chide and demand cooperation so she could fulfill the duties of her own job.<br/><br/>Indira gave each of them a quick look up and down as she double checked their appearances. Their uniforms? Check, but it was a bit disappointing they couldn’t show them in their actual piloting suits. Indira understood that it wasn’t feasible. The piloting suits had been designed and constructed for optimal performance inside the Grigori Unit and survivability. An impressive example of human technology, but to the average layman the suits were just odd looking. They were just so radically different compared to the uniform of a regular soldier. Their hair? Check. Their faces? Check. It seemed they were ready to the meet the -<em>wait</em>.<br/><br/>She took a step towards Tianran and brought her hand up. With great concentration Indira readjusted and smoothed out the collar of Tianran’s uniform. Indira didn’t bother to ask permission before touching him. In another situation or field of work it would have been rude, but she’d been working with Tianran for so long it just didn’t matter anymore. At least, it didn’t matter to Indira. Last minute appearance adjustments were second nature to her. Straightening a collar was low on the list of invasive acts that Indira had committed on pilots. She’d personally plucked eyebrows and trimmed nails seconds before a pilot was ushered out onto a stage before. Indira’s approach to directing was hands on and involved.<br/><br/>When the slight crease in Tianran’s uniform collar was fixed she dropped her hand and gave them all a nod before she turned around to face the elevator doors. “Good luck,” she said warmly, though her voice lowered with her next words as she abruptly switched to Chinese. “<Yao is here.>”<br/><br/>The elevator doors slid open and Indira walked out into the buzz of the press conference.